"Not sure why, except that it seemed as though it would be fun, but I made a little tiny record store. To give an idea of scale, all the albums are 1cm square." [Via]

Mac McCaughan was in the middle of singing a song at a record store while his wife was struggling to keep their 3-year-old son from tumbling headfirst out of her grasp. This took place yesterday, a little after 1 p.m., during an acoustic set-the sort of thing reliably advertised as "intimate"-which McCaughan was playing with two of his Superchunk bandmates, over at New York's Other Music. (The band's bassist, Laura Ballance, appeared to only have electric gear on this trip, and so was watching this performance from the back wall.) McCaughan's wife and their two children (ages 3 and 7) had been either standing, hoisted or seated on the [...]

Have you ever read one of those pieces that just made you say "ugh" over and over while reading it, even while you agreed with a few of the points within? Sam Machkovech's piece on the current role of the record store gave me that exasperating feeling, thanks to his trotting out a few hoary clichés (record store clerks are snooty!) while making a few decent points (most of which regard the indie-NPR bent of many of this country's remaining record stores).