PASSING THE BATON

The life of a music lover can be a lonely one. We often see photos of areas in homes where the real music lives, usually bare, removing anything that may “affect the sound”, with exactly one chair in the sweet spot. Now I do not want to come across as judgemental. If this is your situation and you enjoy your music room where you have a free reign and the WAF rule does not apply, then great for you.

However, this may not be an ideal situation, and it is not the point of my writing.

In my time in the hi-fi sector, I got to know individuals who pursued their passion, whether as importers, resellers, designers, manufacturers, or just simply those who enjoy it. Many of those have gone on to other places, feeding the daisies. The problem is what happens to whatever they leave behind. I have heard horror stories of mostly wives walking away from the graveyard only to be greeted by some who are seeing an opportunity for a quick buck and to enrich themselves through unrealistically low “deals”.

Let’s be realistic here. How many wives know what their husbands are doing, what they make or sell, and most importantly, what it is worth? Most will only be to glad to close the door on a large chapter of their lives where they were mostly excluded, most likely because they were never involved with their spouse’s passion.

A case in point is a huge collection of classical music I was given the other day. The husband was a fanatical collector, and judging from the pristine condition of the records, was absolutely in love with what he had. But he passed away and the family did not want anything to do with what was his passion. They were ready to chuck away about 120 box sets and some 60 individual albums until they heard that I collect records. I was given the lot, on condition that I take everything. I did, but I really do not have the space to keep the collection. As such, it is for sale. Contact me for further details.

Long before this, I ensured that it would never happen to me. My wife does not really mind what I have in our upstairs living room. She will enjoy an occasional listening to a favourite album; nothing more. Gradually though, I got my son involved. For many years he did not really care much for my hobby either, maybe because I was away from home so often, working overseas. On my return I gradually started sharing with him why I enjoy my stereo system, vinyl records, and collection of top-quality digital products. I took him to a vinyl fair, and he “found” a sealed 180 gram reissue of Cat Stevens’ Tea for the Tillerman, paid for it, and gave it to me as a birthday gift. This somehow lit a spark and today he is the one who buys more vinyl records than I do. As he says, he buys records for the covers, not for how they sound. I can live with this. Luckily some of the best music also comes in memorable covers.

One day a few months ago, I asked him that if he were ever to buy a turntable, what model he would consider. Thinking that a 30-year-old would probably go for a modern looking Rega, Pro-ject, or even a Technics, his answer surprised me: I want nothing more than your turntable. Now I have a Linn Sondek LP12, which is about 44 years old. Yet my son says that this turntable just looks so good, he would not consider anything else. My prayers have been answered. I can let go, and all of my gear is in good hands. My son has access to my Mac and knows where every document is, including my catalogue of vinyl records and what I believe that are worth, if ever they are to be sold. He is adamant that nothing will be sold.

I have taught him how to use the turntable (including paying for what he breaks), store the records properly, what to look for when buying vinyl and not just for the cover, and why some records are worth what they are. In December 2025 I was looking online at a pre-owned copy of Wish You Were Here, a 1982 CBS Mastersound half-speed mastered pressing, the one with the equalisation fix (HC 43453). I had two of them in the past.

The cost? R1500.00. My son was standing just behind me. The next moment a familiar “ping” came through on my mobile phone. My son had transferred the funds to my account so that I could place the order. Now he is the owner of a very highly prized pressing of this great Pink Floyd album. He understands the quality of the music as well as the value of the pressing. I am a bit jealous that my copy of the same album is “only” the 2011 reissue. So far though, what used to be “my” collection of vinyl records has become “our” collection. My LP12 is now our turntable. He also financed a huge upgrade on the unit, a Dewaudio Starmap bottom plate. I am a lucky dad.

What is the lesson here? If you do not want to see a lifetime of investing in your hobby land up in the wrong hands or the waste bin once you have passed on, get someone interested in it and pass on the baton. My son and I are best buddies and have always lived in one skin. Getting him interested and involved has not only ensured the hobby continues, but strengthens our bond. He may be a grownup, but he is still my son.

He is learning to appreciate a hobby that many others just selfishly keep to themselves and deny others the enjoyment of, to their detriment.

Andries Oberholzer