I see hutch being this guy in 15-20 years
“Val Shively is a legendary figure among serious record collectors.
He has a store called R&B Records in a sketchy neighborhood out past West Philly. The building is leaning like the Tower of Pisa because he’s got five million records in there. It’s likely the biggest record store in the world and collectors fly in from the U.K., Germany, Japan and wherever else,
in order to buy from Val. But if they say something wrong, or he doesn’t like their attitude, he explodes in an unbelievable rage and throws them out of the store. (can confirm Hutch already does this)
He’s a white guy who went nuts for Black music when he was young and never recovered. He’s the authoritative collector of doo-wop records on the planet and one of the greatest record collectors of all time, even though his genre is narrow.
One day in 1960 Shively turned the dial of his transistor all the way over to the right-hand side and landed on a Black radio station for the first time. “It blew my mind, hearing Etta James, Baby Washington, “Valerie” by Jackie & the Starlites,” he said. “I like a lot of white music, I love old country, but for me, Black music has more force, more originality and more longevity. And once I got into the Black harmony groups, that was it. Nothing else ever sounded so good to me.”
“Street corner opera,” is how doo-wop has been described. The cult is around lead singers with crazy upper registers, plus the lushness and intricacy of the harmony singers. That’s what Val fell in love with and he never really moved on. He just tunneled deeper and deeper into it.
On the door to his store is a “Do Not Enter” sign, with “Unless You Know What You Want!” printed across it in tiny letters. Another sign said, “New Rules. 5 Minutes and You’re Gone.”
Val doesn’t allow browsing. Most of his business is mail-order, and if you come here as a customer, you need to have a list of what you want. And if you haggle over prices, or complain that he doesn’t have something, or act just a little bit snotty, your ass is going out the door.
There amidst an estimated five million vinyl records in a small island of space, sitting at a scarred old desk heaped with Rolodexes, vinyl 45s, crumpled trash and random novelty items, sits the white-haired emperor of this extraordinary domain.
Matt Barton, the curator of recorded sound at the Library of Congress, has expressed a strong interest in seeing the collection, and Shively is looking forward to cataloging and pricing the records in preparation for Barton’s possible visit later this year. “I’ve never had children because my records are my children. It will be great to sit down and get to know them all again.”
