When I was in college in the mid to late 1990s, when I would be home for school breaks at my parents’ house in the suburbs of Philadelphia, I worked here and there at a small, independent music shop known as Rock Palace. It wasn’t a big store, mainly dealing with new and used CDs in those days. If you’ve ever seen the movie “High Fidelity,” you understand the vibe of the place, though we weren’t nearly as funny, and had longer hair.
In the back of the shop, there was a small record section that we would sometimes add some band’s limited release albums to, though they were rare at the time. And once or twice a month, someone would come in with a box or two of records they were trying to unload that they had found at their parents’ house when they were moving. But vinyl was not that big of a seller. And in the early 2000s, Rock Palace went under as streaming and digital downloads took over.
But how times have changed. Vinyl is back, and in a big way.
In their new book “Vinyl NYC: 33 1/3 of the Best Record Stores Across All Five Boroughs,” husband and wife architectural and interior photographers James and Karla Murray explore New York City’s iconic record shops from across all 5 boroughs. The book weaves together the Murrays’ signature electric exteriors, intimate interiors, environmental portraits, and a wealth of visual details along with texts on proprietors and their shops penned by music journalist and critic Hattie Lindert.
“It felt very timely because even though stores have closed, there’s been a recent resurgence of vinyl record shops,” Karla tells me over the phone. “This felt like the perfect time to bring people’s awareness that they exist, and they’re really important to the community. I mean, not just the vinyl community, but the community of New York City, the music community in general.”
Music has always been an escape for the Murrays, and they have a long history of collecting vinyl themselves, spending many hours digging through record shops all over the city for that perfect find. They wanted to bring attention to both the old and new spaces in New York.
“We can associate different songs, different albums, the artists, with just different things that have happened in our life over the years or where we were at a particular moment when we first heard a song, whether it was on the radio or when we were in a store and something was playing,” Karla recalls. “Because that’s another reason we always say ‘Oh, go into a record store.’ Because we always tell people, if you’re wearing headphones, take them off when you go in. Listen to what they’re playing on the decks because you might discover something that you will end up loving that you never heard before.”
The book includes places like Casa Amadeo, the oldest continuously occupied Latin music store, which first opened in the Longwood section of the Bronx in 1941. There is Generation Records in Greenwich Village, which has been preserving punk history since 1992. And then there is VP Records, which opened in Jamaica, Queens in 1979 and is home to a record label that is the most prominent independent reggae imprint in the world. New spaces, like Blue-Sun in Williamsburg, Rebel Rouser in Bushwick, and Manhattan45 in the East Village are newer spaces.
And they are more than just record shops.
Photos © James T. & Karla L. Murray, 2025
“They’re super important. So many places are not just record shops. They’re really like ad hoc community centers, Karla explains. “A lot of the owners go above and beyond the call of duty as a record store owner. In that they gather collections for people who are in need. They think whether they need clothing or they need food, they’ll do that. They’ll open up the space for performers, for local musicians, or just for people in the neighborhood to hang out and sing along to the music. We’ve met lots of people, just by hanging out at the stores.”
Black Star Vinyl in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn is one example. Originally started as Halsey & Lewis in 2017, the shop was forced to rapidly relocate in 2021 when owners Martin Brewer and Sonya Farrell found out that their landlord had plans for the building. With donations totaling $35,000 gathered with the help of city councilmen Chi Ossé, Brewer and Farrell were able to move the shop, and rename it Black Star Vinyl, a tribute to Marcus Garvey’s shipping company Black Star Line.
The shop also uses mutual aid as one of its bedrock principles. During the COVID-19 pandemic, Brewer and Farrell, while the store was still called Halsey & Lewis, organized #ShareTheHealth, bringing together friends and store regulars to collect and donate masks, sanitary items, and other basic necessities to local homeless shelters.
But while many of these shops are important to both the community that frequents them and the neighborhood where they reside, they also need people to come and shop. That is how they stay in business, are able to give back, and grow the community that surrounds them.
“Enjoy the dig. We really hope that our book helps others discover these places and visit them, because if we want them to stay in business for many more years to come, they need customers, and not just people shopping online,” Karla and James tell me. “That’s fine if that’s all you can do, but get out from behind the computer. Every record store owner, I will say, really 100%, appreciates and really likes it better when somebody can come in.”
Vinyl NYC: 33 1/3 of the Best Record Stores Across All Five Boroughs is published by Prestel and can be purchased at penguinrandomhouseretail.com. More of Murray’s work can be seen on their website at jamesandkarlamurray.com, which also has links to their social media accounts.








