Her dead father left her 10,000 records. Sharing them online helped her grieve – and get to know him | Vinyl

When Jula’s father died, he left her his vinyl collection – close to 10,000 records that included everything from opera to 60s psych to prog rock to new wave. At first, it felt overwhelming to look at shelves and shelves of records. But this summer, Jula, who is 24 and lives in Canada, decided to “sample” a few records. A friend suggested she post the process on Instagram. “She said, ‘There are people who are your father’s age who would recognize the records, and maybe you could find a small community of people who you can connect to, to keep that alive,’” Jula said.

She started randomly pulling records, recording her reactions, thoughts and commentary for albums beloved by boomers from artists like Harry Nilsson, the Moody Blues, Santana and the Beach Boys. Since first posting in September, Jula, who prefers not to give her last name, has amassed more than 322,000 followers on her account, @soundwavesoffwax.

Jula grew up in a house full of sound. Her father, Richard, was a lifelong music lover who played multiple instruments and wrote songs. “He told me that when he was five years old, he would do little chores for his grandfather, and use the allowance to buy records,” Jula said. She remembers him spinning the Archies, the Monkees and Frank Sinatra when she was a child. (Jula now makes her own music under the moniker Juli.Jeli, which she describes as “experimental electronic”.)

When Richard died a few years ago, those records became the only physical thing Jula had left of her father. “It’s like the last thing we have left of him, so even though they take up a lot of space, I knew I didn’t want to get rid of any.”

Going through the collection helped Jula discover a host of albums and artists. She loved Mozart in the Seventies, a pop-y arrangement of the composer’s most famous pieces reimagined by the Argentinian composer Waldo de los Ríos. “I had no idea what it was going to be like when I put it on the turntable, but that was crazy and I actually played it for my friends,” she said. “And Marianne Faithfull, I’d never heard of her before, but I love her voice.”

Jula doesn’t research an album before spinning it. She likes to go in as blindly as possible. That’s led to a few pronunciation blunders. “One was really embarrassing, that guy from the Talking Heads, I said David By-ron,” she said, of David Byrne.

Turning such a private act of getting to know her late father into a social media project helps Jula process her feelings. She calls her account “a listening party” and likes to read comments on her posts. “These people really keep my father alive for me, because he was always talking about music,” she said. “I’ll mention an album, and someone will give me a fact about it, or a little tidbit, and that makes me feel like my father’s in the room, because that’s what he would be doing.”

Some of Jula’s followers say that her account helps them navigate their own grief. “My dad passed away a few years ago and although he wasn’t a record collector, this account really helps me put things into perspective when I find things that he left behind,” one commenter wrote. “They take on a whole new meaning and tell me so much more about who he was than I ever knew.”

There’s also quite a bit of nerding out – especially when Jula revisits dad-rock favorites. “Bought this album when it came out,” one person commented under her review of Lou Reed’s New Sensations. “Love it, a more reflective, older Lou Reed making observations of what is going on around him. Still playing it.”

When Jula spun the Cars’ 1976 eponymous album, another follower showed their age by reminiscing: “Had the first on vinyl and 8 Track! The first two albums are a soundtrack to my high school freshman and sophomore years.”

As a gen-Z twentysomething, Jula’s musical consumption had previously played out almost entirely online. Now, she’s learning how to take care of records, alphabetize her collection, and listen to an album all the way through instead of going straight to the single. She’s come to appreciate the analog.

“There’s something really beautiful about having physical copies of music,” Jula said. “We can laugh, but when I die, if I have kids, what are they going to be left with – a streaming library?”

Even simply picking up a record that her father once held feels meaningful, and brings Jula closer to her dad. “That’s something he held before, and my ears are going to the same sonic spaces as he did,” she said. “The scratches I can see on the records were scratches that he made. It’s interesting, because this becomes not only about the loss of my father, but the loss of physical music.”

Jula’s favorite albums:

• Mass in F Minor by the Electric Prunes, 1968: “I am a sucker for concept albums and loved this rock church vibe that was happening.”

• Tadpoles by Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, 1969: “This is a very silly album with a fun use of sound effects and humor. It made my mom and I laugh at my father’s collection.”

• Mustard by Roy Wood, 1975: “I love how experimental this album is. You never really know what you’re going to listen to next.”

• The Cars by the Cars, 1978: “A really nice exploration of pop music and what makes music catchy. There’s lots of play in the arrangement and I love the synthesizers.”