Building A Custom Plinth For A Thorens TD 150 Mk II

About eighteen months ago I picked up a shabby-looking Thorens TD 150 Mk II turntable. It came with an SME 3009 Series II Improved tonearm (fixed headshell) which was missing its rider rod, the rider weight and fingerlift. I paid £210 for the whole shebang - about what you might expect to pay for the arm on its own. I soon got hold of the missing components for the arm, but the turntable sat neglected in its tired, ugly plinth until May of this year when I finally gave in to the urge to prod it with the pretty stick.

Vendor's ebay photo of my unloved Thorens TD150 MkII

The original plinth on the Thorens TD 150 is, to my eyes, inadequate - both structurally and aesthetically - for such an iconic turntable. This particular one was in a particularly scruffy state. I figured that, if I could make a picture frame (which I can), then making a new plinth for a turntable shouldn't be beyond my limited DIY skills. Next stop, ebay, where I found some pre-planed lengths of American Black Walnut.

20 mm-thick American Black Walnut

Concerned that I'd forget which parts of the turntable's innards went where when piecing it all back together, I took dozens of photos of each component from every conceivable angle before beginning the process of dismantling the turntable. You can't be too careful!

The TD150's innards

It took me a while to work out that the screws that secure the turntable to the plinth are located under the aluminium top-plate on the Thorens. And even longer to find out how to remove the top-plate to get at them. Uncharacteristically, I didn't resort to brute force, but searched patiently online for a solution. It turns out that the upper and lower plates of the TD150 are held together with double-sided tape. Its grip showed no signs of having weakened with the passing years, but heating the aluminium with a hairdryer liquefied the adhesive on the tape and allowed the two plates to be slowly and carefully prised apart. Slowly, because the thin top plate could easily crease or bend if rushed.

Using a hairdryer to loosen the grip of double sided tape

I fitted a new blade to my mitre saw in anticipation of the walnut being heavy going, but nothing could have prepared me for the iron-like density of this timber. This is why the DIY gods invented power tools - shame then that my mitre saw is powered by sweat and expletives. It did the job though - eventually. A framers' guillotine was then used to remove wafer-thin slices of walnut from the mitred timber to ensure a good clean, accurate join, and the parts were glued and clamped.

Assembled plinth glued and clamped

For simplicity's sake I made the plinth with the same internal dimensions as the original, albeit with higher (90mm), and thicker (20mm) sides. With hindsight I should have made it a few centimetres wider to accommodate a larger armboard and to give the SME tonearm a bit more room to breathe, but that's a minor quibble.

Once the main body had been assembled and clamped, I used the triangular off cuts that resulted from cutting those 45 degree mitre joints to brace and strengthen the plinth. These were cut to an appropriate length and glued in place. After allowing 12 hours for the glued joints to dry, using the layout of the original plinth as a guide, I cut lengths of 10mm pine stripwood and glued and nailed them in place to provide the necessary support for the top-plate. Once dry, I dropped the turntable into its new plinth and - surprise, surprise - it fit.

Trying the plinth for size

The next stage was to use fine sandpaper and wire wool to give a really smooth finish to the timber. Once the surface was prepared, I applied natural Danish Oil with a cloth to bring out the beauty of the grain. I allowed six hours' drying time between each of the five coats and used a fine sandpaper on the plinth between applications, finally buffing with a cloth to give a warm satin finish to the wood.

Braces and batons

Corner brace

Building up the layers of Danish oil

I replaced the original flimsy baseboard with a piece of 6mm MDF. This improves the structural integrity of the plinth and, as a result, the sonics of the turntable. I could probably have used an even thicker piece of MDF, but that's something that I can easily change down the line. I discarded the original black rubber washers that were masquerading as feet and opted instead for height-adjustable conical metal spikes. They look great and make the turntable easy to level.

Conical turntable isolation foot

I drilled two holes in the rear of the plinth for the power lead and arm cable. On the original plinth the leads were fed through holes in the baseboard, but I was looking for a tidier and more elegant finish. Then I went to work on the platter,  giving it a thorough going over with T-Cut metal polish before buffing with a soft cloth. I opted to keep the original arm-lowering knob on the turntable, even though it's disconnected and surplus to requirements, because, well, why not! It lends balance to the over-all look.

