How I Became The Reluctant Audiophile

It was a pair of over-ears in a high-street shop, bought on a Saturday afternoon with no real research and no real plan. They sounded better than the stock earbuds I had been using since approximately 2014, which was an extremely low bar.

I remember thinking, very clearly, “Right. That’s headphones sorted then.” Reader, that was not the end of headphones.

Six months later I read a single review online and convinced myself the headphones I already owned were not, in fact, good enough. There was, apparently, a slight smearing in the upper bass. I had not noticed this slight smearing. I had not been looking for slight smearing. But now I knew about it, and there was no going back.

The replacement pair arrived in a box that felt suspiciously fancy for a thing you put on your head. They sounded different. Possibly better. Definitely different. That was enough.

There is a precise moment in every audiophile’s life when they buy their first standalone DAC and then stand in their kitchen, holding it, wondering what has happened to them.

Mine arrived on a Tuesday. I plugged it in. I listened to the same song I had listened to a hundred times. I told myself, with absolute conviction, that I could hear more space around the cymbals. I still don’t know if I could.

By the time I had three pairs of headphones, two DACs, an amp I did not strictly need, and a small bag of cables I could not identify, I had to admit something had gone wrong.

Nobody decides to start collecting audio gear. You buy one thing. Then you buy a thing for that thing. Then you buy a thing for the thing you bought for the thing. Eventually you look around your office and realise you own more headphone stands than houseplants.

The realisation, when it finally arrived, was not what I expected. It was not that the gear was a waste of money. It was that the gear had been beside the point all along.

What I had actually been buying, in every box and every upgrade, was a small chance of a particular feeling — the one where a record you have loved for years suddenly opens up and gives you something new. The gear is just the lottery ticket.

I started The Reluctant Audiophile because I was tired of audio sites that pretended this hobby is entirely serious, entirely rational, and entirely about measurements.

It isn’t. It is funny, and ridiculous, and occasionally transcendent, and it deserves to be written about honestly. This is a site by someone who fell into the hobby by accident and is now trying to be useful to the next person who does.

If that’s you — welcome. You’re going to spend more money than you planned. You’re also going to have a brilliant time.