Introduction
When Jula’s father died, he left her his vinyl collection - close to 10,000 records that included everything from opera to 60s psych to prog rock to new wave. At first, it felt overwhelming to look at shelves and shelves of records. But this summer, Jula, who is 24 and lives in Canada, decided to “sample” a few records. A friend suggested she post the process on Instagram. “She said, ‘There are people who are your father’s age who would recognize the records, and maybe you could find a small community of people who you can connect to, to keep that alive,’” Jula said. She started randomly pulling records, recording her reactions, thoughts and commentary for albums beloved by boomers from artists like Harry Nilsson, the Moody Blues, Santana and the Beach Boys.
Her father, Richard, was a lifelong music lover who played multiple instruments and wrote songs. “He told me that when he was five years old, he would do little chores for his grandfather, and use the allowance to buy records,” Jula said. She remembers him spinning the Archies, the Monkees and Frank Sinatra when she was a child. (Jula now makes her own music under the moniker Juli.Jeli, which she describes as “experimental electronic”.) When Richard died a few years ago, those records became the only physical thing Jula had left of her father. “It’s like the last thing we have left of him, so even though they take up a lot of space, I knew I didn’t want to get rid of any.”
From Private Ritual to Public Listening Party
Jula with Lou Reed’s 1984 album New Sensations. She loved Mozart in the Seventies, a pop-y arrangement of the composer’s most famous pieces reimagined by the Argentinian composer Waldo de los Ríos. “I had no idea what it was going to be like when I put it on the turntable, but that was crazy and I actually played it for my friends,” she said. “And Marianne Faithfull, I’d never heard of her before, but I love her voice.”
Jula doesn’t research an album before spinning it. She likes to go in as blindly as possible. That’s led to a few pronunciation blunders. “One was really embarrassing, that guy from the Talking Heads, I said David By-ron,” she said, of David Byrne. Turning such a private act into a social media project helps Jula process her feelings. She calls her account “a listening party” and likes to read comments on her posts. “These people really keep my father alive for me, because he was always talking about music,” she said. “I’ll mention an album, and someone will give me a fact about it, or a little tidbit, and that makes me feel like my father’s in the room, because that’s what he would be doing.”
Grief, Community, and Discovery
Some of Jula’s followers say that her account helps them navigate their own grief. “My dad passed away a few years ago and although he wasn’t a record collector, this account really helps me put things into perspective when I find things that he left behind,” one commenter wrote. “They take on a whole new meaning and tell me so much more about who he was than I ever knew.”
There’s also quite a bit of nerding out - especially when Jula revisits dad-rock favorites. “Bought this album when it came out,” one person commented under her review of Lou Reed’s New Sensations. “Love it, a more reflective, older Lou Reed making observations of what is going on around him. Still playing it.”
When Jula spun the Cars’ 1978 eponymous album, another follower showed their age by reminiscing: “Had the first on vinyl and 8 Track! The first two albums are a soundtrack to my high school freshman and sophomore years.”
Care, Craft, and the Analog Appreciation
Now, she’s learning how to take care of records, alphabetize her collection, and listen to an album all the way through instead of going straight to the single. She’s come to appreciate the analog. “There’s something really beautiful about having physical copies of music,” Jula said. “We can laugh, but when I die, if I have kids, what are they going to be left with - a streaming library?”
Even simply picking up a record that her father once held feels meaningful, and brings Jula closer to her dad. “That’s something he held before, and my ears are going to the same sonic spaces as he did,” she said. “The scratches I can see on the records were scratches that he made.”
In her own words, the project has become a healing ritual. “This whole project for me has, in a really nice way, made me deal with my grief, maybe for the first time [and] in the happiest way,” Jula said. “Her father always wanted to be a disc jockey, Jula says, so sharing his music is a way to posthumously honour him.”
From a Personal to a Broader Musical Conversation
“The way we listen to music has shifted so much because of technology,” she notes. “I’d love to create longer-form content or talk more about listening as a daily ritual-it’s really changed how I move through the world.” Major media outlets began reaching out, and that’s when it hit how much the project resonated beyond social media. “My dad’s Polish roots and the Polish music we grew up with were always present in our home,” she adds, linking family history with musical taste.
She also reflects on the responsibilities and possibilities of sharing intimate memories publicly. “I’m learning so much-even the way I talk about music is evolving. My ears are more tuned in now. When you listen to full albums, you always find something to enjoy.”
Practical Details and Ongoing Conversations
Starting last September, Jula would choose an album each day, listening all the way through, and sharing her thoughts on the music online. She’s documented her first impressions of about 150 albums since then. She doesn’t research the albums beforehand; often the hit songs or artist names are familiar, but some deep cuts remain unknown until she gives them a spin.
Music remains a daily ritual and a bridge to her father’s memory, with comments from followers offering new facts and perspectives. “They keep my father alive for me, because he was always talking about music,” she says. “And it’s not something I have to avoid anymore.”
Annotated Track Highlights
- Mustard by Roy Wood - experimental and humorous sounds; a playful exploration of sonic space.
- The Cars by the Cars (1978) - a bold pop exploration with catchy hooks and refined production.
- New Sensations by Lou Reed (1984) - a reflective, older perspective on contemporary life.
- LA Is My Lady by Frank Sinatra (1984) - a collaboration with Quincy Jones that blends classic vocal phrasing with modern arrangements.
Ultimately, the project reveals how vinyl can function as a tactile, durable vessel for memory, identity, and shared culture, especially across generations and geographies. It shows how a private act can transform into a communal healing space-one record at a time.
