I ain't no vinyl expert.
That's not a clever double-negative trick, either. I was one of those who jumped onto the CD bandwagon, dazzled by high-tech coolness and sheer snob appeal back in the early days. "Yeah, it's a cool album, but I'm waiting for it on CD." Countless records were traded in for pennies on the dollar for shiny CDs. I have owned a single turntable for the last nineteen years, a plastic direct-drive JVC that came as part of a rack system from a department store, and it was hardly used for last decade.
I started playing around with vinyl a bit in the last year or so, prodded on by the rantings at the Hoffman board and elsewhere. I shrugged. Sure, records were cool, but I just didn't get the hyperbole.
Then I did the Dylan shootouts on this site a little while ago. Under such intent listening conditions, I could hear some potential locked away in there, that glorious "euphonic distortion" as Thom calls it. My crappy turntable was the weak link.
So when the time came around for my annual toy purchase, I decided I didn't really need a Pocket PC after all, and plunked down some bucks for this black beauty.
It was, at first, a disaster.
Got it home, set it up. Big double-plinth, with the motor isolated from the arm. Nifty. Built-in level. Neato. First I strapped the belt onto the motor. Then, I slipped the heavy glass platter over the threaded spindle (to accomodate the included record clamp). Set the tracking weight. Dangled the little dangly anti-skate thing. Slapped on a record and prepared to experience audio nirvana.
The standard pre-mounted Goldring 1012GX cartridge hit the record and bounced around like a drunken cheerleader. I lunged to retrieve it and checked out the situation. The stylus, on close examination, was apparently pushed up into the cartridge body. Harumph.
I went back to the store, goofed up stylus in hand. They didn't have another MMF-5 in stock, but gave me the stylus off the floor demo, which had obviously never been used. (The tonearm was still strapped to the rest, and the counterweight had been thrown on backwards. There was a thick layer of dust on it. Sigh.)
I motored back home, ran to the turntable, and went to install the new stylus. It wouldn't go on. Just when I started to think I was hopelessly inept, I realized that there was a little plastic peg on the stylus that slotted into a matching hole in the cart. Unfortunately, the smashed stylus had left its peg in the hole, like a key broken off in a lock. Crap!
I was done messing with this jinxed example. I called the dealer, they ordered a new table, and I waited.
The new one came in last night. Did the exchange and unpacked it -- this one was fine. Did the whole setup ritual again (went much faster this time). Put on a record and waited for sonic nirvana.
Well, maybe not nirvana, but damn nice all the same. Through my all-analog Yamaha stereo receiver and NHT SB3 speakers, things right out of the box (they say these analog gadgets need to "break in" -- hmmm) sounded both lively and life-like, even on the records I used to make sure everything was set up correctly. An 80s stock reissue of Led Zeppelin II boomed, thumped and wailed convincingly. Very little noise, apart from what was on the record itself. All that double-plinth and glass platter anti-vibration voodoo was apparently paying dividends.
So I then went for the jugular. I recently paid too much on eBay for a very nice Japanese Beatles LP box (the Japanese equivalent of the British "BC13" box). These late-70s-vintage records and sleeves look untouched by human hands, although the box itself is pretty beat-up. I put on Abbey Road. Compared it to the stock CD.
Yowsa! Compared to this LP, the CD sounded cramped and boxed-in. The CD was a bit clearer, but the LP was ridiculously more present and alive. There's a bit in "Come Together" where Paul's bass sustains under John's voice ("hold you in his arms yeah you can feel his disease") and then abruptly stops. On the CD, it was just a hum. On the album, it throbbed. Cool! (Throbbing is good.)
I then pulled out an old unremarkable WB/Bearsville pressing of Todd Rundgren's Something/Anything. This was one of the records that had so underwhelmed me on my old turntable -- the Rhino CD was easily better. Now, though, the LP more than holds its own with a big, full, detailed sound.
I love this thing. If you've got a good number of LPs sitting around and not much to play them on, you can't do much better for under $500. Plus, you can enjoy that old snob appeal all over again. "Yeah, it's a cool album, but I'm waiting for it on LP."
Ryan
