Gatekeepers of the Groove

From 1976 for seven years, the doorway of Earthquake records was the threshold of a scene. Blissed-out West Coast psych imports rubbed against the first spitty shrapnel shards of punk. Behind its counter - scrounged from a Rawlinson Street Chippy - Derek would sniff at your requests, get you to an all dayer at Knebworth to hear something better, and flog you his Vindicator fanzine to read on the coach.

Derek gave me a morning and told me the story of the shop. Born out of a need to do something - anything- for a year while waiting to do a Uni research project on footy hooliganism, Earthquake was different: it was open when everyone else was shut; it recognised that you might want to actually hear records before you paid for them, and it understood that local scenes need a place to coalesce, a home-made place, built from the ground up where a small town's 2 Captain Beefheart fans can meet, stand around, and maybe even buy something.

As well as the coach trips to gigs, Earthquake promoted local bands at the Labour Club and the Civic Hall. Derek's archive - a carrier bag in a box - is a time capsule of roneo-ed ephemera, lyric sheets, zines, gig flyers, reels of tape and film, gorgeous concert posters and "back in five minutes" signs.

Earthquake has been closed for 40 years but, says Derek, there's rarely a week when someone doesn't mention it. Its former customers talk of it with enormous affection; right place, right time. As long as you didn't try to buy a Buggles single. 

Here are a few items from the Brook Collection, including John Duffin's painting of Earthquake (below).

Piled high with records, comics, sporting and film ephemera, the shop is a hub for young explorers, nostalgics, and people like me who head into its further corners in search of flexidiscs, film soundtracks and production music and end up distracted by a pile of Stax/Volt soul or pink label Island singles or whatever has arrived since my last visit.

Brian locked up at four, pulled up a squeaky chair and told me of his fascination with vinyl, and the ability of tape to store unexpected treasure. We talked of the importance to small towns of shops like his and of the legendary Earthquake Records, where scenes cohered around imported obscurities and nods of approval or dismissal would greet new releases, and of the joys of browsing and idle grazing.

Brian's first gramophone was a portable wind-up job. He's had these brought in by customers, either to get a price, or to provide a talking point. A much-loved stack system sits in the corner of the shop, usually playing The Beatles at conversational level.

I left with a great interview and a mono toploading low number white album (those who can understand that will understand it).

Original Music: John Hall, Robbie Gallagher, Damo Rose, Montgomery Clift Honey.
Pepperland Collect on Facebook: www.facebook.com/groups/504907169539607
Damo Rose: https://www.damianrose.co.uk/