Six Months with the Rolleiflex 2.8 D – Medium Format TLR Camera Review

Six Months with the Rolleiflex 2.8 D – Medium Format TLR Camera Review

1999 1331 Josh Solomon

After reviewing vintage cameras for a while, you tend to become distrustful of any camera or lens with a legendary reputation. All of us here at CP have stories of disappointment with well-regarded cameras. It’s not anybody’s fault; some cameras just fit certain people, and others not so much. So when I got ahold of a Rolleiflex 2.8D, one of the most famous cameras in the history of photography, I held my excitement in check.

The reputation of the Rolleiflex precedes it in a big way. Show one to any older photographer and they’re likely to either wax poetic about their perfect old Rolleiflex or lament their unfulfilled dreams of owning one. These cameras were considered the king of medium format photography in their day (and by some accounts, still are), and were seen as the perfect camera for professional reportage and studio work.

The Rolleiflex is also one of those rare cameras whose fame stretched beyond the realm of photography. Sure, loads of cameras can claim their share of famous users, but not many cameras can claim to have their own lyric in a Brazilian Bossa Nova classic or have a spot on the back of the Filipino one hundred peso bill. The Rolleiflex became more than a camera, it became a cultural icon, a symbol of early and mid-twentieth century style and function.

But no matter how famous a camera is, or how amazing a camera is said to be, there’s no overcoming the paranoid skepticism of a jaded camera reviewer. Could I really trust almost half a century of unadulterated worship? Or would the Rolleiflex prove to be another over-hyped relic unfit for modern hands?

From the first moment one holds a Rolleiflex, it’s clear from outset that it’s a camera that belongs to a completely different time and place. There’s no camera on the market today that looks and functions like a Rolleiflex (even if some cameras desperately try to ape it). The twin lenses, the boxy form factor, and the litany of knobs and dials -it’s all so old-fashioned. And this extends to its aesthetics as well. The Rolleiflex is photography’s Art Deco poster child, featuring concentric bevels, boldly outlined features, and wonderful mid-century typeset that defined that particular school of design.

But wait, Art Deco flourished in the 20s and 30s, and a little research indicates that my review camera, the Rolleiflex 2.8D, rolled off the production line in 1955. Turns out the Rolleiflex’s design was old-fashioned even in 1955. What gives?

What we’re seeing is a classic case of if-it-ain’t-broke-don’t-fix-it. With its original Rolleiflex in 1929, Rollei had a winner and decided not to screw around with a perfect formula. And even though time marched on, even with only a few updates from decade to decade the Rolleiflex remained at the top of the TLR heap for as long as it was in production.

It’s not hard to see why this thing was so universally loved by those who could afford it and coveted by those who couldn’t. It’s small, solid, and has an air of quality few cameras possess. Dials, knobs, and levers actuate like fine, Swiss clockwork and are simply beautiful to watch in action. Popping open the viewfinder makes a definitive, almost gun-cock like “ssshck” and announces your entry into the world of Rollei. And when you peer down into that big, waist-level viewfinder to see your subjects resolve into and out of focus, it really feels like you’re holding and operating a magical device.

So it looks and feels good, but how does this ancient camera shoot? To our modern hands, eyes, and ears the Rolleiflex is an alien machine. It cuts a daunting figure, but spend a few minutes with it and the Rolleiflex turns out to be one of the most intuitive and simple cameras out there.

Loading’s a little finicky because one must remember to feed the film under the first silver roller for the frame counter to work, but after that it’s all quite easy. Grip the camera with both hands and you’ll find that the shutter speed and aperture dials on the front face place themselves perfectly under the thumbs. Adjust them both and you can watch the shutter speed and aperture windows display your chosen values on top of the taking lens. Using the same grip, you can adjust focus with the conveniently giant focusing dial and snap your picture with your index finger placed on the shutter release located at the lower left hand side of the face. After you’re done snapping a picture, rotate the lever down and back, maybe flick the multiple exposure dial to the right and have some fun. Trust me, it sounds way more complicated than it is.

What’s truly remarkable about this control layout isn’t just how easy it is to use; it’s how well it’s integrated into the camera’s design. When we see a camera design as visually ornate and complex as the Rollei’s we usually find operation to be clunky and cumbersome.That Rollei managed to marry style and substance to create a fashionable, yet easy to use camera is refreshing, especially in our current age of anonymous, form-follows-function camera design.

