“They’re not accessories, they’re tools”: thus said J. R. Boisclair, principal owner of WAM Engineering, politely but firmly, when I asked him if I might include the WallySkater and WallyTractor analog set-up devices in a piece I was writing about accessories. I believe his distinction far from factitious. My Meriam-Webster defines accessory as “an object or device that is not essential in itself but adds to the beauty, convenience, or effectiveness of something else.” This definition surely applies to the Wally, Hagerman, and Riverstone Audio devices under consideration here, but they obscure an important difference. What we commonly think of as audiophile accessories are things that play an active (by active, I don’t mean electronically active only) role in the reproduction of sound, whether they’re tips, spikes, pods, stands, pads, mats, weights, clamps, ad infinitum, and they are typically in use when music is being played back. Tools are nothing of the sort; they never become part of an audio reproducing chain and cannot in and of themselves give you lower noise and distortion, better imaging, or greater transparency. An alignment protractor can’t stabilize a tonearm any more than its intrinsic design permits; a stylus-force gauge can help you set tracking weight accurately, but it can’t make a pickup hold to the grooves any better than its design allows. Tools, instead, exist to (1) fix things that are broken, (2) assemble things that come unassembled, and (3) facilitate or otherwise help optimize the setup of things that require at least minimal adjustment.

WallySkater and WallyTractor

WAM Engineering was founded in the early nineties by Walenty Malewicz, a gifted mechanical engineer with a passionate love for recorded music, particularly vinyl. In 1994, he introduced his first product, the WallyTractor, a device that allowed for precise horizontal alignment of the stylus in the groove and correct stylus overhang. As Malewicz was a gentleman who seemed far happier in the lab or listening to music, the business end of his company suffered, unable to keep up with the demand for its products. A beloved man and mentor, he passed away in 2018. Not long after, J. R. Boisclair bought the company and together with Malewicz’s son Andrzej relaunched Wally’s company as WAM Engineering LLC. Boisclair has since invented six more devices that address key aspects of phono pickup and tonearm setup. Now the effective face of WAM and its principal product developer, he also instituted a program of services including microscopic analysis of stylus and cantilever, in-home system setup, electroacoustic room/speaker tuning, and custom-made shims for achieving correct stylus rake-angle and azimuth.

On a recommendation from Michael Fremer, I acquired the WallyTractor, a considerably improved, more sophisticated and versatile protractor than the Malewicz original, and the WallySkater, a new device that checks tonearm bias and friction and assists in the setting of correct antiskating. These are the only Wally tools I’ve used, though on the basis of their effectiveness, I plan to investigate several more. In the remarks that follow I shall eschew physical descriptions of these devices and how they work on the principle that a thousand words is nowhere near worth a picture, to say nothing of the several detailed instructional videos on the WAM website.

The WallySkater costs $260 in its standard version, $310 in the Pro version. The greater control the Pro’s hanging mechanism exerts over the plumb bob and arm threads, to say nothing of its convenience, is easily worth the extra $50 (if you already have the standard, the Pro hanger is available for $60). The Tractor costs $395. If that seems a bit pricey, bear in mind it includes an etched spindle ruler and jig for measuring tonearm length; an articulated lighted magnifying glass (not strictly necessary, but trust me, once you start zeroing in on overhang, offset, and cantilever alignment, you’ll be glad it’s included); and the most precise protractor disc I’ve ever seen, with arcs etched into the mirrored surface to cover different arm lengths and catering to the two most popular alignment formulae and protocols; and personalized support (Boisclair makes himself available for anyone who needs assistance with the tools or remedies for some of the problems they might uncover in specific setups).

Boisclair recommends beginning with the Skater, because it allows you to check your tonearm for friction, freedom of movement, and any biases that might interfere with aligning your cantilever. His experience suggests that physical bias owing to arm wiring, careless routing of wires in the arm, perhaps misaligned, loose, or faulty bearings is more prevalent than you may think; these can cause lateral displacements of the arm, which misalign the cantilever one direction or another during the subsequent critical cantilever-alignment process, thus rendering correct orientation of the stylus in the groove “a mechanical impossibility.” If your measurements indicate such a condition exists, Boisclair says there are fixes and/or workarounds to address it; this is where the personal service comes in, the manual recommending contacting him at WAM. (If I were a dealer specializing in record-playing equipment, I’d have a WallySkater on hand if only to ensure the arms I sell are free from physical bias and excessive friction.)

