Punks on Wax

Steve Stevenson has found a niche in the vinyl grooves of punk and
indie records. If the location of his first North Oakland record store
was relative in size to a seven-inch EP, then his new spot, two doors
down, could be likened to a full-length LP with awesome cover art.

Stevenson opened 1-2-3-4 Go! Records early last year, and in March
he relocated it to a space about three times bigger in the same
building on 40th Street. The move means more counter space to display
records and other music-related merchandise, more wall space to display
the work of local artists, and more floor space to hold occasional
in-store performances.

The expansion, albeit modest, is an auspicious move in a down
economy — and a suggestion that vinyl-slinging can still be a
profitable venture. Or, at the very least, not a guaranteed bust.

Unlike larger record stores, 1-2-3-4 Go! has a specialized selection
of punk (and all its subgenres), indie rock, and some classic rock and
country records. And while catering to a distinct market effectively
weeds out a wider customer base, the sizeable population of punk-record
collectors — in the East Bay and beyond — may be enough to
sustain the shop.

“It’s much safer to be in a niche market,” explained Stevenson. “I
think being small is very wise, because when a store is too big, you
open yourself up to a lot more competition.”

Stevenson said even he was amazed when, after starting the business
in March 2008, it immediately took off. “The first couple of months
were amazing,” he said. “I didn’t really do any advertising, it was all
word-of-mouth, and people were coming out of the woodwork for it.”

A year later, the store is still succeeding, he says. It’s nearby to
the MacArthur BART station and major bus lines, making it easily
accessible. And Stevenson said that whenever he turns around, more
record enthusiasts seem to move into the neighborhood.

Some of 1-2-3-4’s Go!’s success can be credited to the pre-existence
of his record label of the same name, through which Stevenson has
released a plethora of punk and pop-punk records and CDs since 2001. He
now sells his releases in his shop and online — so that even when
his physical storefront is closed, he’s still open for business.

The success of the shop is somewhat relative considering how small
the old store was. The sales floor could only accommodate a portion of
the records, CDs, and tapes in stock at any given time — between
800 and 1,000 LPs, and around 200 seven-inches could be displayed at
once, while boxes of records were relegated to bottom shelves, out of
customers’ view.

“There were all these sections that I had to move down to this
second shelf, and you had to look at them sideways,” Stevenson said.
“Any time something got moved down to that shelf, it completely killed
sales — I mean it was just gone.”

Then there was the somewhat awkward, forced intimacy caused by the
store’s cramped quarters. The space fit two or three customers at a
time, semi-comfortably, and anyone entering the store was instantly
face-to-face with Stevenson. Even with his easygoing disposition, the
anticipated awkwardness of the space may have deterred some would-be
customers.

“I know for a fact that the store kind of intimidated [some
people],” Stevenson said. “You don’t want to walk into a store where
you’re just suddenly hanging out with someone.” He added that the new
space is more like a real store. “You can wander around, there’s a guy
at the desk. It’s more comfortable, so I feel like a lot more people
are coming in.”

With the added space, Stevenson plans to eventually sell new and
used record players, as well as replacement needles, which are hard to
find in the East Bay. The Sound Well in Berkeley sells needles, but is
only open limited hours.

On March 6, Stevenson threw an opening night art show. The space was
packed shoulder-to-shoulder, with a small crowd littering the sidewalk
out front. The show featured the work of Oakland artist Shannon Shaw,
whose watercolor, graphite, and gold-leaf works hung inside gaudy gold
frames on the store’s wood-paneled walls.

Shaw lives two blocks from the store and said the new space is much
more open and accessible. “The old store was charming,” she said, “but
this has a brand new kind of romance coming in.”

Stevenson said the owner-customer interactions fostered by small
stores keeps people coming back — sometimes even when they find a
cheaper option at a larger store. “When you start a store, you have to
be there, hands-on,” said Stevenson, the only employee.

“I feel like so much of the charm of places like these is the clear
influence of the owner — it has got their touch all over it. It’s
not a turnkey business or whatever, where you just open the door and
the money gets made and you don’t have to think about it.”

He added: “After a while, I’d definitely like to start taking the
weekends off again.”