Digging Hierarchy

To the four of you who have been eagerly anticipating a new blog post for over three months…Adam Harrison-Friday regrets the delay. During the summer—while I was too lethargic to think of something worth sharing and opted not to provide details from more quirky interactions with baffled salesclerks in underpopulated New England towns—a milestone was achieved: I finally completed visiting every record store in Connecticut, a project you expected me to say was many years in the making but was more truthfully an abundance of months in the formulation.

As you no doubt (“Don’t speak…”) recall from the LBS, there’s no kind of shopping I enjoy more than flipping through costly squares of moldy-smelling cardboard. After sending an Instagram message to Ian, owner of my favorite store on the forthcoming list, about my Medal of Freedom-worthy feat, it occurred to me that twenty-five hundred or so words on the subject would be vital to all Nutmeg State crate diggers. My unscientific criteria used for the rankings were: overall selection (with a focus on used vinyl), pricing, layout and organization, quality of the staff, and my desire to return (the only category where serious bias may play into things because I get to see more of the great stores nearer to me). All stores can be located on VinylHub although chains (Newbury Comics), bookstores with minimal records/primarily new releases (Atticus), and goners (Integrity/dropped by there, but it’s since closed) found on said site were excluded.

Editor’s Note: It’s impossible for me to be impartial about Music Outlet in Enfield. (Feel free to read 7,000 words about why in my book.) However, if you’re looking for a concise layout, the lowest used prices in the state, and all kinds of metal then Uncle Gary will never let you down.

In the words of my buddy Rick, “Let’s light this rocket ship!”

17. Johnny’s, Darien (visited once)
Located in one of the richest towns in the state, the appalling prices were to be expected. Unfortunately, walking in and being told, “WE CLOSE IN EIGHT MINUTES!” before being extended a hello was not. Albums are stored dresser-style—you pull out a drawer to view what’s inside—and I may or may not have found a cum sock beside a seam split copy of Eat a Peach. The store is small (aka the selection is limited) so I recommend hitting the nearby Goodwill in Norwalk instead. At least it’ll make more sense when you find a used condom jammed inside a copy of Pronounced 'Lĕh-'nérd 'Skin-'nérd. Best Purchase: Didn’t buy anything.

16. Merle’s Record Rack, Orange (visited once)
The kind of place that makes my OCD flare up like the dickens! Too few cards to highlight major artists, LPs lacking prices (would hate to bring one to the register and wait while Merle used Discogs for a quote), and a general sense of disorganization that left me saying, “If he doesn’t give a shit about his own store, why should I?” At least Merle ate Chinese takeout and never once screamed at me, so that’s why he didn’t finish in last place (aided by The OB&C’s passionate take that grown men should not be called Johnny, but now I’m getting unnecessarily petty and bitter on someone else’s behalf). Best Purchase: Didn’t buy anything.

15. Trading Post Music, Canton (visited once)
This spot looks like a large red barn and is a crunchy haven (plenty of incense and ganja leaf apparel, among other items). Unfortunately, there are way too many crummy ‘90s used CDs (Natalie Imbruglia fans won’t be deterred), never mind the Dad Rock vinyl wall (the vast array of Seger overstock shocked me, even more so when a fellow shopper couldn’t find a live album by the Silver Bullet Band ten minutes later). I inquired about pricier LPs and the lady in charge—a scarcity in record stores—surprisingly led me to a locked room upstairs where [*Silk Stockings theme*/redacted/just kidding] she stores the high-priced goods (due to previous thefts) listed only on Amazon and eBay. Best Purchase: Didn’t buy anything except incense but found some gems in the Secret Room (unfortunately, I owned them all/#humblebrag).

