Comment

Without HMV, predictable streaming algorithms will ruin our taste in music

HMV
HMV Cardiff, Wales Credit: Getty

Root through the bottom of my bedroom drawers and you’ll find an assortment of CDs that haven’t seen the light of day in some time. Rub away the thin layer of dust on their cases, and you’ll probably spot the HMV barcode, emblematic of a misspent youth that entertained my earliest flirtations with music.

I have vivid memories of discovering American punk rock in the Manchester store, browsing the punk aisle to find NOFX’s Pump Up The Valuum and AFI’s Sing The Sorrow for the first time, followed by the darker, heavier sounds of System of a Down, Nickelback, and Metallica. Hearing the latter’s St. Anger album was one of those defining moments in my musical development; I’d have to dig very deeply to recall a record that resonated more deeply with the storm of hormonal confusion swirling inside me.

But it was a 1999 purchase of The Slim Shady LP, recommended to me by a knowledgeable staff member of HMV, the “Top Dog for Music,” that converted me into a regular store visitor, quick to discover Dr. Dre, 50 Cent, and Cypress Hill. Then: N.W.A, 2Pac, Notorious B.I.G, and niche, obscure pockets of hip hop. And then just about everything else. Perhaps this laid down the foundations for my career as UK editor of music magazine XLR8R.

So, naturally, like many other nostalgic music lovers, I was saddened last week to hear that the 97-year-old retailer had collapsed into administration for the second time in six years. Because HMV has, for many people like myself and those outside the M25 without access to other record shops, been a gateway to musical exploration.

Scroll through hashtag mentions for #hmvadministration on Twitter, and you’ll find reams of comments mourning its time and special memories within its aisles. “I used to love going into hmv & listening to  singles with the big soft earphones. Then buying a cd #Goodtimes,” reads one. “I worked in HMV Brighton briefly between 1984/5. I turned up amazed that you were allowed to borrow up to 3 LPs overnight to 'tape' that were then returned next day, cellophane added and put back out on the racks,” reads another. 

HMV
HMV Cardiff, Wales Credit: Getty

Nostalgia aside, I'm concerned that HMV's closure would strengthen the streaming bubble that leads to predictable monotony. As the BBC journalist and documentary-maker Adam Curtis points out, modern culture has become static, because algorithms of streaming and social media platforms give us more of what they think we’ll like. I like Nils Frahm and Max Richter so I’m recommended Jóhann Jóhannsson and Ólafur Arnalds. While I won’t deny that I’ve discovered some great acts this way, I’m insulated from joyously unexpected new finds. Palettes can quickly stale.

Unlike streaming, HMV encourages totally random browsing, and the staff – music fanatics who tend to be evangelists for the music they love – play an important role in introducing us to new music, especially the stuff that algorithms wouldn’t normally recommend. And while HMV is often associated with NOW CDs and big charting artists, it’s also pretty good on specialist titles. Whether it be through chatting to staff or hearing what’s playing via the in-store system, visitors are immersed in an environment of music discovery unreplicated online or anywhere else.

There also seems to be a widespread lack of understanding of the UK’s demand for physical music and the nationwide retail chain’s role in satisfying it. While, according to the ERA, sales of CDs fell 23 percent last year, more people in the UK still buy them (22 percent) than have a streaming subscription (20 percent), and these figures do not account for the significant number of CDs and records sold at gigs, nor the thriving second-hand market.

Moreover, more than 60 percent of sales of the top 20 best sellers in 2018 was of a physical format, exceeding 90 percent for Michael Bublé, Take That, Andrea Bocelli, and Rod Stewart records. Admittedly, these are records that appeal to older audiences perhaps reluctant to the digital age, but HMV, with its market share of approximately 31%, remains — for now, at least — a significant part of our musical ecosystem. Its closure would have severe consequences for labels, distributors, and music consumers across the UK.

I am told by Martin Goldschmidt, CEO of mid-size indie Cooking Vinyl, known for their work with The Prodigy, Marilyn Manson, and The Orb, that they rely on physical sales for 50 percent of their income, and this is not uncommon among labels in their orbit. Smaller independent labels are likely to be around 30 percent digital. Goldschmidt believes the UK punches well above its weight on the world music stage because of the BBC Radio and a strong physical retail sector, led by HMV.

These are the labels that offer up radical, new ideas and provide a platform for the forward-thinking artists who make music a diverse and interesting space full of innovative sounds that bleed into one another, such as Yves Tumour’s borderless and experimental 2018 album Safe in the Hands of Love. And while some specialist genres such as electronic and indie-rock would be insulated from the loss of HMV because sales would be diverted to independent specialist stores, there are others that would likely fade into the dark abyss of public insignificance. Who else is going to sell Americana?

HMV
HMV London Credit: Leon Neal/Getty

For many independent labels, HMV “exclusives,” such as those done recently by Razorlight and Paul Carrack, are additional physical sales on top of regular album sales. Also, where it’s not commercially viable to press fewer than 1,000 copies, which is often, Drew Hill, Managing Director of Proper Music Group, a leading UK record distributor, tells me that the sales HMV secures will often be the tipping point that prevents a label from opting for a digital-only release. Labels would subsequently lose important income and lots of music would go unheard.

The larger labels would suffer, too. Data shows that Warner, Sony, and Universal rely heavily on physical sales for their biggest hits, barring hip-hop which is nigh on exclusive to digital. (91.9 percent of Post Malone’s Beerbongs & Bentleys were digital.) The loss of this income would shrink the industry and reduce their capacity for investing in new acts.

Amazon’s market share would also increase, for CDs, DVDs, and other HMV-stocked goods. Although, astonishingly, in 2016 HMV managed to overtake Amazon in physical music sales (thanks to Christine and the Queens's debut and Adele's album 25), its reestablishment remains precarious as Amazon continues to bulk up.

Currently, the giant's head is turned by Amazon streaming, but it's a matter of time before its focus settles on physical once again. When this happens, the absence of a walk-in all-encompassing entertainment store will represent a giant knife in the heart in what remains of the high street, and Amazon would likely use its leverage to squeeze labels’ already difficult margins.  In turn, these independents would be forced to become even more risk-averse when it comes to supporting new music. The result would be the steady homogenisation of our musical landscape.

It’s likely this is only a hypothetical discussion. It’s understood that only around 15 of the UK’s 128 HMV stores are unprofitable, so it seems logical that a buyer will be found. Nonetheless, doubts over the chain’s future will linger. While physical and digital can co-exist now, as older generations fall away, demand for the former is shrinking. Without important industry change, soon even the sentimentalists won’t argue HMV has a future.

And, more selfishly, when the next niche sub-genre comes along, can I trust Spotify to lead me to it?

Are physical music stores a thing of the past? Or are they the key to expanding our musical horizons? 

We want to hear from you in the comments section below. To join the conversation simply log in to your Telegraph account or register for free here

License this content