And the Rolleiflex isn’t just a pretty face and an easy to use camera. Its technical capabilities more than match its good looks and easy operation. The camera’s Synchro-Compur leaf shutter tops out at a healthy 1/500th of a second and enables one second long exposures plus bulb and allows flash sync at every speed, making it useful for pretty much every situation. The shutter’s also incredibly stable and quiet, making low-light shooting possible even at speeds as low as 1/15th of a second.

But there’s another crucial aspect of this Rolleiflex’s tech specs, and one avid fans of the camera will probably berate me for leaving for so late in the review – the lens. See, this Rolleiflex isn’t just a regular Rolleiflex; it’s the Rolleiflex 2.8D. This is one of a small group of top-of-the-line Rolleiflexes equipped with the fastest glass available for medium format at the time of its release, and as with many legendary cameras, it’s these lenses that ensured the camera’s position as one of the great cameras in history.

The Rolleiflex 2.8D’s Carl Zeiss Planar 80mm f/2.8 is, without hyperbole, one of the finest lenses ever made for medium format. Closed down, it’s perfect for landscapes owing to its incredible sharpness and resolving power, and wide-open it delivers creamy bokeh and a depth-of-field that’s perfect for portraits at f/2.8. Marry these characteristics to a modern medium format film like Portra 400 and that means some seriously gorgeous scans and enlargements that show little to no grain at all.

It doesn’t just stop there; this Planar is a lens that renders in that classic, smooth way only the best lenses from the past can. It doesn’t over-sharpen or over-saturate; it’s perfectly balanced. Rendition isn’t just sharp and accurate – it’s timeless and beautiful.

From the above description this camera seems flawless, but the skeptic in me says that there must be some sort of flaw, some chink in the armor of the Rolleiflex. As it turns out, there is one, and it’s a real Achilles’ heel – the fact that it’s a TLR.

As attractive, well-made, and capable as the Rolleiflex is, its very nature as a TLR contributed to its downfall and makes it suitable today for only a few specific kinds of photo geek. Twin-lens reflex cameras are constantly afflicted by parallax error, which means that what you sees through the viewfinder will not be exactly what is recorded on the negative. Parallax error is negligible at longer distances but for close-up photography (portraits, still lifes, etc.), this can be a problem. Forget to compensate for parallax at close distances and you may end up with a lot of portraits with too much space at the top of the frame, or miss important details at the bottom of the frame.

Rollei tried to work around these problems with a couple of attachments and extra features. For the close-up parallax issue, Rollei offered lens-mounted Rolleinar diopters whose viewing lens attachment compensated for parallax. And while these did enable the Rolleiflex to enter the realm of super close-up photography, they still didn’t offer a perfect, streamlined fix for parallax error.

There’s also another problem inherent in waist-level viewing – the fact that the image is reversed horizontally. While one can train themselves to get used to tracking subjects backwards, it takes an incredible amount of experience and skill to capture fast-moving objects and spontaneous candids. Rollei tried to address this on the 2.8D with the built-in Sports Finder, a pop-out flap on the viewfinder hood which enables eye-level viewing through a small window. The underside of the flap also contained a mirror which showed the shooter the top portion of the blocked focusing screen to aid with focusing. But with an even worse degree of parallax error due to the higher position of viewfinder flap, this method is clunky at best and useless at worst.

What’s depressing is that at the same time that the Rolleiflex was perfecting all operational and design aspects of the TLR (perhaps with the exception of interchangeable lenses, which Mamiya and others handled later), the camera was being pushed toward obsolescence at an impressive pace. Though Rollei did all they could to keep the Rolleiflex relevant, it just couldn’t keep up with the technological advancements of the days that came in the shapes of the rangefinders and SLRs of the 1950s and subsequent decades. TLRs quietly faded from the public eye, with professional medium format photographers abandoning the Rolleiflex and moving toward more flexible Hasselblad and Mamiya SLR systems.

Today, the archaic and expensive Rolleiflex could easily be considered a hip toy for retro-obsessed millennials or a shelf queen for camera collectors. Few opt for the Rolleiflex as a workhorse camera (though some still swear by it). Good examples run about $800-900 on average, and they’re pieces of history that deserve preservation. I don’t fault collectors or casual enthusiasts for leaving the Rolleiflex home on a shelf at all; in fact, it may be a wise investment.

