Tourists, Go Home!
My exasperation with selfish vinyl tourists, how to spot them, and a step-by-step guide to put them in their place
Millions of tourists visit London every year and fall in love with its dynamism, diversity and vibrant atmosphere.
Even the weather is not as bad as some fear—it’s certainly not worse than in other northwestern European cities like Paris, Antwerp or Amsterdam.
In London, you can be yourself. Everyone is welcome.
There is, however, a rite of passage every visitor has to go through:
When using escalators on the London tube (subway for my American friends), you must stand on the right. This is non-negotiable.
Londoners are extremely impatient. Anyone who ignores this rule will be greeted with exasperation, huffs, puffs, and a certain type of “Excuse me!” insinuating you should be the one excusing yourself.
It’s not so much because we are always in a rush (which we are). It’s a matter of principle: if you block the escalator, you are not showing consideration to others.
These tourist blunders are not exclusive to metropolises, though. They also plague record stores, particularly during the summer months.
What is a vinyl tourist?
Vinyl tourists are people who spontaneously decide to visit a record store with no clear intention of doing any serious browsing or shopping.
They pop in simply because it’s cool, just like they take a stroll in the park on a sunny day.
They may or may not live in the city in question: the tourist element is not about the location, but the lack of seriousness and low frequency with which they embark on the activity.
The basic rule
There is a fundamental rule at record stores which vinyl tourists never respect: don’t hog the stacks.
Unlike the “stand on the right” edict on the London Underground, this rule is unwritten, but I’d happily plaster the walls of every single store with banners typed in Arial bold, size 72.
You would think it’s self-explanatory, right? The store is a shared space. Some basic etiquette wouldn’t go amiss.
If you are a serious collector, you know the drill: choose your spot, flick as quickly as you can, and move on. Unless you’re standing next to one of your best friends, keep a safe distance to your left and right, avoid eye contact, and don’t engage in conversation.
Similar to men’s urinal etiquette (including the quick flicking). It’s not rocket science.
Yet again, common sense seems to be the least common of the senses. Let me illustrate with an example.
A happy family
There she goes, with her curly hair, denim jacket or summer dress, and her entitled way of barging in.
“Look at this! Check this out!”, she cheerfully exclaims.
Her companion (presumably her husband, but she calls him her other half) has a smug look on his face, as if he already knew everything there is to know about records. Of course he’s wearing a Henley shirt.
They carelessly touch the records. They talk. Loudly. The store is for them, you see? We’ve all been eagerly anticipating their arrival.
They stand there, at the exact same spot, for hours. Their hands resting on the crate they have invaded. Their body language speaking for itself.
Their children, invigorated by the freedom of a Saturday afternoon, run around the store like little demons, holding ice creams and getting in everyone’s way.
It’s the worst of both worlds: the parents are motionless and won’t budge; their children run around like mad squirrels with firecrackers up their arses. What a happy family!
Where do they come from, what do they want, and why? Just why.
I would bet my entire record collection that they are vegan, self-proclaimed intellectuals, take more lessons and courses than there are days in the week, their children are home-schooled, they see an allergist twice a month, and the main values in their household are recycling and respecting others.
Respecting others except at the record store, that is.
Is everyone welcome?
I know what you are thinking. I should be more tolerant.
Should I, though? Or should they show some basic respect?
England tourists can be annoying, but they contribute billions to the British economy every year.
Vinyl tourists, in contrast, not only routinely fail to make any significant purchase, but they also block others from browsing and shopping in peace.
I visit record stores all the time. Over the decades, I’ve seen people of all ages, sizes and colours.
Swifties, punk rockers, indie fans, DJ’s, prog rock lovers, hippies, rappers, rastafarians, jazz historians and more. We are all different, but we are united. There’s this unspoken, intuitive respect between us. We need each other.
I’ve yet to see one serious record collector behaving with the entitlement, privilege and selfishness of vinyl tourists.
So now you know: next time you spot some vinyl tourists, I suggest you do what I do: not-so-subtle cough, excuse yourself like they should be excusing themselves, and make them share the space.
For all the weekly courses they proudly take, this is a basic lesson they clearly missed.
Thanks for reading/listening. Happy spinning!
At 2.5 million, metropolitan Portland, Oregon is obviously nowhere near as big as London, nor is it a world city. But it is still one of the major West Coast cities between Vancouver, Canada, and San Diego, and many tourists pushing down to California or up to Seattle/Vancouver stop in Portland. We also have Mississippi Records, which brings in many record tourists from around the world (and touring bands).
The only gripe I have in a used record store, however, is when somebody (always a man) takes a huge stack of LPs to the one listening station and takes zero consideration in others who also may want to give an LP a quick spin before purchase. It's all about them and their massive pile and they won't budge. These aren't tourists, though; these are always regular crate diggers, and, to be honest, more often than not of a certain younger generation.
Just my vegan two cents.
"If you are a serious collector, you know the drill: choose your spot, flick as quickly as you can, and move on. Unless you’re standing next to one of your best friends, keep a safe distance to your left and right, avoid eye contact, and don’t engage in conversation."
Okay, this one has me completely baffled, because this is exactly the opposite of my experience in record stores and why I love them. I'm not a serious collector, this is true, so maybe I'm the annoying person that you're writing about, because record stores are exactly where I love striking up conversations, because it's one of the only public spaces where I can reliably encounter people who love music and have interesting things to say about it. A record store is *exactly* where I want to start up conversations, pull out records and talk about liner notes, etc. I've had some of my best conversations about music with the person across from me browsing in a vinyl store!
I don't hog the stacks though. 😎