Once a legitimate blog. Now just a collection of memes 'n menz.
I don't know if anyone out there needs this, but I was unable to locate an electronic version anywhere, so I had to buy an original paper paper copy and scan it. I uploaded a .pdf of the entire thing to hifiengine to share with the world, but not everyone has access to that site.
…and early 00's, Sony had their Discman shit down to an art. It's really too bad the whole product line died only a couple years later with the advent of the iPod because it really is amazing technology.
Yeah, the Discman cases went all plastic, but everything was now consolidated onto a single circuit board, a definite improvement in terms of serviceability. Remove four screws from the bottom and the top/tray pops right off…unlike my beloved D-10 which has two double-sided circuit boards linked by a ribbon cable, multiple wire connects, and is much more complicated:
Or this, my original D-7 from 1986 with a belt-drive spindle motor. And look at that laser transport!
Still a feat of miniaturization and engineering considering that full-size CD decks only came on the scene a few years earlier.
Remember…obsessed.
Yeah, I brought it—the one pulled out of storage a few weeks ago—to work. When my supe saw it sitting on my desk, he pointed and said, "Oh my god…is that a Discman?!" like it was some newly unearthed relic. (Which, I suppose it honestly is these days.) This of course led into a long, refreshing non-work related discussion about why I've gone back to listening to CDs, the price of vinyl, the general need for physical media in our lives, and the never-ending greed of the music industry.
He told me he'd be all over physical media again if it weren't for the fact he had small children and an even smaller house. What one had to do with the other—or in fact how either one prevented him from owning physical media, especially CDs— escaped me, but I just did what I so often do around the office: I smiled an nodded.
But I gotta tell you, when I'm plugged in and some Japanese jazz or 70s disco is spinning away, it really does wonders for my attitude. And it's even different from just playing tunes from my laptop into my AirPods. There's something about the physicality of the process that just seems more—intimate—and puts a smile on my face.
Am I obsessed? I'm a Gemini; of course I am. I get obsessed with whatever shiny object captures my attention at any given time for a while and then I move on. I expect the same thing to happen here, but it may take a while. (I mean, look at how long my vinyl obsession lasted—decades!) I dropped $35 on eBay last night for yet another model Discman; this one more contemporary to either this D-171 or my all-metal 80s era D-10. The one I bought last night has anti-skip protection—"G-Force" something or other that neither the D-171 or the D-10 had—so I suspect this will be my daily driver for in-office use going forward even though the D-10 will remain my ultimate hi-fi desk mate at home where it's much less likely to get jostled. It will at least make those three days a week when I have to physically be present at HQ much more enjoyable.
I remember that I had one jacket whose pockets were large enough to accommodate my Discman back in the day. And it was still a struggle to get it in.
That's what she said!
Was it worth it?
The Good
The sound quality of this D-10 is absolutely amazing. I can't get over how much better it sounds over my late 90s D-171 that I pulled out of storage a few weeks ago. While I can't do any direct A-B comparisons, just transferring a CD from the D-10 to the D-171 sounds as if I've stuffed cotton in my ears. I hooked the D-10 into my main stereo system last night via the line out jack on the back of the unit, and while it didn't sound as good as my modern Yamaha deck, it was certainly nothing to sneeze at.
The build quality is top-notch. As I wrote before, it sports a solid metal case throughout—which was the norm from Sony in 1987. I consider the visual design of the player itself to be one of the company's best, rivaled only by the previous D-7.
(As an aside, I owned a D-7 prior to getting the D-10 in 1987. It too was a fine player, and in fact I'm not sure why I ended up ditching it and getting the D-10, other than the allure of "new, thinner, lighter, shinier" thing. As I wrote previously one or the other of the units—perhaps both, it's been over 35 years now and my memory fails me in these details—had a notoriously wonky headphone jack that required multiple re-soldering jobs on my part to keep it working. That might've been the reason I replaced it with the D-10 if indeed the D-7 was the headphone jack culprit and not the D-10.)
The Bad
Cosmetically the player has its fair share of scuffs and scratches. Not unexpected considering it's age—and I doubt that if I somehow kept my original unit after all these years it would look any better. The scuffs and scratches tend to leap out in photos, but in real life you can't even see them unless you specifically go looking.
