Abstract

During a winter evening at the end of 1990s, a friend took me to a record shop in downtown Geneva, Switzerland. It was located in a small apartment on the first floor of an old building. The shop consisted of one room, furnished with shelves, a coffee table, a sofa, and a couple of chairs next to a fireplace. Records, mostly compact discs, were arranged on the shelves, listed according to their novelty. A box provided a selection of older records, arranged alphabetically by composer and musician. It was open only on Thursday and Sunday evenings, from 9 p.m. until late.