Gramophone Dreams

Empire 108
Empire Scientific's 108 Stereo–Mono moving magnet cartridge puts out 8mV, and with it in my system, Julie London's Julie Is Her Name (Liberty LRP 3006) sounded super-vivid and perfectly period correct: Julie sounded like she did coming out of my parents' Columbia console in 1958. When I played E. Power Biggs's Greatest Hits (Columbia MS 7269), the same thing happened. When I played Patsy Cline singing "Heartaches" (Decca 45 31429), it sounded like Patsy sounded coming out of a juke box.

Feeding the Linear Tube Audio Z10e integrated amplifier, the Empire 108 made my Falcon LS3/5a's sound like the Altec 604Es that I gave to Art Dudley. A simple cartridge change, from a sleek modern Dynavector XX2A moving coil with a line contact stylus to a midcentury Empire 108 with a 0.7mil conical stylus, triggered tidal waves of memories and associations. The experience made me wonder, what exactly is accuracy?

Seeking answers, I played Stravinsky's L'Oiseau de feu from the La Voix de son maiître LP (2 C069-02070). I've known this 1970 recording for decades, and the Dynavector XX2A played it with "I could hear every violin" string textures. My Sonic Labs' Ultra Eminent Ex and EMT's JSD6 moving coils played this dead-quiet French pressing with "I could hear the insides of the cellos" clarity. Don't laugh: The Empire 108 moving magnet delivered more immediacy and more life-like instrumental tones. It played this music bigger and bolder, though with less empty space than a modern moving coil.

Compared to Dynavector's XX2A, the Empire 108 gelled the violins together, but this slight blurring did not read as out of focus or as a loss of detail. It read as a different palette of textures that put tone color front and center. Is it possible that the Dynavector is exaggerating detail?

It's logical to assume that when it's properly aligned, a stylus with a profile that mimics the cutter head should retrieve more groove data and so sound more complete and realistic than the Empire's 0.7mil conical, but listening to European pressings of classical orchestra music with the Empire 108 caused me to question that assumption.

The 108's chief good trait was its high reality factor. The 108 made bass that sounded '56 Buick solid. Punch and drive were attention-grabbing. This cartridge played dub and reggae as I'm certain it was meant to be heard. Seven-inch Fats Domino and Chuck Berry 45s were a Greek poet's revelation that could not be improved with a $10k cartridge.

I collect and store my discs by label, and what the Empire 108 did that I appreciated most was expose the distinct character of each label's house sound. This was especially true with American labels, where regional differences (Atlantic, Chess, Motown, etc.) were exposed and emphasized. Records sounded like they did on the radio. Jazz from the '50s on American labels came through more vital and comprehensible. Melodies jumped out like they do in person. Plucked bass was a carnal pleasure. Bleating saxes exhibited high-pressure physicality, as they should.

If you collect jazz records pressed before 1970, this cartridge will provide an authentic view of how real and immediate these discs are capable of sounding. You'll hear them as their producers heard them. I call that accuracy.

I'm not sure why the 108 exhibited these traits, but I wondered if its reality factor might be related to how records were cut before the mid-'60s, with a 15° VTA, same as the stylus on the 108. Beginning in the '70s, LPs and cartridges were made with VTAs between 20° and 23°—too different to play early microgrooves in a period-correct manner.

Shure M3D
Next, I pulled out a vintage cartridge I own. In 1958, the Shure Radio Company introduced "the M3D Stereo Dynetic cartridge," which Shure's ads described as "the world's first moving magnet stereo cartridge" (footnote 5). The M3D weighs 8.5gm and puts out 7.8mV. It uses a conical stylus and has a specified VTF of 3–6gm. Designwise, its curvy, black Bakelite body reads as midcentury modern. Its bold gold lettering makes it look expensive. At $45, it was the flagship of the Shure lineup, followed by the $24 M7D. Despite the hefty price, it was a popular stereo cartridge when it came out.

My M3D arrived attached to the tonearm on the Lenco L75 turntable I bought from a friend of Michael Trei who lives in Brooklyn. Right out of the original Lenco box, I was awestruck by the M3D's midrange clarity, which felt more sharp-focused than I imagined any 1960s record player could muster. I knew Michael had done a tune-up on this lightly used deck and that during that tune-up he had installed a "replacement" stylus he bought from LP Gear. I remember he said it cost $106.

I put the M3D on a Jelco headshell attached to a Sorane SL-1.2 tonearm mounted on a Dr. Feickert Blackbird turntable. Using the Feickert protractor, I set it to a Stevenson alignment. I set VTF at a low 1.5gm then absentmindedly played a record at that setting. To my surprise, it sounded detailed, airy, and transparent, and it tracked flawlessly (footnote 6). I do not normally associate "airy and transparent" with 1960s moving magnets. Curiosity and disbelief forced me to up the tracking force to 2gm and play the same massed-string music I had played with the 108: Stravinsky's L'Oiseau de feu. Now it sounded clear and explicit like a fancy moving coil. I could not figure out why.

