RON MATUSLee Wolfson has found a niche offering a full range of popular and obscure records at his Vinyl Fever store.
SUNSET PARK - In college, Lee Wolfson spent so much time selling vinyl he says he might as well have "majored in record store."
Twenty years later, he's still selling records - only now, he owns the store.
Wolfson, 42, is the music enthusiast behind Vinyl Fever, the South Tampa institution that recently moved to Henderson Boulevard from S Dale Mabry Avenue.
In a music world dominated by corporate chains and big-box stores, Vinyl Fever has managed to thrive by blending mainstream and underground.
You can buy 50 Cent at Vinyl Fever, or the Dave Matthews Band.
You can buy the Cramps, too.
Or Tito Puente. Or a rare Patsy Cline. Or a local band like the Gita.
Vinyl Fever is there for people "who are not necessarily immersed in music and who may just be coming in looking for the latest hit song on the radio," said Wolfson, who lives in Clearwater but spends a lot of time at his South Tampa store. "At the same time, I think we've maintained our weirdo roots."
The store isn't Wolfson's brainchild, but he adopted and nurtured it.
His late brother, Dave, opened a record store in Columbus, Ohio, in 1978 - the one Wolfson worked at in college. Then Dave and a partner opened five others, including the Tampa store in 1981. Lee took over after his brother died in 1987 and now owns the stores in Tampa and Tallahassee. Both carry a rich selection of records and CDs, the stores' mainstay.
The original Vinyl Fever was at Fletcher Avenue and 15th Street, close enough to the University of South Florida to serve students seeking music from then-obscure bands, such as U2 and REM. Wolfson moved it to South Tampa in the late 1980s.
"I don't want to come off sounding snooty, like South Tampa is hipper than North Tampa or something," said Wolfson, whose black T-shirt and jean shorts make him look more like a rock-band roadie than a businessman.
But South Tampa offered new customers - 20- and 30-somethings hankering for hip music and reeling in enough dough to splurge. Wolfson figured the original customers would remain loyal, and they have.
Proof: There used to be a Turtle's Music store across the street from the Dale Mabry store. Not anymore. And soon after the chain bit the dust last summer, Vinyl Fever moved to Henderson to take advantage of more parking and 1,000 additional square feet.
"It's a fight," Wolfson said about fending off corporate competition. "But we continue to do things our way, and people tend to like what we do."
The store ripples with Wolfson's sensibilities.
At home, he devours music magazines. On vacation, he visits other record stores.
As a kid, he was moved by the music of the Clash and Bruce Springsteen, which in turn nudged him toward their influences, including reggae and older rhythm 'n blues. Today, he owns more than 5,000 records and another 1,000 CDs. He never stopped listening, learning and, in a way, teaching.
"I try to turn our customers on, too," he said in his Vinyl Fever office, a stack of records on the floor. If another Springsteen fan comes in, "I can turn them on to something like Eddie Floyd . . . because, oh, Bruce Springsteen covered an Eddie Floyd song."
Vinyl Fever's employees know music, too. They have to. Wolfson gives job applicants a lengthy test which includes dozens of questions, such as Name a member of Wu Tang Clan.
If you can't come up with Ol' Dirty Bastard or one of the rap group's other members, forget about joining the Fever's elite crew.
"Definitely Vinyl Fever would not be the way it is" without Wolfson, said Bob Townsend, a freelance writer in Atlanta who met Wolfson at the Tallahassee store, where they argued about a Velvet Underground reissue. "He exerts his own sort of aesthetic over the way the stores look and act and are."
But, Townsend continued, Wolfson is "also smart enough to know he has to have good, interesting employees. . . You can't know everything."
Besides chain stores, Vinyl Fever must compete with computers. So far, downloading has not hurt his store as much as Wal-Mart, Target and other big-boxes, Wolfson said.
Hard-core music aficionados still buy music, he said.
He's made sure they have a good place to go.
- Ron Matus can be reached at 226-3405 or matus@sptimes.com
Lee WolfsonAGE: 42
JOB: owner, Vinyl Fever
HOME: Clearwater
FAMILY: Son, 9; daughter, 7
LOCAL HAUNTS: Wright's Gourmet House, Lola Jane's Crawfish Inn, Inkwood Books
TOP ALBUM, ROCK: Little Steven & The Disciples of Soul's Men Without Women
TOP ALBUM, COUNTRY: Hank Williams' Just Me and My Guitar
TOP ALBUM, HIP HOP: De La Soul's 3 Feet High and Rising
FAVORITE MUSICIANS: Tom Waits, Bruce Springsteen
DASHED AMBITIONS: Sports announcer, DJ
HOBBIES: Movies