Joe Theobald, aka DJ Captain Wormhole, Looks at all things vinyl 

LAST weekend I took a trip to London to visit my mate Iancu.

As is customary when venturing beyond the boundaries of the SN postcode area I preceded the trip by Googling ‘record stores *destination*’. I had some good ones lined up (Zen in Seven Sisters and Soul Brother in East Putney) when the trusty GF pointed out via FB that there was a record fair in town.

To record store or record fair? After mulling over the question for a day or two I decided the fair would make for a more interesting edition of Wormhole’s world.

Excitement ascended from my toes up to my nose as I handed over a fiver to the man in the Nine Inch Nails hoodie, affording me access to the event which was billed as the biggest vinyl record fair in the UK.

Thousands of bearded men, illuminated by the glorious sunlight beaming through the grand glass canopy of Westminster’s Royal Horticultural Halls, ambled among millions of records.

When attending a record fair you must resist the urge to get stuck in right away. Spend 10 minutes scouting out the stalls. You don’t want to spend the day lost in Roger Dean’s Yes LP cover art when electro 12s were the primary objective.

Once you’ve located the richest hunting grounds it’s advisable to hang back and size up the dealer. Work out if he’s having a good day or not - if he looks miserable then deals are to be done and you can negotiate hard, he needs to recuperate his stall fees.

Unfortunately my chosen dealer was having a grand day.

Steve clearly had the best stock of disco and boogie, but he also had an interesting sales technique where he refused to sell me anything.

Each record I pulled out was ‘too expensive to sell here’ or ‘too good to let go’. I persevered and left with a Soul Makossa LP and some disco 12s.

A last-minute long-sought bargain seven on the way out took the edge off, but next time I think I’ll just stick to fixed retail sites.

Next week: Another amazing interview.