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Issue 182

Always Something There to Remind Us

Always Something There to Remind Us

Frank Doris

Burt Bacharach has passed away at 94. This hits especially hard. Bacharach was a hero to me and one of the greatest songwriters ever – along with lyricist Hal David, he brought elegance, unexpected yet perfect chord and time changes, and sublime melodies to pop music. Songs like “Walk On By,” “What the World Needs Now is Love,” “Alfie,” “The Look of Love,” “Make It Easy on Yourself,” “I Say a Little Prayer” and so many others can only be considered masterpieces. Copper’s Rudy Radelic covered his career extensively in Issues 146, 147, 148, 149, 151, 152, and 153.

Another lost icon was Tom Verlaine (73), whose incandescent guitar playing and songwriting in Television and elsewhere inspired legions of new wavers, indie rockers and guitarists. Listen to “Marquee Moon” for a dose of utterly unique brilliance.

In this issue: Anne E. Johnson looks at the music of Irish rock band the Cranberries, and the chamber music of Gabriel Fauré. J.I. Agnew builds a custom vacuum tube spring reverb unit. I talk with blues master Otis Taylor, who has just released Banjo… on Octave Records. Andrew Daly interviews up-and-coming rocker Lexii Lynn Frazier, who can be heard blazing on Top Gun: Maverick. Rudy Radelic continues his series on CTI Records with a focus on sax players. Stuart Marvin spins a tale of Don Leslie and his whirling speaker contraption. Larry Jaffee reports on the vinyl manufacturing industry’s resiliency.

Harris Fogel relates his audio journey and has more photos from Capital Audiofest 2022. John Seetoo concludes his interview with Grammy-winning engineers Jim Anderson and Ulrike Schwarz and how they were able to remotely record a live album with soprano saxophonist Jane Ira Bloom. Russ Welton picks his favorite in-ear headphones. Tom Methans pays a visit to Treehaus Audio. Howard Kneller looks at cables from Hemingway Audio. Ray Chelstowski has a conversation with NRBQ founding member Terry Adams. The Copper A/V squad has an elevated response, does some plane listening, and goes on the road again.

Staff Writers:

J.I. Agnew, Ray Chelstowski, Andrew Daly, Harris Fogel, Jay Jay French, Tom Gibbs, Roy Hall, Rich Isaacs, Anne E. Johnson, Don Kaplan, Ken Kessler, Don Lindich, Stuart Marvin, Tom Methans, B. Jan Montana, Rudy Radelic, Tim Riley, Wayne Robins, Alón Sagee, Ken Sander, John Seetoo, Dan Schwartz, Russ Welton, Adrian Wu

Contributing Editors:
Ivan Berger, Steven Bryan Bieler, Jack Flory, Steve Kindig, Ed Kwok, Ted Shafran, David Snyder, Bob Wood

Cover:
“Cartoon Bob” D’Amico

Cartoons:
James Whitworth, Peter Xeni

Parting Shots:
James Schrimpf, B. Jan Montana, Rich Isaacs (and others)

Audio Anthropology Photos:
Howard Kneller, Steve Rowell

Editor:
Frank Doris

Publisher:
Paul McGowan

Advertising Sales:
No one. We are free from advertising and subscribing to Copper is free.

Copper’s Comments Policy:

Copper’s comments sections are moderated. While we encourage thoughtful and spirited discussion, please be civil.

The editor and Copper’s editorial staff reserve the right to delete comments according to our discretion. This includes: political commentary; posts that are abusive, insulting, demeaning or defamatory; posts that are in violation of someone’s privacy; comments that violate the use of copyrighted information; posts that contain personal information; and comments that contain links to suspect websites (phishing sites or those that contain viruses and so on). Spam will be blocked or deleted.

Copper is a place to be enthusiastic about music, audio and other topics. It is most especially not a forum for political discussion, trolling, or rude behavior. Thanks for your consideration.

 – FD


On the Road Again

On the Road Again

On the Road Again

James Schrimpf
A scene in Bisbee, Arizona. The Art Deco-style building houses restaurants and shops, including a bookstore which stocks some vinyl. Street musicians often play in Bisbee.

The Ears Have It

The Ears Have It

The Ears Have It

Frank Doris

There was a time when Nakamichi cassette decks ruled the world. Here’s a Nakamichi 550, made between 1974 and 1980. This top-loader offered Dolby B noise reduction and three mic inputs for recording in mono or stereo.

 

The 550 had a built-in test tone generator and tape calibration!

 

The 550 certainly lived up to this claim. Photos courtesy of Howard Kneller.

 

Grid emission tests influence the quality of vacuum tubes. Who knew? Radio and Television News, October 1951.

 

Look at the tonearm on this thing! It’s a Luxor Empire radiogram from 1948 with a 78 RPM record changer. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Erik Lindblom.

 

Now those are what we call hearing aids. Popular Electronics, August 1956.

 

Howard Kneller’s audiophile adventures are documented on YouTube (The Listening Chair with Howard Kneller) and Instagram (@howardkneller). His art and photography can be found on Instagram (@howardkneller). He also posts a bit of everything on Facebook (@howardkneller).


Connecting With Hemingway Audio’s Z-Core Power Cords

Connecting With Hemingway Audio’s Z-Core Power Cords

Connecting With Hemingway Audio’s Z-Core Power Cords

Howard Kneller

For the most part, I won’t participate in social media arguments concerning the efficacy of audiophile signal cables and power cords. Even when considering a binge-watching session of Keeping Up With the Kardashians, I am hard pressed to think of anything that’s a bigger waste of time. I will, however, stand my ground in my belief that the cables and cords from South Korea’s Hemingway Audio are impressive.

Outside of home audio, Hemingway and manufactures community antenna (CATV) systems, including repeaters and radio-frequency (RF) power amplifiers. Many audio products are said to be sensitive to the presence of radio-frequency and electromagnetic interference (RFI and EMI, respectively), both of which can adversely affect a stereo system’s performance.

Shown here is Hemingway’s Z-Core Σ power cord ($13,750, all prices USD per two-meter length). If you’re seeking to spend a bit more, the Z-Core Ω cord will set you back a whopping $29,500.

Not all of Hemingway’s power cords cost as much as a car. For example, the company’s Indigo 1 cord costs a relatively paltry $1,200. Further, Hemingway states that the price of each of its cables and cords is based on the difficulty of its manufacturing rather than the level of its performance. Also, according to the company, the right product mix for any given system might not necessarily include the top-priced cords.

One thing is for sure – the Z-Cores are among the most visually attractive power cords that I’ve photographed. And there’s no charge for looking.

 

 


These make a solid connection.

 


The power cords feature Hemingway’s patented FMCF (Frequency Modulation Cavity Fundamentals) technology, said to control the cords’ magnetic fields, current, and vibration.

 

 

 


The fit and finish is first-rate.

 

Howard Kneller’s audiophile adventures are documented on his YouTube channel (The Listening Chair with Howard Kneller) and on Instagram (@howardkneller). His art and photography can also be found on Instagram (@howardkneller.photog). Finally, he posts a bit of everything on Facebook (@howardkneller).


Lexii Lynn Frazier: A Young Guitarist’s Career Takes Off

Lexii Lynn Frazier: A Young Guitarist’s Career Takes Off

Lexii Lynn Frazier: A Young Guitarist’s Career Takes Off

Andrew Daly

These days, you’ll hear more and more guitarists shredding up and down the fretboard like the ’80s all over again. Guitarist/singer/songwriter Lexii Lynn Frazier can rip it up with the best of them, transposing the skills of 1980s rock guitar flash into the modern era.

Lexii hurtled into our consciousness in 2022 as she got the call to play on the guitar-driven score for Top Gun: Maverick. In short order, the 23-year-old’s six-string skills became apparent, and boy was the world listening as Top Gun: Maverick skyrocketed to almost 1.5 billion dollars in worldwide box office sales.

As for Lexii’s efforts, yeah, you could say the moviegoing public took notice, since the soundtrack was a hit, too. The young gun parlayed her early Eddie Van Halen worship into becoming a YouTube favorite, and signing a record deal at 16 and being asked to play on Top Gun: Maverick.

 

Now Lynn is looking at making her first record under her own name and leaving time for skateboarding and other extracurricular activities – all while having to deal with being diagnosed with aplastic anemia five years ago.

Andrew Daly: What first inspired you to pick up the guitar? Can you recall your first guitar?

Lexii Lynn Frazier: Eddie Van Halen and Guitar Hero. (Laughs) My first guitar was a $100 blue sunburst Epiphone from Best Buy that came with an amp, strap and so on. I had been saving my money doing different chores for my family members. I gave it to a fan a few years ago.

AD: What were the first riffs and solos you learned?

LLF: I think riff-wise, it was the main “Enter Sandman” riff by Metallica. It was [from] a Marty Music beginner tutorial or something that had popped up on my YouTube search page. The first solo I ever learned was pieces of the solo in “Panama” by Van Halen. I couldn’t play it in its entirety at first, and I kept learning it section by section as I started getting better.

AD: What five albums have shaped your career so far, and why? How is their influence reflected in your playing?

