INTERVIEW : BAGGARYDDIM
Interview by : FX Rougeot
Pictures by : FX Rougeot / DR
on Tuesday, July 08th 2014 - 10 553 views
On 31 December 2013, Nicolas Bonin (Nico to the people of Rouen) pulled down the shutter on the Baggaryddim shop, at 72 rue Beauvoisine, on the right bank in Rouen. He had opened "Bagga", his "dream" inspired by his travels in England, in 1998.
Today, Nico continues his show Daktary, now thirty years old, on the Rouen radio station RC2 (available on MixCloud, editor's note), and keeps the sound system of the same name active.
This 48-year-old from Upper Normandy looks back for us on the history of the shop. Although the closure of Baggaryddim marks the end of a fine adventure, Nico prefers to tell it without bitterness, but with the feeling of a nicely drawn trajectory. His own way of "breaking down the walls" ("Break Down The Walls"), as the late Mikey Dread, his favourite artist, used to sing.
Reggaefrance / What made you open a reggae shop?
Baggaryddim / It was a dream, it's always been a dream. I used to go to England to buy records, and I wanted to do the same thing. I set up straight away on rue Beauvoisine, in Rouen. I opened the shop in October 1998. Before that, I did lots of odd jobs, mostly as a radio engineer, at radio stations in Rouen. I'd started on the radio on the Daktary show, on FMR, in 1984. I must have done the show for six months, and then they hired me part-time. They trained me as an engineer.
You already had a foot in music, too...
As I told you, I started in sound on the radio, with Daktary. Afterwards I joined the band Les Warriors, who were Rouen's flagship band from the mid-80s until 1990. I joined the band as a percussionist, then I moved on to drums. On the sound system side, we must have done parties like that, but it really got going around 1995. At the same time, when I opened Baggaryddim, it was also to supply the sound system. Rather than buying records, you might as well buy some so everyone can benefit.
Did the public respond straight away?
At the start, it was tough. People would come in and not know anything. I'd brought in things that were a bit too niche, and most people said to me “But we don't know any of this!” Or else people didn't understand what the shop was. They'd walk in and ask: “So what is this, a bar? Do you lend the records out, do you rent them?” People would press themselves against the window and look in. Some didn't dare come in at all; they'd walk past, walk past again, and in the end never come in. The 45s, though, did very well right from the start. Originally I only brought those back from London. Before opening Baggaryddim, I had a mate who had a record shop in the 80s, and I'd go with him to London to pick the reggae for him. We'd go to Jet Star, and Rough Trade, another shop that did reggae and rock as well.
 T'as vu le nombre de magasins fermés en ville ? Les modes de consommation changent. 
So you must have had to change register to keep the customers happy?
Yeah, yeah. I still brought back the niche stuff, but I tried to take more classics too. Every Bob Marley album, for example. You sell those all the time. There are albums like that… “War Inna Babylon” by Max Romeo, albums by the Twinkle Brothers, like “Countrymen”. You can stock them, they sell all the time. Or the first Congos album, “Heart of the Congos”.
Was your business more built on selling 45s or albums?
No, no, it was all one. At the start, I sold more vinyl than CDs. (He thinks.) Yeah, actually, that was always the case. As for CDs, what sold well was all the mixtapes in the 2000s: Jah Kingdom, Fighta Sound…
What made you close the shop?
It wasn't selling enough. It had been like that for a while, even if there had been a few rebounds. And I didn't see any dramatic improvement that would make it really worth carrying on. Four years ago, I already wanted to stop. Then things picked up a bit the following year. And then last year, it went back to how it was before.
How do you account for this decline?
The internet had a lot to do with it, at the beginning. Then, after a few years, people started to get fed up with it and came back to the shops a bit. There's also the fact that lots of people sell records these days. More and more. Private individuals, sound systems that buy from the distributors and sell around them, including on the internet. And then there were no more releases. No more releases from Jamaica. Because before, in the 45 series, you'd find 8 or 10 tracks on the same instrumental. There were guys who'd come in, they wouldn't browse, they'd take the whole series.
