Words and photos by Rafe Arnott. Image above: Clint Moroz kicks back at Space Lab in Vancouver, Canada.
Clint Moroz curates an exquisite selection of high fidelity’s most coveted jewels which are embedded – along with a cultural trove of gems spanning at least two centuries – in the slightly askew crown worn by vintage shop Space Lab, the reigning champ of Canadian West Coast cultural treasure. A repository of sought-after patina from whatever decade jibes with your taste, Space Lab is a physical manifestation of an aesthetic gestalt built by Moroz over the past 15 years. Be it a pair of Altec Voice of the Theatre A7 horn loudspeakers, or Japanese Kokeshi wooden idols – and everything in between – entrance into Space Lab presents an opportunity to own pieces imbued with not only historical significance, but also highly-coveted design and artistic impact.
The business is separated into two locations in downtown Vancouver, Canada – one a storefront and the other currently a warehouse. With the pandemic came time for Moroz to reflect on life and goals. Along with the changing face of the film industry due to Covid-19 (a not insignificant slice of Space Lab’s business), the idea to implement a more laid back operation has gained traction with Moroz. “Shutdown really forced me to think about what I want the shop to look like and my life in general… Instead of focusing on film studio interaction I would like to go back to individual interaction.” Moroz said the operation used to be more about socializing, and providing a space for like-minded people to come together and riff. “I realized I no longer wanted what I had [catering to film/TV needs], and wanted to return to what I used to have, but with the wisdom of hindsight.” Both the warehouse and storefront are labyrinthine in their layout, chock-a-block with Harry Potteresque floor-to-ceiling shelves, cabinets, tables – every available surface – overflowing with physical objects of endless variety; books, magazines, typewriters, pottery, chinaware, paintings, furniture of all types, signage, posters, dentist chairs, medical instrumentation, lighting, rugs (to name but a few of the genres of vintage collectibles housed therein), and of course something a bit closer to the heart of Moroz… LP records, hi-fi components and loudspeakers.
A longtime music lover, Moroz has made helping newcomers navigate the muddy waters of getting into vintage high fidelity a priority for many years. Hi-fi is a hobby known for its share of dismissive sales people, Space Lab takes the completely opposite approach; it nourishes the ignorant with helpful, practical knowledge and then stands behind its products – all used or vintage, thoroughly tested and repaired beforehand – with a warranty and in-store repairs and refurbishment (some work is contracted out, depending on the complexity and type of issue). Many traditional hi-fi storefornts tend to want to move people out the door as soon as possible, not so with Space Lab, where staying and listening to various combinations of speakers, amplifiers/receivers and turntables is encouraged.
Megan Prediger is part of the Space Lab family and befriended the affable Moroz after meeting him in 2014. “I happened upon Clint’s shop around 2014, I was living just down the street and would often walk by, pop in and purchase things here and there. I have always been drawn to objects and furniture as a vessel for a story. While [the shop] is a vortex of curated art, culture, history, and high fidelity, it’s also in many ways a collection of stories. Clint is also a proverbial "well of knowledge.” Usually if I have a question, he can answer it quite readily. I often describe my job as "making order out of chaos.” We have such a large volume and breadth of stock that a lot of the job I do involves organizing, reorganizing, archiving. When it came to the hi-fi aspect of the business, Prediger was contemplative. “I feel a little silly saying that music is really important in my life, because I think in a way it comes across as a little cliché, only in the sense that I think music is fundamental for many people.” She added that, like much of the job, high fidelity is a window onto the previously unknown. "I would say the two most eye-opening things I’ve learned about vintage hi-fi since working with Clint are as follows: 1) The magic of good tubes, the warmth they create, is so wonderful. 2) The amp/speaker you are about to pick up is either surprisingly light, or it feels like you’re trying to pick up a neutron star.”
Photo above: Rooms of vintage receivers are readied for sale by experienced, dedicated, hi-fi techs.
