I’d been waiting several months for the opportunity to visit Bar Shiru a “listening bar” modeled after listening bars that have been operating in Japan since the 1950’s. These bars are spaces with high end audiophile quality sound systems installed into rooms that are designed to optimize the system’s performance and the guest’s listening experience. At these venues, sometimes also called “record bars” or “hi-fi bars,” vinyl is played exclusively and customers are often encouraged to spend their time listening, rather than socializing.
I learned about Bar Shiru and the listening bar concept after reading Ben Ratliff’s article in the NY Times in which he describes the listening bars he’s visited and the experiences he’s had at them. Currently in the US there are just a handful of these venues, Public Records and Tokyo Record Bar in NYC, In Sheeps Clothing and Gold Line in the LA area and Bar Shiru here in the Bay Area. Since reading the article I’ve found myself extremely curious about how such a concept – sitting in a public space and listening to a record played on a high end system while imbibing adult beverages – translates to the American market. As an audiophile with a taste for booze, and with Bar Shiru just a 30 minute drive from where I live, I felt like I really had to go and experience it for myself.
Bar Shiru is located in the heart of downtown Oakland on Telegraph Avenue, and from the outside there is no mistaking the urban flavor of the place. Once inside however, the atmosphere feels well insulated from the street and relaxed, perhaps even a bit subdued. Reservations can be made for parties of 5 to 7, but for just myself and my friend John, owner of one of the best Mexican restaurants in the Bay Area, Comal in nearby Berkeley, we had no trouble walking in at 6 pm on a Thursday evening where we were immediately greeted by a friendly host and offered our choice of several tables or bar seating. We chose the bar, right in front of the smaller of two sets of speakers at Bar Shiro, and we quickly began to take it all in.
The speakers sitting just above us behind the bar looked interesting (I’m not sure of the manufacturer), but to our left and just behind the host’s podium and a group of tables stood a pair of absolutely gorgeous Line Magnetic horn speakers, each with cabinets about the size of a dishwasher, and just behind these magnificent specimens was a wall of record jackets featuring many jazz and classic soul titles. Bar Shiru’s website states that they are a listening bar “focused on jazz as the musical jumping off point.” On this particular evening the focus was on soul, with records played during our stay by Aretha Franklin and Al Green.
To the right of the wall of record jackets were two turntables, a VPI and a SME that were flanked by two substantial looking integrated tube amps. A high end mixing board sat between the turntables, and a pane of thick glass about 2 feet high shielded the gear from the customers but allowed for those interested to take a fairly close look.
The menu features cocktails inspired by the classics, a selection of highballs and a list of spirits as well as some low and no alcohol options. Printed at the back of the menu is a detailed list of Bar Shiru’s sound equipment. I failed to take a copy at my visit and have since I’ve emailed Bar Shiru and asked them to send me one. Below is a picture of the menu they sent me.
John and I both ordered a stylized rendition of the martini made with gin, bitter liqeur, white vermouth and a bit of scotch. The drink was served up and revealed floral aromas on the nose and a bold flavor profile that highlighted the bitter liqueur more than the gin. It was a good drink, but John and I both found ourselves wanting a nosh to go with it. Bar Shiru does not serve a single morsel of food, let alone any Japanese delicacies, but the spirits mostly hail from Japan.
The biggest question for me going in to Bar Shiru and a major reason I wanted to visit was this – does it work to have a high end audio system in a room with people who are socializing and drinking alcohol? At listening bars in Japan it’s typical to have a no talking policy, but this was not the case at Bar Shiru. I went in thinking that it was probably best to keep my voice down and was pleasantly surprised when the rest of the clientele appeared to be of the same mind. There were conversations, but none loud enough that I heard what other guests were talking about. The music certainly felt like a focal point for the experience.
The other big question I had before going to Bar Shiru was – would the fact that the audio system is “high end” and analog really translate in the listening experience at the volume appropriate for a social space? IOW, would I have a markedly different experience with the music at Bar Shiru than I would have at another bar or restaurant that played cd’s or was streaming digital content? This question also seemed to aim right at the heart of the concept – would a high end audio system really add something to the experience of going to a bar and ordering a cocktail, or would that system and its fancy gear provide nothing more than novelty and atmosphere?
In his NY Times article, the listening bar experiences Ben shares come mainly from multiple visits to In Sheeps Clothing in downtown Los Angeles. There’s a paragraph in the article where Ben describes a daytime visit (In Sheeps Clothing operates as a cafe during the day) when the record Now That Everything’s Been Said by The City is on the turntable. Ben describes his experience listening to the record on this particular occasion as something of an “ah ha” moment:
“…here I really heard it. I understood something about the tactility and enlivening qualities of sound better than ever before: Sound can be a three-dimensional space in which to put your body, and in which your body may be acted upon and opened up, even when you are sitting still. I seemed to understand the physics of it: tones as standing waves, and me in the middle of them, one of them. Or, if you prefer the language of another sense, it was like seeing colors after knowing only grays.
