Do you have a couple of old records stashed away that you would like to sell? There are plenty of collectors out there willing to buy a stack of old records that you've treasured over the years. Well, few records are worth a lot of money, so read this article carefully - you may be a few steps away from earning a decent reward for them!
Steps
Finding and Selling Recordings
- Lately, early vintage rock records have been in demand on the market, especially from dead cult figures like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison. In addition, a lively trade is now raging among collectors of the 45s, especially 1950s rhythm and blues and early rock. Of great interest are rare and unusual recordings (in matters of foreign policy and so on), compositions by Elvis Presley and the Beatles. Also of considerable interest are records that are sold with posters of performers.
Go through your record library - attics, basements and cabinets. Perhaps this way you can earn some money and free up valuable space in your home for other purposes. Valuable may be: LP (LP (Eng. long play, LP from long-playing - long-playing 25 and 30 cm discs, play at 33 1/3 rpm), 78s (several fragile discs, play at 78 rpm on each side) and 45s (17 - centimeter discs, play at 45 rpm).
Set aside any records you want to get rid of and get ready to benefit from your past.
Study supply and demand. How rare is the entry? If millions were originally sold of just such records, it is likely that the buyer will be more willing to buy it in a music store with good storage conditions or from someone else. Scarcity - that's what matters! This record must be in demand for the following reasons: a special artist (for example, a great talented musician who died young and did not have time to make many records), the label on which he was recorded (in the original recording, as opposed to "reissue"), or an unusual feature on the record (eg, V-disc, wartime recording, clippings taken from radio broadcasts, original picture, or 10" LP). The “out-of-print” record (no longer produced) is also considered scarce, there are fewer such offers on the market. So-called "bootlegs" (recordings made illegally from live concerts or broadcasts) are also valuable to collectors.
Check the status of the entry. If the record is as good as new or near perfect condition, the record will be of the highest value. Recordings in "very good" condition should not show any distorted sounds or degradation of audio quality. “Good” means that there may be some defects, but this is tolerable. "Acceptable" means that the record can play, but there will be noise and distraction from the listening experience, which reduces the value of the recording. Records with surface scratches are worth little or nothing. Some sellers have their own evaluation criteria.
Think about the content of the post. Generally speaking, the interest in music is much higher than in the field of humorous records, and the cost of music records, as a result, will also be higher. Some types of music recordings sell for a very high price. Jazz records, old Broadway originals, and movie soundtracks tend to have the highest market and monetary value. In addition, early records in the style of rhythm and blues are considered collectible. Among classical recordings, orchestral performances are considered the most valuable, followed by instrumental, chamber music and concertos, solo vocal and operatic arias, and finally the complete opera. For some collectors, the type of recording is important - mono or stereo, which, accordingly, affects the final cost of the record. See tips below.
Find the right buyer for your treasure. Recordings are purchased by collectors, mail-order dealers, used by music stores and just ordinary people (sometimes out of nostalgia or love for the artist; in addition, some music lovers believe that the sound of high-quality vinyl recordings is better than on CD-ROM or other media ). For really rare records, the best deals can come from resellers who know the market like the back of their hand and how much they can resell for. Collectors are emotional, sometimes reaching fanaticism to complete their collection. They can pay a lot for a special copy. It is very rare to get a rare recording of a popular artist at an affordable price, including only the cost price without dealers' markup.
Research the market first. Careful observation, along with knowledge of the recording industry and its artists, is essential to determine the value of a particular record. When (and if) you determine that a record is indeed rare, it will be easier for you to determine its value. For a deeper understanding of pricing, read the tips below.
In the 21st century, technology is developing so rapidly that generations of all kinds of gadgets replace each other without lingering in our memory for a long time. True, there are also "the last of the Mohicans", those who cannot imagine their lives without paper books and records. Eilon Paz talks about real "vinylophiles" in the photo project "Dust & Grooves".
Eilon Paz worked on the creation of the photocycle for six years. During this time, she visited not only various cities in America, but also outside the country to find vinyl collectors. As it turned out, there are many such enthusiastic music lovers. Eilon Paz photographed them against the background of high racks with records, the number of which beats all possible records. The author of the project is sure that these people are doing a great job: they collect rarities and ensure their safety.