Moroz, while Kleinian in many of his observable daily human interactions, is unfailingly humourous and happy to converse at length about any eventuality in art, design, culture, music, film, psychology or cryptocurrency. Often engaged in-person with several sellers or buyers a day while also constantly laughing into his mobile phone with parties unknown, I was nonetheless able to relax and spend time with him at both the shop and warehouse (where the “wall of speakers” and listening space are set up). Being led through warrens of subterranean rooms redolent with the smell of aged wood, leather, metal, plastic, rubber and paper… all of them full of turntables, receivers, amplifiers, cassette decks, CD players, compression-driver horns, woofers, speakers and cabinets, there is a sense of going back in time. You name a component (reel-to reel?), Moroz has it. But these are not the cast offs of some liquidation store, or Salvation Army (although Moroz has scored gold there), these are all sought after pieces of sonic art or high-fidelity workhorses from a bygone era when quality of construction and problem-free longevity were key vectors of industrial design, these are not orphans from the school of planned obsolescence.
Photo above: Moroz navigates the Space Lab warehouse with purpose. Right – Vintage valve radio testing equipment.
Moroz graciosuly spilt a large quantitiy of ink in answering many questions regarding the vintage hi-fi scene, which you will find below.
Resistor Mag: What’s the back story of Space Lab, could you talk about how the shop came to be?
Clint Moroz: “Sort of a multi-level answer. Coles Notes version, I used to work in construction management in Calgary. In 2003 after some life changes, I felt it would be a good idea to take a year or so and travel. When I came back to Canada I decided I had no interest in moving back to the snow and miserable winters, and accepted that Vancouver was as far east as I wanted to go, so here I stayed.
“In one of those cosmic flukes, I answered an ad on Craigslist for an apartment. After getting in and coordinating payments and such, the subject of my employment (or lack thereof) came up. Turns out my landlord's brother owned the biggest antique store in Western Canada and needed someone to manage his warehouse location, and develop his store’s online presence. Well, I got that job and managed that location for three years, which was long enough for me to decide I had a rough-enough idea I wanted to go out on my own. I went back to school, got a small loan and through the support of great friends, and a very welcoming neighbourhood I opened my own shop.
“The audio portion of my store is directly connected to my love of music and enthusiasm for vintage gear. That’s what the genesis was. What really encouraged me to develop it was a direct response to the horrible state of the second-hand audio situation in Vancouver. Miserable men who seemed to be throwbacks to the Visions, or Speaker City slicked-hair bullshit school of audio sales. No customer care, no interest in educating people, no love for the gear, music or customers. Then you have the new “audiophile” stores which frequently had staff who were the audio world version of Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons. The know it all, who really only knew specs and obscure measurements that even the most seasoned gear enthusiast would develop spontaneous narcolepsy from listening to. Both camps seemed to only be interested in sales not relationships. And both camps still don’t seem to want customers… that aspect hasn’t changed much.
"I would say the most important element in a home, aside from a proper bed, is a proper hi-fi system."
–Clint Moroz
Photo left: The McIntosh MC240 stereo amplifier sold from 1960-1969 for around $288 USD. It commands far greater sums today.
Clint Moroz: “There was so much gear everywhere you looked – garage sales, Craigslist, stuff left on a curb or in an alley. Once, while walking to work, I found a Voice Of Music 1428 in an alley. I took it to the shop, hooked it up to some Klipsch Heresy II (that I pushed home on my skateboard because a neighbour recycled them). The amp worked like a dream, pots were clean, and all tubes were humming. The Heresy pretty much sucked unless you were listening to opera or something that existed before drums were ever recorded (I digress), the point was, this was the tail end of Gearmageddon.
Turns out people had been cleaning out garages like this for years and I came on the scene at the tail end of that era. Considering my enthusiasm and the fact that gear was everywhere, I needed to develop the hi-fi end not only from altruism but sheer necessity. I was accumulating speakers and other audio at a level that would make someone question my mental health. So, I committed to be the counter to every audio store I had ever been in. From the commission-based Futureshop bros, to the look-down-their-nose audiophile nerds who would sell you speaker wire you could tow a car with, I would be the guy who didn’t try to sell you anything. I would set you on the path to understand what the fuss was about, and do it without making you feel like an idiot because you didn’t realize you can’t hook up speakers to a record player.”
Resistor Mag: Your approach with secondhand gear is unique, in fact, I hesitate to say that because really you're a curated, vintage hi-fi shop.