LLF: Four by Stone Temple Pilots. This is not only one of my favorite albums but also one that developed my love of versatile playing and melodic riffs.

Fair Warning by Van Halen. I’m a fan of everything Eddie Van Halen ever did, but Fair Warning was an album that inspired me to pick up a guitar every time I heard it.

Parachutes by Coldplay. This album inspired me to appreciate songwriting at its finest. This album sonically is ridiculous and got me really interested in production.

Off the Wall by Michael Jackson. If you ever have the privilege of hearing some of the isolated [guitar] tracks, you can hear how each guitar is perfectly layered. It is simple yet effective, beyond funky on its own, but it creates absolute magic when played together. This album made me appreciate the layers within songs and not focus so much on playing the most or flashiest notes but instead play effectively to fit what’s suitable for the song.

Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) by David Bowie. Like many before me, Bowie has always been one of my biggest influences. He’s also one of my biggest tattoos currently. (laughs) But this album is so bizarre and camp, spacey and unique. This album inspired my love of ethereal tones and out-of-the-box thinking regarding writing.

 


Lexii Lynn Frazier.

 

AD: Your love for Eddie Van Halen is well-known. How has his work influenced your own?

LLF: For a while, all I wanted in life was to be Ed. When I first picked up a guitar, I spent two years only learning Van Halen songs to the point where all I knew how to play was pieces of Van Halen songs. When I was younger, I’d try to copy everything he did when it came to tapping or dive bombs and all that. As I got older, I really started to appreciate his incredible rhythm playing and his ability to float between lead and rhythm flawlessly. His phrasing is genius. It inspired me to work hard on my right-hand abilities.

AD: Tell me about any original music you’re working on.

LLF: Being an artist [rather than a hired hand or session player] is a dream of mine that I’ve always had but have yet to fulfill. Right now, all I want in life is to release music I’m proud of. Writing songs in the past was very difficult – still is but was even worse back then – because I always expected myself to create the next big thing every time I wasn’t writing for the love of art, but with the expectation that it had to be something everyone would love.

Now, I enjoy layering different sounds together and letting the rest come to mind as I get inspired. I looooove stacking vocals too. My main goal is to create art that inspires me and makes me feel moved. Sometimes, I still get caught up in worrying too much about what others think, but that’s human.

 

AD: I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the Top Gun: Maverick score. How did you land the gig? With the original being so iconic, what was your approach to creating something that paid homage to the 1986 version while still being fresh and new? You were asked to contribute with little notice and they asked you to do it in less than a day!

LLF: I was the right person at the right place at the right time. I really would love to do more film work. It’s one of my favorite experiences I’ve had the privilege of being a part of. All credit goes to [film composers] Lorne Balfe and Hans Zimmer [who I first met when doing The Game Awards show one year]. I was so honored to be able to work with them to bring their vision to life.

AD: What guitars and gear did you use during the recording process?

LLF: I recorded on my 2015 MacBook Air through Logic Pro during the height of the pandemic in my bedroom; I had just turned 21, I think. I had a little Apogee Duet interface, some headphones, and my PRS SE Custom 24 [guitar with a] Floyd [Rose vibrato system].

AD: What are your next goals and how do you plan to make them a reality?

LLF: First and most important is getting my health in order. I’ve been battling aplastic anemia for over five years now, and it’s made touring extremely difficult for me physically. I’m on a slight break from everything at the moment to try and avoid having to have a bone marrow transplant. During this time, I hope I’ll be able to write some songs and release my own music sooner than later. I also skateboard, so a big goal for me is to get great at skating, too. (laughs)

AD: Being self-taught and unable to read music, what challenges has that presented, and how did you overcome them?

LLF: The only challenges I’ve faced with not being able to read music is being put in situations, for example, shows with orchestras or recording work – where I needed to read music. (laughs) I needed to know how to read music for a certain show and overcame my [inability by sitting] awake until the sun rose in the morning, searching what every single note looked like on [the] staff versus where it was on the fretboard, and recording piece by piece. Eventually, I just learned enough to figure it out over time, but the first couple of times were brutal. If I have a reference track, though, I can hear the notes and find them almost instantly and just use the sheet music to double check my work.

 


Lexii Lynn Frazier.

 

AD: What are your biggest takeaways from that experience, and how did this help you grow as you move forward?

LLF: It not only added another skill to the list of things I could do but also emphasized the importance of learning and being prepared to do anything I need to as a session and touring musician. Knowledge is always useful. Learning to read music helped me understand the fretboard in detail, making it easier to play.

AD: You’ve come a long way since the days in your bedroom during the pandemic. What guitars, pedals, amps, and effects are you using now?

LLF: I’ve got a lot of all of the above, but my main touring setup recently has been an Ernie Ball Cutlass and PRS Silver Sky [electrics], my Taylor GS Mini acoustics, the Fishman Platinum Pro [acoustic guitar preamp], Ernie Ball strings and capos, and my Kemper Profiler amplifier equipped with every sound and effect you could think of. Recently I’ve been using a dense hall reverb and a really nice chorus on my clean tones. It sounds amazing. I usually have an octave effect switched on for the overdriven stuff.

AD: Are there more film scores in your future?

LLF: This break from touring has been long overdue. I’ve been on the road since I was 14. I’m looking forward to regrouping and coming back stronger than ever. In the meantime, you can catch me streaming on Twitch and modeling occasionally in between. Besides that, I’m hoping to be happy, become healthy, and to get back to performing again eventually. And yes! I would love nothing more than to be doing more [movie] scores. I have this dream to star in and help write the music for a Netflix series one day too. I think that would be sick.

 

All images courtesy of Lexii Lynn Frazier.


Elevated Response

Elevated Response

Elevated Response

Peter Xeni

Don Leslie’s Whirling Dervish Speaker Contraption

Don Leslie’s Whirling Dervish Speaker Contraption

Don Leslie’s Whirling Dervish Speaker Contraption

Stuart Marvin

There are a few gentlemen in particular who deserve strong recognition for the development and evolution of several modern-day musical instruments.

Included in this distinguished group of instrument makers are fairly well-known names like Leo Fender, Orville Gibson, Laurens Hammond, William F. Ludwig, Friedrich Gretsch, and Adolph Rickenbacker. But none of these guys will likely ever be the subject of a Hamilton-style Broadway musical, especially with names that even Lin-Manuel Miranda would be challenged to work into a rhyming lyric. Mellifluous they ain’t (though a pairing of “Gretsch” with “Kvetch” could be the start of something big).

Another inventor with considerably low name recognition – despite having named his musical invention after himself – is the late Donald Leslie. That’s right, Mr. Leslie, an audio engineer by trade, invented the Leslie speaker system. [He was reclusive enough that we could not find an image of Leslie suitable for use in this article – Ed.]

For Copper readers who aren’t too familiar with a Leslie, it’s an unusual amplification and speaker system that takes a signal from an instrument – usually an organ, sometimes a guitar – and channels its sound through spinning rotors. It is best known as a pairing partner to the Hammond B3 organ.

If you’re still scratching your head about what a Hammond and Leslie can achieve sonically, here’s a few reference tracks to jog your memory: Procol Harum’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” “The Young Rascals’ “Good Lovin,” The Zombies’ “Time of The Season,” and the Spencer Davis Group’s “Gimme Some Lovin’.” Each of these classic songs features a memorable organ riff or bridge played through a Hammond B3 or L-102 and a Leslie speaker.

 

A vintage Leslie speaker system contains a 40-watt tube amplifier, a treble horn and a bass speaker, though components can vary by model. The bass speaker generally is either 10, 12 or 15 inches in diameter. The highs are produced by a rotating pair of horns and the lows produced by a bass rotor spinning in an opposite direction. On a dual-speed Leslie, the keyboardist controls the rotor speed via an external switch or pedal that can be changed from chorale (slow) to tremolo (fast). Newer models feature reverberation, triple channels, and rotating-cone speakers. By the mid-1960s artists discovered vintage Leslies weren’t loud or powerful enough for playing larger venues, so a solid-state ProLine was introduced.

For all its sonic beauty, a vintage Leslie isn’t going to win any design awards. Its cabinet is large, boxy and exceedingly heavy. It looks like an unfinished junior high school wood shop project (not to be confused with that spectacular lamp I crafted in 8th grade). Several Leslie models weigh in excess of 140 pounds, so it’s gear that isn’t particularly roadie-friendly. The late Gregg Allman frequently toured with two backbreaking Leslies, just in case one wasn’t functioning properly. Newer Leslie models are digital, smaller and far more transportable, though purists say they lack the imaging of vintage tube-based models.

 


A Leslie Model 122A speaker cabinet.

 

It’s been said that a “Leslie is to a Hammond organ what a scoop of ice cream is to hot apple pie.” Unfortunately, the relationship between the two companies initially, and for many years thereafter, did not reflect that metaphor. Laurens Hammond, founder of the Hammond Organ Company, held enormous contempt and animosity towards both inventor Don Leslie and his speaker system.

