Last Chain Standing? The Story of HMV
How HMV came back
from the brink and learned to love vinyl
It is easy to underestimate the role of HMV in facilitating the vinyl
revival. If the chain had not taken decisive action to reverse its catastrophic decision to remove the format from their shops, then vinyl sales
would be considerably below current rates. Not only did they put vinyl back on
the shelves, they embraced it with gusto, giving the format a timely
and much-needed boost.
I had the pleasure of working at HMV Liverpool for eight years during
the mid-1980s. They were some of the best years of my life. To work in an
environment with fellow music enthusiasts, selling to music fans while
listening to new music was my idea of heaven. My previous job had been
manufacturing the flavour for cheese and onion crisps, so it is easy to
understand why I enjoyed working at HMV so much. These were the glory days of
record retailing, when people queued outside the store on a Monday morning to
purchase the new releases. It was also the period when CDs were retailing for
up to £15 each.
Thirty years on, high street rents and rates have rocketed while many
CDs sell for less than £10, so the profit margin on what was once HMV’s core product has been slashed dramatically. At its
peak, the chain had 320 stores spread all over the globe with the majority
being in the UK. HMV is the Last Chain Standing.
Past competitors such as Zavvi, Our Price, Tower, MVC, Music Zone and Andys
have all closed, leaving just HMV and the independent record shops to fly the
flag for those wishing to buy physical music product on the high street. In
2013, HMV went into administration and if they had not been rescued by Hilco,
40% of our record retailers would have been lost in one go.
To understand
both where it all went wrong for HMV and their remarkable comeback, you need to
know the history. The inaugural HMV store in London was opened in London on
July 20, 1921 at 363 Oxford Street, by the composer Sir Edward Elgar. They sold
sheet music, recordings and HMV-brand gramophones, which were available for a
mere £5. At that point, HMV was part of the Gramophone
Company. In 1931, a merger with the Columbia Gramophone Group formed EMI, which
stood for Electric and Musical Industries. The decision to use Nipper the dog as the HMV logo was an early stroke of
marketing genius. The dog, which has become synonymous with the brand, was a
stray fox terrier found on the streets of Bristol in 1884 by Mark Barraud. He
was named Nipper due to his tendency to nip the backs of visitors' legs. After
Mark’s death, his
brother Francis Barraud, the Liverpool artist, took care of the dog. The
picture titled His Master's Voice
was painted in 1899 and showed the dog listening to a cylinder phonograph. William Barry Owen of The Gramophone Company
bought the picture for £50, which proved to be a very shrewd move. In 1901,
the Gramophone Company registered the His
Master’s Voice
Nipper painting as a trademark in
the UK. It was used in advertising by the Gramophone Company and became one of
the world's most recognisable trademarks.
For the next four decades selling recording equipment was the core
business. This all changed during the 1960s, thanks to the huge popularity of
artists such as The Beatles and Elvis Presley. The stores stopped retailing
record players and recording equipment to concentrate on selling singles and
LPs.
I am grateful to a former work
colleague and respected music journalist, Cliff White who wrote a piece for me
(reprinted below), describing his time working at HMV during the Swinging
Sixties. A wonderful man, Cliff,
sadly, passed away in January 2018. As you will see his memories of HMV in a
bygone era are fascinating.
I am happy to offer a few off-the-cuff memories of my
time working at the original HMV record store - 363 Oxford Street, London -
from mid-1964 to some brain-swiped day in early 1968. Once employed there I was ever-ready to
recommend my music preferences to customers but selling the hottest wax was the
name of the game: across the spectrum
service with a smile.
Among those I
served were Vera Lynn, Del Shannon, The Who (in full Union Jack regalia - them,
not me), Jimi Hendrix and Kim Fowley who pranced around the department
shouting, “Freak Out!” Jimi came in to
buy blues and soul records and I insisted he include Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ “The Whammy” amongst his purchases -
which may account for his subsequent career.
