Why are record store employees so cynical?

Once the initial thrill of 'working w/ something you love' wears off, you are left w/ the usual hell of ALL retail work - TERRIBLE wages/conditions/hours, shit from management and customers, the sheer horror and stupidity of selling/making profit from non-essential gds and services. It can't help but turn you into a misanthropic fuck with an especially well-tuned creep/moron/thief/timewaster/pervert detector: you forget all the nice cool customers who are no hassle, 'cos you're too busy worrying abt the next arsehole/idiot/psycho to stroll through the door - rec shops, like comic shops, bkshops, video shops etc. - are always always magnets for villains and nutters. What's worse is that it can make you hate the very thing you thought you loved - in retail, it's never ever "all about the music", it's abt profit and exploitation and market forces and all that other soul-wearying bullshit. Hipness and sarcasm and customer contempt are just weapons and shields against psychical and psychic grief.

This isn't to excuse unwarranted rudeness, or ho-hum trendy sneering - personally, I don't care what the fuck the customers spend THEIR money, just as long as I don't have to listen to it. I'm sure that alongside all the terrible rip-off retail encounters, we can all also remember instances of good service, a friendly person behind the counter, an enthusiast who went to the effort of you tracking down that sought-after disc, who turned you on to something new and fine, who opened yr ears, who admired and encouraged yr purchasing power.

Only by shoplifting (ie becoming a cynic myself) could I even up and correct this inauthentic relationship. That would also remove the uncomfortable ambiguity in my relationship with the employees. Instead of pretending to be my friends while secretly judging and categorising me, they would reveal their true colours by shouting 'Freeze! Put your hands on the counter! Pete, call the police!'

However, some guys at the 60's record shop were really rude to me when I asked them if they knew if Todd Rundgren did any songs w/ Female vocalists, cause I heard a song and was told it was Todd Rundgren. He says to me in a snarky voice, "it would help if you knew what the song title was." To which I replied, "Well, I didn't think it would hurt to ask, as I thought you might be an expert -- is there any harm in that!?!" And then he said, "uh, no I guess not".
I never minded when people asked me questions!

Ha - I know the guy you're talking about. That description is spot on. It seems like pretty much all the people who work at that store have vast, untapped reservoirs of disdain.

Brilliance.

I've only set foot in an indie record store once since. It was too scarring.

Hunchbacked, uber-cool, implicitly sneery, visually very impressive.

Sounds like Chris Lechter is back in New York City. He sort of looks like that faux-Baudelaire dude in Red Meat comics, right?

I tried to make as little eye contact as possible as she rang up the Cars and Van Halen LPs I'd picked out.

FROM DOWNTOWN!

< /MarvAlbert>

Lord, Ally, now you got me started!

Listen, we should stop making fun of him, he's a very nice man and a good, quiet neighbor. I love living next to Marv Albert, unlike Regis who almost stepped on my foot once, old bastard.

Dealing with shitty employees made me as crabby as irritating customers.

"Can I have more hours? I need more money."

(hours given)

"Oh, I have to work next Saturday? But there's a party Friday and..."

(hours taken away)

"This job doesn't pay me shit."

(hours given back)

"Oh, Thursday nights aren't very good..."

Erick H knows what I'm talking about.

me, "nah, i missed it."

clerk a, "insane. hey clerk b, you like hella?"

clerk b, "nah. they're wanky. all their records are crap."

all i could do was nod. glad i'm spending $7 on a record that sucks. i got to hear once again how hella is no lightning bolt and how they're wanky despite their fastness. of course, then i got to hear how another cd i got was amazing. i suppose that's how it works. they can wreck on your purchases as long as they compliment your selections enough that you come out on the positive side dollar-wise.

in the guys defense, he's been pretty nice to me on other occasions. perhaps they were making an afternoon of it?
m.

Or what Stence said.

Tom Millar can be that Tom Tolbert Ferengi-lookin' guy.

