
The unlikely first Incubator record shop came about through a confluence of weird events. We'd rented artist space upstairs in the old Rainier Bottle Exchange building for $200. Then my girlfriend and I were run over in a crosswalk, which netted us a small settlement. We quit our clerk jobs at Cellophane Square records, and I ordered a lot of imports to start the record shop.
Reflecting Stars

Each place is a pathway to all others.
The building was dark and extremely dusty when we first started constructing our quarters. The front doors were hanging loosely, but were chained shut and padlocked through the broken panes. Only street vagrants, entering via the dangling fire escapes, had used the upstairs during the prior decades. There was no electricity and no running water either. The building stood as a relic from a time when gas lighting was still in use in Seattle. The second and third floors upstairs in the building, consisted of generously large abandoned apartments which had been occupied after World War II. Wallpaper was peeling everywhere from the walls, and pigeons roosted on the burned rafters of a blackened corner apartment which fire had claimed sometime in the past. Everywhere there was thick dust and detritus, rubble and junk. Many of the exterior windows had long since been smashed out by sheer exposure to weather and the vandalism of the international district.
Incubator
The second logo

Photo by John Hubbard
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