Exterior of Dusty Groove in Chicago’s Wicker Park neighborhood
On the corner of Ashland and Holland Avenue is one of Chicago’s premiere record shops — Dusty Groove. The maroon brick store rises up unassumingly from the Wicker Park sidewalk. On its exterior is lower-case signage — a type which evokes the retro charm of a Y2K landing page — and is all the more befitting for a store which helped bring analog records to the internet.
It’s a late Tuesday afternoon, and a scattering of customers weave in between islands of wooden record bins in the long, narrow store. Fingers peruse the thin keys of laminated tabs that the divide the inventory by genre. Blues… Soundtracks… Classical.
The store’s robust collection is prized for its deeper cuts. Brazilian jazz, obscure soundtracks, funk rarities, and plenty of classical curios. Think Henryk Szeryng playing works by Fritz Kreisler, or a set of Paganini Caprices LP displayed on a wall for a neat $1k.
You may be hard-pressed to find these titles elsewhere, but Dusty Groove remains steadfast in retaining its collection online and in-store.
There’s a sentimentality that’s hard to shake when flipping through Dusty Groove’s curated collection. There’s a sense that everything under your fingertips was likely loved by someone else.
The store’s brick walls are casually appointed with a smattering of Dusty Groove merch and pop-culture fanfare — including a sign reading, “Let The Good Times Roll.”
In the 1990s, when Dusty Groove was founded, it seemed like the good times for records had long gone. For one, vinyl had already been in a decades-long decline. The LP had fallen victim to the durability, and form factor of the cassette, which in turn, was superseded by the CD. But with the early-naughts advent of direct-to-download sites such as Napster and iTunes, physical media of all formats — and its brick-and-mortar outposts — seemed to be headed towards a metaphorical cliff.
Several racks of vinyl lined up on the first floor of Dusty Groove
Another state-change came with the emergence of streaming services like Spotify and Apple Music in the 2010s. For a fixed monthly fee, you could enjoy and explore all the music under the sun, as long as the tracks were available — and remained available — on your service of choice.
To be sure, many, many music stores fell victim to these changing currents. But despite the explosion of streaming, vinyl was not dead.
Since 2007, sales for LPs have increased dramatically. Even as digital downloads have declined and paid music subscriptions have grown in the US, vinyl sales have grown for seventeen consecutive years, according to the Recording Industry Association of America. In 2023, 43.2 million vinyl records were sold on primary markets in the U.S. alone. These first-sale numbers represent a greater quantity than the number of CDs being moved and bring in the highest revenue — over $1.35 billion — of any permanent media format (including digital music purchases).
But perhaps surprisingly, classical music communities have been slow to welcome vinyl back into their lives. This is highlighted by recent figures in the U.K.’s classical market — which show vinyl at less than two percent of overall classical units sold. By comparison, CDs made up just over a third of that market’s classical sales; streaming made up 55 percent.
Casting a wide net is easy on streaming services, but often, classical listeners can be hampered by incomplete catalogs or inconsistent attribution. What’s more, streaming services often omit many of the qualitative elements of a physical record that can help give context for listeners: think liner notes, artist introductions, even the full cast of artists and engineers who contributed to the recording. Simply put, when it comes to classical music, vinyl allows for a more straightforward (albeit old-school) listening experience.
Many could, in this respect, call Dusty Groove and its peers survivors, who’ve proved the power of permanent physical media in an age of digital ephemera. But as an in-person and online purveyor of physical goods, Dusty Groove occupies a unique position within the landscape.
Rick Wojcik, owner and co-founder of Dusty Groove, climbs a narrow staircase towards the shop’s staff-only second floor.
Rick Wojcik stands in Dusty Groove, holding a Paganini Caprices vinyl LP that’s priced at $1,000
“My father grew up poor Polish on the South Side of Chicago.” says Wojcik, who makes his way to a small silver-trimmed table, situated by a window outlooking West Haddon Avenue.
“When he had reached a certain point in life — going to the opera meant he had an imagined sort of social position and standing.”
Rick Wojcik came into contact with a rich library of vinyl during his time at the University of Chicago’s campus radio station WHPK. “The overall presence of such a large classical staff was very edifying — as you were always absorbing and experimenting with new music.” adds Wojcik. In the mid-80s, he met James Ginsburg — founder and president of the Chicago-based classical music label Cedille.