During my tenure with HMV it was owned by EMI who
began experimenting with a self-service department and started acquiring other
record shops to convert into suburban and regional HMV outlets. More of which later. When I was first employed it was still the
sole flagship, managed by the rotund figure of Mr Robert (Bob) Boast, who had
reputedly joined the store before the Second World War. All staff were issued with uniform jackets or
blouses and obliged to address each other as Mr., Miss or Mrs.
Song publishers Ardmore & Beechwood occupied the
top floor of the building. This was a
bonus as they’d occasionally offload boxes of American 45s they’d been sent for
review. It was important to get wind of
this bonanza in advance to be first at the trough for the freebies. There were usually obscure soul gems among
the discarded discs.
Adjacent to them, was a small recording studio where
engineer Jim Foy taped Cliff Richard, the Beatles and others recording messages
of gush for their fan clubs. I believe other
artists recorded demos in this little-known hidey-hole. History tells that after the Beatles had been
rejected by Decca it was Jim Foy who recommended Brian Epstein to Ardmore &
Beechwood who then sent him on to George Martin at EMI - so the mop tops’
success was all Jim’s fault, folks.
Cosmopolitan Corner, specialising in what is now
termed “world music”, was tucked away on the mezzanine. Ground floor was the
classical department. “Pop” music
(including folk, jazz, blues, soul, easy listening, etc.) was consigned to the
basement.
It was a lively basement, descended upon each
lunchtime and end of working day by hordes of young persons asking to be played
the latest hits in the open sound booths around the walls. We also had a couple of enclosed listening
rooms for the more “serious” customers, who tended to drop in during the
afternoon lull. Bribing me with a lunch,
The Who’s manager Kit Lambert used one of the listening rooms to promote an
acetate of “I Can’t Explain” to
likely takers. Apparently, he didn’t
have an office at the time.
The stockroom extended under Oxford Street, where in
quiet moments one could lift a hatch in the floor to watch thousands of
cockroaches scuttling from the sudden light, presumably back down to the
Central Line that rumbled below.
Pop sales staff were corralled in a large enclosure in
the middle of the basement, surrounded by a ring of browser boxes full of empty
record sleeves - the 45s had hand-written cardboard inserts. The discs themselves were filed on our side
of the fence, where we also had record playing turntables for all the listening
booths. It was then the store’s policy
to stock at least one copy of every UK record release still in catalogue. As the record companies didn’t delete their
products, particularly LPs, as rapidly as they might cast them aside today, we
were the custodians of an impressive library of vinyl, some items dating back
to, ooh, when I was a lad.
Being under the EMI umbrella, HMV staff were urged to
“bump up” sales figures of EMI releases.
In a shocking exposé I can now reveal that EMI releases were
automatically ranked higher than they should have been on the in-store sales
chart, which was then a key contributor to the national pop chart. As EMI had acquired the Motown franchise from
Oriole and launched its Stateside label this didn’t conflict too much with my
sensitivities.
Every so often we’d get wealthy owners of continental
discotheques swanning in, flashing wads of cash and requesting “the latest two
hundred hip 45s” (or words to that effect).
Oh joy! As a responsible salesman
it was my bound duty to include all the most recent Brit beat group hits but
that still left plenty of room to fill up the box with blues kings, James
Brown, Guy Stevens’ Sue releases, other soul favourites and whatever else I
fancied. In my imagination, somewhere in
France or Spain or Italy or Germany there is now a demented record collector
who was sparked off by something I snuck into a care package to their local
disco.
At the other extreme, another colleague was a big fan
of Cilla Black. He contrived to get an
invitation to meet Cilla backstage at a London theatre, masquerading as a PR
person from EMI’s Manchester Square headquarters, looking after three visiting
delegates from EMI Sweden, aka the HMV store.
As one of those “delegates” I put on my best Swedish accent to chat to
Cilla in her dressing room before nipping along the corridor to say hello to
the stars of the show, the Everly Brothers.
I don’t think I bothered to try to be Scandinavian
with Don & Phil. Have occasionally thought about confronting Miss Black
again and saying “Surprise! Surprise!”
