This was a brilliant read. As soon as I started reading this book I just knew I was going to love it. Highly recommended

Really enjoyable read. Good characters and a Good story. Well worth a read. Think others will enjoy.

Delightful, quirky, feel-good stuff that I have come to expect form Rachel Joyce. The music element added another dimension that led me to look up some of the records mentioned but overall this is a lovely read, warming.

Four elements in The Music Shop by Rachel Joyce stood out (and will leave me feeling fondly toward the story) –

01. It’s a book version of The Castle – local shop owners on Unity Street (somewhere in London) battle a property developer, who wants to demolish the existing buildings and replace them with apartments. Furthermore, Frank, who owns the music shop, only stocks vinyl. As CDs begin to take over the music market, Frank holds out.

“CDs aren’t music. They’re toys.”

02. The playlist. Frank doesn’t organise the records in his store alphabetically or by genre. Instead, he organises them by the ‘feel’. It’s why The Troggs sit alongside Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, and the Sex Pistols are with Purcell.

“God Save the Queen is one massive self-destruct button. John Lydon can’t sing, he can’t read music, and that’s the whole point. The song isn’t just anti-monarchy, it’s anti-everything, including himself. But we need him. When the whole country’s waving paper flags and eating finger sandwiches, you need someone to moon their arse. You see?” Ilse nodded. Slowly. Next he pulled out Dido’s Lament, written by Purcell for his opera Dido and Aeneas. “OK, so that was an explosion. This is an implosion… This is what it sounds like when a heart breaks.”

03. A complex mother-son relationship. Frank reflects on his relationship with his charismatic mother, Peg – Joyce’s careful and considered writing comes to the fore as Frank’s memories, although ‘happy’, are tinged with a longing and melancholy, the source of which is revealed by the end of the book.

…being a regular mother was anathema to Peg but when it came to vinyl, she displayed a care that verged on sacred. And she could talk about music for hours.

04. The importance of listening – to silences as well as words. Although not named, Frank is a music therapist – he finds songs that speak to people.

Over time, Peg played all the silences she loved. The more Frank listened, the more he understood. Silence could be exciting, it could be scary, it could be like flying, or even a really good joke. Years later, he would hear that final pause in ‘A Day in the Life’ by The Beatles – the one that gave just enough time to breathe before the last chord fell like a piece of furniture from the sky – and he would dance with joy at the sheer audacity of it… Silence was where the magic happened.

There’s more to The Music Shop – essentially it’s a love story, between Frank and the mysterious Ilse Brauchmann – but for anyone who has experienced the power of a song (that defines a moment; that seems to be written just for them; that makes their heart swell), and for anyone who still owns vinyl (me), file this novel under ‘heart warming’. It’s not without faults (for example, it was a stretch to think that everyone on Unity Street cared so much about Ilse), but they pale against the significance of listening, silences, music, and fighting for what you cherish.

There’s no guarantee that just because you are ready to go back and claim something, it will be there.

3.5/5 Charming.

I received my copy of The Music Shop from the publisher, Random House UK, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.

I love music, I love vinyl and I loved this book. Lovely characters and a lovely story with some sad, but mostly happy, parts in it. I have also tried to track down many of the vinyl records written about so beautifully in the book, so thanks for that too.

Frank was wandering with no particular purpose in mind when he saw the abandoned old shop with the for sale sign in front. He knew without a shadow of doubt that this was what he wanted – a quiet street, other small shops around – the shop was a mess, and Frank wasn’t that handy. But it wasn’t long before Frank’s music shop was filled with records; vinyl only – no tapes or CDs (trashy stuff!) – his records had customers coming to his door. Frank found them the music they needed, much to their astonishment.

When Ilse Brauchmann arrived at the front of his shop one day, Frank was struck by her. For some reason, one he couldn’t fathom, he was drawn to Ilse, and she seemed to be to him. But mystery surrounded her – when she wanted Frank to teach her music he knew in his heart that he should say no. Was Ilse who she seemed? Frank certainly didn’t understand her…

The Music Shop by Rachel Joyce is filled with quirky characters; some I loved, some not so much. The bumbling Kit was a charmer, Frank himself and of course the Father who was an ex-priest (and an ex-alcoholic) – but Ilse was enigmatic and didn’t tug at the heartstrings like the others. All in all, an enjoyable read by the author of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, which I loved. Highly recommended.

With thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for my digital copy to read and review.