As a natural consequence of hearing in that detail, I could also sense the physicality of the people making the music — their throats, hands, reflexes, sensibilities. While listening to that record, I felt, let’s say, that I knew Carole King’s mother.”
I found Ben’s description of his experience at In Sheeps Clothing compelling, and I hoped for a similar one at Bar Shiru. Once settled at the bar with our drinks in front of us, John and I now had a chance to turn our attention to the music and the sound of the system. Soon after it was clear to me that I was listening to vinyl played through a vacuum tube amplifier. It was also clear to me that the system had some problems.
The volume of the music, low enough to allow for conversation but certainly high enough to engage with the music was also high enough that Bar Shiru’s system should have conveyed the weight of the instruments and the clarity of the vocals, but instead I heard bass notes that should have landed solidly, sound like they were landing in a pillow. The resolution in the upper midrange was off and the vocals bled into the other instruments in an irritating way. This evening featured one of Aretha Franklin’s Atlantic recordings and her voice was not being reproduced well on Bar Shiru’s system. Instead of feeling frustrated that the volume wasn’t at the level needed to reveal the system’s full potential, I felt grateful it was being kept low.
If my observations were correct, and I believe they were, then it begs this question – does investing several TENS of thousands of dollars on a hi end sound system to provide music for a bar really make any sense? Even if the system were set up properly, which I contend it isn’t, the volumes that are really necessary to bring the analog listening experience to life are simply not practical in this context.
John and I indulged the fantasy that at the end of the evening, with the crowd presumably as loose as it ever is and closing time near on the horizon, the volume of the system would find it’s way up into a full fledged audiophile realm and those Line Magnetic speakers could really push some air, but one of the waiters at the bar popped that bubble when he told us that the volume of the system at Bar Shiru rarely ventured very far from where it was that evening.
With economics an obvious obstacle to success, Bar Shiru might be worth checking out just to experience the uniqueness of the place while it’s still around. I seriously doubt many places like Bar Shiru will open in the Bay Area and will be surprised if many more open anywhere in the US. I can appreciate the ambitions that Bar Shiru’s owners set out with when they opened it. It’s clearly more of a labor of love than anything else.
For that reason and quite a few others, I really wanted to like Bar Shiru, even love it. But in the end I’m forced to conclude that it is little more than a cool bar with high end turntables, impressive tube amps and gigantic and beautiful horn speakers fleshing out the atmosphere. In fairness, I honestly don’t see how the concept of a listening bar translates to the US period, and my experience at Bar Shiru basically confirmed that. For some the novelty of the experience might be reason enough to go to Bar Shiru. There certainly is no other place in the Bay Area like it.
Yet with some tweaks to their system and a little creativity, Bar Shiru might reach higher and closer to its full potential. More careful dialing in of their turntable adjustments would be an essential first step, and a room separate from the main bar where the volume could be pushed higher and customers could be brought in to fully understand and appreciate the capabilities of a high end analog audio system would be another.
Sitting at Bar Shiru last Thursday evening with my drink starting to work its way into by brain, a moment of clarity came upon me and I turned to John and told him something that was, frankly, a little hard to admit. I said that the audiophile hobby is a solitary one where the enthusiast spends countless hours alone with his or her system – changing, improving, tweaking, evaluating and ultimately seeking those precious moments when, with it a great record, it all comes together and the listening experience approaches ecstasy. I also admitted that I had a hard time reconciling that fact with Bar Shiru’s business model. Being an audiophile is inherently NOT social. John, not nearly as obsessive about sound as I am but a fan of great music with a very good head for business, understood my point.
Two nights after visiting Bar Shiru I mixed up a Corpse Reviver No.2 with some local gin and meyer lemon juice from my garden and sat down in my listening chair at home with a great sounding copy of Bowie’s David Live. I had finally managed to dial in the anti-skate on my Graham tonearm and there I was, in the comfort of my own home, free of the burden of fighting Bay Area traffic and free to turn my system up to stratospheric volumes. As I listened to Bowie’s rather brilliant rendition of “Jean Genie” on what is an extraordinary recording, practically seeing the musicians in front of me, I was at that moment, literally in audiophile heaven!
I wish I could recommend Bar Shiru, but I find I really can’t, at least not to other audiophiles. I would encourage someone who wants to satisfy their curiosity about the place to definitely to go and enjoy a nice drink and good record, but anyone looking for a true audiophile experience would be better off staying home, mixing a cocktail and playing one of their favorite records on their own system.