I'll be Ahmad Rashad < /pipedream >

Dave, I take it you've seen that men's haircolor product commercial with Walt "Clyde" Frazier and "I'm" Keith Hernandez? Shit makes me crack up almost as much as the Redman/Method Man "These Guys Are Odor" ad.

These are the elements of humiliation that forced my resignation from Mondo Kim's. Of course some people have it worse -- right before I left they hired a guy who was to start at $6 an hour, and when he showed up he was told he'd only be making $5 an hour. BELOW MINIMUM WAGE. jesus christ, and he TOOK the job!

Ok, pretend I didn't just announce that I have a theory that the NBA on NBC is modelled after Star Wars.

And, really, if hstencil was making a legit pass and striving for true "rowr" factor, he'd go w/ the Ally :: Summer Sanders comparison.

WARNING: PERTINENT THREAD CONTENT BELOW

The one time I remember having a somewhat legitimate conversation with a record clerk (circa 1995?), I asked him to snag a copy of Shellac's _At Action Park_ that had been perched behind the register since who-knows-when. He asked me what they sounded like, and I said something along the lines of "um...well...um..." and ended up regurtigating some horseshit from the Spin Alt. Guide, and he (rightfully) gave me the time-honored "um...yeah" look of disdain / confusion / fear. I avoid dealing w/ clerks nowadays, just because I like being self-sufficient and wandering aimlessly, tho there is a wee bit of the intimidation factor involved - I don't wanna poke grumpy retail bears with stupid "do you have any Os Mutantes" sticks, especially if they're mired in the sort of 9th-circle shit Doug describes.

Beckett couldn't have written it better.

The boys were all masturbating over some Miami Vice DVD or something like that

I had nothing to do with that.

now all we need is a lispy guy to play Bill Walton (haha, Ned?)

My voice is different. ;-)

I feel really awkward in shops. It's something to do with annoucing myself as who I am by my choices and being judged by a stranger

is true.

The corollary is that having the cute girl (or cute boy, take your pick) at the cash register say, "Oh, great CD!" can give a temporary zing of validation and accomplishment way out of proportion to reason or rhyme. I suppose there's a Nick Hornby character in there somewhere, the guy who keeps buying things trying to get the approval of the store clerk.

Sounds like Chris Lechter is back in New York City. He sort of looks like that faux-Baudelaire dude in Red Meat comics, right?

Yes, but he's only about 25. Oh no, now he's going to Google himself and come onto this thread and sneer at us! Sorry, Chris, I still have that dubious Japanese slasher movie that you snickered about me renting, and I can't give it back because
a) I'm too ashamed
b) I live in Berlin and
c) The fine by now must be about $217.

B-but is she being a girl (human) or a shop assistant (zombie) when she says that? I mean, 'Wise choice, sir! Suits you, sir!' is always nerve-wracking because the 'real person' behind the zombie smile might be whispering 'Asshole!' or spitting in your burger bun.

Ah, no. The Chris Lechter I know and...uh...the Chris Lechter I know must be in his forties by now. I think he wrote a thing or two for The Stranger.

To be more accurate, Chris looks like a cross between the Red Meat Baudelaire and Riff Raff from Rocky Horror.

Take those recommendations scrawled on 'Employee picks', for instance. Do you trust those? And now they're being copied by bigger, more faceless stores, and even bookstores, are they the same? Or the Other Music newsletter. I used to read that as if it were an e mail from a respected friend. Now, though, I feel that it completely lacks objectivity, and the fact that they never pan anything seems deeply suspect and even immoral.

I think its part of the job description at Kim's that you have to abuse the customers. I think ppl would feel sort of let down if they weren't treated badly there. (sidenote - see True Porn Clerk Stories for a hilarious description of why the clerks there would try and intimidate their customers)

i think mosurock said it best... it's a retail job, not unlike a pawn shop (if you're dealing with used records or CDs). You're a captive audience. If you're lucky enough to order stuff for the store, and not have to deal with customers, then I can see the happy aura of such a career. Even then, that aura exists only if your store is one of the rare ones that's actually turning a profit.

