【レコードマップ/神保町】Rubbergard Record in Jinbocho, Tokyo【Whole Earth Record Store Map】

I’m Ozaki from Rubbergard Record. I’ve been going to Brazil to buy records for about 20 years. Most of the records I carry are Brazilian music. I also handle jazz, Black music, and some rock as well. “Rubbergard” is actually a jiu-jitsu technique. That’s where the name comes from. What it means is— at least how I see it— it’s a super aggressive form of defense. While defending, you gradually lock in your opponent. It just felt perfect to me, so I went with that name. I started out with Japanese pop songs. From there, I gradually moved into Western music. I think Black music is what stuck with me most Back then, it was hard to get original pressings of records. So I’d listen to the radio, and record JB, Sly, P-Funk, and others, air-checking them one by one. It was a slow, steady search. Originally, I was into UK neo-soul, like The Style Council. I think that’s where it all began for me, probably. The direct reason would be, probably Ivan Lins. I really liked Ivan Lins from the AOR scene. In the ’80s and late ’70s, artists like Quincy Jones and George Benson covered his songs. Before I started this store, I worked at another shop. The owner had lived in the U.S. for a long time, and had a kind of entrepreneurial mindset. He couldn’t really pay us much, so he told us to source our own records and sell them at the shop. That was his approach. So I had no choice but to go buy records myself— otherwise I couldn’t make a living. It was a shop called AMS Record Shop. They mainly sourced AOR records. At the time, there was an AOR boom happening, so I think that’s how the shop became well-known. In the late ’90s, the older generation was going to the U.S. to buy records, and also making buying trips to Europe. So I started thinking, if I were to go somewhere, where should I go? It felt pointless to do the same thing as everyone else. As I was wondering what to do, that’s when it hit me—Brazil. I think it was around 2001 or 2002. When I first went, the internet wasn’t really something you could rely on. So I had no idea where records were sold, or how I could even buy them. I pretty much went without doing any research. And then from the airport, I got off at a bus stop near a park by my hotel, and right in front of me, there they were— records being sold in the park. Looking back, I think he said, “10 reais per record.” But I didn’t even understand that. There were actually some great records there. But I didn’t know anything at the time. I was staying at a cheap hotel called Ikeda Hoteis, run by a Japanese-Brazilian owner. I stayed there, and there was this older Japanese-Brazilian man living there full-time. I asked him, “Do you know where I can buy records?” And he had a great memory. He told me, “Go to this street, number so-and-so.” And sure enough, when I went there, they were selling records. Just like he said. I got there, and there they were—records for sale. On my first trip, I only went to São Paulo. So all I had was that old man’s information. From the store he told me about, I’d ask the people there and slowly expand from there. Next, I went to Rio. People there weren’t as used to Japanese visitors as in São Paulo, so it was a bit more challenging, I think. It really felt like an RPG. I remember thinking, “This is just like Dragon Quest.” The first time I went to Minas, I heard there was a building with several record stores inside. It was this tower-like building, and I climbed up a spiral staircase, but there were no shops in sight. I was wondering, “Where are they?” Then I noticed this narrow passage, not even a meter wide, with light leaking out from it. I went through it, and came out to find shops on the outer side of the building. It was like a dungeon. I had to ask people for directions, gather little bits of information, and make my way there— I did that kind of thing a lot. Whenever you get in a taxi, they always talk about Milton. So records by Milton and anything related to Clube da Esquina— they’re the most expensive in Minas. Even today in São Paulo, you’ll find shops called “sebo” that sell used records and secondhand books. They’re scattered all over the city. When you go into one, you’ll see shelves full of that famous yellow Ivan Lins album, *Somos Todos*. Whole sections of the shelves are just yellow. All lined up like that. You could pick as many as you want. They were around 100 yen each. Used, of course. But no one was buying them, so they just kept sitting there for ages. These days, even if you go to a sebo, you’ll only find one copy on the shelf at a regular price. Things have really changed. — What was the biggest culture shock? I’d say the looseness of their grading standards. They often say a record is “Novo,” meaning like new. They claim it’s in near mint condition, but it’s never actually like new. It looks clean, but there’s always a scratch somewhere, and you often hear surface noise because of it. It’s not really about who’s right or wrong— it’s just a difference in perception. You have to be careful and really think before you decide to buy or not. I learned that the hard way—lots of mistakes. — How many buying trips do you take per year? Twice a year. — And how long is each trip? About a month. I visit major cities like Rio, São Paulo, and Minas Gerais. Then there are the smaller cities that you can’t reach by plane. I go there by car with friends, or sometimes by bus. I’d say I visit around ten different places on each trip. What I set as my personal quota is 1,000 LPs per trip. That’s non-negotiable. And then, as for 7-inches— I try to get as many as I can. Up until a few years ago—before COVID— sometimes when I went out to the countryside, I’d find small kiosk-like record shops near the station, and they’d still have untouched stock. You could buy them for just a few hundred yen—flat price. These days though, what I enjoy most is buying entire collections. Sometimes they belong to wealthy collectors, filling up an entire room. Then their family asks them to get rid of it all, so I have to buy the whole thing. If I were alone, my Portuguese would only get me so far. Honestly, I wouldn’t be able to do much by myself. It’s only possible thanks to the friends I have there. This business really depends on those local connections. At AMS Record Shop, I ended up becoming the store manager. But since it wasn’t my own shop, I realized I couldn’t really do what I wanted. So I started looking for a space. I had always liked Jimbocho, so I searched around this area, and luckily found a great spot. That’s what led me to start my own shop. Most of our customers are in their 30s to 50s. I think that’s the case for most shops these days. We also get a lot of international visitors. They look us up in advance, and figure this must be the place to buy Brazilian records. They come here with that intention in mind. That happens quite a lot. This is the kind of shop people come to on purpose. We don’t really get many walk-ins by chance. Two days after I return from a buying trip, we do a big release of the newly purchased