A couple of weeks ago I bought a turntable. Not just any turntable, but a Technics 1210 Mk 2. It’s been a long time coming and it was a long haul getting it here, having hired a car in Sydney to drive it back to the Gold Coast. There was a bonus that came with that turntable – 400 albums and 100 singles that filled the boot of that car on the drive home. This is a dangerous thing, as my life has now been hijacked by a vinyl obsession. My wife has so far been tolerant, while the kids have quickly learned that they can’t run and jump around the lounge room when that beast starts a rumbling.
Rediscovering my record collection (and the extra 500 discs that are now part of it) has been a revelation. A new depth and warmth of sound fills the air and my ears, as if I’ve been instantly released from some sort of digitised fog that’s been smothering me for an eternity. It’s like transitioning from black and white to colour TV. Music was my first love and now I’ve fallen in love with her all over again. Just as we develop a deeper appreciation for our human partners over time those black platters matter more than ever, scratches and all. Vinyl is a beautiful thing.
Once I had the turntable set up and plugged into my trusty 30 year old NAD amp (no pre amp required thank you very much) the dilemma that faced me was what do I listen to first? In reality the choice had already been made for me because the guy I bought it from had Steely Dan’s Hey Nineteen cued up and ready to go when I arrived to collect it. Strangely, like me, he just happened to own a pair of Acoustic Research speakers and the sound they created was so rich and intoxicating he began to question his sanity in selling me his prized turntable and collection.
In retrospect the song was an interesting choice given its subject matter of an ageing hipster picking up a new love interest who doesn’t recognise “Retha Franklin” playing on his stereo. I hardly see this purchase as evidence of some sort of mid life crisis, but this ageing vinyl tragic knows his Steely Dan from his Retha Franklin thank you very much. I haven’t broken out the Cuervo Gold to enhance the pleasure of my new musical investment yet, but the next sonic adventure is just another revolution away…
Rather than bore you with a list of what I’ve been listening to over the past couple of weeks it seems like the time is ripe to start a series on classic albums – listening to and rediscovering recordings as they were intended. The first post on Made for Vinyl will be up within a day or two. Now all I need is that tequila.
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