I’m bound to also mention in passing a memorable
colleague who shall remain nameless. A
tall, grey-faced, ravaged-looking individual (with whom I shared a flat for a
time; he wasn’t as scary as he appeared to be), he’d had an unconventional
upbringing and was a clinically diagnosed schizophrenic. This did not affect his salesmanship except in
moments of extreme stress, when the hordes were swarming. He’d then lie on the floor in the middle of
our corral and howl like a rabid dog.
Always guaranteed to grab the customers’ attention. A real crowd pleaser.
In January 66 I left HMV for five months to tour
Germany as lead “singer” (I use the term loosely) with my cousin’s beat combo,
and then to loon about with Screamin' Jay on his second UK tour. That’s an entirely different ramble. In my second stint with the store, now
managed by former assistant manager Ken Whitmarsh, there were grand plans
afoot. Incidentally, Ken, who had
employed me in the first place and remained a friend until his premature death,
was principally a jazz man - a knowledgeable buff - but that didn’t blinker his
retailing acumen. However it did mean
that HMV always had as strong a stock of jazz albums as our specialist
competitors Asman’s, Collet’s, Dobell’s and Ray‘s.
Circa 1966 HMV opened its first self-service
department (where the discs were now in the sleeves in the browser bins) and
bought a shop in the Edgware Road to be run on the same principal. Our in-house prototype, by the main entrance
on the ground floor, was of immediate benefit to a trader who had a record
stall just off Cambridge Circus at the junction of Charing Cross Road and
Shaftesbury Avenue. He’d come in, select
an armful of albums of his choice, and then sprint off with them along Oxford
Street. Our security guard, an elderly
ex-war sergeant with a gammy leg, was thwarted every time. I believe the arrangements were eventually tightened
up.
Being part of the team revamping purchased shops could
be interesting. We’d go in and log all
the existing stock for removal; builders would follow us to convert the
premises into an HMV; we’d go back in to restock the new store. I clearly remember one shop in North London
that had been harbouring a stockroom full of unsold LPs and 45s, piled high in
dusty boxes. I picked the sellotape off
the first box I came to: Jeez, 25 mint
copies of Gene Vincent’s “Be-Bop-A-Lula”. Unfortunately, I was only a poorly paid
salesman otherwise I’d have bought the entire contents of the room. Never did know what happened to all that old
stock, although I suspect a couple of copies of Mr Vincent’s single inadvertently
fell into my knapsack.
Towards the end of my days at HMV I had been promoted
to the dizzy rank of Assistant Manager of the Pop department and was earmarked
to manage one of the growing number of branch stores. At the same time, I had been initiated into
the mysteries of marijuana by a summer-break temping university student and to
LSD by a young temptress in Bayswater.
No contest: I tuned in, turned on
and dropped out.
Cliff White (1945-2018)
HMV went through rapid expansion in the late 1960s and 1970s. Although
the chain faced stiff competition from Richard Branson’s Virgin Records shops, which were
set up in 1971, and the iconic Our Price, which appeared on the scene in 1972,
they became the country’s leading music retailer.
The 1980s were a huge decade for HMV, as they were in
the perfect position to capitalise on the new exciting format of CD. They could
use the power of MTV to promote music via the rapidly expanding video market.
Sales of 12-inch singles were showing dramatic rises as many music fans would
buy multiple copies of the same song on various versions. Cassette singles were
also big sellers.
In 1988, they acquired the 18-shop Midlands chain
Revolver, which increased HMV UK’s stores to 126. HMV believed in promoting from within, so the
key positions in the company were filled by people who had worked their way
through the ranks. The environment was incredibly competitive with store
competing against store, area against area and, at head office, department
against department.
A particular emphasis was placed on league tables.
When I worked at HMV in Liverpool, each Monday we would discuss our position in
the regional table. It was like a
football league. We always wanted to finish above Manchester and were always confident
we could beat the likes of Bolton, Blackburn, Preston and Blackpool. If you
were near the bottom of the league you knew that the area manager would
virtually camp in your store so that he could monitor everything you did to see
how he could improve things. Stores that finished top of the league were
rewarded with prizes such as holidays. These were the golden days for HMV. The
1980s was the decade of “loadsamoney“. People seemed to have money to
burn and the increasing value of property was the main conversation at UK
dinner parties.
