Record store owner Paul Au has escaped the Vietnam War, slept in the streets, and weathered two pandemics to pursue his passion for vinyl
It’s easy to get distracted, or even lost, in the famous maze-like street markets in Sham Shui Po. Hundreds of sellers in green sheet-metal stalls offer everything from DVD players to tools, toys, clothes, and other kitsch both used and new. The spirit of entrepreneurial resolve is in the air, as is the smell of cheap afternoon snacks in Hong Kong: instant noodles with fried spam, buttery toast, and sweet milk tea served in little shops behind the market stalls to hungry locals from all walks of life.
Right here in the heart of Kowloon, a refugee from the Vietnam War has spent the last four decades beating all odds in pursuit of freedom and his one lifelong passion—vinyl records.
To find Au Tak Shing, better known as Paul Au, and his record store Vinyl Hero, one has to know the way. An elevator climbs to the fifth floor of a residential building on Cheung Sha Wan Road. Paul’s apartment can be easily identified by the many stickers and doodles left on the door by previous patrons and friends. Behind it, a windowless room of around 25 square meters lit by incandescent bulbs is where Paul, a gaunt-looking man in his 60s, has been living and working for the last 20 years. It can rightfully be described as a fortress, with towers not made of stone but of memories, love, and stacks upon stacks of old vinyl records: Japanese city pop, Cantonese chansons, classic rock, obscure 2000s drum and bass—Paul has it all, stacked ceiling-high with barely any room to move in between.
For the Record: How a War Refugee Built His Vinyl Haven in Hong Kong is a story from our issue, “Kinder Cities.” To read the entire issue, become a subscriber and receive the full magazine.