“Ride this train to Roseburg, Oregon,” says Johnny Cash in his gravelly intro to “Lumberjack,” the third track of his 1960 concept album, Ride This Train. Over the blare of a rail whistle, Cash continues: “Now there’s a town for you — and you talk about rough.”
Rough this southern Oregon town still can be, and unashamedly redneck with flotillas of pick-up trucks routinely lifted high enough for drivers to slam dunk a basketball merely by reaching out the window. Gun sellers outnumber bookstores at least 10 to 1 (and that’s a used bookstore).
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So imagine my surprise finding a sake and record bar. Japanese rice wine and new vinyl albums here?
Yes! Long and slim, lined with framed music photography and album racks jam-packed with collectors’ wet dreams, Reverie Record Shop is a corridor drawing the wanderer away from SE Jackson St. and, at the rear, sake (the fridge stocks a dozen varieties), coffee, craft beer on tap, easy chairs and an ever-spinning, lamp-lit, VPI Aries turntable.
Newcomers may wonder if this is a serious business or money-laundering exercise. It’s legit and in the black, declare owners Michelle and Albert, refugees from LA.
Migraine-free since the switch to sake, says Michelle pictured here with Albert, at Reverie in Roseburg. (Photo by Sierra and Isaiah Miller)
“All you have out here are bars,” says Albert. “Like bars. And not everybody’s into bars.” Albert means the ubiquitous dive bars, Roseburg police-log perennials like the Idle Hour, the Scoreboard, and Rumors. “And there was no dedicated record store here in Roseburg, so we decided to merge the two,” with coffee thrown in, Italian style: strong and straight with no bullshit syrups.
“The idea really came from the Japanese kissa bars,” he says. “After World War II, it was not easy to find hi-fi systems, so these kissa bars started where people could go listen to jazz on good systems with good speakers. Things changed in the ‘70s when vinyl was more accessible, but these bars have a pretty big spot in Japanese culture.”
Is the sake out of a respect for tradition? Not exactly. “I love wine,” Michelle says, “but it gives me migraines. Doesn’t matter if I drink a glass or a bottle — major migraines. We started diving into sake to check it out: no migraines.”
So they threw together all the stuff they like — booze, coffee, and music (on vinyl, “the way God intended,” says Albert) — and found that plenty enough folks wanted a kissa.
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