What Tracks & Tales Wants to Achieve
By Rafi Mercer
Tracks & Tales is a simple idea. And simple, as I’ve come to learn, is different to easy.
Easy is casual, effortless, disposable. Simple is clear, disciplined, enduring.
The world does not need another complicated platform, another distracted stream of content.
What it needs — what I believe we can give — is focus.
The focus is this: to help people find the best sounding venues in the world.
That is all.
Not the trendiest, not the most expensive, not the loudest.
The best sounding. Rooms where music is tuned with precision, where silence is respected, where listening still matters.
To build a guide to sound.
One day, that will take the form of Tracks & Tales Stars — a system of recognition that, like Michelin, sets out standards and awards excellence. But for now, the task is more elemental. Each listing is a step towards the guide, each essay a piece of the archive. Together, they form a picture of a global culture that is emerging, fragile but insistent.
That is our first ambition: focus.
The second ambition can be divided into three things.
First, the story of venues. This is the Atlas, the store we are building of listening bars, hi-fi cafés, whisky lounges, jazz kissaten, and all the other variations the world invents. These are the spaces where sound is cared for, where albums are honoured, where listening is treated as something more than background. The store of venues is not simply a directory, but a living guide — essays written with care, photographs chosen with atmosphere, maps that help you find silence in the middle of a city.
Second, the story of music. Not the endless churn of singles and playlists, but the deep story of albums. Albums that carry weight when heard whole, albums that work best in the atmosphere of a listening bar, albums that can also transform a home listening night. To listen to an album in full is to experience the intention of the artist, the sequencing, the architecture. We will tell those stories. The rediscovered classics, the overlooked gems, the new releases that deserve attention. I think of an album like Cassandra Wilson’s Blue Light ’Til Dawn, or Talk Talk’s Spirit of Eden, or Max Richter’s Voices — works that ask you to stay, to sit, to hear the arc unfold. These are not songs for shuffle but albums for immersion. They are part of the Tracks & Tales story.
Third, the lifestyle around it. For listening is not only about sound, but about how you shape the moment. A whisky poured with care, a coffee brewed slowly, a room arranged for listening, an evening shared with friends. The lifestyle is not an accessory; it is the frame. It is what makes the experience repeatable, sustainable, desirable. To live the listening way is to carry the ethic into daily life. To choose silence over noise, fidelity over distraction, presence over absence. This is not just about bars or albums, but about how we live.
These three — venues, albums, lifestyle — form the core of Tracks & Tales. They are the pillars that will hold everything else.
The third ambition is to make this a way of life.
Finding the best sounding venues is not about elitism. It is not reserved for audiophiles or collectors. Everywhere can become that if it tries. A café can dim its lights and invest in speakers. A bar can decide to play albums in full instead of playlists. A home can be arranged around sound rather than screens. The logic is simple: if you make space for listening, people will return.
Because people are hungry for this, even if they do not yet know it. They are tired of noise, tired of distraction, tired of the constant demand for attention. They long for spaces where they can sit and listen, where sound is cared for, where atmosphere matters. And when they find it, they come back. Again and again.
The lifestyle of Tracks & Tales is not about luxury, though it can feel luxurious. It is not about exclusivity, though it can feel rare. It is about simplicity. To find the best sounding venues. To listen to the best albums. To shape moments where sound matters. That is all. And it is enough.
So what do we want Tracks & Tales to achieve?
We want to make listening central again. To show that music is not content but culture. To map the places where sound is still treated with devotion. To remind people that silence is architecture, that fidelity is care, that presence is a gift.
We want to tell stories — of rooms, of records, of rituals. Stories that entertain, educate, inspire. Stories that invite readers to explore, to travel, to listen. Stories that build a global community around a simple ethic: sound matters.
And we want to create a lifestyle that anyone can join. Not a niche, not a club, not a privilege, but a way of living differently. A way of listening deeply. A way of shaping time.
Simple is different to easy. This will take time, care, attention. But it is worth it. Because in a world of noise, Tracks & Tales is about focus. In a world of distraction, it is about devotion. In a world of consumption, it is about presence.
That is what we want to achieve.
Rafi Mercer writes about the spaces where music matters. For more stories from Tracks & Tales, subscribe, or click here to read more.
