Listless and in need of stimulation, I ventured out alone on a Friday evening in late August. It was one of those hot, sticky days of summer in the South that linger, much like the weight of music and melodies that speak to your soul.
And so I found myself at Commune, a listening room and wine bar in Avondale Estates, east of Atlanta; the night was crooning to a close, after hours of music commandeered by DJ and record collector Bruce Phillips.
Phillips’ set, played entirely on vinyl, transported listeners on a musical journey of the African diaspora, touching the genres of soul, Brazilian groove, and jazz fusion. Over a span of four sangria-soaked hours—where I enjoyed every note of the apricot eau de vie, peach, pineapple, and spiced citrus drink—the spirited vocals of Ramsey Lewis, Elias Silva, Roberto Roena, Hubert Laws, and Bill Summers spilled through the room.
As the room emptied at the end of the night, the last notes of Roy Ayers “Everybody Loves The Sunshine” echoed into silence. I thought to myself how much that moment, a night where music had fully satiated me after walking in burdened and listless, was the reason I’d ventured out to begin with. I was leaving full and comforted, buoyed among the side conversations I’d had with other music lovers and Phillips himself throughout the night.
As someone exploring music more deeply as it connects me to my late parents, I’ve been looking for physical spaces to gather with others. Not a club but somewhere that still feels alive yet more connective. More intentional, too, as the isolation of the pandemic still lingers.
Really, I was searching for listening rooms like Commune where music truly is the centerpiece of evenings which every gentle laugh or soft conversation revolves around. My pursuit, it seems, is shared by many others packing out these once-novel venues—the newest iteration for sipping wine and drinking cocktails, while music strums in the background.
Commune and similar listening rooms or bars are a nod to the Japanese kissa, or kissaten, which first appeared in Japan in the late 19th century. The listening of Western jazz, however, within them happened in the late 1920s and reached the climax of popularity in the post–World War II 1940s and ‘50s. The calamities of war shuttered many of the earliest kissa, as entire collections of jazz records were lost. The modern resurgence represents a time of reconnection with jazz and places encouraging deep listening.
This essence partly inspired Commune co-owners Zopi Kristjanson and Chris Devoe to open in 2024. The two music lovers took a leap of faith diving into food and beverage, taking advantage of the “perfect windowless space” in Avondale Estates.
“Music, wine and food have been at the center of gatherings for thousands of years, so we feel it's important to offer a place to enjoy all these things in an elevated space that's not crazy expensive,” Kristjanson said. Armed with their music knowledge, Kristjanson and Devoe equipped the listening room and wine bar with a JJ322 tube amp, Klipsch AK6 speakers and sound-absorbing panels along the walls and ceilings that look ornamental and decorative at first glance.
But it’s not just the acoustics and audio that sets the tone for a transformative music experience. Low-to-the-ground wrap-around couches invite close conversation over a revolving menu of charcuterie, brioche rolls or pasta puttanesca. Table service at Commune is seamless, as glasses of wine or fresh cocktails appear almost unprompted.
At Legend Has It, in downtown Sacramento, CA, curation is key to the experience. Co-owned by local DJ José Medina and his wife Victoria, it is the first and only hi-fi listening bar in the city.
Soothing sage-colored walls envelope the space and warm wood, used in shelving, cover most of the record-filled wall behind the bar. “We play the whole album from beginning to end to tell the story of all the artists on our walls,” he said. The bar, which just celebrated its one-year anniversary, features a mix of themed nights where DJs play any number of genres—soul, jazz, reggae, R&B and more—and others dedicated to a single artist and album. Recently, they dedicated an evening to Frank Ocean’s Channel Orange” and Tyler the Creator’s Igor.
To the left of the bar is the makeshift DJ booth. Rotating taps have recently featured Two Rivers Cider and IPAs from Alaro, LogOff and King Cong, all local breweries. For natural wine lovers, sip Donkey & Goat’s Mourvèdre Twinkle and Podere Giardino’s Lambrusco Suoli Cataldi.
To achieve their desired hi-fi sound quality, Medina tapped local audio engineers to outfit the listening bar with a McIntosh amp and Klipsch La Scala and Heresy speakers. “The McIntosh [amp] helps create a rich, full body distortion-free sound,” he said. “Anything that you hear on the vinyl [as it plays], you’ll hear as if you were there in the recording session.”
Chicago’s West Town is home to Wax Vinyl Bar and Ramen Shop, an offshoot of the creative genius of longtime DJ Lee Farmer and his wife Gina Barge-Farmer. According to Barge-Farmer, the two came up with the concept in late 2023 and in early 2024 traveled to Tokyo to research kissatens. The vinyl bar opened officially on June 2024, with a stellar lineup of DJs, all of whom spin records on an invite-only basis, taking advantage of the crisp, sonic sound through the speakers powered from an AlphaTheta Euphonia rotary mixer.
The DJ booth glows in almost fluorescent blues, greens and reds, drawing your eyes to where the music emanates. “Music is front and center to us. Most people come in and say, ‘Wow, this is a vibe,’” Barge-Farmer said. Wax Vinyl has themed nights like one for ‘90s R&B and others for house music, essential for a space in Chicago.
Though there is clear inspiration from the kissa they experienced while in Tokyo—the ramen bowls, togarashi fries, flash fried wings shaken in Japanese barbecue sauce and an extensive selection of Japanese whiskies—they are clear that this concept is their own iteration. “We’re not trying to be Tokyo or Brooklyn. We’re Chicago through and through but we pay homage because we know that we’re standing on specific backs of this kind of listening room, “ Barge-Farmer said.
Yes, the echoes of kissa are felt in each of these spaces —many cities like Atlanta, New York, and Chicago have slowly become listening room epicenters.
In a world buzzing with too much technology and an overwhelming amount of access to algorithm-led playlists, there is something sacred and ceremonial about going analog. Of pausing to listen a little bit more and not giving into the scroll to let yourself go on a sonic adventure, sharing room with others as your temporary and beautifully fleeting sonic companions.
“There’s a lot of horrible stuff happening in the world, but bringing people together around a shared listening experience seems like a positive way to check in with humanity,” said Kristjanson. “We need some of that right now.”