HMV thrived during this period, with the CD being a
badge of honour. As the CD buyer for HMV Liverpool at the time, I was
instructed to buy at least one of every CD released by the record companies. It is now hard to believe that from 1985
until 1992, the cassette was the biggest-selling music format in the UK. Its
advantages over vinyl were that it was a small, portable way of listening to
music. The CD offered the same advantages in a vastly superior format, which boasted
greater resilience and higher sound quality than cassettes as well as the
option to skip back and forth between tracks.
With the arrival of CDs, the vinyl format was
abandoned by record companies as music consumers were encouraged to replace
their LP collections. HMV positioned itself at the heart of the CD revolution.
A new flagship store at 150 Oxford Street, which had more than 50,000 square
feet dedicated to customers’
listening
pleasure, was opened by Bob Geldof.
The tragic famine in Africa that prompted such an
admirable response from the international music industry through Band Aid and
Live Aid, energised interest in music, across the board. I had numerous
customers at HMV who bought 10 or more copies of the Band Aid single “Do They
Know it’s Christmas?“
to give away
as Christmas gifts to family and friends. HMV and all record shops gave their
share of the sales of the record to the appeal. As is often the case, it was
the music industry that led the way when it came to helping in a time of need.
The good times continued throughout the 1990s with the
great Blur v Oasis battle and the Spice Girls helping fuel demand for the
physical format. HMV was quick to recognise the potential of the DVD, just as
they had done a decade earlier with CDs, and dedicated a much greater
percentage of the store to promoting the new format than any of its rivals did.
A fundamental change occurred during this period when
HMV began purchasing the majority of its stock via its head office. Central
buying as it was called made economic sense as it gave the company stronger
bargaining power with the record companies, and improved consistency and sales
in most areas. Previously, individual shop managers had a lot of flexibility to
stock titles they wanted, resulting in HMV promoting a lot of local music. Head
Office certainly considered local variations when they scaled product out to
the stores, but stocking local fanzines and small local releases were no longer
a priority.
HMV had profited from selling talking books, and took a major decision
to buy the book chain Waterstones, merging them with Dillons, another
bookseller they already owned. Later, Ottakar’s bookshops were also added to
their portfolio. The timing turned out to be poor and, in hindsight, there was
no practical benefit to the merger with Waterstones. It coincided with a slump
in book sales as Amazon steamed into that market and drove prices down. There
was not enough space in HMV or Waterstones to introduce proper
cross-merchandising, which might have been a good strategic move for the
long-term.
In the early 2000s HMV took the decision to remove vinyl from all but
their largest stores. This opened the door for the independent record shops to
be the gatekeepers of the format. In a strange twist of fate, by abandoning the
format it created a vacuum that the indies were happy to fulfil. It was from
the momentum created by this that the seeds of the vinyl revival were sown.
Suddenly independent record shops had a virtual monopoly on the format. The
decision was taken, not because the chain did not like the format, but for a
purely economic reason. The ratio of sales to stock was very poor compared to
CD. For example, 5 feet of LP racking held around 160-200 titles of vinyl
whereas CD held 400-500.
Vinyl had become a low priority for record companies due to the massive
sales being achieved by CD and DVD. During this period the industry and the
media were all telling us how superior the CD was. Many releases were not
released on vinyl, so if you were a fan the only way you could purchase a lot
of music was on CD. With the extra cost of manufacturing, storage and a higher
return of faulty product, it is easy to understand why the record companies lost
enthusiasm for vinyl and why HMV took the decision to decommission it in all
but their larger shops.
In 2002, the HMV group was floated on the London Stock Exchange. It was
valued at around a billion pounds. Senior staff received shares which turned
out not to be a great investment. It was a critical point in the history of
HMV. The timing was unfortunate insofar as the flotation occurred just before
it became evident how much iTunes and Amazon would impact on the music
retailing business. The requirement to report quarterly to the city on what
became, within months, a downward trend, meant there was a media story about CD
decline which was constantly fed.