Having found "The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry" a bit disappointing (it could have been amazing, but I felt that like Harold it lost its way en route) but nevertheless filled with promise, I was interested to see what Rachel Joyce did next. I've not got round to reading "Perfect" yet, instead I've skipped to her most recent writing with "The Music Shop", mainly because having spent the first part of my working life in record stores, I am always interested in books on this topic.
I do feel as though Joyce is really growing as an author, as her plot lines are getting tighter and more flowing, however she does seem to still feel compelled to set her novels in this weirdly stereotypical version of modern day England, a bit like a Richard Curtis film, but with slightly darker undertones.
That said, there is plenty to love about "The Music Shop". Imagine "High Fidelity" but with a grumpier, hairier, less angsty owner, who falls for a woman who literally falls for him outside his store.
Frank and Ilse's imperfect love story will have you frustrated and heartwarmed in equal measures. The path of true love never runs smooth, and in their case it is an extremely turbulent ride, but one that you'll be glad you took with them. As with Harold and Queenie, Joyce really does excel at creating wonderful richly-drawn characters who come to life off the page, and who you really feel you know by the final page. All in all, a great read.

I found this charming A character driven and music & vinyl based storyline is hard to resist. Rachel Joyce is an excellent storyteller. Enjoyed it immensely.

This is a beautifully written story about passion and the restorative powers of friendship and music. A memorable cast of characters are loyal to each other and their community in 1988 as the music industry transitions to CDs and Thatcher's Britain aims to obliterate local communities for grand housing and shopping developments. In particular, Frank, the main protagonist is a complex man unable recognise love yet able to tap sensitively into the emotional lives of his customers at the Music Shop on Unity Street.

4.5★

“‘I don’t care what anyone tells me. The future’s vinyl,’ he said.
. . .
‘Life has surface noise! Do you want to listen to furniture polish?’

Frank is a rumpled older fellow with a large, eclectic collection of vinyl records in a rundown shop in a rundown little side-street in a rundown part of London, which developers are eyeing for new housing.

Kit is the clumsy kid he’s taken under his wing to help out in the shop (when he isn’t breaking things), and there ae various side characters who also do business in the street: undertaker, tattooist, you get the idea. There are some people who have lived there for years, and there are some cheap rooms to let. It's a neighbourhood. Yes, it's run-down. Yes the buildings are crumbling. But yes, these people need each other and their homes.

Frank’s shelves are arranged in such a way that only he knows where anything is. He sorts his records by putting like with like. The thing is, only Frank know why one piece of music belongs with another, a symphony with an Aretha Franklin along with Johnny Cash or someone.

Frank ‘reads’ people. He doesn’t know how, but he listens, truly listens when they tell him why they’re looking for music – a breakup, a celebration, a moment of reflection. They don’t know what they’re looking for, but Frank does. He might hand them a concerto and a pop song, send them into one of his listening booths (converted wardrobes) and watch their faces light up when they hear their just-right selections.

This reminds me of Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, with its peculiar collection of books and odd customers, but this is a unique story about some very particular music. We are given snippets of Frank’s growing up with his self-absorbed mother, Peg, a musical genius (in her way). He always call his mother by name.

“‘Music comes out of silence and at the end it goes back to it. It’s a journey. You see?’

‘Yes, Peg,’ Though he didn’t see. Not yet. He was only six.”

She loves Beethoven, Handel, Miles Davis. Frank says she crashes through the boundaries like jazz musicians do. She told him

“Jazz was about the spaces between notes. It was about what happened when you listened to the thing inside you. The gaps and the cracks. Because that was where life really happened; when you were brave enough to free-fall.”

Peg’s musical influence obviously soaked deeply into him, and it’s all very well that Frank loves the shop and people love Frank, but it doesn’t pay the bills. Is he doing all right?

“Frank said he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t in the red exactly, but he was probably heading (kind of) in that (sort of) general (pinkish) direction.”

When the mysterious, lovely German, Ilse Brauchmann wanders in, everything changes.

I think some readers have made lists of all the music mentioned, and I can see why. I didn't, but I will have to go listen to Miles Davis though. Here’s why.

“‘This is the record that will change history,’ said Peg. ‘Why?’ She blew a plume of smoke towards a tea-coloured patch on the ceiling. ‘Because it takes music to a whole new place. Miles Davis booked all the best players but they had hardly any idea what they were going to play. He gave them outlines, told them to improvise, and they played as if the music was sitting right with them in the studio. One day everyone will have “KIND OF BLUE”. Even the people who don’t like jazz will have it.’

