| Document number | Subject of record | Prepared by | Date filed | Classification |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 006 | Notes on Listening Rooms | The Room | Apr 02, 2026 | Field notes |
Notes on Listening Rooms
From small jazz bars to basement hi-fi nights: the rooms that taught us how people want to hear records.

Long before we built The Room, we were spending our nights in other people's. Tiny jazz bars with a wall of records behind the counter. Basement hi-fi nights where someone brought their own speakers. Members clubs where the best thing about the evening was that nobody was performing for anyone.
They had very little in common on paper. Different cities, different music, different prices. But they all did the same few things, and those things ended up in every decision we made about our own space.
What the best rooms share
They are small. Big enough to feel like an event, small enough that you can see the person playing. They put the sound first: the speakers cost more than the furniture, and someone in the building cares about how they are set up. They have rules, stated once and then enforced kindly. And they have somewhere to sit, because listening is easier when your feet do not hurt.
Small enough to see the artist. Loud enough to feel it. Quiet enough to hear the person next to you.
What we added
We kept all of that and added the phone check. It turned out to be the missing piece. In every great listening room we visited, there was one person at a table, lit by a screen, half in the room and half somewhere else. In ours, there is no one like that. Everyone is in the same place at the same time.
The Room is about three thousand square feet. Corner tables, a staircase, a small stage and a sound system we will happily talk about for an hour. If you have read this far, you would probably like it there.