This coincided with a change in the broader cultural context.
Traditionally, the business pages in newspapers tended to be dry, boring and
stuck to the facts. But by this point, the business pages were becoming as
sensationalist as the rest of
the papers, and there was more of a narrative spin put on the facts. Lazy
journalism and a desire to reiterate that physical music was dead started to
dominate reporting. Young, rich, city types were not early converts to the
vinyl revival, quite the reverse and there was a uniformity of opinion in the
business pages that digital music was the future.
A major problem created by the floatation was that HMV constantly made
short-term decisions to improve the figures in an effort to satisfy
shareholders and supply the press with good news. In retrospect, a proper
long-term plan with external input, commitment to investment in streaming (the
HMV jukebox was an early subscription model very similar to Spotify which they
gave up on) and investment in HMV.com which was competing with Amazon for a
while, would have made more sense.
HMV had benefited from the demise of other music chains. When the
independently-owned Fopp chain was forced to close in 2007, HMV bought the name
and six of its best performing stores from the receivers: Glasgow, Edinburgh,
Cambridge, Nottingham, Manchester and Covent Garden.
By 2008 music retailing was in big trouble.
Independent record shops were closing at an average rate of one every three
days and things were to get worse. In January Woolworths closed. The high
street retailer employed more than 30,000 people and though music was only a
part of its business, it was a massive blow to the music industry. However,
many former Woolworths music purchasers took their custom to HMV. On Christmas
Eve the Zavvi chain of music shops entered administration, ensuring its staff
had a woeful Christmas. HMV took this opportunity to purchase 20 of their best
performing stores.
Being the last chain standing did have some
advantages. But HMV was also beginning to feel the pinch. There were many
reasons beyond HMV’s control for the decline in sales,
but the key mistake they made was not to plan for the next decade but to keep
concentrating on being the number one entertainment retailer on the high street. HMV had been
a major player in the video market and were in the perfect position when the
DVD took off to replace the videos. By the late 1990s DVDs accounted for
more than 50% of HMV’s business.
There was not much HMV could do about the many illegal
downloading sites that sprang up, but as people were now obtaining music free
of charge, the feeling among the public was that CDs were overpriced. The media
picked up on this, reminding the public that CDs could be manufactured for 50p
but were being sold for £12. Nobody in the music industry
was countering this argument. The content of a CD had to be written, recorded,
produced and then marketed and distributed.
All these things cost money and they were still fantastic value for the
pleasure they gave.
The internet created both challenges and opportunities
for music retailers. At first HMV embraced it, as the first major music
retailer to set up a website. However, instead of aggressively promoting the
website in their stores and on their carrier bags, it was left to limp along
unsupported. HMV were slow out of the blocks when music started being sold
online. Amazon and Play and several other online traders recognised the
potential of this new concept in selling music. The HMV website was always
playing catch up and was never able to attract enough customers away from other
online retailers. The fact that Apple launched iTunes in 2001, but it wasn’t
until 2010 that HMV Digital started up is a measure of just how slow they were.
Like a lot of other companies in the music industry, the powers-that-be at HMV were convinced that digital downloading was
just a passing fad.
The policy of promoting from within was a mistake in
an industry that can change so quickly. With the emergence of Amazon and
digital music, HMV needed fresh people who understood these new competitors and
could enable HMV to compete with them. There was a general feeling within the
company that selling physical music in bricks and mortar stores on high streets
was the cornerstone of the business and that is what they should concentrate
on. The result was that Amazon had a free run at establishing itself as the
website from which to purchase CDs. It was internet and digital that exposed the
flaw in HMV’s policy of internal promotion.
There were no young, dynamic personnel within the company with the vision to
see that in the future, digital and internet sales were going to be a big part
of music retailing. HMV had the opportunity to be one of the biggest players on
the internet, but they did not grasp the nettle and others took advantage.