But for those courageous enough to use one in the field, what awaits might just be the most beautiful shooting experiences in photography. Every action comes with tactile pleasure owing to its precise and balanced design. Every shutter release is nearly silent, making stealthy street shots and thoughtful candids possible. Its waist-level finder offers an unusual (albeit slower) peephole to the world. Its fixed focal length of 80mm provides a versatile field of view well-suited to the portrait and landscape alike, and the insane sharpness and resolving power of its Zeiss lens ensures results as awe-inspiring as the camera itself.

After shooting the Rollei for a couple of months, I felt my initial skepticism and doubt begin to dissipate. The Rolleiflex really is a great camera. I enjoy it immensely. But what is it that places this camera over all others in such a hallowed place in history? Why does it elicit the rosy smiles of old photographers, the Portuguese lyrics, and immortalization on a country’s currency?

It’s a tough question to answer, and the answer may be just a little esoteric. The Rolleiflex is a wonderful camera to use, but it’s also a camera that can be used and loved by anyone. Photographers of the past loved it for its functionality and incredible image quality, and subjects surely loved posing for such a beautiful machine. Today it’s no different – most subjects I shoot with the Rolleiflex marvel at the camera and immediately open themselves up to being photographed. It’s one of those rare cameras that promotes a genuine connection with your subject. And when both subject and photographer are left stunned by the beautiful images made possible by the machine, it’s clear that the Rolleiflex deserves its legendary status, and a place in the arsenals of all photo geeks who prize quality and design above convenience and speed.

Want your own Rolleiflex?

Find one on eBay

Find one on Amazon

Find one at B&H Photo

Follow Casual Photophile on Facebook and Instagram

[Some of the links in this article will direct users to our affiliates at B&H Photo, Amazon, and eBay. By purchasing anything using these links, Casual Photophile may receive a small commission at no additional charge to you. This helps Casual Photophile produce the content we produce. Many thanks for your support.]

Josh Solomon

Josh Solomon is a freelance writer and touring bassist living in Los Angeles. He has an affinity for all things analog. When not onstage, you can find him roaming around Southern California shooting film and humming a tune.

All stories by:Josh Solomon
  • Wonderful review. Thanks.

  • Great article, thoroughly enjoyed reading that as I’m a big fan of a TLR. I have a Yashica D myself, mainly as it was so much cheaper than any Rollei I could find, Some great images in this too.

  • I paused after I read this review. For a moment forget about the camera. The way this review is written is truly superb. Engaging, honest and entertaining. There is so much fluff out their disguised as reviews that this site really stands apart. Excellent work Josh.

    Now to the camera.. I have the 2.8E version w/o the meter, and honestly I am having a hard time telling the difference between these cameras! What is for sure, is they all can take incredible pictures. I also have the modern GX and can confirm that the build quality does not compare to the series that ended at the Fs. The FX and GX series are just not built as jewel like, and are cheapened in ways such as omitting the ‘auto load’ feature. With them you have to line up the start mark on the film to an indicator on the camera. So my $2K GX is loaded just like my $20 Lubitel 166!
    Everything is smoother with the old Rolleiflexes, especially the shutter release, but where the GX and FX score are with their far brighter focusing screens and built in spot meter. I am nit picking here – you can’t miss with any of these wonderful machines.

    Thanks again Josh.

    • I don’t want to horn in on Josh’s article, and I’m sure he’ll give you many thanks for those kind words, but as the founder of CP I really want to tell you how much your comment means to me. I started this sight to provide exactly what you’ve described – reviews that are accurate, honest, and above all else worth your time. I’m so encouraged that there are people like you who appreciate what we’re doing and we’ll keep pushing to do more, better, and more often. Thanks again.

      • The reviews and the pictures with them are so breathtaking that I visit this website quite often and cherish the articles over and over again.

    • Wow, thank you so much Huss! That really made my day. As James said, it’s readers like you that keep us going. I’m glad you enjoyed article and are enjoying the site!

      I’ve always wondered about those newer Rolleiflexes. Disappointing to learn that the FX and GX don’t have the auto load feature. But as you said, you can never go wrong with Rollei. I doubt they ever made a bad Rolleiflex!

  • I’m in line to recieve one of these in the not so distant future. Holding it the other day I immediately realized that it’s construction and quality is far beyond any nikon or pentax I’ve ever held. It felt magical, I was flabbergasted. It’s smaller then I expected and so precise.
    Thanks for the review

    • Absolutely true. The Rolleiflex is on a completely different level in terms of build quality. Have fun with that camera and take good care of it when you get it!

