Keith Monks Prodigy Special Edition: Monarch record cleaning machine

Those of us who have been buying records for decades recognise that today’s machinery is a far cry from some of the weird and wonderful things we were persuaded to try back in the day. Who remembers the sticky roller that supposedly lifted the accumulated muck out of our precious grooves, or that long arm with, if I correctly recall, a brush and velvet pad on the end, which was fitted opposite to the tone arm and tracked across the record as it was playing? We knew that some bright spark had come up with the idea of putting the record on a rotating platter, wetting it with a specially formulated liquid, holding a brush against the record’s surface as it turned and then using a vacuum system to suck the liquid and the dirt within it away from the record into some sort of reservoir. However, that all seemed a bit exotic and perhaps somewhat over the top for our needs.

The bright spark in question was Keith Monks, a British engineer, who, in collaboration with some enlightened BBC engineers, designed and built the first such machine. This was in the Swinging Sixties, when the only easily accessible medium for broadcasting recorded music from the studio was what we in the UK called the gramophone record, and our cousins across the pond called the phonograph. It was anathema to the BBC to have a record of misbehaving or even just sounding bad when playing to the nation. The original idea is credited to one Percy Wilson, who was, according to the fascinating account on the Keith Monks website, a pioneering audio designer but also a writer and journalist.

Building the business

Keith Monks built a business, and his name became synonymous with the machines that his company produced. And those of us who haunted Hi-Fi exhibitions over the years got to recognise him in his trademark white laboratory coat demonstrating his wonderful machines. Sadly, he passed away in 2005, but his son Jonathan stepped up and took the company that still proudly bears his father’s name forward into the 21st century and has brought his own ideas and a new design aesthetic to the machines. That brings us to the subject of this review, the Keith Monks Prodigy Special Edition: Monarch record cleaning machine.

The Prodigy design has been around for a while now and was indeed reviewed in these pages by Jimmy Hughes back in January 2022, and I myself had one for evaluation the year before that. However, like any engineer worth his salt, Jonathan is always investigating ways to improve his products, and the Prodigy Special Edition: Monarch has definitely brought some additional features to what a very fine machine was already. The body and lid top are painted a rich shade called Royal Burgundy, in recognition of the coronation of King Charles III here in the UK of 2023. It is a limited edition and comes with a certificate confirming its number and signed by Jonathan Monks. Whether you are an ardent royalist or a staunch republican matters not a jot. This device is a wonderful visual treat, especially as around its middle, it has a string of LEDs which glow beautifully and illuminate the reservoir for used liquid as well as the bottle holder from underneath. It may sound odd but it really works. I wish my time with the Prodigy had coincided with our shorter days so that I had more time to enjoy playing with colours. There is a remote control for that purpose included in the package.

Form and function

In terms of operation, the Prodigy has always been a masterpiece of synergistic form and function. Using it is delightfully simple. On the top left hand side there is a small circular platter, with a cylindrical clamp that is screwed on and off. Take the disc to be cleaned (be it a vinyl record, a CD, DVD or Blu-ray) and lower it over the spindle. Screw on the clamp until it is holding the disc securely in place. Take the supplied bottle of DiscOvery fluid and splash a few drops on the inner grooves of the record. Move the wand arm inwards so that it is resting on the record label. Turn on the machine using the rocker switch on the front right. Where the Majesty Edition differs from the original Prodigy is that the microfibre wand that was previously handheld is now fixed on the top plate and needs to be moved against the record edge, where it absorbs any fluid spinning off the record. Use the supplied Precision Cleaning brush to work the liquid into the record grooves while gently moving the brush outwards to the edge of the slowly turning record. As this is happening the wand, tipped with a soft compound, tracks from the record label outwards, drawing out all the liquid and pumping it into the reservoir inside the bamboo casing of the machine.

This has taken me almost as long to type as it takes for the machine to clean one side of the disc. Then turn the machine off. Turn the record over and repeat. And that’s it. Thanks to the microfibre cylinder, the edges are dry, and the newly cleaned record can be slipped into an appropriate antistatic inner sleeve and returned to its outer sleeve. I set aside a morning for record cleaning and got through 20 or more albums before needing a break. My own American-made record cleaning machine makes a very loud high-frequency noise when the suction motor is switched on. The Prodigy, on the other hand, runs mercifully quietly. I had invited a friend who has recently returned to vinyl replay after many years away from it to bring over some second-hand albums he had bought online. With all but one exception, they looked in pretty good condition, but after giving them the Prodigy treatment, they were visibly cleaner. I slipped each one into an antistatic sleeve and returned them to the outer sleeve.

The Listening Tests

This leads to the next obvious question – can I hear a difference as well as see one? Let’s address that now. As I have mentioned, I do own a record-playing machine and have over the years had bouts of enthusiasm and cleaned a lot of my older albums, some of which I bought as a teenager in the late 1960s and on into the 1970s, but there are still plenty that have not been through the cleaning process. 