How could she be certain?

‘Because it’s the dog’s bollocks. That’s why.’”

Good enough for me! (And to think I was going to give away all of our old vinyl – yikes!)

Many thanks to NetGalley and Random House for the preview copy from which I’ve quoted (so quotes may change).

Having read the book about Harold Fry and his unlikely pilgrimage and loving it, I was very excited to get a copy of this book and loved it just as much. The way that Rachel Joyce paints the images of the dusty old shop and evokes memories of the 1980's was commendable. I loved the characters too, especially Frank and his magical ability to choose the right song for anyone, and to help them move along with life's struggles.
The story-line kept me hooked with just enough information unfolding to allow you to understand the depths of the characters in a gentle unfolding manner.
The end was wonderful and poignant and definitely brought a tear to my ear. I would recommend this as a great read.

I really enjoyed reading this one; great characters, nostalgia for 80's music and the heady days of vinyl, and an uplifting story. A quick, enjoyable read

We stumble into The Music Shop in the 1980s - it’s a bit like the wardrobe in Narnia, the ring in Lord of the Rings. By the worn carpet, the crackle of the needle on the LP, the sponginess of the headphones on our ears, we are transported to another place, where things are just, well, nicer.

Frank, with his uncanny knack for finding music that will heal your soul, runs the place, and is a stubborn vinyl supporter - to his own detriment, when CDs are arriving with all their practicality and none of vinyl’s charm. Crazy Kit assists, with his love for exclamation marks and badly constructed “advertising”. Maud, a quiet tattoo artist works down the drag, with the Williams brothers, who run a funeral parlour. Mr Novak, the baker and Father Anthony who has a shop filled with religious paraphernalia also pop in from time to time.

Into this weird world filled with whacky way out people walks green-clad Ilse Brauchmann, who promptly faints outside, throwing them all into a bit of a quandary, especially Frank, who falls in love.

Rachel Joyce, famous for the acclaim created with The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, has done her music homework. The notes soar high and clear, and you’ll enjoy this whimsical, nostalgic novel with its almost fantasy-feel. You’ll never believe it, but you probably won’t mind.

I don't really go in for the kind of book that makes you weep. I find them too saccharine, just too artificial. So it came as a surprise when I realised that sitting reading this wonderful story about Frank and his music shop my cheeks were wet and that I had been crying. It is such a touching story that reaches you on so many different levels.

Frank was brought up by his mother Peg. A quirky independent lady who insisted on being called by her first name. Her stories about the composers and the music that they created instilled Frank with a deep seated love of all things musical. From opera to heavy metal Frank had listened to all of it. All apart from the Hallelujah Chorus - ever since his mother's funeral he can't bear to listen to that one.

When Frank stumbles on a run down store in Unity Street, in a town that permanently smells of cheese of onion from its crisp factory, he knows that it is the perfect location. He has a diverse set of neighbours and little local shops and it feels like a real community. Frank's music shop fits right in. His collection of precious vinyl is unloaded into the shop and he discovers that he has an innate sense of what music the customer needs - whether they know what they want or not. He just has a feel for what will fix you.

It is the late eighties and the shiny plastic CD is just coming to the fore. The record company sales reps are all desperately trying to encourage him to take the new fangled CDs. They can only give him discounts if he takes CDs. Adamant that music should only be on vinyl Frank refuses to budge. Those things will not be accepted in this shop.

When I first started working for a major record company in the Nineties I used to have to deal with all of the independent record stores sorting out returns requests and discount queries, credits for stock damaged in transit or short shipped. I knew lots of characters like Frank. Some not quite so affable but equally passionate about music and their customers. If only they could have known then that 2017 would see a vinyl revival and shiny black plastic becoming the fastest growing music format!

One day a young woman in a green coat faints outside the shop. Frank and his neighbours rush to help. The smartly dressed German lady in her matching gloves and sweet smile make an instant impact on Frank and his young assistant Kit. She dashes off in a hurry but all are caught in her spell. When Kit realises that she has left her green handbag behind concerted attempts are made to try and find the sad stranger.

Although this book is primarily about the friendship between Frank and Ilse it encompasses so much more. An education about music - all kinds of music. I wanted a playlist so that I could listen to the music that Frank was recommending and hear or myself. The timeline is interspersed with the stories that Peg told the young Frank so you get a feel for why he is the person that he is.

If you have any interest in music and want a beautiful and touching story then you really can't go wrong with this book. Tell all your friends. The Music Shop is a masterpiece.

