More Letters from Customers and Critics Alike
Hi Tom,
I know you will be delighted to know that you’ve created something really special here in Pittsburgh.
Last night, Bill had us over for a listening session. Brisket tacos, Japanese whiskey, and his newest pile of White Hot Stampers. The official reason for the get-together (not that we needed any excuse) was because a work colleague of ours, David, had made an offhand remark a couple weeks ago that “vinyl doesn’t sound good.” Bill took that as a direct challenge!
The evening started with some Tidal streaming to Bill’s Chord DAC. David was selecting tracks off his iphone, and he put on The Chain. That was all Bill needed – he grabbed his White Hot Stamper of Rumours, and once the song ended, we switched over to vinyl.
Before the music even started, we could all hear the crackle and pop in the run-in groove. David commented, “see, that’s what I don’t like about vinyl.” We sat and listened to the rest of the song. The crackle of course vanished from our consciousness once the music started, or rather, it kind of hung out in a different space from where the music was. At the end, as if evaluating a fine whiskey, David offered that the bass was more clearly defined on the vinyl, less dominant and bloated, and that there were details he was hearing in the vinyl that he just hadn’t noticed in the digital. He characterized the vinyl/digital difference as, “I guess it depends on what you’re going for.”
I had brought my EAR with me. Bill swapped a few cables, and with the EAR in place, we listened to The Chain again, now utterly enraptured. I turned to David at the end, and all he said this time was, “that was fantastic.”
From there, there was no stopping us. We listened to Wish You Were Here. Tchaikovsky’s violin concerto. Rhapsody in Blue. Abraxas. All just mesmerising, room-filling sound. Once a record went on the table, it didn’t come off until the side was over.
David had brought along a stack of his dad’s records. In the pile was SRV’s Couldn’t Stand The Weather. Turns out Bill had just come across a super-clean copy in the used racks at one of our local shops. We played Tin Pan Alley back to back, first with David’s copy then Bill’s. David found out for himself that no two copies of a record sound the same. And Bill was reminded that he can’t just walk into a store, buy a Near Mint record, and expect to get something that sounds great.
