If Jacob Zammit gets his way, the Harbourside Records store will be more than a retail space...
Jacob Zammit - Harbourside Records (Source: Supplied)
By late July, Jacob Zammit will be hauling crates of vinyl up three flights of stairs on New South Wales’ South Coast. It’s not the easiest path to launching a business, but for Zammit, it’s a fitting metaphor. His journey from online vendor to market regular and now, record store owner, has been anything but conventional.
On July 26, just days after his regular third-Sunday stint at the Kiama Seaside Markets, Zammit will open the doors to his first physical shop, Harbourside Records, tucked away on the third floor at 4 George Street, Warilla.
One might argue that opening a bricks-and-mortar shopfront is a bold move, especially for a record store in an era when streaming dominates, the cost of living has generally been at an all-time high, and high rents plague small businesses. But for Zammit, it’s also a homecoming.
“Markets have always been my thing – I’ve always worked in this high-energy, smiling atmosphere at the markets, the noise, the people,” he says. “I want to carry that vibe into the store.”
That might be easier said than done. The Wollongong store, located three flights up, poses logistical hurdles. “We might try it in one go and see how devastated by it we are,” he adds with a half-laugh. “We’ll see how it goes.”
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Despite the challenges, Zammit’s vision is unwavering. He’s not abandoning the markets - in fact, he’ll continue his stalls for at least a few more months. They’re more than just a revenue stream.
“The markets gave me my base, they're the people that gave us the start. People come back not just for the records, but for the conversations.”
Zammit’s venture into vinyl wasn’t supposed to lead to this. He started selling records online to avoid fees, then gradually built a loyal following. A website followed, and then, unexpectedly, a vacant space became available.
“I decided within a week,” he admits. “It wasn’t planned, but it felt right.”
There’s something fitting about the spontaneity. After all, Zammit's record business has always been more about passion than possession. His love for vinyl started young, and his collection grew in parallel with his devotion to ‘90s rock, soul, and alternative.
Ask him about his favourite records, and you’ll get a rapid-fire response as if he knows them like he knows his ABCs. “Siamese Dream by Smashing Pumpkins, Super Fly by Curtis Mayfield, and Pastel Blues by Nina Simone,” he says. “They’re my three that are must-listens in full, start to finish, they tell stories, and they really shine through a record player.”
That passion is something Zammit sees reflected in his customers, particularly the younger ones. “It’s amazing seeing teenagers digging through crates for The Beatles or The Beach Boys. Some of them discovered these bands through YouTube. Suddenly, they’re here asking me about early psychedelic records. It’s crazy.”
This intergenerational interest is at the heart of what Zammit hopes his store will be: a place where people of all ages can connect through music, share discoveries, and start or continue a love affair with vinyl.
Still, the cultural nostalgia surrounding vinyl is very real, and Zammit is leaning into it, not as a gimmick, but as a bridge to something tangible and analogue.
“Records are tactile. You listen to an album on vinyl, you commit. And you find favourite songs you might have missed. Having a vinyl collection is special. You don’t rifle through your MP3s, your online playlists. You pull out a record, open it up, smell it, read the liner notes, and put it on the player yourself. It slows you down in the best way.”
It’s a growing market, too. Industry data says there are around 200 independent record stores across Australia. Despite a brief pandemic-era slump, the industry has seen a revival: vinyl sales surged by 21% in 2023, outpacing CD sales for the first time in decades. Yet, like many industries, it’s a precarious space - several long-running shops in metro areas have closed down due to rising rent and decreased foot traffic.
That makes Zammit’s decision to open in the Illawarra all the more intriguing.
“Wollongong has that surfy, alternative rock vibe. It reminds me of the ‘90s scene, which I resonate with, and my story is going to be based around that atmosphere, because that's what I like.”
But it’s not just Wollongong. Though his store is based in Shellharbour - just a 15-minute drive north of Kiama - Zammit has long felt drawn to the seaside town. “There’s this creative energy in Kiama. Jazz festivals, record fairs, indie art pop-ups. It has heart.”
And for Zammit, Kiama is personal. “We used to have a caravan and come here all the time when I was a kid. My parents retired here. So it’s special to me - it feels like a second home.”
If Zammit gets his way, the store will be more than a retail space. He’s already fielding job applications from people who’ve always dreamed of living their real-life versions of High Fidelity, the cult film and novel that made record store ownership look both magical and maddening. He’s planning in-store performances, reaching out to local bands, and preparing for Record Store Day celebrations every year for as long as Zammit has his way with Harbourside.
“I want it to be a place where people hang out. Listen to music. Chat. Maybe catch a band on a Saturday.”
Community-building is central to his philosophy. While he admits that there has been limited engagement from other record store owners (“Some of them see new stores as competition”), he has found kinship among smaller vendors.
“There’s this great network between me and guys in Newcastle, Wagga Wagga. We swap stock, share advice.”
Zammit is of the endearing and logical ilk that believes there’s room for everyone.
“No two record stores have the same inventory. If someone starts collecting because they found something amazing at a different shop, that’s a win for all of us.”
Back at George Street, Zammit chips away at the soon-to-be shop, surrounded by crates of albums and posters waiting to be hung. “I still can’t believe it. When this premise came up down the road, I went and looked at it, and I just thought, ‘You know what? Stuff it? Let's go for it’. The week after, I'm like, ‘Holy shit, I've got the keys for a shop’.”
This piece of content has been assisted by the Australian Government through Music Australia and Creative Australia, its arts funding and advisory body