Saturday, September 25, 2010

Record Stores I Have Known and Loved

In our current era where almost anything can be Googled or bought on Amazon or Ebay, the vital role that record stores played in the 60s and 70s might be hard to grasp. For those of us living down on the Midpeninsula, such stores played a vital role beyond just selling records, by serving as an information pipeline to what was occurring in the fast evolving rock world in San Francisco, other American cities, and the UK.  Because most regular newpapers (Ralph Gleason’s postings in the San Francisco Chronicle being a notable exception) did not mention anything beyond the biggest musical events, the bulletin boards in these stores, and the knowledge of their staff, were vital sources of information for what was going on in the local music communitiy.

The Midpeninsula had an abundance of stores, each with their own distinctive character.  One big difference had to do with who got things first. For at least the last decade, the mainstream music industry has decreed that all ‘product’ will be released on Tuesdays. In the sixties, records could come out any day of the week (well, maybe not Saturday or Sunday), and it was certainly true that not all stores got new releases on the same day. I remember having a bunch of new friends for a day back in December 1968 when I got a copy of the Beatles White Album a day or two before it was in most stores because the record store at Mayfield Mall somehow got a stack of copies before everyone else. I developed a routine of dropping into various of the area stores a few times a week, either riding there on my bicycle or grabbing a ride with family members of driving age.

The Music Box at Mayfield Mall was not that terribly different than the Mall stores of the last couple of decades with the exception that they sold vinyl records instead of CDs. They had a nice selection of cut-out records that would sell for $1.00 or less, and I did find some interesting things there, including the aforementioned Beatles early release and one of the few copies I ever saw in a store of the original Grateful Dead single version of “Dark Star”/”Born Crosseyed.”

Mayfield Mall was an interesting institution. One of the very first indoor malls, its advantage to me was a short, easy commute from home or school. You can read about its history here. It was converted to a Hewlett Packard facility in 1984.

A bit further away (and requiring a somewhat perilous transit over the Central Expressway/San Antonio overpass) was San Antonio Music, located in the San Antonio Shopping Center. I remember this store as having more knowlegable employees, and almost always having new releases on sale. I remember vividly riding over there in the summer of 1968 and snapping up a copy of the garishly foil covered Cream album Wheels of Fire, which was one of the earliest double LP releases by a rock act, for six bucks the day it came out. The music store is long gone, but the San Antonio Shopping Center remains, albeit seriously mutated from its mid-60s configuration. Gone are such icons as the iconic Menu Tree food court, which was two stories and featured a bunch of singing animated bird, and the San Antonio Hobby Shop, which started out in a small storefront on the eastern strip that also contained Thrifty and Woolworth’s and expanded to become one of the largest such stores in the country.  Today all of these are long gone, and the center features such franchises as a 24 Hour Fitness, a Trader Joe’s, and a Walmart. Incredibly, the 60s vintage Sears store remains its centerpiece, although it also nearly closed a few years ago.

Going northward from home, another regular stop was Town and Country Music, located near the back of Town and Country Village where the Day One baby supply store is located now. This was kind of a mom and pop operation, as I remember, but they did have a good selection as well as good prices. As a link to a still earlier era, they retained listening booths with turntables and headphones long after this user-friendly convention disappeared from the music sales culture. Of course, in today’s version of this, you can generally scan a CD’s bar code and listen to mp3s at a listening station at your neighborhood Border’s or check out samples online. Although the music store, again, is gone, Town and Country remains a thriving destination, little changed physically from its 1960s form. 

The area’s best record store was arguably Menlo Park’s Discount Records, on El Camino Real just across Live Oak Avenue from the original location of Kepler’s Books. Discount Records was a small chain, but the Menlo store didn’t have anything like a corporate feel.  Years before I began collecting records myself, this was a regular stop on the Saturday rounds I would take with my dad and sometimes my brother. Like Kepler’s, Discount Records was a place where hanging out was encouraged, and it would be common for us to be there for at least an hour while he pored over their always impressive stock of jazz records. It’s pretty easy to see where my own habits developed, and I became like the proverbial kid in a candy store once I got started. The staff there always knew their music well, and generally played really interesting records on their top-quality sound system.

As the rock era dawned, Discount Records was right there. They sold tickets to the Fillmore and other venues, and would receive a shipment of the small handbill sized reproductions of the Fillmore posters every Tuesday afternoon, which I made a point of picking up whenever possible. They also tended to have posters advertising regional events, and it was there that I learned about the 1970 and 1971 appearances at nearby Peninsula School by the New Riders of the Purple Sage that I will get to in a future post.

Another big asset the store had was a large selection of British Import LPs. In the 60s and 70s, British versions of LPs were generally pressed on thicker, higher quality vinyl and had sleeves made of a different, shinier formulation of cardboard. Many British albums were never released in the US (the two volumes of Diary of a Band by John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers comes to mind), and they often came out in the UK months before they were released in the US, like the first two albums by Traffic. When a British act did release an album in the US, it was often drastically different in sequence and content than the UK version, a phenomenon best exemplified by the UK vs. US versions of the pre-Sergeant Pepper Beatles albums.