records. About 10 to 15 customers line up in the morning and buy records right then and there. At those times, some people buy 40 or even 50 records each. It feels like a festival that happens twice a year. I really enjoy it, and I always look forward to it. That’s when the store feels the most exciting, I think. It’s the same with our customers, but Brazilian music feels like a circular train line. Once you get on somewhere, you just keep riding within Brazilian music. Someone who was into one genre six months ago is often into a completely different one later. I find that really fascinating. Brazilian music feels very self-contained. With other genres—like modern soul or crossover— those exist in many countries. So people move from country to country, looking for things that match their taste. But fans of Brazilian music tend to stay within that world, and explore totally different styles within it. That’s what I find so interesting. There’s always something new to discover. Your taste just keeps evolving within Brazilian music. That really stood out to me as something unique and fun. There was a period I call the “blank years.” When it comes to Brazilian records— the shift to CDs happened quite late in Brazil. They were really behind the curve. Smaller labels, for example, were still releasing vinyl up until around 1995. Even major labels kept releasing records until about 1993. By that time, globally, most of the world had already switched to CDs. So a lot of records likely never got exported, and just sat dormant within Brazil. There were tons of them. That started to feel like a personal mission for me. I actively buy up anything I don’t already know. For regular customers, the image of Rubbergard is probably that we have tons of obscure, self-released or minor label records from around 1990— stuff they’ve never even seen before. Like when a well-known producer or arranger is behind a record, or when everything from a small regional city has a consistent sound across all its productions— in cases like that, some customers will say, “I want everything from this label.” There are actually quite a few people like that. And in fact, sometimes it’s the customers who end up teaching me something new. これなんかが 結構代表的かな It was arranged by Arthur Verocai, and I believe it was released in 1990. Back then, no one really paid any attention to it, but once people realized Arthur Verocai was involved, they started listening to it. Over the past 5 or 6 years, I think people have started to accept the sound of digital synthesizers. In that sense, it really fits the current mood, and I’d say it’s a record that sells quite well. I listened and sampled as much as I could before buying, but honestly, I also bought a lot just on instinct. There are definitely times I wonder, “Why did I even buy this?” Outside the shop, we have cheap records and sale items on display. From here, it’s mostly jazz. Lately, we’ve been getting a lot of jazz through buybacks. Mostly US and European releases, and occasionally some original pressings as well. For example, this one— lately, even among SteepleChase releases, this one’s surprisingly hard to find: Chet Baker and Duke Jordan. It’s a Japanese pressing, though. And then there’s South America. Lately, I’ve personally been really interested in Cuban records, so I’ve been sourcing a lot of those recently. New arrival… This one’s by Deborah Torres— a minor release from Rio. Lately, this label has really gained attention… especially through compilations. It features Black music, AOR-style tracks, boogie— it’s become quite a popular label for that kind of sound. Of course, we also carry bossa nova like this. Lately, the standards for what counts as an original have become a lot stricter. If it doesn’t have the embossed logo here, people say they’re not interested. This section has a lot of rare and lesser-known records. For example, here’s a record that Arthur Verocai was involved in. This one’s from 1987. Verocai wasn’t really active during this period, so I think this is a pretty rare find. This one’s kind of like… a “pilgrimage” record, so to speak. Just like in Spain, there’s a tradition of musical pilgrimages in Brazil too. This record is, I believe, the soundtrack to a documentary about such a pilgrimage. The music is by Saul Barbosa, a guitarist from the state of Bahia. His style is a bit different from the more traditional, folkloric Bahia sound. It’s that kind of unique sound that people have started digging deeper into lately. Along with these kinds of obscure records, we also source a lot of 7-inches. Many of our customers are actively looking for them, but lately it’s become really hard to find them. The prices have also gone up a lot. This one is by Djalma Dias, a Black singer, and it only exists as a 7-inch single. In Brazil, there are just so many records that were only released on 7-inch. If you’re not digging for those, you’re really missing half the picture as a collector. This section here is where we temporarily place new arrivals that just came in from Brazil. Customers are free to browse anytime, so a lot of people start their visit right here. I don’t know if it will ever happen, but if, for example, this shop had the chance to open a second location, if that opportunity ever came up, I’d love to create a store focused on non-English music. Brazilian records are expensive, so a lot of customers bring in records they own and ask if they can trade for something. That happens quite often. Many of the other genres we carry actually come in through trades. And when that happens, I often discover records and think, “Wow, I didn’t know this existed.” And those are usually from non-English-speaking regions— like Asia or Africa— and there’s just so much diversity in them. Lately, I’ve been really interested in SP recordings from the 1930s. Things like Cuban or Indonesian records— I’ve been vaguely thinking it’d be fun to open a shop that focuses only on those kinds of records. Globally, it feels like more and more young people are getting into records, and it’s exactly the same in Brazil. When there’s a record market, you see a lot of young women, people in their twenties showing up— and they’re actually buying records too. Originally, they were mostly listening to Western rock or jazz—British and American stuff— kind of catching up on those genres. But lately, they’ve started listening more to their own country’s classics— like Caetano Veloso, or Milton Nascimento. That’s the impression I get now. — Is bossa nova still being listened to? Of course, it still has a dedicated fanbase, and even younger people are buying it. But I get the sense that records from the ’70s are more dominant now. — What about samba? Samba is something that’s already in their blood. I think, for them, it’s more about dancing than just listening. When it comes to samba records, each escola de samba (samba school) has its own famous composers— people like Cartola, for example. There’s been a movement to reevaluate their work, and I think some people now collect samba as a genre in its own right. That’s the impression I get.

