2015 Chapter 16:
When to Say “When”
Since the introduction of Yggdrasil, we’ve been sucked into more and more discussions that include what Mike likes to call “the Audio 1%.” At the same time, I’ve watched some listeners go all the way up the chain to car-priced DACs to try to find some incremental upgrade to Yggdrasil’s capabilities.
So, I gotta ask, “When do you say, ‘when?’”
I think it’s a question we should ask more often. I’ve seen people go down some very deep rabbit-holes (as in, spending $100k+ on audio gear, while living in a mobile home). I read jokes about it—
welcome to the hobby, sorry about your wallet. I have had long conversations with enthusiasts angsting over whether or not they should go for the latest megadollar product intro...
am I missing out? What if it’s as good as they say? I could get that and be done with buying forever…
Except you know it won’t be done. Ever.
Go back and read that again. The current latest and greatest will be superseded by something that is even later and greater, and the gnawing little voice will come back…
what if it’s dramatically better? Can I afford to miss this? Just one more purchase….
Except it’s not just one more. Not the last. Not done. Not ever.
Knowing when to say “when” starts with accepting this fact. There will always be something better. Or at least something that seems better. Or claims better. Always. Forever and ever. Even if you buy $20,000 monoblock amplifiers. Even if you commission Nelson Pass to personally hand-build bespoke 1000W Class-A 4-chassis monoblocks out of iridium and diamond at a cost that rivals the GNP of a small nation. Even if you find that lost crystal transmitter in grandma’s attic that calls down the space aliens, who give you an antimatter-powered direct-brain-stimulation with 100% guaranteed PerfectPerception™ synapse certification, containing every concert in Earth’s history, from a 10,000-year-old bone flute to the latest EDM.
Accept that there will
always be something better.
It. Will. Never. Be. Over.
Lessons from Other Hobbies
“Okay, so how can you sit back and pontificate about all of this, all cool and Spock-like?” some will be asking. “Are you perfect, while all of us are flawed?”
Ho ho. Nothing could be so far from the truth. I’ve gotten sucked into the black hole. Big time. I just took my header in a different hobby: cars.
I’ve owned exotics. I’ve owned high-dollar perfect restorations. I’ve owned several of both at the same time. Because the corollary to
There’s always something better is
there’s no dose like an overdose, or, “If one is good, two is better, and many is best.”
Except…what the hell do you do once you have your exotic?
There’ll always be a better one next year. And even if you can ignore the one next year, the body style will change in another two or three years. And then you’re back on the lot, with a trade that cost you $30/mile to drive it.
And what do you do once you have your perfect restoration?
Every time you drive it, it’s less perfect…and the more you look at it, the less perfect it seems. Surely someone could have done a better job on the frame, you think. And you begin wondering. And you start looking at cars for sale again.
And, when you’re into the racing side of cars, you rapidly become familiar with this expression:
Anything can happen on the track.
Your new Ferrari 458 was just beat by a modded STI on a road course? Sure, seen that. New Viper killed by an electric 510 at a drag race? Sure, seen that. A whole bunch of people at an illegal street race deciding that the old 50s iron that a couple of old-timers brought out was way cooler than racing, transforming the whole thing into an impromptu car show? Sure, been there too. Sometimes it’s not about being the fastest, or being the most exotic, or being the most perfect.
And those are usually the best times.
And then you start realizing,
You know, I don’t really enjoy any of these damn things, all I do is clean them and wrench on them and then worry every second I drive them…so what the hell am I doing?
(Well, either that or you get enough money to go full-on crazy and get a warehouse and a staff to maintain them…but there’s no real danger of that around here.)
And you realize even more, as you clean and wrench and angst and shop for even more cars:
- This crap is eating my life. There’s a whole lot more interesting things than cars out there.
- Nobody really gives a crap (except for me) how new and exotic or old and perfect my stuff is.
- Buying the ultimate is never the ultimate, never the end.
- The buying high doesn’t last very long, and frequently comes with an expensive hangover.
- The more I try to buy my way out of my dissatisfaction with my current stable, the less satisfied I am.
But that’s the reason you see me driving much less crazy iron these days, even though I have even greater capability to spend on cars.
Because I realized,
There’s always something better.
And decided (after wasting tons of money, time, and angst)
it didn’t matter. In fact, super-exotics and perfect restos now amuse me more than anything. I sit back and nod, knowing how they really feel…the paranoia, the insecurity, the whole crazy merry-go-round. Someday they may realize just how crazy they are, and say “when.” Or maybe they won’t.
And that’s how I feel about car-priced DACs and amps that cost like home remodels: amused. Because I know those ultimate systems will soon be up for sale on Audiogon, as the owner chases the next “last and best purchase.”
So, How Do You Let Go?
Okay, wonderful, but how do I achieve this same level of don’t-caredness? you might be thinking.
Good question. I’m not sure I have all the answers, other than really burning yourself out and learning a big painful lession, but I hope I can give you a few signposts.
- When someone says, “The new Snortledorfer III DAC is the closest thing to live music, and clearly justifies its $28,463 price tag,” or “Of course the $2,000 NambyPamby 1000 isn’t as good as the $11,500 Pflugternik Amazonian S.VII, because it is brighter and more etched,” silently append the following statements in your mind*:
- In his or her opinion.
