Some rambling sparked by putting together a local record store map
The Idea of a “Record Store Map”
The idea of creating a record store map for mainland China has been on my mind for quite some time. Because I often have friends in Japan help me buy records, I frequently receive record store maps tucked in with the vinyl they send—some are professionally printed by publishers or event organizers, while others are hand-drawn by the shop owners themselves. Every time I get one, I’m hooked. They’re both incredibly practical guides and great keepsakes.
Inspired by this, I started thinking: why not compile a map of record stores I’ve visited here in China, mix in recommendations from friends, and make my own “mainland edition” record store map—something to share with others and to keep as a personal memento. And if I ever start filming record store tour videos, it would be the perfect companion.
But when I actually sat down to make it happen, I realized it wouldn’t be as easy as I thought. Not because of logistics, but because I tend to be meticulous—and that led me to question and rethink what really counts as a “record store.” This unexpectedly put the whole project in a bind. So today, I want to talk about my definition of a record store, share a few thoughts on the state of record stores in China, and give my personal take on things.
“Records,” “Vinyl,” or “Vinyl Records”?
Before we even get to record stores, I should clarify what I mean when I say “records.” For me, the word almost always refers specifically to long-play microgroove records—whether 12-inch, 10-inch, or 7-inch; spinning at 33⅓ or 45 RPM; pressed on standard black vinyl, colored vinyl, or picture discs. My definition is narrow: I don’t consider CDs to be “records,” even though, broadly speaking, they technically could be included.
With all the colored pressings, picture discs, and even “liquid-filled” records out there, calling them all “black vinyl” sometimes feels off—after all, many of them aren’t black at all. So in my own speech, I often use “record” as the umbrella term for any vinyl disc made of PVC that uses grooves read by a stylus to reproduce sound. Of course, I’ll still say “vinyl” or “vinyl record” when that’s what people are used to hearing, but deep down, “record” feels the most accurate.
Selling Records: The Non-Negotiable Core of a Record Store
To me, the definition of a record store is simple: it must sell records. That’s the baseline—everything starts from there.
But here’s the reality: during vinyl’s golden age, records were mass-produced and collected as the dominant music format. In China, however, the general public largely skipped that phase. We went straight from nothing to CDs and digital streaming, completely bypassing vinyl’s peak years.
That means China never developed the same cultural and commercial ecosystem for records or record stores. Only now, with vinyl’s global revival, are record stores here starting to expose a wider audience to record culture—arguably for the first time in history.
This is both good and bad. The good: our record stores have no historical baggage from vinyl’s decline. The bad: we also lack the cultural depth, variety, and collector’s infrastructure that decades of history bring. What we have instead is a market heavily shaped by current commercial trends—and often missing the organic “record store atmosphere” that comes from long-term, lived culture.
Before Record Stores, There Were Audio-Visual Shops
If we’re talking about shops in China with actual history, we have to mention the once-ubiquitous audio-visual shops—places that sold a mix of records, CDs, DVDs, and sometimes even hard drives full of lossless music files.
While working on this map, I kept running into a dilemma: should I include these shops? On one hand, many of them do sell records—and for some people, they’ve been the only local source of records for years. On the other hand, their business model is built on variety, not specialization. Records are rarely the main product, and because of market pressures, inventory limitations, and profitability concerns, these stores often have only a small, sometimes overpriced selection—often with bootlegs or counterfeits mixed in.
In my eyes, that puts them in a fundamentally different category from stores whose primary focus is selling records. Since my map may be used by beginners just getting into vinyl, I’ve decided to exclude all audio-visual shops for now. Later, I might create a separate “Digger’s Map” for seasoned collectors, which would include them—as well as other oddball places where you might stumble on unexpected gems.
Records Alone Can’t Sustain a Store—Crossovers Are Inevitable
Another reality of China’s vinyl scene is that many “record stores” are really hybrid shops: records plus coffee, records plus craft beer, records plus vintage clothing, records plus books, records plus art toys, and so on.
This crossover model is natural from a business perspective. The domestic market simply isn’t big enough to support a store selling only records as its main source of income—especially if you’re operating legally and paying all the proper costs.
Unlike in countries that lived through vinyl’s heyday, China’s music culture didn’t have decades to grow around the format. For most people here, vinyl is either a nostalgic curiosity or a way to romanticize an era they never personally experienced. And because playing vinyl requires more space, money, and effort than CDs or streaming—not to mention the cost of setting up and maintaining a turntable system—it remains a niche product.
That’s why hybrid business models aren’t just common here—they’re often the only way for a record store to survive.
When “Record Stores” Aren’t Really Record Stores
But there’s a catch: this hybrid approach has blurred the line between actual record stores and businesses that just look like record stores.
I’ve visited plenty of shops that market themselves as record stores, but once inside, it’s clear the records are just for show. They might be a whiskey bar, a café, a clothing boutique, a furniture store, or a toy/art shop that happens to have a turntable and a few records lying around—often the owner’s personal collection, not for sale.
While I fully support businesses using vinyl as a design or marketing element—it helps spread awareness and keeps records in the public eye—I don’t consider these places true record stores. My definition is non-negotiable: if you don’t have records for sale, you’re not a record store.
The Rise of the Independent Record Store
In today’s internet-driven era, another type of shop has emerged: small, often appointment-only record stores run more like private studios. These are usually located in residential neighborhoods or creative parks, away from high-traffic commercial areas. The owners are often serious collectors, sometimes working in the music industry, and they run the store more as a passion project than a livelihood.
They build their customer base through social media, word of mouth, and tight-knit local communities. In some cities, these shops have become gathering places for record lovers—spaces to listen, swap, and buy records in a relaxed, social setting.
However, the appointment-only model comes with trade-offs: it limits walk-in traffic, reduces sales opportunities, and can make the shop feel less accessible to casual visitors. Still, because they foster genuine record culture, I’ve chosen to include these stores on my map—with clear notes about how they operate.
About the Record Store Map
My plan is to release the map city by city, with each city having its own fold-out guide (sized roughly like a Traveler’s Notebook insert). Each map will feature detailed shop info, locations, and curated routes for exploring not just record stores, but also music venues, bars, and other spots worth visiting.
The first cities will be the ones I know best—Shanghai, Suzhou, and Hangzhou—followed later by places like Guangzhou, Beijing, and Chengdu. I’ll be collecting shop recommendations along the way, so if your city’s on the list, feel free to share your favorite hidden gems.
This is my first time making something like this, so I’m sure there will be gaps and mistakes. I welcome feedback to make the map as complete as possible—and I hope it can serve as a snapshot of how record culture in China continues to grow.
Eventually, I’d like to revisit each store in person—some I already know well, others for the first time—and film a series of tour videos. Sometimes video is the most direct way to capture a store’s atmosphere and help people choose where they want to dig.
One day, I hope I can just step outside, wander to the nearest corner, and walk into a record store where I find exactly the record I’ve been looking for. That, to me, would be the ideal life.