Another issue is static horizontal friction, AKA stiction, which results in a condition whereby the stylus in effect pulls the arm across the record, which can cause asymmetrical loading of the delicate cartridge-motor’s damper. It also means, again, that it’s a mechanical impossibility for the stylus to stay in proper geometric relationship to the groove because as soon as an arm so afflicted starts to move across the record, it invariably pulls the cantilever out of alignment.

Once you’ve ascertained your arm has none of these issues, you’re ready to turn to the WallyTractor, which does what all other alignment protractors do only with far greater precision and exactitude: ensure proper stylus overhang with respect to arm length and proper offset with respect to optimizing the closest possible tangency a pivoted tonearm can manage to the record groove as it traverses the LP (radial arms are also accommodated). This protractor is rather daunting the first time you remove it from its cloth sleeve. LP-sized with a mirror finish, it’s divided into two halves, one labeled “Older Record Collections,” the other “Newer Record Collections.” Measurements Boisclair’s made of more than a thousand LPs revealed that those from 1990 forward “show a significant increase in innermost groove radius versus pre-1990 records.” The choice allows you to optimize your setup to get the best out of your collection. (“If you aren’t sure,” the manual says, “stick with Older Record Collection arcs!”)

Each half of the protractor contains 29 arcs for arms ranging in pivot-to-stylus lengths from 222 to 356 millimeters—in pairs. Why pairs? One for Baerwald alignment, the other for Löfgren. A center line through the spindle has crosshairs for the null points and for aligning the cantilever. First, you determine the pivot-to-stylus distance of your arm. If the arm’s manual doesn’t provide this information, the included ruler-jig lets you measure it yourself. Then you lock in overhang, offset, and cantilever alignment—the most time-consuming tasks. Next comes antiskating, for which you reemploy the Wally- Skater. I’ve tried all sorts of methods for adjusting antiskating, including test records, grooveless LPs, and the built-in gauges or dials on arms (which values are in my experience almost always too high); regardless of what I tried, in the end I’ve always wound up setting it by ear, using my most difficult-to-track LPs (but not test records, which introduce problems of their own). I once discussed this whole matter at length with the late A. J. Conti of Basis Audio, who was more fanatical about this sort of thing than anyone I’ve ever known (at least before Boisclair). A. J. recommended the grooveless record but readily conceded it was a compromise that almost always requires subsequent tweaking by ear. With the six pickups I’ve installed since using the Skater, I’ve never had to tweak a setting once I’ve locked it in.

As with all these operations, Wally’s online videos are invaluable, taking you through the processes step by step. How much effort and time are required? Well, I won’t lie—you must be willing to work slowly, patiently, and methodically at first. But the learning curve is fairly easily scaled and mastered; and bear in mind that assuming you don’t change arms, once the WallySkater has established yours is free from any serious bias or friction issues, if you change pickups, you can proceed directly to the antiskating, which is pretty quick. The WallyTractor adjustments are inevitably more time consuming because more minute, therefore painstaking, but after the first few setups, the time it took me dropped by half and lower, the most recent one dispatched in about 15 minutes.

Let me say straight off that with all the LPs I regularly use to check tracking, these two Wally tools let every pickup/arm combination I tried, which was several, perform better than with any other setup tools I’ve ever used, including the Dennessen Geometric SoundTractor (alas, long discontinued but heretofore my go-to). In sonic terms, the improvements include but are not limited to cleaner tracking, lower noise and perceived distortion, greater clarity and resolution, a more confident overall presentation with greater precision and solidity of imaging, more securely focused instruments and performers within the soundstage, and an impression of greater control and stability.