Clint Moroz: “I’ll take that as a compliment for sure, I’ve never thought about it in that context. I would say the most important element in a home, aside from a proper bed, is a proper hi-fi system. My approach is to present people with an understanding of the world they are stepping into when someone gives them a record collection, an old turntable – or if they simply want to get into vinyl. My goal is to generate an understanding that, first off, there is no wrong answer. If it sounds good to you, it is good, regardless of what a review written in 1978 says. Whether you’ve got $400 or $4,000 to spend, we can make something sexy sounding. Second, all things aren’t equal. It was a revelation to discover not every speaker sounds great paired with every amplifier. This is huge for many people. It can’t be stressed enough how revelatory this is for a 20-something couple who has never heard any combination of audio gear. It goes from “It’s all the same, right?” to “I can’t believe how much better the speaker on the right sounds vs. the one on the left!" Mind Blown. Success. We have converts to the temple of sound... Walk forth my neophytes and spread the word."
Photo above: Moroz laughing on the blower in the bowels of the storefront's basement.
Clint Moroz: “That’s my approach. To show people how amazing something can both sound and look in their world – not mathematically placed in a sonically sterile listening room. Just straightforward music-playing machines. I’ve had couples say to one another, “I’ll get a cab, take the system home and hook it up, you head to the record store and buy some records…” This experience is special for me, possibly even more meaningful for me than them. It creates relationships. Friends come in and chat and explore audio, people buy bedroom systems or upgrade, they buy wedding presents. They are comfortable to ask and never feel stupid – they feel encouraged and engaged. Something many of us have forgotten. They experience music in a way that is very often magical, which is something we should never forget. This hobby/obsession/madness/delusion we share is not about gear it’s about music, connecting to music, enriching your world. Staring out the window with a glass of (insert beverage of choice), watching the rain fall while listening to Kind of Blue, or rushing home after a concert with a group of friends and dropping the vinyl you just bought at the merch table on the turntable while still drunk and sweaty from the kick-ass show you just saw... In those instants nothing but the moment and the sound is important.”
Resistor Mag: Do you offer repairs/service on equipment as well?
Clint Moroz: “Yes we do. Partially as a result of some of the ridiculous garage repairman butchers out there, and partially for the straight-up necessity of needing to instil confidence when selling gear. What would separate me from someone on Craigslist? Warranty. To offer that I needed service access. Truly, it’s like the world of Mad Max out there in the audio repair landscape of Vancouver. I’m comfortable saying I spent way too much money and was ripped off on more than one occasion before I found the techs I work with now. Sadly, there are more hacks than actual techs around here. My turntable tech is a retired fellow named Andrew whom I met after he delivered a 'table to my house at midnight many years ago, we’ve been friends ever since. He has been working on turntables and providing basic service to amps, cassette decks and other gear since the ‘70s. He mounts and tests all cartridges, and makes sure any turntable that leaves the shop is skookum. At a higher level, such as recapping or deep diagnostics, I use Min Soo at Pure Sound in Burnaby, and provide a drop-off and pick-up service since it seems half the people in Vancouver simply don’t drive. We also have a speaker tech who does the basic service, but refer all major speaker repairs to Vancouver Audio Speaker Clinic. We have great success with this system. Things leave the shop ready to rock and if someone needs service we have those options.”Photos above: Left – A pair of ESS AMT await testing and cleaning at the storefront. Right – turntables, turntables, turntables.
Resistor Mag: What's the vintage hi-fi market all about?
Clint Moroz: “I need someone to elaborate on this question. To be serious though, I can’t think of another industry even close to the variety of opinions, ideas and straight-up complete misinformation as the vintage audio world. Maybe, maybe, the photography world can compare. What I can say is vintage hi-fi is truly an individual experience. Of course, there are camps and definite schools of enthusiasm. The tube camp, solid-state guys, receiver fans, big-power junkies, horn-loaded speakers, two-way aficionados, three-way proponents, electrostatic, belt drive only, direct drive, open air headphones, closed back… it goes on, and on, and on. This is one of the things I love about vintage audio. So many different opinions, so many different schools of thought or areas of interest. Best thing is that no one is wrong. Everyone thinks they are right, but none of them are. It’s gear before music. The most amazing thing, is all of those elements have overlap and fans from one camp creep into other camps. It’s awesome, and I doubt you will ever find two identical vintage setups. There is nothing like it because they are all talking about the same thing, but no two people are having the same experience. That is the most exciting aspect of the vintage hi-fi world.
