Cory Miller, aka DJ Good Grief, founded the mobile Record Klub in 2013.
It’s Record Fair night at 93’ Til in Montrose, and the vinyl-covered hangout is filled with curious diners and guests buzzing around storage boxes full of records. The stacks of vinyl—a combination of soul, funk, R&B, rock, disco, jazz, soundtracks, old rarities, and new releases—belong to DJ Brian Powell, who is spinning tunes below a hot pink neon sign that reads, “Music for the people.” But Powell is not just playing the records. He’s also selling them.
Despite the age of music streaming, physical records are back in high demand. The Recording Industry Association of America reported that vinyl music purchases in the US reached $1.04 billion in 2025, marking the 19th consecutive year of growth. That’s not bad for a medium whose sales peaked at $1.5 billion in 1978.
With vinyl’s return to being a billion-dollar business, the search for physical music is going far beyond the regular record haunts. DJs and collectors like Powell are branching out to sell their collections at public events, including record swaps, local markets, and club gigs—a movement that is aiding the revival.
After nearly 15 years of DJing and collecting 80,000 45s, Powell knew he had enough wax to start a side business, but “you’re not gonna get rich doing this,” Powell says. “None of those guys are making much money,” he adds. Many record store owners are earning just enough to live, and while some shops are thriving, others have been forced to call it quits. This year, the last remaining location of the beloved music chain Soundwaves shuttered. None of that stops music fans from asking when he’ll open one of his own. Still, like many other DJs in the city, Powell chooses to keep selling records as a side hustle—online on websites like Discogs and eBay, and at scheduled pop-ups.
Cory Miller, better known as DJ Good Grief, was his inspiration. The 30-year music veteran and DJ-producer would always pass along his spare vinyl to aspiring DJs. Following a successful pop-up during a gig at Midtown’s Alley Kat Bar & Lounge nearly a decade ago, he began selling titles from his collection and encouraged fellow DJs to do the same. “I was like, ‘We can’t just keep holding onto all these records,’” says Miller, who reasoned at the time that they could start a shop or pop-up to make extra money, particularly at a time when venues were cutting their hours and wages were decreasing.
Miller eventually launched Record Klub, a pop-up where he brings in records for sale during his DJ gigs, including his monthly residency at the HiFi at the Finn on the second Saturday of every month. He’s even negotiated agreements with certain venues to DJ at a lower rate in exchange for the opportunity to sell his records there, “just to kind of make up for it,” he says.
Widely known as DJ Elevated, Kazembe Gray has also been getting into the vinyl-collecting-and-selling game over the past decade, sourcing entire collections from websites like Whatnot and Facebook Marketplace, and hunting for vinyl while DJing abroad. He recalls once wandering into the home of a man selling records on the streets of Ghana. “It’s literally records piled up to the ceiling, of, like, African and worldly music,” he says. He spent hours sifting through the stacks that day.
Vinyl fans browse through the collection of Kazembe Gray (DJ Elevated).
Gray founded Third Ward Vinyl Club earlier this year, holding record pop-ups at neighborhood spots Doshi House, Wonderlikewander, and Third Ward Blooms, owned and operated by his children’s mother, Brittany Mayfield. “My living room just started to become my record storage, and I didn’t have any shelving,” Gray explains. “I felt like, okay, this could be a cool thing”—a DJ, known for his top-tier musical choices, selling his personal records. “[There’s] just an excitement about that,” he adds.
Other local creators are in on the scene, too. Montrose-based photographer Daniel Jackson, who has shot local bands like The Suffers and Ghost Party, has collected records since his teens. “I grew up a Christian kid that wasn’t able to listen to secular music, so when I got outta the house at 17, I just started buying the cheapest music,” he says. A job at Sears allowed him extra money to buy stacks of records, and his fascination grew from there. “I’ve just always held onto them,” he says. “Now, I’m 50 years old, and so I’ve got kind of a long history with physical media in general.”
Jackson began selling at Insomnia Gallery’s monthly Punk Rock Garage Sale before moving his collection of around 7,000 LPs and 12-inch records to venues like Dan Electro’s in the Heights and Midtown beer garden Axelrad, where he launched the venue’s monthly indoor vinyl swap. Aside from being the man behind Good Junk Vintage Records (which sells “records off a folding table in the fourth-largest city in America,” as stated in its Instagram bio), Jackson has also hosted pop-ups at Montrose businesses like Jardin and Little Dreamer Coffee. “That’s kind of my vision: to bring music and records outside of the record convention setting and into bars [and] restaurants,” he says. “I really want to be where the people are.”
93’ Til is one of several “record bar” operations in Houston where vinyl is not only a part of the decor. Co-owner Lung Ly says hosting a regular record market was the next logical step to the vinyl listening sessions they already have. “It’s on brand for us,” says Ly. “Also, everybody eats, you know? The DJ gets to sell his records. I get to make a little money. I think it’s called—what’s the word—synergy.”
There are always some good finds when DJ Elevated organizes a sale.
Elsewhere, Museum District’s Mo’ Brunch + Brews and Sugar Land’s Vino & Vinyl Supper Club have record-filled shelves diners can flip through after a meal. Downtown’s Off the Record Listening Bar and Montrose watering holes The Flat and Hotel Saint Augustine’s Listening Room also base much of their themes around vinyl, and Houston mom-and-pop stores like Montrose’s Cactus Music and Sig’s Lagoon in Midtown are easy go-tos. You could also pick up a few titles (and a houseplant) at one of Blessings Plants, Herbs & Music’s two locations in the city.
For vinyl lovers, it’s not just about getting paid to do and sell what they love. It’s also about creating a community of vinyl fans here in Houston. Jackson is filled with joy when people attend his Axelrad record swap looking to either build or unload their collections. There’s something about hanging with folks who appreciate holding music in their hands and giving it their undivided attention.
“It’s an intentional thing to sit there with a record and open it up and say, ‘This is the thing I’m doing at the time,’” he says. “I’m not putting it on in the background. I’m not hitting Bluetooth.” Instead, you’ll find him soaking it in, because “what we’re selling and what we’re spinning,” he says, “…is live art.”