Supplied by Net Galley and Transworld Digital in exchange for an honest review.

UK Publication date: July 13 2017. 336 pages.

<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Music-Shop-Rachel-Joyce-ebook/dp/B01JNZ6BO6/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&qid=1504271456&sr=8-1&keywords=the+music+shop+rachel+joyce&linkCode=li2&tag=angelrevie-21&linkId=68c5d24f135eba61b605ac6370175979" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="//ws-eu.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&ASIN=B01JNZ6BO6&Format=_SL160_&ID=AsinImage&MarketPlace=GB&ServiceVersion=20070822&WS=1&tag=angelrevie-21" ></a><img src="https://ir-uk.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=angelrevie-21&l=li2&o=2&a=B01JNZ6BO6" width="1" height="1" border="0" alt="" style="border:none !important; margin:0px !important;" />

his novel has the ingredients that I love consuming: quirky characters, music references (I LOVE music!), David vs Goliath situations, unlikely friendships. Unfortunately, the way they were mixed up resulted in a hard to swallow, boring dish.

I never got a clear image of the characters, and worst of all, I never really cared, so that made the reading of this novel feel like work when it shouldn't have been.

I hate to say this, but all the music trivia, at times felt like unnecessary information dumping. While there were occasional quotable passages, the rest of the writing was contrived and the flow and pace were off.

Not bad, but underwhelming.

Unity Street is a forgotten backwater in a depressed city, home to a bunch of misfits who work together in adversity. There is a funeral parlour, a tattooist, a polish bakery and a record store. The latter is owned by Frank, a complex character who eschews anything other than vinyl but is able to pick just the right piece of music for each individual who crosses his path. That is until Ilse turns up at the shop and suddenly Frank cannot understand his feelings or hers.

Rachel Joyce is developing into a wonderful novelist. Her books are populist but there is a great depth of emotion to them which makes them so much more than just pulp fiction. The characters are complex, each has their own story but Joyce shows restraint and doesn't batter the reader with information. The whole is like a piece of music building up to a climax. It is optimistic writing and unashamedly so.

I’m a big fan of Rachel Joyce, since reading "The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry", so as soon as I heard about "The Music Shop", I had to read it immediately and it didn’t disappoint.

"The Music Shop" is about a man called Frank, who owns a record shop in the late 80s. Music is Frank’s way of interpreting and existing in the world and he has the extraordinary ability to listen. He understands the melody, the meaning, the emotion that a piece of music can contain – how it can elate, enrage or embrace you. And now, whenever a customer walks into the ordered chaos of his record shop, he will listen and he will find the song they need. It’s probably not what they came in asking for, but it’s what they need nevertheless. Frank will listen to you and hear the secret song inside you and make it real.

Then one day, a woman in a pea-green coat with eyes like vinyl faints outside Frank’s shop and changes everything.

Joyce has an extraordinary touch. She observes people minutely and exactly. But she does not pin down her characters with exactness. She is rather like a lepidopterist, who can gently cradle a passing butterfly in her hand. She examines carefully and with dedication. But only for a few seconds before releasing it once again. Hers is a gentle and respectful fascination with the human experience. She does not care for melodrama or action sequences. Joyce pays attention to the quiet existence of life that we can all relate to. Loneliness, grief, tender love and fierce friendship. And through it all, her words are warm and funny and generous.

“Jazz was about the spaces between notes. It was about what happened when you listened to the thing inside you. The gaps and the cracks. Because that was where life really happened; when you were brave enough to free fall.” (p97)

Rachel Joyce has carved out a niche for herself in creating quirky and damaged characters. I was interested in the people to a certain degree, but I didn't engaged in Frank and Ilse . In fact, Kit was the most three dimensional character. I thought it was implausible to think that Ilse would go to such length years later and the ending was a little bit too of a cliche. The music element was well researched and made me feel more sympathetic towards Frank. However,it wasn't enough to make me eager to choose another Rachel Joyce book.

This was a nice, gentle read. Not terribly exciting, but not in the least bit boring. It is well written and the characters are lovely, quirky and undeniably memorable. As I read mostly thrillers this made a refreshing change. The story was engaging and the pace was just right - like a Sunday afternoon stroll (compared to my normal thrillers which are more of a Monday morning run for the bus). All in all a good, entertaining and pleasantly distracting book that left me feeling happy.

I liked the background details on the musicians mentioned in the story. A little slow paced for me but nice to read something a bit different.