I’ve always been a city dweller and can’t lay claim to having owned boats, riding mowers, shotguns, basement refrigerators, golf clubs, or even patio furniture. When I moved to a loft from an apartment with a tiny backyard some 13 years ago, I even had to give up my Weber grill. This geographical fact has kept my possessions streamlined. My favorites include a handful of old waxed cotton coats, a couple dozen leather boots and shoes, a few mechanical watches, my Garrard 301 turntable, a roomful of books, and rather a lot of art, much of it made by friends. But without a doubt my fondest possessions are my records. At last count they numbered around 3500. Of course they are beautiful, both as objects and as conduits for music. But what I enjoy even more is the fact that I’m not really their owner, merely a custodian: Most of the records belonged to others before I bought them, and after I’m gone they’ll find new owners who’ll hopefully appreciate them as much as I do. So I feel I owe it to all of us to keep them in decent condition.
For years, that meant scrubbing and vacuuming them with a VPI HW-16.5 record-cleaning machine. My partner gave one to me for my birthday about 25 years ago. I recall being quite excited about it. It cost around $400 (it sells for two-and-a-half times that today) and, for better or worse, it outlasted my partner. It has also become the best-selling machine of its kind, found in countless record shops, music archives, and homes. The VPI is sturdy enough to last forever, and more importantly, it works. God bless it.
To be completely honest, though, my relationship with the VPI has been a bit rocky. Over the years I’ve gone on record-cleaning frenzies, vacuuming my way through a couple of
