_{All photos by Jonson Lee.}

Oh yes, their blue meters seduce us. And their signature sound speaks to us. To be fair, McIntosh amps are loved pretty much everywhere audiophiles live. 

But they seem even more loved in South Korea, my native country. In the US and Canada, pretty much the only public places where you’re likely to spot McIntosh gear is in audio shops and audio shows. But in Korea, which I recently travelled to from my home in L.A., I saw them in all kinds of unexpected places—coffee shops, bars, restaurants, even bookstores. They’re such a big part of South Korean culture that I wouldn’t have been surprised to find McIntosh equipment in a public bathhouse, a staple of Korean life. Imagine being submerged not only in herb-scented hot water but also in the glorious sound of hi-fi while naked strangers are sitting right next to you! 

Now let’s focus on something easier to imagine—McIntosh amps in bars and cafés. I went to many such places while visiting South Korea, and one of them, located in the country’s capital, Seoul, was called My Little Bar, an intimate and cozy bar only big enough to accommodate a dozen or so customers. The bar was tended by My Little Bar’s owner, Taimean, and his co-pilot, Lisa, while music was being played by a system that had pairs of everything: a pair of McIntosh MC1000 monoblocks, two pairs of Tannoy SGM 12X speakers, and two Technics SL1200 turntables.

What’s unique about Taimean’s love of audio is the fact that it wasn’t the sound that first drew him to this hobby—it was the look. He just loved the visual styles of Tannoy, Bowers & Wilkins, Goldmund and, of course, McIntosh gear. His love for audio’s “singing ability” came later. 

While Taimean put together his establishment’s sound system, Lisa is the bar’s main DJ. While I patronized the place, Lisa mostly played jazz fronted by female singers, including Esperanza Spalding, Laufey and Youn Sun Nah. I was not only pleased by the choice in music but also the way the songs flowed seamlessly from one to the next. I gave Lisa an A+ for her DJing chops. 

At my request, Lisa also played pianist Stefano Bollani’s spooky rendition of the track “Nature Boy”. This piece gave out quite a different vibe from the tracks that came before, with its avant-garde-ish harmonic twists and wide dynamic range. Not sure if other customers liked it, but playing it confirmed that the system could deftly handle more than just soft jazz.

I asked Lisa if being exposed to good sound quality made it more enjoyable to work there. Her response was that it’s nice to listen to while serving customers but her favourite part was to listen to the system before the place opened, when no one was around.

So, how would I describe the system’s sound? Bold and warm and it showed no strain when the volume was jacked up. I often have difficulty conversing with people in restaurants or bars, but in My Little Bar, I had zero difficulty conversing with Taimean and Lisa while the music was playing at higher than a background level. Turned out they had a sound mixer and used it to cut off a certain frequency to make our voices more audible, a trick they learned from professional DJs who worked there on Saturdays.

One of the highlights of my visit at My Little Bar was hearing Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five”—not the usual studio version but a live cut from the band’s album Le Festival de Jazz du Juan-Les-Pins (Live 1967). I was impressed by the system’s ability to convey both the music’s drive and its nuances.

I asked Taimean if customers would sometimes compliment his system. He said yes but added that it wasn’t the most gratifying part of having it. What made him truly happy was when customers who knew nothing about McIntosh or audio in general complimented the sound quality. It brought him joy, he said, because he knows that a lot of people don’t get to hear this level of sound quality in their daily life. For that brief time when they are at his bar, they can hear that sound for themselves, and appreciate it. They are transported to another world, musically but also personally.

At one point, Taimean served two young ladies who sat next to me. They were new to the world of whiskey and couldn’t handle a lot of alcohol, but they wanted to try a top-notch whiskey. He served them each a glass of Basil Hayden’s Kentucky Straight Bourbon, straight, then told them something interesting.

To enjoy a good whiskey, he said, you don’t necessarily have to drink it. Just pour it in a nice glass and enjoy its aroma. There is nothing wrong with that. And he was not going to kick them out for just sniffing the whiskey.  

It sounded to me like he was also talking about his McIntosh-based system. To appreciate it, you don’t have to own it; you can get a whiff of it from time to time at a place like My Little Bar, and breathe in its sound as you would breathe in the rich aroma of a Basil Hayden’s Kentucky Straight Bourbon.

Walking out of My Little Bar, it occurred to me that Koreans’ love for McIntosh gear is expressed not only through buying it or even listening to it, but maybe, most of all, through sharing it.