I am wondering to what extend is your interest, passion and even obsession with hifi, sound and music shared with those close to you? Does your hobby create connection moments for you, or is it more a safe space into which you can retreat and in solitude find some time to revive yourself from the challenges and stress of everyday life?
When at Varsity we were part of a circle of friends who regularly gathered in the evening and had music evenings. Often it was around a bowl of freshly cooked soup or a pizza and of course a bottle or two of wine. We would each get a chance to spin an LP and then say something about why we choose the particular piece of music. The systems were of course important and I recall the Dunlop System Deck, Arcam Delta 290 and Arcam Delta 2 speakers or my own Thorens, Lindsay Hood and DIY speakers. The music, however, connected us. We talked about life, love, and dreams and found inspiration frown Folk Music and thought listening to Pink Floyd was cool, felt part of the Voël Vry moment and gained our political consciousness as young white adults(looking back now, I think a bit late perhaps) John Denver’s Poems, Prayers and Promises comes to mind and capture our experience.
Late, late in the night couples would disappear and return and the music would continue to be played. Guessing games as to what next song would be played amused us. Music, friendship, food and drinks were blended to create rich bonds and memories. New music was discovered, new philosophies of life developed and our shared interest was the catalyst.
Without even noticing adulthood crept in. Systems became more expensive, gatherings became more formal and soup and bread were replaced with dinner evenings with wine pairing. Instead of dreams, the topics under discussion became worries and office or school politics.
And the systems became even more fancy and expensive. The communal element shifted more into the background. The music also changed. In the beginning, it was the music that touched our souls and hearts, made us slow dance, now it had to be sophisticated and well-recorded. It even became a signal of superiority.
These days, every now and again, a glimpse of what I had in the early years shows up when an impromptu listening session unfolds. It usually starts off with an invite for my family or friends to listen to a song that means something to me, or when we listen to my wife or daughter’s playlists during dinner and some moving music triggers our interests and maybe makes a comment. I might even change an amp to honour the moment and shared experience, like opening a special vintage of wine.
These shared moments are in stark contrast to the isolation that our hobby can induce. With time I realised the risks of becoming obsessed with aspects of our hobby. Now I mindfully work at making my interest a point of connection. It is not even that difficult, just stay away from the deraillers such as playing music too loud, being insensitive to the experience of my friends and loved ones and focusing on the content rather than the vehicle.
Of course, music can also transport me into a private place of solitude and deep reflection but I realised that my hobby can easily under the pretence of this deep reflection be a way to isolate myself in an unhealthy way.
Maybe it is time to read Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance again
It would be nice to hear your reflections and experiences …
When at Varsity we were part of a circle of friends who regularly gathered in the evening and had music evenings. Often it was around a bowl of freshly cooked soup or a pizza and of course a bottle or two of wine. We would each get a chance to spin an LP and then say something about why we choose the particular piece of music. The systems were of course important and I recall the Dunlop System Deck, Arcam Delta 290 and Arcam Delta 2 speakers or my own Thorens, Lindsay Hood and DIY speakers. The music, however, connected us. We talked about life, love, and dreams and found inspiration frown Folk Music and thought listening to Pink Floyd was cool, felt part of the Voël Vry moment and gained our political consciousness as young white adults(looking back now, I think a bit late perhaps) John Denver’s Poems, Prayers and Promises comes to mind and capture our experience.
Late, late in the night couples would disappear and return and the music would continue to be played. Guessing games as to what next song would be played amused us. Music, friendship, food and drinks were blended to create rich bonds and memories. New music was discovered, new philosophies of life developed and our shared interest was the catalyst.
Without even noticing adulthood crept in. Systems became more expensive, gatherings became more formal and soup and bread were replaced with dinner evenings with wine pairing. Instead of dreams, the topics under discussion became worries and office or school politics.
And the systems became even more fancy and expensive. The communal element shifted more into the background. The music also changed. In the beginning, it was the music that touched our souls and hearts, made us slow dance, now it had to be sophisticated and well-recorded. It even became a signal of superiority.
These days, every now and again, a glimpse of what I had in the early years shows up when an impromptu listening session unfolds. It usually starts off with an invite for my family or friends to listen to a song that means something to me, or when we listen to my wife or daughter’s playlists during dinner and some moving music triggers our interests and maybe makes a comment. I might even change an amp to honour the moment and shared experience, like opening a special vintage of wine.
These shared moments are in stark contrast to the isolation that our hobby can induce. With time I realised the risks of becoming obsessed with aspects of our hobby. Now I mindfully work at making my interest a point of connection. It is not even that difficult, just stay away from the deraillers such as playing music too loud, being insensitive to the experience of my friends and loved ones and focusing on the content rather than the vehicle.
Of course, music can also transport me into a private place of solitude and deep reflection but I realised that my hobby can easily under the pretence of this deep reflection be a way to isolate myself in an unhealthy way.
Maybe it is time to read Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance again
It would be nice to hear your reflections and experiences …
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