Seoul listening bars: Where to find chilled LP bars and mocktails. Photo / Unsplash
In a city famed for its high-energy, Seoul’s LP bars offer a softer, more soulful way to experience the night, writes Wanaka Yamasaki.
When I returned from my trip to Seoul, people were quick to ask about the country’s drinking culture. Did I try the classic “somaek” combo of soju plus beer? Did I pair my jeon (Korean savoury pancakes) with cups of makgeolli (rice wine)?
As well as watching baseball, drinking is one of South Korea’s treasured pastimes. Sharing a drink with friends and family over sizzling barbecued meats and fish jerky is as routine as going for a walk in the morning. It’s a part of everyday life.
The nation’s nightlife has a strong heartbeat. It’s unrelenting and pulsing. Walk down any street at lunchtime and you’ll find an aproned imo, auntie, stationed outside, setting up plastic crates and tables for the night ahead.
But as a casual teetotaller who has the rare drink, the pervasive drinking culture in South Korea was intimidating for me. I was hesitant about how I would navigate the nightlife in a country where fold-out bar tables and stools spill out on to the street once the clock strikes five.
My saving grace? LP bars.
LP bars or listening bars are commonplace across South Korea. Believed to have originated in post-war Japan as coffee houses, listening bars have sparked a new wave of younger generations seeking the experience of laid-back socialisation and retro listening.
There’s a real hunger in Seoul for aesthetic spaces that give you a moment to breathe in this nocturnal city. Since the 1990s, locals have been finding solace in hipster coffee shops. The kind that are lavished with warm, wooded accents and have small menus of bespoke and specialty drinks. LP bars have quickly followed suit.
The warm, homely atmosphere of the LP bar is more akin to the intimacy found at coffee houses and cafes than the liveliness brought on by nightclubs.
Think traditional speakeasy without the secret password. They’re often small, warmly lit spaces where classic jazz standards play on records through large speakers. Bartenders and owners curate the music to be nostalgic for an era most patrons never experienced but yearn for. Well-loved vinyl records line the shelves against vintage stereo pieces. Many customers come alone; some stay for hours; others stop by for one drink.
On my final night in Seoul, I avoided the busy streets of Itaewon where I was staying and headed towards Hannam-dong. Down a twisty, unsuspecting street with restaurants and cosmetic clinics, you’ll find 232seoul.
The LP bar is decked out in mid-century modern decor. Shelves are filled with vinyl records. Vintage swivel chairs and plush sofas fill the room. Smooth jazz plays softly. A small balcony door lets in the warm autumn air.
The stars of the menu are the seasonal cocktails, categorised by sweet to sour, experimental to tame, strong to low alcohol content or none at all.
In New Zealand, I’ve found that non-alcoholic drinks are usually limited to canned sodas, water, a virgin mojito if you’re lucky. But like Auckland’s Panacea, 232seoul not only brings elevated non-alcohol and low-alcohol options to the table, but it also treats them with care and technicality.
I ordered a tropical mocktail with bursts of pineapple, tangy citrus, and hints of rosemary. Each sip captured the feeling of a lingering summer and imminent autumn and was miles better than your average lemonade.
I also tried their low-alcohol option: a tiramisu cocktail served in a cone-shaped potted cup. It was creamy, nutty and sweet with cocoa dustings draped over the generous layer of mascarpone on top. While I’m no spirits expert or sommelier, I do know this tiramisu cocktail was delicious.
Whether you’re an avid mixologist or simply out to enjoy the rotating cast of DJs who pop by on occasion, you don’t have to do too much digging to find an LP bar in Seoul that suits you.
Comfortable as its name proclaims, the stylish Komfy in Hapjeong-dong is worth a visit. Or enjoy a drink and the plumpest custard pudding at the cafe by day, LP bar by night, Hills & Europa.
Although New Zealand is still far from trading local pubs for LP bars, check out nami record bar on Auckland’s Ponsonby Rd. Straddling the aesthetics of Seoul’s LP bars and Auckland’s lively bar scene, it’s an approachable entry point.
For a country that doesn’t sleep, like South Korea, LP bars offer an escape from the noise. While still giving you a taste of their vibrant nightlife, LP bars sit at the intersection of the country’s fierce drinking culture and hunger for low-pressure socialising spaces.
We ended up staying for a couple of hours at 232seoul, enjoying smooth jazz standards and R’n’B classics. There was no pressure to leave after an hour. There was no pressure to keep ordering. Simply existing and connecting in the warmly lit LP bar was enough.
The writer travelled at their own expense.