How bad was it between the two companies? Laurens Hammond instructed his engineers to switch the cable connectors on the company’s organs so they were incompatible with a Leslie. He also forbid Hammond dealers from selling Leslie speakers if they desired to continue working with his company. Commenting on their combative relationship, Don Leslie once said, “They tried to stop our growth any way they could. They badmouthed me as much as possible, which turned into a vast amount of publicity for both our company and our products.” Nonetheless, right from its humble beginnings, word of the Leslie’s stellar sound spread quickly throughout the music community.

There are several theories why Hammond so vehemently rejected both the man and his invention. Some say Hammond plainly didn’t like the sound of a Leslie, while others say it was a combination of “not invented here syndrome,” fear, greed, control, ego, and so on. That’s not all that surprising, as inventors are often protective of their inventions, sometimes to a fault.

When Don Leslie purchased his first Hammond organ he did not care for its sound in smaller-sized rooms, so he opted to create his own sound system. Leslie did lots of experimentation with motion and sound, ultimately leading to his rotating speaker design system in 1937. Leslie discovered that by splitting the signal of a rotating drum and horn, he could accentuate the device’s bass and treble frequencies. He characterized the design as “a combination of frequency and amplitude.” Leslie initially called his invention the Vibratone, then the Leslie Vibratone, and then ultimately the Leslie. The Fender Vibratone was introduced in 1967.

Although a Leslie is most closely associated with a Hammond B3, it’s been used with much critical and commercial success modifying vocals, guitars and other instruments. In fact, most musicians today would say that a Leslie is more of a sound modification device than a speaker or amplification system. You’d likely hear, “I use a Leslie speaker to change my sound, not to reproduce it.” Eric Clapton ran his guitar through a Leslie on Cream’s “Badge,” as did Keith Richards on the Stones’ “Let it Loose.” Jimi Hendrix played through a Leslie on the tracks “Little Wing” and “Tax Free,” with some debate on whether he used a Leslie or a Uni-Vibe effects pedal on several other songs, particularly in the latter stages of his recording career when he was prone to in-studio experimentation.

 


A Hammond B3 going through a Leslie. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/JacoTen.

 

The Beatles famously used a Leslie on John Lennon’s vocals on “Tomorrow Never Knows.” Lennon asked producer George Martin to “make my voice sound like the Dalai Lama chanting from a mountaintop, miles away.” You can say running his vocals through a Leslie achieved that goal (and more), given the track’s richly layered psychedelic sound. After learning about the intricacies of a Leslie, the ever-playful Lennon then asked Martin if hanging him upside down and spinning him like a top as he sang could achieve a similar sound effect.

 

On Led Zeppelin’s “How Many More Times,” Jimmy Page uniquely used a Leslie to create the song’s main guitar riff. Said Page, “My guitar is going through the (sound) board, then through an amp, which was driving the Leslie. Surprisingly, the sound has real weight. It was a very successful experiment.” A vast understatement, to say the least.

The ever-amazing Steve Winwood frequently plays a Hammond B3 and Leslie without a bass guitarist. A fair amount of Traffic’s earliest recordings consisted of Winwood on keyboards, Chris Wood on horns and Jim Capaldi on drums. Winwood played bass using his left hand and the Hammond B3’s pedalboard. Commenting on a Leslie’s different speed settings, Winwood has said, “When choosing between stationary and chorale (slow), I prefer stationary because it gives the bass more depth and solidity. However, when playing the organ with no bass (guitarist), I would probably utilize chorale.”

Chris Cornell used a model 16 Leslie with great effect to create the space-age guitar tones in Soundgarden’s classic “Black Hole Sun.” The late Rusty Young masterfully paired a pedal steel guitar with a Leslie with the country-rock band Poco. Just listen to the sound of Young’s pedal steel work on the 18-minute instrumental jam “Nobody’s Fool-El Tonto de Nadie, Regresa.” (Poco, 1970).

 


The inner workings of a Leslie inside a custom-made clear cabinet. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Hustvedt.

 

When automotive geeks seek to upgrade a car’s stock engine, they may look to add a turbocharger, or improve the vehicle’s airflow or its ignition timing. Similarly, musicians sometimes “hot rod” their Leslies by disabling its drivers, installing new capacitors, and/or replacing the system’s amplifier. Keyboardist Lee Michaels was a known “hot rodder,” asking his organ techs to beef up his Leslie in numerous ways. Just listen to the fullness of his live two-man studio recording of “Stormy Monday” (Lee Michaels, 1969), with Michaels playing a Hammond B3 (with Leslie) and his sidekick Bartholomew Eugene Smith-Frost (aka Frosty) on drums.

Of course, any discussion about a Hammond B3 and Leslie wouldn’t be complete without including the late organist Dr. Lonnie Smith. Smith melded jazz with funk, and over a long musical career he collaborated with a broad and eclectic range of artists, including George Benson, Gladys Knight, Dionne Warwick, Marvin Gaye, Etta James, Norah Jones and Iggy Pop. Smith self-anointed as a “Dr.,” not due to any medical or academic achievements, but rather as a statement of his musical knowledge and contributions to his craft.  He called himself a “doctor of music.”

 

On tracks that have a well-known organ riff or bridge, the Hammond B3-Leslie combination generally is front and center. On other tracks that I’ve cited, plus many others, a Leslie speaker is sort of an unsung hero, exhibiting its versatility in sound modification without the listeners’ knowledge or understanding of its specific application. In fact, aspiring musicians frequently grapple with replicating the sounds from a Leslie that many artists created with their in-studio recordings.

While the use of a Leslie as a sound modulation device has grown, the use of a Hammond organ in popular music has declined. This decline is due to a number of factors, including limited access and exposure to the instrument; lack of interest by up-and-coming musicians; a lack of qualified teachers; the growth of plugins and other electronic instruments, including digital pianos, synthesizers, Moogs, Mellotrons, and so on; and changing musical tastes. A Hammond organ is also, like a Leslie, very heavy and challenging to move physically.

 

After years and years spewing criticism and engaging in “foul play” (no pun intended), Laurens Hammond finally offered to buy out Don Leslie’s company, Electro Music, in 1957. What was Leslie’s response? I’m paraphrasing, but essentially he said, “Take a hike.” Leslie did eventually sell his company to CBS in 1965, and after the death of Laurens Hammond in 1973, the Hammond Company purchased Electro Music from CBS in 1980. Today the company is part of the Suzuki Music Corporation.

Don Leslie was a true visionary whose invention has influenced virtually every genre of music, including gospel, jazz, R&B, pop, rock and even hip-hop. Today there are many electronic devices, such as analog and digital pedals, that can emulate the rotary effect of a Leslie, but purists say nothing tops the sound of a vintage “whirling dervish” Leslie.

 

 

Header animation courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Berndt Meyer. Pictured: 1) Horn enclosure. 2) Compression driver. 3) Treble motor. 4) Crossover, 5) Bass motor. 6) Woofer. 7) Drum enclosure. 8) Drum. 9) Cabinet. Amplifier not pictured.


The Chamber Music of Gabriel Fauré

The Chamber Music of Gabriel Fauré

The Chamber Music of Gabriel Fauré

Anne E. Johnson

Sometimes all it takes is one outstanding teacher to release a young student’s artistic gifts. French composer Gabriel Fauré (1845 – 1924) found such a mentor in Camille Saint-Saëns at the music-focused boarding school that Fauré attended for 11 years in Paris. The result was not only a decades-long friendship, but also a compositional career so esteemed that, at the end of Fauré’s life, he was awarded the Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor, an award not usually given to a musician.

Fauré is probably best known today for his heart-on-sleeve orchestral pieces like the Pavane and the Requiem. However, it’s his chamber works that have been getting the most attention lately in the recording industry.

Among Fauré’s more intimate creations are a significant number of songs for voice and piano. Some, like “Claire de lune,” are commonly performed. But, until tenor Cyrille Dubois’s new release on the Aparté label, there had never been a complete recording of Fauré’s songs. Dubois is joined by his usual performing partner, pianist Tristan Raës. Even casual fans of French art song (or mélodies, as they were called in those days) will recognize famous gems such as the languid “Après un rêve,” Op. 7 No. 1:

 

Fauré wrote over a hundred mélodies, offered here on three disks. Because some were not composed for tenor, and a few were intended as vocal duets, Dubois and Raës undertook a bit of creative rewriting to allow them to perform all the songs. Those changes are not intrusive – perhaps they would be to a hardcore Fauré fanatic – and the duo has a pleasingly fluid style.

 

As Dubois explains in the booklet, they decided to organize the songs into three mixed recitals rather than chronologically. Given Fauré’s development as a composer throughout his long career, especially in terms of his more experimental late output when he was going deaf, it would have been fascinating to hear them in the order they were composed. Fortunately, the date for each song is provided, making comparison easier. Here, for example, is “C’est la paix,” a late work from 1919, only five years before the composer’s death, in quite a different style from the early “Après un rêve.”

 

Somehow Dubois also found time to participate in another Fauré recording project, this one on the Klarthe label. Fauré le dramaturge focuses on music he composed for theatrical settings, particularly incidental music for plays. These pieces would have been performed by a small chamber orchestra, as they are here by Ensemble Musica Nigella, under the direction of Takénori Némoto.

