Riff Raff

Since opening, graffiti artists have brought spray cans to decorate the back room, and neighborhood guys have dropped by to recount the building's legacy: Massive cocaine parties, late-night shut-ins, perpetual gang combat, and the occasional bathroom-stall rape. Upstairs, Meyers found a bucket still attached to a rope that drops into a passageway leading to the street. Somehow, the Seven Coins' lurid history adds to the allure of the new store: It's gritty but it feels like home. There's a store cat; the large oak bar, which remains completely intact, adds a comforting, boozy warmth to the place while a single booth remains in the center of the storefront, offering a comfortable place to read liner notes. You can pick up copies of The List, the San Francisco Herald ("The Elvis of free publications"), and any number of band fliers at the door; posters for One Man Army, Incredibly Strange Wrestling, and a slew of Estrus garage-rock bands adorn the walls; vinyl and CD sections provide a little something for everyone -- soundtracks, exotica, hard rock, hip hop, country, and jazz, as well as a large but tasteful assortment of indie and rock. (Mr. Quintron has his own section -- always a good sign.) The only thing missing is beer but, according to Meyers, the building's past would prevent any reissuing of liquor licenses. Hopefully, it will also prevent any hassles over the in-stores. After all, live music is a hell of lot better than nonconsensual sex on a lavatory floor. (S.T.)

Riff Raff riffraff: Robert Arriaga (R.A.), Mark Athitakis (M.A.), Johnny DiPaola (J.D.P.), Silke Tudor (S.T.), and Heather Wisner (H.W.). Send Bay Area music news, band stories, or petty gripes to mathitakis@sfweekly.com, or mail it to Riff Raff, c/o SF Weekly.