Playing records is a delight-filled chore. The simple, quiet act of lowering a tonearm places one’s mind at the ready for something marvelous to happen. Surely, this gentle ritual initiates a higher mode of psychic connectedness than poking absentmindedly at a side-facing equilateral triangle on a piece of cheap plastic.
Every time I play a black disc, I am aware that I am participating in a rite that’s been passed down through generations. This feels especially true now, as I use Linn’s new, flagship Klimax LP12 record playing system. I’ve been using it now for several months.
The first time I raised the Linn’s dustcover, I let out my breath and sighed “whoa!” It felt so steady and controlled. I was gobsmacked by how this thick, luxurious lid holds any position along its path with absolute assurance—like magic. The original Sondek LP12, back in 1973, came with a stick on a hinge to prop its lid open.
Likewise, every time I move the Linn Ekos SE tonearm, it feels more sensuously tight-tolerance microprecise than any other arm I can remember. These experiences are important because, if you buy this Linn turntable, you will feel the feel of the lid and tonearm every time you play a disc—I’d call that an intimate, long-term relationship.
Next, you will feel, and possibly be stunned by, the not-subtle sonic impact of Linn’s new flagship moving coil cartridge, the Ekstatik.
The first record I played literally jumped into the room with its fantastic, uber-detailed, high-presence energy—my third Klimaxinspired moment, after the dustcover and the tonearm. As I played the second record, I sat admiring the deck’s fluted oak plinth and thought, . It’s a very different experience than, eg, the Japanesemade TechDAS, the made-in-Canada Kronos, or the made-in-America VPI. The made-in-Scotland Klimax is more wood-church old-Europe than