  • Wonderful review! Incidentally, the Noel Coward song, “Why Do the Wrong People Travel?” has a reference to “the clicking of Rolleiflexes”. I first used a Rolleflex when I was a teenager, and wanted to photograph the elephants in Central Park Zoo. I attached the huge bayonet-mount flashgun, inserted a 5B bulb, did the distance/aperture calculation, set the lens, focused, and snapped the picture. The flash went off with a “boom!”, the elephant reared up on its hind legs, and sneezed violently. That was my introduction to available light photography.

    • I haven’t heard that particular Noel Coward song! I’ll give it a listen. And a sneezing elephant is as good an indicator as any jot to use flash bulbs!

  • Indeed, this is a living dinosaur which makes this pile of glass and metal so great.
    I have also never saw someone who didn’t smile seeing any TLR. It arouses good vibes.

  • This site’s reviews set the standard on the Internet: personal and insightful, with good information about the camera’s place in photographic history. I write reviews for my site, too, and yours are setting a high bar for me to clear.

    I’d love to test drive a Rolleiflex one day. I don’t know that I need to own one — I’d just like to try one. I wonder if there’s some sort of camera lending library someplace! 🙂

    • Thanks so much for the kind words Jim. Your reviews are fantastic as well – very personal and always with a perspective that’s different from the rest. About camera rentals, there is a company that does rent out older film cameras. I’ve looked into it a bit, and the process seemed a bit too complicated, but it’s possible.

  • Wonderful review for this iconc camera! I own myself a Rolleiflex Automat 3.5/75 Tessar, that my grandfather bought in the 1950’s, transmitted then to my mother (and all the pictures of my childhood were shot with this camera) before I inherited it and still shooting nowadays with this outstanding camera. So it’s not only a fantastic medium format camera, but for me also a important family heritage with a strong emotion when I use it…

    • Glad to hear your Rolleiflex has stayed in the family. Hopefully mine will get passed onto my grandchildren! And thanks so much!

  • I am thrilled to see new content on Rollei such as this fine review. My name is Jensen Hallstrom and i’m a Rollei shooter from Fullerton, California. My 2.8D has served me well for the past six years since i got it my freshman year of high school. Thank you, Mr. Solomon for this write-up and sexy close-up photos.

    • Thanks so much Jensen! Fullerton’s not too far off from LA. Shoot me a message on instagram @flashing_leitz if you’d like to shoot and geek out!

  • OK a little late to the party here, but I have to agree with most of these comments. There are so many fluff reviews of cameras on the internet, and even fluffier ramblings about the “feel” of film cameras that I always pass them by without a second thought. This review, however, so succinctly distills what it means to shoot with a Rolleiflex that I felt compelled to comment. Your writing is approachable, endearing, and beautifully descriptive. Oh, and some fantastic images too, by the way. Thank you for this; you’ve made me a regular to this site.

  • It is important not to conflate parallax and perspective issues when using a TLR at medium to close range. You don’t have a parallax dilemma with most Rolleiflexes (or Rolleicords, for that matter), because beneath the focus screen a pair of masks will slide up and down the screen as you focus in and out. These adjust your view to what the taking lens will cover at your focus distance.

    What you *will* have is a difference in the subject perspective you are recording, as a result of the difference in height of the viewing lens above the shutter (within the taking lens of course).

    At close range, you *will* image what you see in the finder. It will just be recorded at a different *perspective* to what you see.

    Long time TLR users will compensate for this on those occasions when it really matters. It’s simply a case of raising the camera slightly before the exposure, if you truly need to preserve the same subject perspective you see. Mamiya actually made a device for accomplishing just that, which they called a “Paramender” which, when fitted underneath the TLR (tripod mounted) would raise it by precisely the difference in distance between the two lenses. As a result, the desired perspective framed within the viewfinder would be perfectly preserved. Emulating this with a hand held TLR does require a degree of estimation but with experience can be accurately achieved.
    Brett Rogers

    • This is precisely correct: there are no parallax or framing issues. I’ve been using them since 2012 and not once noticed parallax issues, even with rolleinars 1-3. Framing has always been on point. Perspective may be subtly different but I’ve never been bothered by it. I can’t say the same for the framing accuracy of Mamiya 7ii or Leicas with close-up attachments.