Did you think about rethinking your business model?
Yes, I tried, towards the end. I diversified a lot to sell clothes and accessories, rolling papers, for example. That was going well, but the vinyl was selling less well. The 45 market is a small market to begin with. There's not much margin. But now, the base price of a 45 is 6 euros retail. I'd buy it for half that, or a bit more. Whereas back then, the retail price was 4 euros. When you bought it in Jamaica, you managed to make a bigger margin. A bit more than half the retail price.
Do you see the closure as a logical development?
Yeah, yeah. It's no surprise. Look at Patate (the Paris record dealer Patate Records, ed.), I've known him since I opened the shop. At the start, he told me: “You'll see, in 20 years' time, shops will be finished.” He's still open, and I don't think he's going to close.
And selling online?
So many people sell on the internet… You had to get set up early on. Even some big German sites have closed, like African Beat. They had I don't know how many records left…
Who have you welcomed into your shop?
All the people we brought over here (for concerts, ed.) came by the shop: Rod Taylor, Ranking Joe, Lone Ranger, Tony Roots, the King Shiloh guys… There must be a few others, I can't remember. Apart from that, it once happened that a Jamaican artist just walked past in the street. (He thinks.) I can't remember his name… He had 45s to sell, he had his productions on him. I bought some from him. That story was from the early days of the shop.
With Rod Taylor in front of the shop
You sold a lot of roots. Did you suffer from the popularity of dancehall in the 2000s?
Nah. There's always an audience for roots. It runs from 18 to 50 years old. Roots is a safe bet, whereas dancehall, for me, never was. Back then, I sold every dancehall series. But in the long run, roots is what you'll always sell. Whereas dancehall, I had loads of it in the sale bins. It goes out of fashion as fast as it comes into fashion.
Which artists move you the most?
Mikey Dread, first of all, I think. Because he has a style of his own, he has a really distinctive groove. And he's a really cool guy. Otherwise, Dr. Alimantado. Generally speaking, what I like best are the deejays. When they're producers or sound engineers too. I love Lee Perry, for example. Mikey Dread and Dr. Alimantado were producing their own music almost from the start. They produced other people too. It's more of an overall thing, not just the singing. And besides, they're all people with a conscious message. I love Tony Roots too. He's a guy who should be much better known than he is. There are always artists I like. In the 2000s? Sizzla, I love him.
Sizzla from which period?
From all the time. He's made loads of albums with a lot of rubbish on them, but I know he'll always do one track that makes me love it. And I like the character, despite all the controversies. He looks quite tough. Well, after that, it's all interpretation, you know. For me, he's a real artist, he doesn't run out of steam, compared with everyone else of the same generation. The Anthony Bs, the Capletons, it's dropped off, you know. Sizzla, there's another album that's just come out (He is referring to “Radical”, ed.). Well, it's only old unreleased material, but even the one before, “The Messiah”, there were great tracks on it. And I saw that he did a concert in Jamaica where he sings on stage with Lee Perry. Me, being a Lee Perry fan… You can really see that Sizzla respects Lee Perry, whereas there are plenty of youngsters who, when they see Lee Perry coming, laugh. After Sizzla, it can wear me out, but I like the artist. He has a pretty complete concept around his thing.
Who gave you the reggae bug?
When I was young, I listened to rock, punk. Then there was the Madness wave, Two Tone, the Specials, all that. My sister had a live album by the Specials, and that's what got me hooked. It was ska tinged with punk, and a bit of rock too. Then I looked for the original versions of the tracks they covered. I started with ska. Really in order, you know. Ska, rocksteady. Then it was the turn of the deejays: U-Roy, I-Roy, Big Youth, Tappa Zukie.
Which concerts really left their mark on you?
