The writer Henry Wadsworth Longfellow once wrote that “Music is the universal language of mankind.” And, across the Sudbury landscape, with its vast and varied immigrant population, bringing with them a myriad of different languages, the universal language of music was one aspect of life that has transcended the barriers between cultures.
Over the years many businesses appeared (and disappeared) catering to the differing musical interests of the people of Sudbury. Today, let us take a look back and trace the ups and downs of the business of music within our city. Whether you’re interested in playing an instrument or dropping the needle on your favourite vinyl, we’ve got something here for you.
When the first settlers arrived in the area that would eventually grow into the City of Greater Sudbury, they brought with them their instruments (usually violins, accordions and pianos) and their songbooks. However, as businesses began to arrive, many residents turned to their local general store to import new instruments or the latest collection of piano tunes and popular music lyrics.
Since, in these pre-radio and phonograph days, music lovers bought sheet music of their favourite songs to perform at home for each other in order to pass the time and have fun.
After the first phonographs were introduced to the Nickel Belt, recorded music was sold primarily through mail-order catalogues, local department stores, stationery stores, and (oddly enough) drugstores.
By 1914, the majority of musical merchandise sales in the town occurred at F.M. Stafford’s Twin Stores at the northwest corner of Durham and Larch (the future home of the T. Eaton Co. Store), Samuel Jessop’s stationery store and druggist H.S. Young’s store. They were joined soon enough by the first business solely dedicated to music: Bell’s Music Store, located in the Rothschild Block on Cedar Street. Mr. Bell specialized in pianos and gramophones (as well as the 78RPM records to play on them) but also advertised the “largest stock of sheet music north of Toronto.”
By the end of the First World War, Walton’s Drug Co., which sold instruments and phonographs (who said music couldn’t be the prescription for what ails a person?), joined the others in the musical game. But, the popularity of recorded music in our region led, in short order, to the opening of three new phonograph retailers: WT Crawford, JMH Vigneault and Maurice Cohen & Son.
For some of these retail establishments, catering to their musical clientele was more of a side gig than their reason for existing.
For instance, JMH Vigneault on Borgia Street was a furniture and carpet store that also happened to sell pianos and gramophones. But Maurice Cohen’s store attempted to cater to a higher-end clientele by promoting their stock of “elite phonographs” sold alongside a selection of “Mozart pianos.”
Within a couple of years, most of their competition had vanished from the market as Maurice Cohen & Son took the self-proclaimed title of “Home of Music Lovers.” This did not last long because, in 1923, Cohen & Son downgraded themselves (so to speak) to being only the “House of Music Lovers” before disappearing completely in 1925. This left a void in the musical retail landscape that would not be filled until the next decade.
Two years into the Great Depression, in 1931, the first of many great music businesses to exist in our city arrived on the scene, just in time to brighten the mood of residents. Melody Music at 5 Durham St., which was owned by George and Eulalie von Zuban, quickly established itself as the “Music Centre of the North”, since it served as a one-stop shop for all things musical (instruments, sheet music and records). The business even lured music lovers from beyond Sudbury’s borders, offering “prompt attention to all mail orders.”
Unfortunately, after more than three decades in business, the city lost this musical megastore when, on April 23, 1968, a three-alarm fire, described by firemen as being a “blast furnace,” destroyed the entire downtown business block where Melody Music was located, causing a minimum of $180,000 in fire damage.
The blaze started at around 10 p.m. in the rear of Melody Music, and the flames quickly gnawed their way through the thousands of dollars in records that were inside the store. The intense heat from the burning vinyl caused thick black smoke and accompanying poisonous gases to bellow out from the burning building, forcing the firemen to don inhalators.
No casualties on account of smoke inhalation were reported among firemen or the hundreds of onlookers. It wasn't until 6 a.m. the next day that the “stubborn fire”, as Fire Chief Bob Scott put it, was officially out.
Luckily for musically inclined Sudburians, the von Zubans were not ready to abandon their clientele. The couple tried to rebuild their 5 Durham St. location but a second disastrous fire ended those plans and the von Zubans were forced to rebuild again.
