 Meet Peder, a Swedish vinyl collector who never abandoned his records, still believes in the thrill of the hunt, and wonders whether the vinyl revival has made collecting too expensive.
Peder once sold a record that he believes could now be worth as much as $3,000. He got $2 for it. It was a copy of an album by Bathory, the influential Swedish black metal band, featuring the now-famous yellow goat on its cover. Back in the 1990s, it was just another second-hand record changing hands for a couple of dollars. He doesn't regret selling it. He wasn't particularly fond of the music, and $2 was what records like that were selling for at the time. It's a story that says a lot about how vinyl collecting has changed. For more than three decades, Peder has watched records go from everyday objects to unwanted leftovers and, eventually, desirable collectibles. Through it all, he's held onto his collection. But while vinyl has become more valuable, he wonders whether something has been lost along the way.
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 Every record collector has one that got away.
Maybe you sold it, gave it away, lost it during a move, or held it in your hands at a record store and decided you'd come back another day. Sometimes it isn't even particularly rare or valuable. It just means something to you. Steve didn't lose one record. He gave up his entire collection in the 1980s. Decades later, he started buying it back. That decision would eventually lead to a flea market, a small room in the back of a thrift shop, a dinosaur with a story stretching back to 1925, and The Vinyl Dinosaur, an independent record store in Bayville, New Jersey. But none of that was the plan. The excitement, the exclusives, the crowds and the changing experience of digging for records.  Some collectors will be lining up outside their favourite record store before the doors open on November 27.
Others will be happily avoiding the crowds, hoping to find something interesting once the excitement has settled down. And some won't bother with Record Store Day at all. That's the interesting thing about Record Store Day Black Friday 2026. Nearly two decades after the event began celebrating independent record stores, collectors still have very different ideas about what makes it worthwhile. Is it the limited releases? The atmosphere? Supporting a local shop? Or simply the possibility of discovering something unexpected? With Black Friday approaching, I reached out to independent record store owners and collectors to hear what they think about Record Store Day today. The responses ranged from genuine enthusiasm to questions about prices, exclusives and unsold stock. I also looked at how collectors are reacting to this year's release list. Whether you're planning to line up early, browsing the releases for the first time or wondering if the event is worth attending, here's what you need to know — and what the vinyl community is saying.  Sid had been making music since he was a kid. Growing up in Salford, Greater Manchester, punk became central to his life. He played, he wrote, he absorbed everything around him. But there was one part of making music he had pretty much ruled out. Singing. “I always refused to sing because I thought having a bad voice should stop me. For years in fact I believed that.” It's an interesting admission from someone who describes punk as “everything to me.” Sid had spent years listening to voices that weren't conventional and weren't trying to be. Eventually, he had to confront the fact that he wasn't giving himself the same freedom. “Then I realised I was a hypocrite.”  Every major music city has places around it where culture grows quietly, just outside the noise, just beyond the spotlight. New York has Jersey City. Manchester has Bolton. Toronto has Oakville. And in Oakville, that place became PCV Records. It didn’t start with confidence or a grand plan. It started with trepidation: a small shop called Pop Culture Vulture opening its doors without knowing if anyone would care. John, the owner, puts it plainly: “Not sure there was ever a spark… there was a lot of trepidation. We were not sure people in Oakville would care or be interested.” Are traditional paper sleeves good enough for your records? Here's what makes rice-paper and HDPE inner sleeves different, why I use them, and when upgrading makes sense.  Yes, rice-paper inner sleeves are worth considering if you want to protect your vinyl from paper dust, unnecessary friction and static buildup. A well-made sleeve with a high-density polyethylene (HDPE) lining provides a smoother surface against the record than traditional paper. That doesn't mean every record needs an expensive sleeve. And it certainly doesn't mean a new sleeve will fix an old scratch. But after years of collecting, I've come to appreciate how much difference the smallest details can make. Especially when it comes to records I wouldn't want to replace. Two Smiths Records That Changed How I Think About Protection  Three thousand records. A two-bedroom apartment. And the possibility of a vinyl avalanche.
Ben Riggin jokes about that last part, but there came a point when his growing collection raised a serious question. How much music could one person realistically listen to? He did the math. At three albums a day, every day of the year, it would take nearly three years to hear everything he owned. And that was without buying another record or returning to an old favourite. For someone who had spent years digging through bins, it was enough to make him reconsider what collecting meant. Not because he'd lost interest in music, but because he wanted to spend more time enjoying what he already had. And much of that passion could be traced back to one Alice Coltrane album. Zack of Zack’s Records has spent most of his life collecting. He owns plenty, can stream almost anything, and has even wondered what would happen if he sold it all. Yet another record always seems to find its way home.  A few years ago, a friend of Zack’s sold his record collection to a record store in Toronto for a substantial amount of money. Naturally, Zack wondered what his own collection might be worth. But then he started thinking about what selling it would actually mean. “Okay, so I sell it. Then what? I don’t really know.” That's the problem.
