Jeffrey Adkins
Executive Director & Co-FounderJeff has spent his career in software and operations—from deploying code to managing teams at scale—and came to this through music and the realization that Colorado Springs was missing a specific kind of room. Below, his note on why he's building it.
Finding the Signal: A Note from the Founder
By Jeff Adkins
I didn't grow up with a silver spoon of vinyl. I have a cool older brother who taught me plenty, but he wasn't handing me first pressings of Led Zeppelin IV.
I was born in 1981 in a town with the zip code 60957. We didn't have a music store. If you wanted to hear something new, you waited weeks for a BMG catalog order, hunted through pawn shops in Rantoul, or drove thirty miles to the mall in Champaign. Music wasn't ambient noise back then. It was a destination. You had to work for it. And when you finally got it in your hands, you sat down and you listened.
The Distance Between the Notes
I grew up playing jazz and contemporary music, and it was through creating sound that I learned to appreciate hearing it. I learned early that the silence between the notes matters as much as the notes themselves.
My career in tech and global travel reinforced that. Whether I was deploying code, managing ops at Zendesk, or sitting on a plane halfway around the world, music became my refuge—the one variable I could control in a high-speed world. The thing that kept the signal clear when the noise got too loud.
Why This Room, in This City
I realized that Colorado Springs—for all its beauty—was missing a specific kind of evening. We have churches. (Oh, boy, do we have churches.) We have bars. We have venues. But we were missing the place that feels less like a commercial exchange and more like a room you actually want to be in. A place you show up to because the people, the food, and the evening itself are worth it.
I wanted a night where the chefs were people I knew. Where the drinks were poured by someone who cared. Where the music set a mood instead of filling dead air. And where the people in the room were there because they chose to be—not because they stumbled in.
That's Peak Vinyl Club. The room I wish existed when I moved here. A place where we stop scrolling, stop rushing, and treat the evening like the event it used to be.
I never imagined I'd be here doing this. But I also realize we won't get this chance again. There's a part of me that wants to build something that outlives us—a permanent home in Colorado Springs where people can actually be human together, gaining new perspectives in a city that desperately deserves them.
The Vibe
Think speakeasies. Quiet rooms. Intimate settings where every detail is elevated. That feeling when the right song comes on and the room just… settles. The food is exactly right. The drink is cold. And you look around and realize: these are my people.
That's us. And we're just getting started.