Photo above: Moroz goes over plans for organizing several dozen boxes of ceramic items with Prediger at the warehouse.
Resistor Mag: Regular hi-fi is complicated enough and someone coming into it can be easily overwhelmed. Does vintage hi-fi take this up a level of complexity because of provenance/service/repair, or is it actually a more simple proposition?
Clint Moroz: “If you mean from a retail end, it’s basically the red-headed stepchild of the vintage/antique world. No dealers know anything about it, so it’s almost always left out of the equation when estates or relocations come up. So nuts-and-bolts audio is both readily available, and like we mentioned, we have great access to service so on the retail end all one needs is a moderate memory and an enthusiasm to learn about this ridiculous world. I’m referring to accessible things, not holy grail esoteric stuff which is not anything we need to worry about for the most part.
“On the consumer end that is an interesting question. I feel there is way more comfort and wayyyy less headache with vintage. First off is straight-up accessibility. The barrier to entry in the vintage world is significantly lower. Resources and information are readily available and there is an amazing community on the web. There is always someone willing to wax poetic about that 1977 Toshiba which had the extra-large transformer that one year. Yeah, confusing, but a lot of information distilled and barrel aged for you. Plus, proof of concept is well established. You can kind of pick a lane and kick up your heels and cruise comfortably in it. It takes a while to get your bearings because there is just so much out there, but it’s a lot more sincere than the new stuff as you’ll have guys telling you they had those speakers for “20 years” and still love them, or educate you on known issues of specific gear. It’s like an old pair of jeans – it just feels right. Comfortable.
“The new side is overwhelming as hell if one goes too deep, too fast, but sheesh, the new hi-fi feels a lot like smoke and mirrors. The old saying “don’t piss in my ear and tell me it’s raining” comes to mind with the bulk of new gear. Bloated prices, absurd information, industry speak, buzz words, repackaged/upgraded processors. It takes a lot of bandwidth to try to process "the new" in the audio world, and sadly more than time, it takes a lot more money. An obscene amount more. I’m not saying it isn’t worth it – some of the tube stuff coming out now, and some of the legacy speaker makers are still pumping out magic. It’s the busy ones that make me uncomfortable, like they are trying to hide a lack of substance under 50 layers of paint. No matter what, at some point I will hear it, and no amount of obfuscation will hide the sound. So just give people the sound, but many don’t want to.”
Not to come across as maudlin, but in many cases it’s like giving a colour blind person the gift of seeing in colour. They knew it existed, they just never experienced it. I love music and it is an absolutely essential part of my human experience, and if someone walks away with a new perspective on how they can engage something I’m so passionate about, it is truly rewarding – even if you take away the romantic pretensions."
–Clint Moroz
Resistor Mag: Has the vintage market for hi-fi undergone a noticeable change in trends since you’ve been in business, or is the focus still on very specific brands and models?
Clint Moroz: “I’m very lucky as a lot of my customers just want guidance and sincerity. So they simply want decent gear and a feeling of trust through the transaction. I have to admit, I really don’t encourage the “collector” types. My goal is to cultivate music fans not gear fans. Not that I don’t get those guys and that I don’t love them. Of course I do, and I get to have endless discussions about systems we have each heard and that we love.
“What I have noticed is just an expansion of interest in basically everything. If I used to get one call a month for a Sansui 9090, I now get one call a week for it. That goes for everything. The 60-year-old dude who was competing with other 60-year-old dudes for a Marantz 2240b is now competing with a lot more people. Especially since the onset of Covid. The models and brands that were popular 10 years ago are even more popular. The only real trend I’m seeing is more interest in formerly obsolete tech like cassettes and reel-to-reel tape machines. That’s more an uptick in interest than major trend.”
“I’ve found it's a very small percentage of people entering or even exploring vintage hi-fi that ask for specific models or brands. Most simply want to see and hear and leave with something pleasing to the ear and the eye. For the longest time, I had to add $75 to an amp if it had VU meters. Occasionally someone would come in and say they would like to match a system like Pioneer or Kenwood, or they would say they have a Kenwood piece, for example, and ask "Is it important to match the rest of the system?" Once it was explained how interchangeable it all was, they simply went with what sounded best. Other considerations I’m asked about include, “I’ve X amount of space for my receiver… what sounds good that will fit?” This pleases me a lot because they rarely get bogged down in 40-year-old reviews or details other than what they like the sound of. Many end up buying gear in not great cosmetic condition because it sounds great, and the price was even better, which always makes me smile. "I just want good sound" is something I hear often.
