Phono Cartridge Reviews

A friend who sells high-end audio gear once pointed out that people who shop for separate tonearms are very different from those interested in phono cartridges or turntables in general. If you think about it, this makes sense. Almost everyone buying a new turntable needs a cartridge to go with it, and most turntables come equipped with a tonearm. Tonearm shoppers are more avid enthusiasts than general consumers.

It wasn't always that way. In earlier days of high fidelity, 60 or more years ago, people putting together a cutting-edge phono playback system would typically buy what was known as a motor unit: a Thorens TD 124, Garrard 301, or a few years later the Garrard 401 or Technics SP-10. They would match it up with a tonearm from a company like SME or Ortofon.

The story goes that starting in 1962, Malcolm Jones was KEF's "first employee," where he "did most of the design and development of the legendary KEF drive units—the B139, B200, B110, T15, T27—and the systems in which they were incorporated. Malcolm left KEF in 1974, having just completed the Reference Series 104 system and work on an active professional monitor to work full time at Falcon Acoustics Ltd."

Fast-forward a few years. I bought my first BBC LS3/5a in 1980. It was a Falcon Acoustics kit I saw advertised in the back of Speaker Builder magazine. Fingers crossed, I sent a postal money order in a thin Air Mail envelope to what I imagined was a garden shed in England. But of course it wasn't.

The day I visited Stereophile Senior Contributing Editor Kalman Rubinson, I arrived back home with a headful of new understandings, but before I could ponder those things, I made a cup of tea and sat down to read a few New York Times obituaries.

While Kal and I sat chatting on his couch, he told me that reading obituaries was not only fascinating but had actually helped him find out what happened to a few people he had lost touch with. I told him I hadn't read Times obits in years but when I did, I did it to enjoy the quality of writing. We agreed that the Times's obituaries (as well as their Sports, Food, and Arts & Leisure pages) are good places to find inspired bits of pure journalism.

After some raving about our favorite journalists, we began telling when-we-were-kid stories about how we used to stare through the grille cloths on table radios, where inside by the speaker we would see the announcer's face, and sometimes whole orchestras—in miniature—on a dark stage where the speaker cone morphed into a concert shell.