A wrinkled, photocopied picture of the Merge Records label taped above a doorbell is the only confirmation that I've come to the right place. The unassuming entrance on this even more unassuming Durham streetcorner is shocking. I mean, this is the House that Superchunk Built for crying out loud. Merge puts out albums from Spoon, who played on the Conan O'Brien Show two weeks ago; The Magnetic Fields, whose album 69 Love Songs was ranked No. 4 and No. 9 in 1999 by Spin and Rolling Stone' respectively; and of course Superchunk themselves, arguably one of the best long-standing indie acts in the business. I buzz the bell and walk to the staircase.
Martin Hall, the public relations director for Merge greets me at the top of the stairs. As we round the corner I start to smile. Promotional posters, shrink-wrapped CDs and music videos line the inside of the office. The setup resembles an old radio station, where every room has a large glass window next to the door. Most of the desks and furniture look dated, and add to the independent flavor of the building. As I stand there, Matt Suggs, former lead singer of the band Butterglory who is doing a solo project, walks by, toting his guitar. "What's up?" he asks, and shakes my hand.
Martin and I finally sit down in his office where he begins to unravel the history of Merge. What started as a mechanism for Superchunk to put out 7-inch singles became an official label in 1992. Mac McCaughan and Laura Ballance of Superchunk own and run Merge, which currently has seven employees. In 1994 Superchunk's deal with Matador Records ended, and rather than look for a larger label with increased distribution, they chose to retain all artistic control, and put out their own material. Since then, Merge has grown to put out records for over 40 bands.
What makes this label so unique is the utter simplicity of their methods. They have remained in business for roughly 12 years despite relying on album sales to a small, selective fan base and essentially no mainstream radio airplay. In fact, they've even grown steadily. There's no way to define the label's sound, because they don't select their artists that way. As Martin tells me, "We don't think about how much the album will make for us, we simply ask ourselves, ` Would we buy this?'"
I walk away from the Merge Records office a little lighter on my feet. Right in our own backyard there's a little piece of music heaven, untainted by the massive mainstream machine, selling great sounds for the absolute love of it.
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