This is the place where you will walk out with some records purged from the personal collection of some top-tier post punker, or recently unearthed dead stock of countless soul fusion lost classics. Everything here is a score due to its location in close proximity to the aging art elite—this is their dumping ground. For jazz, soul, and funk, the racks are your bible. For everything left-of-center, this is where you mine the real finds. Thumbing through the store’s singles boxes, you can relate to the prospector striking gold in the bed of a ripe but unsifted river.