Shall We Download Woolworths For Old Times Sake?

It might be the holidays – the traditional season of goodwill - but at every turn on the high street there’s nothing but misery and gloom. What is it with people? In the run up to Christmas I was in Woolworths – half on the hunt for a present, and half out of sheer intrigue as to how administration had affected the place – and, except for the two teenagers who had mistaken the pic’n’mix for an all-you-can-eat buffet, it was like a morgue.

In one isle, a brand new, unpackaged JML Beauty Wand lay abandoned on the floor - evidently, the 75% discount (and the shelf) wasn’t enough for someone. Meanwhile, in the stationery section, a thoroughly miserable looking woman debated which pencil case to buy from the twenty-five or so on offer. After picking up and putting down a few, she walked out the shop (I can only imagine to hang herself).

I stuck with it though – until, that is, I came to the music section. I say music; in reality it was a badly stocked selection of Top-40 albums, forgotten LPs from the late 90s (yes, even Aqua) and a curious looking Frank Sinatra ‘best of’ that, on closer inspection, was actually a covers album sung by a session musician from Bradford. It was quite amusing (not to mention cleverly disguised) but sad, very sad.

Of course, what isn’t funny is the 27,000 Woolworths employees that will find themselves out of work on January 5th (that is, if their store hasn’t closed already). And, I’m sure the festive family meal was probably no laughing matter for Zavvi’s - formerly Virgin Megastore’s - 2,500 staff either, after the company fell into administration on Christmas Eve. I don’t know, two high street stalwarts balancing on the bring of closure in the space of two months – no wonder everyone’s so miserable.

But should we be surprised? In the case of Woolworths and Zavvi, I’m certainly not. Musically, they’ve been doomed ever since a Boston college student invented a piece of software in the late 90s that allowed his friends (and, soon enough, the world) to share music with each other for free.

And if that wasn’t a big enough wake up call, while more complex (and legal) digital alternatives - iTunes, Amazon MP3, 7Digital, etc… - have continued to enable people to download music in seconds to PCs, portable MP3 players and phones, Woolies have remained rooted in the analogue world. They’ve stubbornly persisted (until recently) to bring us singles on CDs; offered us disorganised shelves packed with the albums from artists’ back-catalogues that no one likes or even remembers; and, lest not forget, sold us unusual ‘best ofs’ for £3. The music (and, to a certain extent, film) sections of these stores died long before the current global financial crisis.

Add to this the boom in high street metro-supermarkets that offer everything Woolworths’ does (including music) only cheaper and you’ve got a cocktail for, well, administration.

It’s a pity we can’t download Woolworths for old times sake. Of course, in these times of individual downloads and blog remixes made in the bedrooms of aspiring producers, we wouldn’t download the whole thing, just a few bits of junk to keep as nostalgic memories. Personally, I’d like the Fizzy Bubblegum Bottles from the pic’n’mix section and the chance to download a few tracks by that Bradford session singer onto my iPod. After all, if 2009 is really going to be the grim year that’s predicted, we should all be doing our upmost to savour every last laugh.