14. The Archive, Bridgeport (visited once)
If you’ve ever been a dungeon sex slave, this dark, nearly windowless two-story building may require a trigger warning. They’ve got a substantial collection of horror movies, but the lower level contains tons of cheap LPs worth digging through even if you’re likely to see eight copies of Hot August Night (and once again ponder what drugs Neil Diamond was on when the cover photo was snapped). Overhearing the cashier and a regular customer discuss Italian cult movie Cannibal Holocaust was both an eavesdropper’s rarity and painfully clichéd given the store’s ethos. Best Purchase: Didn’t buy anything but my buddy grabbed a Busta Rhymes “Rhymes Galore” twelve-inch, which was perfect since he’s been (justifiably) quoting it for the last two decades.

13. Willimantic Records (visited twice)
It’s a giant room—there’s a musty couch along with a corner “stage” area where bands play—that feels like it’s stuck three decades in the past. Featuring a selection that it seems too lazy to call esoteric—you’ll find lesser works by minor artists plus local stuff and oddities that must be on consignment—they have one of the best used cassette collections I’ve ever seen (Leonard Cohen, John Coltrane, Robert Johnson, et. al.). I was disappointed that the store didn’t have a cat or given the surroundings, raccoon wandering around to further enhance the unique offerings. Best Purchase: Phish’s Rift and Hoist (both one dollar on cassette, The Old B&C sold them for twenty apiece on eBay because I dislike Phish but occasionally love capitalism).

12. Exile on Main Street, Branford (visited once)
The name’s great (in honor of The Greatest Album in the History of Ears) yet sucks (talk about unoriginal, plus it’s on EAST Main Street). Containing a mix of used and new, I was admittedly disappointed by the lack of Nellcôte syringes Keith Richards handled while recording the titular masterpiece. If you’re into used CDs at decent prices, this place will surely butter your biscuits. Best Purchase: I (embarrassingly) wanted one of the store’s bags to put with my Rolling Stones collection, so I nabbed a copy of Wanted Dead or Alive by the New Barbarians (a Keef side project).

11. Tumbleweeds, Niantic (visited once)
Enclosed within a house is this Rasta-friendly store whose name doesn’t match the surroundings (unless I’m to assume the weed’s so good that the employees fall on their faces upon inhaling). I admittedly didn’t spend too long here—there’s an ample used LP selection worth perusing—but not because the store was bad (the prices could be a trifle—yes, a trifle—lower though). If anything, it loses points due to being as much a clothing/head shop as a record store. Best Purchase: John Hiatt’s Bring the Family (first pressing).

10. Vinyl Street Café, Fairfield (visited once)
Talk about a tiny store—I walked in and was immediately told to avoid the spilled coffee surrounded by napkins on the floor—this one’s set a hundred or so feet back from the street, making it a minor challenge to locate. Owned by a middle-aged couple, the man took a snarky dig in response to a statement by his definitely lesser half, which was permissible since she was high on LSD (it seemed plausible). In her defense, when I inquired about a signed Rolling Stones poster, she told me it was a reprint, which saved me both the time pondering and risk of spending one hundred-plus ducats on something I absolutely didn’t need. Best Purchase: First pressing of the Koyaanisqatsi soundtrack.

9. Redscroll Records, Wallingford (visited four times)
Many would likely rank this as one of the state’s two best stores, but the staff are so uninterested in conversation—unless you’re a regular who watches the same Netflix music documentaries they do—that it initially was a major boner killer. (Do you think I’m being literal?) However, their selection of all genres is tough to top, including tons of oddball noise/metal/etc. discs you won’t find at more than one or two stores anywhere else in New England. I love stores with a large New Arrivals section and theirs has consistently gifted me an immediate “in the cart” selection. Best Purchase: A promo copy of Miles Davis’s Agharta.  

8. Replay Records, Hamden (visited once)
Second place where I didn’t spend enough time, which means it was closer to forty-five minutes than an hour or more. The owner was conversational, knowledgeable, and likable, a challenging trio to find amongst the (sporadically) bitter old dudes who tend to own these establishments. This is a primo spot to inspect if you’re into early pressings of classic jazz plus the owner will play clarinet solos upon request. <— You better believe that’s a bold-faced lie. Best Purchase: First pressing of Miles Davis’s Nefertiti.