世界中の魅力的なレコード店を紹介し、店主の魅力やレコード文化の多様性を掘り下げる本企画。

今回は、東京・神保町にある「Rubbergard Record」さんをご紹介します!

Rubbergard Recordは、ブラジル音楽を中心としたレコードショップです。店主の尾﨑さんが年に2回、1ヶ月かけてブラジル各地を巡る買い付けを続けており、商品構成のほとんどが現地で直接仕入れたLPや7インチです。リオ、サンパウロ、ミナス・ジェライスをはじめ、地方都市にも足を運び、現地の友人の協力のもと、膨大なコレクションや知られざる名盤を発掘しています。店名の“Rubbergard”は、ブラジリアン柔術の技名に由来し、“攻撃的な防御”という意味合いを込めて名付けられました。店主自身の審美眼で選んだ珠玉のブラジル盤は、日本国内外からの支持も厚く、買い付け帰りの放出日は多くのファンが開店前から列を作ります。ここにしかないレコードとの出会いを求め、国内外から多くの音楽愛好家が訪れるレコード店です。

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■SHOP INFO
13:00~19:00(水定休)
東京都千代田区神田神保町1丁目38−6 自保神田ビル1F
03-3292-2505
新譜取扱:あり
旧譜取扱:あり
取扱ジャンル:ブラジル、ジャズ、ブラックミュージック
在庫枚数:約10,000枚

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ELLA STORIESは、東京のヴィンテージ・レコード・ショップELLA RECORDSの運営をはじめ、音楽を中心とした様々なカルチャー・コンテンツを発信するELLAの公式YouTubeチャンネルです。

このチャンネルでは、DJやライブを配信したり、全国のレコードショップを紹介したり、街中のレコードディガーに突撃インタビューしてみたり…。音楽を起点に、様々なカルチャーと連動した企画で、人々との”STORIES”を紡いでゆきます。

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