All collected images were published as a separate illustrated edition of 416 pages. The book is titled Dust & Grooves: Adventures in Record Collecting. The photographs capture the everyday life of collectors: in one studio, the records are sorted alphabetically, in the other - by the color of the cover and arranged like a rainbow.
Eilon Paz speaks fondly of those whom she met during the project: "They collect things, musical artifacts, over time it becomes not just a habit, but a real passion that changes the lives of these people." The photographer adds that each of the plates becomes a "marker" of a certain stage in the life of collectors: looking at one, they remember their youth, looking at the second - addictions and tastes. Gradually, a fascinating story is being formed about the path that each of these amazing music lovers had to go through.
A musical number is partly a number about what is not. In a world of mp3s, blogs, and collections measured in hundreds of gigabytes, few people really care about music. New albums do not cause spiritual awe, you want to get rid of the freshly downloaded one as soon as possible. The only thing that still evokes tenderness, envy and simple human interest in people is a long-forgotten vinyl record. Alexey Munipov found out how the Moscow vinyl world works and met with the main collectors.
“I tried never to change with anyone. And he didn't let me listen to his records. There is money - buy, no - go to x ... ". It's hot in the basement of Transylvania, overhead is a trading floor with tons of CDs: there are no vinyl records there, but this is the main music lover's point in Moscow, and where to start asking questions about collectors, if not here?
The owner of Transylvania, Boris Nikolaevich Simonov, was once the president of the Moscow Society of Philophonists and, in theory, should know everyone. His own collection is legendary. They say that everything there is only on vinyl. That in size it is not inferior, and even exceeds the collection of "Transylvania". That a separate apartment is reserved for it. And that, of course, no one has access to it.
All this turns out to be true.
“I started collecting records in the mid-60s,” says Simonov. - I knew for sure that no one would give me records, I didn’t want to beg to listen either. I didn’t run through the forests, through the jolts - I only bought and sold, and only from trusted people. There were several serious fartsov in Moscow. They made money on something else - on mohair, bologna raincoats, scarves, watches, jeans. Sailors, artists, journalists, athletes, various diplomats were unloaded. Vinyl was also brought, but no one really knew what to do with it. On the one hand, it seems to be a fashionable thing, on the other hand, no one understood music. Well, they knew Tom Jones, Paul Mauriat's orchestra, The Beatles... Out of greed, our people bought vinyl at sales, and, oddly enough, interesting things came across there. Here is how I selected them. The best left, the rest sold - for the same money. It wasn't a business, it was just that I could listen a lot and keep a lot for myself. Well, something has accumulated."
Other collectors talk about what exactly has accumulated there with a mixture of envy and admiration. “I would not mention any forty-five, Boris is right there - yes, I have seven of them! - said DJ Misha Kovalev. - Well, seven times - sell one, I say. And he - no, how can I sell it? She's good! Boris has this logic: if he drops a good record out of his hands, then all sorts of fools will ruin it! It's better to let it lie down."
That compacts are for suckers, Simonov does not say out loud, but in general the approach is clear. There is no vinyl in Transylvania in principle. “And how to trade the most expensive? These little people will come, they will start to look, touch, they will want to listen, God forbid, they will scratch them ... Well, do not kill them for this? Dangerous!"
In the Soviet Union, the record's life was bizarre and often fleeting. “A fresh longplay cost 50-55 rubles. But in the early days it could cost even 100. Some Creedence "Cosmo's Factory" comes - they immediately grab the "writers" who record music for money, distill it on film from morning to night and repeatedly justify their money. After that, the record turns into mush. There was no idea about rarities, curiosities, collector's editions - in short, about what is now called collectables and is described in thick catalogs - there was. “Even I didn’t understand then that the first edition is more valuable because it sounds better. What people now pay a lot of money for - some original King Crimson, The Beatles on a yellow Parlophone - before you could just kick with your foot.
It was a world of complex schemes, endless chains, dotted lines “from the soloist of the Bolshoi to the composer Artemyev”, calls and resales, honest store assistants, quiet swindlers and serious collectors - Dosya Shenderovich, Rudik the red and Rudik the black, Vasily Lvovich and Vasily Dmitrich. According to Simonov, there were at least several collections in Moscow that were an order of magnitude larger than his own. But this world seems to have long and irrevocably ended. It is difficult to imagine a young man who now goes to other people's apartments for vinyl. Why and who might need it?
