Randall takes us to one of his favorite local spots in Columbia, Missouri.

College town record shops rule, and for a pretty specific reason: a polyglot clientele with constant turnover means a lot of vinyl coming in. Professors, scholars and researchers collect music like the rest of us, and when they jump from one tenured appointment or grad school to the next, they stand a chance of unloading their ECM, SST and CTI records and discs rather than move them.

Some of the great US shops, in fact, located themselves near major universities for that very reason. Other Music was quick walk from Columbia University; the first Amoeba was near UC-Berkeley. For years, Rhino Records was the go-to spot for UCLA students. Waterloo in Austin. Newbury Comics in Boston. Used Kids in Columbus. Wuxtry in Athens, Georgia.

Hitt Records is in the midsized liberal oasis of Columbia, Missouri, home to the University of Missouri. Located halfway between Kansas City and St. Louis and with a population of about 125,000, Columbia’s not on any major touring routes because it lacks the bodies to fill midsized clubs. But it’s got a big enough customer base to support the rad two-story shop, which recently celebrated its 11th anniversary.

The day after we moved to Columbia from Los Angeles last year, I hit Hitt. Owned by Taylor Bacon and Kyle Cook, it’s located on Hitt Street in a century-old former bottling plant that also contains the Ragtag Cinema art house and Uprise Bakery, a bar-cafe-bakery. Within a few days, they’d offered me directions to Gene Clark’s grave; explained their policy of always stocking Bitchin’ Bajas releases (Cooper Crain’s a Hitt Rex alum); and connected with me over a mutual affection for Permanent Records’ Lance Barresi (also a Columbia expat). Within a few weeks in an Instagram post, I’d called Hitt “my new best friends.” It was a one-sided declaration, though (without being insufferable) I’ve worked ever since to integrate myself into the tight-knit music community.

They’ve sold me releases from the local label Profane Illuminations, which has issued tapes and records by Patrick Shiroishi and Luke Stewart, guitarist Loren Connors and Scott Tuma (Souled American), and, most recently, [five lines indecipherable], a remarkable improv session by Shiroishi, Alex Cunningham, Jessica Ackerley, and Damon Smith. They’ve enticed me with a well-curated selection of vintage audio gear, and are currently in possession of a Pioneer SA-9900 amplifier that I’m on the verge of committing to.

All around, their vinyl selection is shockingly deep.

But, in retrospect, that shouldn’t be shocking. You’d have to drive 120 miles in any direction before you’d find a better place to sell your records, and the competition for used collections, while still serious, is hardly as heated as in Los Angeles, New York, or Chicago. Estate sales offer ample opportunity to gather analog components, which they buy and refurbish through middlemen.

Coming from Los Angeles, which has such a bounty of shops that the community is not only 100 times bigger and but equally diffuse, having Hitt as a hub came as a relief. It’s the kind of clean, well-lighted neighborhood place that offers comfort and sustenance when you’re feeling antsy, are craving a dig, or just want to be around like-minded strangers. Like book stores, clubs, churches, restaurants — and, of course, listening bars like ISC NYC and pop-ups such as our In Sheep’s Clothing seasonal market — record stores are magnets for kindred spirits. And when you’re in a spot that’s a littler dot on the map in so-called flyover country, they can be a goddamn cultural lifeline.

Kyle, who splits his time between LA and Columbia, once told me that they decided to stay open later on Friday and Saturday because as a teen he used to road trip to Vintage Vinyl in St. Louis (my record store alma mater) on weekends to shop at night. He wanted to ensure that Hitt offered a similar space for other music-curious kids. It’s not just newbies, though, for adults, good shops reward routine visits.

In the past few months they’ve displayed such used gems such as Susumu Yokota’s Sakura, Opal’s Happy Nightmare, Baby, and Bennie Maupin’s The Jewel in the Lotus, and recently acquired a dense collection of essential reggae and dub records from the long-shuttered local shop Whizz Records. With a metal section curated by Consequence of Sound writer-editor Jon Hadusek and an upstairs devoted to folk, classical, and random rows of cut-rate deals, their supply offers countless avenues of exploration.

Since moving here, I’ve also started using Hitt to secure new releases and reissues. Not only do they tap distributors who stock everything you’d need, it’s less of a hassle than ordering direct, you don’t pay for shipping and it’s more ethical than giving Jeff Bezos more power. Might it cost a buck more? Sure, but I think of it as the Hitt Tax: My money’s being reinvested into the community — or, if nothing else, lining two guys’ pockets whose lives have revolved around Hitt and successfully enriching the community for more than a decade.

Hitt Records
10 Hitt St.
Columbia, MO

Here’s their Discogs page.