I know it’s unthinkable, but last Saturday when I was at the Cherry Hill Mall getting my dear Macbook repaired for the umpteenth time, I found myself alone with my son, needing to occupy some time while Helen replenished her summer wardrobe. There aren’t many interesting options when you’re at the mall, so I took a walk down memory lane and stepped inside the sort of store that introduced me to music in the first place: an FYE.
(For the record, my first experience with a chain music store that wasn’t a big box prototype was Sam Goody. I tried to order Fugazi’s ‘In on the Kill Taker.’ What a mess that was.)
I expected to be chatted up by the adolescent clerk and I was. I told him I didn’t need any help, although I probably should’ve asked him to turn the lights on as the shop was as dark as a cave. I guess long shadows are the only way to make an FYE seem remotely “edgy.” That said, my overall shopping experience wasn’t bad! Sure, it’s not the treasure trove you remember from youth: the bands are all much more familiar; I spend way less time trying to convince myself to buy things I might not like in the name of “music discovery”; and the selection remains woefully dull.
What drew me into the store, apart from the need to keep myself and an angsty toddler busy for about 30 minutes while Mom bought some new tops? $9.99. The magical pricepoint! Everything in the store was marked at $9.99, meaning that yet another brick-and-mortar retailer is moving toward Apple’s pricing, with the distinct disadvantage of, um, overheard. Pesky, that.
$9.99 got me in the store and I was trying to remember what stuff I wanted to pick up. I grabbed copies of the new Janelle Monae and LCD Soundsystem records. (I know I said in my last post that I’m not all about Pitchfork-hyped bands, but I’m a contradiction.) Outstanding.
When I arrived at the checkout, the distracted clerk was waiting for me, but little did I know what awaited me there. The dreaded upsell! And not just one! No, when I got to the counter, baby in one arm, I was made several offers, all of which I could easily refuse.
First, I was asked if I wanted to join some sort of FYE Club or another. I politely declined. Second, I was asked if I wanted to pre-order the new Jack Johnson album, which was due to hit store shelves a mere three days later. When I said I’d pass, the clerk noted that he saw me singing along to it. True enough, but it didn’t mean I wanted to pre-order the silly thing. Sometimes you need to invent ways to keep a baby busy, right? After the hard sell, he asked me if I was interested in subscriptions to any of the several magazines included on a blotter right on the checkout counter. After the third “no” of the checkout, the transaction was complete!
Now that I’ve written this all down, I’m not sure if $9.99 is really worth the aggravation, especially when you consider that I was able to scoot into AKA Music, grab a copy of Erykah Badu’s latest LP, and get back out again in no time at all. No pre-orders or shopper’s club offers at all! Wish more people felt that way, since I passed a forlorn rack of Record Store Day exclusives (including the Arthur Russell one from ’09) as I walked in the store.