***
Vova Terekh, the guitarist of the Riving Strings group, is quite a young man, he hardly heard about the two Rudiks. Terekh is standing in shorts in the middle of his two-room apartment, cigarette smoke is hanging in the air, around the records, records, only records. From furniture only a bed, a table and a bar. Terekh pours tea, puts a 1969 Edgar Broughton Band record on the player and, waiting for the first chords, talks about what every collector talks about first: “Well, listen to yourself - it sounds completely different!”
Sound is what people are supposed to buy vinyl for. Vinyl has an analog sound, a compact has a digital sound: collectors call it flat, clamped, unnatural - whatever, the main thing is that there is no life in it. “I wasn’t a maniac,” Terekh says. - I listened to compacts, collected decently. And one day, for nostalgic reasons, I decided to listen to the Deep Purple album “In Rock” - I loved it as a child. I bought a branded CD - everything seems to be in place, but the music is somehow not like that. I got another edition, then a remastered one, then an expensive Japanese one - everything is not right. Well, once at a party I came across an old record, put it on the player - and realized that we were being deceived.
“Then there were no CDs, no DVDs, no cassettes—vinyl was the only medium,” Terekh says, rummaging through the boxes. - All the best engineering minds in the world were engaged only in achieving the perfect sound. Some records sound like this - it's impossible to believe that they were recorded in the 68th. Collectors hate the word “remastering” especially fiercely: “Some guy sits and decides how to improve the old album. How does he know? Well, yes, there you can hear details that were not heard before - so they may not need to be heard!
Terekh collects garage, psychedelic, punk and kraut rock; it is clear that even holding the original edition of the legendary Nuggets record in his hands is already an adventure. Or find Lou Reed on a junk compilation under a pseudonym, before The Velvet Underground. All this is addictive: the same albums have different circulations, different versions, English, American and other editions. The most annoying thing is that they also sound different. “The American oak has such a mass, a deep track, and the sound presses directly. I like that. English sounds very different – not better, not worse, just different.” Therefore, Terekh has seven pieces of The Velvet Underground's first album, and they are all different.
***
And, of course, design. To impress the neophyte, he is always shown wonders and beauties. All this takes place under the slogan "This does not happen on a CD." The Faces record rolls eyes. Sergeant's mustache and epaulettes are invested in "Sergeant Pepper". The "Jesus Loves the Stooges" EP comes with special glasses that show a 3D dead donkey on one side of the envelope and a 3D big-mouthed Iggy on the other. In the Jethro Tull "Stand Up" envelope, there are paper figures of the participants inside. Leather envelopes, gold lettering, colored vinyl, plastic windows, posters and inlays, pretty much everything.
Dmitry Kazantsev, a designer and part-time blues musician, has about 5,000 records, mostly old, American ones. They, contrary to expectation, do not take up much space - two large racks, that is, half a room. The owner without looking takes out a CD: “What is there to compare? It is almost 9 times smaller than the plate. If you reduce the picture by 9 times, all the details will be lost. The compact is not collectible at all. The price for him is ugh, nothing. In production, it costs a penny. And at the record - how much it took one paper.
On the floor, on an armchair, on a cabinet, piles are unsorted. Dmitry picks up the top plate and shows: “Well, here it is. Album by The Beach Boys "Love You". You first take it, examine it - what a brilliant design, how everything here is thought up to the smallest detail, drawn. Then you turn it over, and there in the middle of this ingenious design is some kind of idiotic amateur photo. And so you think, what kind of idiocy, you look at the name of the photographer, you think: well, how is it possible, is this photographer mu ... k or what? That is... You understand? You haven’t even started listening to the record yet, and already so much fun!”
Kazantsev demonstrates rare sanity: he does not chase after different versions of the same album, he has seen collectables in a coffin, he pays attention only to the music and the quality of the recording. “The same The Velvet Underground on the first albums - well, the horror is what's going on! And they play somehow, and it's recorded monstrously. Or the first editions of The Beatles: they now cost wild money, it is very difficult to get them, and at the same time they are almost always killed, and most of them are generally monophonic. I am satisfied with later reissues. But in the end, he suddenly admits: “Here, of course, you need to understand ... There are fewer and fewer records, and more and more of us. Almost all vinyl in the world has already been assembled, described, prices are rising. And here you sit and think: maybe buy for future use? Then it won't."
