On a Tuesday morning in late March, Gary Slaby was already behind the counter at Looney Tunes Records & More on Tallmadge Avenue, sorting through a cardboard box of LPs someone had dropped off the day before. It was maybe nine-fifteen. The store doesn’t open until ten, but Gary’s almost always there before that, going through records the way some people go through the newspaper — deliberately, without hurry, like the information matters.
Looney Tunes has been on Tallmadge, in Akron’s near-east side, since the early 1990s. It’s a real record shop in the plainest sense: floor-to-ceiling shelves, bins organized by genre and then by artist, a glass case up front with the more valuable stuff — original pressings, sealed copies, things Gary has held back because he knows what they’re worth and he’s not going to let them go for nothing. The store also carries CDs, cassettes, DVDs, and a rotating assortment of music memorabilia, but vinyl is clearly the main event.
Gary has been doing this long enough that he’s seen the format nearly die and come back. He’s not sentimental about it in a precious way. He’ll tell you records are selling better now than they were fifteen years ago and then shrug, like he always figured they would. He buys collections constantly — estate sales, people cleaning out their parents’ houses, the occasional musician offloading gear — and the inventory turns over in ways that make it worth coming back every few weeks. You won’t find the same store twice.
The prices are fair, which is worth saying plainly because it’s not always true at independent record shops. Common titles in decent shape run three to eight dollars. Better pressings or sought-after albums in the ten-to-twenty range. The glass case stuff goes higher, and Gary will talk you through why if you ask. He’s not a hard sell. He’ll tell you honestly if something’s overpriced and he’ll tell you if the pressing you’re holding is worth more than the sticker says.
The store draws a mix of people. Older collectors who’ve been coming in since before streaming existed. College students still building their first setups. The occasional serious buyer who drives in from Cleveland or Canton because they know Gary gets good collections. On a busy Saturday — Record Store Day especially — the place fills up fast. If you want first pick, get there early. Gary opens at ten and the line is sometimes out the door.
What makes Looney Tunes different from the increasingly curated, lifestyle-forward record shops that have opened in cities over the last decade is that it doesn’t perform anything. There’s no espresso bar, no rotating art on the walls, no editorial curation by aesthetic. It’s a working record store run by someone who has spent his adult life knowing music and knowing what records are worth. That’s the whole pitch.
The shop is at 1433 Tallmadge Ave., easy to find and free to park. Hours run Tuesday through Saturday, ten to six, closed Sunday and Monday. Bring cash if you have it — Gary takes cards, but cash moves faster and he appreciates it. Don’t be afraid to ask him what came in recently. That’s where the real finds tend to be.
