Trash: In name and Reality

I read the latest issue of SPIN magazine on break from work the other day and found an interesting article on how to save the record industry. The article boiled down to a list of ten suggestions. Among them: record stores should pander to the people who actually go out of their way and travel to a record store. People who try and find bargains and may be looking for something strange and regional. People like...I don't know...ME AND YOU.

Anyway, today I ventured out of my house and decided to take a road trip to Trash American Style in Danbury, CT. The store is a model for how record stores should organize themselves. Located in a small city, the store doesn't overload on the esoteric or stock its shelves with the same hum-drum inventory as your local Sam Goody. They mainly specialize in the more popular areas of punk and indie rock but they also stock some rare records and imports. Their used record selection is not vast but it is interesting. They certainly utilize their dwelling's small space well- not too sloppy but organized with a junk herder's eye. On top of all that, local Ultrabunny maverick/ex-Bunny Brain Malcolm Tent mans the counter, fielding questions in a friendly manner.

Unfortunately, my first visit to Trash in six years will probably be my last. Trash's landlord took the rug out from underneath them recently and the store closes its doors May 1. A huge sale begins Sunday. I spent about 45 minutes at the store, talking to Malcolm, fellow record stack dwellers and amassing my stack. Malcolm even gave me a bit of a discount when I told him I drove from Branford (actually Guilford) when I heard about sale. I got the dates wrong but he didn't mind. My patronage made him grateful. When I was in the store, ten people dug through the merchandise, staying for an average of 15 minutes each. Everyone purchased at least $10 worth of music.

On my way home, I stopped by Merle's Record Rack in Orange. As soon as I stepped in the store, the short stocky Greek dude behind the counter shot me a dirty look. I saw a copy of MC5's High Time sitting on the floor, unmarked, and picked it up. A copy of Back in the USA sat behind High Time. As I dug deeper into the pile, I found three Pearls Before Swine records and a copy of Canned Heat's Living with the Blues. The covers were worn on each of these records and some even had surface marks on the discs. I took them up to the counter where the counter dick informed me that each record I held cost $25. When I asked him why, he replied, "They're first pressings." He was serious as AIDS, too. While I was there, four people walked into the store and one person purchased a $6 CD.

I don't know if Mr. Merle's ever used the Internet but I can find a copy of Living with the Blues for less than $5 right now on eBay. The cover of the record would be in better shape, too. It was the first Canned Heat record to go platinum and Boomers are getting rid of their copies at an alarming rate. The Pearls Before Swine LPs might be more expensive but, in the condition that they were in at Merle's, they wouldn't sell for more than $15.

But, hey, this is Merle's we're talking about. A money-grubbing mini-chain in Connecticut, Merle's business declined in recent years, forcing a store closing in Guilford. Mr. Merle attributed this store closing to downloading. "Damn, that blasted Internet," he cursed. In reality, the store closed because its prices were too high and its owners had no idea what the kids were into. They didn't even know what music 30-somethings dug. The twin clerks constantly blasted horrible jazz singers and generic hard-bop. Also, they nickel-and-dime their patrons to death, tacking an extra $4-6 onto CDs and charging $8+ for yesterday's trends in the used section. When Guilford Merle's started to get vinyl, a price tag of $10-20 could be expected for anything with a big name (i.e. Dylan, The Beatles, Pink Floyd), even if huge scuff marks marred the records. Like I said these guys had/have no clue when it comes to business. They just want to shake you down for your money and throw your ass out onto the street.

One day, a woman turned in her dead husband's record collection.New York punk rock records dominated the collection and the clerks didn't know what to do. They charged $1 for each record. It was garbage, after all, because they'd never heard of it. "Einsturzende Neubaten's Kollaps? Fuck is that?" one puzzled Greek brother asked the other. Then I came in and scooped up all 15 of those records. "Sucker," they thought.

In the end, the two twins who ran the Guilford store lost but, wait, the bad guys are still winning. Chains drive mom-and-pop stores like Trash American Style out of business unless these stores develop specializations. Even then, evil prevails because stores like Merle's manage to duck cruel landlords and stay in business. These stores survive because, even though they despise customers, they cheat people out of money. Their thriftiness makes up for their lack of people skills.