Music service musing
Back in the dark ages of analogue recording, we used to play our music from pressed vinyl discs, or cassette tapes coated with metallic particles. While both still persist in very niche markets, the technology for delivering music from its producers to our ears has changed many times over the years. Arguably, for the better. Rather, potentially for the better. We have the means and the technology to deliver better-sounding, higher-fidelity music than in any time in history.
Anybody who remember peeling the cellophane off a fresh LP, putting on some good headphones and dropping the stylus for the record's first play can tell you that the fidelity of modern music is, for the most part, hot garbage. I'm not saying that modern music is bad, but that it tends to be over-compressed, and often delivered at a substandard bit rate. When I was doing my comparisons between Spotify and Tidal recently, it occurred to me just how much I've been compromising my standards in recent times.
I used to be a real high-fidelity buff. I could not afford my own good equipment, but I had a friend who shared similar tastes (and had a bigger budget). We spent hours tweaking and balancing. Using sound meters to assist with optimal speaker placement, and spending days pouring over magazines where we'd drool over statistics on signal-to-noise ratio, harmonic response, dynamic range and the like.
I had always sworn that I would build a dream audio system someday, once I had the space and the income. Eventually I got both, but the age of high fidelity had come and gone, and my priorities changed.
Mostly, though, I never got around to it.
When we were sharing an apartment in the early 80s, my older brother had a pretty decent stereo. Not great, but pretty decent. He had a Carver tuner and amplifier. I don't remember what speakers he had - they were one of those slightly boomy Japanese models that delivered adequate sound. This was in the days right before Compact Discs became the de facto format for music, and we'd both built ourselves admirable vinyl libraries. My brother tended to buy new, but I had mastered the art of finding good quality used records. I prided myself on sleuthing out fine rarities.
One such find was a copy of The Rolling Stones album Black and Blue. My brother already owned the album, but I'd noticed that this one was a Japanese press of it, and it was in mint condition. I probably wouldn't even have given it a second glance, but I remembered my friend waxing on in the past about how the Japanese press of albums tended to be much better quality. I bought it along with a copy of Jethro Tull's Passion Play that was stamped, "For DJ use only - not for resale!"
I got back to the apartment and slapped my copy of Black and Blue on the turntable for a listen. Even on my brother's set-up, I could tell that there was something special about that pressing. I was vaguely aware that my brother was hanging out in his bedroom, but when the song Melody came on, he finally stomped out to the living room and demanded to know what I was listening to. He'd played his own copy many times over the years, and even from the other room he could hear a marked difference in quality.
In trying to describe the difference, all I can say is that it was far more nuanced. The sound was much cleaner and precise. When I played that album, all I could think of, "This is what the music is supposed to sound like." That record left me slightly disappointed with my regular LPs after that - and a bit annoyed that the industry was selling us sub-standard audio in the interests of higher profit. The industry on this side of the Pacific had the technology and ability to press records of that quality. They simply chose not to.
Anyway, what set me down this path of musical musing was that I was doing some A/B comparisons between Spotify and Tidal again this evening. We've cancelled our Spotify Premium service, but I just wanted to do a few more comparisons before its paid period ran out. I was impressed again at the difference in fidelity between the two services. It varied from song to song, but the music on Tidal sounded universally better - the only variation was in how much better it sounded. The difference is in the bit rate. Even at its highest setting, Spotify sounds muddy and lifeless in comparison. And I daresay it sounds like they are compressing the music a bit to try and make up for that. As I was flipping back and forth between them, it reminded me of my experience with the different vinyl pressings.
It's not that Spotify sounds terrible - I was fine with the quality of the music on there until heard it on a better streaming service. It's not awful, but it's ... sub-standard.
And I'm tired of compromising on my music. I may never go back to the golden age of analogue, but I'm not going to keep paying a service for sub-par sound.
Anybody who remember peeling the cellophane off a fresh LP, putting on some good headphones and dropping the stylus for the record's first play can tell you that the fidelity of modern music is, for the most part, hot garbage. I'm not saying that modern music is bad, but that it tends to be over-compressed, and often delivered at a substandard bit rate. When I was doing my comparisons between Spotify and Tidal recently, it occurred to me just how much I've been compromising my standards in recent times.
I used to be a real high-fidelity buff. I could not afford my own good equipment, but I had a friend who shared similar tastes (and had a bigger budget). We spent hours tweaking and balancing. Using sound meters to assist with optimal speaker placement, and spending days pouring over magazines where we'd drool over statistics on signal-to-noise ratio, harmonic response, dynamic range and the like.
I had always sworn that I would build a dream audio system someday, once I had the space and the income. Eventually I got both, but the age of high fidelity had come and gone, and my priorities changed.
Mostly, though, I never got around to it.
When we were sharing an apartment in the early 80s, my older brother had a pretty decent stereo. Not great, but pretty decent. He had a Carver tuner and amplifier. I don't remember what speakers he had - they were one of those slightly boomy Japanese models that delivered adequate sound. This was in the days right before Compact Discs became the de facto format for music, and we'd both built ourselves admirable vinyl libraries. My brother tended to buy new, but I had mastered the art of finding good quality used records. I prided myself on sleuthing out fine rarities.
One such find was a copy of The Rolling Stones album Black and Blue. My brother already owned the album, but I'd noticed that this one was a Japanese press of it, and it was in mint condition. I probably wouldn't even have given it a second glance, but I remembered my friend waxing on in the past about how the Japanese press of albums tended to be much better quality. I bought it along with a copy of Jethro Tull's Passion Play that was stamped, "For DJ use only - not for resale!"
I got back to the apartment and slapped my copy of Black and Blue on the turntable for a listen. Even on my brother's set-up, I could tell that there was something special about that pressing. I was vaguely aware that my brother was hanging out in his bedroom, but when the song Melody came on, he finally stomped out to the living room and demanded to know what I was listening to. He'd played his own copy many times over the years, and even from the other room he could hear a marked difference in quality.
In trying to describe the difference, all I can say is that it was far more nuanced. The sound was much cleaner and precise. When I played that album, all I could think of, "This is what the music is supposed to sound like." That record left me slightly disappointed with my regular LPs after that - and a bit annoyed that the industry was selling us sub-standard audio in the interests of higher profit. The industry on this side of the Pacific had the technology and ability to press records of that quality. They simply chose not to.
Anyway, what set me down this path of musical musing was that I was doing some A/B comparisons between Spotify and Tidal again this evening. We've cancelled our Spotify Premium service, but I just wanted to do a few more comparisons before its paid period ran out. I was impressed again at the difference in fidelity between the two services. It varied from song to song, but the music on Tidal sounded universally better - the only variation was in how much better it sounded. The difference is in the bit rate. Even at its highest setting, Spotify sounds muddy and lifeless in comparison. And I daresay it sounds like they are compressing the music a bit to try and make up for that. As I was flipping back and forth between them, it reminded me of my experience with the different vinyl pressings.
It's not that Spotify sounds terrible - I was fine with the quality of the music on there until heard it on a better streaming service. It's not awful, but it's ... sub-standard.
And I'm tired of compromising on my music. I may never go back to the golden age of analogue, but I'm not going to keep paying a service for sub-par sound.