The first one that I selected was on EMI’s ‘budget’ label Classics For Pleasure, a program of two of Edvard Grieg’s best-known works, his piano concerto in A Minor and the Peer Gynt suite (CFP160). It is played by the London Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by John Pritchard with Peter Katin on the piano. As an interesting aside, this 1971 recording was sponsored by a tobacco brand owned by WD and HO Wills, whose financial support enabled EMI to make several recordings a year with the London Philharmonic for release on Classics For Pleasure – I cannot imagine any record company seeking such sponsorship in the modern era, even if it was legal. I have not played this record more than half a dozen times in my 62 years of ownership, and I have no idea when I last heard it, but we are talking decades not years. 

I examined it carefully before putting onto my LP12, and it looked in pretty good nick. I spun up the turntable and from the first notes I was hooked. It actually sounded pretty darned good until about halfway through that first track there were a couple of very audible pops. Not enough to cause my Dynavector XX2’s stylus to depart from the groove, but still a disconcerting reminder of why I switched my classical music buying to Compact Discs from the mid 1980s:‘perfect sound forever’… hmmm, that’s for another day’s discussion.

Faded Grieg

Once the last notes of Grieg’s beautiful concerto had faded, I took the album across the hall to the dining table where the Prodigy had taken up residence and bathed both sides in the Keith Monks liquid. As I undid the clamp and lifted the album up for inspection, it was much shinier than when I had played it the first time. Returning to the listening room I once again lowered the stylus onto the first side. The difference was evident and audible right from the start and when we reached the same passage of music where I had been distracted previously, the pops had gone. There was inky black silence between the tracks and the whole aural experience was improved, with Katin’s piano sounding very lifelike. I then played the Peer Gynt side and was carried away by the music, with In The Hall Of The Mountain King really carrying a majestic authority.

Of course, it is not just decades-old records which benefit from cleaning. As a matter of course, I try to clean new ones as and when they arrive because while I ensure that record-pressing plants do their best to maintain a sterile atmosphere, the subsequent inspection and packing by humans can leave traces. I have received brand new shrink-wrapped albums with the odd fingerprint visible on the otherwise pristine plastic. In addition, the pressing process can leave microscopic particles lurking in the grooves. I am trying to cut back on my record buying, but occasionally, I yield to temptation, and while the Prodigy was here, I received a couple of parcels from my preferred independent record vendor. The Talking Heads’ epic concert film soundtrack Stop Making Sense has been remastered and re-released on a double album. I gave that the Keith Monks hygiene treatment before I had played it at all. I sat through all four sides and am very happy to report that the sound was truly excellent, without a single click or pop to be heard.

Promoter or detractor?

Record cleaning has always had its promoters and detractors. I sit firmly in the promoter camp, but I also exercise some caution. I think it may be possible to over-clean any given record, and I did not select previously cleaned ones to clean again on the Prodigy. Once they are done once and housed in the good-quality inner sleeves, I think that is all they need as far as deep cleaning goes. 

Over the years I have spent more money than I care to admit on products designed to improve my enjoyment of vinyl replay, some more plausible in hindsight than others. To this day, I use an AudioQuest soft fibre brush and a Milty Zerostat gun as part of my record-playing ritual, even on discs with a proper wash. However, I only purchased a machine to do the job of deep cleaning my treasured record collection within the last 10 years, and that only gets used in bursts of enthusiasm even though I know it is doing a decent job. The Keith Monks Prodigy would go to the top of my shopping list if I were in the market today.

 It is relatively light and thus easy to move, thanks to the bamboo construction. It runs quietly, even with the vacuum pump working. It looks great and will give you a light show whenever you switch it on (if the lights bother you there is an off button on the remote control!). It has fantastic pedigree, bearing the name of the man who all those decades ago started to build machines that satisfied even the BBC’s most demanding engineers. His heir and successor Jonathan has kept the brand moving forward, and manufacturing is still done on the Isle of Wight, which is proudly announced on the shipping carton. The Prodigy is a fine machine and one that is easy to recommend to anyone with a record collection of any size.

Technical specifications

• Type: Record Cleaning Machine
• Special Edition Bamboo Construction
• Includes: Vacuum performance gauge, 1min 30 fast clean, exclusive Royal Burgundy satin finish with gold & bamboo accents, signed numbered certificate
• Dimensions W×H×D (main cabinet): 55 × 14 × 22cm (deck fittings and lid cover add 9cm to height)
• Weight: 5kg
• Price: £2,395/$2,595

Manufacturer

Keith Monks Audio Works

www.keithmonks-rcm.co.uk

+44(0)1983 857079

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