There’s something about vinyl that is intoxicating. Maybe it’s the sleeve art, big and beautiful. Or, it could be the warm sound from the speakers, or perchance it’s the physicality of the thing, where there are literal grooves that contain the sound, not just bits and bytes.

For me, it’s also the memories. We had one of those large console cabinets where you opened the top and there was the record player, as well as storage for the records, and the big speakers were built in. Dad would rifle through his collection that ranged from Hendrix to Haydn, and you’d hear the “Aha!” when he found what he was looking for.

“We get people in here every week from Japan, Germany… all over,” said Hales, who is about to embark on a trip to Germany to play the Detroit sound for a thousand people, where here in Detroit he’d pull about 30 for the Northern Soul Sound, which Hales says actually refers the to the north of England, as they were looking for new things to dance to, and Detroit’s lesser-known acts became a big deal.”

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