After Los Angeles, San Francisco was the second big city we visited during this trip. Both are California, but each one has its completely different character. LA is overlooked by tall hills but the city itself is rather flat; San Francisco roads continuously go up- and down- hill; one sees less one-story houses with lawns, and more Victorian houses with French balconies. And while LA also has a Chinatown, the one in San Francisco is really huge; announcements in the bus are often tri-lingual: in English, Spanish, and Chinese. Between Chinatown and local landmark Coit Tower (the neighborhood is called North Beach) is where I started my record store walk, after paying a visit to the historic City Lights bookshop. The shop was founded by poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti and became the hangout of Beat generation writers, from Jack Kerouac to Allen Ginsberg and Neal Cassady. If those names don't mean something to you, just go right to the basement and delve into one of the best collections on music and pop culture you're ever likely to find in a physical bookstore. Just a block or two away (1414 Grant Ave.) one can visit 101 Music; it's somewhat cramped, with lots of crates lying around, but that's how we crate diggers us like it. New LPs cost around $30, used ones $10-15. Also CDs in the usual prices, some memorabilia and music equipment. Seeing as the shop is at the corner of Grant Ave. and Green St. I thought this might be the right place to buy a vinyl by jazz guitarist Grant Green - they didn't seem to have one, but their jazz selection is otherwise excellent - also good in rock, folk, and world music. At some point, 101 Music apparently had a second location nearby, a huge basement containing 50,000 LP's. It's mentioned in some sites, but don't go looking for it - it closed down some time ago.
At the opposite side of the street, there's Cantina Records. This one is better ordered, and has a well-curated collection, featuring almost all the classics as well as some nice rarities. Very good in jazz and soul, as well as rock and folk. I was glad to find some garage/psychedelic records here, too. LP's, all in good condition, mostly cost $10-35. Very close, but buried in a small side street (50 Bannam Pla) is the literally-named Out Of Sight Records. Not very big, but lots of good finds (vinyl, mostly used $12-35). There were also some racks with vintage clothes lying around, didn't check if they were for sale. Moving on from North Beach to the Fillmore St, and Originals Vinyl. It's a nice clean shop in a beautiful residential area; very close to the famous Painted Ladies tourist attraction. Originals sells used vinyl (mostly $12-35), as well as a few CDs. They also had a lot of LPs on offer ($3-8). Some of them were good titles in dubious state; I chose a dozen or so, and proceeded to check their condition one by one, when a guy came and told me I should do it in the corner (meaning, I think, that I was preventing the other customers from browsing the records in front of me). I thought that was uncalled for; I mean there's often someone in front of the stack of records you want to check, taking their time checking the merchandise. You don't say "move over, buddy" you wait for them to finish - also there wasn't anyone waiting beside me, if there was I would move to the next stack myself, and let them get on with it. I chose not to take offence, took maybe 7 records to the cash register and put the rest back exactly where I found them. I was only in the city for a few days, so it's not like I'd ever be back in this shop anyway, but if I did live in SF I don't think I'd visit here often. This reminded me of the widespread stereotype of the "rude record shop clerk". I wasn't familiar with it before the movie High Fidelity and the character Jack Black played in it; at the time I hadn't visited many record shops abroad, so I couldn't tell if the stereotype was true. And in Athens, where I lived until 2010, all record stores clerks knew me, at least by sight. Even though I very rarely chatted with them, they'd know my tastes in music, and they'd greet me with "Some new so-and-so came in" or "did you check the bargain bins, I just refilled them". So I couldn't tell whether the stereotype in general was already true when the movie came out, or if it's a matter of life imitating art. I certainly often read reviews nowadays about snooty record store clerks, and can't tell whether it's a new phenomenon or there just wasn't any medium for customers to post a review in the old days.
Anyway, from Originals it's walking distance to the storied Haight Street - I mean, who hasn't heard of Haight Ashbury and its centrality to the hippie movement? The houses where The Grateful Dead, or Janis Joplin and her group, used to live communally are registered in google maps, but look inconspicuously like every other house in the neighborhood. On the other hand, there's a place called Jimi Hendrix's Red House with a huge mural of the artist, even though as far as I know Hendrix never lived in SF and was certainly not part of the city's hippie scene. There's a bunch of good record stores on Haight, as well as palm readers, eateries, shops for vintage clothes and for smokers' paraphernalia, and one great store full of fantasy and science fiction, called Borderlands Books. The place didn't look like much, but my God the sheer number of titles they had! I just logged in to check the website a minute ago, and it turns out that the 1740 Haight St. address is a temporary one. When the permanent one finally opens, it'll supposedly be an impressive sight, so be sure to put it in your itinerary. Of course, when one talks about California record stores, there's an elephant in the room and its name is Amoeba Records. So let's get it over with first: it's situated on 1855 Haight St, close to Golden Gate park. Of course, if you come all this way, you need to take a stroll in the park where so many counter-cultural events of the 60's took place, ushering the so-called Summer Of Love. Today, there are still some buskers honoring the spirit of the 60's, while there's even an area called Hippie Hill. Just beware of the coyotes, which seem to roam the place at night. I didn't see any, but they had signs posted around the place with instructions on what to do in case of an encounter. Nothing about roadrunners, who seem to be a worse menace if my earliest TV memories don't deceive me. Anyway, the Amoeba branch on Haight is huge, at least as big as the one in Hollywood. Just a crazy variety of T-shirts, posters, books, CDs and vinyl. All genres: rock, pop, jazz, folk, reggae, international, you name it. Used LPs mostly go for $5-15, new ones $25-35. There's also a clearance section: LPs $2-3, and thousands of CDs for $1-3. If anyone was starting a CD collection now, they could come here and build a really good one for next to nothing. There's also a big store-inside-the-store dedicated to DVDs, some 30,000 titles according to the website. Apparently, in-store live music is also quite common, and famous artists often play free gigs here. A bit further, on 1644 Haight St, one can find Offshore Sounds. This shop doesn't have its own front; it's situated within "710 Collective" a hub of small hipster businesses sharing the same space. LPs (used) cost mostly $8-25, with a few offers for $5. It's a small but well curated collection that includes rare Japanese editions of western rock/pop music. From the newest addition, we move to Rooky Ricardo's records (419 Haight St), a shop historic enough to warrant its own wikipedia entry.