7. Vernon Vintage Vinyl (visited four times)
Upstairs is full of jukeboxes and old knick-knacks while the downstairs has the largest selection of 45s in the state. The layout is impeccable, whatever sixties-ish chain smoker working is nice as hell, and they tend to play doo-wop or sunny pop to make the shopping experience singalong-able. Even better, the prices here are uniformly fair and it’s the only town in the state with two (great) record stores. Best Purchase: KISS’s Music from the Elder, which may not seem remarkable but it’s my best bud’s favorite KISS album (and made for a memorable birthday gift).

6. Disc & Dat, Bethel (visited once)
Loved the selection here almost as much as the co-owner brothers who debated if Alice Cooper should be filed under A or C. (You’d think it might’ve gotten discussed in the previous decades of ownership, not on a weekday autumn afternoon a few years before retirement.) An additional intangible that made me respect them was finding what seemed like a potential rare European copy of Bowie’s Heroes; when I double checked and believed it to be a bootleg, I asked the guy who correctly said File Under C and without hesitation he replied, “Oh yeah, that’s a boot.” Best Purchase: Brian Eno’s Discreet Music (first pressing, as if it needed to be mentioned).  

5. The Telegraph, New London (visited twice)
Gorgeous layout, tons of new and used, and a laid-back staff who are diligently working but will help with anything. They even have a high-quality selection of used fiction paperbacks and tons of music books (a category that gets overlooked in record stores). Additional points for being in an artsy neighborhood near an outstanding comic book/toy store, antique shop, and gastropub, making return trips all the more pleasurable. Best Purchase: A 1960 audiobook of Earl Nightingale reading Napoleon Hill’s classic self-help book Think and Grow Rich (the owner was shocked to learn he had this elpee in his store).

4. Gerosa Records, Brookfield (visited twice)
For selection alone, this place is untouchable (the only place worthy of comparison is Amoeba in California/I’m not sure the S.F. or Berkeley stores had a significantly larger selection of 33s when I frequented both in 2017). The downside is that with so many LPs—wisely mixing new and used together by artist—you would need close to a full day to appreciate this store, which challenges me because if I drive seventy or so miles, I wanna check out some other local scenery. Bonus intangible: These guys are very active on social media, posting endless diamonds in the smooth (fuck you, rough!) so be watchful or you may end up kicking yourself (with the option to punch yourself afterward). Best Purchase: A rare British copy of Kraftwerk’s Autobahn with an alternate diecast cover.

3. Elm City Sounds, New Haven (visited twice)
Another joint that’s a relatively small room, anyone with an interest in rare jazz, hip-hop first pressings, and intriguing picks on the Wall of Pricey Goodness (term invented moments ago) should stop once. (I love record stores spotlighting big money titles in elevated locations.) Unlike my anecdote about Merle, I found a valuable record here absent a price sticker, inquired about how many shekels it would cost, and the chatty, likable owner Chris threw out a price (that the Internet proved was far below what he should’ve guessed, but how kind of him to not bow to the computer). An imperative stop when in New Haven. Best Purchase: A 12-inch of Sade’s “Nothing Can Come Between Us” (featuring a cover comprising one of my favorite photos of one of my favorite singers).

2. Mystic Disc (visited numerous times)
The owner, Dan, wears his heart on his sleeve and has never been anything but generous (regularly comping parking and taking five bucks off my total). His walls are lined with awestriking memorabilia—a signed copy of Hello Nasty, a massive Ragged Glory ceiling poster, a Graham Nash setlist featuring a personalized message—and he stocks what he knows (all the goodies from the ‘60s and ‘70s plus enough quality platters from subsequent decades). The store is tiny, but Dan has great taste (just don’t ask him how much he loves Annie Lennox), has never refused to discuss a topic, and will likely remember your favorite band if you step in more than once. Swinging by a store in my favorite Connecticut town only enhances my desire to make repeat sojourns. Best Purchase (too many to recall): Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814 (first pressing off the wall/might be my number one spot for Wall of Pricey Goodness buys).

