Over the past few years, I’ve come to expect a little bit more from my record stores.
I guess you could say I’ve become a sound snob in my old age, wanting an exhaustive emporium of newly manufactured and wholly overpriced vinyl in the music shops of my choice and, really, only that. That’s not to say that the legendary Starship Music, 1241 S. Lewis Ave. in Tulsa, is a terrible place—not in the slightest!—but it’s just not the store for a thirty-three and a third jerk like me.