As the backlash against the ‘vinyl revival’ gains momentum, fueled by crippling production delays, Record Shop Day hucksterism and increasingly eye-watering shop prices, another argument worth throwing on the pile is the sheer expensive and physical impracticality necessary in assembling the equipment and dedicated space required for the proper appreciation of music on vinyl.

As much as we lifer music-heads might see such a set-up as our god-given right, the truth is that, despite its hip cache, a vinyl habit is just as much a display of conspicuous consumption as a rich dad’s vintage motorcycle or golf club paraphernalia. Even the quickest survey of the outlay needed these days for a half-decent deck, amp and speakers, and a quick calculation of the weight and shelving requirements of anything more than a modest collection of LPs reveals the unhappy truth that, with a myriad of other options now available for the effective home reproduction of recorded music, only a complete obsessive would venture to undertake such an investment whilst stuck in the financially stretched renting / flat-sharing milieu that comprises life for most of us in modern cities.

Needless to say, I’ve been battling to keep my own ‘vinyl option’ open in such circumstances since before I left home as a teenager, and, when the dodgy light-weight USB turntable I’ve been pre-amping through computer speakers or a guitar amp for bedroom listening crapped out last month, I realised that a) I am now comfortably settled and unlikely to be moving any time in the near future, and b) there is absolutely no point in continuing to own and buy vinyl if I’m going to persist in primarily listening to it in this “sounds shit, but it’ll do for now” kind of fashion.

Like everyone else, I’m near-broke of course, so waltzing into Richer Sounds for a few demos wasn’t really an option. The alternative then? Well, personally I went straight for that vexed crap-shoot of selecting “nearest first” on an ebay search and hoping for the collection-only best. (Note that the fact I live in London probably helped in this regard.)

Three weeks later, and after a certain amount of unforeseen expense and a not inconsiderable amount of hassle, my new set up is finally operational. For those contemplating the ebay option, my advice is to be patient and be careful; to not rush into anything, and to not be shy about thoroughly checking condition or requesting a demonstration of functionality before handing over cash. All advice that I, like a moron, entirely failed to abide by.

Finished hi-fi accounting thus looks like this:

Gemini turntable ---------------------------£0
Replacement stylus for Gemini --------- £14

Moved upstairs from the living room when the aforementioned USB deck started playing up, I got this turntable as a giveaway from friends a few years back. Frankly, it’s the kind of thing that would make an audiophile wake up in the night with a cold sweat, cheaply manufactured and equipped with an arm that “..bounces around like a donkey ride over the Himalayas”, to paraphrase one post I googled up on a hi-fi forum. But what can I say – after years of somewhat careless use, it still plays stuff at the correct speed with no noticeable skipping, and, with the addition of a long overdue fresh stylus, sound quality sounds just dandy to my cloddish ears. So IT’LL DO.

Refurbed ‘70s Turner turntable ------------£70
Replacement stylus for Turner ------------- £12

Supplied w/ a one year warranty from a North London 2nd hand shop, this is a replacement for the living room deck (connected via pre-amp to my student era mini-system). I went for it because it’s quite small and light, but still seems well built (mmm.. ‘70s) - and that warranty helps too. No problems thus far, beyond the fact the stylus they dug out of a drawer for me is completely knackered. Still awaiting the replacement as I write (it’s a bit late… maybe I should chase it up?), so let’s see how it sounds then. Thankfully I at least clocked that they’d replaced the cartridge, so the stylus code prominently displayed on the unit itself is inaccurate – one pitfall avoided.

Marantz amplifier ------------------------------ £35

The first piece of equipment I acquired this month, this was a local pick-up (I carried it home in a couple of laundry bags to avoid the rain), and it's working like a dream thus far. Nice trouble-free transaction, and nice to finally have an amp on which I can adjust the bass and treble knobs as god intended, rather than just keeping them on ‘max’ all time as the only way to get an acceptable sound. I now think on this purchase like a happy, rose-tinted memory of the way ebay-type things should be.