  • Josh, nice mini-review. BUT, I think you may have short-changed the Rollei TLR: I owned (& regretfully sold!) a Rolleiflex 2.8F Planar & parallax was not an issue, as (at least that model, introduced c1958) it corrected via a moving mask what was depicted in the groundless viewfinder at focusing distances as close as about 3 feet or so. However, as others noted, the image ‘perspective’ IS different (& uncorrected) as one is closer to the subject.

    BTW: I would gladly re-acquire that stellar camera but have trouble imaging that given realities — digital cameras are more capable/versatile AND B&W 120 film is about $6 for 12 exposures, with another $15 or so for processing & scanning — make returning to a beloved TLR impractical.

  • Wonderful review,just one thing,too too too expensive!At lest 1.2K,Planar or Xenotar lens ,not too dirty。

  • Yes, that 2.8 is probably the sharpest MF lens ever made, based on actual tests, BUT you only get one of them. No interchangeable WA or portrait-length teles. That’s why I’ll keep my Mammamiya :).

  • The real Achilles heel of the Rolleiflex is the part that connects the film wind-on with cocking the shutter. With prolonged use, it wears and then the camera jams. Repair? about £800. The Rolleiflex was bought by the professional who put more films through it in a week than most amateurs did in a year. They did not use the leather cases as that would have slowed them down. Mostly thrown onto the seat of a car or bumping about in the boot. Now the Rolleicord (from 1933 onwards) was bought by the amateur. He saved long and hard for it. He saved some more for the leather case and strap. Even the lens hood had a leather case. He cosseted it. And it was treated very kindly. So, these days the Rolleicord is in far better condition, both cosmetic and mechanical. The winding and cocking the shutter are separated, so, whats not there cannot go wrong.
    I have a treasured Rolleicord IV (1953) with the Schneider Kreuznach Zenar lens. However, the earlier Rolleicords with the 3 element Triotar lens are now in great demand from portraitists who have discovered that it gives them a certain ‘something’ especially in mono. I derive a great deal of pleasure from my Rolleicord. It has someone’s name and address written inside the leather case. Somewhere in Florida!

    • Agree completely. I’ve been looking at Rolleiflexes for some time and had my heart set on one of the 2.8 models, but prices for clean ones were just more than I wanted to spend on something that would only see light and occasional use (digital is just too convenient).

      Then I started looking at Rolleicords. I bought a well-used though recently CLA’d Rolleicord III with the case in serviceable condition and not long after bought a recently CLA’d and immaculate Rolleicord IV with an aftermarket (and vastly brighter) focusing screen, in a like-new case.

      These things are great fun to shoot, and will likely last longer than I will.

  • It is pretty simple. I own a 3.5 Tessar C and a 2.8 Planar D. So often one reads about cameras making a better photographer. In my case the Rolleiflex is the only camera that lives up to it. It seems almost impossible to not find a lovely photograph when carrying the Rolleiflex, and more importantly, capture it. The Planar D works, but could use a CLA…….I can’t bear the thought of being without it. This, after only two months with the camera.

  • I don’t believe that anyone mentioned that the camera can be fitted with a prism that corrects the left-right reversal problem that you mentioned. The viewfinder can also be greatly improved by installing an aftermarket Maxwell screen, which is truly bright.

    • Antoine,
      the reason nobody has mentioned fitting a 2.8D Rolleiflex with a prism is because it was not originally designed to take one. Although a few owners have grafted various prisms or finders from Eg Hasselblad onto some older model Rolleis.

  • Prashant agnihotri August 9, 2018 at 2:30 am

    Halo, I am also a best photographer’s son ,now he is no more, but I have his best collection of photography equipments as – 3 rolliflex 120 cameras direct import from Germany , Metz chargeable battery (shoulder hang) flash, Nikon F2 ,Canon AE1 , Nikon FM2, Konica tcx camera & 2 vintage heavy standing wooden group cameras, 500 to 700 old photography magzines in new condition . Thanks to my dad that I have amazing reservior, thanks papa

  • Jay Dann Walker in Melbourne November 14, 2020 at 5:12 pm

    Indeed, this article ‘captures’ perfectly the Rolleiflex mystique as well as the technique(s) of using this fine and exclusive camera – as someone who has owned and used a Rolleiflex 3.5 E2 Planar since 1966, and now also owns two Rolleiflex T Tessars (the black body versions so late 1960s) and a fairly recently acquired Rolleicord Vb Xenar kit that came to me for a whoppin’ $A95 from a deceased estate sale, I related so well to everything Josh has written.