***
From this “for the future”, from thinking about the difference in sound, from the phrases “I'll take two, one just in case”, an insane collector's vein begins to beat in people's heads. There are vinyl shops in Moscow, but real collectors don't go to them. At least not the ones in plain sight. There are two or three points on Gorbushka, there is a strange store at Melodiya - with unopened Pugacheva from the warehouse, and of course, there is the Sound Barrier on Leninsky and its owner Pasha. Everyone has a lot of complaints about Pasha, but no one can compete with the Sound Barrier: there are more than a hundred thousand records here - and there is no other place like this collection of Soviet vinyl.
The quiet gatherer loves hidden places, like the point in 1st Smolensky Lane, which is run by Andrey Mikhailov, also known as Andrey Daltonik. This is a room filled from floor to ceiling with records - no sign, no bell, no hint. Here, as if by themselves, heartbreaking stories are born - about drunken collectors, collectors who disappeared, about people who ate only canned food and corn without oil. One artist went - he drank himself. One chemist went - he drank himself, drowned. There was a couple, mother and son, nicknamed Doodle Sharks - tenacious as hell. Collected only the classics, and only old records, 78 rpm. Once they showed a record of Bella Vrubel - this is the wife of the artist Vrubel, she sang a little, recorded 3 or 4 records. The price is - 1500 dollars, at least. And they bought it from an old woman for 50 rubles.
“Jazz that collects or rock - those are still nothing,” says a local consultant, thin, toothless, in a sweater that still remembers Andropov. - But if you start collecting classics - that's all. With ends. Here, take a clarinet concerto by Mozart: there it is in a minor, then in a major, and then once - and it throws you into the abyss. Hell. Beginning in the middle, middle at the end, end at the beginning - nothing is clear. Like Blavatsky. You start collecting this - write wasted. Classic - it strangles people.
And then there are stampers or catalogers - they collect entirely catalogues: let's say, all the records released on the Vertigo label. Andrey Daltonik, who is very fond of Italo disco, was said to have 5,000 records from the German label ZYX Music in his collection. Andrey rejected the figure: “Yes, only three thousand came out there. And yet I do not have enough positions of 70. Five thousand is if you count all my Eurodisco at all. In total, there are 12 and a half thousand records in his collection. “They stand in a separate room, no problem. The family doesn't mind. But no one enters without me.”
By all accounts, vinyl is on the rise. The market is growing, sales are increasing, people are willing to pay big money. Sellers should be happy about this - but it seems to only annoy them. “I don’t like to work with the same oligarchs. The store owner winces. - They are all in a fuss, they themselves do not know what they want. Tiresome people."
Those who don't know what they want buy their Deep Purple "In Rock" and walk away. They remain their own - and you can already deal with them. It's a thin but strong network, a sort of Web 2.0 collectors' network, a network of people who know each other that no eBay auction can match. In addition, Mikhailov says that prices on eBay are often higher than his. “Since it became possible to buy from Russia, everything has taken off incredibly. Hungry people flew in. I just see it." It is more difficult, but also more reliable, to use personal connections: somewhere in Sussex there was a box with unopened vinyl, and in Krasnoyarsk there is a buyer for it. And it won't be listed on eBay. Auction is anonymity, and collecting is always communication. On eBay, God forbid, they will deceive, and if a person deceives, then here he is, nearby. It is better to find your dealer somewhere in America or people who go to England, Japan, Finland and Holland for records. The main thing is to make contact.”
***
The network of acquaintances is also the network of contempt. Everyone here knows everyone and everyone can't stand each other. Collectors of orchestras and music of the 50s - collectors of punk and psychedelia. Jazzmen - collectors of Melodiya. Fans of prog rock 1968-1971 - those who also love 1972-1973. Music lovers - huckster. Hucksters - students. Students are fans of Nazareth. Connoisseurs of kraut-rock - connoisseurs of Italo-disco. Buyers of old vinyl - buyers of modern. Narrow specialists - broad. Connoisseurs of the classics - all the rest.