The track list is mostly instrumental music, including the famed Pavane in its orchestral version, which has a gossamer clarity when played by a small group instead of a symphony orchestra. Along with Dubois, soprano Cécile Achille is on hand to provide the few needed vocals. Her sound is light as air in the beautiful “Mélisande’s Song,” one of several selections Fauré wrote for a British production of the Maurice Maeterlinck play Pelleas and Mélisande. The play had been translated from French, and so the song is in English.

 

The Ensemble Musica Nigella frequently suffers from intonation problems, especially unfortunate given the rare, even unique, nature of some of the repertoire on the album; it’s not as if you can easily find another recording. There is one piece – the texturally and harmonically daring movements for a 1901 play called Le voile du bonheur – that has never been published.

Another little-known highlight is Fauré’s incidental music for Shylock, playwright Edmond Haraucourt’s 1889 adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. Conductor Némoto took on the task of “reconstructing” the composer’s original version for chamber orchestra, presumably lost.

Dubois sings a chanson as part of the Shylock movements. His delivery is, as always, like a river in springtime, flowing and sparkling. His presence even seems to improve the orchestra’s playing.

 

Fauré wrote a lot of instrumental chamber music with no connection to the theater. The 2022 album Horizons II, on Aparté, completes a two-part series of chamber-music recordings started in 2018. Two groups participated: a string quartet called Quatuor Strada and a nameless piano quartet (piano, violin, viola, cello) that shares its violinist with the string quartet.

Because he did not begin concentrating on chamber music until middle age, Fauré’s output in this genre is more intense, imaginative, and surprising than his earlier works. The works are not always easy to listen to, but they are always rewarding.

Written in 1887, seven years after his first Piano Quartet, the second one in G minor, Op. 45, was written without a commission, indicating that the composer simply wanted to explore that instrumentation further. He followed the format of his Germanic predecessors, Schubert and Brahms, by putting the slow movement in the third slot, right before the finale, instead of following the opening Allegro. But it’s that first movement, marked Allegro molto moderato, that establishes the importance of this work, both as a continuation of the Romantic tradition and as a challenge to the conventions of tonality (while never blatantly defying them).

 

The unnamed piano quartet relies on the rich, subtle playing of pianist Simon Zaoui. Violinist Pierre Fouchenneret, who is also in the string quartet, balances skillfully between passion and control. Zaoui also joins the complete Quatuor Strada for Fauré’s two piano quintets.

A pianist and organist himself, Fauré was never comfortable writing chamber music without piano. Thus, it wasn’t until the last year of his life, at the age of 79, that he finally tackled his one and only string quartet. By this point he was mostly deaf and, like Beethoven before him, responding as much to uncharted harmonies in his mind as to his musical training and experience. The plaintive Andante second movement is a good example.

 

 

Besides those compositions for four and five instruments, Fauré also created some for just two, some of which can be heard on the recent Works for Cello and Piano, released by the OnClassical label. Duo Simone Zaccaria is named after its two players: Gaetano Simone on cello and Maurizio Zaccaria on piano.

Fauré’s two sonatas for this instrumentation date from the last years of his life, meaning that they have his intensive late-period sound. To lighten the overall mood of the album, shorter, earlier works for cello and piano are interspersed between the sonatas, including Fauré’s own transcription of his song, “Après un rêve.” Another lovely example is the Romance in A Major, Op. 69, which Simone and Zaccaria play with elegance.

 

Still, the true stars of the program are the sonatas, full of tremendous, even severe emotions. The duo gives impassioned performances of both. Especially notable is the way each player’s individual sense of restless motion intertwines with the other’s. I did at times wish for more focus from Simone’s cello sound.

The composer’s hearing failed him starting with higher frequencies, so these works tend to feature the cello’s middle and lower registers, which only enhances their power. It took Fauré most of 1921 to write the Sonata No. 2 in G minor, Op. 117; he was delayed partway through by poor health. We should count ourselves fortunate that he managed to finish it.

 

Header image: portrait of Gabriel Fauré by John Singer Sargent. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Musée de la musique/public domain.


CTI Records Part 4: Sax (and Violins)

CTI Records Part 4: Sax (and Violins)

CTI Records Part 4: Sax (and Violins)

Rudy Radelic

Like any jazz record label, CTI Records was no stranger to saxophone players. The label had its share of talent, from established names such as Stanley Turrentine and Paul Desmond to up-and-coming players like Grover Washington, Jr. Here is a saxy sampling of some of these tracks, with a few of the tracks featuring Don Sebesky’s or Bob James’ orchestrations.

After all, one cannot have enough sax and violins in their record collection!

One of my favorite tracks in the CTI catalog is Stanley Turrentine’s take on a well-known song from Milton Nascimento, “Canção do Sal,” which is often translated to “Salt Song,” as it’s titled here. The lyrics of the song are about the grueling work of the salt workers located in Cabo Frio, and was inspired by current events in the mid-1960s when the salt workers went on strike to organize for better working conditions and were repressed by Federal troops as a result.

 

Joe Farrell was as busy as a sideman for jazz and pop records as he was with recording his own albums, and he had a handful on the CTI label. Among his first albums for CTI is Joe Farrell Quartet, which features Jack DeJohnette, Dave Holland, Chick Corea, and John McLaughlin, who penned the leadoff track on the album “Follow Your Heart.”

 

Paul Desmond, saxophonist for Dave Brubeck, had recorded a duo of records for Creed Taylor while the CTI label was still under the A&M Records umbrella (Summertime and From the Hot Afternoon). But this album, Skylark, seemed an unlikely combination with an unusual group that featured Jack DeJohnette and Ron Carter, along with a duo of guitarists (Gene Bertoncini on rhythm guitar, and Gábor Szabó as an electric guitar soloist) and Bob James on keyboards. Leading off the album is his reworking of the title track of one of his RCA albums – “Take Ten.”

 

Over on CTI’s sibling Kudu label, Grover Washington, Jr. had his share of recordings. On his album Soul Box, he gives a side-long reworking of the song “Trouble Man,” penned by his pal Marvin Gaye. Like most CTI recordings, the sidemen are all familiar names (Billy Cobham, Ron Carter, Idris Muhammad, Airto Moreira, and others), with Bob James (keyboards) and Eric Gale (guitar) taking lengthy solos.

 

Where Grover Washington, Jr. used a mix of soul and jazz in his recipe, alto saxophonist Hank Crawford offers a heavy dose of blues and funk on his Kudu album Help Me Make It Through the Night. The title track with Crawford, Richard Tee (Hammond B3 organ) and Cornell Dupree (guitar) soloing, lays the groove on thick.

 

As was common on many CTI albums, musicians who were leaders on their own albums also played prominent roles on their fellow CTI stablemates’ records. Percussionist Ray Barretto recorded an excellent album, La Cuna, for the label in 1979, and Joe Farrell provided most of the lead voicing for the album. His tenor was featured on two tracks (including “The Old Castle” which was included in our last CTI installment), his flute on another, and soprano sax on “Doloroso.”

 

CTI would occasionally pair up headlining musicians for an album project. Cherry pairs Stanley Turrentine with Milt Jackson. The album features Lee Morgan’s “Speedball,” with both Turrentine and Jackson having ample room to solo.

 

Finally, Yusef Lateef recorded a few albums for CTI, and this is apparently one that fans either love or hate – Autophysiopsychic. It is more deeply-rooted in funk than jazz, and the track below (“Look on Your Right Side”) features vocals. Still, Lateef and guest soloist Art Farmer get time for some solo breaks in this track.

 

Our next article in the series will highlight another instrumental category. Stay tuned.


Ulrike Schwarz, Jim Anderson, and Their New Paradigm for Remote Interactive Recording (With Jane Ira Bloom), Part Two

Ulrike Schwarz, Jim Anderson, and Their New Paradigm for Remote Interactive Recording (With Jane Ira Bloom), Part Two

Ulrike Schwarz, Jim Anderson, and Their New Paradigm for Remote Interactive Recording (With Jane Ira Bloom), Part Two

John Seetoo

Soprano saxophonist/composer Jane Ira Bloom’s Picturing the Invisible: Focus 1 recently garnered a Grammy nomination for Best Immersive Audio Album. Produced and engineered by multiple Grammy winners/nominees Ulrike Schwarz and Jim Anderson, Picturing the Invisible: Focus 1 was recorded in ultra-high-resolution 384 kHz/32-bit as a live jazz album with the musicians, amazingly, all recorded while communicating from their respective homes via the internet. The album features Bloom, percussionist Allison Miller, bassist Mark Helias, and koto artist Miya Misaoka.

Following a special immersive audio screening of Picturing the Invisible: Focus 1 that included an animated manipulation of images inspired by photographer Berenice Abbott at the Dolby Screening Room in Manhattan, Ulrike Schwarz, Jim Anderson, and Jane Ira Bloom spoke with Copper’s John Seetoo on the making of the record and the technical and logistical obstacles that had to be overcome. Part One of this interview appeared in Copper Issue 181.

