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HERO TO ZERO: THE INEVITABILITY OF DISRUPTION - & THE STORES WHERE MUSIC ONCE LIVED

  • Writer: Amanda Wilson
    Amanda Wilson
  • Oct 10, 2025
  • 4 min read

Updated: 2 days ago

Illustration of a music store scene showing a customer and clerk exchanging an album under the Sounds Music Stores sign, representing NZ’s music retail era.

My Journey in New Zealand's Music Retail Industry


My first substantial marketing role was as Head of Marketing for New Zealand’s largest music retail chain, Sounds.


One minute, we were making and breaking the international careers of rockstars. We launched the careers of homegrown superstars and decided what albums were purchased in what quantities. We showcased music in-store and enjoyed side-stage seats at sold-out concerts. The next minute, we became irrelevant.


Doh.


The Changing Landscape of Music Retail


In those days, it was hard to imagine a future without music stores. There were once queues around the block before a store opened. Music fans lined up to get in or meet their favourite artists when they visited NZ. Now, it’s tricky to explain to my kids that I managed marketing for stores where you bought music. (Huh?) I’m sure it will also be weird to say that we watched television at a pre-programmed time. In my career post-music industry, I was in charge of marketing that time slot. Such is the brutal reality of disruption.


Having a front-row seat to an industry's demise provided invaluable lessons. It left me with an “it will happen” mindset regarding change, rather than “it won’t.” I gained a better understanding of innovation, its sources, and the inevitability of disruption. Importantly, it wasn’t a demise (though it felt like that at the time) but a reshaping. Music stores may not be prevalent anymore, but music itself is. Television may not be a thing at some point soon, but content will always exist. Money is made differently, but those passionate about it remain. Some of those who worked in the music industry during my time still work there, albeit in different roles. The artists, the creators, still make music.


I loved listening to the stories of people being locked in stores by passionate staff insisting they listen to albums in their entirety. I remember the queue around the street the morning after Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” played on Radio with Pictures. Those were the glorious golden days of rock 'n' roll that my bosses would describe to me.


But, just like a $29.99 Sounds Blockbuster sale price, nothing can last forever.


The First Signs of Change


The first clues of what was to come were subtle shifts in distribution. CDs started being sold through gas stations rather than traditional music retailers and “The Warehouse.” I remember the panic around this—these were “not music stores.” The distribution model had changed slightly, but then technology ultimately wiped it out. It took “Now That’s What I Call Music” with it.


The second clues were the ways customers obtained information. Dial-up and early online forums (before social media) took care of this initially. Without fancy listening tools, we had “refusal lists.” Every time someone came into the store and asked for something we didn’t have, it went on a refusal list. We used these hand-drawn scrawls as data points to work out which international artists were causing a rumbling through magazines and so on for young people.


I remember clearly the week in 1999 when there were hundreds of the same name written down—“Eminem.” This was ahead of the labels presenting and certainly ahead of us promoting or radio stations playing him. How did they know about him in NZ? I wondered. But information, online talk, and murmurings were clunkily starting to travel globally. As The Guardian’s Alexis Petridis put it, “Revisiting the years of Eminem’s rise and commercial supremacy—from 1999 to 2004—feels like peering at a distant era, in its own way as remote from and alien to the present as the 1970s or the early 80s seem. There was no social media, no smartphones, no streaming; broadband internet, digital downloads, and reality TV were all novelties.”


The Impact of Technology


In 2001, Apple released the iPod with the tagline, “1,000 songs in your pocket.” The writing on the wall got clearer. If the songs are in your pocket, they’re probably not going to be in our stores.


So, we did what all great music retailers did in those days. We asked, “WWRD?” (What Would Richard Do?), referring to our bible—Richard Branson's famed autobiography, “Losing Your Virginity” (IYKYK).


We dialed up the experience, putting in listening stations so customers could at least listen to music on iPods. We weren’t entirely sure where we were going with this, but we focused on experience rather than the original product (CD/music). We also enhanced staff service and reviews. We emphasized the value of a curated and supported experience. We designed chill-out zones, put in bean bags (just like Richard), and got creative with “added value.” This included an uncleared Metallica Best Of, which we had to recall and crush physically. We painstakingly photographed this process once Metallica's drummer, Lars Ulrich, found out about it. (True story—back then, it wasn't quite comprehended that the internet was global, and even Lars was reading the forums!)


Ads went out reminding people it was illegal to pirate music. A few examples were even made of people. But ultimately, looking back, there was nothing that could be done. The doors of disruption were open, and inevitably, I moved from music to a much safer industry—television. What could possibly go wrong?


The Final Chapter


Incredibly, despite the writing on the wall, Sounds was sold in a lucrative private sale to Blockbuster. They were still peddling VHS tapes and, luckily for the seller, missed the memo about either industry's demise.


Blockbuster entered voluntary administration in 2007.


What a ride.


Conclusion: Embracing Change


The music retail industry has undergone a dramatic transformation. While it may seem like a loss, it is essential to embrace change and adapt to new realities. The passion for music remains, and as we move forward, we must find innovative ways to connect with audiences and provide value. The lessons learned from my time at Sounds continue to resonate, reminding us that disruption is inevitable, but so is the potential for reinvention.

 
 
 

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