A curtain call for Poindexter

Rock and Roll has always been a game for the young," Jack Campbell, owner of the Ninth Street mainstay Poindexter Records explained. "I'm 37, and it's time to move on."

Campbell opened his shop in 1985 with $1,000 worth of LPs on the shelves. Over the next 13 years, he slowly tore down those shelves to make room for rows of rough, wooden bins, systematically developing one of the most diverse and complete offerings of CDs in the Triangle area.

Now personal reasons are drawing it to a close. His girlfriend received a job offer last May on the same day he completed his bachelor's degree in philosophy at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, and he is leaving to join her and try something new. Maybe with a record distributor, maybe with a label, he's not sure.

But the bidding war is on for Poindexter, and by early fall semester there'll be a whole different set of faces sitting behind the familiar counter. John Howie, a Poindexter veteran of seven years, Walker Martin of five years and Andy Shull of three will join Campbell when he makes his final walk out the door.

Now, with his store on the block and his bags half packed for a sojourn to Manhattan, Campbell has become privy to all the thoughts people tend not to share until something ends; His patrons are talking about the centrality of his indie store to music genres without mainstream press, about the importance of having physical centers to power a culture, about the stability offered by a store that maintained its focus for 13 years.

And here Campbell thought he was simply running a good business.

"We always intended to appeal to the serious music consumer-someone who's quite involved and is willing to educate themselves. And we always knew people liked the store," Campbell said, "but we had no idea about the depth of allegiance."

All he really knew for sure, he added, is that "the ink on the bottom line has been black every year we've been in the business." Not an unimpressive feat considering that, nationally, CD sales have been on the decline since 1994. Poindexter managed to survive the market fluctuations that sent under many of its peers by recognizing a fundamental change in buying patterns: People were expressing individualized taste over allegiance to a few hit bands.

It's this acute attention to those fundamentals of Economics 51-not anyone's philosophical preferences-that makes Poindexter a definitive music source.

"We carry one of this, two of that, and we watch sales really carefully. There are only about 25 titles at any given time that I feel I need more than seven of. So it's a small store, but when every record is a good one, that's a lot," he explained with obvious pride.

He's even a bit derisive when describing other methods of running a music store. "The way mall stores work is they carry the Billboard's hot 100 plus a bunch of heavily discounted crap and nothing in between. You don't have to work hard to run a store like that."

Further, Campbell notes, the "one-stop" middle men that he deals with daily, and that serve stores too small to handle direct connections to the five major labels, are careful to treat Poindexter with care.

"We've hung around for long enough that we've become a really peachy account. We're Dunn and Brad Street," Campbell said, noting, for instance, that with a one-stop in California, if he orders by 4:00 in the afternoon, the CD is there when he opens.

Trinity senior Fred Schulte-Hillen, a former intern for Merge Records, an independent label based in Chapel Hill, says the store's success lies in its responsiveness.

"They do not simply stock up on every obscure new and old release.... but despite having a limited selection-they couldn't be profitable if they didn't-[Poindexter] can get you almost any CD under the sun," Schulte-Hillen said. "Personally, I depend on that for my record collection. I can think of no other place in Durham that can do that for me."

That response isn't an uncommon one. Poindexter has built up quite a cult following in the area. It's loved for a variety of reasons, the knowledgeability of the staff, the ticket sales for area venues, and of course, its shirts.

True story: Zoology instructor Leo DiNapoli, Trinity '97 and long-time Durham resident, began shopping at Poindexter's shortly after he entered ninth grade. His parents told him he would have to be responsible for his own apparel, so he started buying Poindexter's five dollar shirts. A good deal. Today, he owns 34, and wears them religiously as ever.

And DiNapoli's story isn't as unusual as you might imagine. Campbell has a veritable book of anecdotes about his store, all equally original.

But these stories aren't just interesting footnotes tacked onto the story of Poindexter's 13-year history; they're a commentary on the store's likely future. Poindexter, Campbell notes, occupies a unique niche and has developed a distinct personality. Since the store thrived under smart marketing, Campbell says, market forces will bring in a similar new owner.

So far, he's received offers from in-state and out-of-state individuals, as well as established enterprises. "You'd be a fool to take over this place unless you wanted to sell to the same clientele," he says. "So they'd at least attempt to do the same, and I'm not going to sell it to someone who will not run it well."

Alluding to the regret many have voiced at the store's management change, Campbell said he is touched that so many consider the store such an important fixture of local music. The affection makes Campbell's desire to move on all the more bittersweet.

When he finally does pack up for New York, it'll be the second fresh start of his life. Back in 1981, he left UNC in his sophomore year, intent on becoming a rock star.

And he was. Campbell played bass in the Band Johnny Quest, which was popular all over the South East. After a few years, he stopped playing on the road with equally high ambitions to open up a record shop and tackle a difficult market.

Looks like he did OK.