Zack has been buying records since he was young. These days, collectors may know him through Zack’s Records on Instagram or as one of the voices behind Groove Daddies, a new project coming soon where five dads talk about records, music and everything that tends to come with it. He buys less than he used to. Partly because he already has a lot. Then something catches his attention and he's off again. “So why am I still buying more? I don’t know if I have a great answer. I hear something I really like, and I want the record.” Fair enough. A little warning before we begin: Strong language, provocative ideas and an artist who isn't particularly interested in playing nice. Good. Independent music needs more of that.  “Did, did you hear? They’re building a data centre on the moon? — Art d'Ecco, The Death of Indie Well, that got my attention.
It's been a while since a Canadian artist grabbed my attention quite like this. There's something about Art d'Ecco's attitude that brings to mind Carole Pope and Rough Trade's High School Confidential, a wonderfully provocative Canadian gem from the 1980s that wasn't afraid to challenge convention. Plenty of artists have pushed boundaries since, but there's a similar spirit here. Those familiar with Rough Trade will know what I'm talking about. And if you're not? There's a terrific little rabbit hole waiting for you. Go digging. Different decade. Different target. Same glorious refusal to behave. Art d'Ecco has his own conventions to challenge. He's got AI, tech billionaires and the future of independent music in his sights, and apparently seven minutes isn't too long to tell us exactly what he thinks. Good. Sometimes music needs to do more than entertain us. Sometimes it needs to piss us off.  The Specials started it. Robyn, originally from Liverpool, was 12 when she got her first turntable for Christmas, along with the band's self-titled debut. The Smiths' Louder Than Bombs, purchased with Christmas money, followed soon after. “I was so excited to get home and play it on my new record player,” she remembered. “I can still remember being that excited!” Like most collectors, plenty more records followed. But some of the ones that matter most to Robyn today have little to do with rarity or value. One takes her back to two hours spent outside a concert on a cold October night with her nan. It happens to be signed by Elkie Brooks, but the signature isn't the reason it means so much. How record collecting changed herI first came across Robyn through The Record Collectors Club, where she appeared as Collector No. 15. The project looked beyond photographs of vinyl collections to tell the stories of the collectors themselves.
A few years later, I was interested in what had changed. “Collecting records has definitely expanded my music taste,” she says. “I feel like I’m more open to all kinds of different genres and recommendations than I would have been had I not started. I’ve discovered so many new artists and styles of music that have definitely changed my life!” At 12, Robyn generally bought records she already knew she liked. Today, she's more willing to take a chance. “I suppose I used to just collect records that I knew I liked at the time, but now I find myself picking up music that shop owners tell me to try or buying albums on a whim.” She still goes back to the classic albums and artists she loved at that age, but record collecting has taken her well beyond them.  Put a room full of record collectors in front of thousands of records and something happens. People dig faster. Records change hands. You spot something, put it back, change your mind — and it's gone. Speed City Records owner Michael Todd has a name for it. “It's boots on the ground real life record warfare!” On October 25, collectors get another chance to experience it when the London Record Show returns to London, Ontario.  Life has a way of pulling us away from the things that once mattered most. For Canadian maker Rémy Beaumont, finding his way back to music happened somewhere unexpected: in a woodworking shop near Québec City.  Rémy Beaumont grew up hearing a story about his father and his records. Jean-Marie was young then, living with his parents and brothers in an apartment above a commercial laundry. One day, the laundry caught fire. He got out. His records were still upstairs.  So he went back into the burning building and saved them. Every one.
It's a story his father would tell him years later. And once you hear Rémy talk about Jean-Marie, it doesn't seem entirely out of character. His father was always listening.  Lydia Stephen was standing over a laundry basket holding a pair of jeans.
