A visit to feels like stepping back in time: customers bustle about and chat, thumb through albums, nod along to the beat together. Eugene Tam, who opened the shop almost 35 years ago, says that the digital experience offered by streaming giants can’t replicate the beautiful communal aspect of discovering with other people. “It’s fun, right?” says Tam.
“You play one hot track and everyone gets excited.” Vinyl stores like Play de Record offer something familiar that feels like something new. Many of Tam’s most loyal customers are local DJs, including , who has hosted parties around the city for over two decades.
Mensa recalls the days when he visited Play De Record every Thursday and how much he still loves listening to new records with people in-store. “Nowadays, you have things served on a platter for you,” says Mensa, pointing out how streaming services serve up algorithmically engineered recommended lists. “It lacks the sense of discovery.
It feels very soulless.” A yearning for discovery — and for soul — is powering an analogue movement in Toronto. Call it a fight against the algorithm: a growing appetite for records, books, magazines and DVDs, driven by nostalgia and digital exhaustion.
Some of the energy is measured in longevity — , recently celebrated almost 50 years — while data also shows steady economic growth. Luminate, a company that collects music and entertainment data, in vinyl sales in Canada last year compared to 2022. Brendan Wh.