We live in an era where all kinds of physical products are being rapidly and steadily phased out, as the world turns increasingly toward intangible transactions and markets. Obviously, art could not remain unaffected by all this, so you don’t need me or this article to remind you that most people out there listen to music through online platforms or watch movies via streaming. The concept of a collection hasn’t, of course, disappeared, but it’s clearly shrinking—or, if you prefer, being kept alive by a loyal group of… persistent older people. Personally, in my mind, we are the defenders of the faith, though I must admit that this sounds like something between Priest and Manowar.
Amid all this modern-day madness, where everything moves at a dizzying pace, the mind is unable to process the barrage of information, and the ability to concentrate is now a privilege of the few, we come across a paradox that I would say is also an exception on a global scale. I’m referring to the record stores in the city center that are holding their ground and… standing like beacons, reminding us of bygone eras. Surely the days of Rock City, Happening, Athina’s Record Store, Paloma, Jazz Rock, and so many other record stores can never return. A different world, different times that now seem so distant to all of us. However, the mere fact that today in the center of Athens, within a radius of less than one kilometer (literally), there are not one, not two, but 7 (in words, seven) record stores—all of which are fully up-to-date—is a small miracle! And we’re talking about record stores that specialize in hard & heavy music… with one exception. So we have No Remorse, Metal Era, Reload, Music Corner, Bowel of Noise, Le Disque Noir, and Eat Metal, while there are also other, more alternative record stores in the Exarchia area.
Bucking the trend of the times, then, there’s still a pulse from the buying public, which continues to support (and quite rightly so) those businesses that are also fighting their own battles. A Saturday morning stroll—aside from being a decades-long ritual for some of us—gives you the chance not only to expand your collection but also to run into old friends and familiar faces. You may not know most of them personally, but… you recognize their faces, and it’s as if you’ve known them for years. It’s a unique aspect of this ritual. And while, as we said, there may not be the same energy and mass…outpouring as in the ’80s and ’90s, we’re still here. Businesses have, of course, adapted, so there’s no longer the luxury of keeping stock, resulting in the unwritten rule of “buy now or cry later.” Not to mention that, often, finding an album turns into a treasure hunt, as distribution companies frequently supply stores in dribs and drabs. But that’s a conversation for another time.
In closing, I recall the following conversation with a distant nephew of mine who lived in Boston. I ran into him in Taygetos at a family gathering, and the conversation turned to music. My nephew was 15 at the time, and his favorite band was Aerosmith. After we’d analyzed the Aerosmith phenomenon and each of us had shared our favorite albums, he happily told me that he had them all… on his computer’s hard drive (Spotify didn’t exist yet). A few days ago, his mother called me to pass on this message from my nephew: “Tell Sakis that I bought all of Aerosmith’s albums on CD!” This nephew of mine is now 33 years old…
Sakis Nikas