(I don't understand the "squirminess" issue regarding record browsing being talked about here)

but don't all those records sound groovy, rockin', totally great, as good as ever, beautiful, to you?

also they seem to have stopped posting neg. reviews of free jazz but the positive reviews still betray a certain confusion.

and it is the first post "Art of the Shuffle" (but for those who haven't read it before, check out the whole thing)

The opposite can also be good, too. NoiseNoiseNoise records in Orange County, CA will write hilarious, sometimes snotty, one-liner reviews on their records, but they still convince me to check it out.

You just gotta have that.. uh.. THANG, I guess.

The kind staff of Northern Lights and Tatters/Platters in Mpls gave so many people the PHEAR (but not me) and taught me that the cream of a city does not necessarily rise to the top (unless you are K Cole and start Rev 105) but instead spends its 4.50/hr-subsidised time doing the following:

Made a fanzine every single month and since three of them were frustrated comix boys, it was pretty good. They also had deeply illustrated recommendations all over the browsers eg. drunk Robert Smith passed out inside bottom of wine bottle next to Cure 12".

Had a 'schedule' for their most persistent/weird customers which they drew on the back of sleeve posters, eg. 'Butthole!', the farm punk who would announce himself/fave band/request for more material by fave band with this one handy word (Thursday shift, 4-8) plus caricatures.

Drove me five hundred miles to see the Smiths in Chicago after getting me the tickets as a Leaving Mininoplace present. We also got to meet them just by chance because we arrived when the group left soundcheck.

Played Shoplifters of the World Unite by the Smiths every time one got caught, while waiting for cops to come, and made thenm sit with their head in the speaker as a form of torture (they would change the words, when singing, to Shirtlifters).

Allowed crushed-out high-school girls to walk them to and from the bank and grab their coffees (the coffee achiever now runs Let It Be and is the size of a small house in Nordeast. That's what he gets for taking the piss outta Nancy and Nellie).

Held amazing Robyn Hitchcock in-stores; all 80s alternateens in Mpls can sing Uncorrected Personality Traits.

Matos and I both know the guy who wanted to make a hip-hop/industrial opera about Heliogabalus and was trying to puzzle it out while working at Lights. But there's a story like that about every person who worked in those stores (and Dan was too young to know Eloise aka Red Door Clinic, the Cure groupie).

O ye of little faith. No, obviously, you're right -- I did a short retail stint at a corporate chain (not a music store -- housewares!), and part of the drill was to always tell customers how great everything they picked out was. (I drew the line at telling people, "I have one at home" when I really didn't, but a lot of the other clerks weren't so squeamish; their attitude was, people want to be affirmed, so affirm them. If they don't like it, they can bring it back.) But at an indie store where that kind of thing isn't part of the standard sales pitch, the occasional times when you happen to pick out something that some particular clerk also really digs can actually feel like a little bit of a connection -- not a meaningful one, really, but not meaningless either. I mean, it makes the experience a little nicer. Of course, I've also had that happen, then gotten the disc home, listened to it and thought, "Ehhhhh..."

Anyway, I do think the clerk-customer dynamic, not just in music stores, is fascinating and underexplored. (Paul Westerberg was good on it, "Customer" and "Waitress in the Sky")

'A very wise choice, if I may say so, sir. This always enhances the impressions of discerning observers and reflects well on judgement, especially when those discriminating friends come to call. Ah, wait, allow me to remove a few specks of dust on the jewel case. There! It's a very fine quality of case, rather heavy duty, isn't it, sir? Would sir like a copy of the new issue of Wire magazine to go with that? It's just arrived from Great Britain, sir will be the first to be seen carrying it on East 4th Street. A very fetching blue cover, look, sir, Jim O'Rourke! Two copies? Certainly, sir. Cash or charge? Ah, American Express Indiecard, that will do very nicely sir. Have an excellent day, sir, and do call again when the need arises!'

