I stopped by Atomic today, its last day, twice. I stopped on my way to work because I wanted to one more time feel some of the anticipation that I used have, waiting for that door to open. It was quiet and peaceful, at rest. Not open for 4 hours.
I then returned after work, already knowing that the records that I had held out on were already in the clutches of someone a little less in need of a bargain than I. I wanted to look through the stacks just once more, hoping to find something rare, something I would treasure. I wanted to breathe it in one last time, see that group of people that made shopping for music an experience.
I had my camera along so I snapped the above pictures and a few more of the outside and in, the posters and walls, the crazed and quick fingered seekers. And I thought as I left that I would like to take a picture with Rich the owner, Mark the clerk that “is” Atomic to me, but I realized that I don’t need pictures to memorialize this. All of the sensory remembrances of Atomic Records are stored in my head. Those will last longer.