When the laser is slewing back and forth while manually selecting tracks (or when the disc ends and it returns to its resting position) it's loud. I don't remember if my original unit was this loud, but I suspect it was. My D-171 is nearly as noisy when performing the same tasks, so I don't think it's a matter of lubrication or anything, as I know this machine was lubed as part of it's refurb. I suspect it's because we've grown so inured to silent devices that provide instant access to our music over the last couple decades we've forgotten how things used to be—and which we were completely fine with at the time.
I've noticed the unit does struggle with certain disks, specifically the "Premium Series" remastered disco albums that I've featured in previous posts. They play, but a lot of audible distortion shows up almost immediately. The discs I have trouble with—as much as I love them—are of…questionable…pedigree, so that may explain a lot of it. With discs from reputable mainstream and indie labels, I haven't had the issue. (They occasionally skip a bit on my D-171, but they play flawlessly on my Yamaha deck.)
The Ugly
As I wrote before, there is absolutely no skip-protection on the D-10.
When this unit came out, The feature hadn't been invented yet (or the cost of implementing it was prohibitive) and it seems all you have to do is sneeze in its general direction and it will jitter and skip. I don't remember my original one being so sensitive but if it was, I wonder how I actually lugged it around San Francisco in my backpack while listening on my daily commute, unless—like the slewing noise—this was just something that was an accepted part of the new technology. But like I said, since it's going to live on my desk and not get used while moving around, this is a moot point…as long as I don't inadvertently bump it! (To its credit, it does recover almost instantly.)
Conclusion
Was it worth it? All things considered, I'm honestly torn between "meh" and "fuck yes!" The one thing that is certain is that I plan on enjoying the hell out of it for years to come, if just for the sound quality alone. I even checked with the guy I bought it from (whose advocation actually seems to be repairing these vintage Discmans) to ask if I can send it back to him for any future repairs, and he said yes. All I have to do is cover the shipping. And he's even someone who enjoys talking shop…
Nostalgia is a part of getting old, right?
The Sony D-10 was the first second portable CD player I owned. (The first was a D-7, and let me tell you that digging up that model number numerous trips to the dusty memory banks in my head, not to mention copious Google searches until I stumbled upon it.) Bought new in 1986 from Jerry's Audio (now a mere shell of it's former self) in Tucson, it went everywhere with me even though this was several years before anti-skip technology and it did tend to lose its mind when jostled too hard. Even without that tech, it still worked surprisingly well when casually walking, but anything more strenuous would send it into a tailspin. This basically relegated it to desk use at work while I was busy creating architectural drawings.
And it wasn't cheap—somewhere north of $300 ($850 in 2024 dollars) as I remember. But damn, it was awesome—and in my mind totally worth it.CDs were still relatively new and just beginning to catch on so was the tech. The unit itself was also heavy; no cheap molded plastic case here; solid metal all the way. It came with a custom rechargeable battery the size of a standard CD case that clipped on the bottom of the device and made connection via spring-loaded gold contacts. Chef's kiss.
As the years progressed, the only thing that proved problematic was the headphone jack. (Kind of an important part, when you think about it, and in all honesty I may be confusing this with the D-7.) The only thing that kept it in place was the jack's soldered electrical connection to the circuit board and with the constant jiggling of the headphones through ordinary use, they'd often crack from the strain and come loose. I don't remember how many times I removed the bottom cover to resolder those joints during ownership. I even shelled out the bucks for the optional remote control and pop-in infrared receiver since I did have it connected to my main stereo more often than not.
I don't remember the circumstances under which I finally let it go, but whenever I see one on eBay these days it brings a tear to my eye and I toy with the idea of replacing it, even with it's known limitations. Unfortunately, fully four fifths of the units up for sale at any given time are marked as "not working/parts only" and those that are working—or god forbid have been properly refurbished—are priced higher than I'm willing to pay for nostalgia's sake. So I admire them from afar and simply enjoy my much more contemporary vintage D-171 that I bought in the late 90s.
And it explains so much if you really think about it…
I've had only one friend in my life who appreciated Philip Glass as much as I do. Sadly, he exited the planet during the horrific 90s, and I still miss him to this day. Wherever you are David, I hope you're enjoying Glass' music at angelic volume.