The rest of the time, he runs Retro Stereo—finding and refurbishing stereo components that are old enough to be your father’s, then reselling them through local vintage stores. He’s been working up to this since unmasking his own humble 8-track player at age 12.

“I think I started pursuing better and better quality stuff when I realized my General Electric 8-track stereo was not as good as the other brands out there,” says Karras, who is 46. “I was one of those kids who would go in the high-end room at the electronics store, and they wouldn’t bother me because I knew how to operate them.” That’s how it was, back before Fred Rated became the Madman Muntz of the home stereo system.

“If you were born in the ’70s, there were stereo wars, and people were building these systems,” Karras says. “You got to a point where they were almost military in their construction. Now, it’s ‘How can we make it for less?’”

He’s right; your Apple iBook battery says right on the box “Designed by Apple in California/Battery Assembled in China” because they do it cheaper; and the U.S. military—once a legend just for its surplus—now makes its soldiers buy their own equipment.

But once—once upon a time—your Zenith Cobra, your RCA Victor 9-JY (one of the first 45-players), your 1960s General Electric console were all made here: of real metal and genuine wood—even if it was veneered. It was a different time.

“People spent a lot more time listening to music. I would go to people’s homes and we would listen to music,” Karras says. “I think we’re getting back to that.” He says the DJs led the way—same as it ever was—in reintroducing us to the tactile joy of putting the needle on the record. And slowly, we’re coming in from the cold.

“There’s a warmth with regard to functional turntables,” says the man who extols the virtues of point-to-point circuitry—and he means the warm expanse of that pre-digitized sound pouring out of your padded Sony headphones, which look like they belong on a flight deck. “And the volume of what was recorded in 60 and 70 years is far greater than what has been digitized and made it on CD. That’s part of it.”

The other part?

“There’s so much stuff out there that just needs a little TLC,” says Karras, who finds his patients the same places you would—garage sales, thrift stores, online. “There’s a green element to this that’s very important to me. I’m trying to keep quality stuff out of the dump, and keep them from making new stuff.

“We’re not really a culture that likes to get involved in restoration and repair, but I think we’re going to have to start.”

And why wouldn’t you? There’s a formality to this stuff that’s strangely appealing; stylistically, we’ve come far enough that even 1980s-era black metal stereos look good. Giant silver boomboxes look like space shuttles.

Karras sells whatever he finds: still-new Califone headphones in sherbet colors, ’70s Japanese stereo components with quality surpassing our own; those little, portable, U.S.-made record players that every classroom once had—and enough LPs and 45s to stock them all.

“For me, because of when I grew up, I’m sort of ’69 to ’79,” he says, isolating his own favorite period. “It’s just fun to play with the equipment. It lights up, it’s got knobs, it’s got toggle switches. Toggle switches! It’s like buying a piece of furniture.”

It’s furniture you can listen to.

Tags: fingerprints, Long Beach, retro stereo, vintage collective, warehouse 1333