The kind of store you find on every block in parts of Manhattan, Blue Note has dusty bins that are potential treasure troves. There's always some schmuck who bought the new Ghostface expecting hip-pop, or the Minor Threat discography because the guys from Good Charlotte mentioned them in an interview. These people can't handle musical truth, and because they have rushed to Blue Note and unloaded their barely used goods, you can capitalize on their bad taste. The only thing wrong with Blue Note is that visiting the store is a reminder that Miami lacks more like it.
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