A little piece of me died today when I discovered that the best independent record shop in the country for hip hop, soul and funk finally succumbed to the inevitable and closed at the end of last week. They shut the shop about six months ago and were trying to continue as an online store, but apparently the death of vinyl has now gone beyond its tipping point. The website has been snaffled up by some gaff in that there London and they're promising "exciting new developments in the near future". Excuse me if I don't hold my breath.

I've been buying vinyl from Fat City for about fifteen years - since it was based in a tiny upstairs unit in Affleck's Palace, in fact. Many is the time I've spent a happy hour or two in the shop on Oldham Street listening to new stuff (and old) and chatting about it with the friendly and unpretentious staff. They were the least snotty record shop staff I've ever known - no "you're not in our gang/from round here" snobbery from these Mancs; they were always happy to shoot the breeze over a shared passion and many is the time they'd throw me in a freebie or knock a few quid off when I was spending.

As the days of (hip hop) fatherhood arrived, I switched to shopping online as they were one of the first to post short soundfiles of tunes for you to listen to alongside their ever-reliable write ups and suggestions. Obviously they were in the business of selling records, but I came to trust their judgement and knew that they could be relied upon to be a vital source of new music for this (Oxton) soul boy. And now that source has dried up.

As times became tighter, they never bothered trying to move into the download market as the likes of Juno, their much bigger and broader rival did; it always seemed like their hearts weren't in it anymore as the market changed and so it seems as they've finally had to fuck it off. I'll give the "new and improved" site a go, but I must admit I'm finding it hard to muster up much enthusiasm. I reckon I've spent going on twenty grand in there over the years and it felt like Fat City was partly mine; certainly my musical tastes are partly theirs: I owe my early discoveries of the likes of Doom, Dilla, Mos Def, Kweli and Madlib entirely to them and my shelves are full of little one off gems that probably only had a 250 copies pressing.

I'm gutted, to be honest. Fuck this soulless, digital, emperor's new clothes age.