Bleecker Bob was being an asshole purely because he could, eg. telling us he would not sell us Happy Mondays tickets at Sound Factory Hacienda thing because we did not have the exact change in cash, while declining to explain why he was not able to break a twenty using the piles of cash available to him right there. I felt this worthy of cross-examination, and he's just one of those guys who can't handle questions (so don't stand behind the counter stealing my oxygen if that's your issue) such as 'seperate accounts?' so I bought the NME, giving me change to complete the other transaction. Which he was extremely shirty about finally doing and got someone else to serve us, and after I got my tickets, that's what I said.

if you're both regularly attending kims video on avenue a, then your clearly making a fuck of a lot more money then his $7 an hour wage. in fact, your making a fuck of a lot more money then me, as the last time i could afford to live in that area was around 1996.

so why don't you 2 fuck off and give the guy a break? in fact, why not be extra nice to him in spite of his rudeness? and pay your late fee; ya cheap bastad! ;)

Ralph (like your cartoons, by the way), I can only quote a chick from True Porn Clerk Stories:

'The clerk is of course automatically cooler than the customer because we are accepted by the public at large as snotty arbiters of movie taste, and also because anybody with a shit job is automatically cooler than someone with a 9-to-5. Too bad, no arguing, we're cooler. Our store is a nasal jewelry, snotty film school sort of place and we employ people coldblooded enough to work with hardcore pornography every single day of our lives (Oh, all right. Just every shift.) so there are plenty of extra bonus cool points right there. I have actually had word come back to me that people sometimes hate coming to our store because they feel their relative coolness is being rather harshly judged. I, as the least cool clerk (Cf: S.'s firing), sometimes feel bad about this, but many of my fellow clerks don't.

'Music underlines that point, especially if it's scary music. Some of the clerks really like death metal - the kind of stuff that goes so far over the top that I end up pissing them off by giggling at it. I don't like death metal, but it does perform a valuable function - it puts a big, scary wall of cool between us and our customers.'

The cooler than thou tactic doesn't wrok so well in Austin, I've found. Most everyone in the city has worked a service job at one time or another, and they know the game too well to be very impressed by it. You don't get cool points for being service industry scum, because everybody's service industry scum. And if you live here long anough, you atart to hate the service industry scum. Especially the one who are the same age as you, and still pretending to be cool.

This gives me the fear.

Have an excellent day, sir, and do call again when the need arises!

I think I'll use this around Reserves. I'll be arrested within the hour.

I smell a rat. It's just too smooth, too generic, with slick paragraphing and cute little themes to each entry. There are none of the rough edges, the slips, the personal details that make a blog feel real. I think it's by a professional writer hoping to sell True Porn Clerk Stories book and film rights. Saying it's a blog that's had one million hits is the perfect way to do pre-hype.

From Momus' link... I, uh, really can't explain how a face can do this:

http://members.fortunecity.com/soundchaser/dunc13.jpg

I worked at Rhino many years ago and acted like a cynical, too-cool prick because that's what I was. In my case it was about self-centered fear. The people there now are very nice.

Yeah but now that Sound Exchange is gone, what record store is there with employees that even try it? 33 Degrees employees don't really go there, and Waterloo is simply too busy.

Very different story in Southern California, however. Sometimes I think people only become record store employees there just for a chance to 'rough it purely for inspirational purposes' and, of course, for their future biography called "Cynical Record Clerk, I"...

they can be quite actively snarky and frequently howlingly wrong, and I do get angry sometimes... but I have to say they've taken pains to de-emphasize their reviews as an attempt at an archival body of definitive music criticism, they're going for a 'you're hanging out at our house' kind of thing, right down to printing the best-of-2002 lists of their many many many customers.

I can't stand the Other Music reviews for some reason, they're just obviously pushing that week's shiniest product, it's just really shallow.

That was pre-Amoebo, though, DB. Everybody's uber-polite nowadays.