In 1970, what became my favorite area record store opened in Downtown Palo Alto. World’s Indoor Records established itself in part of a Victorian that still stands at the corner of Kipling Street and Lytton Avenue. WIR was a small, funky, one-person shop, owned by a friendly red headed dude named Roy. His avuncular, laid back manner, and his encyclopedic knowledge of the new music coming out, made it a great place to hang out, listen to, and buy music. The single big room was cozy, and stuffed with interesting records. Somehow he always seemed to come up with things that weren’t available elsewhere (like the original, super rare Glastonbury Fayre 3 LP set that came out in 1972), and he was also a passionate advocate (and canny salesperson) for obscure records. I remember him putting on the debut album by Jesse Winchester, then essentially unknown in the states, pointing out the production and engineering credits by Robbie Robertson and Todd Rundgren, respectively, and the few of us in the store being simply awestruck by the quiet glory of that magnificent, timeless record. He was also service oriented. I recall him actually trying to talk me out of buying Captain Beefheart’s Trout Mask Replica, and even offering to take it back if I hated it (I kept it, of course).

In short order, World’s Indoor Records was joined in the Victorian by Chimera, which sold used books and used records. While used records and CDs are a common coin of the realm today, stores that sold them were still relatively rare as the seventies dawned, and Chimera, like its retail housemate, seemed to attract some of the best and most obscure recordings, most of which could be bought for around $2.00 at the time. Starting with a single room downstairs, Chimaera’s mostly literary holdings ultimately sprawled through the rest of the downstairs and all of the upstairs of the house, and ultimately outlived World’s Indoor Records, which closed sometime in the late 1970s.  Today the Victorian is broken up into apartments. Chimaera moved onto University Avenue for many years, and is now up on Middlefield Road in Redwood City.

A final oddity worth mentioning is Banana Records, which appeared in the late '60s on El Camino Real south of California Avenue. It had a reasonable, but not outstanding selection, but was notable because it was housed in a wooden cube resembling a record crate. The building remains, just a few doors down from the Palo Alto Fry's and it currently houses an Ipod repair facility. 

Up in the city, the ultimate record destination in this era was the Tower Records store at Columbus and Bay Streets, perched between North Beach and Fisherman’s Wharf. Long before it became an international franchise, there were three Tower locations, the initial store in Sacramento, the San Francisco store, and one on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles. In this pre-Amazon era, Tower was legendary among the music community for having the greatest selection of records. It was not at all uncommon to find both local and touring musicians browsing through the vast converted grocery store. Tower also initiated the giant painted murals of album covers that adorned the exterior of the San Francisco and Los Angeles stores. Sadly, the entire Tower chain was sold and liquidated in 2006. 

Before I wrap this up, a couple of other regional nods. I first experienced the treasure trove that was (and is) Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley when one of the first bootleg records, Liver than You’ll Ever Be, came on the market in late 1969. At that point, the only place to buy it was Leopold’s, which at that time was in a small storefront in the mall on the north side of Durant on the block east of Telegraph, just across the street from where its much larger location ended up for a couple of decades until it closed several years back. During my college years and thereafter, Telegraph was the place to shop for used records, with the prime locations being the basement of Moe’s Books, which stopped selling records probably 30 years ago, and the original tiny location of the first Rasputin’s on the west side of the first block of Telegraph. Rasputin’s sprawled and has spawned a number of rather uninspired locations throughout the bay area, but the Berkeley location, particularly its roomy basement, still yields up some cool stuff.

In 1990, Amoeba records opened a bit further down Telegraph, and it quickly became and has remained the destination of choice for those of us that still buy records and/or CDs. Easily as big as the original San Francisco Tower, Amoeba has immense collections of virtually every genre of music, well organized and nicely displayed. The other two stores in the chain, on Haight Street in San Francisco and on Sunset in Hollywood, are even bigger, but the Berkeley store is still the best of the lot in my book.

The time warp award goes to Logos on Pacific Avenue in Santa Cruz. When I moved to Santa Cruz for college in 1971, it was in a small shop on Cooper Street, just opposite the Cooper House. In short order, it moved to a location on Pacific proper a couple of blocks down the street. The building housing Logos was leveled after the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, but it rose like a phoenix into its current two story location between Cathcart and Lincoln Streets, kitty corner from the Del Mar Theatre. Even before vinyl became cool again, they had a massive collection of vinyl that, I would swear, contained the same copies of Moby Grape and Doobie Brothers albums that they were selling back in the seventies. Their prices have risen recently in keeping with the resurgence of vinyl collecting, but they still have an amazing assortment of albums.

