On a chilly December morning, Robert recounts to me the time he played his mother’s favorite song, Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road” through his hi-fi system. After the cumbersome time spent lugging the equipment and then managing to make it all fit in a compact space like a living room, he recalls how within the first four notes, tears streamed down her face. “I get it now,” she said, experiencing a song she’d loved for decades in an entirely new light. I think we all can relate to that nostalgic longing for getting to experience our favorite song, movie, book, etc. again for the first time. That cathartic experience Robert created for his mom with high-fidelity sound, that feeling of almost being in the place and time that something was recorded, is what Robert aims to bring to PVD with Murmur Hi-Fi, a listening bar opening in late January at 276 Westminster Street.
From my chat with Robert, I was reminded of something that I needed to hear: it’s never too late to actualize your dreams. The most important thing is that you start. He’s trained in graphic design from RISD and works as a creative director at Puma, but is now embarking on this somewhat unexpected chapter later in life. “I never thought, throughout the arc of my career, that I’d be going back into hospitality,” he shares, reflecting on his first job bussing tables in his adolescence. But over the years, his travels and experiences at listening bars from cities like Tokyo to Mexico City ultimately led him to this conclusion: “This needs to happen here.”
Robert’s journey began during a month-long solo trip to Japan in the mid-2000s. He’d always been drawn to elements of Japanese culture like the design aesthetic, the attention to detail, and the approach to what we might deem as mundane, everyday tasks like pouring tea, as ritual. In Tokyo, he stumbled into his first kissaten, a traditional Japanese listening bar where vinyl records and high-fidelity sound systems create a one-of-a-kind experience. “It’s this personal and profound experience that you’re having internally, while at the same time everybody else around you is doing the same thing,” he explains. “Everyone’s having this personal experience at the same time, which makes it a collective experience.”
What captivated him most wasn’t so much the sound quality itself as it was the reverence for the art form of handling vinyl and curating records. Listening to music in this way is much more of a process than how we often consume it nowadays, able to easily flip between radio stations or skip to the next song on our desired streaming platform.
Over the years, Robert’s work afforded him opportunities to seek out listening bars in major cities around the world. And with PVD’s rich musical history, it seemed fitting that such an artistic city should have its own listening bar. The space on Westminster where Murmur will be housed has “always had this arts and cultural musical backbone,” Robert notes. “The thought was, wow, someone should do this in Providence. And I just got tired of waiting for it, so it was like, let’s just do it.”
For those who’ve become accustomed to getting their music through contemporary mediums (that are often squashed with compression) like Airpods and streaming, the analog experience opens up a whole new world of the listening experience. “It’s like hearing it for the first time,” Robert explains. “You can hear the air, the space, the warmth. You can hear where each musician is in the room.” This three-dimensional soundstage just doesn’t quite translate into compressed digital formats. “You’re kind of activating that reptilian part of your brain,” he says.
But beyond sound, vinyl requires more investment and intentionality, a contrast to how music is being consumed in the digital age. “That appointment listening, putting something on deliberately, has kind of disappeared,” Robert observes. Albums were sequenced with the listening experience in mind, creating stories that were meant to be heard from start to finish. “It’s kind of sad that’s become this dinosaur in how we consume music.”
But there’s still hope for the future of music. Robert shares how at a recent holiday market where Murmur set up to introduce themselves in the city, people crowded around crates, fastidiously digging through cassettes and vinyl. The positive response was overwhelming. “I think we’re at an inflection point in how we are consuming music,” he says, pointing out an instance of Hegel’s dialectic, thesis, antithesis, and synthesis unfolding. Digital was the thesis. Analog is becoming the antithesis. And now we’re hitting that synthesis moment where younger generations are consciously rejecting the on-demand model.
“It’s happened throughout history,” Robert continues. “The Arts and Crafts movement was a reaction to industrialization. TV dinners and then the health food movement and the sit-down meal. I think that’s where we are in the music and audio world now too.”
Now, the vision for Murmur was not to be an exact replica of the more silent, reverent vibe Robert experienced in Tokyo. “The music will be the main character in the room, but it’s going to be laid back,” Robert shares. They initially envisioned this being a space for hardcore audiophiles, but the vision expanded. “If we’re going to be downtown, there’ll be people just stumbling in. We didn’t want to be exclusive.” The goal became to create a space for anybody that appreciates music as well as great food and drinks, while also satisfying the audiophile itch that sparked the idea.
Robert and his expert team, the “Power Rangers,” as he calls them, each specialize in different genres from jazz to Madchester to soul and funk, and are bringing diversity and depth to the collection. Programming nights will include curated time blocks with specific Rangers bringing their collections. And we can’t forget about the food, with Chef Justin from DC taking the lead on providing yakitori and front-of-house manager Parker bringing his hospitality expertise. “Everyone’s following the main vision to make something amazing,” Robert enthusiastically shares.
I’m excited to see the change of pace that Murmur will provide to PVD’s bustling downtown energy. There’s an infinite amount of information we can access on the web, constant notifications, deadlines, and the next place to be. It’s easy to fall into information overload. Murmur is asking us to slow down, be present, and experience the kinesthetic ritual aspect of vinyl.
In a world that constantly asks us to skip, scroll, and move on to the next thing, Murmur’s promise is something harder to come by: listening to a body of work from start to finish, allowing yourself to get lost in its world. If you’re someone with an extensive knowledge of speakers and audio equipment, or just somebody passing by who likes music and wants to experience it differently, there’ll be a seat waiting for you here.