I LIKE the idea of a bar that sells vinyl records, so here’s to The Record Cafe opening in Bradford.

As reported in the T&A, Keith Wildman aims to open the bar, incorporating record sales on a mezzanine floor, on North Parade within weeks. He hopes that giving Bradford’s independent record scene a shot in the arm will draw music-lovers back to the city.

I hope so too. To those of us who grew up listening to vinyl, record shops played a significant role in our formative years. Their demise has been inevitable, given the gale-force impact of the downloading culture, but it’s always sad to see a record shop close down, like seeing an old pub boarded up. Online shuffling has, of course, made music widely accessible, but there’s nothing like the thrill of opening up the sleeve of an LP you have long coveted, and saved up for.

The highlight of my summer, year, quite possibly life, was being at Kate Bush’s Before the Dawn live show in August, and when she sang the opening line of her haunting Ninth Wave concept collection, (bear with me), I thought of the teenage me sitting in my bedroom, playing Kate’s Hounds of Love album for the first time, devouring every lyric. As Cheryl would say on X Factor, “it literally blew my mind”. Thirty years later I saw it performed live, which moved me to tears.

I’m not sure downloading 3,000 songs onto an MP3 player would have the same emotional pull, three decades on. Record shops hold a misty-eyed nostalgic appeal for middle-aged romantics, but I believe there’s still a viable place for them on the high street. Vinyl has undergone a renaissance in recent years and many young bands release material on records rather than into thin air.

To survive, record shops need to wise up what to customers want. They must appeal to more than just a few vinyl nerds, namely 50-something blokes hunched over the German prog rock section. They should be bright, attractive places to spend time in, free of the eerie quiet and pompous music snobbery that comes with record fairs.

They should stock new and independent material as well as vintage vinyl, and they need staff who are passionate about music and embrace every quirky request as a challenge.

Record shops can offer the personal connection that the internet can’t. By meeting customers’ needs, and diversifying, they can bring record-buyers back into Bradford and introduce a new generation to the life-long joys of vinyl ownership. Keith Wildman has the right idea with his bar, charcuterie and record sales combo. I look forward to flicking through French imports of early Kate Bush EPs, followed by a craft beer or two.