It's impossible for me to avoid tripping over superlatives when describing this unique shop on the corner of Greenwood and 72nd Street. Beats and Bohos (as in Beatniks and Bohemians) is a museum of cultural curios, all finely curated and tastefully displayed with the eclectic countercultural vibe of its namesakes. No larger than a local bodega, it's a marvel in the economy of its design--simply amazing in the sheer volume of stuff displayed without clutter or hindrance to a curious, free-roaming bargain hunter.
And as for bargains, they're all over the place in beguiling array--starting with the bins of collectible vinyl in all genres at the entryway for a couple of bucks a pop, before you even get inside. Once inside, this lifelong discophile and record and bookstore habitue went wild with anticipation on seeing the bins of choice vinyl lined up in the center of the store, from jazz and blues to classical and spoken arts, and everything in-between. And all in primo condition and reasonably, if not bargain priced--affordable even for this retired geyser living on a very modest fixed income. Like the archival '30s recordings of Alberta Hunter I picked up for $5, or the boxed set of five 7" lps of Leonard Bernstein's Young People's Concerts--a steal at $3. I finally left the store at closing with an armful of vinyl after a couple of hours of immense pleasure flipping through a fraction of the stock.
When I returned several days later and was able to unglue myself from the record bins and look around, I felt a bit like a fascinated tourist at a special exhibition at the local museum: shelves of selectively chosen books neatly arranged by category--literature and the arts, Black history, psychology, etc.,
and again, priced below what you'd pay at an established used bookstore. Like outstanding Nature field guides, for example, in primo condition at a third of their list price. Then the racks of hip vintage clothing and hats; a set of designer dinnerware; even a few pieces of fine audio equipment--a double cassette recorder, a tuner, a set of headphones.
In the end, what sets this shop apart from bargain joints like Goodwill and poshly-priced Vintage salons is an unbeatable combination: not just great prices, but most of all, the fine, discerning eyes of B&B's proprietors, who found these treasures and, with care and ingenuity, displayed them so tastefully.
To continue gushing on would be to risk destroying the sheer pleasure and delight in discovery that awaits the uninitiated; or what the Yankees catcher and sometime pundit lamented about his favorite restaurant: "Nobody goes there anymore, it's too crowded" read more
