This Two-Story Texas Record Shop Is Packed With Thousands Of Vintage Records, And Digging The Crates Is Half The Fun

I can walk past a clothing sale without blinking, but put a crate of used records in front of me and I lose an hour. Every sleeve is a small gamble. That is the whole appeal, and I refuse to apologize for it.

Which is why Sig’s Lagoon in Houston’s Midtown has been sitting on my list for far too long. Two floors, bins on every wall, and that old-cardboard smell that hits the second the door swings open.

Below, I will walk you through both floors, the odd treasures shelved between the records, the neighbors that make it a whole evening, and the story behind that strange name.

Downstairs: Fresh Wax and Friday Drops

Sig’s Lagoon sits on the 3600 block of Main Street, across from the Continental Club, in a stretch locals call Mid Main. It is the only record store in Midtown, and it looks the part from the sidewalk.

The ground floor is where the new vinyl lives. Rows of bins run the length of the room, sorted by genre, with the week’s new releases racked up front every Friday. Reissues of classic albums share space with brand new pressings.

Rock is the deepest section by a mile. You will also find soul, jazz, hip hop, country and Latin, plus a serious run of Texas artists, because this is a Houston shop and it acts like one.

The store says its stock runs past 100,000 titles once you count both floors. I have no way to count that myself, but every account I have read agrees on one thing: you will not get through it in a single visit.

Look low as well as high. Discount bins are scattered through the room, and that is where the bargains hide. My rule in any record shop is that the bottom crate gets checked first, because nobody else bothers.

The shop also stocks 7-inch singles and even a rack of 8-tracks, which I did not think anyone still sold. If you have a vintage player gathering dust, this is your excuse to plug it back in.

Upstairs: The Sundance Annex

Climb the stairs and the room changes character. This is the used floor, and it has a name of its own: the Sundance Records annex.

The records up here came from one of the most loved music shops in Texas history, and I will get to that story in a minute. First, the crates.

For now, picture long crates of used LPs, a mix of the fifty-cent workhorses and the sleeves that make a collector’s hands go still. One reviewer, Alicia H., summed it up in a line I keep thinking about: “The second floor is such a great touch.”

The organization surprises people. Used records in most shops mean chaos. Here they are filed by genre and alphabetized like the new stock downstairs. Mary S., writing in late 2025, put it plainly: “The records are exceptionally well organized.”

Take your time up here. Pull a sleeve, read the liner notes, tilt the vinyl in the light and look for scuffs. Owner Tomas Escalante has said that “part of the experience of being in a record store is digging through crates,” and the upstairs is built for exactly that.

Walls That Read Like a Music Textbook

Once your fingers need a rest, look up. The walls and even the ceiling are covered in promotional posters, album art and original newspaper clippings that mark big moments in music history. Escalante described it as more than forty years of pop culture, placed with purpose rather than at random.

So a poster for a 1970s Texas tour sits beside the news story that ran the week it happened. A concert flyer hangs near the review that followed. You could spend a visit reading the walls and never touch a record, though I would not recommend that.

Much of this memorabilia arrived in 2012 along with the used records, packed in boxes from the Sundance collection. Some of it had hung in San Marcos for decades before it ever saw Houston.

Tiki Mugs, Bobbleheads and Other Odd Treasures

Records are the main event, but Sig’s Lagoon started life with a wider brief. When it opened, the idea was a gift shop with a strong music side, and that DNA is still visible on the shelves between the bins.

You will find tiki mugs, bobbleheads, band T-shirts, music books and art prints, including work by lowbrow artist Derek Yaniger. There is a whole corner of Houston-themed goods, the kind of thing you grab for a friend who moved away and still misses the city.

My personal weakness would be the tiki mugs. The owner sings in a Houston exotica band called Clouseaux, whose 2004 album was titled Lagoon, so the tropical lounge streak running through the shop is no accident.

The shop also sells tickets for local shows, which makes sense given who its neighbors are. Esther S. wrote about the “large variety of records and plethora of fun items,” and she was not exaggerating.

Why Is It Called a Lagoon?

The name confused me at first. There is no water anywhere near Main Street. The answer sits on a bookshelf: a 1955 book called Sig Byrd’s Houston, written by a newspaper columnist named Sigman Byrd.

Byrd (1909 to 1987) wrote a column called The Stroller for the old daily Houston Press from the late 1940s into the early 1960s, and later for the Chronicle.

