There’s something about flipping through crates at Death of Vinyl that makes time irrelevant. Maybe it’s the unmistakable musk of old cardboard sleeves or the thrill of stumbling onto a long-lost pressing you didn’t even know you needed. Open since 2007, this Little Italy staple of a record store is a haven for those who still believe music sounds better with a bit of surface noise.

Stocking everything from rare jazz cuts to obscure Italo-disco, local punk relics to 12-inch dance classics, Death of Vinyl caters to both the casual collector and the kind of obsessive who can name every pressing of Blue Train off the top of their head. Their approach? No gatekeeping, no snobbery—just a deep love for vinyl and the people who spin it.

Beyond the bins, the space fosters a community where recommendations flow as easily as the needle drops. With listening stations, staff who actually know their stuff, and an ethos that values discovery over exclusivity, Death of Vinyl remains a rare breed in the city’s record scene. Whether you’re digging for hidden gems or just soaking in the atmosphere, you’ll leave with something—if not a record, then at least a conversation that sticks.