Ideally, I would like an armboard made from the same walnut as the plinth. I've earmarked a piece with a particularly attractive rippled grain, but I don't have the right tools to accurately cut the timber. For now, I'll make do with the original armboard, even though it's looking past its best - not helped by the fact that I used acetone to clean off some dirt and sticky residue and removed part of the black lacquered finish in the process!

Piece of walnut earmarked for the new armboard (with the original)

I recently acquired a new platter weight, with integral spirit level, from a seller in Germany. I had to adjust the suspension on the Thorens to allow for the added weight, but it sets the turntable off nicely and tightens up the sound.

Platter stabilizer weight with integral spirit level

The SME came fitted with an ADC 10E MkIV moving magnet cartridge when I bought it. This is a great little cart, but I have no idea how many hours are on it, or how it had been treated by its former owner. The fact that he was using the arm without the rider weight may hint at the stylus having uneven wear. Being incapable of leaving my equipment alone (!), I had to try a Moving Coil cartridge on the Thorens, just for a comparison. Unfortunately, it sounds so damned good that I don't want to take it off. I had intended using it with my Linn Sondek, but am having second thoughts now. The cartridge in question is an Audio Technica AT-F5 OCC. And it's lush!

Audio Technica AT-F5 OCC and disc stabilizer

At some point, I plan to have a  Perspex dust cover custom-built to finish the turntable off. For what was intended as a cheap back-up turntable to play some of my more beat-up records, this is turning into a rather serious project. The performance of the TD150 since I nursed it back to health is beyond anything I could have imagined. I'm beginning to understand why so many people hold these turntables in such high regard.

Linn Sondek LP12 alongside Thorens TD150 MkII

Nagaoka MP11 Put To The Test

A couple of weeks ago I installed a new cartridge. The Ortofon MC Vivo Blue was getting a bit long in the tooth, so when I got the chance to buy an unused Nagaoka MP11 Permalloy cartridge for under £40 including postage, I grabbed it with both hands. I wasn't kidding myself that the MP11 would be in the same league as the Vivo Blue, but I had heard that it's a very well regarded cartridge.

Crucially, the Nagaoka is a breeze to install and set up. Even the fiddly little nuts and bolts that secure the cartridge to the tonearm's headshell didn't present too much of a problem once I stumbled on the idea of lightly pushing the nuts into a blob of Blu Tac to hold them steady while I tightened the bolts. Fingers are not made small enough to get a grip on these things, and I don't trust myself with tweezers so close to a delicate cartridge assembly. I have a selection of cartridge alignment tools, all of which leave me bellowing expletives like a scalded Wookie with Tourette's. They piss me off royally! All of them that is except my simple, laminated paper, Audio Origami protractor designed by someone called Seb. If you ever read this Seb, thank you! More info on which set-up tool might work best for you can be found at vinylengine.

I won't go into all the tedious detail of how to install and set up a phono cartridge because other people are better qualified than me to bore and baffle you with all that VTA and azimuth stuff. If you make sure your tonearm is parallel to the surface of your records when you play them, check that your stylus is perpendicular to the vinyl when it sits in the groove, and ensure that your tracking force is set somewhere in the middle to the upper end of the recommended range in order to minimise record wear, then you won't go far wrong. No piece of expensive kit is as essential to successfully setting up your cartridge as your eyes and your ears. If it looks out of whack or sounds like crap, tweak it until it doesn't.

Whenever I install a new cartridge on one of my turntables, I have a selection of go-to albums that  I use to put it through its paces. Obviously, when choosing your go-to LPs you want records that you know really well otherwise you'll have no idea how well the cartridge is presenting the music in the grooves. You will also want to chuck a few challenges in the cartridge's way to see how well it copes. I sometimes use my Shure Audio Obstacle Course LP to see how well a new cartridge acquits itself, but with the best will in the world, it doesn't exactly make for an enthralling listen. Here then are some of the records that I use to test my cartridge set-up:

Roger Waters - Amused To Death

This is a beautifully produced album with a three dimensional soundstage. Apart from the wealth of musical talent on show, the cartridge has to cope with presenting everything from quietly spoken narration and the distant barking of a dog to the sound of a cataclysmic explosion. I always forget when the explosion is coming and it scares the beejesus out of me every time. Even with the demands that it places on a phono cartridge, it's terrifyingly realistic.

