When I was still wearing diapers, my parents had a huge piece of furniture called a radio-grammophone. Through the single loudspeaker of this monster, I learned to appreciate the pure sound of audio-Nirvana delivered by the built-in turntable playing 78's with some of the more distinguished singers and orchestras of that time. This would have been 1952-53.
When I first started out on my own in my enjoying music some 40 years ago, I had a strange contraption called a "stereo record player". It was a cheap genuine plastic-all-over junk apparatus, and the lid was actually a set of detachable speakers, why it claimed to produce something called "stereo". Fancy!
It had, as far as I remember, between 1 and 5 grams of needle pressure adjustable in 1 gram steps, by means of some sort of spring tension. Easy and simple, but not very hifi. The output was listed on the label on the bottom of the thingy, and boasted a mindblowing 2 times 8 Watts! It was probably no more than half of that, and at least half of that was most likely noise. But some sort of sound did indeed escape the so-called loudspeakers. Back then some of the music I listened to was labelled "groovy", and so it was. Meaning, I suspect that I heard more groove sound than anything else, but never the less, I loved the device.
One day when the thingy was spinning Santana's third album, I was in the kitchen making a few sandwiches or whatever. All of a sudden Carlos' guitar sounded very peculiar to me, like the tracks kept on changing from one to another, and back again. Wondering about this mystery, I dragged my butt into my room. It turned out to be the cat playing ping-pong with the "tonearm". Undoubtedly lots of fun for him, but not so much for me. I never was able to play that specific side of the LP ever again.
Those were indeed the days when I learned to love the Mamas and the Papas, Santana, CSNY and John Mayall. The upstairs neighbour even complained about the "bass", LOL. I wonder what he would've thought living upstairs from someone like DUP. It probably would have blown his socks clean off, and his plantar warts too! In my infinite wisdom I attached some egg-crates to the ceiling, thinking I would thus make life a bit easier for myself and the grumpy upstairs gentleman, but no such luck. My dad didn't like them, so I was commanded to tear down my "room perfection" devices.
Anyway, smoothly skipping a long and tiresome struggle in search of the "perfect sound", today I am blessed with 3 times 150 good, clean Watts, which is sufficient for me, and more than sufficient for my neighbours. This would surely be considered "a large clock radio" by the above-mentioned DUP, but serves my needs to my satisfaction. I almost never play loud anyway. I have already suffered enough damage to my precious ears as it is, attending several rock concerts, and for example standing next to the gigantic speakers of Alvin Lee during a whole concert. My ears were still whistling 2 days later! Talk about Tinnitus!
Well, those were the good old days...
When I was still wearing diapers, my parents had a huge piece of furniture called a radio-grammophone. Through the single loudspeaker of this monster, I learned to appreciate the pure sound of audio-Nirvana delivered by the built-in turntable playing 78's with some of the more distinguished singers and orchestras of that time. This would have been 1952-53.
When I first started out on my own in my enjoying music some 40 years ago, I had a strange contraption called a "stereo record player". It was a cheap genuine plastic-all-over junk apparatus, and the lid was actually a set of detachable speakers, why it claimed to produce something called "stereo". Fancy!
It had, as far as I remember, between 1 and 5 grams of needle pressure adjustable in 1 gram steps, by means of some sort of spring tension. Easy and simple, but not very hifi. The output was listed on the label on the bottom of the thingy, and boasted a mindblowing 2 times 8 Watts! It was probably no more than half of that, and at least half of that was most likely noise. But some sort of sound did indeed escape the so-called loudspeakers. Back then some of the music I listened to was labelled "groovy", and so it was. Meaning, I suspect that I heard more groove sound than anything else, but never the less, I loved the device.
One day when the thingy was spinning Santana's third album, I was in the kitchen making a few sandwiches or whatever. All of a sudden Carlos' guitar sounded very peculiar to me, like the tracks kept on changing from one to another, and back again. Wondering about this mystery, I dragged my butt into my room. It turned out to be the cat playing ping-pong with the "tonearm". Undoubtedly lots of fun for him, but not so much for me. I never was able to play that specific side of the LP ever again.
Those were indeed the days when I learned to love the Mamas and the Papas, Santana, CSNY and John Mayall. The upstairs neighbour even complained about the "bass", LOL. I wonder what he would've thought living upstairs from someone like DUP. It probably would have blown his socks clean off, and his plantar warts too! In my infinite wisdom I attached some egg-crates to the ceiling, thinking I would thus make life a bit easier for myself and the grumpy upstairs gentleman, but no such luck. My dad didn't like them, so I was commanded to tear down my "room perfection" devices.
Anyway, smoothly skipping a long and tiresome struggle in search of the "perfect sound", today I am blessed with 3 times 150 good, clean Watts, which is sufficient for me, and more than sufficient for my neighbours. This would surely be considered "a large clock radio" by the above-mentioned DUP, but serves my needs to my satisfaction. I almost never play loud anyway. I have already suffered enough damage to my precious ears as it is, attending several rock concerts, and for example standing next to the gigantic speakers of Alvin Lee during a whole concert. My ears were still whistling 2 days later! Talk about Tinnitus!
Well, those were the good old days...