Kung Chi-shing adjusts the needle on a Lionel Hampton vinyl, and suddenly a gentle vibraphone rings out over the chatter of afternoon cafe-goers at Coda, a 520 sq ft space in Sai Ying Pun.Coda is one of a new clutch of listening bars, where quiet appreciation of music is intended to take priority over highly refined drinks and conversation. The concept has a long history in Japan but has recently spread worldwide, reaching hip neighbourhoods in New York, London, Berlin and beyond. So far so cool, but for all the “romance” of the vinyl revival, the listening bar model demands significant concessions. The most fundamental tension is between atmosphere and revenue. A listening environment requires relative silence; a profitable bar requires conversation and consumption. The two do not always coexist peacefully.Vinyl on display at Coda. Photo: HandoutKung learned this the hard way. He tried playing a Beethoven vinyl at Coda. “People talked so loudly,” he recalls. “I printed a sign asking people to speak more quietly, but eventually I stopped.”He now sticks to jazz – a genre that’s historically paired with conversation, smoking and drinking – a compromise he has made his peace with.Unsurprisingly, like the purist Japanese versions, at Coda, music is the protagonist. Everything else – simple salads, croissants, wines – plays second fiddle.Vintage Technics speakers and a turntable welcome you at the door. They sit opposite a wall of vinyl records that customers are encouraged to browse on their own, as a deliberate gesture towards a “communal” listening experience. “A customer stashes his collection here, fresh every other week,” Kung says, gesturing to the shelves. “He’s basically our biggest supplier – as if we could afford to buy new records ourselves.”Coda sometimes hosts jazz performances and cultural events. Photo: Handout