    Rolleis are not only legendary, but also wonderfully engineered and ergonomically thought out machines – only Germans could have produced this marvelous camera and the well matched line of accessories that came with it. I have almost all of these ‘bits’ and I still make good use of all of them with only one exception – the (ill) famed Rolleigrip, an odd thing that connects well to the bottom of the TLR but has to be held like a walking stick, which I found hindered rather than helped my creating images, so mine has been confined to a box in my camera cupboard and almost never gets used. The rest of my Rollei things are out and about with me whenever I take out my ‘flexes and ‘cord, which sadly nowadays is all too rarely.

    The one and only ‘downside’ with owning TLRs or for that matter, all medium format cameras nowadays is the horrible cost of 120 roll film, especially so in Australia where I’ve found the only affordable way to go on using my medium format babies is to buy expired 120 on Ebay. Luckily for me, I’ve owned a full B&W darkroom for the past 40 years which means I can easily and cheaply process my own films – a good quality scanner by Plustek has replaced my two photo enlargers which now lie mostly unloved in my darkroom, but I still have about 20 unopened boxes of fiber base paper keeping cool in my photo fridge, which means one of these days when it gets cooler outdoors, I’ll mix up a batch of chemistry and put in a few evenings to make prints, with pleasant music and a glass or two of good Tasmanian wine to keep my creativity ticking along. Truly, a good life!

    Equally sadly with the advent of quick and easy full frame digital cameras, my Rolleis and my 120 folding cameras from the 1950s, a Zeiss Nettar and a Voigtlander Perkeo I, see far too little use – I really must load them all and take the vow to go out with them while I’m still able to carry cameras and a few bits in a backpack (I’m heading into my 70s now and carting photo gear about, especially a tripod, is no longer as easy for me as it was even when I retired at age 65).

    There are still many truly wonderful things out there to be recorded with my TLRs – unlike when I use my D700 and D800 digi Nikons, film photography is almost Zen-like in its slowness and mindful approach to the fewer images I make – which to me is one of the greatest plusses of medium format film shooting, less is better. I will now end this mini story and leave you with my final thought – load up with films, get out there, and create while you can.

    With best wishes to all from Rollei fan(atic) Dann in Australia

  • All good in review, but focusing in these images is not so… focused…

  • Great review (as always on CP) and good to hear a different perspective on a camera I’ve known for so long. My Rolleiflex is a bit earlier 3.5C/E with the Xenotar lens rather than the “fancy” 2.8 Zeiss, but it is marvellous. I’ve owned it longer than any other camera I currently have – 36 years – and it will probably be buried with me. The image quality from the f3.5 Xenotar is every bit as good as that from the 80 f2.8 Planar on my SL66 or the 100 f3.5 Planar I use on the Hasselblad, if recognizably different. I love the relative lightness of the camera and how smooth quick and easy it is to work with. Images made with the camera are the only ones I’ve ever entered in serious competitions that have won anything… maybe says something?

  • I have a White Face 3.5F with Xenotar. It is a very gorgeous thing. I have some other nice cameras (a Contax S2b, Nikon F, the little Rollei 35S, ) but none of them fill me with the delight that handling, using (and just gazing at) the 3.5F does.

    I seem to recall Ivor Matanle wrote that he thought the 3.5 Xenotar was the best lens of all the Rolleiflexes. Certainly I really like what mine does and have never hankered after the heavier 2.8’s or a Planar.

    I had the prism for a while, but never cared for it, heavy and ruins the perfect balance… and you really need the pistol grip with that as well…

    In terms of build quality the esteemed UK Rollei man Brian Mickelboro says the F series was the culmination of Rollei engineering (he mentioned, as an example, that they used specifically individually sized screws for all the parts in cameras up to the F series – – rather than just standard ones bunged in everywhere in the later series…) I hope I haven’t over simplified his comments there…
    This is not to say I’d turn my nose up at a 2.8GX if I see one in Oxfam. Enough of this, time to get that White Face out for a cuddle…

Leave a Reply

Josh Solomon

Josh Solomon is a freelance writer and touring bassist living in Los Angeles. He has an affinity for all things analog. When not onstage, you can find him roaming around Southern California shooting film and humming a tune.

All stories by:Josh Solomon