Records stores are drying up faster than major labels ideas for how not to sink, but music fans are gaining in momentum daily. Luckily we were able to find out about a brand new record shop here in our local area called In The Groove Records. We stopped by to say hello and to see about getting our vinyl in stock. Really stoked that the owner Greg was into it and dug the bands. Go out and support your local independent record store before they are all pushed toward extinction. Take time out of your day, chill out and throw on some vinyl.
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Inyweek.com feature article on Raleigh, NC's In The Groove records |
In The Groove Records Blog
"It's just after 5:30 on a Sunday evening, and Greg Rollins sits on a stool behind the counter of his tiny shotgun music store,
In the Groove Records.
He's closed for the night, but he still beams at the sight of the
vintage LPs he stocks on two purple shelves inside the small room. He's
tired: Yesterday, he ventured to Burlington for a day of buying
inventory at a record fair.
"If you're going for yourself, then I feel like you typically go with
a budget that you're typically going to have to stick to," he explains
excitedly despite his fatigue. The rim of stubble blurring the line
between his face and robust mustache indicates either a late return from
the expedition or a late rise after it. "If you're going for your
customers, then you can approach it a little bit differently, and that
gives you more buying power with a dealer because they're going to cut
you more breaks. The more stuff you pile up, the bigger that percentage
off the top."
Rollins discusses the ins and outs of running his shop with the
aplomb of a seasoned veteran. He's instantly ready to haggle on his
records, quoting prices for obscure items from his brain's invisible
index. An easy salesman, he seems like he's been doing this for years.
In the Groove is Raleigh's newest record store. Opened in
mid-January, it buys, sells and trades used vinyl from its unlikely home
in the Carter Building, a multipurpose arts and office space on
Glenwood South. Rollins has long been an avid collector, but he had no
previous experience in the record store business.
"The past two years, I've really been giving it more thought,"
Rollins says of the idea for the outlet. He pestered friends and fellow
collectors about what they would like to see in such a shop. "I just
kind of coalesced it all into what I think is going to work now."
Rollins, 48, has been around record obsessives most of his life. From
1979 to 1983, his father operated Treasure Chest Records, a beach music
shop on the corner of Raleigh's Peace and West streets. In high school,
he'd frequently correct peers about the kind of music his father's shop
sold. They thought "beach music" meant surf rock and The Beach Boys,
natch, but it's actually a hyper-local style of pop born on the N.C.
coast. The misunderstanding still grates Rollins.
It's puzzling that Rollins waited this long to open up his
own
shop, but he had obligations. From 1985 to 1993, he served in the Air
Force as a radar technician, working his way through stints in
California, Alaska, Texas and Japan. He subsequently spent time working
with electronics and computers, including three years at IBM. But he
burnt out quickly on the tedious work and moved on to residential
construction, where he met his life partner Karen Latta Cain, an artist
who paints murals and artificial landscapes in area houses and
businesses. In 2006, they began sharing her work studio in the Carter
Building.
The bigger question about timing, though, is why Rollins chose now
for this risky venture. The music industry feels like a series of
massive question marks (or are those reapers?), much like the economy
itself. Cain knows about the perils of a small business. Her decorative
work has plummeted, forcing her to close her studio and look for other
employment. Rollins, however, saw another open space in the building as
an invitation to try something new. He paired his own funds with a
$2,000 loan from his father, purchasing two large record collections and
readying the space when it became available near the end of 2011. His
financial security rides on his lifelong dream.
"It was very scary for him to have to build something that he had to
jump on right away," Cain says. "It doesn't worry me anymore because
he's open, and I see how much he's accomplished."
Rollins also sees little reason to dwell on the risks, especially
when he can so easily bask in the dreamland he has created. His
self-made bins are already packed with records, while displays overhead
highlight some of his more impressive finds—a Japanese KISS LP and a
copy of the Misfits' coveted
Earth A.D.
Most of his stock hews to the classic rock canon, a reality Rollins
says is more about what's available than his own taste. Healthy Beatles
and Stones sections invite novices and collectors alike. But behind the
purple counter, Rollins keeps the kind of rare treasures that will
require a little extra motivation to make him give up. On opening week,
these included a first-pressing of Miles Davis'
Bitches Brew and a copy of Cry of Love's
Brother, a particularly special piece for Rollins, as the Raleigh outfit rehearsed in the basement of the Carter Building.
For now, In the Groove carries no new records, but when and if he
decides to add current releases, local bands will be his first priority,
he says. He already carries
Tobacco A-Go-Go, a rescued collection of '60s garage songs from North Carolina.
The store's blog, which normally highlights interesting or unique record covers, recently featured Raleigh punk outfit Stripmines.
"To me, it's supporting the scene," Rollins explains. "If you've got a
local scene happening, and you've got a local band where they've spent a
grand or two on a 200-copy release of something they've had printed
themselves, I think it's almost a responsibility to support these
people. Get their stuff in your shop. Let people know it's here. It's
for them, and it will come back to you eventually."
This local focus, he hopes, might one day expand beyond peddling
records and into the role of archivist. He speaks highly of the label
Paradise of Bachelors, whose Said I Had a Vision compiled tracks from
N.C.-based songwriter and record producer David Lee, and Marshall Wyatt,
whose Raleigh-based Old Hat Records has incorporated lost tunes into
rousing collections like 2010's
Gastonia Gallop. Eventually, he
hopes to use his resources to construct similar collections. Namely,
he'd like to investigate Rev. Moses Mason, a Louisiana blues man from
the '20s who may have also been a street preacher, but maybe not. The
mystery lures Rollins.
"If something's happening in a local area, and you have the access to
it and you're able to expose a larger audience to it, I think everybody
benefits," Rollins says. "Every region has their own unique sound. I
see my role and other collectors' role as getting this stuff out to a
larger audience."
Those goals keep Rollins motivated, but he has plenty on his plate
now. He's constantly running through promotional ideas. Some are
traditional (the possibility of Record Store Day) and some are not
(constructing a sign made from copies of Herb Alpert's Whipped Cream
& Other Delights to set outside the building). Any record store is a
chancy endeavor, especially now, so he reckons it will take creative
marketing and a well-curated stock to keep him in business.
"I will take certain risks," Rollins says, referencing "Who dares
wins," a motto of the British Special Air Service. During his time in
the Air Force, he and his buddies would mention that motto each time
they were scared to approach a member of the opposite sex. It applies
here, too.
"I try to keep that in the back of my mind, that you can't do it
unless you do it," he says. "It's just that simple. I'm willing to take
the risk, and if it doesn't work out, well, I did it. I can say I did
it.""