There was a small mustard stain on them from a hot dog she'd eaten with her boyfriend. Except he wasn't her boyfriend anymore. She knew that if she put the jeans in the wash, the stain would disappear. Normally, that's the point. This time, Lydia hesitated. That little stain was attached to a memory of someone she still loved. Washing it away felt like letting another small piece of their time together disappear. What made the moment even stranger was that Lydia had already written a song about this feeling. She just hadn't written it about herself.  It began with two friends chasing different versions of Relax. Forty years later, that obsession has grown into a 20,000‑square‑foot hunt for rare pressings, Japanese imports, promos, test pressings and records collectors didn’t know existed. There’s a moment when buying records turns into collecting them. It happens when you realize the copy on your shelf isn’t the only one. There’s an earlier pressing. A Japanese issue. A promo. A different sleeve. A 12-inch mix you’ve never seen. Maybe even a test pressing that was never meant to reach the public. “Which one do I own?” Robert and Julian discovered that moment through Frankie Goes to Hollywood. In the early 1980s, the childhood friends became obsessed with the endless variations of ZTT’s 12-inch remixes. One version of Relax led to another. In 1985, they paid US$27 (£20) for a 16‑minute remix. Then they found another copy for US$9.50 (£7). Most people see two copies of the same song. Collectors see the beginning of a rabbit hole. Robert and Julian went down it — and never really came back out. Today, that hunt fills more than 20,000 square feet of warehouse space in Kent, England, packed with original pressings, Japanese imports, promos, white labels, test pressings, picture discs and memorabilia. It’s called RareVinyl. “No matter how well you think you know the records you collect, there’s probably another version out there.”  What are you going to do when you retire? Stacey Agecoutay has been getting that question a lot lately. His 36-year career in financial advisory comes to an end on December 31, 2026, and he already knows the answer. “I am going to start taking my collection seriously!” For Stacey, that means better curating, cataloguing and organizing a collection now approaching 8,000 records and CDs. It means acquiring music more carefully and thoughtfully, and having more time to enjoy what he already owns.
There is plenty to get through. Stacey figures it would take the better part of nine years to listen to everything he owns today if he started at the beginning and played two or three records every day. His relationship with music, though, goes back much further than the collection that now fills several spaces in his Kelowna, British Columbia home. One of the albums that helped shape it wasn't originally on vinyl for Stacey. It was a Rush cassette. The Toronto Downtown Record Show returns October 25. More than 25 years after it began, Aaron Keele and Akim Boldireff are still giving collectors something the internet can't quite replace.  There will be almost 30,000 records in one room in Toronto on October 25. Which raises an obvious question. Why would anyone bother? We can find almost any record we want without leaving the couch. Search for the album. Check the pressing. Compare the price. Click buy. Done. But that's not really digging. Aaron Keele and Akim Boldireff know something about that.  Together they're The Record Guys, two longtime figures in Toronto's record community with more than 30 years each in the music business. Both have owned record stores. They've bought and appraised collections, represented the vinyl community in the media and, for more than 25 years, organized the Toronto Downtown Record Show.
Held twice a year and focused firmly on vinyl, the show brings dealers and collectors together for something increasingly difficult to recreate online: thousands of records in one room and the chance to simply start digging. On October 25, they're doing it again. 
Guest feature by Sid James: This special feature comes from Salford punk archivist Sid James, who shares his story in his own words.
I grew up in Salford, and some of my earliest memories are of being at my grandparents' house in the middle of summer. I can still hear the Ramones drifting down from my Aunt Ray's bedroom upstairs. The sun was coming through the windows, everyone was in a good mood, and Joey's voice just fit the moment. Looking back, I realise that was where everything began.
Manchester has always been the centre of my life. I honestly think it's one of the greatest cities to be a musician in the UK.
When I look back on my own life, it feels like The Smiths are the soundtrack to every high and low. Cemetery Gates is about the cemetery where members of my family are buried. Still Ill became the soundtrack to my first heartbreak. Those songs aren't just music to me. They're places, memories and pieces of who I am. I ended up connecting with Vinyl Vibes after commenting on one of their Manchester posts. I liked the way they talked about the city and the music that came from it, so when they asked if I'd share my story, it felt like the right place to tell it.  The Hamilton Record Show returns to Bridgeworks on September 27. Last time we asked why vinyl still matters. The answers went far beyond the records.
Last time the Hamilton Record Show came around, I asked what seemed like a fairly simple question: Nobody needs vinyl anymore. So why does it still matter so much? We can carry millions of songs in our pockets. We don't need to drive across Hamilton, flip through crates, inspect sleeves or wonder whether the record we've just found is the pressing we think it is. And yet on Sunday, September 27, collectors will once again walk into Bridgeworks and do exactly that. Since writing that original story, I think I've started to understand why. Not because I came up with a better answer. Because collectors started giving me theirs. Originally published November 2025. Updated September 2026 with new context and links exploring the transition from Joy Division to New Order.  Back in 1987, I was hooked on Substance 1987—a compilation of New Order singles that somehow ended up in my cassette deck. I don’t remember how it got there, but I do remember how it consumed me. The 12” versions, the B-sides, the pulse—it quickly became one of my top 10 albums of all time.
