I still long for the audio tech I grew up on.
My sound system was always a piecemeal setup obtained through a series of low-rent thrift shops, shady garage sales and, sadly, broken equipment set by the curb for big-trash-pickup day.
A busted Kenwood speaker here, a clearance-priced Emerson tape deck there, or an illicit Sanyo receiver with the serial number filed off—salvaged stereo gear has always been one of my life’s obsessions. Of course, those goods rarely survived more than a few weeks of constant play, and eventually I invested in a middle-grade record player and decent bookshelf speakers.
But once I stepped inside JB’s Analog, 5850 NW 50th Street, those well-worn memories came flooding back.
Like a cracking vintage hi-fi store from the glorious 70s, the independently owned JB’s Analog transports any aural fan to a new vintage world, offering everything from reel-to-reel tapes to original Atari game consoles, as well as a few surprises I didn’t count on.
Walking through the well-maintained and well-organized shop, obviously the speakers are the most eye-catching.
The selection ranges from the small, quieter bookcase speakers to grandiose, Spinal Tap-esque testaments to hard-rocking sound that shakes the whole house—man, I would have a pair of those if I lived in a house instead of an apartment!
Beyond the speakers was a shelf of ancient receivers ready to complete any vintage sound system. Looking over the impressive selection, I remembered one I had cobbled together from local neighborhood garage sales in the summer, including a ramshackle late 70s Pioneer that I truly loved and, sadly, now miss.
But, as I soon learned, there was so much more than amps and receivers from the glory days.
Unexpectedly, there were antique flashbulb cameras that were from before my time, an assortment of cordial business phones and intercoms, and a whole heap of citizens band radios—or as they were commonly referred to, CBs—which I know I would have been into in the 70s.
As I was exploring all the equipment and getting handsy with the merchandise, I recalled the sonorous tone of a scratchy 45 of Run-DMC and Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way,” which I played constantly when I was around nine or ten years old, and how that record felt both in my hands and in my ears.
Humming the chorus to myself as I was about to leave, that’s when I noticed the wall of cassette tapes—real audio cassette tapes, just like the ones I slobbered over in the 90s—and the selection was incredible.
I spotted a whole armload of Aerosmith tapes, just like the ones I had, including Permanent Vacation, Pump, and Get a Grip. The rush of nostalgia took me over, and I decided on the spot to purchase an antique Walkman and a couple of tapes, all at stupid bargain-basement prices.
I hadn’t thought about cassettes for years, believing they belonged to a long-gone adolescence I could only remember fondly. After all, they’re obsolete technology in this high-speed digital world of zeros and ones.
But JB’s Analog allowed me to rediscover this “lost” media from thirty or so years ago—and the long-lost equipment needed to play it. The Walkman may be a novelty, but my return to analog sound won’t end there.
When I move to my new house, you better believe I’ll be buying a few boss vintage speakers from JB’s and turning that music up until my eardrums bleed.
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Follow Louis Fowler on Instagram at @louisfowler78.