“I had an exceptional pair of AR-9s. Wild speaker. So many drivers and such an epic configuration. A guy had them reformed and a couple of capacitors replaced in the crossover. When he went to pick them up his wife said, “those aren't coming back in here!” So the guy is driving around with these in the back seat of his car. All he wanted was the cost of the reform for them, so I paid it. The speakers were exceptional, and sounded just like they should (whatever your opinion of that is, they were factory spec). Veneer was great, even had all the grilles in perfect shape. A rare find. The only issue was, on the back of one cabinet there was a small bump – a little quarter-inch dent. A fellow comes from Victoria, cash in hand, listens to them and is blown away. He finds the bump on the back corner and tells me he couldn't listen to them knowing the bump was there. Head scratcher, but that's the other side of the audio world. A couple days later another fellow comes in and sees them. He's wanted them since he was 13 years old, these are his personal holy grail speaker (nostalgia makes things sound better for sure). Full disclosure, I show him the bump. He laughs and says, “Who the hell would even notice that?” He couldn't believe the incredible condition of these 35-year-old speakers. Pops them in his truck and five years later he still drops in to tell me he has never been happier. It's all about the priorities. Music forward, or gear forward.”
Photo above: Space Lab crew Prediger, Jess Australia and Moroz take five in the listening area at the warehouse. Prediger intoned, "It’s always amazing to me to see how objects from such different worlds can fit together and create a certain sense of harmony."
Resistor Mag: Does vintage hi-fi suffer cycles of coming into, and out of fashion?
Clint Moroz: “I gotta say I can’t really answer that with much insight. I do know aspects certainly do. Like giant horn speakers or tube gear. Twenty years ago I had buddies finding Leak and McIntosh tube amps at the Salvation Army. But there are cycles to everything, I do feel hi-fi always has a place in many people’s homes, just which parts is the question. Look at headphone interest. This is purely a necessity-based cycle for a lot of people. If you extend hi-fi to simply say music appreciation, then no, it never goes out of fashion, but how it looks certainly comes and goes.”
Photo below: Moroz – "What would separate me from someone on Craigslist? Warranty. To offer that I needed service access. Truly, it’s like the world of Mad Max out there in the audio repair landscape of Vancouver."
Resistor: If someone was looking to put together their first vintage setup for vinyl, and had a budget of $1,500 what would you recommend? For a budget of $3,500? $10,000?
Clint Moroz: “You absolute bastard! This is the sort of question that could get a man committed or beaten for trying to answer. (We have a problem, as not all ESS Tempest or Dynaco A10 are the same price everywhere, but for arguments sake we will pretend.) Well, for the $1,500 system I would try to split it even three ways. A Dynaco A10 or Allison CD6, which are just the coolest. Both are pleasant, well-rounded speakers, play well with lots of amps and give decent representation on a wide range of music. The amp and speaker part is relatively easy for most people to access. I would say any mid-level ‘70s amp and any turntable in solid condition will give you everything you need. A wise man once told me that you would max out your source material 99 per cent of the time with any combination of decent vintage gear. Especially with a good needle and decent speakers."
Clint Moroz: “For $3,500 the doors open to some sexier-looking gear. Contradicting my own statements, a person could get an accessible modern tube amp and a solid state vintage amp in this range. For example, a Luxman L-30, or Harmon Kardon 630. Sansui AU-777 or any of the triple-digit series – something that gives you that lovely, warm, balanced sound without being coloured or antiseptic. Combine that with a Technics SL-1200MK2, or better yet the fully automatic SL-1600MK2 with an accessible Shure cartridge (I can hear the groans of the purists as I write this). Throw in some Pioneer HPM-100, or maybe Yamaha NS-1000. This way you’ll have some money left over to buy some better interconnects and a few records, and a nice bottle of something to sip while you enjoy the tunes.