Events such as the London bombings of 2007 and the
dramatic rise in parking charges in city centres contributed to a sea change in
consumer attitudes. People were less inclined to come into town with all the
associated cost and hassle of getting there when, with the simple click of a
mouse, they could purchase music without leaving the comfort of their armchair.
Things were looking so grim that even Nipper the dog was retired to the old dog’s home. Gromit, the dog from Nick Parks’s Wallace and Gromit replaced Nipper during a
promotional period. The public wondered whether they had seen the last of
Nipper, but the faithful old dog later returned to carry on representing the
chain.
The stock market crash of 2008 was the last thing the
beleaguered chain needed. When times are tough, non-essential items such as CDs
are among the first things that consumers cut back on. HMV began to lose its
identity as it desperately tried to encourage customers to visit the shops. It
had been known to the public as a great record shop - probably the best music
chain in the world - but it now decided it no longer wanted to be the best
music retailer, it wanted to be a one-stop shop for all things entertainment.
The chain stopped stocking vinyl records, just as vinyl sales started to pick
up again. Stocks of music genres such as metal, jazz, folk, blues, country,
world music as well as classic rock back catalogue were greatly reduced to make
way for computer games, books, headphones and clothes. They gave over more
sales space to computer software and hardware, DVDs, Blu-ray discs, MP3 players
and tablet computers.
This all seemed a great idea to the people in head
office, but the message did
not get through to
the public, who still thought of HMV as a music store. Soon the chain was
forced to cut back. If you are selling mobile phones and clothes, you don’t need specialist music knowledge. They started losing
many long-term staff who had become disillusioned with the direction HMV was
taking. These staff members had joined the company because they loved music not
fashion or technology. HMV had always
had a policy of employing music fans to work there. Product knowledge was
deemed fundamentally important. As the chain had expanded there were not enough
people with that expertise for the number of stores they opened.
Opening new shops was the quickest return on investment but created
major overheads and impacted on the quality as they were appointing
increasingly inexperienced staff to management positions while stretching the
resources of regional and divisional management too far.
It is fair to say that the exceptional customer service HMV offered did
contribute to standards rising through the whole of music retail. One of the
reasons for the decline of indies was the standard of service in many shops.
HMV identified merchandising and service as priorities back in the 1980s and
really went for it (sometimes to an extreme). The revival of independent record
shops has seen a growth not just in vinyl but in standards of presentation and
communication.
Many music fans abandoned the chain and turned to
independent record shops or the internet to purchase the genres HMV had chosen
no longer to stock. Other retailers sold clothes and computer games far more
cheaply. Independent record shops were the place to go if you wanted advice on
records, and especially to buy vinyl - the format HMV had virtually given up
on.
In 2006 Simon Fox was appointed CEO of HMV. He launched a radical
three-year plan to turn around the company’s fortunes. The aim was to engage
with the customer more. In a blaze of publicity, HMV launched the “Get Closer”
social network. The idea was that
fans would discover content through the site and buy more music. Thus It
allowed users to import music and film files and create their own library. They
were then linked to other users with similar tastes. Once again the message did not seem to get through to
staff or the public. Surprisingly, they did not take the opportunity to
advertise the scheme on their carrier bags and promote it at every opportunity
and the idea failed to catch on. The site was popular with the people that were
using it but there were not enough of them. Reluctantly, HMV closed the site in
2009.
At this point, the cash reserves HMV had at the beginning of the decade
were no longer there. It was more important than ever to prioritise where they
were going to spend their money. They had invested heavily in “purehmv”, a loyalty card scheme where members paid £3 to join. More than 2 million people had signed up
and these members collected points every time they shopped either online or in
the shops. Points could be exchanged for money-can’t-buy rewards such as tickets to gigs, film
screenings, VIP experiences and signed items. They could also be exchanged for
digital tracks. These experiences included opportunities to meet bands
backstage or at sound checks before gigs.
The most famous event was probably an exclusive preview screening of the
Take That DVD The Circus Live at the
Hammersmith Apollo. The band was in attendance and the event was free to purehmv members.
