Amsterdam and its record shops
Episode 9 of the Vinyl Cities series
In the mid-nineties a teenager called Antal Heitlager used to take the overnight coach from Amsterdam to London, spend the day in record shops, and take the overnight coach home again, because he couldn't afford a bed. At university he met Christiaan Macdonald. Together they bought a stock of house records off a shop in Zaandam and started selling them by mail order out of a student house. This was before Discogs, before the internet did any of this for you. In 1997 the thing they had built got a name — Rush Hour — and today it is a shop, a label and a distributor that the rest of the world orders from.
Start there, because it explains the shape of this city better than any genre does.
Amsterdam is not London, which had an empire of studios; not Berlin, which had a wall and cheap rooms; not Milan, which had an industry. Amsterdam was a port that got very good at a specific thing: moving records — buying them somewhere, selling them somewhere else, and knowing the difference. That single habit produced the whole scene you're about to walk through. It is why the shops here are so narrowly specialised, why so many of them turned into record labels, and why the second-hand bins hold things that have no business being in a small northern European city.
Three facts sit underneath it.
There is one of the world's largest record pressing plants twenty minutes away. The factory at Haarlem started in 1958 as Artone, making seven-inch singles. CBS bought half of it in 1966 and all of it in 1969; through the seventies it pressed over fifty million records a year; in the eighties more than thirty-five million copies of Thriller came out of it. After the CBS-Sony merger it became Sony's main vinyl plant for Europe, and in June 1998 Ton and Mieke Vermeulen bought it and renamed it Record Industry. It still runs, on more than forty presses. You can't visit — it's a factory, not a museum, and it isn't in Amsterdam anyway. But an extraordinary quantity of European vinyl passed physically through this corner of the country, and a good deal of it stayed.
The Dutch colonial past put records in these bins, not just people. Most albums cut by Surinamese artists in the late seventies and early eighties were recorded in Dutch studios or pressed by Dutch companies. That is a fact about infrastructure, and it has a direct consequence for anyone flipping through a crate on the Ferdinand Bolstraat: this music is here because the musicians and their audiences were here. Lieve Hugo, the singer they called the king of kaseko, was born in Paramaribo in 1934 and died in Amsterdam in 1975, living in the Bijlmermeer. Ronald Snijders, whose A Safe Return is the record at the end of this guide, made it in the Netherlands in 1980. These are working Dutch records with a Surinamese lineage — not discoveries, and not anybody's lost treasure.
And the shops became labels. Red Light Records, tucked behind a gate in the red-light district, is run by Abel Nagengast and Tako Reyenga, who with Jamie Tiller founded Music From Memory in 2013 — a reissue label that has put half a shelf of forgotten music back into print. Rush Hour did the same thing with the Surinamese catalogue, most visibly on the compilation Surinam Funk Force. In Amsterdam the counter and the catalogue are the same business. Nowhere else in this series is that so consistently true.
What it means practically: there is no supermarket model here. Every shop is a specialism held by somebody who knows it. Concerto is the exception that proves it.
The Old Centre: Nine Shops in Fifteen Minutes
This is the densest cluster in the city, and everything in it is within a quarter of an hour on foot of Amsterdam Centraal.
Rush Hour Records (Spuistraat 110, 12 min walk from Centraal, Mon 12-6, Tue-Thu 11-6, Fri-Sat 11-7, Sun 1-6) is the institution. Founded in 1997, it grew from a mail-order operation into a shop, a label and a distribution arm with long-standing ties to Detroit and Chicago, and it has been the training ground for a generation of the city's DJs. Don't mistake it for a dance shop: house and techno are the spine, but the racks run through disco, hip hop, soul, jazz, Brazilian, African and reggae, new and used. If you buy one record in Amsterdam and want it to mean Amsterdam, buy it here.
KILLACUTZ Records (Nieuwe Nieuwstraat 21-hs, Mon 10-6, Tue 2-6, Wed-Sun 10-6) sits a few streets away and is the working DJ's shop: house, techno, electro, trance, hip hop, with more turntables on the floor than anywhere else in town, so you never queue to hear something. The basement holds the used stock and a crate the shop itself calls diggers' heaven. Note the Tuesday — afternoons only — and note that it opens at ten on a Sunday, which makes it the best possible start to an Amsterdam Sunday.
Red Light Records (Oudezijds Achterburgwal 133, Mon-Sat 12-6, closed Sun) is not a shop you stumble into. It's inside a former brothel complex, through a gate and down a passage, and you ring a buzzer. The stock is small and about three levels above the average: disco, soul and funk, afro and global, electronics, indie and wave, Balearic and mellow, old house and techno, nearly all second-hand and nearly all chosen rather than bought in bulk. There are decks to listen on. Ask what came in this week rather than for a title.
