Record shopping in... Reykjavík
This is the first of what will be an ongoing series here at The Vinyl Cut where we take you on a tour of the record shops, and share our experiences of digging in a particular city.
Digging for vinyl around Reykjavík, the capital city of Iceland, a few truths will become quickly apparent:
1) Every shop with a used LP section will, for some reason, have multiple copies of City, the god-awful 1980 album by ex-Byrds Roger McGuinn and Chris Hillman.
2) Your hopes of finding copious used copies of albums by The Sugarcubes, Björk, Sigur Rós, or other native heroes will be immediately dashed. The locals hold on to those albums like precious artifacts.
3) Every record, used or new, is fricking expensive.
To be fair, the last point applies to every good and service within Reykjavík, thanks to the rising cost of imports and the massive influx of tourists that have descended upon the city post-pandemic. But when it came to my recent visit, the pain on my pocketbook was felt most acutely as I flipped through the bins at a handful of record stores. There, the $1 bins were (essentially) $5 bins, sometimes bumping up to $10 depending on the shop. As for the new and used LPs in the upper bins, they were at least twice as expensive as they probably should be.
Now for the good news. If, like myself, you have a penchant for UK music from the ’80s and ’90s, the record stores of Reykjavík are a gold mine. Within a half-hour of flipping through boxes of records priced at 500 krona (around $4 US at the time of this writing) at one location, I amassed a healthy stack of EPs and 12-inch singles by seminal acts from England and Ireland. And, of course, there’s plenty of other great music to be had from Icelandic artists that never found a worldwide audience. Just ask the friendly folks behind the counter for a recommendation or two and you’re sure to walk out with a new gem for your collection.
Because I was visiting Reykjavík as part of a family vacation, I wasn’t able to hit every shop in the city, nor was I able to spend a huge amount of time at each one. With those caveats, here is my overview of where to find vinyl in Iceland’s capital city.
Making small talk as I was paying for my wares, the proprietor of this humble spot revealed that it was going to be his last Saturday in that particular location. By the end of the following week, he and a bunch of friends were set to move everything into a new, bigger spot with the promise that it would allow them to hold in-store performances and stretch their legs. The news was welcome, as the previous home for Geisladiskabúð Valda was packed stem to stern with media — DVDs were stacked everywhere in the main room, surrounding a large table piled with used CDs. The vinyl was primarily tucked into a back room with your standard racks for flipping, cardboard boxes underneath, and a few IKEA shelves holding their jazz and heavy rock sections. Any kind of upgrade would be an improvement. The selection, though, was solid. Every section held some rarities and odd gems slipped in among the standard fare, and there was a choice local music collection to pick through. God knows what would have happened if my wife hadn't been waiting patiently outside for me, as the batch of LPs and singles that accumulated under my arm after a short spate of digging was substantial.
Score of the Shop: A minty OG copy of Steve McQueen, the second album by Prefab Sprout, the sleek UK pop group led by songwriter Paddy McAloon, that was re-titled Two Wheels Good here in the States.
For treasure hunters, this flea market, open on weekends in a former coal storage building right on the waterfront, is a must-visit. There are a few dozen dealers of vintage clothing, housewares, jewelry, and media. The vinyl options were a little slim, to be fair, but definitely worth a dig. At one booth, a pair of older gents sat awkwardly among racks of records and CDs but were very helpful in pointing me in the direction of some interesting Icelandic artists like hip-hop collective Daughters of Reykjavík and ’70s funk-prog outfit Júdas. Another more packed booth had only one humble box of vinyl, but I managed to yank a few interesting things from among the ABBA collections and easy-listening schlock.
Score of the Shop: The 1981 self-titled EP by all-female Icelandic group Grýlurnar who, at that time, wore trash bags and dynamic eye makeup and played angular art pop in the mode of LiLiPUT and early Lene Lovich.
When it was founded in the ’80s, this record shop and label was responsible for the formation of The Sugarcubes, the first Icelandic group to achieve any kind of international attention, and also released music by now-well-known artists like Sigur Rós, Gus Gus, and múm. These days, the attention at the space seems focused on the upstairs café where local and visiting DJs spin, but they still keep racks nicely stocked with LPs and CDs. The shop’s spotlight is on new releases (many of which you can likely find for less money back in the States) and on Icelandic artists, but their offerings on those fronts is extensive.
Score of the Shop: A trio of limited 12-inch singles recently released on LIM, a new electronic music label founded by DJ/producers Jamesendir and LaFontaine.
Like Smekkleysa, this strong little shop puts a decided focus on newer Icelandic fare, with plenty of freshly released wax from the likes of theremin virtuoso Hekla and dramatic rock group Þórir Georg. But the gents in charge of this spot have a bead on what’s worth bothering with when it comes to used vinyl. The wall had some impressive titles, and the racks of secondhand wax were blessedly free of fluff. I took umbrage at the prices they were asking for some records that weren’t in the best shape, but there were enough tempting titles in great condition to help tip the scales in the right direction.
Score of the Shop: A NM copy of the soundtrack to Tron, bought for a very reasonable price due to some minor sleeve damage.
Imagine condensing a spot like Amoeba Music or Austin’s Waterloo Records down to about half of its current inventory and you might get some sense of the scope and mood of Lucky Record Shop. Floor-to-ceiling shelves hold hundreds of DVD and Blu-ray titles while the main floor is teeming with new and used wax, racks of posters and other ephemera, and reasonably priced stereo equipment sits among it all. It’s the kind of spot that could be an all-day affair for a digger with catholic musical interests. I stuck primarily to the Icelandic music section and the rock/pop area, though I did get tempted multiple times by some seriously hot jazz rarities that lined the walls. The only potential downside for some shoppers is that they don’t do the best job of separating out artists among the sections. But for this guy, that only meant a greater chance of uncovering something unexpected in the stacks.
Score of the Shop: ebondàzzar, the lone studio album from 1980 by Australian freak rock/experimental outfit Peak. RIYL: Neu!, Adrian Belew-era King Crimson, Scary Monsters (and Super Creeps).
This is the stateliest of all the record shops in downtown Reykjavík. Open since 1998, this lovely little space keeps a steady stream of folks coming through to enjoy a coffee or a beer at their in-house café alongside a good number of music heads ready to flip through their tidy and well-curated selection of music. The shop specializes in jazz and classical fare, with an impressive number of CDs on hand for the serious consumer. And like Reykjavík Record Shop, their popular music section is blessedly free of junk and cheap nonsense. These folks know what’s good—my quick flip though the racks revealed some nice UK pressings of Elvis Costello’s early work and late ’70s Genesis—and treat it all with the appropriate amount of respect and care.
Score of the Shop: The lone full-length by Þrumuvagninn, an Icelandic heavy rock group deeply indebted to early Judas Priest and Iron Maiden.
