The Sound of Music

Nestled neatly amongst the largest names in designer brands and sports cars, just two weeks ago I found a flagship Virgin Megastore half way down the Champs Elysees Boulevard. Like a glittering beacon of music industry past, the humongous store sat adhorned by thousands of bustling Parisians all dodging in and around the doors. I take a few intrepid steps towards this seeming mirage: I can’t quite believe that there’s still an operational Virgin Megastore around. With a certain sense of nostalgia, I remember how this would normally be one of my first and last stops on a trip into Manchester. Certainly, it’s a mecca of my childhood: the endless stacks of CDs and the perilous piles of DVD boxsets. It seems somewhat surreal, which is all the more confounding, because I know I can browse the selection at any HMV when I return home.

Nipper has become a symbol of HMV record stores worldwide.
Image Credit:  Lienhard Schulz, Wikimedia Commons.

But this treasured retail paradise is now threatened too. With the announcement of HMV’s administration, there is a huge question mark sat poised above the music industry in the UK at least. HMV is not just a store for music, film and game: it is a British icon and institution. The comic logo of a dog playing with a phonograph is an endearing image renowned worldwide, and branded the company something more than a faceless corporation, but a music shop that was ready to be alert, be active, be intuitive with the music scene.

From irrevocably changing the face of British and world music in helping to launch The Beatles, to today offering free intimate gigs with huge artists up and down the country, HMV has always been at the forefront of the high street music consumption. And some may argue that it isn’t a surprise that this store, which maintained high prices in the face of strong supermarket competition and emerging internet markets, has gone bust. In fact, some may think that it should have happened sooner.

HMV once had rivals in the form of Virgin, Zavvi
and Woolworths. Now, all of these illustrious music
stores look set to disappear from the high street.
Image Credit: Captain Scarlet, Wikimedia Commons.

Yet, consider that HMV still retain close to a 40% share in the sale of physical CDs on the high street. Without the fierce competition of high street giants, such as Zavvi, Virgin Megastore and Woolworths, HMV remained an oasis, a safe haven of the CD back catalogue. Whilst prices of chart and new releases are frequently a couple of pounds dearer than supermarket counterparts, there is no denying both the reasonable pricing and the huge selection available from yesteryear. Without sounding too much like an independent record-store hippie, HMV had become synonymous with the idea of rediscovering music, just as much as it presented the opportunity to hear new music. The catalogue is not only impressive for a physical store, but in cities, such as Manchester, the HMV is a virtual Aladdin’s Cave, hoarding gems to suit all tastes.

Perhaps without the competition of Zavvi and Virgin Megastore, HMV became too complacent, and believed too much in their monopoly on the market. But considering that Woolworths, until now possibly the largest brand to collapse under the crisis, was a leading retailer in DVDs until it folded, it is hard to believe that HMV would not extrapolate some lessons. More than any previous administration, this is probably the most significant of changing markets, and the most evocative of a ruthless industry.

And this ruthless legacy sparks potential for an even more sinister future. As the internet giants that are Amazon and Apple come to dominate the entire market, inundating consumers with rock-bottom prices at marginal profit, the high street fails. With the escalating problems at HMV, the nation’s last specialist record chain may soon face rolling the shutters one last time.

The ups and downs of HMV.
Image Credit: Kantar Worldpanel.

As fewer physical stores are open, the decline of job opportunities and the rise of further unemployment is only further aggravated by the fact that without any competition, the internet stores will soon be able to demand the same premiums that these stores once charged. Only excepting the fact that less VAT will be paid back to the UK, leaving an even greater whole in the financial heart of the country which only ten years ago welcomed the advent of internet shopping as a second coming for economic gains.

More than this, nothing quite beats the record shop. This is why independent stores have gradually made a comeback recently, competing more and more strongly each quarter. While the fall of HMV may spell a boost in custom for these shops, it will certainly see a real shift in the pace of digital takeover. Not even a decade ago, physical sales were more than double what they are now, whilst digital was still struggling to break the mainstream market and was only warily accepted by a few. Should a buyer not be found the endangered chain, not only is the future of the high street uncertain amidst the collapse of GAME and Jessops, but the very presence of the physical CD is undermined.

His Master's Voice: HMV's flagship store on Oxford St.
Image Credit: Getty Images

Without a major store in which to browse an extensive collection of artists and albums, the supermarkets’ charts will become the only token existence of the CD. Even here, there tends only to be CDs available from within the Top 50: if you want to find releases from before the past six or so months, there will be little choice but to turn to download. Personally, this strikes me as a killer blow to music. Just as some may say that nothing sounds like a vinyl, the CD, more than the cassette before it, is proof of the adaptability of music. Sharing and mixing, ready to be played in the car or the house, offering a backup against computer malfunction or meltdown, the CD is versatile. I find myself swizzing an album on Spotify before buying: if it’s something I know I’ll want to come back to decades from now, I buy the CD.

My favourite albums are all owned in the physical. There’s something about being able to hold a CD, point at an iconic cover, finger the inlays of someone’s work, slip in the disc to something that transports you to a time, place, mood, invoking memory and nostalgia. With the close of HMV, this very aspect of music love is also threatened, and it was the very thing that made the store unique. HMV might not be the first place to look for a bargain, but it is the first stop for a boxset bonanza, a CD binge or a gaming back catalogue. Without it, the versatile disc may not be considered versatile much longer.