Another Two Bite the Dust

How to Run a Record Shop in a Digital Age

My writing on music seems to get more readers than what I write about EU politics so let me return to the fans’ favourite.

This week, two record (“vinyl) shops in Brussels are closing down: Dust Dealers in St Gilles, specialising in jazz, soul, hip hop, African and Latin American music; and BXL Central, specialising in, well, everything and nothing.

I will be sad to see only one of them go. Dust Dealers, run by knowledgeable enthusiast Julien from Biarritz, was a delight to visit. There was always something new to covet. Julien’s speciality (his “USP” as marketing people call it) was Japanese imports of classic and hard-to-find jazz albums. I say his USP but over time other shops caught on and you could see the same tell-tale paper wraps with Japanese characters appearing in the racks of other retailers.

Julien’s prices were reasonable though he had a display of rarities that got more expensive as they (and your eye) went up the wall. I baulk at paying more than €40 for a single LP though I have of course done it. The wall displays were nice to look at but I spent my time doing what record collectors call “crate digging”, i.e. thumbing through LPs in the display racks or “bins”, looking for something unusual or cheap or increasingly something from a new obsession. A few months ago, I developed a craving for Brazilian music from the 50s to the 80s. Julien catered to my appeite with obscure compilations from a time when Dutch company Philips was a cool record label rather than a maker of mood lighting.

Most of all, the pleasure of visiting Dust Dealers was to imbibe Julien’s knowledge and taste from the discs he played in the store and the numerous chats we had together. Being of a certain age, he actually reminded me of records from my younger years that I had forgotten or neglected, like overproduced albums by jazz guitarist and smooth soul vocalist George Benson, featuring string sections. Check out his version of Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit” on CTI Records (Benson’s, not Julien’s). It’s relatively easy to find and not too expensive.

I spent a lot of money at Dust Dealers but I got a dose of endorphins every time I did so. I still do when I pick up a disc that came from Julien’s shop. I now have an impressive number of records by Bill Evans and Keith Jarrett (two of the greatest jazz pianists and, in fact, musicians ever) plus underrated guitarist John Abercrombie. Check him out if you like Pat Metheny or John Scofield.

Julien is closing his shop because he wants to do something else. Not because he’s gone bust (he hasn’t). He just wants a change. He’s not clearing his stock at bargain prices (more’s the pity). He’s just closing a chapter of his life (and, for that matter, mine). True to type, he’s having a party to celebrate on 21 September.

By contrast, BXL Central, near the Comic Book Museum and Belgium’s National Bank, is closing after only 18 months in business. BXL Central had a huge stock of vinyl and that, I think, was part of its problem. The store is on the ground floor of the office building of Belgian record label PIAS (in a building designed by architect Victor Horta). The owner/manager Bart used to run a bookshop in Gent and was talked into opening the Brussels store by the boss of PIAS, Kenny Gates, who wanted something cool for the ground floor.

Bart had a huge stock and the best selection of Americana vinyl (a category that includes country, alt country and roots rock) I have ever seen in Belgium and possibly anywhere in the EU. But there were a few things about the shop and the way it displayed the records that made me wonder whether it would survive. The “bins” or racks of discs were too tightly packed, so you struggled to do any “crate digging”. You had to pull a big stack of records out and lay them on the next bin to create the space to flick through the remaining vinyl. Records from the same genre were also placed on the floor so you had to bend down (not so easy for us ageing enthusiasts) to make sure that you had checked all the stock.

Then, there were hardly ever any bargains, sales or reductions on discs that had been hanging around unsold. The chances of picking up a bargain are what brings collectors back to the same shop time and time again in the hope of picking up that overpriced album for a song (not literally). If BXL Central discounted records to clear, I don’t remember ever seeing them.

I think that the problem with BXL Central was that Bart had too many records. I understand that record shops have to buy their stock from distributors so there’s a major capital investment involved. Bart didn’t seem to have that problem. I suspect that he got his stock cheap from PIAS or maybe even for free (i.e. he only had to pay for what he sold). That may explain why there were hardly any sales.

Bart worked with his son in the shop. But he seemed not to be there a lot of the time and, while his son, was friendly and gave some good tips (especially about new and upcoming Belgian artists), the place lacked the sharing of the knowledge, that intimate yet unspoken bond between customer and shopkeeper, that is the secret sauce of a record shop.

You had that with Julien at Dust Dealers. Caroline Music in the centre of Brussels, opposite the Ancienne Belgique concert venue, has at least four regular guys working there. Each of then has his own tastes. Mine seem to align best with Massimo’s. My other favourite shop, Tropicall, on rue Haute in the Marolles, has Max and Quentin, the youthful “veterans” of Veals and Geeks in the centre near the Manneken Pis.

What BXL Central acked was that easy rapport that made you want to go back time and time again and “hang out” with Bart and his son. I remember visiting the place once, struggling to work my way through the bins and eventually leaving the shop without having bought anything. I told this to friends and the guys at Tropicall, saying that I’m not sure that BXL Central will survive if I no longer enjoy going there.

I take no pleasure in being proved right. Bart was a nice guy and very knowledgeable. He also got me copy of Midlake’s live album at the Roundhouse for which I will be forever grateful. He told me that his other great passion was cooking and he spent his summer working in a high-end restaurant in France. I’m not sure you can have two great passions in life. Inevitably, one of them will suffer and lose out.

I am not sorry to see BXL Central close because I had lost the initial hormone rush of discovering a new record store that stocks records by artists you like.

I am sorry that Dust Dealers will no longer be there but I am happy for Julien that he has another project that he is excited about. I know that many of you find the obsession with 12-inch plastic discs strange (it also extends to CDs and streaming services in my case). But I think that music is the most important thing in my life apart from my girlfriend and my family. It ranks after art and my football team. Going to a record shop is still the most fun I can have.

Julien, I wish you all the best for your next project. I know that music will be at the heart of whatever it is. I’m not sure that’s the case for Bart, ex-BXL Central.