In a recent issue I reported on one of Ortofon’s latest vintage SPU variations, the Synergy G, outfitted with an elliptical stylus for better tracking. Based on a design introduced over 60 years ago, tracking was satisfactory to excellent much of the time, very good some of the time, and merely okay or not so good with really difficult-to-track records. Among the things it could not track without audible distress is the police whistle that puts an abrupt halt to the rumble depicted in the opening Prologue on the 2021 West Side Story soundtrack—until I set it up using the Wally tools, particularly the Skater. Afterward, the tracking was uniformly excellent, rarely less than very good. No, it still didn’t track that whistle and some other problematic LPs quite as cleanly as my Shure V15 V/Jico (reviewed in Issue 334)—even many modern pickups struggle with several of them—but the Synergy now comes very close, no longer breaking up, no longer causing me to tense up as the moment approaches. And speaking of the formidable Shure V15 V/Jico, which tracks superbly even in a relatively careless setup, when I got alignment and especially antiskating dialed in using the Wally tools, its tracking went from superb to superlative, the presentation more confident, more together, more controlled, more exciting yet paradoxically more effortless.

But at $655 for the pair, are the Wallies worth the expense and effort in the grand scheme of things? That I can’t answer for you or anyone else. One of the glories or ironies—depending on your point of view—of vinyl is that it’s a very forgiving medium. As anyone my age surely knows, millions have hugely enjoyed vinyl before or without the tools we now have to enable greater exactitude in setup or the components that allow for a considerably more faithful reproduction of what is in the grooves. It all comes down to priorities, I guess. I am not the sort to get obsessive over battening down every last hatch of pickup/arm/table setup, I do not tweak endlessly after I’ve done the best setup I can, and I don’t say the sonic improvements I’ve described here are life changing. But if my investment in pickup, arm, and table were only, say, a couple grand or less—and mine is far more than that—then the improvements I hear easily justify the Wally tools’ eminently reasonable pricing, let alone the modest effort required to master the use of them.

Hagerman Audio Labs Frybay3 and FryCorder2

Hagerman Audio Labs, headquartered in Honolulu, Hawaii, and founded in 1994, is a small direct-sales company focused on the design and manufacture of value-driven audiophile-grade electronics, handcrafted in the USA, with a 10-year warranty, 30-day trial period, and free shipping within the USA. That’s a paraphrase from the home page of the company’s website, written, I assume, by its founder Jim Hagerman. Most of the products have to do with phono preamplification and equalization, including a very reasonably priced phono preamp, called the Archiver, “designed to replicate any known equalization curve (36 in total), from 78rpm shellacs up to the modern era” (Google “Fremer Hagerman Archiver” for Michael Fremer’s review), and another, called the Bugle, billed as “arguably the best phonostage under $500,” the current price as of this writing being $249, including both mm and mc capability. (I love that “arguably”: How many under $500, let alone $249 phonostages are there for people to argue about?)

The two products under review here Hagerman calls accessories, though by my definition they are plainly tools. The FryBaby3 Compact Burn-In Generator ($289 regular, now $259) is designed specifically to speed up the burn-in of interconnects and speaker cables, but it can also be used to burn in linestages, phonostages, and amplifiers. Through a combination of wideband noise and variable-frequency amplitude modulation, the signal it generates exercises “both low- and high-frequency characteristics of conductors and insulators.” A three-position switch varies the output level among moving coil, moving magnet, and line, while two modes of burn-in, voltage and current, each requiring a different connective configuration from the other, are recommended for maximum effectiveness. The mm and mc modes include a reverse RIAA filter for proper phono equalization.

All this is clearly laid out in the manual, which suggests 24 hours for voltage burn-in, 48 hours for current, doubling those numbers for silver conductors. RCA jacks come standard, while XLR terminations require an adaptor ($49) that also allows for burn-in of headphones. Interconnects of either termination can be burned in together by daisy-chaining them. (In an email, Hagerman advised keeping the length under 30 meters!) The FryBaby3 also burns in speaker cables, one side at a time; BNC jacks and a set of binding posts are standard (if needed, additional sets costs $39 each). For burn-in of electronics, only voltage mode is used.

The FryCorder2 Power Cord Burn-In Generator ($189) is exclusively for AC line cords. Only one can be done at a time, recommended burn-in time four to five days.

