By TOBIAS WISNER // Given the recent news cycle, it’s hard not to feel like everything cool and decent in this country is either dying or already dead. With the announcement that iconic record store, 2nd Avenue Records, is being forced out of its building with no explanation - have those with power and money tried so hard to revitalize Downtown Portland that they’ve forgotten what makes people want to visit in the first place?
Ladies, gentlemen, and friends who would prefer to be called neither - I don’t want to sound hyperbolic or sensationalist, but I’m starting to believe that “The Dark Times” are officially upon us.
Not only has Daylight Savings time ended, making it literally “dark” as hell outside at too early of an hour to feel like one can get anything done, but also, according to the news, cultural happenings, and our collective “For You” pages on various social media platforms, it seems that evil, darkness, and money are winning at a rate seemingly unprecedented in the modern era.
A huge swath of America has spoken, and we’ve recently elected a convicted felon, sexual predator, and fascist to be the most powerful person in the world. That convicted felon, sexual predator, and fascist is now in the process of installing a cabinet of loyalists and yes-men that will bend or straight up rewrite the rules so they can do whatever petulant thing they want. To name a few:
For the love of all that is holy and good - two different, yet equally punchable-faced billionaires have been tapped to run a new ‘Department of Government Efficiency’ - an organization so dedicated to ‘efficiency’ that it needs two bosses who also have other jobs to run it. What’s going on right now is seemingly beyond parody, satire, or any comparison to a certain book titled after some vague year in the late 1900’s. I shouldn’t get too far into it though, some people think said book, that shall remain a mystery, is too political.
However, this proverbial darkness doesn’t seem just political either. 60 million households just watched a 27-year-old internet douchebag beat up an aging boxer on Netflix, though some, who may in hindsight have cleaner souls for it, couldn’t see any of the fight due to a buffering issue. The two richest teams in baseball just played in the World Series, potentially crowning a new richest, most-winningest team to come. And, to really twist the knife, the stock market has been hitting all-time-highs while all this is going on.
Whether it’s the early, physical darkness outside, or the metaphysical darkness going on inside our government and society that seems to portend ominousness to come in our daily lives - I’d say there are more than a few people who, like me, feel like something is off, and our normal coping mechanisms of art, music, and conviviality seem like they aren’t cutting through the pain and disillusionment in the same way they once were.
Bad things often come in waves, and it’s never just one thing that ails someone when they’re down in the dumps. In my case, besides, well, everything else, it was finding out that a famed record store in Downtown Portland - 2nd Avenue Records - is being forced to vacate the building it’s occupied successfully for 42 years with no explanation why.
As a former record store employee in my hometown, a collector of vinyl, and an appreciator of music, in-your-face merch, and physical media - this was a gut punch to hear - a seemingly unrelated cherry-on-top of a cavalcade of terribleness that’s been fed to me against my will via algorithms in my phone and relentless notifications from Politico.
I believe in the value of record stores. These musical third-places have always oozed coolness and authenticity to me. Working at one taught me more about music in a few short months than I could have ever hoped to know organically, and to this day I often tell contemporaries that it was the chillest yet most relevant job I’ve ever had. Entire musical segments of my life - the first time I spun Can's Ege Bamyasi all the way through, falling in love with metal, working with people who were as obsessed with King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard as I was - it was truly transformative.
That’s why, with a twinge of wanting to go take on ‘The Man,’ being fed-up, and ultimately incredulousness behind my step, I decided to stop by the shop for a few brief conversations with the store’s management, employees, and patrons on what could possibly be going on, what’s next for the space, and what it’s closure could mean for Downtown Portland and the greater music scene.
If you’re walking into 2nd Avenue Records for the first time, you’ll notice an immediate cool factor, an inherent Portland-ness to the space.
Far from the neoliberal, hospital-esque fever dream of an Apple Store or even some modern record stores, the space is packed to the gills with LP's, memorabilia, posters, and more. T-shirts with various bands and logos hang from the ceiling as if left there by a benevolent Punk Rock spider that has spun its web, and vinyl from various artists you’ve never heard of is spinning constantly, selected for max vibe output by dedicated employees that have worked there over 20 years in some cases.
