Starbass
Records
920 W
Burnside St., 827-7173
www.starbass.com is
not yet up and running.
There is a certain, as the French say, "I don't know what"
about the pocket-sized neighborhood bounded by West Burnside,
Oak, 9th and 11th. Don't get me wrong--there are plenty of
lovely little nip'n'tuck districts scattered around America's
Most Livable City, but this particular cultural oasis-type
thing catches my eye. Not quite part of the Pearl District's
calculated, soulless development of Northwest PDX, this is
more of an eclectic destination, with the likes of Powell's
Books, Rocco's Pizza, Ozone, Locals Only, the newly minted
Crowsenburg's Deli and Reading Frenzy (all flush with victory
over the now retreated Taco Del Mar--touché!).
And of course, Starbass Records.
I recently huddled with two of the three part-owners of
Starbass, Geoffrey Beachnau-Hood (who sports the rather
naughty DJ moniker "Lotion Pimp"...woof!) and Dave Gibbs
(known behind the tables as "davebot"...metal claws and
laser eyes, possibly?). They told me the sordid--and yet
oddly uplifting--tale of how this little electro-techno-whatzit
record shop has grown along with Portland's burgeoning dance
culture, aiding and abetting it with gentle, yet sharp,
prods.
The lads say that Starbass Records emerged in Portland
back in April of '97 as a specialist music retail store,
right above the LaurelThirst Pub up on Northeast Glisan
Street. After a brief spell in this windowless void, Geoffrey
and his wife, Dawn, the third part-owner, bought the place.
Fortunately, a new clothing and DJ-culture store over in
Northwest, 23 Skidoo, opened and offered Starbass the opportunity
to join its hive. But, answering the call of Fate issued
to so many hipster enterprises, 23 Skidoo folded, and by
October 1997, Geoffrey and Dawn had relocated their business
to the third floor of The Modish Building on Burnside, in
the block where they now reside.
Starbass immediately set out to bring rare and specialist
vinyl to the DJs and dance music buffs in our very own Portland.
Right next door, party promotion and general good-karma
provision company One Tribe was being run by Manoj Mathews
(now of IMIX Records).
"Manoj was really good for us," Geoffrey explains. "People
coming up to the One Tribe office would stop by at Starbass
and from there, word of mouth was how we operated."
However, Lotion Pimp and the wacky Starbass gang (including
Ben Niderost, record buyer, music encyclopedia and one half
of the "Ben & Ravi" house music express) knew they needed
a ground-floor storefront to sell their wares. Plus, a drug
bust in nearby offices, coupled with the fact the elevator
was always brimming with stale piss, was not good for business,
they reckoned.
So, in August 1998, Starbass moved operations around the
corner to 920 W Burnside St. Storefront + more stock = general
cool place to find all your DJ needs.
Wondering if Geoffrey and Dave are elitist prigs, I ask,
"Do you sell only to select DJs, or keep records back for
yourself?" Always trying to instigate a fight, that's the
Cockney rebel in me. "Never!" they reply in tandem, obviously
not fazed by my provocation. They go on to explain that
they are in the business to keep people ahead of the game,
totally supplied with their music of preference.
"If some records have come in that Dave, Ben or I really
want, we'll take them after we've ordered enough for the
customers," Geoffrey tells me, looking all nonchalant. Dave
says, "People snap up the new vinyl pretty quickly. It's
hard to keep a lot of the latest titles on the shelf."
I try a different angle. "What about the other specialist
DJ music stores in town--Platinum and 360 Vinyl, for example?"
I'll rile the bastards if it kills me.
"They're great," this pair of saints informs me.
"Everyone is in this game together, to provide a source
for a growing scene and profession," Geoffrey says. "If
we don't have a particular record in stock, we'll send them
down to Platinum or give them advice as to where to find
what they're looking for." These geezers are too nice. What
ever happened to record store owners being pretentious wankers?
As they're obviously not succumbing to my crap strong-arm
tactics, I ask the fellas what to look for in the future.
Geoffrey tells me they are in the process of joining the
"Internet community," which I'm told gathers via computers
in some fashion. On the developing Starbass Webstore, punters
can purchase the latest and hard-to-find vinyl over the
web, while checking out audio samples for added stimulation.
"Better technology and equipment is available for DJs and
producers to get their hands on cheaply these days," Geoffrey
explains. "We have a lot of well-produced music that needs
to be bought; the website is a perfect platform and an obvious
step forward in our business, and for the future of vinyl."
Well said, my old mucker. Let us collectively flick our
hair at the mass-consumerized CD market. Viva Starbass.
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