Most of my regular readers know that I am about as far from a wire junkie as it’s possible to get. Over two decades ago, Neil Gader and I did interconnect and speaker-cable surveys, as a consequence of which I vowed I’d never subject myself to such an experience again—nothing to do with Neil, one of my closest friends and always a joy to work with, rather the objects of the surveys themselves. One reason is that there seems to be no consistent philosophy, paradigm, model, or comprehensive theory as to the hows and whys wire makes a difference, at least none upon which any two or more manufacturers can agree. Instead, there’s a veritable Tower of Babel of competing ideas and “explanations,” most of which I find tentative, incomplete, sometimes bewildering, occasionally nonsensical. Saying which, let me add that I’m perfectly willing to admit it’s my shortcomings in experience, education, intellect, and brain power—slow, I grant, but redeemed, I’ve always felt, by a certain doggedness in the pursuit of understanding—that prevent me grasping what many of them are talking about. Then there’s my subjective experience, to wit, that most of the claims made for improvements said to be wrought by changes in interconnects, cables, line cords, and conditioners are to my ears usually exaggerated, sometimes little or even no improvement at all, merely a noticeable difference, occasionally worse than before the swap. In order to forestall a barrage of angry emails to our overworked editor, please note that I do not say the differences are unobservable or insignificant, particularly to those for whom they are significant, merely to my mind overstated.

All of which begs the question, what the hell am I doing reviewing a pair of devices like these Hagermans? Fair enough. Well, first, despite the diatribe of the previous paragraph, I actually do use quality wire throughout my two main systems and have done for the past 40 years. The brands of interconnects, speaker cables, and AC power products include—the listing is alphabetical, so read no ranking in the order—Audience, AudioQuest, Benchmark, Cardas, Crystal, Hovland (along with the later mentions of Sumiko and Peterson, this now-defunct brand dates me, I know, but my Hovland interconnects are still among the very best I’ve ever used for very long single-ended runs), Kimber, Monster, Peterson (remember them?), PS Audio, Siltech, Sumiko (from the days when David Fletcher was still there), and Wireworld. Second, from time to time I do investigate wire products, either owing to what some reviewer I find reliable has to say about this or that one or because of a trusted audiophile friend’s recommendation I have a listen to something borrowed or newly purchased.

More recently, an audio-journalist acquaintance who had left writing to join the industry asked me if I’d like to try some of his company’s newest products, which had been getting lots of good press these last few years. Before I knew it, several interconnects, line cords, and a pair of power conditioners landed at my front door. There was no way I could reasonably begin to evaluate any of this unless I could cook them in fast, for which the only device I know for this is the Cable Cooker, which I don’t own. It was then that my good friend Dan Meinwald of EAR Imports told me about Hagerman Labs. A phone call followed, and less than a week later both FryBaby and FryCorder were deposited at my door.

They worked as claimed, reducing what might likely have been a several weeks’ break-in to a few days. For the purposes of this review, I’m limiting myself to my experience with AC line cords. Among the products sent by the wire company in question—it shall go unnamed, as I do not want disputes about brands to obscure the points I want to make about burn-in—were two identical samples, each two-meters in length, of one of its upper-end, read more expensive, line cords. I opened the first sample, connected it to the FryCorder2, and let it cook for five days. I then plugged it into the line conditioner (by the same company) and played music for another week or so. One day I cued up Impex’s Sing and Dance with Frank Sinatra remastering and listened for about a minute or so. Next, I substituted the unburned-in cord, which until then I had not even unpacked, and played the same passage at the exact same volume (my preamp has a numerical read-out of the level) for the exact same period of time, about a minute, though I certainly did not need that long.