1. Records The Good Kind, Vernon (visited numerous times)
Located by my favorite diner in Connecticut, the New Arrivals section greets you immediately upon walking in, every genre’s well stocked along with oddball formats (including 8-tracks, audiophile/quadraphonic releases, innumerable soundtracks), and the sheer variety of first pressings is perfect for my tastes. The aforementioned owner, Ian, will converse about anything if you initiate the chatter—be sure to ask him what he thinks about Amazon—plus he’s quick on his social media responses. I’ve never left empty-handed, often spending fifty dollars or more because his knack for acquiring awe-inspiring collections is a special talent. If I’m anywhere near Vernon, this place is getting patronized. Best Purchase (countless so I’ll name my most recent): A UK first pressing of The Slits’ Cut, which I messaged Ian about out of the blue on a hunch he might have it…and OF COURSE he did.

I will not provide a concluding summary paragraph. You now know more than any human should about Connecticut record stores (at least without memorizing the Yelp pages of each place). Happy hunting!

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

ADDENDUM (March 21st, 2021): Since posting this hotly debated list, I discovered two new Land of Steady Habits stores via word of mouth. In lieu of rejiggering my list order, brief analysis of the locales—along with a trip to Redscroll’s new location—was essential to satisfying my inner completist. In the words of Billy Eichner, “And a-way. We. Go!”

Redscroll Records Mach II, Wallingford (first and last visit)
Their mammoth new spot is imposing, mainly for how over half of the albums on display are more fringe than J.J. Abrams. I don’t claim to be a know-it-all, but something about combing through racks of 33 after 33 that I’ve never heard of is both an ego sucker punch and leads to indignant behavior I later regret (“Oh, do you wanna listen to Xavier McCloud & the Green-Faced Antelopes later?” I mockingly ask my companion browser while holding up an unsightly cover, forgetting that just because it’s unknown to me doesn’t mean it’s bad). Note: The aforementioned band may be fictitious. Second Note: I find it impossible to believe that thousands of anonymous bands are worth hearing more than once, let alone paying a median $22.99 to own/get rejected when trading in at a date TBD. Like usual, no greeting from the staff upon entry or departure (literally not even a “Have a nice night,” forget the possibility of an exclamation point) or offer to help find a Ryuichi Sakamoto record I inquired about. As the parenthetical aside above indicates, Redscroll and I are officially divorced. Best Purchase: Patti Smith Group’s Wave. 

CBug’s Records, East Windsor
A bit of a confusing one, the “store” is tucked within a two-story building that’s largely an antiques marketplace, but on the second floor sits this somewhat messy yet well-stocked collection of predominantly rock, pop, jazz, and country. Confession: Spent way too long texting with The Old B&C to find out if she wanted the Greaseboard game displayed above a table of discount LPs (she declined due to reason code: wouldn’t “spark joy”). This is both a great place to begin building a collection or finding a few deeper gems to fill gaps. Upon spotting a six-dollar copy of Waylon Jennings’s Honky Tonk Heroes (listen to it now if you’re unfamiliar), I informed the owner—a soft-spoken man—that he might wanna check Discogs and fetch a few more Confederate dollars for it. Best Purchase: A five-dollar first pressing of Willie Nelson’s Phases and Stages, an underpriced classic I neglected lumping in with the Waylon title because I’d been looking for it and one random act of kindness generally meets my daily quota.

Revolution Records, Torrington
Stopped here en route to an afternoon chat/lemon turnover delivery at my gramma’s house a mile down the road. Not only is there a plentiful selection of metal and hard rock deep cuts, I also spotted a bunch of newly released soundboard bootlegs (Tool at Lollapalooza ‘93 was a no-brainer) and managed to find a rare copy of the self-titled Velvet Underground album that instantly made this place legendary (a second, later repress of the same record was also in the rack, a rarity never encountered elsewhere). At the register, I asked if the owner had any Prince, he rattled off a few titles, I said I only needed the Purple One’s first album, he said it was in a nearby box and proceeded to look while I told him not to tease me, and I ultimately left my number because he couldn’t check the back until his girlfriend returned in an hour. As I was hugging Gramma goodbye—after we agreed that using a cellphone during conversation is the epitome of impertinence—I got a call informing me that For Me awaited me. The owner’s girlfriend showed me photos of their trip to Paisley Park in 2018 while I paid, which meant one thing: Brace yourself for more confections, Gramma, because the baby boy’s got future digging to do in your stomping grounds. Best Purchase: The V.U. but the fact that it isn’t a landslide shocks me.

