By Edward J. Boyer — Aug. 21, 1999

When Duke Ellington had trouble finding a copy of one of his own records, he knew where to look. The same was true for Louis ‘‘Satchmo’’ Armstrong.

They would put in a call to Murray Gershenz, better known as ‘‘Music Man Murray,’’ a used record dealer whose collection is legendary.

A postcard from Armstrong dated July 31, 1968 reads: ‘‘Hi there. Just want to say hello. Any albums that I owe you for, send the bill to my home in Corona N.Y. Regards, Satchmo.’’

Now there are thousands of people who call themselves record collectors. Murray is way beyond their league. He has about 400,000 records–200,000 in a building on Exposition Boulevard near La Brea Avenue in the Mid-Wilshire District. His business is called Music Man Murray, and he lives up to the name.

It makes no difference if the music you are seeking is jazz, rhythm and blues, rock, classical, Latin, opera, folk or something more obscure. Chances are that you will find it on the two floors of records Murray has on Exposition. Or he will find it among the thousands of records he keeps at his home or in two warehouses.

‘‘There probably are larger collections somewhere,’’ Murray says, ‘‘but I don’t know of any in this area. I have a whole stack of African music, Yugoslavian music. You never know what customers are going to ask you for.’’

Murray has customers from Germany, England, South America.

‘‘Many come in and say people told them that when they got to Los Angeles, look up Murray,’’ he says.

He puts a sticker with his store name and location on records he sells, and customers come from around the world because they have seen those stickers.

At a time when most men his age have long since retired, Murray, 77, is still buying and selling records. For as long as he can remember, music has been central to his life.

He sang with the St. Louis opera and later became a cantor at three different Los Angeles area synagogues.

‘‘I have always been interested in music,’’ he says. ‘‘I was always collecting records and sheet music and books about music. When I decided to retire from being a cantor, I opened a shop that sold records and sheet music and books about music.’’

That was in 1962. But little by little, the sheet music and books were squeezed out of his shop.

‘‘The interest in the records overcame everything else,’’ he says. ‘‘So I discontinued the sheet music and the books and stuck to the records.’’

A mischievous smile spreads across his face when Murray recalls how his friends first reacted to his plans to go into the used record business.

‘‘Used records?’’ they asked. ‘‘That’ll never go.’’

His smile broadens.

‘‘Today it’s a world-wide phenomenon,’’ he says. ‘‘I saw it years ago.’’

When Murray started, he stocked his store mainly with classical music ‘‘because that’s what I had. Then a guy comes in and asks: ‘Where’s your jazz?’ I say to myself, ‘I don’t have enough jazz. Better start buying jazz records.’ Someone else walks in and asks for rock ’n’ roll.’’

And that’s how a gargantuan collection is built.

‘‘You have to buy according to what the customers want,’’ Murray says. ‘‘You have to subordinate your own interests, forget about what you like.’’

Many people have kept the records they like, putting them away in attics where they collect dust. Age alone, however, does not give them value, Murray says.

‘‘Ninety-two percent of what’s out there, throw it away,’’ he says. ‘‘It’s junk. Don’t kid yourself. If someone has 100 records and 10 or 20 are worth anything, say, $5, they are lucky. There could be a $100 one in there. But the average one, forget about it.’’

When Murray’s wife of more than 40 years died earlier this year, Murray thought briefly about retiring. He soon changed his mind and decided that he would put those retirement plans on hold. He is training his son Irv, 44, to take over.

Meanwhile, he is at his business five days a week, selling to collectors and finding music for movies and television shows.

‘‘I don’t get much street traffic, but i’m not really looking for that,’’ he says. ‘‘I’m looking for serious people who are looking for me. Everyday I see a record I never saw before. This is only the tip of the iceberg of what has been recorded over the years. There is always something I don’t have that somebody asks for. So I go looking for it.’’ ◼︎

Murray Gershenz began an acting career at age 80 and was most famous for his role as the elderly Felix in “The Hangover.” He  died of a heart attack August 28, 2013  in Hollywood. He was 91.