Waxwell Records (Gasthuismolensteeg 8, daily 11:15-6) is the funk and soul address — R&B, latin-jazz, hip hop from old-school twelves to jazz-funk 45s, Brazilian LPs and Dutch breaks, restocked most weeks. Prices sit above the city average and the shop knows what it holds; that's the trade for the depth. Leave your bag at the counter without being asked and you'll get on fine.
Bordello A Parigi (Oudezijds Kolk 71) is the sharpest-edged shop in Amsterdam and it opens on Fridays and Saturdays only, 12-6. Read that twice, because it's the single most common way to waste a trip here. It began as a label and opened the shop in 2011; the racks are Italo disco, electro, synth, minimal wave, Balearic, ambient and edits, curated to a mood so consistent that you can describe what you want in a sentence and walk out with three records you'd never heard of.
Platypus Record Shop (Zeedijk 45A, daily 12-8) has the latest closing time in the city, which makes it the answer to the evening when everything else has shut. Two owners who talk, a wall of collectables, and a spread of hip hop, R&B, jazz and left-field records from everywhere.
Three more in the same walk: ZAP Records (Paleisstraat 137, daily 12-7) is vinyl only, two floors, well kept, generalist in the best sense; Damn Good Records (Nieuwezijds Voorburgwal 371A, daily 11-6) is small, warm, strong on collectable hip hop, with a five-euro crate outside; and RecordFriend Elpees (Sint Antoniesbreestraat 64, closed Mon, otherwise 11-6, Wed and Sun from 12) is a basement of five-to-ten-euro used records, down a very steep flight of stairs, with records hand-labelled "tip!" by the owner.
Jordaan and Haarlemmerdijk
Ten to fifteen minutes west of the centre on foot, and a slower kind of afternoon.
Distortion Records (Westerstraat 244, Tue-Wed 11-6, Thu 11-9, Fri 11-6, Sat 10-6, closed Mon and Sun) is a warehouse pretending to be a shop: enormous stock, stacked in crates and boxes, navigable mainly by the owner, who does it from memory. Reviews split between despair and devotion and both are fair. The trick everyone eventually learns: find the record in their Discogs store, order it, collect it in the shop, usually next day. Go in person only if you have two free hours and want to be surprised.
InDeep'n'Dance Records (Rozengracht 60, Mon-Tue and Thu-Sat 1-6, closed Wed and Sun) is a small deep house and techno shop with a proper system, a resident dog and cat, and a merch line that became famous in its own right. Velvet Music is twenty metres away at Rozengracht 40 — new and used, wider and more mainstream, good for filling gaps.
Flesch Records/Books (Noorderkerkstraat 16, Thu-Fri 12-6, Sat 10-6) is tiny and idiosyncratic: jazz, classical, a large and rewarding 45s section with a lot of French chanson, plus books and — genuinely — fruit and jam. Go on a Saturday morning and combine it with the Noordermarkt farmers' market a minute away.
Second Life Music (Prinsengracht 366, Tue-Sat 1-5, cash only) is an old-fashioned canal-side second-hand shop with a narrow opening window and low prices. Discostars (Haarlemmerdijk 86) is a deep back-catalogue shop where, honestly, the CDs are stronger than the vinyl — worth it for obscure titles rather than for digging.
The South: Utrechtsestraat, Weteringschans, De Pijp
Concerto (Utrechtsestraat 54-60, Mon 12-6, Tue-Sat 10-6, Sun 12-6) is the big one — several shopfronts on the same street, new and used kept separate, and a café inside where you can sit down. It's the only shop in Amsterdam where three hours pass without you leaving the building, and the used section is where the value is.
Record Palace (Weteringschans 33-A, Mon 12-6, Tue-Sat 11-6, Sun 12-6) is dense and old-school: a large 45s section, collectable jazz LPs you won't see elsewhere, a lot of rock, and a bargain basement. Prices on the wall stock are high but the stock justifies them. Don't turn up in the last half hour.
Record Mania (Ferdinand Bolstraat 30, Mon-Sat 10-6, Sun 12-6) is the De Pijp generalist and — for this guide's purposes — the important one: an unusually broad world music section at reasonable prices, which is where Surinamese and Caribbean-Dutch records tend to surface, plus a small room given over to 45s. The Albert Cuyp market is two minutes away for lunch.
Amstel Antiques Records (Amstel 110, closed Wed, otherwise 12-5:30) closes early and photographs are not welcome, but the rock, punk and metal shelves run deeper than you'd expect.
Recommended Itineraries
The centre, half a day. Rush Hour, KILLACUTZ, Waxwell, Red Light and Platypus, in that order, all on foot, finishing on the Zeedijk where the shutter stays up until eight. Add Bordello A Parigi if it's a Friday or Saturday — and plan the whole trip around that if Italo is what you came for.
Jordaan, an afternoon. Distortion first while your energy is high, then Rozengracht for InDeep'n'Dance and Velvet, then a brown café. On a Saturday, start instead at Flesch and the Noordermarkt.
