Owned and operated by brothers Kilo and Shawn Davenport since 1997, the shop is as laid-back as it comes. On most days, there's bound to be a pack of vehicles out front, their owners in the shop, shooting the shit, listening to some albums and kicking back. Hanging out is encouraged here.
The Davenports make it a point to support the endeavors of local artists as well. In addition to carrying albums from the likes of Tech N9ne, Rich the Factor, Greedy and other KC rappers and posting pretty much any flier that comes through the door, Wax Factory extends its communal attitude to its so-called competitors.
"7th Heaven helps us," Kilo says. "Sometimes they'll send customers over here if they don't have a particular thing, and I do the same for them. Another record store [in KCK] is having Mike Jones come do an autograph signing, and since I have the poster up for it over there, he said he'd bring Mike by here after that. We help each other out."
Wax Factory does customer service like Bentley does automobiles — no effort is spared. Unlike Bentley, however, customers don't have to pay out the ass to get what they want.
I stopped in the other day to pick up the new Devin the Dude album. Short of cash, I pulled out my scarred, chipped, laundered and pathetically frail debit card. After 10 swipes, the card still wouldn't run. I was expecting to walk out empty-handed, but Kilo simply said, "Go on and take it. We're open until 10. Just come by sometime later on with the money."
As at most stores, Wax Factory will special order whatever it doesn't have for the customer — anything and any customer.
"This is me," Kilo says. "If a guy comes in here and says, 'Hey, I'm in town for two weeks doing a construction job, and I need that new Creed CD,' then I'm gonna order it for him. I'm gonna get it here as fast as I can, and I don't judge. I listen to everything, and I want people who come in here to leave with something."
A music-shop owner willing to go out of his way to order a Creed album and not tax the customer for his bad taste — now there's a merchant worth some business.