The difference left me slack-jawed—this from someone who has often been deeply skeptical, if not positively cynical about the whole break-in, burn-in business. With the burned-in cord Sinatra’s voice was warm and rich, with as much dynamic range as the technology of the time allowed, full of life and vitality, with marvelous body and dimensionality. With the unburned-in cord the sound was pinched, thin, and edgy. So, the first thing I did is what I usually do when confronted with something like this—called in my wife Danielle. Now Danielle’s no audiophile, but she listens well and astutely, and her responses are untainted by typical audiophile predilections, prejudices, and pomposities. I started with the burned-in cord at exactly the same level and played the recording for the same length of time, around a minute. Then I told her I was going to play it again, but without letting her see what I was doing, adding that she might not hear any difference at all. Not 20 seconds elapsed before she said, “This is not subtle,” and proceeded to describe the differences she observed in more or less the same or closely analogous terms as I did. “What did you do?” When I showed her, she asked, something most of have at one point or another exclaimed in our audiophile odysseys, “But how can that make any difference—it’s just electricity!”

Reassured I wasn’t hearing things, I performed another experiment. I ordered a pair of 2-meter 3-pronged IEC cords from Amazon basics (they’re sold two to a package) and put them through the same steps I did the audiophile cords. One was broken in with the FryCorder2 for five days, the other left unopened. I then substituted the burned-in Amazon for the audiophile one. I did this at the beginning of the day, after the system had been left on all night, but without listening to music, as I didn’t want the sound of the audiophile cable in my head immediately before listening to the burned-in Amazon. Same piece of music, same duration, same levels.

Here’s what I observed. First, with the Amazon pair there were clearly observable differences between the burned-in and the unburned-in cords, except they were not so pronounced as with the audiophile brand. Second, the burned-in Amazon reproduced the Sinatra LP the way I am used to hearing it: lively, warm, rich, rounded, dimensional, etc. etc. etc. The unburned-in cord sounded dull and lifeless. Next, I substituted the burned-in audiophile cord for the burned-in Amazon. This produced a bit of surprise. The audiophile cord was observably superior, but not by nearly so much as I had expected, being a little livelier, more dynamic, more transparent—the usual litany of welcome characteristics. But the Amazon was by no means humiliated, the biggest difference to my ears the firmer bass line of the audiophile cord. Danielle wasn’t around for this experiment, but a close friend corroborated my findings.

What conclusions can be drawn from my little experiments? Frankly, not many of a general nature that I’d be willing to place much stock in without a far greater variety of source material, more numerous comparisons, much more time spent in the listening, and a wider sample of cords and brands. But the one thing that is clearer to me than ever before is the importance of burn-in, so much so that henceforth I shall never trust my impressions of any wire product auditioned immediately after it’s been removed from factory-sealed packaging. And I shall never again disparage the necessity of burning in wire products.

All this begs the same question as the Wally tools: Do you, if you’re a “typical” audiophile, need burn-in tools? Almost certainly not if your system doesn’t change much and you’re not into sampling new electronics and wire products on a regular basis. And even if you are, can’t you accomplish the same thing with ordinary music or a burn-in CD? Yes, you can, but it takes a lot longer, and it’s probably less effective than the broad-band signal developed by Hagerman, which reduces burn-in to a few days, which in turn certainly facilitates the reviewing process. My policy reviewing electronics is not to use fancy aftermarket AC cords or interconnects, at least not initially. I want to hear them as the consumer who buys them will hear them, with whatever comes in the box. So, while the FryCorder2 burns in the supplied AC cord, the FryBaby3 burns in the circuits in the unit itself: win-win every which way.

Finally, the most overlooked burn-in category in audio is tonearm wiring and phonostages and transformers. So low are phono signals, whether mm or mc, that Alan M. Krafton, who manufactures the Cable Cooker, has expressed doubts whether arm wiring ever gets fully broken in. Thanks to products like his and Hagerman’s, this no longer need be a concern (though it would be useful if Hagerman followed Krafton’s example and provided an adaptor so arm pickup-leads could be easily connected to the Frybaby3).

Oh, one thing more, just to drive us all a little crazier. Designers, technicians, and some audiophiles who are deep into the wire rabbit hole, e.g., Krafton and Garth Powell of AudioQuest, now tell us it’s from time to time necessary to re-burn-in interconnects, speaker cables, and line cords. For the life of me I can’t understand how a piece of wire that is in regular use manages to become unburned-in, but I’m not going to lose any sleep over that one. In the meantime, Hageman’s tools, like the Wallies, are staying put chez moi.