Sharp FM/MW/LW Tuner --------------------- £0

I already had this knocking about, but thought I’d mention it since it’s visible in the photo above. Although rarely used (and then just for static), I have some funny notions about the importance of analogue radio. Ask me about it sometime!

Acoustic Research speakers (‘70s/’80s?) --- £20
Technics double tape deck -------------------- £6.50
Speaker wire ------------------------------------- £5 inc postage
Foam repair kit for AR speakers ------------ £25 inc postage

Now here things begin to get a bit iffy. Temporarily blinded by the sight of a set of big ol’ PROPER AUDIOPHILE BRAND speakers going for a song if collected from a South London district I’ll refrain from mentioning here, I bit, and the same seller had a double tape-deck ending at the same time too, so what the hell, thought I’d jump in on that too. (Love it or hate it, the trend for bands putting out their stuff on tape isn’t going to be diminishing any time soon (see opening para of this post), so might as well get one of those too, whilst I’m in hi-fi buying mode.)

Arriving to collect these and grokking the size of the speakers cabinets, my good sense was temporarily short-circuited by embarrassment at the possibility that there was no way I could get them home without help. The seller expressed astonishment that I hadn’t come by car, which didn’t help, but thank god – both speakers just about made it into my wife’s heavyweight traveling suitcase with a fraction of an inch to spare, and I figured I could probably manage to carry the tape-deck under my arm.

Now, readers – what did I forget to do whilst engaged with all this? Yes, that’s right – I forgot to take the speaker grilles off and actually have a look at the bloody things. What a fucking idiot. It’s like finding a rare record for an unfeasibly cheap price and throwing down your cash before checking it for scratches. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It wasn’t until arriving home, sweaty and exhausted from dragging all this stuff home via three tube interchanges, that I hooked the speakers up, and, after a minute or two of quite lovely sound, began to notice an undertow of nasty, scratchy bass distortion that seemed to increase with each disc I tried out. Pulling the grilles off, the truth is revealed – the foam surrounds around the cones had completely disintegrated, leaving sticky black goo all over everything, and one of the cones hanging down, scraping the frame slightly.

I didn’t think it was worth complaining to the seller, even though he quite possibly stitched me up rather nastily here. After all, I bought these ‘as seen’ for a paltry price, and he made no great claims about their condition other than that they ‘worked’ (which indeed they did, after a fashion). Not worth the hassle of trying to argue it from a slightly shaky position, I reasoned, and frankly I’d probably pay £20 just to not have to lug the bloody things back across the pubic transport network again.

Hi-fi repair specialists I contacted by email quoted me £250-350 for a refit and advised in friendly terms that I’d be damned to hell should I dabble in the black arts of attempting a DIY repair. Ah. However, assorted voices I googled up on hi-fi forum threads were more positive about the possibility of replacing foam surrounds at home. Indeed, they linked to various companies who sell kits for carrying out such work, and step-by-step guides that, whilst exacting and ritualistic in tone, didn’t make the job look like something that would be completely beyond my abilities. So, long story short, after spending a few miserable hours contemplating the possibility of turning the damn things into a miniature coffee table or carving them up to sell the wood, I thought I’d give home repair a go.

Whilst it sticks in my craw somewhat to pay £20 plus recorded post for what turned out to be a small pizza box containing two thin foam discs and a tube of PVA glue, my advice to anyone in a similar situation is - go for it. Though a bit messy and time-consuming, it turned out to be a doddle to be honest.

Admittedly, I’m perhaps lucky that the design of these particular speakers allowed me to bypass the much ballyhooed process of ‘centering’ the cones (they seemed to centre themselves quite nicely thank you very much, insofar as I can judge from observing the tests suggested by the online guides), and, whilst I’m sure hi-fi fanatics would be aghast at my laissez-faire methods, use of cheap, knock-off foam and failure to fully test and balance and calibration of the repaired speakers’ output (or whatever), I’m going to cautiously say that, thus far, the operation has been a complete success.

