The HMV music store on Oxford Street is to close down. No one buys music anymore. There is always E music which can be downloaded. Nevermind, the ethics of it.
The sad part of it all is that the store was a huge part of our wild and willful growing up years. Not just me, but a bunch of us who lacked heating in our rooms. We had no access to a guitar or a piano. Had to work 18 hours a day to meet submission deadlines and exam dates. And of course the audio tape recorders that we had, ate into the electricity bill. Costs money to have a warm and well lit room plus some music. The HMV store at Oxford Circus was the best music store that I have visited. All kinds of music, all genres. From Western Classical to Ravi Shanker. They had the latest Who to the oldest Chant music. Once Dad once asked me to pick up a very anglicised version of the Gayatri Mantra . I searched London through. Even the quaint little music shop on Tin Can Alley(run by Ben Harrick) did not have it. The HMV store pulled it out of their store-room. I was allowed to go down to that huge basement (larger than most tube stations...well almost) while the staff located the box and pulled out the lone vinyl record.
The best part is that the shop had small rooms known as 'music rooms' The idea was to allow customers to listen to records/tapes before making the purchase. These warm and well-lit rooms harboured an entire generation of students in the '70's. It did not matter where (Uni) you studied, what horrible discipline you were trying to follow. Did not matter which country or county you came from. All that mattered was the shop was there for us when we homeless students arrived with our books and files. We took in the piped music that was always there and beat a hasty retreat to one the music rooms (Room No. 5 was my favourite) to work. Room No. 5 had a Steinway grand. The walnut finished piano stood on the dark green carpet like a tree. There were Garrard or Phillips-432 record changers in all rooms. Some of the rooms had Technique or Nakamichi speakers. A total heaven where music was concerned. One could bring in audio tapes from the shop-floor to listen. We sneaked in our own tapes and played everything from Beatles to Iranian desert music (courtesy Aamir). Olof played some Norwegian lullaby music. It reminded him of his home which he missed. We all missed our homes. The shop was open till 8 in those day. Till midnight before Christmas and we sat in relative comfort and did PPE and Physics. Geography and Architecture and what-have-you. All because of the benevolence of the HMV and its various staff who turned a blind eye to this 'abuse' or 'misuse' of their swank music rooms.
It was always a pleasure to emerge from the tube at Oxford Circus to see the bright lights of the shop. As we walked up, the piped music was welcoming.... would it be Yellow Submarine? Vera Lynn? Tchaikovsky? Chubby Checker? Zubin Mehta on special days. George Harrison and Shankar on some days. African music when Amin was playing up, and Tagore on 15th August. Such eclectic music, All of us held our breaths till we got to the stage (or spot on the pavement) where the music could be heard..... generally in front of Robbins and Son.
We most often left our books and notebooks, Rotrings and our 80g Schhkoler paper sheets in the trust of HMV. Nothing ever got misplaced. When the shop shut at 8, we moved on to Hyde Park for a loaf. In those days it used to be open till midnight. No mugging. No rape. No grooming boys.
With the HMV would go out of the window the bright days which produced the high firsts that we all got! If it had not been for HMV, all of would have perished (of cold and emotional deprivation) in that 'haloed island' which is almost uninhabitable from November to February. Yet, first week of January was the submission week. HMV took care of us.
Atri told me that the shop was shutting down. I send my emissary, Rudra to scout around for the last scrap of music. The last taste of the Oxford Street HMV. The trusted agent got a few CDs and posters and such. One bright red Beatles umbrella was also acquired. I shall forever cherish this umbrella.Two carry bags, too!!
Next thought.... Foyles ? Hamleys? Please Lord, let these survive.
The sad part of it all is that the store was a huge part of our wild and willful growing up years. Not just me, but a bunch of us who lacked heating in our rooms. We had no access to a guitar or a piano. Had to work 18 hours a day to meet submission deadlines and exam dates. And of course the audio tape recorders that we had, ate into the electricity bill. Costs money to have a warm and well lit room plus some music. The HMV store at Oxford Circus was the best music store that I have visited. All kinds of music, all genres. From Western Classical to Ravi Shanker. They had the latest Who to the oldest Chant music. Once Dad once asked me to pick up a very anglicised version of the Gayatri Mantra . I searched London through. Even the quaint little music shop on Tin Can Alley(run by Ben Harrick) did not have it. The HMV store pulled it out of their store-room. I was allowed to go down to that huge basement (larger than most tube stations...well almost) while the staff located the box and pulled out the lone vinyl record.
The best part is that the shop had small rooms known as 'music rooms' The idea was to allow customers to listen to records/tapes before making the purchase. These warm and well-lit rooms harboured an entire generation of students in the '70's. It did not matter where (Uni) you studied, what horrible discipline you were trying to follow. Did not matter which country or county you came from. All that mattered was the shop was there for us when we homeless students arrived with our books and files. We took in the piped music that was always there and beat a hasty retreat to one the music rooms (Room No. 5 was my favourite) to work. Room No. 5 had a Steinway grand. The walnut finished piano stood on the dark green carpet like a tree. There were Garrard or Phillips-432 record changers in all rooms. Some of the rooms had Technique or Nakamichi speakers. A total heaven where music was concerned. One could bring in audio tapes from the shop-floor to listen. We sneaked in our own tapes and played everything from Beatles to Iranian desert music (courtesy Aamir). Olof played some Norwegian lullaby music. It reminded him of his home which he missed. We all missed our homes. The shop was open till 8 in those day. Till midnight before Christmas and we sat in relative comfort and did PPE and Physics. Geography and Architecture and what-have-you. All because of the benevolence of the HMV and its various staff who turned a blind eye to this 'abuse' or 'misuse' of their swank music rooms.
It was always a pleasure to emerge from the tube at Oxford Circus to see the bright lights of the shop. As we walked up, the piped music was welcoming.... would it be Yellow Submarine? Vera Lynn? Tchaikovsky? Chubby Checker? Zubin Mehta on special days. George Harrison and Shankar on some days. African music when Amin was playing up, and Tagore on 15th August. Such eclectic music, All of us held our breaths till we got to the stage (or spot on the pavement) where the music could be heard..... generally in front of Robbins and Son.
We most often left our books and notebooks, Rotrings and our 80g Schhkoler paper sheets in the trust of HMV. Nothing ever got misplaced. When the shop shut at 8, we moved on to Hyde Park for a loaf. In those days it used to be open till midnight. No mugging. No rape. No grooming boys.
With the HMV would go out of the window the bright days which produced the high firsts that we all got! If it had not been for HMV, all of would have perished (of cold and emotional deprivation) in that 'haloed island' which is almost uninhabitable from November to February. Yet, first week of January was the submission week. HMV took care of us.
Atri told me that the shop was shutting down. I send my emissary, Rudra to scout around for the last scrap of music. The last taste of the Oxford Street HMV. The trusted agent got a few CDs and posters and such. One bright red Beatles umbrella was also acquired. I shall forever cherish this umbrella.Two carry bags, too!!
Next thought.... Foyles ? Hamleys? Please Lord, let these survive.
