HDid not Kim Jae Wook says he is trying to work in advertising. “It was creative, competitive, and fun when I was young, but it wasn’t there anymore.” So, for the past seven years, instead of spending days writing copies, it was wire-edged. Gently spoken, 59-year-old Kim, wearing glasses and a dark jumper, spent the night behind a bar counter near the government district of Seoul. — It’s also home to thousands of records he started collecting as a teenager.
Stacking scraps and pens on the countertop and table allows customers to request their favorite songs. Before the government introduced a curfew to fight the covid-19 pandemic, Kim said the bar, Seochon Bruce (pictured), was filled with tired salaried men from surrounding companies and state agencies during the week. He says he was full in his twenties, weekend hipsters and local artists. “There are a few retro waves,” he observes. “All young people want very old songs.”
Kim said dozens of “LP The Bar is located in the Korean capital, many of which are run by men who have similar stories. Korean companies offer few opportunities for middle-aged workers who are not above the ranks or are fed up with the strict rhythm of office life. A few people who quit their jobs in their 50s and have too large a music collection in their living room to work as taxi drivers or security guards in the softly lit basements and walk-ups of modest office buildings. I stopped by with a record. ..
the first LP The bar opened in the 1990s. Perhaps inspired by a “listening bar” born in Japan in the mid-20th century, music lovers gathered to listen to imported records that would otherwise be difficult to obtain. However, they have skyrocketed in recent years, and their frequently middle-aged owners are benefiting from analog trends that are fascinating Korean digital natives. An established K-pop star promoted his latest single with a photo of himself posing in front of a pile of records dressed in the 1960s. The new band will release a special edition of their latest album in vinyl. Last year, national record sales increased 75%. Women in their 20s and men in their 30s were the biggest buyers.
The atmosphere of the bar varies from mellow to noisy, depending on location, time and taste (although pandemic restrictions make melancholy the dominant mood). Many requests are on the Morkie side. Kim Kwang-seok, a Korean folk rock singer in the 90’s, is especially popular, Kim says. So is “Hotel California”. There is also a specialized place. “People know that there are a lot of psychedelics of the 1960s, so they come mainly for that,” said Choi Byung-ik, who runs a bar in the fashionable student area of Hongdae with his wife. I will. Lovers like to listen to the British band Leaf Hound, who recorded only one album during their heyday, and famous groups such as Pink Floyd and Cream, named after the bar.
The· USP Others’ are their equipment. “I made this sound system nowhere else,” says the owner of the glamorous Apgujeong district, a state-of-the-art amp-speaker mix that is said to date back to the 1930s.But in big cities, where you generally have little time to express your emotions, everything LP The bar promotes nostalgia.
“I don’t like digitization, and I don’t like the isolated way people are living now,” says Lee Jae-joon, who quit his logistics job to open a bar down the street from Kim. .. “I like to remember the 80’s and 90’s, and I like to play and recollect people’s young songs.” On the best days, patrons said, “I like it with just a drink. I’ll play one song and another song. Before I knew it, at 4 am, everyone got drunk and went home happily. ” ■■
This article was published in the printed Books & arts section under the heading “Exit music”.
Exit music – The rise and charms of LP bars in South Korea | Books & arts Source link Exit music – The rise and charms of LP bars in South Korea | Books & arts