Enterprise Records

Portland, Maine’s Old Port in the summer – there’s no place like it. The crowds, the stores, and the ferries bumping against the piers for vacationers, tourists, and residents to pile on and off of as music drifts from the many bars, pubs, and restaurants that line the cobblestone streets. The Old Port is a seafood lover’s dream as well, but if you’d prefer steak, Italian, or a quiet drink on a deck overlooking the water, you’ll find that too. And, if you’re in the mood for vinyl records, you can take a short five-minute walk down Congress Street to Coast City Comics, take a left, and you’ll see a small black disc above a door – the universal sign of a record store. In this case, it’s not just any old record store – this is Enterprise Records, and it’s been a part of Portland’s Old Port since 1987. 

That’s going on four decades, folks.

For music lovers, and especially those who love records, Enterprise is the only place to go. The store isn’t large, nor does it need to be. What’s important is the owner, Bob, is there ready to help you find what you’re looking for. “I touch peoples’ lives with what I do,” he says. And it’s true. During the pandemic, which practically shut the world down for over two years, Enterprise Records has remained “a reliable source of comfort”.

The thing is, Bob has seen it all. He’s also been through other supposed “Vinyl Revivals”, which, in his words, “flamed out”. Whether this time is any different, as vinyl sales have steeply climbed over the last few years, remains to be seen. But ask Bob, and for him, it all goes back to the format, “The basis of it — let’s call it ‘sound quality’, is solid, but with more records being pressed and more titles in print than at any time since the 80s, the real weight behind this resurgence is commercial.”

And he’s not wrong. Images of records, turntables, and cover art surround us. It may be different this time because of the power of social media and its reach into the lives of young people who weren’t around when vinyl was king. Bob puts it perfectly, “There’s the insidious and ultimate sacrilege of some of the great music itself, from the heyday of records, being co-opted as flimsy sales props.”

“Don’t believe the hype,” he adds.

One gets the clear sense Bob serves a higher cause. It’s not about “sales props” or fads or even the desire to own one’s own music. It’s about connecting to the music and its history, especially if it is deeply personal. Bob tells one story about a library of records he purchased from the widow of a man who had passed. After agreeing on the price, Bob packed the records in boxes for transportation. It became apparent that the collector’s wife had no attachment to the records nor understood her late husband’s attachment to them. She was happy to get rid of them for a few dollars.

It’s a heartbreaking story as a collector, especially when one considers what may one day become of their own collection when they are gone. I can only hope, if it leaves my family at some point down the road, it lands in the hands of someone like Bob, who will be sure to find them a new home.