I’m prepared to eat my words if the bloody things melt and/or burst in three weeks, but for now, VICTORY IS MINE. Twenty-four hours after applying the last bit of glue, I’m trying out ‘Marquee Moon’ and it sounds better than ever. One in the eye for the git who sold me these to me without pointing out the damage, I’d like to think, but whatever - finally having the equipment needed to accurately represent recordings made on much-abused four-tracks in London bed-sits, tin sheds in Memphis, suburban basements in Ohio and other such quality recording environments is certainly a weight off my mind, let me tell you.

The irony of the fact I spent my Saturday morning on my hands and knees gouging away at fiddly electrical components that are probably older than I am whilst listening to beautifully reproduced music from my laptop, wherein over 4000 digitally stored albums are available at the touch of a button, was not lost on me, and indeed, it is something I would urge any young whippersnappers reading this post to think on long and hard before taking the plunge into full-scale vinyl collecting / listening.

Surprisingly, the only real lemon I’ve ended up with in the course of this hasty ebay spree is that bloody tape deck. Again, the issue here is something that a mere cursory inspection prior to purchase could have alerted me to in time. Basically, it turns out this is one of a few hi-fi separates that Technics inexplicably failed to provide with a conventional power supply, instead leaving them with just a funny-looking four pin plug-in designed to connect with a particular model Technics amp. In other words, it’s a fine unit in great condition, but it’s impossible to plug the fucking thing in – no alternative AC jack, no slot for a kettle lead, nothing.

Googling exposes the travails of several people who have fallen into the same trap (I mean, you buy an electrical appliance, you just ASSUME it’s going to have a plug of some kind, right?), and unfortunately, it seems the methods that might be employed to rewire it for a regular power supply are the subject of much debate, involving the careful perusal of wiring diagrams in downloaded manuals, electrical engineer level soldering skills and limited potential for success. Ho hum.

I don’t want to pull the same nasty trick that was apparently pulled on me on some other buyer or charity shop, and, assuming I’m honest about the power supply issue, I can’t see the thing ever shifting even as a Freecycle item, to be honest. Having foolishly hoofed it across town along with half a ton of speaker-filled suitcase, I now can't figure out any way it’s going to be able to leave the flat again, other than as junk. Such a waste.

On the plus side though, the deck did come loaded with two interesting looking tapes of Indian ragas, which I suppose I might theoretically have paid £6.50 for in other circumstances, so there’s that. Now I just need something to play them on…. and so it begins again.

To conclude, I’m not entirely sure what my rationale is for banging out this fairly tedious, self-absorbed mithering as a blog post has been, other than perhaps to provide a helpful case study for anyone looking to set themselves up for half-decent analogue music-listening without spending a mint, to provide a few ‘consumer mag’ type tips, and perhaps also to inspire some reflection re: the deeply impractical financial & physical investment lying behind every single one of those hepcats who can be seen haunting record shops in ever-increasing numbers every Saturday afternoon, surveying their latest acquisitions.

How much of ‘vinyl culture’, we might ask, is actually just pure front – chauvinistic male hobbyism at its worst – and how much are unscrupulous record and equipment vendors currently benefiting from this, as poorer and less experienced young people increasingly feel the need to get involved?

I’m playing devil’s advocate here to a certain extent, but, much as I love vinyl (and record shopping) on a personal level (in keeping with my preference for things old, weird and dusty in most aspects of life), the way that music culture continues to perpetrate the idea that vinyl is the only ‘proper’ way to do business is something that I think is well worth questioning, especially in an era when so many more affordable, more practical, less resource intensive ways of obsessing over recorded sound now exist.

And finally: having got all that stuff out of the way, I’m hopeful that I’ll actually be able to crack on and finish some actual reviews of some actual bloody records to post here before I head off for a sojourn overseas in September. There’s been some GREAT stuff out in recent months, stuff that have no excuse for having failed to enthuse about here, thus far so… watch this space, etc.

Labels: diatribes, equipment, hi-fi stuff, ranting

In lieu of any new content here, it occurred to me that readers might be interested in the somewhat music-related content of a piece I just put up on my other blog, telling you more than you probably ever wished to know about Hawkwind’s adventures in the field of paperback fiction.

Labels: Hawkwind, self promotion, spacefiller