My Turn: Closing Shop—And A Life | Newsweek My Turn

Closing Shop—And A Life

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"Sal, I'm looking for a song called 'Desiree'."

"By Neil Diamond or the Left Banke?"

"That's it—the Left Banke! Same voice as 'Walk Away Renee.' Sal, you kill me."

I was good at my job. Everyone knew that. The way Erika knew my order, I knew what my customers wanted and needed. I'd put avant-garde jazz on the side for Dan, Elvis Costello and power pop for Jules and any rare Clapton, pre-1973 only, for Tony. When I had to shut down in 2005—people just stopped buying CDs—it broke the hearts of many, but it really tore mine to shreds. How could something I love so much and am so good at just be removed from my life?

I disappeared … sort of. Unlike Erika, I left a forwarding address and an e-mail contact. But so many who relied on me during my tenure as the "retail rock star" seem to find little need for me now. People who used to ask about my life stopped asking. No more "How's the piece you're writing coming along?" "How was Jazz Fest in New Orleans?" "Having a BBQ this weekend—hope you and your wife can make it." Were those people wondering about me now, the way I occasionally wonder if Erika made the move to the Crescent City?

I was a rock star when my business was successful and I had something to offer. Now that I am unemployed, something I hadn't planned on being at the age of 44, am I just another schnook in the Big Apple? Everyone has a mom-and-pop shop he likes to think he discovered. Everyone has an Erika or Sal. And as long as retail shops still exist, people will find new Erikas and new Sals. But I don't think all the Erikas and Sals can say the same. We need another 15 minutes.

Nunziato lives in Queens, N.Y.

Let's try that again without all the punctuation glitches.

Sal-

Sixteen years ago I shut down my two record stores. Thirteen years ago I stopped working in record stores all together. Nevertheless, my passion for music has not waned. Certainly I don't have my finger on the pulse of all 'the need to know bands', but like yourself once you learn how to do this, the skill never goes away. Also like you I miss being a retail rock star and I miss the connection with my customers. But overtime you'll run into them and they will enthusiastically thank you for that rare import LP you found for them or that one CD which changed their way of listening to music forever. And they will ask how you are doing, wish you the best, and you'll feel like a million bucks for your actions in the past.

Despite these intermittent periods of contact with your past the thirst for 15 more minutes never leaves some of us. Sure, I've moved on and become a professional in another field (Clinical Neuropsychology???I'm a Psychometrician). But the endless volume of music knowledge that I have is what makes me tick. I'd drop it all for another chance to enter the music arena again.

People like you and me are rare indeed. We are these odd gatekeepers of knowledge to a form of art that is everywhere but often overlooked due to an industry that has turned it into product. At times I wonder what the real difference between a Twinkie and the endless stream of well-built, but flabby talented, pop stars truly is? But I say people like us need to come together and let the industry know that we are very important to their continued existence. We always moved product in high volumes. From those artists who have the PR machine behind them, to the amazing art projects of the truly talented, we moved it all. We need to show the industry that we are more vital than online blurbs and links like "other customers who bought this CD also bought____." We've worked endless hours learning about and listening to one of humanities most unique attributes. We???ve learned about the people behind the art, the personal history and culture that influenced the art, and we watched our culture change because this art. With unbridled passion we played song after song of our favorite artists to any customer who asked. Thus, we improved the lives of so many people when we sold a piece of music. Now, it's our turn. Our return is necessary to the survival of this beautiful art, it doesn't just sell itself.

Hang in there my friend...the future is unwritten.

p.s. Check out Cory Chisel & The Wandering Son...a rare talent from the hinterlands of the Midwest.

Member Comments

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Posted By: ktunafish @ 07/17/2008 12:37:27 PM

Sal,
Great article, you are obviously a gifted writer as others have already pointed out.
Seems to me there is still come type of angle were you can exploit with your talents
and passion for and in music. In the 'if you can't beat 'um, join 'um' category have
you considered the e-commerce front end to Amazon.. more information here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/seller-account/mm-summary-page.html?ie=UTF8&topic=200257920
and/or possibly writing music reviews?

Again, great article and thanks for sharing it.

- Kyle
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Posted By: cjpfalzgraf @ 07/09/2008 4:52:01 PM

Oh well, I guess the software battles rage on. Please fill in the appropriate punctuation where needed. Take care Sal.
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Posted By: cjpfalzgraf @ 07/09/2008 4:47:19 PM

Let's try that again without all the punctuation glitches.

Sal-

Sixteen years ago I shut down my two record stores. Thirteen years ago I stopped working in record stores all together. Nevertheless, my passion for music has not waned. Certainly I don't have my finger on the pulse of all 'the need to know bands', but like yourself once you learn how to do this, the skill never goes away. Also like you I miss being a retail rock star and I miss the connection with my customers. But overtime you'll run into them and they will enthusiastically thank you for that rare import LP you found for them or that one CD which changed their way of listening to music forever. And they will ask how you are doing, wish you the best, and you'll feel like a million bucks for your actions in the past.

Despite these intermittent periods of contact with your past the thirst for 15 more minutes never leaves some of us. Sure, I've moved on and become a professional in another field (Clinical Neuropsychology???I'm a Psychometrician). But the endless volume of music knowledge that I have is what makes me tick. I'd drop it all for another chance to enter the music arena again.

People like you and me are rare indeed. We are these odd gatekeepers of knowledge to a form of art that is everywhere but often overlooked due to an industry that has turned it into product. At times I wonder what the real difference between a Twinkie and the endless stream of well-built, but flabby talented, pop stars truly is? But I say people like us need to come together and let the industry know that we are very important to their continued existence. We always moved product in high volumes. From those artists who have the PR machine behind them, to the amazing art projects of the truly talented, we moved it all. We need to show the industry that we are more vital than online blurbs and links like "other customers who bought this CD also bought____." We've worked endless hours learning about and listening to one of humanities most unique attributes. We???ve learned about the people behind the art, the personal history and culture that influenced the art, and we watched our culture change because this art. With unbridled passion we played song after song of our favorite artists to any customer who asked. Thus, we improved the lives of so many people when we sold a piece of music. Now, it's our turn. Our return is necessary to the survival of this beautiful art, it doesn't just sell itself.

Hang in there my friend...the future is unwritten.

p.s. Check out Cory Chisel & The Wandering Son...a rare talent from the hinterlands of the Midwest.