Riverstone Audio Record-Level Turntable Stylus Tracking Force Gauge/Scale

Do you need a vertical stylus-force gauge? If you change phono pickups only when absolutely necessary and your dealer does all the work, no. Even if you do your own setups and your tonearm has reliable built-in stylus-force measurement—more on this in a moment—then you can get along without one and probably have been for a very long time. However, if the vinyl bug really has bitten you, you doubtless have more than one pickup, perhaps several by now, maybe more than one table or a table that’ll handle two (or more) arms, and before you knew it you purchased an arm that requires an aftermarket vertical tracking-force gauge because the arm itself lacks any means of measuring VTF.

There are other reasons why you might want one. If the VTF mechanism on your arm is of the spring-loaded variety, you might find it advisable to check it from time to time because the springs can go out of adjustment. Truth to tell, one of the best kept secrets in the vinyl sector of high-end audio is that the built-in VTF measurements on most arms, even very expensive and highly reviewed ones, are notoriously inaccurate. (The excellent Jelco arm on the equally excellent Luxman PD-151 turntable is off by half a gram!) That is one reason why a number of the better arm designers skirt the issue entirely by requiring end users to equip themselves with a reliable after-market gauge.

Some audio reviewers and vinyl enthusiasts also like to use small variations in tracking force to make minute adjustments to vertical tracking angle, while others seek to resolve subtle differences in the sound with incremental adjustments of downward weight within the pickup’s recommended range. Those are two rabbit holes I’ve never elected to go down—I always set VTF at the middle to upper end of the specified range—but as a reviewer and an audiophile who began with vinyl and has remained committed to it for over half a century now, I change pickups, arms, and tables frequently, so a reliable VTF gauge is a necessity. Recently I realized a long-held dream of converting my garage to a home office; when it finally happened, in the spring of 2022, the space turned out to be commodious enough for a lovely second listening room with a second reference system. Before I knew it, I had need for a second VTF gauge, as whenever I wanted to change a pickup in one system, the gauge I already had was invariably in the other room. And much as I love the Clearaudio, I really didn’t want to spend $300 on another gauge. I tried several reasonably priced digital ones from Amazon and other sources, none of which was worth a damn for accuracy, repeatability, or reliability. Then, a friend told me about the Riverstone VTF gauge. Available from Amazon for less than $33—cheaper than some manual gauges—it turned out to be exactly what I was looking for, with some great features, including one I’ve seen on no other such device.

Google “Riverstone stylus force gauge video” for an instructional video of how to set up, calibrate, and use it, all of which are baby simple. Unlike many digital VTF gauges, the Riverstone comes with a pair of weights, one 20 gram, one 5 gram, for calibrating the scale (use the latter for VTF calibration). This is important. The delicate sensors on most digital VTF gauges sometimes give incorrect measurements for what appears to be no reason at all (the instructional video suggests that breathing heavily on the scale or a light breeze can adversely affect measurement). I’ve not had this happen so far with the Riverstone, but the friend who recommended it to me says he has, albeit very infrequently. This does not indicate a defect, merely that the scale needs to be checked and recalibrated. The process takes mere seconds (literally), which is why I do it every time I commence a new setup.

The other feature of the Riverside, which is unique to it and accounts for the “Record-Level” in the nomenclature, is that you can adjust the scale so that the VTF is measured at or extremely close to the surface of the LP. Depending on where the center of gravity of the arm is and how the counterweight is configured, if the tracking force is not measured at the height of the record surface, then the value as indicated on the display might not be the actual downward force when the record is played. Inasmuch as the vast majority of phono pickups specify a range of tracking forces, not one specific weight, this is hardly a cause for excessive concern. But if you want to eliminate it as a source of worry, the Riverstone is unique in my experience in making it possible.

Reliable, repeatable, easy to use, adjust, and maintain for exact accuracy, well made, and an extraordinary bargain to boot, an enthusiastic recommendation is a no-brainer. Like the WallySkater and WallyTractor and the Hagerman burn-in devices, the Riverstone is now a permanent part of my audio tool kit.