At the New Yorker, Amanda Petrusich writes an ode to Other Music, a New York City record shop that recently closed its doors after more than twenty years in business. For Petrusich, the store was more than a place to buy music; it was an important part of her personal history:
My scramble for self-identity was tied up in records, and Other Music was where I went to get myself sorted out. What did I like? What did I want? Which section did I want to start flipping through first, and what did that say about me?
