I’d like to begin this blog with a brief story about how I started down the interminably enjoyable (and expensive!) path of analogue musical appreciation.
First, some historical context. I’m 29 years old. Like most children of the 1980s, I came of age on the cusp of the digital music revolution. Although I had an old Fisher Price record player and a few tapes when I was a little boy, musical accumulation and appreciation for me came primarily in the format of the compact disc. (If this makes you feel sorry for me, consider further that my first CD was Waking Up the Neighbours by Bryan Adams.)
Regrettably, I also did my part as a toddler to hasten my dad’s exit from the world of analogue playback, propelling him into the digital age by destroying many of his records and turntable in a way that only a clueless three year old can (I’ll leave that story for him to tell).
This is all to say that, much like many of my peers, I don’t have any memories of listening to records or learning about turntables and two channel analogue stereo systems as a youngster.
Fast forward to my late 20s. When my girlfriend and I moved in together, she brought along an item that would change my life. Modest though it may be, her second-hand Technics SLBD20D turntable sparked my interest in collecting vinyl. Although we only had an old Fisher receiver she picked up at a yard sale and some small Sony bookshelf speakers, it was enough to get me addicted to the experience of listening to records.
All of the cliches about records are true. The size and scale of the artwork gives records an unparalleled tangibility. The act of putting on a record, changing sides and putting it back in a protective sleeve when you’re done with it requires care and attention to detail that is beyond the scope of digital playback. Most importantly, the music you hear feels warm and intimate.
After I had acquired a around fifty new records to supplement her used collection, I started to think about, then subsequently read about, the possibilities of improving the experience of listening to records. Thus, I entered into the community of audiophiles.
While initially complicated and often confusing, this research quickly yielded many rewards. I learned that with a better turntable, a more detailed cartridge, an improved phono stage, a dedicated two channel amplifier and larger, more sonically capable speakers I could experience playback that could, potentially, blow any CD, mp3 or other digital source I was familiar with out of the water, at least in terms of musical detail.
After some careful if not occasionally dubious budgeting, I put together my own analogue two channel stereo system. It includes: a new Rega P3-24 turntable fitted with the RB301 tonearm and Rega Elys2 cartridge; a Cambridge Audio phono stage; a NAD C325 5o watts per channel integrated amplifier; and a pair of used Paradigm Monitor 7 series floorstanding speakers. Admittedly, not a premium hi-fi setup but still close to $3,000 when all was said and done.
The first record I played was a new 180 gram pressing of Oasis’s classic (What’s the Story) Morning Glory? The silence my ears were met with immediately and dramatically altered my perception of analogue playback. The record played whisper quiet, nary a tic or pop, let alone surface noise, to be heard. My suspicion, previously, was that surface noise and the occasional tic and pop were part-and-parcel of listening to records.
I was also taken aback by the detail I heard for the first time listening to an album I had heard fifty times before. Subtle instrumentation and vocals that I had never encountered on my iPod or even my most accomplished CD player. Highs that were blissfully high, lows that were solidly low, and a mid-range with exquisite detail.
By the time “Champagne Supernova” finished I was hooked.
Epilogue
Later on, of course, I began to notice some of the limitations of my current system. But the spark that sets the audiophile’s heart alight is the sound you hear every time you make an improvement, however small, to your system. The sense you feel that you’re moving closer to aural bliss. Incidentally, the knowledge (or hope) that improvements can always be made is the source of the ceaseless desire many audiophiles have when it comes to upgrading the various parts of their system.
Welcome back to blog-land young RJ.
I was rather surprised to read of your first record choice. Of course, we all know who does the better version of the biggest hit off that (admittedly great) album… but I digress.
Although you and I are roughly of the same vintage, I actually went through a brief vinyl phase in like grade 10 or thereabouts, listening to a bunch of old albums that my folks had long abandoned in favor of TV. Beatles and Dylan are the ones that stand out in my memory now… along with some Santana and Jethro Tull. But it was the Dylan that always stood out in my mind. You see, these records were by and large beat to shit. You would probably recoil in horror to see them. But something in the snapping and popping added a certain fragility or perhaps a tone of desolation to the Dylan albums that, in my opinion, helped them sound better than they would/do clean. But now I’m rambling.
Speaking of your first CD, I think I had a vinyl pressing of Reckless at some point. I’ll have a look the next time I’m in the Ridge if you want to take a trip down that memory lane again. To be honest, I have no shame in saying that is a pretty solid album. Come on, kids wanna rock? 😉
Thanks for the comment, sir.
I actually agree with you on Dylan. He certainly would sound better on crackly, old, beat up vinyl. Mainly because you’d be tricked into thinking the terrible vocals were the result of vinyl abuse.
For what it’s worth, regarding Bruce Allen’s meal ticket, I was always more of a “Run to You” kind of kid.
The guitar riff from Its Only Love is admittedly rather badass too. And you have to agree nobody else “yeah’s” like our kid BA. Puts Jet to shame, presuming they weren’t shameful already.
Shameful doesn’t even begin to describe it, sir.