Jonathan Solari works as an administrator for the Massachusetts College of Pharmacy, but it’s his role as founder of the new label, Eczema Records, that is his passion. What started as a hobby — he and his college friends gathering to watch bad movies for fun — has turned into a career.
One of those bad movies, “Joysticks,’’ a 1983 comedy that took 13 days to film, stood out to Solari as “over-the-top ridiculous,’’ and thus became a passion project of sorts. He soon found himself Googling the film’s producers and contacting them to request the rights to the soundtrack.
Composer Ray Knehnetsky thought he was being pranked when he first got his call.
“He was curious but skeptical,’’ said Solari.
Nonetheless, they settled on a mere $1,500 option payment, and Eczema Records was born. For the cover art, Solari sussed out the artist’s signature on the original movie poster, contacted him, and secured those rights as well, for $150. Soon, Eczema was pressing 1,000 records of clear pink and red vinyl at a cost of $5.20 each.
Solari is realistic with his expectations. “If this goes well, fine. It’s also not completely going to break me,’’ he said.
Still, the fact he is able to start a new business that he loves, as he begins to scout his next bad movie soundtrack, should be encouraging for the entrepreneur in all of us.
The niche that Solari and others have stumbled across is nothing new. It comes about, in part, with the general resurgence of vinyl.
But the popularity of this particular genre — obscure soundtracks from movies long since forgotten — has only recently exploded. Its progenitor is the British label Death Waltz, which began in 2012 and specializes in scores and soundtracks from horror movies.
Founder Spencer Hickman calls the segment of music “a niche, within a niche, within a niche.’’
“When I started Death Waltz, no one was giving the marginal films much love and attention,’’ he told me. Now, he says, there’s a re-released soundtrack section “in every single record store worldwide.’’
Its success has been fed by Hickman’s high-end repackaging of movie soundtracks — like John Carpenter’s “Escape from New York’’ and “The Fog’’ — complete with liner notes and bonus tracks.
Locally, places like Newbury Comics have taken notice. Carl Mello, who’s been with the company for 23 years, says it has sold more than 120,000 of these records in the last few years.
Unfortunately for the small independent labels, the new sales have also caught the attention of the large companies, including Sony and Universal.
“Over the past two to three years, the majors are choosing to exploit their vinyl catalog instead of licensing it out to smaller labels or distributors,’’ said Mello.
The small pressings of 500 or 1,000 records at a time might not seem like much on their own, but taken together, they are enough for the large labels to take the work back from the hobbyists.
And that’s too bad. Because upstart labels like Eczema and even Death Waltz can’t compete against the industry giants.
The precipitous popularity of music from forgotten movies is puzzling. Mello describes it as a turn toward subculture. “It’s the same rejection that always occurs in culture where you have people who define themselves out of the mainstream,’’ he explained. “It’s a lifestyle thing.’’
Whatever the reason people are seizing on this odd niche, I hope it continues. It belongs in the hands of the entrepreneurs who love making it rather than the big record labels.
Mike Ross writes regularly for the Globe. Follow him on Twitter @mikeforboston.
