In 1989, Soho was a very different place. Holding up a busted mirror to today’s slew of Prets, faceless flats and hipsterchic bars, it was sharp at the edges and unsanitised. Nestled at 94 Berwick Street, amid a sprawl that had mainlined sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll for decades, was a new record shop that wanted to add its two cents to London’s ever-shifting cultural conversation.
When current owner Phil Barton crossed the threshold at Sister Ray for the first time, he was working as a sales rep for one of the major record labels. He can’t remember which one. It might have been EMI, it might have been MCA. When you’ve been in the music business for over three decades, it’s hard to keep track.
“I was one of the first reps to call in,” he remembers. “Sales-repping, at the time, all you did was look for record shops that had chart machines. They had a chart machine, and it had become a hub for certain types of music: indie, metal, techno, ambient stuff. It was another shop that gave Berwick Street the kind of kudos that Soho’s always had.”