This story originally appeared in URBANIA, an online magazine based in Quebec focused on pop culture and society.

Every collector community shelters its own elusive legends—those shadowy figures who dwell within labyrinths of artifacts, drifting through the dust in thrall to their all-consuming passion.

The world of vinyl records is no exception. It, too, harbours its share of the enchanted: treasure hunters driven to chase down every last destination like a final Klondike, propelled by a singular obsession to unearth the rare groove or the impossible bargain. The line between compulsive hoarding and golden find is often razor-thin. And at the heart of this sprawling empire of the uncanny stands Sergey’s place: a babel-like outpost, halfway between an attic and a diamond mine.

This story originally appeared in URBANIA, an online magazine based in Quebec focused on pop culture and society.

Every collector community shelters its own elusive legends—those shadowy figures who dwell within labyrinths of artifacts, drifting through the dust in thrall to their all-consuming passion.

The world of vinyl records is no exception. It, too, harbours its share of the enchanted: treasure hunters driven to chase down every last destination like a final Klondike, propelled by a singular obsession to unearth the rare groove or the impossible bargain. The line between compulsive hoarding and golden find is often razor-thin. And at the heart of this sprawling empire of the uncanny stands Sergey’s place: a babel-like outpost, halfway between an attic and a diamond mine.