by TBR contributor Adam Gates
Elvis Never Left The Building
While owning multiple copies of various LP’s has been a constant throughout my record buying life, (I, of course, have many obligatory copies of Aja) my particular vinyl obsession manifested with Elvis Costello’s Armed Forces.
I’m not exactly sure what part of my personality is satiated by purchasing over 30 copies of the same LP, but I do know that this compulsion to find the most musical example of the best rock record ever recorded became my personal, post modern, Arthurian quest. I can say, without reservation, that I am an expert on the sound of this LP, and that it’s been lovingly burned into my poor, aging synapses. I wear this proudly.
I have spent a large portion of my life being immersed in sound. Major label recording contracts necessitated years in major recording studios. A home studio (in some shape or form) has always been as imperative to me as a kitchen is to most other people.
From the age of 13 on I’ve spent my available time in clubs, auditoriums and large venues – places where the angelic brutality of contemporary live rock sound lives. I probably reached that mythical audio tipping point in my 20’s? I’m lucky that some of my best friends have plenty of shiny Grammy statues and extra shiny platinum awards. It’s been a life of music. Shameful? Yeah, kinda. But it’s the truth.
So with all of this auditory submission, one would think I’d yearn for some silence in my waning years. BUT I’M SICK! And my particular sickness demands to hear the absolute best snare/bass combo on the Armed Forces track “Green Shirt”. Some people do Meth. Some love porn. Me? I do countless versions of the UK, OP of Armed Forces. Go figure.
The Word “Good”
When I first saw the Better Records version of my beloved Armed Forces, my instant knee jerk reaction was, understandably, the flipping money! Political sensibilities, born from some misguided proletariat notion that LP’s should remain accessible for all, certainly informed my initial reaction to Tom Port’s offerings. And this dynamic remains a major clarion call for the armies of Better Records detractors (scam artist! Audio-fool! One-Percenter! FEEL THE BERN!).
I initially thought the Better Records offering of Armed Forces was just something for those rarefied audiophiles with mountains of obscenely priced gear. That is, until I saw the three magic words on their website that changed everything. Money Back Guarantee.
Wait. Money back guarantee? Was this dude actually saying he knows what the word “good” actually means? So much so that he created an entire business model based on his flipping opinions?
Now I knew that I had to at least try one of his records.
My system was not obscenely expensive at the time, but I had spent enough to feel I could at least kinda properly judge the sound of this slab (Sigh..spent enough. Another concept that would be beaten into dust by this experience..more on this later).
And, dear reader, you can probably see where this is going.
It wasn’t just that Port’s Armed Forces was better. What really disturbed me was that after all these copies and all these years, how little I actually knew of this LP’s sonic signature. Of course it was the same LP, but now what I was hearing sounded like someone had cleaned my Costello horn rim glasses so I could finally see what Elvis wanted me to see. Hyperbole aside..it was flippin’ good.
I lent it to friends. I did double blind shoot-outs. I listened to it on a myriad of credible systems. No one, and I mean not one person did not easily pick Port’s version as being wildly superior. And please understand, my sample base was composed of my musician friends (who think the idea of spending more than $40 on a LP is obscene.) as well as some hyper-audiophile snobs (who scoff at my cartridge and call it “cute”). They all agreed on how good the Hot Stamper was. Some predictably thought I was insane for buying it, but they still agreed.
Some Dude, In An Office Park, In LA.
Many months later my pal Richard Metzger (a man of obscenely good tastes and one of the best underground curators of this century) peripherally introduced me to Robert Brook. Richard turned me on to Robert’s site The Broken Record and, after my Better Records experience, I was really pleased to see that Robert not only put lots of stock in Port’s sonic opinions (I was delighted to see he was a Better Records customer). He also approached this hobby from a perspective that I found rather refreshing. He was less dogmatic, offered real world advice and did testing.
Understand that in this hobby, to find someone who shares the same definition of “good” is akin to successfully signaling a plane when stranded on a desert island after years of waiting. And because Robert turned out to be an incredibly kind/ giving person, and we live in the same area, I was invited to his home to have a listen to a few LP’s on his system.
Most people would treat this invite casually, but for me the idea of listening to my prized Hot Stamper on a system that I suspected was informed by Port’s views on achieving the best possible audio experience made me rather..well..excited.
And, dear reader, you can probably see where this is going.
Hearing my Armed Forces Hot Stamper on Robert’s system trounced my other listening experiences with this record. I mean, it was WAY better. Not with that abstractly-with-the-squinting-
Then, after telling Robert that I was selling off much of my system and rebuilding, he reiterated a nugget of information that he had posted on his site. He casually said that I may want to explore early 70’s Japanese amps. He said these low wattage vintage boxes of yesteryear may surprise me, and that he had heard of this from Tom Port. And yes, he was using one!
Was it better than a Prima Luna Evo 400? The amp I used to have? I remained skeptical. But I was also skeptical when faced with Better Records prices. And these boxes were relatively inexpensive so…
So I lucked into a Sansui AU 7500. I stuffed my 12 gauge speaker wire into the spring loaded connectors (like when I was a kid!) and ran them to my Fortes.
And, dear reader, you can probably see where this is going.
Here was my second indicator that some dude in an office park in LA knew what the word good means.
My Fortes exploded with life!
The low end was simply magical. Rich, punchy and even. No smeary bloat like with the tube amp. Everything sounded bigger, richer and most importantly, more musical. The pairing, even with a less than great turntable, erased my previous set-up.
Good Is Good
So now you had better believe that I scour Port’s Better Records site for information. I figured it out. One of his main goals is (of course) to sell LP’s, but it’s also (and perhaps more importantly, where his legacy is concerned) to make people better listeners. This is a learned art.
And now I listen to Robert’s recommendations on what he has to say about Phono Pre’s …
And now, because of the Sansui, my mind has been opened to trying stuff that the high end audio shops, when pressed, will scoff at in total disdain.
I am delighted that, with my history in sound, at my age, I’m excited by all the things I have yet to learn to become a better listener.
Being a frequent poster to the Hoffman Forums, I often find myself defending Tom Port against people who bitterly, and most times, irrationally loathe him. I dismantle ALL of their arguments with three simple words:
Money. Back. Guarantee.
I smoke them. I turn them to dust. It’s fun!
Think about it, how many people, in this industry of inflated opinions, will step up and say “I know what good means” AND (maybe more importantly) are not afraid to say what really sucks! Because, when you actually compare stuff, lots of stuff really DOES suck!
The detractors eventually all slink away, and while I can guess that Mr Port would probably give a flying f@#k what they think of him, I do find it surreally entertaining defending some dude who listens to piles of records in an office park in LA.
But I have an incredible sounding Armed Forces to prove it.
And, as it turns out, good is really f@#king good.