John Seetoo: You’ve used Skywalker Sound for mixing many of your projects over the past decade, and if I understand correctly, Ulrike said that you enjoyed mixing there but thought that recording a project like Picturing the Invisible: Focus 1 would not have been as successful if you had done it there. Is there a particular reason? Is it the reverb chamber in their space? A configuration that would have made it less successful?

Ulrike Schwarz: One of the real success factors of Picturing the Invisible is that we were able to take it out to Skywalker to mix. I mean, if we had been able to record it there, of course, that would have been even better. But that was, for obvious reasons, not possible. The idea of what I tried to achieve in the recording was to get a three-dimensional sound of the instruments but kind of exclude the rooms they were recorded in, because we knew if we were able to get to Skywalker for mixing, then we would be able to play this back into the [live] chamber that we built – these two elements in the recording room that we turn into a reverb chamber each time we go there. And that would enable us to put [the recordings of] those instruments into this incredible room, the Skywalker soundstage. I think that is where the [sound] mixer comes in, and where the mixer does his magic.


Ulrike Schwarz and Jim Anderson. Courtesy of Cecile Vaccaro.

 

Jim Anderson: John, part of being a recording engineer and a mixer is trying and hoping to get basically “really good tracks.” So, if I had no idea of what it took to get this far, I would just say, “Oh, these are really good tracks, I can work with them.” And a lot of times in the recording studio, all we need is a good, quiet room. What we don’t need is an amazing acoustic; what we need is someplace that’s quiet that we can actually place microphones in. [Percussionist] Allison [Miller’s] room was good and quiet. Ulrike could make sure that the microphones were placed properly, and [thus] getting the proper signals that then could be worked with. And so, we were able to actually create very nice immersive images through placement of the overheads and some room mics, and things like that. Then with the spot microphones on toms and snare drums and kick drums and things like that, we could actually then make the whole thing work. And so, that’s the trick. It’s just trying to get a good sound source to begin with.

JS: You’ve successfully recorded and produced previous records with Jane Ira Bloom and garnered awards and critical acclaim for those efforts. Can you compare some of the modifications you approached in recording her soprano sax for Picturing the Invisible: Focus 1, as opposed to past collaborative records like Wild Lines or Sixteen Sunsets?

 


Jane Ira Bloom. Courtesy of Johnny Moreno.

 

JA: Between Wild Lines, Sixteen Sunsets, and Early Americans, I’ve been able to do what I would tend to call a “modified” Hamasaki square, which is a square of four microphones. Ulrike can give you the exact dimensions of what a Hamasaki square is. But basically, what I do is I put down a carpet, and Jane can stand in the middle of this rug. The four microphones are about six, seven feet in the air. And they’re actually kind of recording above her, and those [mics] are pinning down the four corners of the surround [sound field]. If I were to strip that away, you would then just lose the space of the room that Jane is in.

But again, I’ve got a room that’s big enough to accommodate all this sound that Jane is making, and I want to capture that. The thing was, she’s in an office, which is about maybe a third of the size of [a] recording [studio] room, or maybe even smaller, that we would normally work in. And so, as Ulrike said, I don’t really want to capture that space too much. So, in stripping down to the bare essentials of what it would take to get a good recording of the soprano sax – that’s really what I had to work with. From there, I could then put that into the surround components [of the mix] to make that kind of stand away from the speakers and exist in this acoustic space that we create.

Also, Jane has this kind of Doppler effect that she usually goes for where she moves, and you can hear the change in the pitch of the instrument. Normally, we would capture that with an extra pair of microphones. And here, what happens is [that] we don’t have those microphones and you actually just hear the Doppler of her going by the microphones rather than opening up a pair and really getting the full stereo effect. That is another thing that we would normally go for. But in this case, she’s kind of just making the Doppler effect with the standard microphones that she would normally have [and not the extra pair we would use].

US: Also, usually when Jane does the Doppler, she has nothing around her, [so] she actually has the space to do the Doppler. If she had done this in her own office, she would have hit all kinds of things. That would have been very violent for everybody. (laughs) She had a much more limited space in which she could work.

JS: Did you wind up re-amping the tracks when you mixed at Skywalker, or use plugins or other kinds of treatments?

JA: Not really. First off, the tracks are actually, as I said, well-recorded, so we [were able to concentrate] on the mix…the only kind of re-amping was using Skywalker’s soundstage as our live [echo] chamber. So, if you’re calling that re-amping, yes, we were kind of re-amping. But, it’s the way you would work if you were in any studio that would have a live chamber, where we’re sending [the track] to an amplifier [and] speakers; that’s then being sent into the room, and we’re capturing that room. What we do is set up a cube of eight microphones. There are four in a square, and then four above that square, and that’s giving us the height [dimension]. So we’re re-recording sort of something in the general plane, and then we’re re-recording four more [channels] in the height above that. That gives us all the space we need to work with.

JS: The next bunch of questions has to do with impressions that I got upon listening to the recording. Off the top of my head, and some of these may just be my imagination or some of them the result of the actual recording techniques you use to challenge listeners: Given the limitations of the rooms you recorded the musicians in, was there a conscious effort to expand the sounds of the instruments for the immersive mix? For example, the first track has a 3D effect of other percussion coming from a space of several feet away from the drums, and Ulrike said that was spatially accurate. But was it? Was that recorded intentionally for that effect? Or was that something created in the mix?

US: Yes, that was intentional. It’s definitely set up for the bells. I set up a pair of coincident microphones, especially for the percussion, that was placed over the drum kit. And then I also had a pair of more traditional overheads that were closer to the cymbals. The two pairs have a time delay between them, because they were apart from each other – a natural time delay. So, I’m kind of playing with those two stereo sources to create an immersive image. Over basically a left, center, left to right, from front to back and left to right, you get this 3D [image]. I have this little video of [Allison Miller] twirling around the bells in a circle, and the combination of those two stereo techniques actually really reenacts what she was doing in real life. And since we had all the spot microphones close to the drums [we could] place [them] basically in the plane. And then you can either choose to move those two stereo pairs a little bit to the, say, to the upper tier of the speakers, and work in combination with this upper layer of the reverb.

There are several ways you can do it. You can either just concentrate all the microphones or direct them in, let’s say, the plane, and only have the reverb work up there. Or you can use a little bit of the upper microphones of the overhead microphones on the second plane, and add reverb to that. And that of course, I leave up to the mixing engineer. But I think the idea of making this – turning the drum kit into a big three-dimensional object – was definitely our intention.

JS: The kick drum on “Walk Alone” sounds massive, like the inside of a timpani.

US: That’s actually the floor tom! That massive thing was the floor tom! (laughs)

JS: Did that sound just come up serendipitously, or did you plan to have that?

JA: John, that’s the natural sound of that drum in the room. And it’s one of those things when you hear it as a recording engineer, especially in the studio, you go, “Wow, look how wonderful we are, we can capture that!” The idea is, you kind of stay out of the way of sounds like that, and try to let them grow naturally. And, it’s an impressive sound as it is. Ulrike once mentioned to me, “most drummers usually aren’t traveling with their own drums when you have them in the studio. They might use what’s in the studio, what’s available.” Here, Allison is playing a drum kit that she knows very well. She has tuned it; she knows what it sounds like. And this thing is just optimized to the hilt for the sounds that she wants to create. So she knows that this is an amazing floor tom and she’s got it tuned, and it really just, it’s just our job to capture that.

US: And she likes hitting it. (laughs)

 


Allison Miller’s drum set. Courtesy of Ulrike Schwarz.

 

JA: Yeah. You know, and then when the kick drum comes in, it’s a whole other sound in that same range, but it’s another tone that comes in. And we’re just happy that we can get that; she has the sounds, and we can record them and reproduce them.

US: In Allison’s case, it was great to watch. She just had all of her percussion toys, like, flying around. And she would just pick up whatever was sitting [there] in that moment. For me, sometimes watching my recording was one thing, but actually watching her doing what she did was much more fascinating. Yeah, because I was actually sitting in front of her; in front of the drum kit when we recorded it, so that was amazing. You don’t get to see that, ever.

JS: Was that on the video also?

US: I think it is. I have one video where she was playing percussion and doing the toms and doing everything. I mean, I just kept it to show Jane later what was going on, on our end, because [Jane only] just saw Allison’s face [during the recording]. I had the whole thing in full sight and it was very impressive.

JS: How did you choose where you’d be located when you were recording?

US: That wasn’t my choice. I took my small setup to Jane’s [office] and was kind of remotely hearing this over my computer that was with the other [musician]. But I knew that the bigger setups would be at the other place(s). With Jane, I know she is very, very disciplined. So once we had set up the microphones and I basically made a chart of where she would be, and where all microphones would be, then she would not change anything.

But with the other [musicians], I had to take a lot more equipment. And I didn’t want to leave that too long in other peoples’ houses. So, I chose to travel to the more difficult setups because [I knew] Jane’s would always be the same, and I could just leave it there. But with Allison, I had to go to her practice basement and for Allison, that was a 10-microphone affair. And the bass also [needed] many more microphones and the koto was also something between eight and 10 microphones, so they were much bigger setups.