Queen - The Game 

Inner Groove Distortion (IGD) is your worst enemy. In an ideal world every side of vinyl would end with a nice mellow acoustic instrumental number so that your cartridge never has to break into a sweat during those cluttered side-ending grooves. Save Me can sound shrill and distorted at the top end with a poorly set-up or underperforming cartridge: those high-pitched, massed harmony vocals are a real test. John Deacon's bass sound is magnificent throughout the album and is reason enough to give The Game a spin.

Ted Nugent - Ted Nugent

Robin Trower - Bridge Of Sighs

Ted Nugent's solo debut and Bridge Of Sighs are always early visitors to the turntable when I install a new cartridge because, for me, they perfectly encapsulate that warm analogue sound that a digital set-up has no chance of replicating. These albums are a perfect complement to a vintage system, especially one that features a tube amp and British speakers.

Pollution - II

Confusingly, this is the band's third album. Pollution's lead vocals are generally handled by Dobie Gray (best known for his solo hits The In Crowd and Drift Away), but Foolhearted Woman features the soulful Joplinesque shriek of Táta. That banshee wail, high and hot backing vocals that tip well into the red, a slab of vinyl that has seen years of hard service, and the fact that this song is a side-closer all conspire to make this a bitch for a cartridge to track. A good cartridge, well set up, will dig through any record wear and find the undamaged portion of the groove. The MP11 is clearly a good cartridge.

Billy Joel - The Nylon Curtain 

Much like Queen's Save Me, Joel's Goodnight Saigon, coming at the end of a side as it does, and featuring a massed chorus of vocals, can sound like an indistinct mush if your cartridge isn't up to the challenge. The Ortofon cart treated this supposed challenge with contempt, sounding as sweet on the inner grooves as on the opening track. I wasn't expecting the Nagaoka to emerge from this particular challenge with its dignity intact, but it copes admirably. It's possible to make out the individual voices that make up the football terrace chant of  "we'd all go down together".

Fleetwood Mac - Rumours 

Christine McVie's vocals on Songbird can be a real test for a cartridge, often falling victim to sibilance and distortion. The MP11 pretty much avoids this pitfall and does a fine job of picking out the subtle acoustic guitar underlying the piano. Apart from anything else, this is an album that has continued to rise in my estimation over the years. It's such a beautiful collection of songs. I really can't pick a favourite between the Peter Green and the Buckingham / Nicks eras.

Godley & Creme - Consequences 

This is a weird and, at times, wonderful album. I'm not sure that I've ever got through it all in one sitting, but one track pulls me back in time and time again. The Flood is like beautiful, sonic water torture, building from a single repeated drip to the titular inundation, with some heavy guitars along the way. When I think I have my cart set up just right, I sit back and let this track, quite literally, wash over me.

Pentangle - The Pentangle

Folk music has to be sufficiently far removed from its hey-nonny-nonny, finger in the ear, Morris dancer-soundtracking norm to find favour round here, but something of the quality of Pentangle's debut album has an open invitation chez Shelf-Stacker. If you want to know what it would sound like to have Danny Thompson playing his double bass in your front room, get your cartridge properly installed, drop the stylus on the last track on side one (Pentangling) and prepare for your jaw to hit the floor. You can almost hear the calluses on Danny Thompson's fingers. Gobsmacking!

Once I'm feeling suitably smug and contented with the sounds being conjured from the grooves by my newly installed cartridge, nothing can beat prolonged immersion in Pink Floyd, The Alan Parsons Project or some early Sabbath.

If you purchase a Nagaoka MP11, one thing you will notice is how much the sound changes and improves after a running-in period of thirty hours or so. After this time there is an almost immediate smoothing off of any rough edges and a general improvement in the over-all refinement of the sound. Any harshness is tamed, the bass becomes more defined, and you stop listening to the cartridge and begin losing yourself in the music - which is how it should be. So, how does the MP11 compare to the Ortofon that it replaced? Well, the first thing you notice about this cartridge is how bleeding beige and ugly it is. It reminds me of an oatmeal-coloured Lada Estate that my mum used to drive. Its unsexy blockiness does however make it very easy to align. The MP11 provides less detail in the mid-range and is not as forward in its presentation as the Ortofon, but apart from that I'm struggling to find any glaring flaws in its performance. It tracks beautifully and is forgiving of less-than-pristine records. I certainly don't feel like I'm slumming it with this highly affordable cartridge and I doubt it will be the last Nagaoka cartridge that I buy.