HMV borrowed extensively to purchase MAMA’s live venue business at a cost of £46 million. It was a long-term investment as MAMA ran
thirteen music venues including the Hammersmith Apollo, the Forum, the Jazz
Cafe and the Borderline. The idea was sound, as HMV had become one of the UK’s largest ticket sellers. It also started a joint venture
with Curzon Artificial Eye to bring cinemas to the high street. The first trial
store was in Wimbledon, south west London. The cinema was located above the
store in a former stock room that had been converted into three separate
screens and a bar. It had its own entrance so it could be accessed outside
store hours. In the short term, it had swallowed up more money and was
beginning to make the banks jittery.
The company had lots of great ideas and in order to
implement them, investment was more important than ever. Christmas 2010 was the
crunch moment. Already under extreme pressure from their banks to reduce
borrowing, HMV needed good Christmas sales to relieve the pressure and ease
their cash flow situation. Unfortunately, it was a disaster for all high-street
retailers. Appalling weather conditions kept many shoppers at home. Shopping
Centres such as Brent Cross were closed completely.
HMV’s profits were down by £6 million on the six-week run up to Christmas 2010.
HMV would normally do 45% of their annual sales during this period, which would
usually generate 65% of HMV’s profits. January 2011 got off to
a bad start as VAT was increased to 20%, which had a negative effect on trade.
The media vultures were circling, speculating who would be the first high
street retailer to close. It was clear they had HMV down as the next victim,
drawing unfair parallels with Woolworths.
Soon, four profit warnings were issued. These are
statements issued by a company advising the stock market that profits will be
lower than expected. This triggered more negative publicity from the press, who
were already giving them a hard time. Every bit of bad news was seized on by
the media, who would start articles with the phrase “Troubled music retailer
HMV”. Any good news was virtually ignored. The company had still managed to
post a £30 million profit despite its troubles. But the negative publicity was
sufficient to make people uneasy about using the stores.
In May 2011, HMV sold Waterstones to Russian
billionaire Alexander Mamut to reduce debt. The following month they agreed new
credit facilities with the Lloyds Banking Group and Royal Bank of Scotland.
With a £240 million loan, it was going to take a monumental
effort to turn the chain around. Other assets soon followed as in 2012 they
sold the Hammersmith Apollo to AEG Live, the concert promoter, and Eventim, the
ticket agency. Later in the year they sold the remainder of the MAMA group to
Lloyds Development Capital.
HMV was still much loved by the music industry, which supported the
changes. The chain’s long-term vision
made sense, but it needed the support of the British public more than ever.
Unfortunately, it was too late. HMV had too many stores, and they were now in a
position where, due to the high overheads of prime high street locations and
staff wages, they were no longer competing with the online retailers on price,
could not offer the personal service of independent record shops and were
missing out on the beginning of the vinyl revival as they were excluded from
Record Store Day. HMV no longer had anything much to offer music fans.
In January 2013 HMV announced that it was going into administration. It
would continue to trade whilst they tried to find a purchaser for the business.
HMV's shares were suspended from trading while financial firm Deloitte was
appointed to administrate the chain's 239 stores. The chain was bought out of receivership by Hilco who
have turned out to be true knights in shining armour. They restructured the
company by keeping 141 of the 239 stores as well as the nine Fopp shops, saving
more than 2,500 jobs. Rents were renegotiated with landlords and trading terms
improved with suppliers. At the time of going into receivership HMV accounted
for more than 20% of physical music sales, which is why the music industry did
all it could to get the chain up and running again. Helped along by the
industry itself, some amazing offers appeared in the shops to encourage people
back in. Hilco recognised that it had been a mistake to pull away from vinyl
and embraced it with gusto. Soon the shops had new racking installed and were
bulging with vinyl bargains.
HMV had lobbied the Entertainment Retail Association to be part of
Record Store Day. The Entertainment Retail Association balloted their members
on whether the chain should be allowed to take part. This was akin to asking
foxes if they wanted to bring back hunting. Most Entertainment Retail
Association members are record shops. With many releases on Record Store Day
only being pressed in quantities of 500–2,000 copies, why would any record shop vote for a
major chain to come in and take half the cake away? The
decision of the ERA ballot was a resounding “No”.
