Plugd Records
Posted on 20th Dec 09 by Mike McGrath Bryan | 
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One of the hardest parts of writing regularly is when you see the sequence of words you type before you and still don’t want to accept it. That unreal feeling that you don’t want to believe what you’re writing about is something anyone in this line has to deal with, but doesn’t make the medicine [...]
One of the hardest parts of writing regularly is when you see the sequence of words you type before you and still don’t want to accept it. That unreal feeling that you don’t want to believe what you’re writing about is something anyone in this line has to deal with, but doesn’t make the medicine any less bitter.
Plugd Records
The news earlier this month that Cork’s PLUGD Records is closing for good at some juncture “after Christmas and before New Year” has been met with horrible disappointment by the Cork scene and beyond.
One of the best record stores in the country, PLUGD Records, run by Jim Horgan and Albert Twomey, specialised in a eclectic mix of genres, from hardcore punk to house, but also, more crucially, was the city’s only real outlet for vinyl, not to mention a place where local artists could make their recorded presence felt. Not only that, but it was the epicentre of the Cork scene up until now: the walls are, as I type, still covered ceiling-to-floor with posters of upcoming shows.
But more than a shop with cool vinyl and comprehensive postering: it was a place to meet, to drop in and have a natter, with Al, or with just about anyone else who happened to be in, browsing, or, indeed, building up a pile of records to haul away. Many people will tell you of mornings and afternoons spent killing time perusing the record racks for that obscure gem, or the latest slice of unexpected audio liberation. Many teenage upstarts, new arrivals in town and musicians were all proud to call the place home.
My own story is a simple one, and likely the same as many souls: in my Leaving Cert year, a few years back, the crushing ennui of rural/backcountry life was getting just about unbearable. No gigs, no scene, tiny mentality and maximum waster penetration. And my sole break from school, scumbags seeking easy targets and working at a god-forsaken carwash was the occasional opportunity to escape up to town and blow my barely-gotten gains on sweet, sweet music. All the names I’d read about in magazines, I’d go out and pursue the only way a wayward teen can. Having discovered Nirvana at a family barbecue, I immediately realised that the music my parents and peers were listening to was irrelevant, stale and poisonous. This was what I’d lacked. I went to all the shops in town. Vibes and Scribes, another great record repository all but dead in the water, was where I found My Vitriol, Ash and Monster Magnet. Soundgarden, Therapy?, Bad Brains. The list goes on. Back through the chain of influences. Black Flag, Minor Threat, Husker Du. Black Sabbath, Budgie, Mercyful Fate. Lee Perry and his mighty Upsetters. Each a slice of freedom, each capturing my imagination.
One of the first ever records I bought (which points to my age) was Giveamanakick‘s first album, Is It OK To Be Loud, Jesus?, on the upstart Out on a Limb Records. I had no idea that the mythical underground of DIY labels, gig-swapping and freedom I’d read about in Kerrang! and various other articles (before I’d discovered Our Band Could Be Your Life) extended out here. Holding a CD bearing the face of an old lady and bearing such titles as Ger Canning and Darko Filiopovic was like holding a shard of some weird, unknown entity. And I loved every single second of that album, as I still do. It was with no small amount of bittersweetness that I was able to tell Steve and Keith of this on the Cork stop of their final ever tour, which, as I type, brings their existence to a close. The man who helped this album see the light of day? PLUGD’s Al Twomey. Maybe it’s an era ending, I dunno.
In a town that has seen the demise of most other music outlets, and whose venue situation is very much in question for underground bands at present, losing the figurative crossroads at which everyone met is a potential deathblow. I don’t see HMV in Cork accomodating local artists that aren’t willing to share shelf-space with tons of redundant pop stock, personally. This is another example of the fate of the record store: downloading, burning, etc. has taken its toll, not just on the majors that crib for the loss of their annual cash-cows, but on independents that depend on small, hardcore followings.
How many scene kids do you know that have entire, detailed discographies of their favourite bands on their iPods? Or, just as bad, the one over-played, shitty little MP3 file? Is this what it’s come to?
I used to think that the decline of music sales was a phenomenon restricted to the devils that have slowly choked their own business out by recycling the same ideas and deriving from others. Multi-nationals that had driven a mind-numbed public to help regurgitate those same ideas. Home taping didn’t kill music. Taping off of the radio didn’t kill music. We’ll be fine. This’ll shimmy away into the corners when the next format comes into play. But it hasn’t gone away, has it? How many people have downloaded an album via torrent, because they couldn’t wait to find it physically, only to not bother after, for any number of excuses? Let’s all be honest with ourselves. And we’re seeing the effect of every little slip, and every little excuse. Well, it’s getting too late to find a last-minute fix. No matter how hard Eircom chokes The Pirate Bay, no matter how many legal letters are sent out to 12-year-olds.
ROAD Records, the well-documented miracle of independent music retail in Ireland, got its happy ending due to the sheer population in the city centre of Dublin that makes any specialist venture viable. Sure, they were on the brink, but at least they had the capacity to rally the troops before it was too late. PLUGD won’t be so lucky. It’s too late, and anything we can do would be too little. On a personal note, I wish to thank Al and Jim for everything they have done to facilitate the growth of our scene, feeding our heads and keeping us chatting. 
But it seems to be a common event now, given our times. So what about those left behind? What about us, away from the centre of the industry, distribution? What about us, when we can’t (or won’t!) leave our home (or adoptive) scenes? How will we make the statement, foster the scene, lecture the kids, find the magic?
What will become of the generations that follow, unable already to comprehend being ghosted away, to that magical place, from life, and hurt, and pain by three chords and the truth, or tales of indulgence and fantasies?
What are we going to do now?
Tags: Albert Twomey, ash, Bad Brains, Black Flag, Budgie, Eircom, giveamanakick, Husker Du. Black Sabbath, Jim Horgan, Mercyful Fate. Lee Perry, Minor Threat, Monster Magnet, My Vitriol, Out on a Limb Records, PLUGD Records, road records, Soundgarden, The Pirate Bay, therapy?, Vibes and Scribes
Great article.
its really sad that its closing.
[...] a comment » Mike McGrath-Bryan was choked to hear of the news that Cork’s favourite music haunt Plugd Records was soon to close. Over on Drop-d he shares [...]
Nice article.
Still can’t get over the fact that it’s closed. Just weird..
great article yeah the whole downloading has killed the whole social aspect of it