One imagines a hardbitten Philip Marlowe tone:

I'm not even open and in comes a customer. Some schmuck, mid-20s, losing his hair, glassy-eyed. I know what he's going to ask for even before he opens his mouth.
'Deerhoof, isn't it?'
'What?'
'You're looking for Deerhoof.'
'How can you tell?'
'Look behind you!'
'Whaddya...?'
He looked. Schmuck.
'Cause you're so wet behind the ears you left a puddle on the floor.'
'Oh, wise guy, huh?'
He fixes me with all the menace a ex-fan of The Field Mice can muster. I crack a sick little grin. The left side of his spotty mug winces.
'I can recommend some other music with tubas in it, Jack. Ever hear The Polyphonic Spree?'
He glances sideways, shifty. 'Nope.' It's time to take off the kid gloves.
'Look, Spud, I don't know why I'm wasting my time talking to you. We don't open until 10am. It's 9.57.'
He turns round. 'Shit.'
There are big sweat stains under his armpits.
'And we don't stock Deerhoof. Beat it, Jock, before I tell Pinkie you want to help him sell zines on the Sunset Strip with Chimp and Fingers.'
'I'm going Mac, but I'll be back!'
'Missin' ya already, Ratfink!'
Jeez, customers. Can't stand 'em, can't kill 'em.

Arthur, you've shattering my crystal palace!

OK, seriously though, that can't be a bad thing at all.. but, man, am I the only one who's a little frightened by the amount of power and change Amoeba has whenever they move into a town? I can't fault Amoeba for doing what they do right and being very successful at it of course (despite the fact that you can buy the most obscure music and then wait in a line that makes you feel like you're at Ikea or Costco).. but they kinda subsume most clientele for most independent stores within the fallout zone, don't they? Maybe I'm just off, but I'd rather have a funny story about a cynical record store employee, than have no choice but to deal with a sea of Mass Warehouse Retail employees unlocking cd cases and scanning codes.

Besides, we'd have less future literature, as Momus illustrated above.

And not to get too psychological up in this mutha, but...

We choose our music as a symbolic extension of ourselves (or to be Jungian, the music chooses us), which is why we get bent out of shape when people invalidate our tastes in music. "They're not just shooting down The Cure," you say to yourself, "they're shooting ME down!" When your symbols get derogated, your chance of living on symbolically goes down the crapper as well, which is why we hurl invective so quickly at those who would tear our playhouse down. Each insult reaffirms our worldview as valid and right, and it's hard to fight that knee-jerk reaction to derogate the musical choices of others. As a former dj and current record store employee, I have to keep reminding myself that the experiences of this person or that person is just as valid as mine, be it Matchbox Twenty or Husker Du.

And a record store -- whether you work it or shop it -- is a living breathing reminder that your symbols are outnumbered and outgunned. Unfortunately, that's why I'm motivated to read and listen to more than I can possibly digest...the more symbols I surround myself with, the richer my life will be. Sure, it's all a sham, but it's one I can dance to.

Now that I have a real job and my record store stuff is just a hobby, working there is fun and almost liberating...I really CAN tell people my views and shelve the retail persona to an extent and not have to worry about being fired or selling some discs so I can eat. Things may still go wrong, but I'm much calmer about them.

(And as a footnote, the psychobabble was "sampled" from the works of Ernest Becker...but there's more than a shred of validity there, I think.)

But it is true that I can't name a record store in Seattle that will give you shit for your music tastes... which is really great. Sonic Boom certainly don't do that.

I like Sonic Boom because they pay VERY WELL for used CDs, but as far as just record store quality and service, Easy Street in lower Queen Anne is the queen, pretty much.

Also, props to Wall Of Sound for being quite unique, and Geoffrey is super cool. Also Jam records in Wallingford, because Jimmy is K-Entertaining and a great guy once you loosen up in his presence.. even though half the city record geeks hate him for reasons I can't comprehend. Zion's Gate is the best dance record store in the U.S. to my experience.

*dodges rotten produce and sharp objects from Ally's direction*

also, I hear that DaVinci Code will change your life -- the veil will be lifted from your eyes.