Dividers between records are written in all-capitals with Sharpie, and it seems like they have every sort of Rock, Punk, Pop, and even Electronic title or artist under the sun. Colors abound. Persian-style rugs of many sizes adorn the floor. For music lovers and aficionados who frequent record stores across the globe - 2nd Avenue manages to come across as unique, DIY, and committed to finding and selling you cool shit if you’re in the market for it.
It was bustling there too. The people in the store seemed to come from all walks of life and taste spectrums, from crust punks looking for a rare Fugazi 7-inch, to cis white girls wearing the same outfit trying to get their hands on the new Taylor Swift or Charli XCX record. It doesn’t matter. As with many spaces in Portland driven by a love of art and free expression - all are welcome here.
That’s exactly how I felt when I first walked in, and I was immediately greeted by Cathy Hagen, manager of the shop and partner of the store owner, who offered to take me outside to talk due to the volume of the unknown Rockabilly deep cut they were currently spinning on the house turntable.
We got to talking once we were just outside the shop’s doors, and it was apparent Cathy was reeling from having a lot on her plate. I was sure I was just the latest in an onslaught of media persons trying to get the scoop on what’s going on, but she handled me with grace, indicating to me like she has with other publications that the news of having to vacate came as a complete shock and surprise.
She explains: “We were all set to renew the lease, like we had year after year before that, and we were surprised when that wasn’t presented to us as an option. We’re not trying to make accusations or burn a bridge - they’ve been kind to us for all this time, really. It just is still shocking and we’re kind of in the dark.”
According to The Oregonian, the owners of the building that houses 2nd Avenue Records, the Downtown Development Group, have not returned independent calls or emails asking for an explanation either. Cathy continues: “They own pretty much this block of buildings, and I know the rest of the tenants are also scrambling trying to figure out where to go.”
My next question was based on another tidbit I’d read - that 2nd Avenue’s landlords were trying to help them find a new space. I asked if they’d had any luck so far, and whether or not they were considering a move to the East side.
“Sure, we’ve been searching but some places are more realistic than others. They didn’t give us an exact timeline of when we needed to vacate, but I imagine the deadline will be sometime in December. The West side and Downtown feel like our home, we’ve always been here. Despite the turbulence, it's hard to imagine us moving too far East. We’ve been given some promising options, but a lot is still up in the air,” said Cathy with a sigh.
I could tell at this point that she needed to get back to overseeing the hubbub going on in the shop, and didn’t want to make her repeat herself to me. Her last point is one of value though, because it emphasizes why I got into the music space or even wanted to work at a record shop in the first place - and why spaces like 2nd Avenue Records mean a lot to a Downtown that’s already on life support.
She explains: “This has always been about coming together with a shared passion. Inviting other people who love music inside and showing them what we have has always been the point of 2nd Ave. I’m not sure if there are many other spaces over here that keep that in mind anymore, but that’s always what we’ve been about.”
It’s here where my focus turned back on the inside of the store, and I was eager to get takes from a few customers and a couple other employees. Cathy was grateful and kind, and upon re-entering the shop got right back to work behind the register.
The rub of what I think is going on here was stated perfectly by longtime employee Todd Ahseln, who kindly took a brief break from bagging records to let me stick my phone’s microphone in his face.
He explains: “The way I see it, and I don’t know what’s going on in developers’ heads so this is just me, but all the stuff that makes the news - the homelessness, the drugs, the mental illness going on - is only part of the problem when we talk about what’s ‘wrong’ with Downtown. In my mind, it shouldn’t just be clean and safe, which is what they’re focused on, but there should also be a reason people want to come down here and participate, to come to record stores like ours.”
I couldn’t have said that better myself, and I’m glad I didn’t have to. To me, why the potential closure of 2nd Avenue is particularly concerning, is because developers and those with real estate capital in Downtown are seeing the tree but not the forest. Homelessness, drug abuse, and mental illness are only part of the problem when we lament the state of Downtown, and why it continues to be the butt of jokes and considered off-limits by Portlanders still to this day.
