Talking Bollocks at Bristol and Other Rock and Roll Habits

I am writing this after spending the last couple of days at the excellent Bristol HiFi Show, and what a couple of days it’s been. Today’s been one of those days where you get back to the hotel totally knackered from too much talking, too much listening, too much walking, and not quite enough sitting down…it’s an age thing. However, we did manage to get out for a fab Portuguese meal tonight. The annoying part is that, at the time of writing, there is still the whole of Sunday to go. Sadly, we have to fly out early thanks to some spectacularly ill-timed flights, so that we will miss it entirely; the joys of cheap airlines, eh?

Still, Friday and Saturday reminded me of something really important about HiFi shows – we work in a really rather wonderful and brilliant community.

Now, like any community, it is not perfect. Far from it. We have our disagreements, our rivalries, our occasional falling outs, and the odd person who you simply never quite click with. That’s just human nature, I reckon. It is also what makes communities real rather than some artificial idea of sweet harmony (what a tune).

Think about any family. The really good ones aren’t made up of people who all agree all the time. They are made up of people who argue, disagree, sometimes irritate each other enormously (sorry, folks), and yet still turn up to the same table to break bread. HiFi is a bit like that.

After Friday’s show, Saturday morning began with us doing our bit by handing out HiFi PiG cupcakes to early visitors. It is a silly little tradition, really, and there’s no grand strategy behind it, and definitely no clever marketing thinking. We just like doing it because it makes people smile. And that, in a nutshell, is part of what makes this hobby feel so real and human.

You see the same faces year after year. Some you know really well, some only in passing, some you recognise but cannot quite place until they remind you of a conversation from three shows ago about turntable isolation or valve choices. Some you have to do the “show bow” and look at their name tag to connect face and name. Those brief interactions, repeated over time, build something pretty cool, I think.

By the afternoon, that sense of community becomes even more obvious. You (literally) bump into old friends you have not seen since the last show season. You meet new people who already feel pretty familiar because you have exchanged emails, messages, or comments online for years. A show turns those digital connections into real ones. Silly comments passed in the lift years ago flood back. Saying hello to someone in a Hawkwind tee-shirt you didn’t know but now recognise as a kindred spirit.

And then, of course, there is the bar.

Oh, the bar!

The bar at a HiFi show is not just a place to have a drink, it’s where the industry becomes human. Really human! Manufacturers, reviewers, distributors, retailers, hobbyists, and complete noobs all end up sitting at the same tables, talking complete and utter bollocks for hours. Not product pitches, just stories, jokes, gossip, memories, and music. Mostly music. And bollocks. Lots of bollocks.

It is in those moments that you realise this hobby is not just about the kit. The kit is just the glue (nod to the paraphrased title for those in the know) that allows strangers to start conversations that quickly become something more real. I’ve made so many mates in the bar at shows. Sometimes we end up disagreeing on this or that, but the connection remains, all the same.

On Saturday afternoon was the Women in HiFi meeting that Linette organised. I didn’t attend, obviously, but hearing about it afterwards from several people really struck a note with me. It offered something really simple but very important. A safe and welcoming space for women in an industry where they remain significantly underrepresented. An hour or so where they could meet, talk, have a drink (fruit-based…not really), share experiences, and feel part of something that is very much their own. Not because it excludes anyone else, but because it helps to build a broader, more inclusive community overall. If HiFi is to thrive, it cannot remain a hobby that feels closed or intimidating to large parts of the population. Initiatives like this help ensure that the next generation of enthusiasts will be more diverse, more welcoming, and more reflective of the world outside our hallowed listening rooms. Well done, Mrs HiFi PiG, for all the years you’ve been organising these events around the world.

It does not matter where you come from, how old you are, what equipment you own, or whether you are an obsessive audiophile or someone who simply loves a good tune. Music crosses boundaries. It creates shared emotional experiences between people who might otherwise have nothing in common.

You see that all the time at shows like Bristol. A stranger walks into a room, hears a track they love, and instantly starts talking to the person next to them. Within minutes, they are discussing their favourite albums, gigs, and memories tied to certain songs. The equipment disappears into the background, and what remains is the human connection bonded by music. I’ve yaddered on about this before…many times.

Yes, we might argue about formats, cables, measurements, and all the rest of it. Yes, we sometimes take ourselves far too seriously – guilty m’Lud. Yes, there are egos involved, as there are in any industry built around passion. But step back for a minute and look at what is created here at the show. What you see is a network of people who share a love of music and the experience of listening to that music on quality home audio kit. A community that gathers in hotel corridors, demo rooms, exhibition halls, and bars, not just to talk about gear, but to connect with each other and mostly talk bollocks.

Spending a couple of days at Bristol has reminded me that this is something worth celebrating and talking about on this (surprise, surprise) wet Saturday night in SW England.

It’s not just the products, not only the technology, not even the sound quality, though all of those things obviously matter a lot. What really matters most of all is the people.

The old pals, the new friends, the random conversations that begin with HiFi or music and end somewhere entirely different. The laughter (lots of laughter), the shared memories, and the endless talking of absolute bollocks over a drink at the end of a long day…or during the day, if you are that way inclined.

And to my mate Stew, who decided not to come along this year, you were really missed! You are exactly the kind of person that helps bring this all together; the Cornish pixie weaving some kind of Celtic who-knows-what into epic memories!

The show is open all day today, and if you haven’t made it yet or if you are in two minds, just go…it’s fab!