- According to their biases.
- Among the handful of products they’ve heard.
- Think of the amazing world of experiences you’re shutting yourself out of, when you OCD-out on one tiny thing (like audio.) Instead of buying that car-priced DAC, imagine:
- Taking a trip to Antarctica (or another exotic destination where you have enough time to get out beyond the tourist traps and broaden your horizons.)
- Or go to a few dozen (or a few hundred) live concerts
- Or, closer to home, touring vineyards in France
- Or, more practically, learning French. Or Chinese. Or English.
- Or, wackier, learning to fly a plane and getting your pilot’s license.
- Or getting the gear you need to brew your own beer
- Or transforming that back room into your perfect workspace, just like you always wanted.
- Or getting the tools you need to take up woodworking
- Or a 3D printer
- Or hell, just buying a car
- Keep reminding yourself, It’s never over. No matter how much you think your audio journey will end with your big-ticket purchase, know that it won’t be. Remind yourself of when you’ve said, “This is the last big buy,” or “That should do it…forever.”
*I think the continual regurgitation of
opinions as de-facto, settled facts is the biggest source of angst, flames, and in-fighting in audio—and, by extension, one of the biggest sources of “not saying ‘when.’” If every reviewer…hell, if every
person on a forum was required to repeat,
“This is my opinion, I am biased like everyone else, and I haven’t heard everything,” until they got this
viscerally, in their gut, the world would be a lot better place.
News frigging flash:
- Not everyone likes the same sonic profile
- You may be 100% opposite the preferences of a self-professed expert
- The person may be totally wrong or mistaken
- These de-facto pronouncements are sometimes (er, usually) made based on short auditions in different locations, and sometimes made as regurgitations of other pronouncements, with no knowledge of the product at all
- And…you don’t know if the person doing the pronouncing has an agenda
Bottom line, there’s a lot of great gear out there. There’s terrific stuff for everyone. But you, and only you, can decide
what’s for you.
So How Do You Decide When To Say When?
Aha. This is a harder question.
First, it’s a hell of an egotistic thing for me to say, “Yes, I can advise you on how best to spend your money.” Bottom line: I can’t. I’m not you.
Plus, I bet there’s a big variance in how much you
can spend, and how much you
feel comfortable spending. If I was to guess, the “how much you feel comfortable spending” would be a better way to judge when to say when, especially if you append, “for a product that isn’t critical to my life,” to the phrase.
Or at least that’s how I’d play it. If I can’t easily and comfortably spend the money, I’m already at the “when.” And even if I can easily and spend the money, I might still pass on spending it. If I already have a system that meets my needs, or is close to what I’m contemplating, I’d most likely pass.
But I’m very fiscally conservative. You may be more adventurous.
And you may even be the kind of person who never has to say, “when.” You have the wherewithal to simply keep buying and expanding your audio gear without regard to price. You have multiple large homes, expensive cars, and deep liquid cash reserves. You are
true Audio 1% types.
But I think a lot of the people buying 1% gear don’t necessarily fall into this type. I think that many of the customers for 1% gear find buying something that costs five figures is a significant expenditure, especially when there are no easy financing or leasing options.
And this is when you have to decide: audio or lifestyle? Sound or travel? Gear or personal enrichment? That’s a decision only you can make.
And, of course, there are tons of people who aren’t looking at 1% gear at all, and for whom a $1000 or $100 system purchase requires a profound sit-down-and-think-on-it session before making the plunge.
And I understand. I’ve been there. For much of my life, a $100 system was about all I could afford, unless I made it myself. For another big part of my life, $1000 was crazy, unless that was just the retail price and I got it via a gear swap or designed it for a company I worked for. And I went through both the three-figure and four-figure stages thinking, “Man oh man, it’s gonna be great when I can really put together a cost-no-object system!”
But a couple of things happened on the way to that. One was the audio market veering out of control into full gold-plated-Bentleyland (when I started working for Mike at Theta, I thought a $3,000 DAC was beyond the pale…when $16K DACs started appearing, it was a step so far up the ladder, I knew I’d never be comfortable there.) The other was that I realized that I enjoyed the cheap Cobalt about as much as the Thetas, when it came right down to it. Yes, it wasn’t quite as good, and no, it wasn’t going to light the world on fire, but it was fun, musical, and enjoyable. And that was enough.
So I learned when to say “when” in audio pretty early. When I say “Magni 2 and Modi 2 may be the only amp and DAC you’ll ever need,” I mean it sincerely. When I tell someone, “Don’t bother with the amp and DAC at all, spend more on your headphones,” I’m 100% serious.
Can you spend more, and get more? Sure.
But is it
fun? Maybe that’s a better metric. Is it as thrilling as that first taste of exceptional sound? Is it so much better than going out and experiencing live music, or traveling, or learning to cook or brew or fly? Is it so much fun that it eclipses everything else in your life?
Maybe it is.
But maybe it isn’t.
Aaaaand…
if you aren’t having fun with your gear, your gear is having fun with you.
