The 50 Best Record Stores In America is an essay series where we attempt to find the best record store in every state. These aren’t necessarily the record stores with the best prices or the deepest selection; you can use Yelp for that. Each record store featured has a story that goes beyond what’s on its shelves; these stores have history, foster a sense of community and mean something to the people who frequent them.

Growing up in Alabama can be a conflicting experience. It’s a place where idyllic southern traditions butt roughly against normalized political corruption, poor education rankings, and a bruised past of numerous Civil Rights transgressions. We’ve learned from the past, and we’re better because of it, but we’ve had trouble translating those lessons into a stable present. For every step forward, celebrity creeps like Roy Moore, Robert Bentley and Jeff Sessions push us back. It’s frustrating, because there’s bountiful, beautiful potential here. For starters, Alabama isn’t all NASCAR tracks and hillbilly dense forests. Take I-65 all the way down, and you’ll start to notice the rich and diverse geography that extends from the mountainous, tech hub of Huntsville to the white sand beaches of Gulf Shores. Near the middle of that particular journey, you’ll find yourself in Birmingham. Once ground zero for some of Alabama’s most infamous Civil Rights atrocities, the “Magic City” is now in the middle of a cultural renaissance. It’s doubtful the Washington Post, the Conde Nast Traveler and the Wall Street Journal would have written travelogues exploring downtown 20 years ago like they do now. Architectural restoration efforts, a burgeoning startup culture and lauded foodie scene have recently put Birmingham on the map as a hip southern city — which, luckily, has bled into its growing music scene. On any weeknight, locals in the know can catch a parachute punk show at the space-themed Saturn, a retro basement show at the kitschy dive bar Mom’s Basement or an experimental act at the Spring Street Firehouse.

For so long this wind of change never seemed to extend to the local record stores. The shops are, generally, venerable old favorites with bins that cater more toward the treasure hunting culture of true collectors and crate diggers. That wasn’t just in Birmingham, either. For some, corporate chains like Best Buy, Target or F.Y.E. still offer a greater chance of finding either the latest releases or the base classics of certain genres. Dan Drinkard noticed this obvious oversight almost immediately after moving to Birmingham in the spring of 2013. Originally from Memphis, Drinkard suddenly found himself without access to the hardcore, punk and underground releases he came to rely on from stores like Shangri-La or Goner Records. After getting sick of feeling underwhelmed by his options, Drinkard decided to create a space for what he couldn’t naturally find. “That’s just how I operate in life. Nobody else is going to do things for you, so you gotta fuckin’ do it yourself,” Drinkard said. Luckily, Drinkard had experience introducing new ideas in places steeped in tradition. He spent the majority of his teen years figuring out ways to play punk rock in the Dominican Republic. He later founded his own record label, Fat Sandwich, so he could release his and other friends’ music. On November 3, 2013, just a little over six months after his initial move, Drinkard opened Seasick Records, proudly named after track four on the Jesus Lizard’s 1991 noise rock classic, Goat. Thanks to five years of loyal community support and numerous in-stores, Seasick, located in Birmingham’s Crestwood neighborhood, is an absolute breath of fresh air for music enthusiasts — a rare haven for fans of all genres to browse, share and talk shop. “I think many of us are who are really into this, we’re very grateful to have it here, and we try our best to support it and make sure it’s healthy and growing and it continues,” said Jim Johnson, a record collector who’s lived in the Birmingham area for over 20 years. “Because, there have been times in Birmingham’s history where we didn’t have a lot music venues, a lot of record stores — it’s now turned around.”