Why do we do this? “Being an audiophile”, I mean.
Fine, yes, it’s weird. Weird as a three-dollar-bill. Weird as Wicca. Yeah, weird. But I get that. People are weird. I mean the enterprise. Why audiophile. And not, say, a fan club. Why is this hobby not something more along the lines of “music appreciation club” or “art critic anonymous”. Why audiophile — with all the obsessive/compulsive fetishistic baggage that the term seems to haul about with it whenever it gate-crashes a casual conversation like a bus-load of pregnant nuns brandishing Uzis. That’s the part that gets me all head-scratchy.
Part of my question is that I sometimes lose track of the point. Is there one?
When Harry Pearson died last fall, something (else?) cracked loose and has been rattling around, distracting me on the rare occasion that I’m not running pell-mell from one fire event to another. In a very rare sense of the word, HP was a legend. Larger than life. His reputation stands like one of the Argonath, his out-flung hand stretching protectively over those wandering the landscape of the high-end in audio, sanctifying and admonishing. It’s unnerving. Comforting. Weird.
Excellent piece by Scott Hull Via parttimeaudiophile.com