“The $10,000 budget opens enough doors that we could write entire novels about the combination and justification of it for this exercise. Tannoy Arden – or whichever classic Tannoy that fits your space – Altec A19 or the Valencia. That horn presence is unassailable, effortless and smooth with an absurd range of music. Because I chose such efficient and easy-to-pair speakers, we don’t need to get weird about amps. Ideally an Audio research SP-3A-1 preamp (kind of an improved Marantz 7) and a nice power amp with fat VU meters. Maybe a Nelson Pass Threshold 400A or Luxman M-150. Like I mentioned, this exercise could take longer than any sane person could care to do. I would stick with the Technics SL-1600MK2. Upgrade the tonearm wiring, RCA out, and move up to something like an Audio Technica AT-ML170, or any of the later generation super cartridges and be happy as a clam.”
Photo above: Some of the top-shelf vintage amps currently in stock at Space Lab.
Resistor: Do you think interest in vintage hi-fi has been on the rise and do you foresee a growing market in people deciding to go the vintage route vs buying new?
Clint Moroz: “Well, with social media so prevalent, exposure to vintage is growing. Many people who engage streaming want to access vinyl and cassettes. Add in the ridiculous cool factor of vintage high fidelity, and it’s definitely on the rise. The bigger overarching aspect is the middle ground that vintage hi-fi exists in. The quality/cost/value proposition is astounding. There is either ultra low grade box store silliness, or elite boutique unjustifiable prices with limited cost /value ratios. Simply put, you want good sound and great value? Then vintage is the way to go, plus it’s a great hobby in itself. It improves your life in many ways, and is relatively accessible to most people because there is so much of it out there, even though the price range is extreme, the quality of even the most basic ‘70s integrated amplifier is unquestionable.”
Resistor Mag: What’s the best part about dealing in vintage gear?
Clint Moroz: “Well, there is a lot of benefit to me personally. It gives me access to so much gear. I get to hear and see 10 lifetimes worth of equipment. It’s fascinating, all the concepts and points of view which different manufacturers had, plus all the opinions people have regarding different equipment. Every pairing offers a huge range of subtleties in presentation, which is astounding. Also, it helps me explore my appreciation of both music and equipment. That aside, it makes my month when someone comes in and tells me they were listening to vinyl at a friends house or someone gave them records/speakers/whatever and they want to explore this world. When we hook up a system and they get to demo multiple amps or speakers it’s wild. They plug in their phone and listen to a favourite song on a vintage system, and you can watch their faces light up. It reminds me of my enthusiasm from way back. Not to come across as maudlin, but in many cases it’s like giving a colour-blind person the gift of seeing in colour. They knew it existed, they just never experienced it. I love music and it is an absolutely essential part of my human experience, and if someone walks away with a new perspective on how they can engage something I’m so passionate about, it is truly rewarding – even if you take away the romantic pretensions. Simple nuts and bolts, an individual walks away with something epic that is a great value and a far deeper interface with music. No need to get into the carbon reduction inherent in using something that already exists, regardless if it is a better product.”
Photo above: "Vintage hi-fi is an extension of a lifestyle and way of being… it’s all about enjoying the tunes, creating your own experience, not some reviewer's opinion."
Resistor Mag: The vintage hi-fi scene seems to be more about the music, about a laidback approach to the gear, and in general, the whole vibe seems to be the antithesis of audio nervosa. What’s your take?
Clint Moroz: “Well, in the journalism world they would call that a leading question, but obviously we are all on the same page here, so I’ll throw in my two cents. Let me say that any self -professed audiophile is just that. A gear person. My experience has brought me to the conclusion that audiophiles are a different animal. Looking for something that is so ephemeral they can’t even describe it. In many cases they sacrifice actual music appreciation in the hunt for some elusive factor. It’s easy to bash them because of the snake oil and the more uptight interaction with gear. Justified? If you spend $16,000 USD on a cartridge being uptight comes with the territory. You definitely don’t want your drunk friends handling that. It’s about qualifying the term “vintage hi-fi” by describing it as much about music as it is about value. Yes, it is about chilling with friends, engaging the music and not being so ridiculously precious about every aspect. Vintage hi-fi is an extension of a lifestyle and way of being… it’s all about enjoying the tunes, creating your own experience, not some reviewer's opinion. You gotta admit, laying on the couch with the lights off, a lovely strobe light and a VU meter or two glowing, that it transports you.”
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