The refrain is that top-tier equipment reveals details in the music that inferior gear would leave unexposed, which is absolutely true, but a pair of $1,200 headphones isn’t going to make me appreciate Taylor Swift any more than the disposable earbuds they give out on the plane, nor would the best speaker system in the world convince me that I need to hear Bohemian Rhapsody again. I’ve also come to realize the extent to which people use undeniably great equipment to listen to unbelievably bad music. Though my recent experiences evaluating high-end gear and writing glossaries of audiophile terminology have taught me to truly understand the flaws of my own equipment, leaving me feeling how Madonna must feel when she sees an unairbrushed photograph of her arms. Even if I have the ear, I don’t have the income, so me wanting to be an audiophile is a bit like a greeter at Walmart having a penchant for single malt scotch. While my love for music is as preternatural as my love for sugar, oxygen, and affection, I’ve never considered myself to be a bonafide audiophile.
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