Below Zero

by Sam Soule, for pdxguide.com

If you haven't heard of Below Zero, you're not alone.

When it comes to shops in Portland's burgeoning re-sale circuit, this haphazardly arranged market for second hands goods is definitely "below the radar."

But Below Zero is worth checking out, especially if you still haven't found that special odd something for the surly gutter punk or music-obsessed vinyl fetishist on your holiday gift list--this easily missed storefront near the intersection of MLK Jr. Blvd and NE Freemont may be just you're ticket.

Holidays notwithstanding, Below Zero is a cool spot to check out any time of the year. It also happens to be a pretty wild and unique place to chance upon live music. More on that later.

Below Zero owner Joe Mendez quietly opened his shop four months ago--emphasis on "quietly." This tall, soft-spoken California native spent thåe last three years in Boston surviving a failed attempt to open a record shop. Today he is making a business of maintaining a discreet retail posture with Below Zero. Chalk it up, in part, to wisom.

Mendez is not of a mind to draw undo attention to himself or Below Zero. Situated on a fairly rough stretch of Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd., Mendez makes a point of not buying wares that could rouse law enforcement suspicion of having been stolen, nor does he sell items that might the attention of would-be stick-up artists. That means no tools, electronics, or jewelry.

No, it's music, chiefly, then paperbacks, videos, and a smattering of lifestyle accessories--items with a devil's flair all, and all on the cheap--that constitute the stock and trade of Below Zero.

This store's secretive nature can also be credited to a retail philosophy of romantic isolationism. Mendez is an ardent product of the DIY underground punk culture of the last twenty years, the kind of scene that requires it's most integrity-minded participants (i.e., the unemployed) to experience independently produced music by surviving on societies' material cast-offs.

According to Mendez, Below Zero exists on a frontier plane similar to a "wild frontier," and thusly plays it safe, close to his chest, confident that word of mouth is all that he needs to get his special-interest goods into into knowing and appreciative hands.

Mendez likes people and hates the internet. Advertising cost to much, in his mind, both financially and ethically. He's a man who wants to stand by virtue of his own two feet. Mendez realizes this is not an oft-travelled retail route.

"I'd rather I did my own way," Mendez explains. "I feel better about it like that. I don't charge that much."

Not everything is "quiet" about Below Zero, nor is all the music to be had there recorded. Keep an eye out for black-and-white photo copied flyers advertising live music happening in-store--the back third of the shop has been sectioned off as a performance space. On a sporadic basis, the shop lights are turned off and a tip jar is passed while local and touring punk bands let loose on Below Zero's one-foot high stage.

According to Mendez, Below Zero is hardly a typical venue for bands.

"It's not a clubby atmosphere. It's not a place to get exposure."

Hardly.

Not that one is ever given the impression that Below Zero is anything as boring as "typical." The store is something of an anachronism really, a time-lost, punk-minded haven for artifacts loaded with integrity and character.

A shop very much worth the time of anyone looking for good ands wares sold with a truly alternative perspective.

The opinions expressed within are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of pdxguide.com or The Columbian Publishing Co.