It started the way all good noir stories do — with an obsession, a city that never sleeps, and a basement full of vinyl that demanded to see the light.
The year was 2009. The economy was in freefall, record stores were closing like curtain calls on a bad play, and everyone who knew anything said vinyl was dead. They were wrong. They're always wrong about the things that matter.
Marcus Cole had 4,000 records in a two-bedroom apartment in Logan Square. His wife gave him a choice: the records go, or you go. He chose a third option — he found a storefront on Michigan Avenue with a leaky roof, no heat, and rent he could almost afford.
The first day, he sold three records and a dream. A Blue Note pressing of Art Blakey's Moanin' to a jazz professor from DePaul. A VG+ copy of Zeppelin IV to a kid who'd never heard it on vinyl. And a sealed copy of the Bullitt soundtrack to a film student who cried actual tears when she held it.
That was enough. The shop was alive.
Seventeen years later, the roof doesn't leak anymore. The heat works. And the records — all 12,000 of them — have found their permanent home. The city's changed. The neighborhood's changed. But the needle still drops the same way it always did: with anticipation, with ceremony, with the understanding that what you're about to hear is irreplaceable.
A digital file is a ghost. A record is a body. You hold it, you clean it, you place the needle with intention. The ritual matters. The format is the message.
We don't stock everything. We stock what we'd play at home. Every record in this shop has been listened to, graded, and deemed worthy. If it's on the shelf, it earned its place.
We grade honestly. We price fairly. Every record's condition is listed — no surprises at the counter. We'd rather lose a sale than lose your trust.
We love the hits. But we live for the B-side, the overlooked pressing, the private label release that never got its due. The thrill is in the discovery.
"Reel Noir Records doesn't just sell vinyl — it curates an experience. Walking in feels like stepping onto a film set where the soundtrack is always perfect."
"One of America's last great independent record shops. The jazz section alone is worth the trip to Chicago."
"Marcus Cole has built something rare: a record shop with a genuine point of view. The Saul Bass–inspired interiors are just the beginning."
"Best Record Store in Chicago. Again. For the fifth year running. At this point, it's not even a contest."