This is the most lit, the most turnt, the most totally-not-a- normal record store in the galaxy. We're talkin' neon lights, black borders, and font sizes that'll make your eyes water.
Our records are not just any records, they're infused with the essence of pure, unadulterated fun. So, if you're lookin' for the perfect mixtape for your intergalactic road trip, or just a sweet souvenir for that one aunt who loves everything, we've got you covered.
We've got the classics, we've got the newbies, we've got the ones that are totally not-a-classic but still kinda cool. Like, have you ever heard of "Spacey McSpacy"? No? No, neither have we. But it's on vinyl, so it's gotta be good, right?
We've also got a special section just for our favorite, totally-not-a-real artist, " prophets_ofประก
Prophets of LightWhat's the deal with the weird lighting?We like to keep things...lively. You know, for ambiance. And also because our landlord said we had to do something about the " ambiance" or we'd have to move. But we're not moving anywhere. This place is lit, and we're gonna keep it that way.
Just ask one of our totally-not-robotic staff members, and we'll hook you up with a signature that's totally worth the price of admission. Just don't ask for a Sharpie, we're all out of those. But we've got some nice, neon-colored markers that'll totally make it look like we meant to do it that way.
Or, you know, just don't ask for a signature. We'll just tell you that it's a totally different kind of record, and that you have to get it signed by a totally-not-real person in a totally-not-real place. That's just how it is.
Learn more about the totally-not-real people behind this totally-not-a-real record store
Trade in, trade up, baby! We'll take your old records, and we'll give you something new, shiny, and totally not-a-real. Like, have you ever heard of "The Space Age of Love"? No? No, neither have we. But it's a real thing, we swear!
Trade in your records, get new records, repeatContact us, and we'll contact you. Or, you know, just show up. We're always here. Except when we're not. But usually we are. Unless it's Saturday. Or Sunday. Or Tuesday. Okay, fine, we're here on Thursdays. And Fridays. And Mondays. Maybe. Probably.
Get in touch, or not, we guess