And, DB, I can't agree re:Easy Street Queen Anne. The people there are friendly, no doubt, but on many occasions I have asked for records and been told they are not out when I know they are, or otherwise been given wrong information about a record. Plus, and this will sound very stereo-typical indie-snobbish, but I find all that shitty merchandise up front really off-putting. The West Seattle location is more fun, plus you can eat there!

Kill people with bad taste so that they never encounter record shops.

OK, now I know you're insane, because there's plenty of places to eat in lower Queen Anne, as Martin, Jen, Donna, Matos, and almost every dining visiting ILXOR can vouch.

Unless you mean, the West Seattle record store itself has its own Easy Street restaurant inside, in which case, fine... you win. (and if so, WHY HAVEN'T WE GONE THERE YET, PEOPLES?)

btw, Scott, despite me having just called you insane, why haven't you hung out with us yet? What's up with that shizat?

And I didn't know people on ILM did stuff, I thought social interaction was shunned.

!!!!!!!

Well, you know, as long as you pay your membership fees and don't piss off Uncle Sal, you're welcome to attend the meetings.

(Kidding, Scott.. jesus, JOIN US ALREADY!)

do yourself a favor and search the word "FAP" sometime

Obviously there's a number of pepole who post a lot who are cynical (myself at times) but I think these boards have a much worse reputation than they deserve. Maybe I'm wrong, though.

(never mind I can't see the "cynicism" nor even sarcasm in the sentence "do yourself a favor and search the word 'FAP' sometime")

x-post ILM

Found that Queen Anne Easy Street has the best used area, so that gets visited often, but I try to split the love between them and the Ballard / Fremont Sonic Booms. Crush-worthy, friendly Fremont Sonic Boom staff, in particular. Plus, they're music *fans*, on top of being clerks - always ready with the "what's playing now?" answer or the willingness to order an out-of-stock item. Particular affection to the Fremont Sonic Boom for having Notwist items, pre-_Neon Golden_. Good in-store shows, too.

you tell us DB!

Clerk: "GOD HELP ME!"

I think Other Music gets a bad rap. I've been going there since the late 90s (though not so much anymore), and I've always found that most of the employees there to be friendly and helpful.

dixons?

i wonder what it takes to be staff at rough trade. i certainly always walk out of there with records i certainly cannot afford. but when i've been round the other end of the shop from the counter and mentioned to a friend the record on was pretty cool, they've heard and told me.

Aw, you just caught Craig on a bad day. I'll make sure to tell him to lighten up.

And they put those little thumbnail reviews on post-it notes on their favourites, and I always look forward to their year-end lists (overall and by genre).

Lovely.

nah, cd discounts. i mean, i shouldn't complain, i've got many a decent bargain there, but the dude is one of the least likeable people i've ever encountered.

And a record store -- whether you work it or shop it -- is a living breathing reminder that your symbols are outnumbered and outgunned. Unfortunately, that's why I'm motivated to read and listen to more than I can possibly digest...the more symbols I surround myself with, the richer my life will be. Sure, it's all a sham, but it's one I can dance to.

Now that I have a real job and my record store stuff is just a hobby, working there is fun and almost liberating...I really CAN tell people my views and shelve the retail persona to an extent and not have to worry about being fired or selling some discs so I can eat. Things may still go wrong, but I'm much calmer about them.

-- Erick H (eshaigh...) (webmail), April 23rd, 2003. (Erick H)

What a great post.

Just for that, I decided to add a copy of Mississippi: The Album to my stack. I told her "good luck with your ball pit" on the way out the door. I probably should have called her an idiot cracker, but it's the only place I can buy vinyl during the bus strike.

i am working at the store right now. three people in a row called to confirm that the cds that they ordered were in, which wouldnt be bad if it werent for the fact that we had already called them to say the cds were in: "hi i am calling to say that i got your call saying my cd is in. is my cd in?". i will prob get another million like this tonight.