THERE used to be a record shop in every high street. In the days before downloads and iPods, it took a real effort to get hold of music and, as a result, people cherished it.

Now the industry lies in tatters, with record shops closing by the day.

Graham Jones, originally from Anfield, has written a gem of a book about those old record shops.

He’s well qualified to write on the subject – after running his own music stall at Ellesmere Port market and selling vinyl fruit bowls made from Beatles LPs melted into shape under a grill, he worked at HMV Liverpool.

He then travelled the country selling records, tapes and CDs to independent record stores, collecting a wealth of entertaining stories.

Along the way, he also managed cult Liverpool band, The Cherry Boys.

“I spent over 20 years selling to record shops,” explains Graham. “But they started closing at an alarming rate, causing much distress to the owners. Many were family businesses and I found it distressing that nobody seemed to care.

“If you speak with any elderly relative, they’ll tell you about when they were children that the high street had stamp shops, coin shops and candlestick makers. Who remembers them now?

“I felt somebody should document the story of record shops before they vanish.”

Even as a child, Graham was a regular in Merseyside’s independent record shops.

“My favourite shop was Skeleton, in Birkenhead. It was dark and dingy, but had a great atmosphere,” he says.

“Growing up, I’d be at record shops at 9am in the school holidays to buy my favourite artists’ new releases. It still happens now,” he says ruefully. “But youngsters are queuing for the latest Wii game.

“I was very fond of Penny Lane Records, in Bold Street. With rates being so dear, they moved out to Penny Lane. How could a business like that fail, as lots of Japanese tourists would call in? But it did.

“The first shop I bought a record from was Rox Records, in Birkenhead. I’d like to say it was something like The Beatles, but unfortunately it was The Monster Mash, by Bobby Pickett and the Crypt Kickers .

“Probe Records was always close to my heart as they distributed the first couple of Cherry Boys singles.

“I was at school with Pete Burns, from Dead or Alive, who worked there.”

And, Graham adds, with a mischievous twinkle: “I’ve read some interviews with him over the last few years and it seems that when we were both in the same class I must have been 15 and he must have been nine.”

Graham fell into record selling almost by accident. His football dreams had gone by the wayside after Tranmere released him from their youth team. A job at Bromborough Paints and Building Supplies followed, and then a stint at Unilever, making cheese and onion crisp flavouring.

“No matter how much I showered and scrubbed and sprayed cologne, I could never rid myself of that cheesy smell,” he laughs.

So a drastic rethink was needed. It came in the shape of 1,000 old jukebox singles bought from a newspaper small ad.

“This was my chance to be Richard Branson and start up my own business,” laughs Graham. “I called the seller and he told me the singles included The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and The Doors. It sounded like a real bargain.”

Sadly, it was too good to be true – the decent records were scratched and there were multiple copies of obscure singles – 25 by Suzi Quattro and 37 copies of Juke Box Jive, by The Rubettes.

“I had no option other than to make the best of a bad job and set off to Ellesmere Port market,” he says.

Graham eventually sold his records, and moved on to a job at HMV, in Liverpool.

“Working at the factory, I’d spent my life wishing it away. Working at HMV didn’t feel like a proper job. Each morning I couldn’t wait to start – no more clock watching for me. I enjoyed every second of it.

“This was in the days when CDs had just come out. I lost count of the number of customers who brought back CDs because they couldn’t play them on their record player.”

One day a man came to the till whom Graham vaguely recognised.

“I convinced myself he was somebody I’d played football against, and asked if he was playing that night,” explains Graham.

“He said yes he was. ‘Is it under floodlights,’ I asked. ‘No, at the Royal Court,’ he replied.

“It was only when I looked at his credit card that the penny dropped. It was Declan McManus – Elvis Costello.”

It was during his time at HMV that Graham made the leap into band management.

“One day I noticed an advert in the Liverpool Echo. It read ‘Liverpool rock band requires manager’. Immediately, I recognised an opportunity to make further inroads into the music industry.”

The job wasn’t quite what Graham expected.

At their first gig at The Dolphin pub, they charged 25p entry.

“The entry fee had put off the good people of Liverpool,” he laughs. “The audience consisted of just 12 people.”

But, over the years that followed, Graham helped the band enjoy some great successes, including sessions on the John Peel show, partly helped by their gimmick of throwing bags of uncooked rice – and even sending them in the post.

“When the Cherry Boys session aired on Radio 1, John Peel told the story of how he had received the band’s cassette in a bag of rice, which was what had attracted his attention,” says Graham.

“Later, John told me that doubtless it was that story which inspired another band to send him a cassette enclosed in a plastic bag inside a prawn curry, which, almost inevitably, spilt all over his trousers when he opened the package.”

Janice Long championed their song, Kardomah Cafe, and they played on Round Table, but, despite their successes, the Cherry Boys went their separate ways.

“Although, through my work, I listen to around 15 new CDs a fortnight, Kardomah Cafe is still my favourite song,” says Graham.

He now lives in Wiltshire with his son, Ben. There he founded Proper Music, the largest independently owned music distributor in the UK. But his heart remains in Merseyside – along with the origins of his beloved vinyl collection.

“Every CD or vinyl record I own evokes a memory,” he explains. “A download you can't see or feel or hold. I am very biased towards bands from my home city – from The Beatles to The Zutons.”

And he’s hoping that the book might just prompt a Cherry Boys revival.

“With Liverpool being the City of Culture, we were asked if we would reform the Cherry Boys for one last gig,” he says, adding ruefully. “For one reason or another it did not happen, but maybe the book will inspire them. I’d love to see that.”

LAST Shop Standing, by Graham Jones, is available from April 6 from News From Nowhere, The Musical Box in West Derby, HMV, Waterstones and Merseyshop.com

jadewright