Listless and in need of stimulation, I ventured out alone on a Friday evening in late August. It was one of those hot, sticky days of summer in the South that linger, much like the weight of music and melodies that speak to your soul.
And so I found myself at Commune, a listening room and wine bar in Avondale Estates, east of Atlanta; the night was crooning to a close, after hours of music commandeered by DJ and record collector Bruce Phillips.
Phillips’ set, played entirely on vinyl, transported listeners on a musical journey of the African diaspora, touching the genres of soul, Brazilian groove, and jazz fusion. Over a span of four sangria-soaked hours—where I enjoyed every note of the apricot eau de vie, peach, pineapple, and spiced citrus drink—the spirited vocals of Ramsey Lewis, Elias Silva, Roberto Roena, Hubert Laws, and Bill Summers spilled through the room.
As the room emptied at the end of the night, the last notes of Roy Ayers “Everybody Loves The Sunshine” echoed into silence. I thought to myself how much that moment, a night where music had fully satiated me after walking in burdened and listless, was the reason I’d ventured out to begin with. I was leaving full and comforted, buoyed among the side conversations I’d had with other music lovers and Phillips himself throughout the night.
As someone exploring music more deeply as it connects me to my late parents, I’ve been looking for physical spaces to gather with others. Not a club but somewhere that still feels alive yet more connective. More intentional, too, as the isolation of the pandemic still lingers.
Really, I was searching for listening rooms like Commune where music truly is the centerpiece of evenings which every gentle laugh or soft conversation revolves around. My pursuit, it seems, is shared by many others packing out these once-novel venues—the newest iteration for sipping wine and drinking cocktails, while music strums in the background.
Commune and similar listening rooms or bars are a nod to the Japanese kissa, or kissaten, which first appeared in Japan in the late 19th century. The listening of Western jazz, however, within them happened in the late 1920s and reached the climax of popularity in the post–World War II 1940s and ‘50s. The calamities of war shuttered many of the earliest kissa, as entire collections of jazz records were lost. The modern resurgence represents a time of reconnection with jazz and places encouraging deep listening.
This essence partly inspired Commune co-owners Zopi Kristjanson and Chris Devoe to open in 2024. The two music lovers took a leap of faith diving into food and beverage, taking advantage of the “perfect windowless space” in Avondale Estates.
“Music, wine and food have been at the center of gatherings for thousands of years, so we feel it’s important to offer a place to enjoy all these things in an elevated space that’s not crazy expensive,” Kristjanson said. Armed with their music knowledge, Kristjanson and Devoe equipped the listening room and wine bar with a JJ322 tube amp, Klipsch AK6 speakers and sound-absorbing panels along the walls and ceilings that look ornamental and decorative at first glance.
But it’s not just the acoustics and audio that sets the tone for a transformative music experience. Low-to-the-ground wrap-around couches invite close conversation over a revolving menu of charcuterie, brioche rolls or pasta puttanesca. Table service at Commune is seamless, as glasses of wine or fresh cocktails appear almost unprompted.
Courtesy of Legend Has It
