Tidal and Qobuz Get Busted for Allegedly Passing Off Worn Vinyl Rips as High-Res Audio

More audiophiles are reporting hearing cracks, pops, and surface noise on some “Master” quality streams.

High-resolution streaming is supposed to give you the best sound possible. But, some listeners have started noticing something strange. Tracks labeled “Master” or “Hi-Res” sometimes sound like they came from old vinyl records, complete with pops, clicks, and surface noise.

So what’s really going on?

The Vinyl Artifacts Hidden in “Master” Tracks

Tidal and Qobuz claim their “Master” and “Hi-Res” tracks deliver studio-level sound. But listen closely to some of these files, and you might hear something unexpected: the pops, clicks, and surface noise you’d normally get from a worn vinyl record.

One of the clearest examples is Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good” from her 1965 album I Put a Spell on You. On Tidal, the track bears a “Master” badge, yet it opens with the telltale noise of worn grooves.

And it’s not just Tidal. Qobuz has had similar reports.

One listener reported an ECM piano piece that sounded distorted and harsh in the highs, even though it was supposed to be a high-resolution stream.

In another case, a user said they heard clicks and pops in Qobuz’s high-res stream, but when they switched to CD quality, those noises vanished.

That’s a strong clue the high-res version was sourced from vinyl.

None of this would be a big deal if the tracks were clearly labeled as vinyl transfers. But they aren’t. Instead, they’re marked as “Master” or “Hi-Res,” which makes it seem like they come straight from studio tapes.

That’s why so many listeners feel misled. If you’re paying extra for high-resolution audio, hearing the same flaws you’d get from a beat-up record is disappointing.

How Streaming Services Source Their Audio Files

Most people assume that streaming platforms like Tidal and Qobuz carefully vet the quality of the music they host. But that’s not really how it works.

These services don’t create or clean up the audio files themselves. They rely almost entirely on record labels and distributors to send them whatever version is available, good or bad.

David Solomon of Qobuz summed it up plainly: the platform plays “whatever the labels send.” That means a track labeled “Master” could be a clean studio master, a newly remastered digital file, or even a vinyl rip if that’s all the label has.

That setup becomes a problem when the original master tapes are missing, damaged, or locked away.

For older albums, especially from the mid-20th century, some of the only surviving copies are vinyl records. So when you stream what’s called a “Studio Master” version, it might actually be a digitized record, even if it has surface noise or groove wear baked in.

And it’s not just a matter of what’s missing. Sometimes the digital version isn’t even the best one. Streaming files and vinyl pressings are often made from different masters entirely. That opens the door for well-produced LPs to outperform their digital counterparts in dynamic range and tonal balance, depending on how each was prepped and processed.

On top of that, some labels have started embedding digital watermarks that vary by region.

A case involving the Super Deluxe edition of Revolver on Qobuz revealed that listeners in different countries received subtly different versions of the same track. In one file, a watermark in the 2kHz range shifted the sound just enough to make it feel like an alternate master, even though it technically wasn’t.

Platform Responses and the Transparency Problem

People have been pointing out these issues for years, but neither Tidal nor Qobuz has been very clear about what’s going on.

Qobuz does have a system where users can report tracks that don’t sound like real 24-bit audio or seem to be upsampled from lower-quality files.

But even when people report these tracks, they often stay on the platform for months. Many listeners feel Qobuz cares more about building a huge library than checking if the files are actually high quality.

There’s no public list of corrections or updates, and it’s unclear how many of these reports are actually reviewed.

Tidal hasn’t said much either. The platform used to rely heavily on MQA for its “Master” tier but has since switched to using FLAC for high-resolution streams, which is a step forward in terms of format transparency. But the bigger issue hasn’t changed.

Neither Tidal nor Qobuz offers users any tools to check the true quality of what they’re streaming. You can’t see where a file came from, how it was sourced, or even confirm if it’s really 24-bit.

Meanwhile, their marketing hasn’t changed. Qobuz claims to deliver “exactly the sound from the studio recording.” Tidal still advertises “studio quality” under its Master tier.

But with mislabeled files, unexplained artifacts, and long-ignored user reports, many listeners no longer trust those promises.

Impact on High-Resolution Audio Market Credibility

Vinyl rips turning up in high-resolution streaming catalogs have done more than raise a few eyebrows. They’ve shaken the very foundation of what these services claim to offer: clean, studio-grade sound.

When people shell out extra for “Hi-Res” or “Master” tiers, they expect something better than standard. They’re paying for detail, depth, and accuracy; not the soft crackle of a worn record buried in a digital file. Once those flaws are heard, the trust starts to slip.

And for most listeners, there’s no easy way to check what they’re actually getting. There are no built-in tools for verifying resolution or source quality.

The audiophile crowd isn’t taking it at face value. Users have been comparing files, and what they’re finding tells a different story. CD and vinyl versions often show better dynamic range than the so-called high-res streams. That points to a bigger problem—these platforms might be using more compressed masters even in their top-tier offerings.

It’s created a growing gap between marketing and reality.

One listener broke it down like this: “Local tracks sound better than those streamed from Qobuz, which sound better than those streamed from Tidal.”

This kind of ranking shows up again and again in online discussions and listening tests. These aren’t rare mistakes either. Browse the forums, and you’ll see it happening across genres.

Reports describe odd EQ shapes, watermarking artifacts, and the telltale crackle of vinyl transfers. This isn’t a glitch; it’s a pattern. Large parts of streaming catalogs seem to be built on second-hand sources.

The bigger picture isn’t pretty. A service that promises “studio-quality” sound but delivers second-generation transfers is selling an illusion. Without a way to double-check or hold providers accountable, even the best intentions in high-res audio start to feel flimsy.

Right now, the only thing clear in this space is the need for real transparency.