Elbow to Elbow
Crate Diggin’ at the Roosevelt Hotel
by John Carraro
Busta Rhymes (in hat) and John Carraro (at the turntable).
It is no small privilege to have been invited to share with you the story of New York’s legendary record conventions that were held at Manhattan’s Roosevelt Hotel located at E. 45th Street. It may be by sheer coincidence or destiny itself, but this seems to be the appropriate time for ruminations and memories to be resurrected.
This is the tale of a convention where for a few sacred seasons, a certain magic was in the air as dreams were realized and friendships made. The Roosevelt was much more than just a big room filled with people looking for what they wanted. It was a show that for a few seasons actually helped to influence people’s lives and the music that some would create. So let us wind up our metronomes and begin with how it all came to fruition.
Dexter Campbell was a bright young entrepreneur with an idea and a dream. Although there were already many such conventions in and around the tri-state area, Dexter had a game plan that would make all the others pale by comparison. Even though Dexter was on fire with determination, he was able to govern his enthusiasm before jumping headfirst into action. He carefully and quietly went around to the existing shows and took notes on what he needed to do to insure success. Once that mission was completed, he approached and recruited some of the best dealers he had met, including myself. He invited us all to meet with him in the room he had in mind at the Roosevelt. With that handful of dealers, he created the core and gave us the date for the first groundbreaking show. It was an exciting day and, without question, an initial success. The buzz was out and the subsequent shows saw attendance rise, and Dexter accordingly invited more dealers to fill the new tables he had set up. Before the end of the first year, there wasn’t an empty table in the room.
T-Ray, Jacqui Carraro, and John.
As for myself, I was already a popular dealer selling mostly sweet soul and funk LPs and 45s (or sevens as they were called in Great Britain). And, as fate would have it, I was fortunate enough to secure a corner spot in the room. I was also the only one that had an operational window, which allowed me to let in fresh air to cool off the heat that was produced from the amount of bodies and the fever that would climb higher with each new show. I began to notice that many customers were bringing portable turntables and always looking for a certain spot on 45 after 45. I wasn’t sure what they were looking for, but I was determined to find out. It was at this time that I met a young producer named Todd Ray (aka T-Ray).