Culture, the first time I saw them. It was at the Exo7. It transported me. What's more, back then I recorded concerts on a Walkman. Afterwards, for a week, I'd listen to the cassette of the concert. I listened to nothing else! I was 17 or 18, around then. They were young too. And back then, concerts meant a full band: you'd have guitar, sometimes two, percussion, horns. Then, in the 90s, it got stripped back. In that period, concerts were critical. Otherwise, we also went to Paris regularly: back then it was mostly La Mutualité. Later, the Bataclan. (He thinks.) I also remember Burning Spear, at the Notting Hill carnival, in 1988, around then. It was the first concert I saw in England. Crazy atmosphere! You couldn't even hear the band any more, with the whistles, the foghorns, people shouting. I'd never seen anything like it, it drowned out the music. I did the carnival five or six years in a row. I saw a transition: the first years I went, there were bands playing. Later, no more bands! I remember, there was a spot at the top of Portobello Road, where there's a little park and a stage, and the bands followed one another over the two days: Bim Sherman, Misty in Roots, Aswad, Akabu… All the London bands, you know.
Coming back to your radio show, what made you start it?
A mate of mine went to London every month or every two months and brought us back recordings of David Rodigan's radio shows on Capital Radio. That's what got us started on radio. We were fans of that, of the presenting. Rodigan always put in little jingles in between, which the deejays made for him. We wanted to do the same thing. Back then, everything was on cassette. Our first shows, we recorded them on 120-minute tapes. I've got tons and tons of cassettes! I listen to them all the time. You can take them apart and stick them back together when they're broken! (laughs)
With U-Roy at the Exo 7 in 1984, on the occasion of a concert by The Warriors
Do you see Rodigan as a forerunner?
Yes. He's one of the first white guys to have done that. For years, I didn't know he was white! (He laughs.) He played a lot of classics. On the cassettes we had, he didn't talk much, in the end. Every 3 or 4 tracks he announced the tunes, but otherwise it was jingles. He had every deejay who passed through make jingles. In the end, it was Mikey Dread who did that first. Because the first radio show on Jamaican radio was presented by Mikey Dread, in the early 80s. Rodigan took up the same principle again with the jingles. Because Mikey Dread wasn't allowed to speak. The condition for him doing the show was that he wasn't allowed live broadcasting. So he recorded loads of jingles. Mikey Dread worked as a technician-engineer at JBC, and at night the radio shut down. He said: “Well, I'm happy to take the night slot.” And they set that as a condition. Two years running, he was voted top radio personality, even though he never spoke! There was a lot of jealousy, all that. Afterwards he stopped, then moved into production. But his first track must have been a jingle. It was King Tubby who said to him: “No, you develop that a bit, it makes you a track!”.
What's your biggest seller?
In albums, Bob Marley. Or “Heart of the Congos” by the Congos, maybe. In 45s, all the classics. Ganja Smuggling by Eek-a-Mouse, for example. Some things sell all the time. And not only to deejays. I'm sure there are plenty of people who have more records than some deejays. How many tunes do I have at home? Not that many. I must have 1,000 albums and 1,000 45s. But at the start, before the shop, I only bought albums. I didn't really know 45s. Today, I only mix with 45s or maxis. I play old school, with a single turntable. I want to keep that old-school thing going. Announcing the tracks, talking in between, adding an effect.
Has there always been a reggae audience in Rouen?
Since I started, yeah. And there was one before me, already. I was the first reggae shop in Rouen, and nobody set up after me. There isn't room. Then there are second-hand record dealers who sell everything. In the 80s, when I started on the radio, every day of the week there was a reggae show. Well, at the same time, it was the boom in free radio.
How did people react when you closed?
They were sickened, sad. I closed at the end of the year, at the end of my lease. On 31 December. At the end, I held a sale, and it was busy. I was a bit fed up, too, with being in the shop every day, with the same view. There was a really difficult period 3 or 4 years ago. At one point, the net became hugely important. Everybody was buying online. Downloading, yes, that hit CDs, but not vinyl. I think people who buy records do it partly to have the object too.
Do you think you'll open a new shop one day?
I'd like to, but not right away. In a few years… And then, with the economic climate as it is, for business anyway… Have you seen how many shops have closed in town? Consumption habits are changing.
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