Ten copies, one click, the same spot

There is one fault on a new record I can name before I even look at the dead wax. A pop or a crackle that comes back once every revolution, regular as a clock. That is the stamper talking.

Every record is pressed from a metal stamper, a kind of mould. It wears over time and develops scratches and imperfections. Every single record pressed from a damaged one carries the identical defect, in the identical place.

Is it my turntable? No. Is it my cleaning? Also no. Buy ten copies of that pressing and you buy the same click ten times, at the same point of the same revolution. The defect is in the groove, so no washing will ever reach it.

This is why exchanging a bad record for another copy of the same run is wasted money and wasted time. Return it, then research a different pressing. For some classic catalogues a near-mint original, or a Japanese pressing from the late '70s or early '80s, will do what the reissue cannot.

Bad luck strikes once. A damaged stamper strikes every copy.