In January of 2024 an article came out in The Washington Post that made a fairly big splash in the audiophile community. WP writer Geoff Edgers tells the story of the late Ken Fritz, who spent nearly his entire adult life building a stereo to end all stereos, spending upwards of $1,000,000 in the process.

Much of the interest in the article among audiophiles centered on the sizable dollar amount and what it may or may not have delivered in the way of a great sounding stereo. “Would have been pretty amazing to hear it!” “What idiot would do that?” And so forth.

I’ve also seen some comments highlighting Fritz’s outsized commitment to this crazy hobby and his DIY ethos. Some audiophiles seem to admire him and his dedication to his pursuit, admiration only reinforced by the poignant fact that near the end of his life, crippled by the effects of ALS, he struggled to even play a record.

Edgers tells Fritz’s story more as a cautionary tale than a celebration of his accomplishments. Fritz sacrificed an awful lot for that stereo, including his relationship with his oldest son, and he died without them ever reconciling. On a more practical level, he left his family with the burden of his life’s work – an under-appreciated audio system that they were eventually forced to sell off in parts, and what I imagine was a rather large record collection to go with it.

Edgers’ article got me thinking about the ways in which being an audiophile has impacted my life, both positively and negatively. I can say without fear of contradiction that my wife would prefer I was not as into this hobby as I am, and we have butted heads numerous times over the attention it takes away from her and the time we might otherwise spend together.

On the other hand, she can appreciate that I have a genuine passion for it, and that my involvement with audio holds an important place in my life. I think she can also see that, in some ways, it’s helped me to grow as a person.

I’ve always been a pretty capable guy with the ability to learn new things and develop modest proficiencies with relative ease. But I’ve never been what I’d consider to be a hard worker, and I’ve tended to follow the path of least resistance when it comes to confronting the challenges in my life.

For me, audio has been integral to developing a genuinely serious work ethic. As any audiophile worth their salt knows, building a great sounding stereo is hard work. It requires a certain single-minded determination to get great sound, and by endeavoring to elevate my system and cultivating the willingness to do what it takes to achieve that, I’ve enjoyed success, both in audio as well as in other areas of my life.

Audio and the ongoing pursuit of better sound has also helped me see how many assumptions I make and how often these assumptions lead directly to setbacks and conflict. I lightly brushed on this issue in my articles on ferrites and Isoacoustics footers. In building our systems and trying to make them sound great, we audiophiles make A LOT of assumptions about what will help in that endeavor and what won’t, way more assumptions than we realize.

These assumptions are not the real problem. The real problem is our failure to take the extra step of challenging those assumptions. This undermines our goal of getting the best sound possible, not to mention the harmony that can bring to our lives. I don’t know about you, but when my stereo is sounding great, I feel much less distracted and have an easier time engaging in my work and social life, not to mention my marriage. It’s nice to have an occasional break from the gravitational pull my audio system can place on my attention.

An example of one assumption I made that held me back for several years relates to the turntable I’ve been using, a Merrill-Williams R.E.A.L. 101.2. It comes with a very nice center weight, and I have little doubt that the folks who designed the 101.2 felt that center weight added something important, maybe even essential, to the way the table plays records.

Since buying the table, my basic assumption has been to assume MW knew what they were doing when they sold the table with that weight, and I’ve dutifully put that weight on every record I play, assuming it will sound its best that way.

A few months ago it occurred to me to play a record without the weight. When I finally did that, it was immediately clear to me that the record sounded better. The weight was adding some bloom to the mid-bass, and it was dampening the upper midrange and top end. Maybe that’s the sound Merrill-Williams was going for when they designed the 101.2, but it’s definitely not the sound I want.

In my defense, I had tested this before. Early on in my tenure with the 101.2, I played a record or two both with and without the weight, and found I liked the sound better with it. But since then my system has gotten much more revealing, particularly in the bass and lower midrange. Perhaps back then my system needed the extra “help” this center weight gives in the lower frequencies. Now it doesn’t. Nor does it need the loss of upper midrange transparency and top end extension that comes with that.

If I thought hard, I could probably give you at least a dozen examples of things I’ve done over the years that seemed to work at the time and that I moved forward with without further testing. These are things I did that I wish I’d undone a lot sooner.

Usually, I do eventually root these things out and fix them. Thank goodness I did that with the ferrites or I’d still be wondering what the heck is wrong with the sound of my system. Either that or I’d have long ago “corrected” the problem with some sort of band-aid approach – a VERY common occurrence in the audiophile world. High-end wires, anyone?

For now, I’ll leave you to ponder the above and encourage you to take a good long look at your system. Consider and then, reconsider, everything about it, what each part contributes to the sound of your favorite records and what elements, if any, might be hurting the sound. I’m willing to bet there are things you can do right now that will make your system sound better, maybe even a lot better, that likely won’t cost you a dime.

And if you want some help, feel free to reach out to me. I’m now offering my services, just as I have for a handful of other analog audiophiles. The help I’ve given has already delivered results that exceeded the expectations of those who entertained the possibility that I might have something worthwhile to offer them. Who knows? Maybe I can help you improve your system too.

In any case, know this – your system can DEFINITELY sound better than it does right now. Of that, I’m absolutely certain. Don’t make the mistake I’ve made and that so many other audiophiles have made and assume otherwise. Instead, get someone with a very good eye and ear to look over what you’ve got, listen to how it sounds and offer skilled guidance on how you can move your system forward.

Better sound awaits you!