Discovering new music has a way of softening the coldest heart — the melody, rhythm, and frequency of melodies have been shown to reduce cortisol levels. Add great cocktails, and you’ve got a recipe to let your guard down and connect with others. These audio spaces are called listening bars. While audiophiles can spend hours discussing the Japanese heritage listening spaces, Philly’s got its own versions, which are so much more than a room for listening, with top-tier cocktails and sweets, offering the deeply-needed sense of connections for people.
America is in the throes of a loneliness epidemic. At least 20 percent of people have reported feeling lonely, with young people especially at risk for social isolation and long-term health issues. Activities encourage people to come together over shared interests and boost social connections. Music, in particular, creates bonding moments over shared memories. If you’ve ever heard a familiar playlist and immediately relaxed, that’s the feeling of your cortisol decreasing and a positive mood state setting in.
Serra Calvert, a 29-year-old bartender, had just moved to Philadelphia from North Carolina in search of a more creative life when a friend brought her to LMNO for happy hour. “We didn’t even know about the listening room,” she tells Eater. Now, she’s a regular at the colorful Fishtown corner lounge, often picking through its vinyl, categorized in bins like 1970s funk, big band, and everything in between. The themes sound random, but work together; listeners share deep cuts from various subcultures.
Calvert’s experience is a common story at LMNO’s Off the Wall events, lounge listening parties where anyone can play DJ. “We’re teaching a younger generation of listeners that there’s a second side to the vinyl,” says general manager Kayla Karp. “And how to use the equipment,” adds DJ Dre, who curates the current collection with love.
Karp and Dre could write a book of unlikely friendships: music lovers across generations and cultures, all nurtured at LMNO, and almost all of them include energetic conversations with a piece of physical media in hand. The lounge welcomes both longtime locals and new residents, aiming to work as a center of community in Philly. Along those lines, Dre is excited about the record selections featuring local musicians and bands, like songwriting icon Kenny Gamble and Motown compilation album The Philadelphia Sound. He gets a lot of joy watching people experience new music: “That’s the goal, to open people up to new things,” he says. Karp is looking forward to adding more Latin sounds to match the restaurant’s menu.
Elsewhere, Philadelphia’s new crop of listening bars are experimenting all the time, in music, decor, and food. At 48 Record Bar, everything is a moving target: subcultures, sounds, and a drinks menu. Creative director Joey Sweeney wants you to have heard at least three genres of music — jazz, soul or possibly something lo-fi — by the time you gulp down a few cocktails.
48 Record Bar in Old City opened in late 2023. Gab Bonghi/48 Record Bar
Though 48 Record Bar sits above Old City bar Sassafras in a skinny row home, the second-floor listening bar is one of those places with what is considered proper speaker setup. Sweeney believes audiophiles would still find fault with it, but that doesn’t deter the crowds who pack the cozy space nightly. Alongside locals, you’ll find music-loving tourists who seek out the space, which doesn’t bother him at all. “You’re going with intention, and for me, that’s enough,” he says.
Experiencing artistic expression with others builds empathy. You may enter a listening bar alone, but you’re soon bonding with a stranger over a special album. Calvert lights up, recounting a listening party at Callowhill metal bar Doom. “I sat by myself, and two girls just came up to me,” she says; that friendship has transcended beyond the bar. DJ Dre agrees: “The whole point is the collective, shared experience.”
Drinks aren’t necessary to the listening bar equation either, as seen through Fishtown’s latest ice cream shop, Sweet 45. After running events for years, Nashirah Felder (DJ Nash) was ready for something other than the quintessential club experience. At the shop, people can enjoy ice cream flavors like Puerto Rican butter pecan with toppings like hot fudge and caviar while listening to a host of guest DJs spin R&B and reggae from their personal collections.
“Even though we like clubs, we like to party,” Felder says, ”we don’t do a lot of vinyl at clubs, so I wanted to infuse the two.” Sweet 45 is a place where DJs can experiment, and that’s attracting regulars who come a couple of times a week. Patrons stay, listen, dance, and even order scoops. Regulars treat the space like home and Felder like family, bringing her gifts of vinyl and chocolates. “Everybody is creative, they’re trying to do their own thing, and it’s really cool,” she says. While an in-house record shop is coming to the space soon, patrons are more than comfortable trusting the DJs with collections they bring from home. That’s the first rule of Sweet 45: respect the DJ. There haven’t been any problems with that so far.
The road to LMNO in Fishtown. Annemarie Dooling/Eater Philly
These Philadelphia bars and music spaces stray from the traditional listening bar experience, and, in many ways, have evolved from the original plans. There’s more talking than listening at times. “We’re in Philadelphia. You can’t shush people here,” Sweeney says. But, it’s comforting to thumb through records with a coffee at West Philly cafe Milkcrate or hear deep cuts of hardcore with your oysters (on a top-quality sound system) at Spring Garden’s impossibly cool rock bar Poison Heart. I hear new sounds with every sip of Amaro at Solar Myth down on South Broad Street, and at parties like Mt. Airy’s SOOK Vintage & Vinyl’s community events.
Calvert feels happy in these rooms, discovering new sounds, and has found her home. “Music has always brought people together, and music has always been there for me,” she says. The chance of finding your community will always be possible, especially as listening spaces continue to evolve.