The stern, dour expressions in the eyes of Ron House and Dan Dow seem to suggest they have been asked, “Where’s the pop section?” one too many times.
The questions should be offensive considering the variety their record store offers. House and Dow, along with a man they refer to as “Bela,” are co-owners of Used Kids Records on High Street, which sells everything from modern pop, rock and rap to folk, blues and jazz. There is even a section for fans of ’60s psychedelic.
Used Kids has survived the trials and tumult that plagued other record stores during the previous decade to become a name commonly associated with the campus business community along with Buckeye Donuts, Adriatico’s Pizza and the Newport Music Hall.
“I’m amazed as anybody else that we’re still here,” House said. “It’s never been life or death.”
“We keep our costs down (and) sell stuff cheap,” he said, sliding a record into its plastic cover.
House and Dow met in the early ’70s when House worked at Magnolia Thunderpussy, a record store in the Short North and Dow at Mole’s. House later left Magnolia to work at Mole’s, the first used record store near campus. It was owned by Ken Stone, who House describes as “the kind of guy who cries when he plays a James Brown record.” Dow, an OSU graduate, would shop at the local record store but he said, “Mole’s was the best place.”
In 1986, they seized an opportunity to open their own record store in a basement adjacent to the building where the store is now located.
The 1990s saw the demise of music stores including World Records, which was where Used Kids is now located, and Vibes, where La Bamba is. Magnolia Thunderpussy moved to the Short North in the latter part of the decade, and in 2002, Singing Dog was forced to relocate to Chittenden Avenue because of the Gateway Project.
At one point, all of these stores competed with each other. If customers were unable to find a record at Singing Dog they could walk north on High Street and to Magnolia’s, CD Warehouse, House of Music and Used Kids before hitting 18th Street.
But in 2001, disaster turned into a blessing. The confined basement suffered a fire, forced Used Kids to move to its much larger residence, a hidden niché between Penn Station and Pita Pit at 1980 N. High St.
There are obvious differences between Used Kids and commercial stores such as Virgin or Sam Goody, one which shoppers experience immediately upon entering and walking up the stairs. The walls are adorned with graffiti, old show fliers and band promotions, which makes for unruly wallpaper.
In the store, CD shelves cover every wall. Below them are long boxes filled with even more CDs.
There are long rows and crates of records everywhere. From Captain Kangaroo’s Treasure House to the new MF Doom 12-inch single, the wide variety is sometimes intimidating to new shoppers.
Dim lighting and music blaring from the speakers that adorn each corner contributed to an atmosphere of a cheap but thrilling concert. From Johnny Cash to hip-hop Madlib, the particular aesthetic is a signature of the store, like the comforting aroma of a neighborhood diner.
Dow insists that the store’s success stems from consistency and knowledge. It receive many CDs and records each day in various conditions and price them accordingly.
“We have Pink Floyd for $3 and Pink Floyd for $9,” Dow said. “We have guys that know a little about everything.”
One of those contributors to the store’s font of musical knowledge is employee Jerry DeCicca, who Dow refers to as an “encyclopedia.”
DeCicca said having a good selection of used music of all different styles has contributed to the store’s devout following.
“There are a lot of people that have been coming here for a long time,” he said, from behind the back counter. Over the speakers, blues legend Blind Willie McTell played, singing about being unhappy about a woman.
Michael Reed, of East Maynard Avenue, is one of the devout.
“They probably introduced me to a couple of bands I listen to. Ninety percent of my records are from their collection,” Reed said.
James O’Neil, a fine arts major, was attracted to the record selection.
“It’s got a good variety,” O’Neil said. “The cheaper the better.”
Over the past few years, House and Dow have experience a slight decline in business. They both attribute it to downloading music from the Internet and CD burning. However, it hasn’t been severely detrimental, House said.
“Everyone still has a job,” said Dow, who noted he is a fan of downloading CD’s.
But for 18 years House and Dow have been able to rely on something that can not be burned: a strong record base.
“With records you have more of a feel, like a culture permanence,” House said.