Fast-forward to 1996 — in a hard-to-find Hyde Park apartment, an early prototype of Dusty Groove began to take shape — mostly scratching the insatiable itch of Chicago soul- and jazz-heads. Over the next few years, the store would expand, hiring more employees, expanding into e-commerce and eventually ending up on its current corner on Ashland Avenue.
“We wrote our own software almost 30 years ago,” Wojcik explains of the Dusty Groove website.
Many record stores struggle with e-commerce, particularly with classical music. The Dusty Groove, however, holds a digitally cataloged treasure trove of new releases and old recordings. With a filtering system and rotating roster of records to choose from — customers are able to meticulously set parameters for their next vinyl purchase of virtually any genre, sub-genre, or era.
“I would also say for us — maybe no surprise, that some of the things that sell best on vinyl are not the symphonies, not the operas, but, sonatas — solo pieces, string quartets where you’ve got sort of smaller chunks that are easily digested.” states Wojcik.
He continues to speak to a broader decline in interest for certain classical formats — which at one time could be seen in overstuffed bags alongside other high value records of yesteryear. Now, most of these records sit online — or in the basement of the record shop — where they often sell for less than five dollars.
“Opera used to be a real mainstay of the used record business.” adds Wojcik. “They would come with amazing librettos — so if you were at the Lyric Opera of Chicago before they had subtitles — you could go home and understand what the whole thing was about.”
A Dusty Groove staff member floats through a sequestered off area marked by wooden beams, letting the thunderous vibrations of a used hip hop record ring through the concrete floor — accentuating the contrast between the broader function of a record store in a conversation of classical music.
The website’s classical tab highlights various symphonic works — including an album cover of an hourglass precariously sat atop a stack of ruffled papers and leaves. The album, Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony in B Flat Major by the Boston Symphony — Conducted by Serge Koussevitzky, is marked with a condition of “Very Good+.”
A discounted classical record in the Dusty Groove’s bargain basement
“One of the things about classical music is that when you buy a used record — it’s often in really good shape,” says Wojcik.
“People who had that record probably took care of it – (which is) different than somebody who played a copy of Led Zeppelin to death — and were stoned while playing it.”
“The biggest issues are manufacturing.” states Wojcik.
With the vinyl industry’s continued upward trajectory — a question of sustainability begins to arise for record shops like Dusty Groove.
“The cost keeps going up and up. It’s petroleum-based; there’s also supply chain issues and greed with new vinyl in the market.” Wojcik adds.
Consistent pricing is hard to come by for vinyl across different labels. Party A might price a record at a $20 price point, while Party B might sell that same record at a fifty-percent upcharge — an issue particularly endemic in classical music.
Fortunately, the second-hand market for these records keeps the costs low, allowing vinyl to recirculate back online and in-store (a perk that doesn’t exist for streaming or digital downloads).
But not all classical records are fit for a second (or third, or fourth) life.
“It has become impossible to donate a collection to a library or to stations like WFMT,” states Wojcik. “Which may routinely get calls from people saying, ‘can I give you these records?’ And (the station saying) “‘No, we don’t need any more.’”
So, while it’s important to love your records, Wojcik asks customers only to bring in the vinyl that can truly find a new home.
And for the records that are far-beyond repair? Well, they are sold in bulk to staging companies, film sets and local schools in need of non-traditional crafting supplies.
Wojcik and a Dusty Groove staff member moving inventory
”We should keep carrying the traditions forward,” says Wojcik. “I don’t want records to end up in landfills.”
With a few hours until closing — there is hushed energy to Dusty Groove’s back rooms. They’re filled to the brim with recirculated records — most of which pass through quality control checks to make sure they are still playable. Wojcik’s passionate, firsthand account of the vinyl industry seems to be reflected in stacks of titles on every shelf, in every box, and around every corner.
Heading back down to the shop floor, a wide range of enthusiasts mill about, fervently flipping through as many bins as possible.
“You look at these customers, and you realize that there’s a passion and continues to be a passion among very young people.” adds Wojcik. “And that’s a wonderful thing.”
Malcolm Bamba was a 2024 WFMT Andrew Patner Fellow.
