In high school, I was really enthralled by the idea of 'audiophile' gear. I had never encountered high-end audio equipment, especially equipment held in high regard by enthusiasts, and the idea of having a genuinely transcendent experience with a set of respectable cans did not seem absurd to me. After all, the language used in headphone reviews really do suggest that once you go big, you can never go back. Take, for example, this excerpt of a review for the iconic Sennheiser 6XX, a pair of headphones lauded for their outstanding price-to-performance.
The tuning is really good with the reference mindset considered. This is all the more valid from ~100 Hz onward, with the upper bass to lower mids effectively a continuous transition. I could swim in the range the mids are given and not run out of room. This is where some of the speaker-like sound comparisons come up, since the HD 6XX can resolve so much when it comes to male vocals and most instruments that this alone makes it worth considering for monitoring.
If you ask me, this is a real triumph of language. The effort to convert subjective experience into an objective truth stimulates my curiosity like nothing else. The clinical terminology, even if its true meaning eludes me, creates tension that is not resolved but heightened by the odd metaphor. It all hints towards a sensory experience that is richer than I have ever known - an experience that also just so happens to be accessible with a pair of $200 headphones.
When I first uncovered this scene all I had was a pair of generic wireless earbuds that my dad had received as a promotional freebie from a corporate event and subsequently handed to me. I did my research and compiled a shortlist of must-have gear, a small assortment of products that supposedly punched well above their price point. A considerable chunk of the $9.25 an hour (before tax mind you) I earned as a dishwasher funded this acquisition campaign.
My real revelation was the first generation AirPod Pros. While definitely not an enthusiast product, the sound was impressively clear with surprisingly punchy bass that was really enjoyable to listen to. More than that, the introduction of transparency mode genuinely changed the way I used headphones. They were no longer barriers to attuning to the environment meaning that I could wear them all day if I wished.
So, above my humble handful of enthusiast-grade IEMs and headphones, I was reaching for the AirPods more often than not. Unfortunately, my mind was never blown by the equipment I had so I learned two things:
- Convenience matters and often trumps quality
- 'Enthusiast-Grade' means an item is well into the realm of diminishing returns.
Those AirPods served me well for years until I began to sour on them come my second year of University. I was sensitized to the ubiquity of AirPods as they completed the full adoption cycle from statement piece to everyday essential. It was not uncommon to see students around campus who wore theirs from sun-up to sun-down, it was an ambient artifact that both user and observer paid little mind to.
If there was something to take away from my foray into the world of audiophiles, it was the delight of putting time aside to listen to music. I had a pair of HIFIMAN HE-4XXs which had earcups the size of saucers and a metal headband that threatened to dent the soft flesh on your scalp if you left it on too long. It was always an occasion to whip those out. AirPods were the opposite, making music consumption unobtrusive and benign.
When in public and navigating social spaces, there is certainly value in being unobtrusive. But the AirPods felt stealthy, their low profile obscuring the fact that the wearer is currently listening to music. I imagine you have also experienced talking to an earbud user who you expected to be attentive. Perhaps you have been the earbud user too. I know I've seen both sides.
In my search for an intentional yet pedestrian audio kit, the wired Apple EarPods seemed to be the obvious choice. From second year onwards, I was a devotee. Here's what I liked about it:
- The lack of eartips meant you were not isolated from what was going on around you - an analog transparency mode.
- The audio quality, despite the poor seal, was good enough.
- It was an intuitive social cue - if I had them in, I was listening to music. People knew to greet me so I could take them out before having a conversation. Even better, I could also effectively ignore campus event promoters.
- They are cheap, significantly decreasing the stress of losing them.
- There is no bluetooth management when switching from my phone to my laptop.
Over the last year, many people have also made the switch from wireless to wired. Fashion trends have been a significant motivator as loose wires are now a statement piece against the universality of bluetooth options. Say what you will about the fashion cycle, I think the fact that this is a fixation indicates the public is developing feature fatigue. They are not interested in live translation, multi-device connect, and contest the value of removing the cable in the first place.
This mirrors a broader conversation about intentionality in design of consumer products that has been playing out over the smartphone era. The resurgence of disposable cameras, movie theaters, and e-readers show that people are prioritizing clear and directed motivations for products despite having access to all of these operations already accessible in their pocket. After decades of do-it-all devices, the delight of tactile and purpose-driven solutions have become self-explanatory.
Here is where you will find the appeal of Apple EarPods with Remote and Mic. It is unapologetically intentional, with every feature being visually present on the peripheral itself. If you were looking for a resolution to my search for the best audio experience, I can confidently say that I feel most fondly towards the EarPods. The joy of functional minimalism is unmatched by any bells and whistles I have encountered; influencing, if not informing, my design philosophy.