Slinging Vinyl in a Digital Age

Visited a Virgin Megastore lately? How about a Tower Records? Sam Goody?

With big-name CD stores falling like dominoes, it's easy to get the impression that that decades-old adolescent and 20-something stronghold, the record store, is no longer viable in the era of digital downloads.

But Sound Station, which has sold underground and mainstream albums to musical gormandizers for nearly a quarter century, proves that the mom and pop independent record store can still thrive, provided it's run with real passion.

"The reason we've lasted is because we love music," said manager Bob Larsen, 35, a compact, bearded man who has worked at the store since his parents opened it in 1988.

That year, Larson said that his mother and father were poised to open a sewing shop. But his older brothers changed their parents' mind. The brothers were metalheads, they wore their hair long over leather jackets, and too often, Larsen said, they could not find the latest records by AC/DC, Judas Priest or other heavy metal bands at the local record stores.

"They convinced my mom she shouldn't open a sewing shop because Westfield could really use a record shop that catered to young people," Larsen said.

The Larsens opened the store where the Subway sandwich shop now resides. It soon became a haven for heavy metal fans, punk rockers and the hardcore scene. But that doesn't mean its catalogue wasn't diverse. The walls featured posters and vintage concert announcements for Buddy Guy, Jimi Hendrix, John Coltrane, The Ramones, Joy Division, Tom Waits, Slayer, John Lee Hooker and Frank Zappa.

Fans of all tastes could find their favorite artists or find something new. That quality has remained since the shop moved to its new, larger location in the early 1990s, and the customers have remained loyal. 

"I've literally watched a bunch of my clients grow up," Larsen said. "I remember when they were in middle school and I remember when the graduated from college. I don't think of them as clients, I think of them as family."

The store's catalogue has evolved with the times. First, customers started asking for rap records. Then jazz. Followed by funk, reggae, indie rock, Afropop, soul, blues, country and every style in between. Larsen said not only did he open up his client's minds to new music, they opened up his. He was shrewd enough to make good business out of his music sense.

"It's a customer-based business. If we don't have what customers want, we'll order it, plus an extra copy in case he tells his friend," Larsen said. "We've sold a ton of CDs that way."

Larson's appetite for sharing musical discoveries was on display last week, when a longtime customer came in and handed him a stack of burned mix CDs. Larsen reciprocated. The name of grungy do-it-yourself rock hero J. Mascis, not often uttered in corporate record stores, was invoked several times during the transaction.

That customer, Brian de Mello, 33, said he has shopped at Sound Station since it opened. The first CD he bought there was by Faith No More, he said, and the first cassette he bought was by Run DMC. He said he's visited other independent record stores around New Jersey, including Vintage Vinyl in Fords, and Princeton Record Exchange. Sound Station, he said, has remained his favorite.

"Here you have more time to look around," he said. "It's a relaxed atmosphere, so you find hidden gems."

De Mello, a drummer, is also featured on several CDs in Sound Station's special section devoted to local bands. Larsen said that de Mello's group, Montagna & the Mouth to Mouth, is a top local seller.

"It's important to me to sell local music," Larsen said, who does not take a cut from any of the local CDs he sells. "That's how you build a scene."

Larsen also plays percussion in a recording project called Brick Window, which is based in Rahway. Their albums are for sale at Sound Station.

Sound Station has remained a staple, even as Westfield's business district has significantly changed over the past two decades. Restaurants and high-end boutiques dominate the downtown. Conspicuously absent is the kind of scruffy, homegrown love in abundance at Sound Station.

"I would hate to see what Westfield would be like if we weren't here," said Liz Walsh, 32, who also works at the store. "Kids would have to hang out at Starbucks. It kind of freaks me out."

Larsen and Walsh take pride in the depth of their musical knowledge and believe it gave them the advantage over the mega-CD stores.

"Yes, those corporate stores had more money than us," Larsen said. "But they were stale, their selection sucked, none of the workers helped the customers discover new music they might like, most of them just didn't care."

Not that Sound Station has been completely immune from the changes in how people get music. Computer downloads, especially pirated music, brought the industry to its knees. Larsen said he has had to lay-off three employees, leaving only him and Walsh to mind the shop. Still, by virtue of building a loyal customer base of music lovers, Sound Station was insulated from the worst of the downturn.

"Our customers are music fanatics," he said. "They want to hold the music they buy, they want to see it, touch it, read the liner notes, look at the pictures. You can't do that online." 

Larsen said that he still consults his mother, father and brothers when making big decisions about the store, such as adding a DVD section. It's all in the spirit of keeping the business in the family, for the family.

"I've been working here since 1988, it's my life," Larsen said. "I haven't done anything else, I'm really passionate about it."