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Great Val Shively article in the "Smithsonian" magazine.


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Had a day at Val's about 15 years ago. Had to carry some racking up to the top floor and that allowed me behind the counter to search. There were 4 or 5 floors completely stacked floor to ceiling of records and main floors had been arranged in label order. Lots of box quantities on lower end stuff. Bought 60ish records from him, he threw them into piles of $5 - $10 & $20 then added them up. No price guide or computer in sight. He also had loads of artist promotional photos but not for sale. Met a record dealer on 2nd floor whom lived within 10 miles of me in Nottingham. (couldn't make it up)

If you get the chance to go - Grab it.

   

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Thanks for posting the article.

               The 1st time I went to Val's shop I felt like I was on a job interview- he asked me at least 20 questions before I could even look around the store. He let me look in the front of the store and as we talked he let me go to a room behind the counter and look at the perfectly filed 45's.

        He may be a little tough to deal with at first but once he gets to know you, he's a different person. He told me stories of people who came in waving cash and buying a few 45's and then later finding 1000's of dollars of rare Doo Wop 45's were missing from his store. So I can understand his attitude to new customers. But all in all, a great place to shop! 

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That’s a fascinating article.   I spent 2 years as a student in Philly and was introduced to Val by Tim A, who was over visiting from Stoke.  I used to spend a full day in there every couple of months or so.  It was a right pain to get to from where I lived…..a train and then something called a trolley, which was a tram-type thing.  There was never any guarantee that Val would let me in, when I got there.  Usually, a volley of verbal abuse, before I talked him round, but once past the door, he’d give me full access to the shelves.  Everything filed by label and alphabetically by artist.   I had to promise to remove a handful of records at a time, and then replace them in exactly the same sequence.  I can hear Val now, saying “misfile it and you may as well steal it”.  He would remain Ill-tempered throughout  the day, occasionally levelling a “f’ing limey b*****d” comment at me.  Anyone phoning the shop to enquire about a record would get the same treatment.  If he had the record, he’d sometimes refuse to sell it, if the caller had irked him in any way.  
After a day listening to an incessant wave of expletives, we’d settle up.  $3 per record, but occasionally, he’d pull one out of the pile, randomly, and say $5 for that one.  It was always a good laugh to say, I’ll leave that one then.  His assistant, used to grimace as Val told me in a forthright way, I wouldn’t be welcomed back.  Then there was the arduous journey home in the dark, praying I’d make it without getting shot or stabbed before I’d had a chance to play the records.  
As a student, I had to be selective about what I bought.  For example, if I found multiple copies, I’d normally only take one. I’m still convinced the blue Superlatives is rarer than the yellow, as I took the only blue from Val’s, leaving a dozen yellows behind.  Like most collectors these days, all I can think of is the stuff I left in there.

I saw a you-tube video of the shop a few years ago, which revealed a number of other rooms, stuffed with records.  I never even knew about those, and always wonder if I could have sweet talked him into letting me loose in there.  
Over time, I think Val started to trust me on the mis-filing front, and although he never stopped cursing me out, I think he became a bit more tolerant.  Anyway, I always thought he was a fascinating character.  I often forget where some of my records came from, but I know every single one that came from R&B Records,  Upper Darby.  
 

Yeah, you’re absolutely right.  It was always good natured with him.  He was all about the music, and he left a lasting impression on me.

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