Tucked into a narrow storefront on Bloomsburg’s East Main Street, Endless Records, run by couple Nick McGaw and Emily Weisburger, is a collection of and homage to physical music.
Sturdy shelves hold rows of books — some new, some foxed with age. Vinyl fills the middle of the room in long wooden bins, sorted alphabetically, with the old beside the new: Bowie next to Big Thief and Coltrane alongside contemporary jazz. One shelf is devoted to local musicians, and beside it is a wall dedicated to classical.
McGaw, an enthusiastic Motown lover, and Weisburger, whose eye for design shaped the store’s look, arrived in Bloomsburg from New York seeking something slower.
“There aren’t record stores in places that aren’t cities,” McGaw said. Growing up in Bloomsburg, he said the only record store at the time had clothes and CDs but not vinyl records. “I thought it would be great to open up a record store back where I am from.”
Thumbing through each vinyl feels like navigating a curated maze, with each twist revealing another era, genre or sound. “The cool thing about recorded music and media is that there is an endless amount of things that have been pressed onto records,” McGaw said when asked about coming up with the name of the record shop.
Living in a College Town
Endless Records opened in 2010 in downtown Bloomsburg. Being in a college town, Endless Records gets a variety of students and local townspeople entering the shop. “I love living in a college town. It’s one of the best places to live in America. It’s big enough to have events and a community but small enough where you can get to know everyone,” McGaw said.
That balance between intimacy and energy shapes the store’s daily rhythm. There are familiar faces and spontaneous conversations, chance encounters that don’t feel accidental. “It’s like living in a novel where everyone is a character and you are bound to run into them wherever you go. You feel like a person in a small town, not just a number,” McGaw said. Weisburger works at CU-Bloomsburg as a fashion and costume designer for the theater department. Since opening, they have grown close to many students and professors at the university, and they even hold some of the professors’ books at their shop.
Running a Small Business as a Couple
“There are many things you learn over the years running a small business. One important thing I have learned is to cater to the people,” McGaw said. When they first opened Endless Records, McGaw said they used to fill the store only with records they enjoyed, but as time went on, they began filling the shelves with a multitude of genres. “Over the years, we have incorporated other worlds of stuff that we may not personally be into, but providing that is doing a world of service,” McGaw said. Now, their selection ranges widely — from indie classics and deep-cut punk to mainstream pop, jazz and genres neither of them listened to a decade ago. It’s a reflection of the town as much as it is of them.
At the heart of the store is a large reception desk cluttered with more books and CDs, where McGaw and Weisburger often sit side by side. Their ease with each other, both as partners and co-owners, is visible in the rhythm of their work. “You get to spend your day with your best friend,” Weisburger said. “If you were working for someone else, you don’t get to offer as many ideas. We are equal here.” McGaw focuses on online ordering of records, while Weisburger handles customer service and social media.
“We are one of the only shops downtown that have physical retail. It’s worthwhile doing something you love even if you aren’t getting super rich,” McGaw said.
Preserving Physical Music
For Nick and Emily, Endless Records is more than a store — it’s a quiet stand against the disposability of digital culture. In an age where songs vanish into invisible playlists and libraries live in the cloud, vinyl offers something with more weight. “In our lifetimes, it’s a niche thing, it’s counterculture, it’s not the culture. Digital streaming is easy and it’s boring,” McGaw said.
The couple sees physical media as a kind of personal archive, something that tells a story about who you are in a way no algorithm ever could. “Objects are cool. It’s fun to go to somebody’s house or apartment and look at their stuff and be able to get to know them. You don’t know anything about anyone from their phone. But you do when you can see their bookshelf or their records.”
“One of the best things that happens at this store is that someone will come in and say that they have never been here before, and the next week they come back with all their friends. It’s a beautiful thing and it exists in the real world.” The next time you find yourself wandering downtown, follow the sound of something unexpected. It might just lead you to a new favorite album and a place that still believes music should be felt, not just heard.