On the corner of Willow and Franklin Streets in Torrington, Revolution Records doesn’t announce itself with fanfare. But inside, you’ll find a library of music from a bygone era.
The store bins overflow with records of every genre, while the walls are blanketed with posters from the 1980s —U2, Rush, and other bands that defined a generation. A community board invites local musicians to find bandmates.
“When I opened this store, I wanted it to feel like my bedroom when I was a teenager,” said John Dibella, who founded the shop six years ago before handing it over to his lifelong friend, Ted Pirro. Pirro, a music lover with shoulder-length silver hair, has spent most of his life working in record stores.
More than a retail shop, Revolution Records has become something of a community center. Pirro calls his most devoted customers “hall of famers” — regulars who arrive without fail every week and chat for hours.
“There’s one gentleman here who’s a huge Beach Boys fan,” said Pirro. “He comes in every Saturday at six like clockwork and we’ll talk about the Beach Boys, how he discovered Brian Wilson.” Another regular, “Magic Phil,” comes in Fridays to discuss the Mets.
The store has also become a meeting ground across generations. Parents and grandparents bring in college-age kids getting their first turntables, bonding over their shared love of music.
“A lot of them are basically rebuying their youth,” Dibella said. “They want to hear it the way they remember hearing it.”
Dibella and Pirro remember when vinyl ruled in the mid-80s, with bustling stores on every block of the West Village. But starting in the 1980s, CDs and cassettes upended the industry. By 2006, album sales had plummeted, and famous record stores shuttered.
“We bought albums from those days marked down to $2.99 that are now worth $35, $40,” explained Dibella. “That’s how much people had no interest in vinyl.”
Ted Pirro has spent most of his life working in record stores and now runs Revolution Records in Torrington.Theo Maniatis
Now, from the brink of extinction, vinyl has been revived. Album sales reached 43.6 million last year for the first time since the 1980s.
Part of old-time records’ appeal lies in the treasure hunt. Dibella’s greatest find came from a box someone rescued from the town dump. Most of it was junk. But, he says, “Second to last record in the box is a King Crimson white label promo of their first album.”
Only 300 were ever made, with maybe ten surviving in good condition. Dibella bought it for a dollar. The actual value? Over a thousand dollars.
Vinyl’s other appeal is the warm, dynamic sound that can’t be captured in digital format. “If you’re listening on YouTube or Spotify, the sound is very compressed,” Pirro said. “You’re not getting the full, rich experience.”
Maybe the greatest appeal of records is the tangible, physical experience: admiring the cover, gently placing the stylus, and those few seconds of static before the music plays.
Running an independent record store is not easy, however. Pirro works six days a week, and the worries of the job linger with him on the seventh day too. There are slow periods after holidays when people travel, and the challenge of finding quality collections to buy.
But for Pirro, it is more than worth it. “I put all my energy into this thing because I don’t want to work for anyone else again,” he said. “The fact that I get to discuss my number one love in life every day is just awesome.”
