djtat:

So after a long run of 105 years a piece of local folklore and history dies, Hudsons Records based in Chesterfield says goodbye. A combination of ludicrously high rent and rates combined with the mass move of buying music and DVDs from the likes of Amazon and LoveFilm meant it was time for the famous independent music store to close.

I came across Hudsons as I did like so many others through my fledgling love of vinyl records, as a 12 year old who suddenly fell head over heels with music and in turn the format of the 7 inch record. Once I’d reached that certain age that gave me licence to go on the bus and to that far far away land, called the town centre, I never looked back. Once there I was able to find solace and friends in the two record shops, firstly Connections, a fusty dark place on two floors that mostly contained prog rock, heavy metal and reggae, and the box that concerned me and my mates most - the electro imports box, all £4.99 and all from New York - remember this was 1982, a fiver was pretty much a big deal. 

I was working as a bread lad for Mothers Pride, bunking from school for extra shifts, and those 10 hour days were usually exchanged for one return bus ticket, a US import, or maybe a few 7 inch singles.

Connections were the Krautrock younger brother to Hudsons soul, jazz and pop loving elder. Both shops were blessed with the same thing you rarely found in record shops - friendly and helpful staff - not too cool to try and help, and always able to point you towards a good tune. In time Connections would go under and others would follow focusing on dance, indie and pop but didn’t last apart from the popular Planet X records offering a selection of alternative and indie records.

All the while, Hudons continued with three shops, bizarrely two of them just yards from each other, the third selling music instruments. Eventually all three would fall back to a final defensive position opposite the market hall. Hudsons always had a loyal following, many of them being the blue rinse brigade after songs from their own youth, and eventually to replace their ageing lps with new fanged CDs. In time, CDs and DVDs arrived and along with the perennial singles charts sales, life was good. One thing that highlighted Hudsons was a good place were the staff, they all seemed to have worked their for years and had a combined wealth of knowledge from Aphex Twin to Kylie Minnogue. 

From the mid 80s to the present day, electronic music was always well catered for, and there were even a few boxes of Hi-Nrg for the active gay and lesbian scene in the town. With the birth of electro, a steady flow of obscure US imports arrived and were always snaffled by a small group of passionate B Boys, many of which still have these tunes despite not owning a turntable for years.

Dance music boomed in the late 80s and early 90s and the shop stocked literally thousands of weird and wonderful tracks, usually order by Jay or Justine. Every week I’d go in to buy my usual pile to play on the pirate radio stations I frequented and Jay would play me the latest tracks he’d ordered looking for a sale. My reply was always the same, I’ll wait till a few months and get them from the bargain bins, pretty much knowing that I’d be the only one wanting to buy obscure German minimal imports whilst most of the dance customer base were stuck to prog house and trance. They even stocked bespoke mix tapes from my good self, I sold about 1500 there and only ever met one person who’d bought one, it was open house for like minded people.

As I moved away from the town for work, the visits became less and less, but I always tried to get in when I could. Whilst this was happening big changes were afoot in that the growth of mp3s had out-stripped the sales of conventional formats. Tescos and Amazon gobbled up more and more of the market and all of us had bought into the Frankenstein monster of mass commercialism, one day we’ll see how wrong we were. Each week a record shop closed and it was only a matter of time that Hudsons would get into trouble as their sales of singles fell away, a combination of a drop in sales in general and bigger competition. Add that to the incredible costs they had each week, with rent and rates of over £70k a year, it meant they had to make a lot of profit before they could even start to think about wages.

Nevertheless, Hudsons kept a loyal fan base and a loyal staff with many working there for decades, even one ex member of staff would return to work in the shop on Saturdays in return for vinyl, despite landing a lucrative job elsewhere. Rumour has it that a few old faces will return for one last Saturday, the last Saturday.

As for Keith, the owner he’ll no doubt find something to keep him busy, as he was always busy - like any business owner, putting in some long hours. I asked him if he had a big collection of records at home, he replied just a few - mostly jazz. Nevertheless this is a sad time for him and his family, the family he spent 6 days a week with behind the counter.

What happens to the space opposite the market hall is anyone’s guess, chances are it’ll be a hairdresser or coffee shop, maybe a PoundLand - and with it a bit of Chesterfield’s soul will be gone forever, replaced by a bit of the stuff that makes every other town centre look the same. Nevertheless, the vinyl and the famous yellow carrier bag that anyone reading this owns knows that while it lasted it was a good place to spend a Saturday afternoon. We can never go back and progress has to happen, but sometimes progress loses part of the element of something in translation. Like bookshops and libraries, we lose cultural hubs, places were ideas and interests are shared, where people find like-minded people, form bands and release records.