The south, half a day. Concerto for two hours, Record Palace ten minutes away, then a tram to De Pijp for Record Mania and the Albert Cuyp. Dinner in the neighbourhood.
Sunday. Amsterdam is the rare European city where Sunday works: KILLACUTZ from ten, then Waxwell, ZAP, Damn Good, Platypus, Concerto, Record Mania and Record Palace. Monday is the weak day here, not Sunday.
Practicalities
Everything is walkable, and the trams cover the rest. From Centraal the old centre is five to fifteen minutes on foot. For the south, take a tram. Contactless payment works directly at the gates and on board; day passes are worth it from the third ride. The ferry to Amsterdam Noord, from behind Centraal, is free.
The clock is the real constraint. Most shops shut at six. Platypus (eight) and ZAP (seven) are the exceptions. That means a digging day here starts early and ends before dinner — plan accordingly, and don't leave a shop across town for "later".
The three traps. Bordello A Parigi opens Friday and Saturday only. KILLACUTZ opens Tuesday afternoons only. Flesch opens Thursday to Saturday, Second Life Tuesday to Saturday 1-5. Between them they account for most of the wasted journeys in this city.
Cash still matters. Second Life Music is cash only, and the IJ-Hallen flea market charges entry with no cash machines nearby.
Prices are capital-city prices. The selection is superb and the shops know their stock; several are frankly expensive on collectables. Keep Discogs open. Haggling works at the markets — IJ-Hallen, Waterlooplein — and barely at all in the specialist shops.
Markets. IJ-Hallen in Noord is one of Europe's largest flea markets, roughly 750 stalls across two halls, one weekend a month, reached by the free ferry — early morning for the choice, Sunday afternoon for the prices. Waterlooplein runs Mon-Sat 9:30-6. Noordermarkt is the Saturday farmers' market next to Flesch.
October is ADE. The Amsterdam Dance Event takes over the city in late October (21-25 in 2026), with in-store sessions and record shop crawls in the daytime programme. Best week to meet the scene; worst week to find a bargain or a hotel room.
Frequently Asked Questions
Where are the record shops in Amsterdam? Three clusters: the old centre between Spui and the Zeedijk (nine shops within fifteen minutes on foot), the Jordaan and Haarlemmerdijk to the west, and the southern belt along Utrechtsestraat, Weteringschans and into De Pijp.
Which is the best record shop in Amsterdam? Rush Hour is the institution — shop, label and distributor since 1997. Concerto is the largest and the best all-rounder. Red Light Records is the most tightly curated. Which is "best" depends entirely on what you collect, which is the point of this city.
Where can I buy house and techno vinyl in Amsterdam? Rush Hour, KILLACUTZ and InDeep'n'Dance for the working DJ; Red Light Records for older house and techno with everything else around it; Bordello A Parigi for Italo, electro and synth, Fridays and Saturdays only.
Which record shops in Amsterdam open on Sunday? Plenty: KILLACUTZ, Waxwell, ZAP, Damn Good, Platypus, Concerto, Record Mania, Record Palace, RecordFriend, Velvet Music, Amstel Antiques and Rush Hour from 1pm. Monday is the difficult day, not Sunday.
Is Amsterdam expensive for vinyl? Yes, by European standards, especially on collectable stock in the central shops. The compensation is quality of selection. Cheap digging exists at RecordFriend, Distortion, Damn Good's outside crate and the flea markets.
What should I hunt for in Amsterdam specifically? Dutch-pressed international titles, Surinamese-Dutch funk and kaseko, early Dutch house and techno, sixties Nederbeat, and the current catalogues of Rush Hour and Music From Memory.
A Record to Hunt for in Amsterdam
Ronald Snijders — A Safe Return (Black Straight Music, 1980).
A Surinamese-Dutch record made in the Netherlands: flute-led, moving between jazz, kaseko and funk, issued on a small label with no machinery behind it. Decades later one of its tracks, Kaseko Attack, was picked for Surinam Funk Force, the compilation assembled by Rush Hour's Antal Heitlager with Thomas Gesthuizen, and a record that had circulated quietly among people who knew it acquired a second, wider life.
It is the right record for this city because it contains the whole argument in one object: a musician from Paramaribo, a Dutch studio, a Dutch pressing, a Dutch audience, and then an Amsterdam shop-turned-label putting it back into circulation forty years on. That's not a rediscovery. That's a city doing the thing it has always done — moving records, and knowing what they're worth.
Original copies turn up, and they are neither cheap nor impossible. The full pressing guide, the review and the buying links are on the record's own page.
The book chapter on Amsterdam goes deeper: sixteen shops, the pressing-plant codes in the run-out groove that tell you a record was made in Haarlem, and three grails with the identification detail you use standing at the rack.
