Steve Mintz and Bagatelle Records
FlicFilm Aurora 800 / Midwest Film Company / Zeiss 35mm EF
Some time in the 1990's I bought my first album from Bagatelle Records. It was Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley's soundtrack to the 1971 film, Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory. I still have it, the white album cover beautifully yellowed with time.
Bagatelle was laid out in a long rectangle with the front door off of Atlantic Avenue and the cash register down at the far skinny end. Records lined the walls with the most expensive albums up near the ceiling. In the center were two giant squares full of crates that opened to the left or right hand side. A couple record players with headphones for listening were stacked on top. If there were more than three other people in the place, navigation was tricky.
They didn't sell hi-fi accessories or t-shirts or posters or action figures. Just vinyl, CD's, and cassette tapes. Once, my teenage son picked up a 1961 Columbia mono pressing of Someday My Prince Will Come by Miles Davis. He took it up to the counter and met the owner, Steve Mintz.
"Young man, are you here with your dad?"
"Yeah. He bought me my first record player and albums."
"Keep spending this kind of time with him okay? It's really important."
"I will."
"You know how much people are selling this record for online?"
"No."
"Well, it's a Columbia 'six eye.' They can go for $100. Since you're out here with your dad, for you, it's $20."
I still think about that day. Shopping for records with my boy. Hanging with Steve.
Over the years I brought a lot of friends to Bagatelle: Dan Melnick, Grady McFerrin. I remember a long phone call with Terry Reid while standing outside the shop. As long as you came with an open mind, you'd leave with something amazing.
During one visit, two ladies visiting from Ohio asked Steve if he had any R. Kelly records. He said he probably did but that he'd have to dig for them. They were hidden away.
"I'm gonna find you some R. Kelly but you're gonna have to 'brown bag' them."
I laughed out loud, "You ain't got shit. You ain't got no records for them."
"You wanna put some money on that?"
"Twenty bucks."
After a minute of dry riffling, Steve proceeded to pull out one R. Kelly 12" after another. Each time he slammed one down and stared into my eyes. "Another one motherfucker!"
We all laughed and I took a photo in the dim light. Steve wouldn't take my money. Well, he took it but only in exchange for a stack of albums I found.
Rest In Peace Steve Mintz. You were a great man.
It's time to go record shopping with my son.