Vinyl and Coffee

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Walking past the bubble typeface SOUL, BLUES, and Jazz’s refraction (JAZZ, NEW JAZZ, JAZZ VOCAL, JAZZ FUNK), I wanted to stop, but I couldn’t. Like a anglerfish’s vulturous light, the mushroom lamp on the counter pulled me towards it. Before I knew it, I was being hugged by a low, metal subway ceiling and by music the soul could munch on, standing on a checkering of black and white in front of a 350€ FELA KUTI album. Also here, a totally disinterested man in black frames was standing, neither occupied nor unoccupied. There was a lot to see, but not far to look, and I locked on the espresso machine off to the side. The one-group LELIT popped against an emerald wall under a vintage, backlit FRIGIDAIRE sign. The green and luminescence, even without the cubicle-ready Mickey with open arms standing atop it, blared go.   

“The coffee is more to go with the records,” the counter man deterred. Oh, I’d still look at records. But, in my world they are undoubtedly coffee’s complement. There was another guy, the weak “occupied” part of the situation I walked in on, and he took his knit beanie and button-down Carhartt shirt over to the espresso machine. He knocked me out of my trance when he held out the long shot he pulled for me. When I was about to settle back into soaking up any nearby title my eyes could focus on and appreciating the wall of comic book pages setting the scene for CALIFORNIA SOUL, he surprised me by circling back. 

“Where are you from?”

The conversation was everything you aspire to find in a record shop. He recommended French radio stations for me to tune into on my continuing road trip: Radio FIP, World Wide Radio, NTS, and Radio Grenouille. Radio Meuh was a given, considering that mentioning I was on my way to Radio Meuh’s Circus Festival was what started it all. This guy, Moroccan with an American accent—having spent his childhood in East Berlin—used to work that gig during his time with the radio stations. We struggled together to remember the name of signed rapper French Montana, who he informed me was Moroccan. Oh, don’t get me wrong, these were the choice words he had to say about him, especially as we both slammed his stage name. Soon we had moved on to how there’s no competition: east coast hip hop is just better than west coast (and will forever be). We talked about the commercialization of the Black Eyed Peas and Cee Lo Green, the former a tragedy the latter a success story. And, as he rolled his loose tobacco under the mushroom lamp, our conversation closed with him almost taking to the air. “And David Guetta is shit!” He did permit a minor redaction for his hip hop mixing era, but still…shit. If you go into a record shop and don’t end up talking about music, you’ve misplaced the needle. When all the music junkies stop duckin for a smoke out front, it’s then that you discover Joao de Bruco/R.H. Jackson, HiTech, Pellegrino, La Granja Orchestra, Halima, Roc Marciano, and Donny Hathaway by flipping through the plastic milk crates and flakeboard displays, slapping a vinyl onto the Sony turntable or sheerly by touch and sight. With air incensed by a little cigarette smoke, you sift shoulder to shoulder, sometimes slide past arched backs. Compelled, you dance to the get down that’s all for the sake of finding your next groove. 

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Drink: Espresso

To their credit, with the portafilter locked in, they asked whether I wanted it short or long. Always long. And with that—and no place to put it down—a clear, double-walled espresso glass was in my hands. Impressively, he pulled a shot of coffee from an Annecy roaster, Brand Cafes & Thes (roasting since 1959). The shot was a little thin, but there weren’t any disagreeable flavors. Hot sips with a comfortable hold, the few ounces complements record perusing well enough. After all, as the staffer emphasized, that’s exactly what it’s for.

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Price: Espresso=1€

Hours: Tuesday–Saturday {14–19}; Sunday–Monday {CLOSED}

Extra Notes:

There is a WIFI network, but I sure as heck didn’t ask about it. Didn’t need it. There is so much to see and explore in this store. Honestly, it felt disrespectful to ask. 

DO NOT MISS THE MURAL OUTSIDE PAINTED BY SAKOASKO ABOUT 2 YEARS AGO. IT IS SO INCREDIBLY DOPE.