April 18 was Record Store Day, an annual tradition intended to promote brick-and-mortar music businesses around the world. As legend had it, in 2008, a group of record store owners in a hotel basement in Fells Point first conceived the idea in a meeting. By the late 2000s, vinyl was in rough shape; the invention of smaller, cheaper and more accessible compact discs made the large, bulky record no longer viable.
Additionally, the rise of digital downloads from sites like Napster marked a major shift away from physical media and signaled the death of the LP. In response to this decline and the dominance of corporate retail chains, these owners were inspired by a similar promotional holiday — Free Comic Book Day — to drive foot traffic by offering a slew of hyper-exclusive releases to independent record stores for one day.
Each year, in anticipation of the event, the official Record Day Store website releases a list of the year’s releases. This encourages customers to build relationships with local record stores since each store can only stock a certain portion of records based on shopper preferences. Although I have been collecting records for a few years, this was my first time participating in Record Store Day because I had been turned off by the notoriously long lines and titles that didn’t really catch my eye.
However, this year, with a fuller(ish) wallet and a burgeoning record collection, I was initially pulled in by Hampden’s Celebrated Summer Records. The store, mostly specializing in punk releases, was hosting an exclusive pressing of Maryland-based artist Snail Mail’s new album Ricochet, which was limited to 300 copies and boasted hand silk-screened Melvins-inspired alternative artwork. Snail Mail’s Lindsey Jordan, a solo guitarist, would also be signing records for fans from 11 a.m.–12 p.m. — an exclusive opportunity to be able to chat with one of the most exciting artists in the indie rock scene.
The night before Record Store Day, I spent some time digging into the records I could purchase at one of the many records stores in the Baltimore area. I was immediately caught off-guard by the sheer quantity of solid releases there were: from a breathtakingly serene live album by indie folk band Big Thief’s Adrianne Lenker to the legendary noise rock producer Steve Albini’s rough mixes for the pioneering post-rock band Slint’s untitled EP recorded before its famed cult-classic Spiderland. After doing some research on my best options, I set an alarm for 9 a.m. and eagerly awaited the next day’s festivities.
After waking up early (for me), my girlfriend and I set out to make the half-hour walk to Celebrated Summer Records. There was already a lengthy line full of excited fans by the time we got there. After 15 minutes of standing in the heat, we paid for our numbered record, which totaled to just under $40 — a fair price for a product clearly created with so much time and effort. Soon after, I explored the store’s collection of Record Store Day exclusives. I spotted the Lenker and Slint projects, as well as the Salad Days soundtrack, featuring the music of D.C. hardcore legends like Jawbox and Youth Brigade. Unfortunately, I arrived too late for the rarer releases since the store sold out of Ethel Cain’s Inbred EP and a compilation of John Coltrane live recordings. As we moved closer to the entrance, I ultimately decided against purchasing any other titles (at least, until after I met Lindsey).
Once we were ushered into the store’s main area, I made my girlfriend stand in line for me (thanks, Nancy!) while I made a beeline to the used titles section. This is where I found a slightly worn copy of Destroyer’s Kaputt — a beautiful medley of singer-songwriter, pop and jazz — for $15, a steal. Upon reaching the front of the line, Jordan kindly signed both her record and the Destroyer one for us, and we chatted briefly before we made the trek back to Hopkins. Overall, the well-planned, well-coordinated event went smoothly, and I was very satisfied with my records.
A few hours later, following a quick nap to recover from the early wake-up, I again coerced my girlfriend into accompanying me to another record store — this time all the way to Fells Point’s The Sound Garden, aka Rolling Stone Magazine’s second-best record store in America. Although I’d been there a few times (for the Black Country, New Road and Twenty One Pilots listening parties), I was still overwhelmed by the sheer selection of titles. What followed was nearly two hours marked by indecision and me going, “Oh my God, they have [insert album here]!” Eventually, I was satisfied with five records, which I pared down from the twenty that caught my eye. After exercising heavy restraint, I walked away with a copy of the Deafheaven KEXP Sessions live single.
Overall, my first Record Store Day was an incredible success. Being able to chat with fellow record collectors reaffirmed my love for music. It reminded me that, beyond the artificial scarcity and limited pressings, what makes record collecting so meaningful is this shared passion and community. Record Store Day has something for all collectors — everyone, from Swifties to metalheads to children, will be satisfied with the releases.
