In our 50s and 60s, many of us find ourselves in a unique phase of life. The demands of raising children often recede, careers shift or wind down, and the desire for meaningful connection becomes more pronounced. 

For men in particular, forging and maintaining deep friendships in adulthood can feel challenging. Unlike the spontaneous camaraderie of high school and college, friendships in midlife often require intention and creativity to cultivate. One intriguing idea to foster these connections is the concept of vinyl listening clubs, which could serve as a reimagining of book clubs. A few months ago I sparked this idea with some of my dad friends from the neighborhood that has created an amazing space like a dorm room on a Thursday night.

Jeff Hamaoui of the Modern Elder Academy (MEA) suggested the idea of incorporating vinyl listening clubs as a part of fostering friendships in midlife, and it’s easy to see why this resonates. Vinyl records have a tactile, ritualistic quality that invites presence and intentionality. Gathering to listen to an album in its entirety — with no skips, no interruptions — offers a rare opportunity to drop into a shared experience in a world often dominated by fragmented digital interactions. Much like book clubs spark conversations about literature and life, vinyl listening clubs become spaces where music serves as a gateway to meaningful get togethers and telling stories about life. Whether it’s revisiting albums from our youth or discovering new artists together, these gatherings can provide both nostalgia and novelty.

Beyond the joy of music, our club has fostered our friendships as dads. For men in our 50s or 60s, rekindling the dynamics of high school and college friendships can feel daunting but is profoundly rewarding. Back then, camaraderie often emerged from shared adventures, light-hearted teasing, and late-night conversations about dreams and fears. Recreating those dynamics in adulthood means carving out time for regular, judgment-free spaces where being real and humor coexist. Vinyl listening clubs, with their relaxed yet intentional approach, can provide just that.

For those of us reconnecting with friends post-parenting, there’s a renewed opportunity to rebuild relationships on a foundation of shared history and new interests. Life after raising children often feels like entering a new chapter, and old friendships can find fresh energy in this phase. Vinyl listening clubs offer a purposeful yet low-pressure way to reconnect, blending nostalgia with the chance to create new memories.

Ultimately, reviving the dynamics of our high school and college friendships in midlife is fun and definitely not out of reach in creating friendship and camaraderie that seems to disappear with age. With my club we’ve gone from having listening parties at peoples’ houses to planning on record store trips and going to concerts together. It’s a great feeling to relive the fun of friendships, concerts, record shopping and enjoying a few beverages together. We’re laughing more than any of us have in a while. On behalf of our club we’d recommend just go start a vinyl listening club, it’s definitely worth doing. 

How to start a vinyl listening club: 

• Find 5-7 friends who are interested
• Gather at someone’s house where they have a turntable and vinyl records (don’t worry everyone else will buy the equipment and albums after the first gathering…based on first hand experience)
• Set a first gathering of about 2 hours, drinks, snacks and not a lot of structure beyond that
• Start with something like Rush – Moving Pictures, drop the needle and let the rest take care of itself! 

-Michael

Michael Kanazawa is an MEA alum and recently retired from full-time corporate work after selling his company to a global consulting firm. He currently is on faculty at the University of Southern California, teaching innovation/entrepreneurship and building a venture studio at the Iovine & Young Academy. He’s a lifelong musician from garage bands, college bands and now exploring writing and recording music (part of the post-MEA inspiration) as “Papa Zawa.”