Still Standing

As we pulled into the parking lot at Birdland Music in Virginia Beach on Tuesday, I said to my wife, Sharon, “Well, Birdland is still there.” This really was no surprise to either of us, since I had still been receiving e-mail newsletters from the store. But with the way indie stores have been biting the dust the past few years, it’s best to appreciate what you have. Next time you stop in, it might be gone.

A day or two before visiting Barry Friedman and Co. at Birdland, I had been in a bit of a music funk. None of the music I owned was interesting to me. But it wasn’t like I was itching to go out and buy more tunes, either. I blame my friend Heather, who came over for dinner recently and admitted that she had been feeling blasé about her collection. I made her a mix CD, “Disco Still Sucks: Sean Loves the ’70s, Vol. 1,” in an effort to rekindle her interest. I’m not sure it worked. Even worse, her disinterest seemed to have rubbed off on me. It was music funk by osmosis. My self-diagnosis was confirmed when I spent a couple hours trolling through a chain store at the beach that carries a pretty good selection of new and used CDs and came away empty handed. So bad was my situation that I put down a used copy of Neil Young’s “Freedom” despite the asking price of $6.99.

“Maybe it’s over,” I said to Sharon. “Maybe I hate music.”

It isn’t, and I don’t. All it took was a trip back to Birdland. There’s something about being around other people who are enthusiastic about music. It’s also beneficial to be in a store where said enthusiastic music fan keeps the bins stocked with treasures waiting to be discovered. In no time, I was uncovering them. There was a Louvin Brothers “Tragic Songs of Live”/“Satan is Real” combo, a couple of Michael Nesmith twofers and an Eddie Hinton disc. The R&B section turned up a Bill Doggett compilation I’d been hunting for. There were newer releases, too. I grabbed the new Malcolm Holcombe disc, Josh Ritter’s “In the Dark: Live at Vicar Street,” and the new one from Ray Bonneville, an artist I’d been turned on to during a previous visit to Birdland. I also found the new, remastered version of Van Morrison’s “It’s Too Late to Stop Now.” And it was four bucks cheaper than at Borders. Take that, chain stores.

When we arrived, Barry was all alone. Perhaps this was because it was a 75-degree day in early February. During my stay, more folks came wandering into the store. They all left with something, because even if Barry didn’t have what they were looking for, he was happy to order it. In the meantime, he could recommend a few other things they might like. You just don’t get that at Best Buy or any other big-box store.

As I checked out, Barry told me that the indie stores that make it through this year are going to be around for the long haul. I’d read something to that effect in No Depression recently. Even with downloads on the rise, the CD business is still pretty good. Collectors still are going to want to have something they can hold in their hands while they listen to the music. Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but it makes sense to me. In any event, I left what I could afford in the Birdland till, and promised to visit again in September. I hope that it, and the visits of other regular customers, will be enough to keep Birdland afloat through this year and many more. The best discoveries are made by chance, not by typing in a name and clicking on “search.” The bins are pregnant with possibility. The great finds help keep you actively enjoying music. Barry, and Birdland, brought me back around in just a couple hours.

On my way out of town, I stopped at that chain store and grabbed the Neil Young disc. It was way too good to pass up for that price.