Below all on the ladder of hatred are those who collect the exotic - Japanese pop music, Dutch rock, African twists. In a small apartment where there is no space, but only paths - to the bed, the player and the electric organ, Misha Kovalev puts me a seven-inch of some idiotic Dutch: bought at a flea market for one euro. Kovalev is a GITIS teacher and DJ. Collects all the fun. I am very pleased with the fact that no one here is chasing after this: once in the Sound Barrier they managed to snatch part of the collection of Tsvetov, the main Soviet internationalist in Japan, - no one else needed the Japanese stage. Another time, a cabinet with Cuban music appeared there: the main Latin specialist in Moscow died, the widow brought everything “to Pasha”. Each record had a hand-drawn ex-libris, in some places even home-made covers. The closet stood for a couple of days, we managed to dig up something, then the collection went to England - in the West, Cubans on vinyl are terribly expensive. Collections of the dead in general is a rich topic. Their relatives used to throw them away, sometimes they were taken by trucks to Gorbushka and sold by weight. “I got a lot of good things,” Simonov said. - But I recently had a flood - only records from the dead were flooded. I will no longer take from the dead, well, to hell with them.
Kovalev says all the necessary words about the sound, about the sense of time, about the fact that this music is simply not on CD - no one remembers the bands that released three singles and fell apart, and there is nothing about them on the Internet. The main thing says in the end: somehow the actual music has been preserved in these records. Life, warmth, breath - the devil knows what. And he listens to his seven-inchers, but he can’t listen to them, rewritten on CD. No cover, no envelope - can't even remember what it is. “I once went into a DJ shop in Amsterdam: thousands of records, all in white envelopes and with blurred titles. Almost died there."
And then, you can’t buy too much on vinyl: it’s both expensive and dreary, and you get tired of dragging. Vinyl is selection, and selection is exactly what is needed now. Without search, without effort, without these seemingly absurd barriers, music withers, shrinks, disappears. Like gigabytes of everything - but there is nothing to listen to. Do not want.
“Go,” advised Kovalev in parting, “to Gorbushka. There, people have been reselling the same records to each other for years. That’s right, collectors.”
***
The red tent in the yard of the Rubin factory is a strong point. People who list and catalog only The Beatles or only the Canterburys, change Sweet for Slade and Slade for Boney M - they are all here. This is the Moscow Society of Philophonists in the form in which it is still alive. Saturday and Sunday - collection in the morning. Simonov, hearing about him, said only: "Well, these are finished."
Here is a man who has 4,000 records, and everything is only Deep Purple: all editions, and all solo albums, and solo records of everyone who played on solo records. Here is a specialist on the Beatles: after all, young man, there are collections of eight thousand - and only the Beatles. In the middle stands a copy with glasses: he can’t say much, he can hardly stand, and the neighbors chase him away, because he seems to have crap himself - but he holds the bag of records tightly. “The oldest client,” says the current president of the society, half apologetically.
It smells of decay, greed and peppercorns here. And also lack of will: under this red awning, not people gather, but the collections that have mastered them. Any gathering is, in essence, an absurd craving for order; to the opportunity to equip, collect, preserve and describe at least a tiny piece of life. In the end, Deep Purple is not infinite, and nothing is infinite - sooner or later all the rarest positions will be closed, and the collection will become complete, ideal, perfect.
But there are no complete collections. You can collect Melodiya all your life, find rare Soviet jazz, records of drunken pianists - and quite by accident find out that at the Tbilisi branch of Melodiya at night, on the third shift, they wrote and printed trendy music like cover versions for Nino Ferrer for money . These records are not in the official Melodiya catalog, which means they do not exist - but they do exist. Or hear about the record library of a modest KGB officer from the 5th department, where they sent 20 copies of each (every!) Melodiev's record - including forbidden ones. Where she is and what is there is unknown.
“No one really knows anything,” says Kazantsev. - There is an envelope from one country, and the record is made in another. Released in Holland, it says "Made in Sweden", but made in England. Or they started to print on one label, and finished printing on another. They sound different, but differ only in the fact that some tiny R stands there. Or even not worth it. No Internet will help you, this is not described in any catalogs. I have a Donovan record - no one can even figure out where it was made.
Somewhere in the depths of Gorbushka, a fat man, surrounded by records, almost shouts: “You don’t know what collections are! You don't know what rarities are! These are not collectors, but poof! Real rarities do not sell, do not change, do not show, do not talk about them. Real collections do not fit in apartments! They are stored - in hangars! They are being transported by trucks!” Obviously, I will never see them - to talk about labels, reprints, rarities and Yevstigneev's jazz record library, imaginary trucks slowly go into the distance. Like dreams of peace, like a ghost of a world where there is nothing but music. Like Moby Dick, who is completely impossible to catch up.
