On a sunny Saturday afternoon, Frankie Beverly’s silky soul voice travels on East 87th Street. On a weekday afternoon, steppers’ music causes passersby to nod their heads. The music wafts through the brick storefront House of Music — tagline “the widest selection of oldies in Chicagoland” — where the window displays Stevie Wonder, MF Doom and Miles Davis album covers.
“We’re an old-school record shop. We feature things like DVD concerts. We have CDs. We, of course, have wax, which has made a great comeback,” said owner Tearched Scott as the 1990s dance track “Show Me Love” by Robin S pulsated in the background. Rows of records arranged by genre crowd aisles: jazz, gospel and R&B, the store’s mainstay. It’s a treasure trove in a digital world.
So how does an analog shop thrive when listeners stream from their devices?
“Fifty percent of the people are not going to get into technology. They’re going to hang on to what they’re used to dealing with,” Scott said. “Once they find me, they usually stay around a long time because I know the music. You can’t go to Spotify and say, ‘Hey, who did this?’ “
If customers can’t recall a song title, Scott asks follow-up questions. Was it a group? A female singer? Scott, 68, offers bespoke service and institutional knowledge. Even people from overseas reach out when searching for local artists.
But House of Music’s clientele isn’t a bunch of Luddites; young people shop there to buy vinyl. And every December, Scott said he sells quite a few turntables. They are the ones giving wax a great comeback. According to the Recording Industry Association of America, 2023 revenue from vinyl records grew 10% to $1.4 billion, marking the 17th consecutive year of growth. Dovetailing with that trend, in recent years, independent record stores Torn Light Records, Miyagi Records and Beverly Phono Mart have opened in Chicago.
Like independent bookstores, record stores offer a cultural experience that big-box stores can’t.
“Though we sell music, we talk music history too,” Scott said.
“Our old motto used to be: If we didn’t have it, you didn’t need it.”
The Scott family life revolved around music. His father was a record executive specializing in R&B.
“The funny thing about that is everybody assumed that I had a lot of the good old soul music playing from back in the day. My father actually only played classical music at home, so all I ever heard was Brahms, Bach and Mozart,” the son recalled.
The elder Scott first opened a record store in 1974 and had three locations in the 1970s under various names.
“Two weeks before my father passed, he came and asked me what would I do with the store if he passed away. I told him I’d keep it going.”
That was in 1980, and the younger Scott fulfilled the promise. He moved to the current 87th Street location in 2013.
Record companies used to sponsor meet-and-greets at record stores. A House of Music wall is like a visual archive, decorated with some of those musical stars — Notorious B.I.G., Beyoncé, The O’Jays, The Isley Brothers and Smokey Robinson. Those appearances are long gone, as the recording industry experienced seismic shifts in consumer consumption. Scott’s seen the transition from cassette tapes to CDs to streaming to back to vinyl to back to cassettes. Apparently, tapes are the new vinyl — retro for young people. The store sells $59 Sony Walkmans.
The future of House of Music is uncertain. The cultural cache of an indie record store doesn’t translate into financial windfalls. Scott’s children aren’t interested in taking over, even though he’d like to retire.
Scott stays put for now, behind his desk printing labels for house music CDs he makes for local DJs or dropping random trivia about artists like Luther Vandross.
“I’m more here for my loyal customers that have been around a long time. They would really be hurt if I left,” he said.
Then his phone rang. The ringtone? Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing.”
Natalie Y. Moore is a senior lecturer at Northwestern University.