It all started with a crate of warped polka vinyls, a discontinued Slurpee machine, and a dream.
Shaggy Doobius was not a man of ambition. He was a man of vibes.
A record store owner in Peoria, Illinois, Shaggy spent most of the ‘90s drinking expired Yoo-hoo and selling obscure Japanese noise rock to teenagers who thought they were being ironic. They weren’t. Shaggy saw something in them—a glimmer of chaotic genius buried beneath bad haircuts and pocket lint.
One night, allegedly during a very intense argument with a broken smoke alarm, Shaggy received a vision. A label. A place where the weird, the witty, and the wildly underqualified could come together to make something real. Or at least real enough to upload to the internet.
And so, Doobius Records was born.
An independent label dedicated to elevating the underdogs, the outcasts, and the bedroom producers who accidentally made something brilliant while trying to remix their toaster.
