Sound, Spaces, and the Hi-Fi Moment
High-fidelity sound has been with us for a long time. Since the 1950s and 60s, people have been chasing better ways to listen. Better reproduction. More detail. More closeness to the music as it was meant to be heard. For decades, hi-fi mostly lived at home. Private listening. Personal rituals. Records played in living rooms, late at night, quietly.
Then, slowly, sound stepped outside.
In recent years, hi-fi found its way into public spaces again. Cafés, restaurants, shops, hotels. Not by accident. Social media played its part. A turntable became more than a tool. It became a symbol. A visual language for taste, intention, and slowness. Vinyl records turned into interior objects. Proof that a place cared about atmosphere, not just product.
Sound systems became visible. Photographed. Shared. Referenced.
When we opened Orsa, we were living inside that moment. We saw it everywhere. In places we admired. In cafés that felt considered. In spaces where music was clearly part of the identity. We won’t pretend it didn’t influence us. It did. Sound mattered to us from the beginning. It felt essential to creating a space people wanted to spend time in.
At first, like many others, we thought in terms of equipment. Systems. Aesthetics. What looked right. What felt “serious.” The hi-fi boom made it easy to believe that the answer was better gear.
Time taught us something else.
We learned that great equipment does not guarantee great sound. And great sound is not about a specific look. You can have the most beautiful setup in the room and still miss the point. Sound that’s too loud. Too sharp. Too present. Music that floats above the space instead of settling into it.
What matters is not what you play music through, but how the room listens back.
In hospitality and retail, music is never neutral. Even when people don’t consciously notice it, it’s shaping everything. Music sets the pace of a space. It influences how people move, how long they stay, how they speak to each other. It changes the way time feels.
Good music doesn’t fill silence. It gives it shape.
In cafés and restaurants, this becomes especially clear. These are spaces built around shared time. People come to pause, to meet, to work, to talk, to be alone together. Music quietly holds all of that. Too much and it pushes people away. Too little and the room feels exposed. When it’s right, it disappears while doing all the work.
Sound defines volume in a room, not just in decibels, but socially. A space with the right music often becomes calmer, even when it’s full. People lower their voices. Conversations feel closer. The room breathes.
At Orsa, we stopped asking what system we should have and started asking a different question: how does this space sound right now?
Morning is not evening. A busy weekend is not a quiet weekday. The same record can feel warm at one moment and intrusive at another. Sound is not static. It moves with the room, with the light, with the people inside.
This is where the hi-fi resurgence becomes meaningful beyond aesthetics. It reopened a conversation about listening. About attention. About treating sound as something designed, not accidental.
In many retail and hospitality spaces, music is still an afterthought. A playlist turned on at opening. A speaker pushed into a corner. Volume adjusted when it feels wrong. But sound deserves the same care as lighting, furniture, or layout. You wouldn’t choose harsh lighting and call it atmosphere. Music works the same way.
Good sound doesn’t ask for attention. It creates connection.
It connects people to the space and to each other. It creates a shared emotional layer that everyone experiences together, even if silently. In restaurants, it can make waiting feel shorter. In cafés, it can turn a quick coffee into a longer stay. In shops, it can slow you down just enough to notice more.
Over time, we understood that music is not decoration. It’s structure. It’s rhythm. It’s emotional architecture.
The hi-fi boom reminded us that sound matters. Running a space taught us how it matters.
Today, we care less about having the “best” system and more about having the right sound. One that respects the room. One that changes with the day. One that supports the experience instead of competing with it.
When sound is done well, you don’t notice the speakers. You don’t think about the setup. You notice something simpler. You feel comfortable. Conversations flow. Time stretches a little. You stay longer than planned.
That’s the sound we’re interested in.