I started riddling Trei with dumb questions. "So, Michael, how can this $106 Jico stylus make the M3D sound so detailed and detailed and transparent?" His answer: "It's not a Jico stylus, it's a Pfanstieh." I asked if he was sure. "It came in a Pfanstiehl box," he said. I had never heard of Pfanstiehl, so I asked Michael to send me a link (footnote 7). I clicked on it, scrolled down, and saw this: "Finest quality N3D stylus specified for Shure M3D cartridge Special Vivid Line Contact diamond tip for exceptional fidelity."

Turns out my M3D "replacement stylus" was not a standard Jico; it was a "Special Vivid Line Contact diamond." I laughed out loud when I discovered this because it explained everything. You see, if you buy a used moving magnet on eBay, chances are you will need a new stylus. Fortunately, there is a wide range of choices, from Jico, LP Gear, and others. I recommend trying several different ones.

With Pfanstiehl's N3D line contact stylus, the M3D's bass was less forward and forceful than it was with the 108,but it blended smoothly with the Shure's hyperdetailed midrange. This 1958 moving magnet came across as supertransparent, fast, and superbly balanced, but maybe a touch rolled off in the treble. Its midrange felt naturally transparent and maximally resolved, almost electrostatic.

If you are used to modern cartridges, which deliver 30–35dB of channel separation, you will find Shure's specified >20dB channel separation, which was state of the art in 1960, channel-blended. This reduction in channel separation had an upside: It minimized the annoyance of exaggerated stereo effects used in early stereo recordings. It was fun to realize that Rudy Van Gelder and all those Blue Note customers must have heard his recordings like this, with only 20dB of separation—not 30dB like we hear today.

Collecting vintage cartridges and experimenting with styli, wires, headshells, and phono stages is grassroots DIY audio, a field-proven antidote to the fantasy-priced mainstream. On eBay, a used Shure M3D costs about $150 plus $106 for a new stylus, and I swear to you now, this combo sounded more like a Lyra or My Sonic Lab than any Shure I ever used previously.

A further "period correct" strategy is to run your M3D into the grid of a smooth-plate Telefunken 12AX7. I did that with the Sun Valley SV EQ1616D phono equalizer. If you combine period-matched tube rolling with playing records with cartridges from the same era as the recording you'll be hearing your records as the artists who made them heard them.

Shure SC35C
Shure's M3D with the Pfanstiehl stylus played discs with audiophile-level finesse and transparency. This made me wonder how it might compare to the Shure SC35C I reviewed in Gramophone Dreams #3. The SC35 was introduced in 1973 and stayed in production until 2018. Originally sold as a "broadcast" cartridge to radio stations, the SC35C is now marketed as a deejay cartridge "that won't skip." Its spherical stylus tracks at 3–5gm, and its last list price was $75. I bought mine new in 2014 for $35. Today, LP Gear sells new old stock SC35Cs for $157.

If you just bought your first turntable, I recommend you try this cartridge. It's rugged, easy to install, and supermusical. It tracks like a hound and presents recordings with four-star authority and drive. It plays all genres of music in a satisfying manner. Like the M3D, the SC35C specifies channel separation as >20dB. You get that channel blending that makes early stereo better than tolerable. You do not get Empire 108 tone or my M3D's line-contact transparency.

I like this cartridge because it's a solid performer. But compared to that retipped M3D, the SC35C sounds bright, thick, and a little blunt.

Nagaoka MP-200
I wanted to compare the Empire 108 and Shure M3D to a modern moving magnet, so I played the abovementioned antique records with the "homebrew" new-production Nagaoka MP-200 I reviewed in Gramophone Dreams #87

The MP-200 is a moving magnet that uses a nude "superfine elliptical diamond," and it sounded not at all like the Empire 108. But! When I played the new Nagaoka through the Kitsuné KTE LCR-1 phono stage, it sounded a lot like the retipped Shure M3D through the same LCR pre. The MP-200 was less vivid and tactile than the M3D but smoother and more extended in the top octaves. I'm glad I own both.

In sum
What I'm describing here are audio adventures for anybody with more imagination than cash. This is not nostalgia. It has nothing to do with any form of yearning or low-level sentiment. It is an empirical, intellectual, and philosophical searching for authentic human culture. It's about hearing our records as their producers heard them.

My apartment building is filled with pretty 20-somethings that attend fancy local colleges. Most of them have vintage Technics or Thorens turntables, a record collection, and a film camera. They buy more LPs than I do, frequent more used record stores, and take classes in shooting pictures and developing film. They hang their silver gelatin prints on their walls in frames and throw deejay parties that last all night. They don't read audio magazines because, you know, why would they?

A few of my pals who own five-figure moving coils are now buying 1950s and '60s moving magnets for listening fun and so they can invite their non-audiophile friends over and play old jazz records in a period-correct manner. It's not an audiophile thing, because everybody knows what real sounds like.

Footnote 5: See service.shure.com/s/article/brief-history-of-shure-phonograph-cartridges. Remarkably, Shure also maintains a link to a pdf of the owner's guide for the M3D, downloadable at pubs.shure.com/guide/m3d/en-us.

Footnote 6: It is common for early phono cartridges to track well at lower tracking-force settings than originally specified; those early tracking recommendations assumed heavier tonearms than are typically encountered today. One should never attempt a heavier tracking force, however.—Jim Austin

Footnote 7: See lpgear.com/product/SHSM0003D.html.: