For many music lovers, the first voluntary trip to the record store is often a treasured reminiscence. That pivotal transformation from listening to “whatever is on the radio” to pursuing that limited edition gatefold vinyl of The Pixies Surfer Rosa is a coming of age story worthy of Charles Dickens or D.H. Lawrence. To these folks, the record store is a cherished place of reverence, harboring memories and experiences that only other music lovers can understand. In that respect, news of a record store’s closing is often regarded in the same way as a death of a friend. It can be overwhelmingly devastating.
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Such is the case for Nashville-based singer-songwriter Howard Jennings whose new single “The Sound Song” laments the closing of his favorite record store. “’The Sound Song’ was the result of hearing the news that our beloved East Nashville neighborhood record store, Fond Object, was closing,” he sighs. “And not just closing, but being demolished only to be replaced by condos.”
This tragic loss of this sort of retail outlet may seem trivial to many (“c’mon, man… it’s just a record store”) but to those who have spent countless hours, flipping through the racks of vinyl and sifting through piles of CDs, trying to find something to add to their musical libraries, the mere thought of an independent record store casualty is catastrophic to the community.
For Jennings and his family, what drew him to this certain community wasn’t necessarily good schools for his daughter or the convenience of nearby grocers, but, in fact, its proximity to a certain record store. “It was one of the main reasons we wanted to live in that part of the neighborhood,” he recalls. “My wife actually found our house while I was on the road for a show, and when she told me the house was a block from the record shop, I was sold.”
“I have the best memories pushing my daughter in her stroller to hear the live music and once she could walk she would lead me there when she heard the music going,” he remembers, sifting through his many memories of the store. So the news of the store’s shuttering was crushing.
Told from the point of view of Fond Object, “The Sound Song” anthropomorphizes the store in a heart wrenching way, like a forgotten childhood pal trying to remain relevant to someone who has outgrown the friendship. “How many times have you walked by without saying ‘hi’ / Wasn’t I one of the reasons you fell in love with the east side,” he sings, channeling the store’s despair.
“The song is a love letter, written from the perspective of the old record store as it watched me drink my coffee at the pricey coffee shop that opened up on the other side of the intersection,” he says. “I was overwhelmed with a sense of guilt, feeling like I could’ve done more to save it,” he regrets.”
While the song’s narrative is rather specific in its subject matter, the universality of its theme lends itself well to the effects that COVID-19 has had on independent retail and businesses worldwide. This far-reaching abstraction isn’t lost on Jennings, who had been strategizing the song’s release long before the world turned to hell. “While waiting for the right time to release this song, a tornado hit our city, followed by the pandemic which has massively affected local businesses,” he explains. “So, the song has now taken on a whole new meaning.”
But shrinking back to that corner of McGavock and Riverside Drive in Nashville, the foundation that Fond Object once stood upon has been razed to the ground. In its place will be condos whose future bourgie occupants will probably have no regard for that spot’s historical context and annoyingly probably never outgrew listening to “whatever’s on the radio.”
Meanwhile, a dewy-eyed and sentimental Jennings concludes, “While gentrification is prevalent in Nashville, it was clearer that it was tearing at the fabric of our community… Nothing will take away all the special moments spent there, and I hope this song preserves even just a little bit of it.”
In loving response, Fond Object sings back, “Like every song has a beginning and an end / It’s made to be played again and again. So, I’ll be seeing you, my friend.”