Stay tuned for future addendi. When new stores pop up, I’ll keep you abreast of my assessments. Now that’s the appropriate way to conclude thousands of words about wax: T&A.

ADDENDUM 2 (July 5th, 2022): Took a visit last week to the store that opened in Vernon Vintage Vinyl’s old building, which is worth documenting for the sake of completionism. [Editor’s Note: There’s a store in Milford that’s the one new-ish store in the state I’ve yet to enter. Willimantic Records moved to a vastly superior new space, but the selection remains the same, hence the lack of an updated capsule review although I did find a lovely Steely Day paperback there.] It has become the second store in the state bearing the name of one of my most beloved albums. When Chocolate and Cheese inevitably opens, I assume it’ll be a record store-slash-brewery-slash-dispensary-slash-chocolatier-slash-fromagerie.

Paul’s Boutique, Vernon
The Ghost of Vernon Vintage lingers. Upstairs was messy, cluttered, and lacking air condition (but crammed with CDs); the downstairs implemented the old bins although the disorganization theme persisted by sporting racks full of New Arrivals, Soul, another rack of Soul also in alphabetical order but not merged with the previous Soul station, Audiophile (a Mobile Fidelity/BileDelity if you won’t copy of Led Zeppelin II sitting in the rack for $550 earned an audible, “Come the fuck on!”), and then the A to Z stock (each letter began with Miscellaneous then proceeded to the name acts, an unlikely reversal I found endearing) plus a Wall of Pricey Goodness (first time seeing an original copy of The Fragile). Prices skewed high and many appetizing titles had “eBay” stickers on them although based on overhearing Paul’s conversation with an older man trying to pawn off a classical collection, he’s probably willing to negotiate. Might be intermittently worth checking the online store—not their currently inchoate website—for new arrivals but can’t deem this a destination spot. Best Purchase: Didn’t buy anything but did snag an original pressing of Stevie Wonder’s second album from Ian an hour later, which made the trip a success. Hey ladies? Get funky.

ADDENDUM 3 (August 6th, 2023): Ian, the RTGK owner, hipped me to a refreshing new spot in Stafford Springs, a place I’ve been insisting for years has a classic Main Street in need of hip shops. Following a recent visit to new-ish thrift, vintage clothing, and hippie shops, I returned to find… 

Little Lost Records, Stafford Springs
A corner couch, whiteboard for customer requests, and select consigned clothing (created by locals) are a few of the charmingly different aspects on parade in this three-week-old store. Any spot with ample Japanese pressings (bought the co-owner’s original Obi-sleeved copy of YMO’s BGM with a heartfelt note about his apprehension selling it stickered on front) is surely worth returning to, plus the stock rarely veered too deeply into the tried and true, every third or fourth flip revealing intriguing titles in each rack. Conor With One N, the man behind the counter, proved friendly and chatty with all who arrived. Can’t recall spotting many Astor Piazzolla records in my life, yet in a town I’ve long said could be dropped in the middle of Alabama only for no locals to notice, there one was, meaning I may have to work on an edited zinger. I’ve taken the ride on 190 East thousands of times in my life and today was the most excited I’ve been heading that way in two decades; the result made the return home even more satisfying. Next time you’re in Tolland County, this store, Willimantic Records, and both shops in Vernon would make for the single best (and most geographically logical) one-day vinyl buying session available in Connecticut! Best Purchase: Probably the Fania All Stars’ Latin Soul Rock although The Knack’s “My Sharona” 45 with the picture sleeve was irresistible for four bucks (nothing like a busty lass in a spouse rammer, the less triggerable yet more risqué term for a wife beater).