Elle Belle, The TVD First Date

“Growing up in a small town outside of Manchester, NH (or “Manch-Vegas” as the locals called it) could get lonely sometimes. The music scene then was mostly made of nu-metal bands or cover bands and that was decidedly not the kind of music I was into making. I felt no camaraderie or connection to a scene.”

“One day I found a store tucked in a nondescript plaza near the Mall of New Hampshire. It was a record store called Music Connection. Whether intended or not the name was more than apt: I had found the connection I was looking for. It was a window, a glimpse into a life I didn’t have now but maybe could have some day.

I would visit every week, checking the new arrivals or ordering records they didn’t have from the old man at the desk, who must’ve been around 150 years old at the time if I had to guess. After a while I developed a system where I would limit myself to two purchases a week: one record that was considered a “must have” in a collection and one that I personally wanted to have : Abbey Road / Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Ramones / Bee Thousand, Sticky Fingers / #1 Record.

Sometimes, I would go just to hang out. When I was broke and knew I wasn’t going to buy anything I’d wander around, occasionally picking up a record, checking the back, scratching my chin like I was thinking about something. The experience of being in the store felt tantamount to the music I was buying. I imagined it was what the Replacements or Sonic Youth did when they were young, and I wanted to feel like they did. For a moment I wanted to feel like I was in a big city where people dug vinyl and that I was an artist making music that was important.

While the latter is still up for debate, I did fulfill the former: I live in Los Angeles now. I find the old stereotypes of Hollywood shallowness mostly a thing of the past and living on the east side echoes those glimpses I saw way back when. My parents still live in the house I grew up in and from time to time I visit.

Since leaving, the town has gone through quite a renaissance. The main drag of Elm Street is revitalized. Where a CVS was now stands a busy vegan breakfast spot. Where a Chili’s was is now a juice bar where I see people with nose rings and tattoos reading outside. Down the street, an expert chocolatier who has traveled the world learning about chocolate is the spot to go for dessert after eating at the middle-eastern kabab place across the street.

There are even a few more vinyl stores that have popped up over time. Yet, I still remember the one that stood first. My Central Perk. My Tom’s Restaurant. My Cheers. Where, instead of everyone knowing your name, they didn’t play that fucking Kryptonite song over the speakers.”
—Christopher Pappas