It’s been a decade since Wayne Hill, or as some people call him, Uncle Joe, opened Joe’s Garage in Westbourne Road, and it’s been, in his own words, “the best job I’ve ever done”.
Joe’s Garage is a place where nostalgia is almost tangible. As I enter, the smooth, steady rhythm of a Reggae compilation fills the shop. Here you can browse for hours and be transported back in time, as one is guaranteed to find something of personal significance, reminiscent of a past experience.
As interesting as this secondhand shop is, featuring a vast array of CDs and vinyl records, books, and general vintage items, so are Hill and Justin Lawrence, who keep the business and background music flowing.
Both believe in marching to the beat of one’s own drum, and sharing their appreciation of music is one of the common interests they share. Their love of music is evident in the name of the shop.
“Joe’s Garage is the name of Frank Zappa’s classic final album. Also, I thought the shop was going to be like a garage sale when I started it, implying that I don’t have to tidy it up,” laughs Hill. “But books and records, I love them. That’s how it all started.”
Wayne’s knowledge of vinyl records, bands, music genres, and his fair knowledge of books is undeniable, and his affinity for older things obvious.
“They don’t make stuff the way they used to. It’s all about quality; the older, the better.”.
Talking of books, Hill mentions that he reads randomly but loves old-school horror novels and Stephen King.
“His stories are written simply and to-the-point. No long descriptions.”
Such is Wayne’s character, up-front, honest and authentic. He lives life according to his own tempo.
Always hankering back to the quality of true craftsmanship, Hill tells me of his love for books with beautiful edgings and woodcuts; how he has restored antiques, and loved bringing furniture and grand pianos back to life through French polishing. In the past he also worked in the building trade and was a printer at different stages of his life.
It is apparent that he’s managed to carve out a steady rhythm for himself amongst the frenetic cadence of modern life. These days he is a self-declared “treasure hunter”, who’s spent 34 years patiently searching for interesting items and musical gems, a specialised collector.
“All collectors are nuts in their own right,” Hill says jokingly. “I love going around looking for stuff, and I get to do it every day now. I’ve turned what I love into a job!”
His artistic streak is always present. Having made a living as a painter in the 1990s, he is also an avid collector of art books.
“You’ll see some piece of junk and you’ll think ‘I can do that with it!’ Before you know it, you’ve got rooms full of junk.”
As expected, Hill always has a plan.
“I’m now working on a creative project involving experimenting with moulding plastics.”
Justin Lawrence used to visit Joe’s Garage often before he started working there. Delving more into the digital, component side of things, Lawrence does repairs and servicing of CD players, turntables, and amps. He still can’t quite believe his luck of having found a job which allows him to combine his love for music and his technical skills.
“Selling CDs has taken on a life of its own, and has grown quite substantially. The audiophile market in this city is not large, but there are some collectors of LPs and also casual buyers. Luckily records have made a massive comeback in the last 15 years. Physical media still seems to appeal to many people.”
“Music is nostalgia,” adds Hill, plain and simple.
As I leave, Hill and Lawrence go to sit in a streak of sunlight on the pavement in front of the shop. They talk, all in good time and at their own pace, about the Pet Shop Boys’ newly-released album, Loneliness. The Rolling Stones’ recently released Hackney Diamonds and Depeche Mode’s 101st and final concert in the 1980s.
As life passes by and carries on, the sounds of the street blend with the Counting Crows’ story-telling lyrics pouring from the shop. Inside, a few customers browse the shelves and racks filled with classics, continuous surprises, and a sense of continuity over time. It’s pure nostalgia.