And to get [in communication] with Jane [from the remote locations], I also had to find out what their internet looked like. That was always the interesting and the unknown part – of how the internet would react and how everything would be. So it made sense that I would be in the other person’s location, in the external location.

JS: So, Jane’s side of the recording was under your control?

US: Yes, yes. I controlled her recording computer via TeamViewer from my computer.

JS: On “Picturing The Invisible” Allison plays a hypnotic pattern that’s repetitive on top of the cymbals. It sounds like tuned percussion similar to Indonesian gamelan music. Jim, I think you said you’ve recorded gamelan in the past. I was wondering, was this intentional, or again, another serendipitous kind of thing?

JA: I think it’s just Allison being a percussionist and coming up with those sounds. Again, as a recording engineer and a mixer, we are staying out of the way trying to capture what was there. Of course, we’re trying to be true to that tradition too, and to make it convincing, and to make it work sonically. But it’s really Allison coming up with these amazing sounds that just make it very easy to make us look like we are just the audio geniuses that we are. (laughs)

US: We also only did very few takes in that recording. We did, I think at max, two takes of every piece. And the second take was usually completely different [from the first]. When Jane and Allison decided that something was not the approach they wanted to take they would have a discussion about what they wanted to change, usually for like 10 seconds, and then they would do another take. And the one that was chosen was the one [that sounded like] gamelan. So, they made decisions extremely quickly. And very often, they also made them while they were playing. In that case, in the recording, we had nothing to do with it. (laughs) Again, trying to stay out of the way.

JS: So, everything was just straight takes? Nothing was comped together from multiple takes?

US: No, no, no. At most, we had one edit.

JS: Mark Helias’s bass sometimes sounds almost like a synthesizer at certain points when he was using the bow and playing staccato. Was that the actual sound? Or did you do anything to it while you were mixing?

US: We had a stereo microphone in front of the bass and a microphone at the fingerboard, and a tube DI (direct input). So between the mixture of those sources – that’s where the effects came from. But it kind of sounds like that. We didn’t electrify anything in order to make that sound. That was really what was going on. Of course, the microphones were very close, but they weren’t any closer than in a studio recording.

JA: If we had done anything that would have been unnatural to the sound, both Jane and Mark, I think, would have objected to it. But that’s really Mark manipulating the instrument to make it sound the way he thought it should sound at the time.

JS: Might he have asked for, say, “can you put a delay effect on this? This is what I hear in my head.”

JA: No, no. There are no plugins, there’s really no EQ and there’s no compression. These are all just natural sounds as you [would] hear them if [you were] sitting there.

 


Mixing at Skywalker Sound. Courtesy of Jim Anderson.

 

JS: One last question regarding the sounds. You mentioned there were eight to 10 mics on the koto. In the mix there are certain parts where the sound of the koto seems to be focused from beneath the instrument and some where the sound seems to come from above it, or farther back. Were those decisions made during panning the sounds, or was that a result of each particular mic picking it up louder for those certain passages? And did the dynamics of how the mics were picking up sounds dictate how the final mix went?

JA: As you know, the koto is a very complex instrument to capture, and Ulrike basically treated it like it was a small orchestra. There’s a coincident pair in the center of the instrument coming through in stereo. There’s a stereo pair in the middle, and [another] on the side, what we would call outriggers. Now, you would do that, basically, with an orchestra. You would try to capture the stereo in the middle, and then you would try to get the sides. And so [the koto miking was] essentially that. There were also a couple of other microphones below, because there are holes in the bottom of the instrument where sounds are coming out. So we made sure to capture all that. The [sounds from the bottom of the instrument] are the ones that go into the LFE, the low frequency effects channels of the surround [mix]. That gives you good [low-frequency] support. Essentially, the instrument is radiating very much all over the map, and the trick is to have microphones capturing every one of these places where sound is emanating.

US: I think there is one other thing that is a little unusual about this koto. Usually, you expect the koto to be about maybe a foot over the floor, and very much use the reflection of the floor [in a recording]. But Miya places the koto more at a marimba height and the reflections come at a different point in time and have also a very different pattern than if [the koto] had been just above the floor. So, I had to [compensate] with my microphones below; I actually elevated the microphones that were below the koto to [pick up] the normal reflection pattern. That was the only thing that was a little bit unusual about that setup, but it definitely makes a difference whether you have a koto one foot or three feet away from the floor. I thought in the mix it came away like a traditional koto, but it was a little bit tricky to get the microphones, especially from below the koto, to a place where they would give me what I wanted, what I thought I should hear from them.

JS: I asked because I’ve never heard koto recorded like that before.

JA: You know, there are probably very few recordings of koto in immersive [sound] to begin with.

It’s kind of fun to be leading the charge with Picturing the Invisible because here’s a chance to actually hear percussion instruments and soprano sax – jazz instruments – in a context and in a format [where they’re] not usually heard. And so that’s where we’re always trying to push to try to do something that’s a little bit different, a little bit unusual. And potentially, we hope there’s a market for that.

 

Jane Ira Bloom, Picturing the Invisible: Focus 1 album cover.

Jane Ira Bloom, Picturing the Invisible: Focus 1 album cover.

 

JS: As you’re both world-class engineers and producers, can you explain why you decided to ask Morten Lindberg to work with you on this project?

US: Yes, that’s actually a very good question. Morten Lindberg, first of all, we’re old friends with him. Second, we needed a mastering engineer. And of course, we love to work with Bob Ludwig. However, Bob Ludwig doesn’t have an immersive [mastering] room; he has 5.1. Since our task in this case was to have an immersive audio recording coming out of it, we decided to ask Morten to listen to the project at first, because he [had] built his new house in Oslo, Norway, and in this new house, he built this amazing state-of-the art immersive control room, in which he mastered this recording.

We asked him to take a listen to it and if he was interested in mastering it. Because, in my estimation, he is the person…and he loved the project and wanted to work on it.

Then, we also knew we had to get from our 5.1.4 channel-based master in 384 kHz to Dolby Atmos or something that we could actually sell. And [Morten] is, in my estimation, one of those people who knows the most about this translation.

And I think [he is] really on the forefront, because he talks to the Dolby and the Apple people, among others, [involved in the development of the immersive codecs] directly. We thought, if someone really can do this, it’s probably going to be him. I actually traveled to Oslo [to see him], and we were sitting there together and trying to decide on some of the parameters that had to be decided on. He is the person who turned it into [Dolby] Atmos, and he got the Auro3D encoding settled. And very, very importantly, he married the video to the audio.

We tried to license a science photo from Berenice Abbott as an [album] cover, but it was getting too expensive. So, I asked my friend Assen Semov in Berlin, who is a very, very talented 3D graphic designer, to kind of reinterpret one of those pictures. And he did that in a video rendering software but the cover of course, is a 2D representation of it. So while he was sitting there playing, we thought it would be really cool if that thing was going to just start moving. So we took advantage of the cover having been created in the 3D software and actually turned it into a little bit of a movie. It was very, very tedious and time-consuming work for Assen to render the time for the longest tune and then for Morten to turn the whole affair into a 38-minute movie with the chapters for each tune

So, the most time-consuming part of the mastering was marrying [the] video and audio and then turning it into the Dolby Atmos video with audio that it is now. Morten oversaw my stereo and the 5.1 mastering as well and then put it together with his 3D mastering and the video, so that now all formats can be sold on all streaming platforms.

JS: That leads to my next question: Picturing the Invisible: Focus 1 is available in a number of different audiophile formats. Since you had asked Morten to pretty much oversee the 3D format, outside of this format, were there any unusual challenges that you encountered?

US: Actually, no. What we have learned and what we have noticed is that the higher the [resolution of the] format you make the recording in – like in this case, it was 384 kHz –the better your masters at lower resolutions will turn out. Another reason to go to Morten for mastering was that he works with Pyramix, like I do. So he can actually handle the 384 kHz. I chose 384 (kHz) as the recording frequency to go with a multiple of 48kHz, and not as I did with Patricia Barber’s Clique and Higher, which was to go with a multiple of 44.1 kHz. For one, because we knew this project was going to end up in Dolby Atmos, which again is 48 kHz, and it would probably be married or maybe married to a video. So that’s why it was in the multiple of the 48 kHz universe. That makes lowering the sample rate down to 192 kHz very easy if you’re coming from 384 kHz.

What we learned was when I gave it to Bob Stuart (of MQA) to turn “Picturing” into an MQA [format], that there was actually [using] one [type of] encoding for the first seven tracks, and then another encoding for the eighth because it had two passes of double bass. The double bass was the only part of the recording that has a little bit of ambient noise and so a different overall noise pattern. Bob Stuart used the “white glove” approach and gave each track the best encoding available.

And so running it down from 384 kHz, of course, made it possible [to preserve the sound quality] when converted to MQA. It’s the first MQA title sold from a file in 384 kHz and it’s the first 384 kHz [jazz recording] sold on NativeDSD.com. The sampling frequency of 384 kHz [enables us] to show the world what Picturing the Invisible [sounds like] in that kind of high resolution, and also [enables us to] get on our favorite platform, Native DSD.com. By now, it’s also available on HDtracks, in 192 kHz and several DSD formats. Then, we have the MQA that unfolds back to 384, and the Atmos and Auro3D versions are on an immersive audio album.

