I have been slowly bringing my late father’s old stereo system back to life. What began as a simple attempt to play some old records turned into an unexpected struggle with a tiny stylus. In the end, it was my wife—more persistent and mechanically minded than I am—who solved the problem. And when the music finally began to play, something else came back with it: a piece of the Showa era we once knew.
I have been slowly bringing my late father’s stereo system back to life.
Once I connected everything, the cassette deck worked right away, but getting the record player going was much more difficult because I first had to find a replacement stylus.
I had been thinking of taking the cartridge head to Tower Records in Shibuya and asking someone there to take a look at it. But the days went by without my managing to stop there on my way home, and eventually my wife lost patience with me and ordered a stylus online.
So far, so good.
But when I finally tried to fit the new stylus into the cartridge head, it simply would not go in.
The stylus seemed to be exactly the same size as the opening, and I had no idea what to do.
After consulting AI, I came to suspect that the piece of metal inside the opening might be part of the old stylus left behind. I tried to pull it out, but that did not work either.
I was beginning to think I had reached a dead end.
Then yesterday, my wife sent me a video on LINE saying, “It finally works.”
At first, I had no idea what she meant.
It turned out that she had taken the cartridge head to our local Nojima electronics store. They managed to fit the stylus into it and even confirmed that it produced sound.
Apparently, the opening had narrowed over the years as the material aged, so they widened it enough for the stylus to fit.
My wife belonged to a photography club when she was a student, and perhaps that explains why she has always been rather mechanically minded.
She is also very good at knowing when to ask someone else for help, and these days she has become quite adept at using AI as well.
This time, too, she tackled the problem far more enthusiastically than I did and finally solved it.
I was truly grateful.
To show my appreciation, I chose one of her favorites, ABBA, as the first record to play.
As I lowered the stylus onto the record, the warm, gentle sound of vinyl was soothing to my ears.
At last, our Showa days had come back to us.
As ABBA played, I looked through the record jackets I had kept all these years, refusing to sell them even when I was short of spending money.
The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Foreigner, Kiss, YMO—so many classic albums had been sleeping there.
They are all classics from the Showa era, yet none of them seems to have lost its shine.
It would be a shame not to listen to them again, little by little.
Come to think of it, LPs were fairly expensive in those days.
Japanese pressings cost around 2,500 yen, while imported records sold at places like Cisco and Disk Union in Shibuya were around 2,000 yen.
That was quite a lot of money at the time.
I wonder how much records cost these days.
I think I will go and have a look sometime.
There is, however, one problem.
I now have trouble seeing exactly where to lower the stylus onto the record.
The Showa era has come back—but somewhere along the way, it seems my eyesight has left me behind.
The Showa era has come back—but my younger eyes have not.
*The Showa era (1926–1989) was a period of dramatic change in Japan, and for my generation, it is filled with memories of our younger days.
・・・
bring something back to life — 使われなくなったものを再び使えるようにする。「生き返らせる」という比喩表現。
lose patience with someone — 人がなかなか行動しないので「しびれを切らす」「業を煮やす」。
reach a dead end — 行き詰まる、万事休すの状態になる。
mechanically minded — 機械や道具の扱いが得意な、メカに強い。
be adept at — 〜が上手である、巧みに扱える。
show my appreciation — 感謝の気持ちを示す。
Japanese pressing — 日本国内でプレス・製造されたレコード。「国内盤」。
leave someone behind — 人を置き去りにする。最後の一文では、昭和は戻ってきたのに若い頃の視力だけは戻らなかった、というユーモアを込めた表現。
#VinylRecords #ShowaEra #VintageAudio #ABBA #MusicMemories #Kamakura #JapanesePathologist


















