On 22nd February 2025 vintage record store Tengu Records opened its doors to Enmore Road. Billy Hagiwara, a second-year software engineer at the University of Sydney has been collecting and selling Japanese wax online for six years before opening the shop. His dad Dave, co-owner of the store, wrote for music magazine Rolling Stone in the mid-80’s, and is also an avid record collector. Billy remembers childhood trips to Japan where his dad would take him record-hunting. The business of owning a record store seemed like a no-brainer: “I don’t know, I just grew up around that sort of thing,” Billy smiled.
For Billy, magic and freedom lie in music and crate-digging. “Music has been a central factor of my life, really,” says Billy. Can he name a favourite artist? I ask. “Bob Dylan. His music is very powerful. He casts spells, almost.” Billy, tall and handsome, seems at first glance quiet and serious. But once talking, the twenty-four year old is full of laughter. As I toured the shop and browsed the collection, Billy gave me the low-down on the story behind the store, some family history, and his dreams for the future. As we spoke, he seemed infused with a somewhat mischievous and undoubtedly keen spirit.
This is perhaps why one finds a Tengu spirit looming large in the window of the store. Six feet tall, leering out at Enmore Road with a bright red face, a long bulbous nose and bulging eyes; this is a powerful Konoha-tengu (tumbling-leaf tengu). The paper mache figure was built by Billy and his family. “My mother is the main artist,” says Billy with pride. That would be Junko Hagiwara, a Tokyo-born artist, and mother to Billy and his brother Shintaro. Billy points to the Tengu spirit’s traditional geta, its tall wooden sandals. “Shintaro built those,” he says with a laugh. Tengu are benevolent and mischievous mountain spirits in Japanese folklore. Tengu are quick to anger and are experts in sword-making and use. Known tricksters, Tengu confuse people who venture deep into the mountains, particularly solitary seeking mountain ascetics, or yamabushi. In the strictly regulated societies of medieval Japan, Tengu represented potential freedom and the upsetting of powers that ruled people’s lives.
“Lots of Japanese names don’t sound great in English, so we were looking for a word that is said easily here.” says Billy, who is fluent in the language. Two weeks before opening, Billy and Shintaro were record-hunting in Shimokitazawa, Tokyo when they came across a giant Tengu poster. “We knew that was it – it’s got a really nice ring to it.”
The store is overlaid with the efforts of his family. Shintaro, a carpenter, built the shelving. Junko, Billy’s mum, also influenced the name of the store. Junko is a watercolour painter from Tokyo. Billy tells me she is invested in Shinto, a Japanese religion that finds its spirit in the natural world. “I’ve grown up with her telling tales of spirits,” he says. The Hagiwara Tengu in the window wears a traditional kimono, passed down from Junko’s mother.
Billy’s father Dave has a share in the business. Working together is a fruitful, almost interesting process, says Billy. “He’s a bit more old-fashioned. I think it’s good… he’s definitely better at interacting with older customers, talking about how things used to be. You can find a middle ground between the way the older generation did it and also appeal to young people and support them for that as well.”
Billy becomes occupied with a customer. I take the opportunity to explore the stacks of vinyl. A crate-digger’s dream, Tengu Records boasts original pressings of jazz, rap/rnb, classic rock, dub and reggae, and much more. Inside the store is small but roomy. Shelving lines the walls to the left and right. The shelves are three crates deep and every one is packed full of records. Billy sorts his vinyl by genre and alphabet. From rock staples across the decades (Beatles, Pink Floyd, Talking Heads, Soundgarden) to various genre deep cuts, the range in Tengu Records is impressive. In ‘Hip-hop’ under ‘B’, I find a 1993 12” pressing of Allah U Akbar / Steal ya ‘Ho from nineties supergroup Brand Nubian (Grand Puba, Lord Jamar, Sadat X).
Billy shows me his favourite record in the store. It’s an original pressing of Japanese psych-rock band’s Anywhere from 1970. Billy holds it up with a sense of reverence. “It’s iconic. So rare to have in the store.” On the cover, four Japanese rockers race down a highway on motorcycles, stark naked. Joe Wilks, fourth-year politics student and housemate of Billy also works the store. Joe designed the Tengu image, including the logo, window detail, and t-shirts. Joe puts on a favourite record. It’s a live bootleg of Joy Division’s Closer from 1980.
The store boasts more than just vinyl. CDs and t-shirts are on display. Framed posters and artworks hang from the walls. Billy holds up a huge three-dimensional rendition of Pink Floyd’s The Division Bell (1994) – Storm Thorgerson’s creation of two giant metal heads conversing in a field in Cambridge. Some of the artwork is for sale and not all of it belongs to Billy. Customers are encouraged to hang things up for sale, granted with approval from the store. Billy tells me it’s a part of what he sees as having a community-centred focus.
I marvel at the range of items available. When prompted about his experience as a collector, Billy admits, “Online there’s less risk. But there’s nothing to do with community. To open the store is a lot more fulfilling.” Billy is proud of his range of second-hand records. He works hard to curate a valuable and exciting collection that he can bring back to Sydney. “Records are not very affordable in Sydney,” he tells me. “Young people find it hard to buy anything. Most records are fifty bucks or over” (on opening day crates were filled with forty-dollar records). A less risky purchase of a sealed pressing is more expensive. But risk is what Billy seems to appreciate. To open a business as a student is a risky venture, I suggest. “I mean, it feels terrifying at times, but also great. This is the age to take risks like this. The way I see it now is the time to do it.”
Tengu Records is open every day of the week from 11:00 am to 7:00 pm. You can follow the store on Instagram @tengurecords39.