In between both disasters, Melody Music operated out of the Coulson Hotel. The von Zubans were hesitant to reveal any future plans because of both the financial setbacks as well as the physical strain brought on by the situation.
But, as Canadian magazine RPM Weekly wrote about the couple in October 1969, “both Eulalie and George have gathered a sizeable number of friends and admirers within the industry and news of their opening shop once again will no doubt result in their receiving many messages of good wishes.”
One of those wishes came from a record executive who exclaimed, “The record business just wouldn’t be the same without the personalized service offered by the Von Zubans.”
The new store opened in December 1969 at 134 Durham St. Mayor Joe Fabbro himself unlocked the door to customers and was also observed testing the merchandise (specifically a saxophone) much to the delight of the owners.
At the grand opening, store manager Jett Landry (yes, that Jett Landry, whose namesake music store still graces the corner of Attlee and Lasalle in New Sudbury) proudly showed off the shop’s "complete line of sound equipment from electronic components, to musical instruments and records as well as stereo tapes.”
As well, the store wished to cater to the musicians in town by offering “two sound-proof rooms on the main floor which are outfitted to cater to bandsmen and others who want to test their instruments or want to try out one of the items on sale in the store.”
Of course, if you were just looking for the newest record (or 45 rpm single) climbing the pop charts at the time, the record bins of the local department stores around town were just the place for you. Stores such as Kresge’s and Woolworths offered the top-selling LPs to music-loving teenagers who didn’t mind perusing the latest tunes in the record bins while mom and dad went shopping in the nearby clothing and housewares departments.
Throughout the psychedelic 1960s and into the 1970s, record stores (both independent and chain) began to pop up, catering to the growing demand for rock and pop music.
One such store was A&M Records, which opened at 27 Elgin St. North during the same month in 1969 that Mayor Fabbro busted out his saxophonist chops for the von Zubans.
"We intend to sell nothing but records and stereo tapes from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. six days a week," said Art Midgley, the 27-year-old manager of the A&M record store.
The store promised the largest selection of records in the city, including everything "from Beethoven to the Beatles” along with a special section of French selections from France and Quebec and even foreign language records.
As Midgley added, “The market for these selections is here. We know because we have taken a survey.” A&M Records (like all of the upstart chains coming to town) had a goal of taking on the established musical retail status quo. “The whole basis of our business will be volume sales. Most records normally sell for $5.29. We'll sell them for one dollar less (and) some special offers will see records going for $2.29,” he said.
Although most of these stores had a strong sense of community and served as a gathering place for music fans, one of these stores that “wheeled” into the city would end up rising above the rest in the retail music business.
On June 3, 1974, a new concept in record selling came to Sudbury to offer new releases for discount prices. A wildly painted bus appeared in our grey smelter-smoke city and parked across from the Odeon Theatre on Elm Street. It called itself Records on Wheels.
"We were successful in Toronto," said part-owner Don lerullo at the time, "This is the first branching out we have done."
His co-owner, Tony Anselmo, said years later while reflecting on their beginnings in the Nickel City, "I wanted to come home. I was sick of Toronto, so I took the bus and came to Sudbury.”
The decision to come to Sudbury came, according to lerullo, "when we realized that record prices in Sudbury are phenomenally high. Ninety per cent of the records in stock at Records on Wheels sell for $4.99.”
Most local stores sold records for prices averaging from $6.19 to $7.18. Their prices were lower because "we work with a low overhead and we ship from Toronto ourselves," said Anselmo.
Unfortunately, not long after opening, there came complaints from local businessmen and residents about Records on Wheels. In mid-June 1964, a city bylaw officer visited the bus, saying he had received complaints about the loud music being played and that it was operating without the proper permit.
Anselmo and lerullo purchased a $100 peddler's license because the city did not permit trailers or vans to sell merchandise, but according to the Business Licensing department, "under the salesman and peddlers permit a trailer or van that moves around is allowed to sell."
Of course, the bus would not remain the business’ main location for long.
“We planned to open a store here in the first place," Anselmo said, with plans for the bus to stay at its location for only a month before a store was opened. Though, he added, “The bus may be here for the rest of the year."