The place is rightly famous for its huge variety of 45s, but it also has a good LP selection, mostly soul and oldies but also jazz and rock ($10-35). Pretty close (593 Haight St) one can find Vinyl Dreams. I didn't catch it open (they work Thursday to Monday), but it's supposedly good for electronic music. Groove Merchant is situated on 687 Haight St. It has a great collection of jazz vinyl, as well as soul, rock, and international music (mostly $8-35). All neatly classified by genre and decade. Also some books, movie posters, etc. Not far from here, but also no longer on Haight, you can visit the similarly-named Grooves Records (1797 Market St). This is a very large shop full of used vinyl (folk, country, jazz, rock, international etc). Many random titles, and a lot of bargains under $10. I could easily have spent a couple of hours here, and if I did, I'm sure I'd certainly dig out something great and unexpected. Unfortunately I had to rush to an appointment, and didn't find the time to return. The next day took me back to the Mission District, a lively Latin American neighborhood. Right in the middle of it, opposite an amazing music-themed mural, one can find Discodelic (3174, 24th St). This has a fantastic shop front, and the most amazing collection of Latin-style music vinyl I have ever seen: salsa, cumbia, rock en español, but also Caribbean music, reggae, soul etc. A lot of rare original LPs going mostly for $20-40. Last among the record stores I visited on the San Francisco leg of my California trip -but, as they say, not least- is Stranded in SF on 1055 Valencia St. It's a clean and spacy shop, with a good selection, especially in rock and indie music. New LPs $20-40, used $15-40, and some offers for $10. As mentioned in a previous post, US prices are exclusive sales tax, so one should add something between 7-10%. For the time I spent in SF, I consider I did a good job of visiting as many record stores as I could. Let's not forget there were an awful lot of sights to see; I took a half-day tour of Alcatraz, as well as another guided tour throughout all the SF landmarks, climbed the Coit Tower, went down to the docks to spend time with smelly sea lions, went to my first baseball game at Oracle Park (great stadium, I'd love to watch a rock concert there some time) and came close to understanding the rules of that game. There was also a whole lot of eating needed to be done: some of the most authentic away-from-home Chinese and Mexican street food, crab chowder inside sourdough bread bowls, and all sorts of baked goods. I won't mention the drinking, lest you get the wrong idea. Or the gay bars - inevitably I went to some, I mean we stayed at the heart of the Castro district, every bar in the vicinity is essentially a gay bar. San Francisco is a very inclusive place, which is another reason to love it. I don't know if it's part of the legacy left behind by the true city founders: adventurers, gold diggers, and courtesans instead of the pilgrims. There does seem to be a line that stretches from that age to include Beat generation writers, musicians, hippies, students, peaceniks, leftists, punks, the gay liberation movement, etc. Its proximity to Silicon Valley and the tech industry, which draws in the new high tech plutocrats, causes rent prices to climb sky high, and exacerbates the serious homelessness problem; these things tend to shape the modern image of the city, but beneath it all, it remains a progressive oasis in modern America. One hopes that it will survive a possible second Trump term.
P.S. I'd like to mention here some SF record stores that were on my list, but for one reason or another I didn't get to visit. First among them, Thrillhouse Records (3422 Mission St) a volunteer-based record shop in Bernal Heights specializing in punk and underground music. A non-profit underground music record shop? This kind of thing could only exist in San Francisco, sorry I missed it. On the western part of the city (3427 Balboa St) there's Noise Records (+ art gallery + live music space). Typical yelp review: "great collection of all genres of vinyl, it's a super cool local business and they have a free jazz performance on Sundays". Also to the west, Tunnel Records (3614A Taraval St, Sunset District) "average-sized but pretty well-curated...good mix of new and used titles...record accessories...Beachy wares". I also took a ton of notes about record shops in the rest of the Bay Area, especially Berkeley and Oakland, but since in the end I skipped those places altogether, I won't post them here. I will say that earlier this year I read a great novel called Telegraph Avenue that revolved around an imaginary record store situated on that street, and was thinking it'd be cool to visit the actual record stores on Telegraph Ave. (there are a few, including the first and original Amoeba record store in Berkeley) and try to guess which provided the inspiration to the novel. Next time, maybe.
No comments:
Post a Comment