Vinyl Prices Skyrocket — Have We Lost Our Minds, or Is This Just the New Normal for the Vinyl-Obsessed?

So there I was earlier this week, wandering into one of Toronto’s so-called “best” record stores, expecting the usual treasure hunt vibes. Instead, I got smacked in the face by sticker shock — even with the U.S. dollar holding strong against the Canadian Loonie, those vinyl prices were brutal. And don’t forget the extra 13% GST tax sneaking up on you. Sure, Ossington Avenue has morphed into Hipster Central with its endless bars, pho joints, and quirky boutiques, but holy hell, the records — new and used — are priced like they’re rare artifacts. Has vinyl lost the plot, or is this just how deep your pockets need to be to join the party nowadays?

Let’s clear something up right away: Rotate This is a damn good record store. One of the best in the city, hands down. But it also sits on a street that’s seemingly been under construction since the beginning of the Trudeau years — which, to be fair, could describe just about every major artery in Toronto in 2025. The city’s infrastructure is an ongoing disaster, and I say that as someone who was born and raised here. High rents, nonexistent parking, and a squadron of overzealous parking enforcement officers make even a casual trip for records feel like a military op.

Despite that, Rotate This was buzzing during my 45-minute browse — a diverse crowd that spanned gender, race, and age. The vibe is classic Toronto: sorta cool and definitely pretentious. The space is well-organized, a little dim (it’s an old building), with music constantly playing and a few Gallo Acoustics speakers bolted to the wall that gave me a chuckle. This is a vinyl-first kind of place — so don’t roll in with a milk crate full of SACDs thinking you’re about to strike gold.

It also leaned heavily toward new stock rather than used, which means if you’re not bringing a credit card with a decent limit, you’re probably walking out empty-handed. Buying vinyl in Toronto now feels less like crate digging and more like investing in startup tech — only your ROI is emotional, not financial.

Case in point — every Blue Note Tone Poet release was on the wall, beautifully displayed, but at $60 CAD plus the 13% GST, it’s hard not to wince. That’s not cheap. That’s edging into “do I really need another reissue of Speak No Evil?” territory.

No wonder Eric Pye’s been scaling back or importing from overseas. Even hardcore jazz fans are starting to sweat the price of chasing audiophile pressings. When your love of classic Blue Note starts to feel like you’re financing a home renovation, something’s off.

Over in the “fresh wax” section, Craft Recordings had their latest OJC and Bluesville releases proudly on display — and for once, I felt a tiny bit smug (look, it had to happen eventually). Craft just sent me six new titles to review (coming next week), and yes, they cost me exactly zero dollars. You can read most of my reviews from their 2025 vinyl blitz here.

At $35–$40 CAD plus GST, these were surprisingly reasonable — especially when you’re still recovering from the Tone Poet sticker shock. If you’re in the 416 and looking for a solid score before rent eats your soul, snag them now before my brother beats you to it and stashes the last copies I don’t already own. Rotate This might be ground zero for Toronto vinyl inflation, but this batch actually felt like a win.

Used records at Rotate This were a real mixed bag. The floor was mostly clear of junk, which is a credit to the store, but prices were still all over the place. The cheapest I spotted was $10 CAD, and plenty hovered around the $30 mark — not exactly thrift-bin gold. On the bright side, condition was consistently VG to VG+ from what I pulled at random, which beats flipping through warped disco comps and moldy Englebert Humperdinck sleeves like you’re at a suburban garage sale in 1993.

If you’re a fan of lavish box sets, the front wall as you enter will either blow your mind or your budget — or both. There were some gorgeous deluxe sets on display, but let’s just say the thrill wore off faster than the Maple Leafs’ playoff hopes. Every single box set I checked was priced over $100–$175 CAD… and that’s before Ontario’s friendly 13% GST reminder that dreams cost more here.

Guilt was the only reason I walked out with anything — namely one of the few R.L. Burnside records missing from my collection, the recent repress of Dolly Parton’s Jolene, and Today! by Skip James. Grand total? $116.23 CAD, which comes out to about $85 USD and a swift kick to the wallet. Naturally, that kind of reckless financial abandon triggered some typical Canadian shame, so I instinctively apologized to a stranger on Ossington and quietly mourned the fact that I now had less money for a Bitondo’s panzerotti or a proper veal sandwich coma with the hometown crew at the original California Sandwiches.

And let me be clear — until you’ve watched five 50-something Jews and a Greek inhale an irresponsible amount of veal and cold Brio Chinottos for under $120 CAD, you haven’t truly understood guilt. Or sodium overload. Or the need for a Costco-sized pack of Ex-Lax and a Brita filter the size of the Don Valley.

Tuesday morning, I found myself on Spadina just before 9 a.m., chasing a proper Toronto breakfast in Chinatown before heading into Sonic Boom. Freshly baked and steamed buns — one with curry beef and peas, the other stuffed with custard — served as a warm-up act. I’ve ditched coffee lately in an effort to drop some of the weight packed on courtesy of my bipolar meds, so I washed everything down with an ice-cold Brio Limonatta while staking out the store like a vinyl-hungry raccoon waiting for garbage night.

Same vibe as the day before. Zero guilt. Zero purchases. Mostly because the prices felt like déjà vu, and I didn’t feel like dropping another $100 on represses I can probably snag online for less — or get sent for review.

Am I kvetching needlessly? Maybe. But I don’t think I’m entirely wrong here. Just a few weeks ago I was in Croatia and stumbled across a tiny gem of a record store in Split called Dancing Bear. Perfect use of a small downtown space tucked among the tourist crush — though thankfully not the same “elbow your way through Khaleesi merch” nightmare that Dubrovnik has become post-Game of Thrones. Seriously, that show did more damage to Dubrovnik than the Yugoslav wars.

I walked out with a couple of CDs — yeah, CDs — mostly because the new vinyl prices were hovering between 30 and 50 euros. I stared at two Kraftwerk 180-gram reissues that looked stunning… until I realized they were nearly $70 USD each. That’s not vinyl. That’s high-end German conceptual robbery. I love Autobahn as much as the next synth geek, but for 70 bucks it better come with a small Moog and a BMW lease.

How are the rest of you faring out there? Are you also getting sticker shock every time you browse the new releases bin? Or am I just a cranky Gen Xer clinging to memories of $12 LPs at Sam the Record Man? Let me know in the comments — especially if you’ve found a way to game the system (or a store that hasn’t gone full Sotheby’s with their vinyl pricing).

But yeah… I think the whole thing kinda sucks. Vinyl’s supposed to be about love, not layaway plans.

Source: https://www.ecoustics.com/