HMV therefore founded their own version of Record Store Day, which has
been highly successful. They offered big discounts on vinyl they already
stocked. The limited-edition vinyl exclusives were available in all stores and
online on a
first-come-first-served basis. These were the exclusive titles:
Sex Pistols: Never Mind the Bollocks (1000 copies on pink vinyl)
Manic Street Preachers: Everything Must Go (1000 copies on blue vinyl)
Various Artists: Let's
Bop – Sun Records Collection (1000 copies on black vinyl)
Teenage Fanclub: Bandwagonesque (500 numbered copies on pink vinyl)
The Clash: The Clash (1000 copies on green vinyl)
Velvet Underground: Loaded (1000 copies on white vinyl)
Deep Purple: In Rock (1000 copies on marbled vinyl)
Alex Turner: Submarine
OST (500 copies
on 10-inch black vinyl)
Ben Salisbury & Geoff
Barrow: Ex Machina OST (500 copies on frosted vinyl)
John Martyn: Solid Air (500 copies on green vinyl).
IniJanuary 2015, the company overtook Amazon to become the largest
retailer of physical music in the UK.
I feel that HMV should be more loved than it is. The
pleasure it has given us music fans for more than 90 years is such that it
should be held in the same regard as HP sauce, Heinz baked beans, Marks &
Spencer or the Mini Cooper. We should cherish the brand and recognise the joy
it has brought to millions of music fans.
On 28
December 2018 HMV filed for administration for a second time following poor
sales on the lead up to Christmas. For its 2200 staff in the chains125 stores it
was the worst possible news.
Hilco
immediately appointed KPMG as administrators.
2018
witnessed sales of DVD falling off a cliff and Executive Chairman Paul McGowan issued
the following statement
‘During
the key Christmas trading period the market for DVD fell by over 30% compared
to the previous year and, whilst HMV performed considerably better than that,
such a deterioration in a key sector of the market is unsustainable.
HMV has
clearly not been insulated from the general malaise of the UK High Street and
has suffered the same challenges with Business Rates and other
government-centric policies which have led to increased fixed costs in the
business.
Business
Rates alone represent an annual cost to HMV in excess of £15m. Even an
exceptionally well-run and much-loved business such as HMV cannot withstand the
tsunami of challenges facing UK retailers over the last 12 months on top of such a dramatic change in consumer behavior
in the entertainment market.’
HMV had been the retailer to go to for DVD but
streaming sites such as Netflix had eaten in to their market. It would be a
disaster for the music industry if HMV were to close as I fear the record
industry would feel less inclined to support physical product that in turn
would have a negative impact on independent record shops. Let’s hope they
survive.,
Luckily a night in shining armour Doug Putman, who describes himself as a vinyl nut saved the chain and the last couple of years thw chain made a remarkable recovery. 2020 of course has seen a big challenge for all retailers not just for HMV.
Show HMV some love and buy something from them this Christmas.
It is even more important why we need to support
independent record shops and it is crucial that government needs to review the
support it gives to bricks and mortar retailers.
The books of Graham Jones are
available in record shops or online. The
latest book The Vinyl Revival and the Shops that Made it Happen has been turned
in to a film. It has
just been released on DVD and is available in record shops or online.
Distributed by Proper Music.
Each week I record The Vinyl Revival
Record Shop Podcast. It contains lots of funny tales
from the crazy world of record retailing. It is also available on Spotify.
Twitter: @Revival_Vinyl
My blog has over 100 features on
record shops and vinyl.
grahamjonesvinylrevival.blogspot.com
For film screenings and talks
contact Graham.
As the person who has visited more record shops than any other human, I often
get asked my advice on buying turntables. I always say do not purchase a budget
model. What is the point of buying one that costs the price of a few
albums? The sound will not do the recordings justice. For a long time, I have
recommended Rega Turntables as they are superb quality
at great prices. They got more brownie points for sponsoring 'Record Store
Day' and manufacturing limited editions just for record shops.
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