But Substance wasn’t the beginning. Before New Order’s shimmering synth-pop and emotionally layered dance tracks, there was Joy Division. Their sound was heavier, darker, and stripped down—a post-punk minimalism that felt more like a descent than a celebration. Where New Order lifted you up, Joy Division pulled you inward. Originally published May 16, 2026. Updated September 19, 2026 with additional context and new resources.  THUS LOVE, a post-punk band redefining modern indie music through raw, intimate sound and atmosphere. Photo credited to Shervin Lainez Music discovery in the streaming era is everywhere - and nowhere at the same time. There has never been more music available, yet fewer moments where it actually lands. Every week brings thousands of new releases pushed through algorithms, playlists, and recommendation feeds competing for attention. But the more access we gain, the harder it becomes to feel anything at all. Music discovery isn’t broken because of access - it’s broken because of attention. The Hardest Part Isn’t Making Music Anymore - It’s Getting HeardOne night in 2022, an algorithm did something it’s supposed to do all the time. It introduced me to a band I had never heard of: THUS LOVE.
I wasn’t searching for anything. I wasn’t digging through recommendations. I wasn’t even paying attention. The song just appeared - and it cut through everything else. Moody, minimal, strangely magnetic. I didn’t skip it. I didn’t scroll past it. I just stayed with it. That doesn’t happen often anymore. That single moment turned into more listening. Then curiosity. Then a trip to Sonic Boom in Toronto where I found their debut album Memorial. Then deeper listening. Then writing about them. Eventually, I was even talking directly with the band’s manager. Even my very first post on the Vinyl Vibes Instagram was THUS LOVE — so this is a band I’ve always felt passionate about. That chain of events matters - because it almost never happens that cleanly. That is what music discovery in the streaming era looks like when it actually works. Most of the time, it doesn’t. Read the full story here: When THUS LOVE found me.  A $10 record from 1987, a new 180g John Coltrane reissue, and a simple question about how much protection our records actually need. I've had two very different jazz records spinning recently. One is a 1987 copy of I Love Jazz that I found used for $10 at Flashbacks in Hamilton. The other is John Coltrane's Giant Steps, a 180-gram gatefold reissue I bought new at PCV Records. Different eras. Different prices. Different inner sleeves. Both sound great. But when I pulled Giant Steps from its jacket, the inner sleeve looked like paper. My immediate reaction was: Should I replace this? Then I looked inside. And realized the answer wasn't as obvious as I thought.   I bought Definitely Maybe on CD at Cheapies in Hamilton in 1994.
More than 30 years later, I finally got to see Oasis live when the reunion reached Toronto in 2025. I wasn't sure we'd ever get Oasis back in the first place. Now they're doing it again. Oasis Live ’27 will take the band through the UK, mainland Europe, the United States and Ireland in 2027, with 38 stadium shows stretching from Glasgow in May to four nights at Knebworth in September. Richard Ashcroft will join Oasis as special guest throughout the tour. Here are the dates, ticket information and a few ways to turn an Oasis show into something bigger.  Gifts for Record Collectors & Music Lovers That Can Start SomethingSome Christmas gifts are forgotten by January.
Music has a habit of doing something different. A record can introduce someone to an artist they end up loving. A pair of speakers can change the way they hear a collection they already own. A concert ticket can become the night everyone is still talking about years later. Sometimes the smallest gift can start something much bigger. I know because it happened to me. One Christmas, I received Everybody Digs Bill Evans. I had already discovered Evans through “Peace Piece,” but that record pulled me deeper into jazz. From there came Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Thelonious Monk, Dave Brubeck and Oscar Peterson. It wasn't just another record under the tree. What one Hamilton music program can teach us about access, discovery, and the importance of giving kids a chance to find their sound.  The students were getting ready to leave. But one boy wasn't going anywhere. Darcy Hepner remembers him clearly. He looked, Hepner says, like the kind of kid who, when he was growing up, "would beat the crap out of all of us." But this kid wasn't looking for trouble. He wanted to try the flute. "He couldn't leave until he tried the flute." It was a small moment, but Hepner never forgot it.
And it helps explain something that sits at the heart of his work with the Hamilton Music Collective: children don't always know what they're interested in until somebody gives them the opportunity to find out. Hamilton is where this story takes place. But the question could be asked in almost any city or town. What happens when you give a child the chance to make music? See Morrissey's remaining 2026 world tour dates, find concert tickets and travel packages, and explore the music from a lifelong fan's perspective.  I've been listening to Morrissey for most of my life. I followed him from The Smiths into Viva Hate in 1988, through Bona Drag, Your Arsenal, Vauxhall and I, You Are the Quarry and so many great records in between. Nearly four decades later, I'm still listening. In 2026, that means the epic Make-Up Is a Lie. It also means another opportunity to experience this extraordinary catalogue live. Morrissey's 2026 tour continues through the United States before returning to Europe and the UK in December. Here are the remaining dates, along with options for finding Morrissey tickets or building a trip around a show. Morrissey 2026 Tour DatesUSA
Europe & UK
Tour dates are based on Morrissey's official schedule. Concert dates and venues can change, so always check the official tour information before making plans.
CHECK THE OFFICIAL MORRISSEY TOUR SCHEDULE → |
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