He passed on the mayors and the oilmen. Instead he wrote about dockworkers, garage inventors, night owls and the regulars of Fifth Ward and a downtown strip known as Catfish Reef. His best columns became the 1955 book.

In the slang of those columns, “lagoon” meant cool. So Sig’s Lagoon translates roughly to “Sig’s cool spot,” a tip of the hat to a writer who loved the same scruffy, real Houston that a record shop full of local music celebrates.

Did you know? The book has been out of print since it first appeared, and the Houston Press once named it the best out-of-print book by a dead local columnist. Used copies turn up now and then. Keep an eye out.

A Brief History of Sig’s Lagoon

The shop opened in 2004 on Main Street, started by Tomas Escalante and his wife Jennifer after the couple moved to Houston. Escalante grew up in Corpus Christi and played in bands, and the store gave his record obsession a permanent address.

The deeper roots run to San Marcos. Sundance Records was founded in 1977 by Bobby Barnard and his wife Nancy, and it became a Texas institution for 35 years. Escalante started working there in 1991 while he was a student at Southwest Texas State. He also met Jennifer there.

When Sundance closed in 2012, Barnard sent the inventory east. The first shipment alone was roughly 10,000 LPs, plus decades of posters and memorabilia. Sig’s upstairs loft became the annex, and Escalante told the Houston Press at the time, “We won’t let it die.”

Kent Finlay, the late owner of Cheatham Street Warehouse, said of Sundance that “it’s more than a store. It’s a piece of our soul.” Some of that soul now lives above Main Street in Houston.

The story kept going. In 2021, Escalante and Nancy Barnard reopened a store in San Marcos under the name Sundance Record Lagoon. He passed it to new owners in 2024, but the Houston shop remains his home base.

Late Night Lagoon and the Block Around It

Sig’s Lagoon is not content to just sell records. Escalante runs a small label under the Sig’s Lagoon Records name, and the shop produces a YouTube show called Late Night Lagoon, with musician interviews and performances in new episodes each month.

The shop also throws itself into Record Store Day every April, with exclusive pressings and a line out the door before opening. If you want the limited releases, plan to arrive early and bring patience.

Then there is the block itself. The Continental Club sits directly across Main, so the shop fills up with people browsing before a show. Tacos A Go Go and Double Trouble Caffeine and Cocktails are a few doors down. You can build an entire evening without moving your car.

Pro tip: browse first, eat second. Records and taco grease do not mix, and you will want clean hands for the sleeves upstairs. Grab the show tickets at the counter while you pay for your stack, then walk across the street with time to spare.

Tips for a Good Dig

Go on a weekday afternoon if you can. Weekend evenings get lively because of the club crowd, which is fun but not ideal for a slow crawl through the used bins. Hours run late, until 9 or 10 most nights, so there is no need to rush.

Bring records to sell. The shop buys used vinyl and 7-inch singles for cash or store credit from Thursday through Tuesday, generally between 10 in the morning and 2 in the afternoon. Bring a government ID, since they check ownership before buying.

Parking is paid street parking in Midtown, and visitors report paying around $8 for a lot spot nearby. The METRORail Red Line stops close by if you would rather avoid parking altogether.

Ask the staff for help. Pedro H. wrote that they “felt like they actually enjoy working there,” and Esther S. praised “the warm welcome I received as soon as I walked in.” A good record clerk is a free tour guide, so use them.

If you cannot make it in person, the shop runs an online store with in-store pickup, and Escalante posts new arrivals on Instagram at @sigslagoon. Fair warning: following that account is dangerous for your wallet.

How to Get There

Where: Sig’s Lagoon, 3622 Main St, Suite E, Houston, TX 77002. Phone 713-533-9525.

The shop is open every day. Monday through Wednesday it runs 10 in the morning until 9 at night, Thursday through Saturday until 10, and Sunday until 8. Check the shop’s site or social feeds before a long drive, since holiday hours can shift.

From downtown, head south on Main Street past the Pierce Elevated and look for the Continental Club’s sign on your left. Sig’s is right across from it. From the west side of town, take I-69 or US-59 to the Main Street exit and you are three minutes away.

Go Flip Some Crates

Streaming is convenient, and I use it every day. But nothing on a phone screen matches the feeling of flipping through a crate, stopping on a sleeve you have not seen in twenty years, and carrying it home under your arm.

Sig’s Lagoon gives you two floors of that feeling, plus a wall of music history to read while you rest your fingers. Bring a tote bag and budget more than you planned. Then let the crates surprise you.

Featured image: Michelle Stacey via Sig’s Lagoon