RIP HMV and Blockbuster.
The Jesus and Mary Chain T-shirts and Millionaire’s Shortbread ice cream, will never have such a solid foothold on the high street again.
Big commercial businesses they may have been, but their collective closure signals the demise of something more. Music and video stores tangibly represent so many beautiful ideals; discovery and enlightenment, the slacker hangout, cool Americana, chance encounters and coming of age.
To commiserate the migration of these venues, let’s escape to the ‘screw the permit’ days of 1995’s Empire Records.
Written by an ex-Tower Records employee, the poster tag line for Empire Records was; ‘they’re selling music, they’re not selling out’ so granted, it’s coming from a slightly more independent angle than HMV.
But what better fashspiration than Liv Tyler as Empire’s divine Corey Mason? Her look is all innocent provocateur – a cropped baby blue mohair jumper (red bra optional), mini kilt, chunky boots and pink patent backpack.
Yeah, Debi is cooler (for shaving her head and making A.J a badge with STUPID on it) and Gina more entertaining (for parading in a tiny apron and shagging Rex Manning on the photocopier) but Corey takes the crown for teaching us that nobody’s perfect, even though they may look it.
When she finally quits taking speed (to revise all night and get into Harvard, natch), kisses A.J and demands he go to art school, we realise she’s always been a total cutey and geez, it’s confusing being 17 (and permanently on cheap stimulants), right?
Empire’s future is saved by everyone having a massive party, and that pesky meddling interweb is just a tiny pixel on the horizon.
If only life ever got as complicated as that, then I think HMV would still be shifting the brilliant Empire Records soundtrack for a few more years to come.
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