Seattle's Easy Street Records

I recently took a road trip to Seattle with my wife for a much needed weekend getaway. I had some time to myself on the Saturday so I grabbed my camera and hit the street. I didn’t have any real plans. The sun was warm for the first time in recent memory and, as my Fluevogs hit the pavement, Cursive’s latest release, Mama I’m Swollen, kept the beat.

It’s obvious that music is a vibrant part of Seattle’s culture. There’s a busker on almost every corner, posters for shows and clubs abound and Seattle Center is home to the Experience Music Project, a cultural facility dedicated to the exploration of creativity and innovation in popular music. But if you spend any time in the city, you will eventually discover that the heart and soul of the culture can be found at Easy Street Records. After about an hour of exploration, this is where I found myself standing, camera in hand.

Easy Street is famous for being a key element in the emergence of bands like Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Alice In Chains and many, many others. The mentions of Easy Street in the footnotes of rock history have been well earned over its 20 years of operation. But the future of the store is uncertain. As we all know, the times they are a-changin’.

Technology has created a temporary chaos as the business of music reconfigures itself. The convenience offered by the net is shifting power from the hands of the few to the democracy of the many. More music is being listened to than ever, more bands are building a meaningful fan base and more individuals are drawing sustaining income from their art. All good things. Unfortunately, this convenience often comes at a cost. In the case of purchasing our music, this convenience is endangering an amazing experience.

The first thing I noticed when I approached the store was that it was full of real people. Not “friends” or “members” or “contacts”. Real people. Tall, short, skinny, fat, attractive, odd, interesting people. Some were obviously immersed in the search for treasure. Others casually loitered about and a few even seemed to have arrived together to share the experience. (I can’t say I’ve ever invited a friend to sit down and shop online with me).

As I browsed through the aisles, I quickly scanned through hundreds upon hundreds of albums; the cover art tangible and vibrant in its native resolution. I discovered new bands and was reunited with forgotten titles. I was reminded of my 14th birthday when my aunt bought me one of my first CD’s, a copy of the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (it was a fun memory but I felt no compulsion to replenish my NGDB supply). I experienced the unanticipated. I felt no need to “pull” my content but enjoyed the gentle “push” of the Staff Picks rack. I took my time.

I asked a man standing behind the counter, sporting a serious moustache and a dapper fedora, if I could take a few pictures. He figured it was cool but thought I should check with the owner to be sure. I was directed to Matt Vaughan. I introduced myself and shook his hand. I didn’t poke him or tweet him or ping him. I shook his hand. I asked if I could take a few pictures. He asked why and I explained what I did for a living and that I wanted to write about my experience. There seemed to be a bit of suspicion in the air. He reached over and pulled a jewel case out of my hands. Radiohead, The Best of. The expression on his face seemed to read, “A decent pick. But “best of”? Not a true fan. I guess I’ll let it pass.” I sheepishly explained that I was just looking for something to listen to on the drive home with my wife. With a smirk, permission for the photos was granted.

After taking several shots, I approached Matt again. I showed him the playlist on my phone. Beastie Boys, Cursive, Oceanship, Pennywise, Primus, Vampire Weekend. This time I received an approving nod, “Not bad.” I asked him if he could suggest something to add to it. “Where’s your Fugazi?” Fugazi for me has always been like that guy that all my friends seem to know. I’ve heard his name a thousand times but for some reason we’ve never actually met. Matt made the long over-due introduction. I followed him to the other side of the store and he pulled down Obits latest release, I Blame You. “This is good stuff. I’ve been listening to it a lot lately.”

Matt and I continued to chat for a bit but it was obvious I was no match for his wealth of musical knowledge. We found some common ground in being entrepreneurs. It turns out online physical sales are making a small but significant contribution to his company and they’re about to start selling digital product through thinkindie.com. Times are tough but they’re a creative and tenacious group. They’ll get through.

Finally, I grabbed a $10 Easy Street T-Shirt and headed for the counter. As I left, excited to unravel the mystery of my new CD’s, I realized that there was no way for me to load the music into my blackberry. And as Matt had pointed out, “The wife probably won’t be into these.” I would have to wait until I returned to my computer at home. The inconvenience of the physical world was suddenly, painfully apparent. But the wait was well worth it.

Matt nailed my playlist and made two perfect recommendations. Fugazi has taken me on a fresh trip down memory lane and Obits is now on heavy rotation. Both albums I never would have bought while sitting alone on my computer. The music I acquired has become much more than just a creative product for my listening enjoyment. The experience associated with the purchase has given it context and a deeper meaning. These albums have become a touchstone to my love for the Indie record store.

It may seem strange for me to write in support of the endangered record store. After all, I’m a passionate technologist and strive to create software that will help usher in the emerging music industry, the online industry. I am a craftsman of convenience and I believe in where things are headed. But I also believe we must remain conscious of what we’re in danger of losing. There is so much more to life than what we can touch with the click of a button.

Let’s not always choose to sacrifice experience for convenience. April 18th is Record Store Day. Show your support. Call a friend, grab some cash and go on an urban adventure. Visit your local record store and create a memory. Give your music context. Don’t just do this on record store day, do it often. You’ll love your music all the more.