You might remember a term I used earlier, a third-place, to describe record stores generally. I’ll let you Google what that term means sociologically, but in truth the concept could prove vital to another side of the coin when we talk about what ails Downtown Portland.
Take the few patrons I talked to while I was perusing the shelves of records. One customer named Eric who had only lived Portland a few years, hailing from Florida originally, described 2nd Avenue as one of the first record shops he felt like he could just show up at and talk music with like-minded people.
He explains: “Yeah, even though I haven’t lived here that long, and I don’t want to talk shit, but you can look around and tell how sweet this place is. This was one of the first record stores I felt comfortable showing up to regularly. Everyone’s down to talk to you, the staff is knowledgeable, it’s just a valuable space and it’s sad to hear that some shady stuff might be going down with the lease.”
To me, while pursuing the end of unsheltered homelessness and cleaning up the streets can and should be a goal when it comes to revitalizing Portland’s Downtown, there should also be an awareness as to what makes people want to experience it in the first place.
The Portland-ness of the businesses Downtown should also be paramount. Maintaining Portland’s street cred and tastemaking potential on what’s cool should be a factor. Giving people an experience that no other city can give should be a factor. That’s why 2nd Avenue’s potential closure is a gut-punch and strikes fear and disillusionment into the hearts of music fans in this city, because music is one of the best things we have to offer. Even if we had clean streets and a lack of homelessness, without places that are uniquely cool and “Portland,” what do we have left?
Another customer I talked to by the name of Emma takes this point and runs with it.
She explains: “One of the reasons I love music, and the music scene specifically in Portland, is that it’s diverse and rooted in community. This record store has so many different types of sounds to choose from, and just looking around us, stuff for all different types of people.”
She continues: “The thing that gets me, and I think a lot of Portlanders as well, is that when you look around Downtown now you see, like, the Louis Vuitton store, or the Apple Store that takes up a whole block, or the brand new Ritz-Carlton hotel, and it feels like developers and government are almost prioritizing those kinds of places over ones like 2nd Avenue. This place, to me, is Portland more than those others, and I think that’s a huge reason why we’re all kind of bummed about the state of Downtown, not just the houseless crisis and the drug crisis.”
I wholeheartedly agree with Emma’s sentiment here, and I think it is indeed the reason why it feels so perverse, so wrong, and so unfair to potentially lose a space like 2nd Avenue Records. There’s a character about the place, much like the rest of Portland, that’s infectious, welcoming, and cool because it’s inclusive and unpretentious - albeit a little messy. If we’re not prioritizing spaces like these staying in business, just what are we prioritizing?
The fate of 2nd Avenue, at this time, is uncertain. Much like the greater direction of the country, a lot of people are apprehensive and worried that their city, their society, is morphing like John Carpenter’s The Thing into something scary that they don’t value or recognize. That’s a bigger problem, in my mind, than whether or not a homeless person accosts me for a cigarette while I’m walking along the brick-built streets of Downtown.
So, how can we take action? How can we battle back against these forces of evil, darkness, and money that seem to be notching wins at our expense? Well, I’m just a writer with a silly little college degree, so I don’t have all the answers.
But one thing I can prescribe is to participate in what you’re passionate about. Think local rather than national. Find community in the here and now doing the things you love. Go to local shows at local venues. Support local artists. In the case of 2nd Avenue Records, go there and buy something. Show support, and that will mean more in the present moment than sulking about it ever could.
That’s the spirit of why 2nd Avenue Records is important, and taking that kind of action will help preserve that spirit even if the shop has to move, or worse.
One thing’s for sure though, is that you aren’t alone in feeling like something’s amiss. I know it, you know it, the government knows it, and therein lies our power to do something about it.
I wish nothing but the best for 2nd Avenue. Keep fighting the good fight, and it’s my hope that by this time next year, I’ll be able to go check the space out at a new location, or at least be proud the city is functioning in a way that would honor its memory.
That, however, is for us as a community of music lovers, and even socially conscious citizens, to decide.