When Mark Szafranski bought the building at 117 West Broad Street in 1991, the property was in disrepair. Water seeped from the upper floors, the windows were falling in, and downtown Richmond was, at the time, more forgotten than revitalized. But Szafranski, a musician—not a developer—saw possibility in the neglect.
He was playing accordion across the street when a “For Sale By Owner” sign appeared. He took it as both an invitation and a challenge. Soon after, he bought the building, fixed the roof, opened a music shop, and slowly built a life around it.
For a time, it worked.
Metro Sound & Music Co. became a reliable outpost for Richmond’s working musicians. The shop offered strings and rentals, used guitars, last-minute gear fixes—and something harder to find now: honest, knowledgeable guidance. Szafranski and his staff, all musicians themselves, were more interested in getting customers what they needed than upselling them on what they didn’t.
But 35 years in, Metro Sound is facing a quieter threat: it’s being edged out not by competition, but by the changing city around it.
A City Evolves, and a Store Loses Its Place
One of the clearest disruptions came with the Pulse Bus Rapid Transit line, a city initiative designed to modernize Broad Street. In the process, the store’s curbside loading zone—where musicians once parked to grab gear before shows—was eliminated. What replaced it, Szafranski says, was a bus stop and a parking challenge.
“They moved our zone around the corner near Quirk,” he said, referring to a nearby hotel. “But it’s always full. And nobody parked there is shopping here.”
Behind the shop sits a private lot—paid parking every day except Sunday, when Metro is closed. Nearby, a city-owned parking deck reserved largely for the police remains mostly empty. Szafranski has lobbied for it to be opened to nearby businesses and their patrons. But like many promising ideas in Richmond, the conversation has stalled.
“It’s not like we’re asking for miracles,” he said. “Just give people a way to get in the door.”
He points to Carytown as a successful model. “They built a parking deck and told customers, ‘Buy something, and we’ll validate your parking.’ It worked. People came.”
The Last Independent
Metro Sound now stands as the only full-service, locally owned music store of its kind in Richmond. Fan Guitar & Ukulele remains in the Fan District, but Metro is the only spot where musicians can find equipment, rentals, repairs, and expertise under one roof.
Its competition is no longer just across town—it’s on every screen. Customers still visit the store to test instruments, Szafranski said, but many leave only to purchase the same gear online, lured by free shipping and a few dollars saved.
“We match prices,” said Andy, who works the front counter and runs the store’s social media accounts. “But that doesn’t seem to matter.”
There are some things the internet can’t replicate. No app tells a beginner they’re overspending on a keyboard they don’t need. No algorithm offers advice from someone who’s played on stage, made mistakes, and learned from them.
This, Szafranski argues, is Metro Sound’s value. A space not just for sales, but for guidance—for trust. But that only matters if customers can still walk through the door.
Still Fighting to Stay Heard
Metro Sound continues to adapt. The store now rents out full drum kits, guitars, and amps—equipment larger retailers like Guitar Center typically avoid. It’s reestablishing ties with local venues like The Camel and The National, aiming to become the go-to spot for last-minute gear and musician emergencies.
There’s a bulletin board for flyers. The staff reposts local shows on Instagram. And if necessary, Szafranski might even revive his old late-night hotline—a throwback to the days when musicians could call after hours in need of a cable, an amp, or simply someone who understood.
What separates Metro from the larger chains, Szafranski says, is simple: they care. And that, he admits, is part of the problem. You can’t easily monetize care.
He’s not asking for a handout. Just for basic things—like functional parking. And maybe a city that remembers who was here when no one else was.
In 2017, Szafranski was profiled as a Broad Street success story: the local business owner who took a chance on a blighted block and helped transform it. But now, the very signs of progress he helped inspire—the murals, the development, the branding—may be what forces him to shut down.
“If the businesses that made this area worth saving can’t survive here,” he said, “then what’s the point?”
Support RVA Magazine. Support independent media in Richmond.
In a world where corporations and wealthy individuals now shape much of our media landscape, RVA Magazine remains fiercely independent, amplifying the voices of Richmond’s artists, musicians, and community. Since 2005, we’ve been dedicated to authentic, grassroots storytelling that highlights the people and culture shaping our city.
But we can’t do this without you. A small donation, even as little as $2 – one-time or recurring – helps us continue to produce honest, local coverage free from outside interference. Every dollar makes a difference. Your support keeps us going and keeps RVA’s creative spirit alive. Thank you for standing with independent media. DONATE HERE.
You can also show your support by purchasing our merch HERE.
