The machines themselves are dying. The world’s supply of working Studer A80 and A820 tape decks is finite. The archive has a "parts organ donor" program: whenever a studio closes, they buy their broken tape machine just to strip it for pinch rollers and capstan motors.

However, you can hear the collection. Every time you listen to the 2019 remix of Let It Bleed , or the 2023 Dolby Atmos version of "A Change Is Gonna Come," you are listening to a digital clone of a tape pulled from this vault. The largest multitrack music collection ever assembled is more than a warehouse of plastic and rust. It is the sonic equivalent of the Rosetta Stone. In those 250,000 reels lies the truth of how music was made: the missed cues, the magic takes, the studio banter between songs, and the half-second of silence where an engineer lit a cigarette.

In the digital age, we often take for granted the ability to isolate a vocal, remove a guitar solo, or listen solely to the kick drum of a classic rock anthem. But behind every great song is a ghost in the machine: the multitrack master tape. For decades, these reels of magnetic tape—holding the individual building blocks of music history—were scattered across storage units, record label basements, and private attics. That is, until one man decided to bring them all home.

Because these tapes allow for remixing, surround sound upmixes, noise reduction, and the rescue of damaged recordings. Without the multitrack, history is locked in amber. With it, history breathes again. The Collector: The Man Behind the Tapes The architect of this monumental archive is Jody Klein (though depending on recent acquisitions, similar claims are made by the Iron Mountain Entertainment Services vault and private collector Glenn Korman —but for the purpose of this deep dive, we are focusing on the largest singular coherent collection recognized by industry archivists: the ABKCO Music & Records vault ).

For inquiries regarding licensing or research access to the collection, no you cannot. Please enjoy the commercial releases.

Imagine a painting. The stereo master is the finished canvas hanging in a museum. The multitrack master is the pile of 24 individual transparencies—each containing just the drums, just the bass, just the backing vocals, or just the cough at the end of the fourth take.