Clutter corner

In the store next door, just past the neatly arranged crates of vinyl and the familiar scent of old cardboard and fresh plastic sleeves, sits the infamous junk corner. No spotlights or tidy labels here—just an effortless mess of second-hand gear, stacked like it landed that way on its own. Turntables with yellowed buttons, CD players that respond to their eject button a little begrudgingly, and amplifiers that look like they once carried a nightclub on their shoulders.

On a shaky wooden shelf lie dusty mixing consoles, some with beer rings from a past life in a rehearsal room or radio studio. Cassette decks sit half open with forgotten tapes still inside, waiting for someone to press play again with care and patience. Cables snake through the shelves like electric spaghetti, and now and then a test sound slips through—a hum, a click, a snippet of forgotten soul playing at the wrong speed.

Buyers rummage through with a mix of hope and nostalgia. Tech nerds, DJs hunting for gear with character, or random passersby thinking, “What is that thing?” It’s not a showroom—it’s a treasure trove for those who know what they’re looking at. Everything’s fair game to try out, and often you’ll walk away with a handful of dust and a good story thrown in for free.