Buro 24/7 talked to people for whom vinyl is more precious than life
Moor, SuperDJ
How much do you spend on records
Almost all. I leave at least a life.
most valuable copy
It is very difficult. It's the same as saying what your favorite record is. You can’t name your favorite, because there are others, and the question immediately arises, why are they needed then? But I have an INXS record, I think it's from 1985, autographed by Michael Hutchence and the whole band. She is more valuable than anything else.
object of desire
There is a wishlist, in which there are about 5 thousand positions. My bag with 80 records was recently stolen from me, and now I really want to restore everything that I lost. This is my #1 desire right now.
Where buys
Online stores, markets, vinyl fairs... When I travel abroad, I try to find vinyl stores. In any of them you can always find something for yourself. And in which online stores - this is classified information.
Who has the best collection
The collection of records is tailored to the one who collects it. Collecting for the public is not a collection. For further sale - also not a collection. A collection is when the chosen music causes tremors, heartbeats, you want to possess it, that's why you collect it. For this reason, the lost 80 records is like losing a part of yourself.
What to lose
Now they produce a lot of all kinds of equipment. In the 80s, the Chinese made a bunch of tape recorders: the sound was plastic, it was impossible to listen to. Someone was happy with it, and someone bought expensive cassettes. In a turntable, the main thing is how it spins, everything else is the speakers. A lot also depends on the needle. There are players that many records do not even take. You put on them, and the record jumps. Vinyl, it is different, can be heavy, and the needle must cope with it.
I have three players at home. Just because I'm a DJ.
Andrey Smirnov, founder of the vinyl label Aby Sho Music
(released on records Onuka, The Hardkiss, Brutto)
How much do you spend on records
It's hard to answer. I order from a supplier in bulk, he sends me every six months. A total of 800-900 dollars.
most valuable copy
A few years ago I released Depeche Mode vinyl - it was the first Ukrainian edition, and I have the first record out of three hundred. This is a favorite. And if the money - the first press of the album The Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd cost me 600 pounds.
object of desire
Record by Japanese pornstar Reiko Ike, released only in Japan in the late 1960s and early 1970s. I'm looking for a first press, it costs about 500-600 euros, I'm still trying to find a cheaper one.
Where buys
Where I see. Overseas, on Discogs and eBay. I order the supplier from the list of new products that he provides me.
Who has the best collection
I have never measured collections. Everyone has his own: one of my comrades collects only autographed records, the other - old rock first presses, someone collects more DJ music. I'm closer to my collection.
What to lose
Everyone chooses for himself. Many people have a negative attitude towards DJ equipment. Real music lovers dream of some "airplane" for 10-15 thousand euros, so that it sounds best on it. But I am far from prejudice and play everything on a regular DJ player.
Vadim Glina, entrepreneur
How much do you spend on records
Sometimes $20, sometimes nothing. I buy and sell records, do business [Vadim has a point in the Petrovka market, pavilion A28. - Buro 24/7], because my expenses are such that I can recoup what I spent. It also happens that I buy a record that I have long dreamed of, I listen - but I don’t like it. You have to sell or change, but sell more often.
most valuable copy
This is a Let It Be - The Beatles box. It includes the box itself, the record, the poster and the book. In 1970, it cost about 20 pounds, and in our time about 4,000 dollars. At the time, it was crazy money. Also a promo copy of The Doors - they were printed in order to send to radio stations and music critics.
object of desire
It's so hard to choose ... Just imagine: you are sitting at the table, and in front of you are oysters, black caviar, works of culinary art. It's very hard to choose. That's how it is here.
Where buys
On eBay, for example. In general, a narrow circle of music lovers brings me records for sale, and I choose. These can be vinyls that are in every home, some kind of Soviet stage. And there is, for example, Larisa Mondrus, a singer who emigrated to Germany, where she released several albums that were not successful. In the USSR, her records were published in "Soviet Stage" envelopes with an abstract pattern. And now Larisa Mondrus, whose record cost nothing, is estimated at $25.
Who has the best collection
Everyone thinks they have the best collection. In Los Angeles, I got into one store, where a person has about 100,000 records for sale. His own collection - about 25 thousand. At the same time, he still has the rarest vintage audio equipment.
What to lose
A record that was produced in Britain should be played on British equipment, in the Soviet Union on Soviet equipment. Each country-manufacturer is designed for its own standard.