It was actually very comfortable to give every service what they wanted in any quality that they could handle. I do have to keep track of about 12 different master formats. But it has been the biggest fun putting up all the [versions] on the different platforms and basically giving everybody what they want and what they can play.

JS: Are you planning to perhaps patent this groundbreaking ultra-high-resolution remote recording system? Would you choose to use it again in the future?

US: Well, my brother is a patent attorney and he told me if I have used this system in the open already, I cannot patent it anymore. So that option is unfortunately off the table. But, I am using my experimental recording laptop all the time, on every recording I do. If people don’t object fast enough, they will be recorded in 352 and 384 kHz. And even if [our clients] only asked for a CD master, we will have the fun of having working with excellent tracks. I think once you have heard it, you cannot go back. Right?

JA: It’s true. John, you know, over the last 10 years, we’ve been working at Skywalker. And I remember the first time we opened up the faders and heard Patricia Barber in 352.8 kHz. We just said, “Okay, now this is a beautiful recording of her voice and we’ve never heard it like this before.” And ever since then, in 2019, we really haven’t gone backwards in any direction.

JS: I was referring to a process patent for the particular method of how Ulrike and you recorded Picturing the Invisible remotely, in terms of the communications and syncing things up.

US: Well, again, since we used the open-source program [Sonobus], I think my patent attorney family would probably say, “well, if you would have not done that in the open, you idiots, then it would be possible.” I haven’t talked about it [with them].

JA: You know, John, the whole thing was brought up by accident, frankly. And unfortunately, this wouldn’t be a process that we would like to do. (Ulrike laughs.) We wouldn’t like to do it again, if we don’t have to. Which would mean the whole world would have to go back to lockdown again, and we would have to work in this direction. You know, it’d be great to be able to get people back into the studio once again and be communicating directly. But this [remote recording process] was really meant as a workaround of not being able to get people together, not being able to record in the studio, but still do it in the highest quality we possibly could.

JS: But this is much different from in the past when you’ve had other artists overdub tracks, since you’re doing live jazz as an interactive and improvisational thing in real time. I’m just thinking that certain musicians who…maybe they’re too ill to travel or can’t come into the studio for some other reason, but this way, they can still be recorded.

US: Right. In the university universe, there is a program called JackTrip, which is the one that I would definitely use the next time; JackTrip uses the internet in a different way. It basically can connect various people, even over continents. The way that it uses the internet is [such] that it can keep the latencies even between continents, to a [small enough degree] so that you can communicate to make music.

And the other thing I would say: I come from broadcast, and if all this had been done via [using broadcasting] networks, [it] wouldn’t have been really that challenging, except for the 384 kHz part on both ends. There are a lot of studios like [the one used for] Teldex Berlin, or others, that have high-speed internet connections all around the world, where people can actually record in different parts of the world together with them in Berlin. I think the amazing part of [our method] was to do it on regular consumer internet [rather than on a dedicated network and/or bandwidth]. I think it was a great exercise for the purpose that we had to use it for. But unfortunately, I think there’s nothing patentable about it. (laughs)

JA: And John, the other thing is [that] the way most people [have been] using the internet [for live remote recording] is they were perhaps working with a click or looking at a conductor and kind of phoning in their part and then somebody else puts it all together. This was actually [all recorded] live. That’s the [unique] thing.

US: I would like to refine the process in case we had to do it again. I’m certainly not used to Sonobus and I don’t really want to [use it again]. I think there are better [systems] out at this point. It is an interesting way to do it if you have to.

JS: This is the last question. Are there any other projects that you’re working on that you would like to disclose to Copper readers? I think I saw a press release earlier today mentioning that you’re designing a new studio in Canada.

JA: We’re working with the Hamilton Music Collective [charity]. They’ve asked us to come up and help them with a studio that they’re designing, so we’re kind of putting in our two cents to help them. The woman in charge is an old friend, and she’s asked us to go there and consult with them.

We also have the Nataly Dawn project, by Nataly of Pomplamoose. We mixed her album, Gardenview Immersive Edition, in immersive, [and] that’s just come out.

US: Gardenview Immersive Edition is the most commercial [release] we’ve done in “our world,” because it’s not classical, it’s not jazz, it’s Americana and independent pop, so that’s a new adventure for us.

JA: I think the other one that’s just come out is (Swiss flugelhornist and trumpeter) Franco Ambrosetti’s Nora. It’s also in 5.1 surround via SACD.

JS: Thank you so much for taking the time for us.

JA: Thank you, John.

US: Thank you very much.

 


At the 2023 Grammy awards: Jim Anderson, Taylor Perry (Shore Fire Media), Jane Ira Bloom, Ulrike Schwarz, Maria Gamper (Tiroler Goldschmied), and Amanda Bloom (Crossover Media). Courtesy of Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images for The Recording Academy.

 

Header image: Jim Anderson, Ulrike Schwarz and Jane Ira Bloom at the 2023 Grammy awards. Courtesy of Matt Winkelmeyer/Getty Images for The Recording Academy.


Clickbait Articles Belie Reality: The Vinyl Manufacturing Industry’s Resiliency

Clickbait Articles Belie Reality: The Vinyl Manufacturing Industry’s Resiliency

Clickbait Articles Belie Reality: The Vinyl Manufacturing Industry’s Resiliency

Larry Jaffee

New trade advocacy group, the Vinyl Record Manufacturers Association, is establishing best practices and standards

Two recent online articles ushered in the new year with headlines that the vinyl boom could be over because the record industry couldn’t keep up with consumer demand. The media loves these types of headlines for their pass-along potential in that they make good clickbait. But from my perspective, they are hardly rooted in reality.

“Did the Music Business Just Kill the Vinyl Revival?” makes generalizations based on faulty assumptions that fail to recognize the resilience and the massive undertaking to return in 2022 the format (which most observers thought was dead and buried early three decades ago) to the same 1 billion level it achieved in 1986, according to the Record Industry Association (RIAA). An article in TechRadar takes a more measured approach, though the headline reads like clickbait.

Those articles provide a simplistic view that would leave the impression the industry has come to a crashing halt. Nothing could be further from the truth, and the TechRadar article acknowledges the recent strides in improving vinyl manufacturing bottlenecks as existing large pressing plants have substantially expanded their capacity. In addition, new facilities around the world have started to manufacture records. These and other articles are based on sales reports from trade organizations and research companies that don’t disclose methodologies, but generally underreport the volume of discs being pumped out, compared with record industry organization Making Vinyl’s pressing plant reports.

These pieces also don’t address the mounting challenges the industry has faced in terms of materials shortages and subsequent price hikes, and global supply chain issues. Nevertheless, both brick-and-mortar record and e-commerce stores are full of new vinyl product, thanks to pressing plants working as fast as they can to pump out discs.

Misperceptions about vinyl that go viral also partly fuel the advocacy mission of the Vinyl Record Manufacturers Association (VRMA), which held its inaugural members’ meeting in December 2022 in Dallas, Texas. Hosted by nearby manufacturer Hand Drawn Pressing, the meeting was attended by 27 companies from across the globe and others involved in the vinyl record supply chain.

 


Packing records at Hand Drawn Pressing. Courtesy of Hand Drawn Pressing.

 

VRMA’s stated mission is to establish best practices “through collaboration, advocacy, standardization, and education,” and to “provide communications concerning various issues and opportunities related to other technologies that may emerge.” Perhaps that will include setting the press straight on what’s really happening.

The December meeting resulted in the creation of the QC (Quality Control) Training Manual, which is planned to be released within the first quarter of 2023. That document will be followed by a Press Operator Manual that pressing plants can use to train new employees, which should prove to be particularly useful for the number of new pressing plants and their employees’ learning curves. A member-helping-member program was also launched, where members of the organization can support each other with materials, immediate production assistance and even with supplying spare parts.

The VRMA comprises more than 30 companies from every level of vinyl production: record labels, lacquer cutting, electroplating, the steps before pressing and mastering the records, printmakers, equipment manufacturers, brokers, raw material suppliers, and even logistics service providers.

This nascent association, dedicated to the rebirth of vinyl pressing during the digital age, offers a spirit of cooperation that was not seen in the first decade or two of compact disc manufacturing. That era was characterized by backstabbing and price gouging among service suppliers, which is why the CD quickly devolved into a commodity that ultimately made profits not easily attainable.

“The CD industry was dramatically different [than vinyl] because it was also a price-driven industry,” VRMA executive director Bryan Ekus pointed out. Ekus and I co-founded Making Vinyl, the B2B conference focused on the rebirth of the entire vinyl business, not just manufacturing. “People were competing on [wholesale] price for tens of cents to get particular orders,” added Ekus, who previously ran the MEDIA-TECH Association, which was formed in 2001, well into CD’s lifespan. That group was more focused on new technology than cooperation.

VRMA intends not to make such a mistake, with a mentality that everyone wins and there’s apparently enough business to go around, while recognizing that the various players all face a lot of challenges.