As the 1970s survived disco and became the 1980s, which itself survived hair metal to become the alternative 1990s, most retail music stores began to move off the streetscape and indoors into the shopping malls around the city.
A small census of local music shops over that timeframe includes (but is definitely not limited to): Kelly’s Stereo Marts and Off The Record in the City Centre; Walkers and A&A Records in the New Sudbury Centre, and; Sam The Record Man at the Southridge Mall, the Supermall and later the New Sudbury Centre, too.
Unfortunately, this bubble, fueled by the rise of the compact disc (and subsequent fall of the record) wouldn’t last. The business model was simple: make everyone buy their old records on CD. And, it worked — for a while.
Unfortunately for retailers, once they’d done that, the appetite for CDs waned and there just wasn’t enough money in new music to match the windfall that came after CDs first appeared.
In June 1997, Off the Record became one of the many casualties as it disappeared from the listing of stores in the City Centre. Co-owner Mario Sanchioni said at the time that the speed at which the 15-year-old business would close would depend on how the remaining stock sold.
He added that a combination of factors made him decide the business’ time had come. “This mall cannot support two record stores," he said. "(And) ever since the Canadian Tire left, we just don't have the same volume of (customer) traffic."
Six months after Off the Record was wiped off the local retail map, Tony Anselmo decided that Records on Wheels needed to live up to its name, again. In February 1998, he moved his store to its seventh location since it opened 24 years prior, almost literally walking the business across the street from the Elm Towne Square to the Mackie Building, at Durham and Elm Streets.
“This is the most visible spot in Sudbury," he said. "This is the sunny side of the street. It's the spot to be at."
Unfortunately, on the opposite side of town, the “spot to be at” changed faces many times but the lack of staying power proved that the times were a-changing. At the New Sudbury Centre, the last major retail music location, Sam the Record Man, closed due to bankruptcy in 2001. It was replaced by a succession of major music chains, which also fell to the changing business model: Music World (closed in 2007), HMV (shuttered in 2017), and Sunrise Records (gone by 2022).
Back downtown, in 2012, as Anselmo was on the move again, the love and respect of local music lovers for this local business (and its owner) was in full view. As reported at the time, “so many friends and customers showed up to help him move that he didn't need any moving trucks, and was ready to open his store again the next day.”
However, this latest location was not long for this city either as the problems that plagued traditional record stores finally became too much even for Anselmo. With the advent of online music stores like iTunes and Amazon and later the rise of digital streaming services such as Spotify, serious challenges abounded.
When Anselmo began, he was competing for sales against other record stores, but now he was “competing against technology,” which created “a challenge for brick and mortar stores to stay alive.”
Though, he added philosophically, “Competition is good for business. You have to be sharper and brighter. We have to be better at what we do." However, in the end, he decided to unplug and exit stage left because the music industry "is not what it used to be."
In one of his last interviews with Northern Life prior to closing his doors for good, Anselmo stated that he was grateful for the customers that he'd grown with over the years and that nothing beats watching young music lovers get hooked. In fact, the best compliment Anselmo ever received was about how he'd "molded" generations of music lovers.
“I've got a young kid that comes here now, all of seven years old," he said. "His passion for music is there. That's what keeps me going.
"It's so satisfying to be able to turn someone on to something new.”
After all, what would life be without music? “It would be life with a major void," Anselmo said at the time.
Well dear readers, now it’s your turn at the table. As the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin, once said, “Music does a lot of things for a lot of people … . It can take you right back, years back, to the very moment certain things happened in your life. It’s uplifting, it’s encouraging, it’s strengthening.”
What was your go-to shop to frequent? Could you spend hours flipping through the records, and later CD’s, looking for that one that spoke to you? What are your favourite memories of hanging out in local record stores? Maybe it led you down a different path that you least expected.
Share your memories and/or photos by emailing them to Jason Marcon at [email protected] or the editor at [email protected].
Jason Marcon is a writer and history enthusiast in Greater Sudbury. He runs the Coniston Historical Group and the Sudbury Then and Now Facebook page. Memory Lane is made possible by our Community Leaders Program.