Whenever I write about record stores I feel like I’m weaving some sort of fantastical bedtime story. “A long time ago, there were these places that were filled with albums. Aisle after aisle, loosely organized by genre. We’d congregate in these monuments to music, and spend hours going through albums, and talking about bands. Sometimes, an artist would even show up to do an in-store signing.”

When described in that way, they do kinda sound like magical places. Maybe that’s because for some of us they were.

Those are bygone times, however, and while the internet may have provided us with speedy access to everything, no download or streaming service will ever be able to replicate the feelings we had going to our favorite record stores.

While the mom and pop shops — those owned by local community members and known throughout that community — were great for a whole host of reasons, the national chains give us a common ground on which we can all relate. These are the record stores we all went to. Here are five we wish still existed.

Tower Records

Tower’s red lettering on a yellow background will always be iconic, and, as a store, they usually had the best sale prices on CDs.

THE place to be on a Tuesday, which used to be the day when new albums were released, Tower routinely had midnight openings for big album releases, and lines would form around the store of people wanting to be the first to hear the latest from their favorite artist.

Tower also had their own free magazine, named Pulse! I’m not sure why they felt the need for the exclamation point. If my pulse had an exclamation point I’d think that would indicate some sort of heart issue.

FYI, there’s an award winning documentary on the rise and fall of Tower Records that is well worth watching.

Sam Goody

At one point in my life I lived within 20 minutes of three different Sam Goody stores. If one didn’t have a specific album, another one might. Sure, in today’s age of downloading that may seem like quite the wild goose chase for a CD, but there was something special about going on a hunt for a desired release. Also, the thrill of victory when you finally found the CD was a feeling no download will ever be able to replicate.

Oh, and you know I signed up for their Replay membership, as there were special members-only sales, and membership included Sam Goody’s in-store publication, Request.

Virgin Megastore

An entire era of pop music can be defined by TRL happening right across the street from the Virgin Megastore in Times Square. In the span of an hour, throngs of screaming teenagers would go from holding up signs for their favorite artists, to buying those artists’ albums. Sometimes, an artist would even go from appearing on TRL, to having an in-store autograph session.

Personally, I have fond memories of the Virgin Megastore in Union Square. Not only did an artist friend of mine work there and score himself an in-store performance, but I also found a Japanese import of an Ace of Base CD in one of their $5 discount bins!

Coconuts

How does LeAnn Rimes live ...  without a Coconuts?

My town once had a Strawberries that became a Coconuts, or was it a Coconuts that became a Strawberries? It was a long time ago, so I’m really not sure which tasty food-based title the record store ended up going by at the time of its demise, but both were under the Trans World Entertainment umbrella. What made Coconuts unique, at least in my area, was that whenever a band was coming to town, it was THE spot to get tickets to the show. Yes, these were the pre-Live Nation glory days!

Coconuts stores also had some pretty impressive in-store appearances. Check out the image below of what seems to be a Macarena tutorial. Some of us could have used something similar when the whole whip-nae nae thing was going on.

The Wall

The Wall had one thing no other store had, and it might have been the cause of the chain’s eventual demise — The Wall lifetime music guarantee. As long as you had a Wall sticker on your CD, or cassette, The Wall would replace it if anything ever went wrong.

When looking for albums at used CD stores, finding one with a Wall sticker on it was like finding gold. It didn’t matter if the CD worked or not, you’d just bring it into The Wall, and they’d give you a new copy of the album.

During the store’s waning years I heard stories of Wall employees going home with entire rolls of those stickers.