Blimey, Essex Road, NW1 doesn’t look or feel like being in London. The underground station was absolutely deserted on a midweek morning. There were no ads and the old Network Rail signage was still up. It felt like being a bit part player in some Patrick Keiller early 90s film.
Walking out of the Overground and down towards the City end of Essex Road was also remarkably quiet. The shops were open but no one was around.
This felt most odd. It’s an unremarkable high street that connects Angel with the outer edges of Dalston. Nothing remarkable but still functional in a geographical sense.
It could have been Streatham High Road, Clapham High Street or even the Walworth Road. You have your usual mix of charity shops, nail bars, and the odd quirky local business.
But Essex Road was absolutely empty. You try walking down Walworth Road on a midweek lunchtime without bumping into anyone.
The reason for the rare excursion north of the river was for a pre-planned trip to the wonderful Flashback Records. R and I dropped in here around fifteen years ago as part of a Way We See It photo shoot. It was a rare find even then when it comes to secondhand vinyl and CDs.
I didn’t know where to start with my crate digging when I first walked in with R. There was so much selection, so much choice.
Fast forward to 2026 and I didn’t know when to stop. I had a budget which far outstripped the many piles of CDs I was starting to build up.
Whoops.
Flashback is very much an old school record shop. It has that curious smell of vinyl and plastic inner sleeves mixed in with the often unique aroma of the clientele that secondhand record shops seem to accumulate.
I think that’s a polite way of putting it.
I could have closed my eyes and been back on the shop floor at Selectadisc anytime in the early 1980s.
I started flicking away through the extensive CD racks. Captain Sensible was playing over the shop speaker system. It was a most pleasant way to spend an hour or so whilst simultaneously testing the patience of my non-music buying shopping partner.
I had made the usual mistake of too many cups of tea in the morning. I entered Flashback with serious toilet issues. There wasn’t a lot of scope along Essex Road in the public toilet department.
Flicking through the CD racks was a strange way to distract my mind and shift my attention.
I thought I did rather well in terms of limiting my spend. I walked out with The League Unlimited Orchestra remix album, some Weller orchestral piece that I didn’t even know existed, and the fourth Aztec Camera album, Stray: £15 all in.
The next day I realised I’ve already got the Aztec Camera album, natch. I really should get round to combining my somehow unworkable double system for finding away CDs back at base.
