The Record Shop is perfectly Red Hook, by Gene Bray

You see a permanent bench in front of a bizarre looking sculpture of guitars. A Sculpture-like apparition that might be unwelcome in some neighborhoods. It’s clear that anybody is welcome to sit at this crazy lookin spot. Anytime.
At dawn there is usually all kinds of free stuff on it. By noon chairs appear. This is a place to relax a while with others.
The one-story building has a simple old fashioned look that is comforting. “The Record Shop” sign is handmade. More handmade signs about upcoming events appear; and then disappear in the huge windows.
Looking inside you see a clean hardwood floor. On the walls, more handmade signs. And handmade pictures. And a hundred and one knickknacks; all placed with care out of the way. But still within easy reach. A funky lookin miniature piano. A guitar or two. Hand percussion stuff.
And sporting equipment. It’s not for sale, just to play with. There’s a basketball to take out to the sidewalk and practice. And when it’s warm, everybody loves to practice their passing and dribbling. There’s a nerf baseball. A golf club and balls.
This place took time to furnish. By a spiritual person. Actually, spiritual people.
Temporary shops spring up out front when it’s warm. And there’s a bookcase for the readers. Two or three dollar books. But like Barnes and Noble; its ok to sit out front and read em. Cover to cover. You can also get a haircut in the back room.
The whole place is a magnet for people.
And of course, the records. Hundreds of albums are displayed in huge wooden racks. And 45s. A record is always playin on 1 of the two turntables in the window. Never loud though. Background music. You can hear it on the sidewalk out front too; also at the same low volume.. Don’t worry, it’s loud enough.
These turntable sounds are free to anyone passing by. And it hits em right between the eyes. Impromptu dancing is always breaking out. Inside and on the sidewalk. One day I saw an older lady dancing in front of the shop. Gracefully, effortlessly, sensuously moving to a Salsa beat. Exactly like she did 50 years ago on some warm island. Then it hit me. That’s Carmen, the school crossing guard!!! I Never knew she was the greatest dancer ever! Everyone who saw her lit up with joy. I pulled out my harmonica and tried to keep time with her. A turntable, combined with live harmonica, she was now in heaven. And when she pulled out her harmonica; magic happened. Two old timers were born again.
Or ya might see Bobby. Another somewhat old timer still writing songs, and singing them while playing his guitar. He takes over the shop some nights. Putting on Bob Dylan’s “Blood on the Tracks” he comes dancing out the door.
“Damn Bobby, you can dance” I shout. And I start dancin too. People passing by are drawn by these sights and sounds.. Then, 65 year old Scott; the landlord comes out of his door; gets blasted by all this, and is swept off his feet. Moving like a teenage ballerina. Light as a feather. All 6 ft 220 lbs. of him. Well what do you expect? It was side one; track 1. “Tangled Up in Blue.”
Bene, whose store it is, lets a lot of people work the turntable. Young people, old timers. Any ethnicity.
It is all soul music. And I don’t mean “Black Music.” Its Spirit Music. Of course, there is a whole lotta Motown. And a lotta reggae. Bossa Nova, Rap Jazz. Disco. Yea; a whole helluva lotta Black Artists, thank God. What did you expect from Bene? He knows music.His father was a musician. And Bene used to sell records at the 7th/ave. 9th street Record Shop many,many,many years ago.
And Bene, believe it or not, he can dance too. And he just became a father for the first time. I saw his wife and month old daughter at the shop the other day. She was standing and gently rocking her sleeping daughter. A young man at the turntable put on “The Who” and the song was “Won’t get Fooled Again.’’ It was on a very low volume because the baby was sleeping. But the organ opening the song also opened her eyes. She was instantly wide awake!. Alert. Coherent. Then Pete Townsends guitar and Keith Moon’s drums hit and the melody was born. She seemed to know something sacred was happening. Then Roger Daltry sang; and a baby girl fell in love with Rock and Roll. Or maybe she was just goin to the bathroom. One thing I’m sure of; though; that’s a lucky kid.
The Record Shop used to have free concerts. Free potluck dinners. Spontaneous sidewalk barbeques with free hot dogs and hamburgers. Everybody welcome. First come first served. And my favorite: “The Record Shop Open Mike.” Held daily between opening and closing. If ya wanna sing or rap. Or try some stand up, or just vent about the Government. Or your family. Yeah the mike is always ready.
But that all stopped when they locked us down. I hope the summer winds bring those things back.
360 Van Brunt should be designated a N.Y.C. landmark. The reason? It’s clearly a Magical location. Most of the regulars never buy anything. They don’t have a turntable either. Some don’t even have a refrigerator. But when they show up Bene greets em with a smile. And if the bench is full; a chair. They give spirit, instead of money. It’s nice to see so many young folks there. They love that late 60s early 70s music. They dig the old kooky hippy types too. The coolest people in Red Hook hang out at the Record Shop.
So stop in, and look through the records. Being in the shop awhile is a spirit reboot. Better than a psychiatric visit. Maybe take off your shoes and roll around on the floor. [ You should probably come early for that though.] And see if they can put on The Young Rascals “Good Lovin.” You’ll be in Hippie Heaven. And as it warms up, have a seat out front and watch the parade go by; while listening to that low background; sweet soul music. Maybe the right sounds will spin off that turntable and hit YOU right between the eyes and reboot your mind. Make you a magnet for” MAGIC.”
The Record Shop is on 360 Van Brunt St. in Red Hook.