Well, I’ve wallowed in this particular brand of nostalgia long enough, and I apologize to those of you for whom record stores are not all that fascinating.  I will get back to musical events proper in the next post.


JGMF said...

I am really glad to have that perspective, cd. It's nice to have some color around that piece of the whole picture ... thanks!

Corry342 said...

I went to all these record stores. Chimera/Worlds Indoor was my #1 destination throughout High School.I'm amazed to know Chimera is still in existence in some form.

Did you ever go the Wherehouse on El Camino Real in Los Altos? They had cut out import albums for 69 cents (note to readers--do not buy This Is Amon Duul 2, no matter the price).

cryptdev said...


I wonder if we ever crossed paths in those stores? I certainly did go to the Wherehouse in Los Altos, and remember they had Imports, but I think I missed out on the 69 cent cutouts!

Anonymous said...

There was also Hage's (or Haig's) in Palo Alto - a stones throw or two from the entrance to Stanford. I believe that PAHS has a photo of it online. (Yup, not a great one, but might jog some memories... see

Interior had rows of incandescent light bulbs and lots of brightly painted (red and yellow) wood as I recall.

I remember once at Tower in San Jose (Bascom Ave late 70s) there was a girl in a wheelchair that used to hang out there selling flowers and stuff in the parking lot. One day I saw her pick up the wheelchair, throw it in the back of a car, walk around without even limping, get in, and drive off.

Discount Records had stores all over the place... there was one in Isla Vista (UCSB) I used to frequent.


cryptdev said...

I remember going to Hage's and their having a huge basement with bargain priced jazz LPs. It had closed by the time I started collecting records myself. There is a nice piece by pianist Dick Fregulia discussing it, along with the 1950's jazz scene in the Midpeninsula, on the Palo Alto History Web site:

Maui Tom said...

I used to sell albums at Chimera to buy Round Table Pizza...Also remember Hal's Music at Sears and The Record Factory a little past The Wherehouse?

bshakey256 said...

Anyone remember Rainbow Records off El Camino near Palo Alto High School? Waited in line to get Who tickets for their 1982 Farewell Tour and wasted countless hours playing Battle Zone while cutting class.

Anonymous said...

Fantastic! I was trying to remember the name of Discount Records. Loved all of those stores. Road my bike everywhere - collected posters - mowed thru cutout bins... Really dug Kepler's and the head shop next store, "The Black Elephant."

Best memory -- waiting until midnight to finally get the new Floyd album "Wish You Were Here."

Toby Germano said...

What a truly wonderful post! I grew up in Woodside/Palo Alto, and used to frequent most of the places you mentioned. I absolutely loved Chimera, and spent many days there.

Take care,

jim sully said...

Maximart also had a record store . I worked at the auto-bike store for a year or so.
Picked up James Brown's "The Big Payback" album when it was released....

cryptdev said...

Good point Jim! I certainly bought a lot of records at Maximart as well, and they had one of the best and earliest sections of bargain priced cutouts I encountered.

Larry said...

Just saw this post.

For UK imports, both the SF and Berkeley Tower Records were the places to shop. Discount Records in San Jose near Valley Fair was also a good spot.

I started shopping for imports and bootlegs in '71. We used to make the trek from Los Altos/Sunnyvale to Berkeley on a regular basis. The Berkeley loop was Moe's, Rasputin's, Tower, and Leopold's.

One major omission in Berkeley was Rather Ripped Records, both for boots and imports.

I lived in the Berkeley/Kensington area from 1974-88. When Japanese imports started making the rounds, Rasputin's and Berigan's were the best shops for those. Berigan's was also great for German pressings of the ECM label.

I saw the Isla Vista comment. I attended UCSB from 1972-4. The two go-to stores were Morninglory Music and Crane's Records. Crane's was terrific for jazz cut-outs.

Mark said...

And for used Jazz records there was "The Magic Flute" next to Kezar Stadium.

Tahoe Bob said...

Great memories here...thanks. Does anyone remember the record store in downtown Sunnyvale? I recall that a couple local FM DJ's worked there. I used to go there a lot in the early 70's.

Anonymous said...

Just adding my plug for Rather Ripped in Berkeley. In the early Seventies Rather Ripped and Leopold's were my favorite record stores. Also Moe's basement was good for used records. They were pretty sharp dealers at Moe's. I once bought a Norman Greenbaum album there, not one of his best. I think I paid 3 bucks for it. I took it back to the store and Moe's buyer offered me 50 cents for it, saying what a crappy album it was, almost worth nothing and he was doing me a favor to even take it back. A few days later I saw it back in the bin for 3 bucks again. I mentioned this to the buyer and he pretended to be shocked. :-)

cryptdev said...

In my experience, record dealers like the guy at Moe's are generally trying to get the best price they can for used records or CDs - their profit margin was never great unless it was something collectible. I wonder what used vinyl will be bought for now that the price of used LPs has skyrocketed?