“CDs came from a different thought process top-down from the majors than when vinyl came back up,” agrees VRMA president Dustin Blocker, co-owner of Hand Drawn Pressing. “Vinyl is very bootstrapped.” The eagerness to share information came out of it being a dying format for so long. “All the folks that were [still] doing it for all those decades were very excited to share information just to keep it alive because it was their baby. That’s carried to [all of] us now; it’s still not that big corporate animal. I think that’s what has given it legs from the community side.”

 


Inspecting a disc. Courtesy of Hand Drawn Pressing.

 

Blocker added: “What we do is so nuanced, and manufacturing records is so technically difficult on every level. Electroplating [for example] has so many challenges that pressing doesn’t have, and I would venture to guess that [about] printing and PVC (the material used to make records), and then making parts and molds. I think [cooperation on] things of that nature is much-needed. I see VRMA as being action-driven for the supply chain.”

VRMA’s press operator manual incorporates information from legacy pressing machines such as SMT and Hamilton, to current equipment suppliers Viryl and “How you make good records is not machine-specific. Holistically, you’re looking at [everything from] temperatures to how [vinyl] flows through a press, [which is] is not specific to a press,” Blocker explains.

VRMA’s QC manual identifies what causes particular problems or failures, such as warpage. The organization will also be building manuals around other areas, including electroplating and disc cutting, notes VRMA vice president Yoli Mara, co-owner of Welcome to 1979, a Nashville-based recording, mastering and electroplating facility. “We’re working on a grading system before the [records] go out the door,” Mara comments, adding that it’s helpful to be able to develop such manuals in cooperation with pressing plants, “so anyone on our team can have the same opinion on it.”

VRMA is also working with Making Vinyl on creating a SPARS-like (Society of Professional Audio Recording Services) coding system for vinyl that will help consumers determine whether the record they’re buying is truly analog cut from the original tape or mastered from a digital source, as well as identifying which plant pressed it. VRMA will be holding its next member meeting at the Making Vinyl conference in Minneapolis this June 7 – 8, where more information about such a coding system is expected to be announced.

Blocker points out that VRMA’s four pillars are collaboration, standardization, education, and advocacy. Regarding the latter, “sometimes you can’t stay quiet about it.” Depending upon which state is involved, advocacy could mean lobbying government. “In New Jersey, you have to have a boiler guy, but not in Texas. There are chemical restrictions that aren’t in Tennessee or Texas, or they can’t recycle nickel or PVC in certain states. As sustainability becomes a bigger issue, perhaps [these concerns will have to be addressed} on the federal level.”

An important area that came up in the Dallas meeting, Blocker adds, was the need for an ERP (Enterprise Resource Planning) system to “know where your stuff is in the warehouse.”

Another need for the vinyl industry at large is a better way to quantify the volume of records actually being produced, instead of the guesses that are often taken as gospel by the mainstream media.

Luminate (formerly known as MRC Data and SoundScan) reported 2022 sales of 43.5 million LPs, up 4.2 percent from 41.7 million in 2021. When asked about its methodology for reporting vinyl sales, Luminate offered this explanation:

“Overall Luminate works with more than 500 sources of data to include streaming/global streaming, physical sales and more. In physical formats we cover CD, LP and cassettes. The Vinyl store strata is broken into several categories that span digital and chain; anything that would end up in a Billboard chart in the US comes through Luminate and the main categories are…Chain , Mass Merchant, Indie, Internet Mail Order [and] Non-Traditional.”

What Luminate isn’t stating is that their numbers are based on estimates and weighted projections. To the media, 4.2 percent is perceived as “flat growth,” which is unlikely based on recent anecdotal evidence.

Both Luminate’s numbers for sell-through vinyl sales and those from the RIAA for vinyl shipments should also be viewed under the lens that because retailers cannot return unsold LPs, they’re extremely careful to buy only what they are fairly confident will sell with consumers.

“The big boys are battling each other, and they’re going to continue adding more and more [pressing machines],” said Blocker, referring to United Record Pressing in Nashville, GZ Vinyl in the Czech Republic, and Optimal Media in Germany, as well as other sizable operations. “Knowing the growth that’s happening in and around Nashville and Memphis, those guys alone are putting out more than what the stats are reporting, not to mention the 150 or 160 other plants globally,” Blocker said.

But to go back to those articles cited at the beginning of this piece, you would never know of the robust sales records being set, such as the RIAA’s estimated $1 billion spent in 2021 in the US on new vinyl, the first time that level was reached since 1986.

A more accurate pulse on the industry ran in the Winter 2022 issue of No Depression in an article titled “Vinyl, Interrupted: Roots Musicians Navigate Production Delays and Find Creative Alternatives,” reflecting the type of cooperation that the VRMA is building. The musicians interviewed, including Jarrod Dickenson, Rachel Sumner, and Andrew Duhon, as well as the pressing companies they’re working with around the country, emphasized the efforts that artists and manufacturers are making in getting their records onto their fans’ turntables.

 

Header image: inside Hand Drawn Pressing, courtesy of Hand Drawn Pressing.


Lounging with In-Ear Monitors, Part Three

Lounging with In-Ear Monitors, Part Three

Lounging with In-Ear Monitors, Part Three

Russ Welton

In our previous two articles (Issue 180 and Issue 181) we have briefly considered some of the factors which may affect the sound quality of in-ear monitors, aka IEMs, in-ear headphones, or earbuds. To recap, these entailed a good frequency response, a good physical fit and seal to prevent undesired bass leakage, and in the case of active noise-cancelling headphones, adequate noise cancellation that also does not detract from your overall listening pleasure.

To achieve these goals, we noted that it can be advantageous to use IEMs that fit deeply into the ear canal, or wear Comply Foam eartips, which gently expand to fill your ear canal to prevent sound leakage.

The Harman curve, a headphones frequency response curve derived from research by Harman International, was found to appeal to a majority of listeners as subjectively and objectively tested by Dr. Sean Olive of Harman engineering. We can use the Harman curve as a benchmark., Any deviation from it can be seen graphically, or in more detailed cases, in viewing the resultant error curve between a headphone’s frequency response and the Harman target curve. Of course, deviations from the curve can also be audible.

Regarding noise cancellation, a combination of both active and passive noise cancellation can provide a more balanced sonic behavior. By way of clarification, passive noise cancellation can include any non-active means of preventing external noise reaching your ear. Perhaps the obvious example is on-ear headphone earcups than form a physical barrier over the ear. They can reduce a large degree of unwanted sonic invasion. As pointed out by Dr. Sean Olive (see my last installment in Issue 181), passive-only solutions tend to favor cancelling more of the upper and treble frequencies whereas active noise cancellation is more effective at frequencies below 1 kHz. Dr. Olive’s conclusion is that a system which uses both passive and active noise cancellation covers the full frequency range and gives a more balanced and desirable result.

Taking stock of what constitutes a great IEM, I eventually decided upon purchasing the Samsung Galaxy Buds Pro. They have since been refined further by the introduction of the Galaxy Buds 2 Pro, which I have also tried out. The newer incarnation has a slightly more “clinical” clarity – call it less warm perhaps, but somehow for me they just sounded more “processed.” They also feature a change to the eartip design, which now accommodates upgradeable Comply Foam tips for a snugger fit and improved noise cancellation.  (Some of the other in-ears I considered are discussed in Part Two in Issue 181.) But hang on a minute, I hear some of you cry out in protest! How can I wind up with a generic Samsung Buds product and expect it to sound anywhere like a high-quality listening experience? Well, the simple truth of the matter is that Samsung has done their homework. Not only were the original Buds and Bud Plus models popular for a reason, but these later iterations are a huge step up in sonic integrity. Now, this is not to justify my choice, but rather to explain a little of my thinking process regarding how I came to enjoy the Buds Pro. They may not be for everyone but I do think that many will enjoy them, very much.

 


Comply Foam eartips. These have a “memory foam” exterior that conforms to the shape of the ear.

 

When you think of Samsung, your initial thought may be of TV monitors, or smartphones or tablets. Yet Samsung owns some of the world’s most prestigious audio companies, which have spent many collective decades in researching good sound and how to reproduce it. Samsung owns Harman International, which they acquired in 2016 to the tune of about eight billion dollars. Under their umbrella Samsung’s brands include Harman/Kardon, Infinity, Crown, dbx, Soundcraft, Austere, Arcam, JBL, Mark Levinson, Lexicon and Revel. Oh and of course, AKG! These are some thoroughbred horses to have in your audio stables.


Samsung Galaxy Buds2 Pro in-ear headphones.

 

Upon examining the response curve of the Samsung Galaxy Buds Pro, they have an average error curve of just 1.17 deviation from the Harman target curve. They also have a predicted preference of 88.42 percent. OK, other earbuds have “better” figures, but I thought I would give the Galaxy Buds Pro a listen and was not disappointed. I think they sound fantastic. There is warmth in the lower midrange and excellent definition in the upper registers. Male and female vocals sound natural despite the slightly warmer tonality, and they are never muddy or boxy sounding in the midrange.

There is nothing aggressive about the headphones’ overall profile. They have significant bass without being over the top, and they track the Harman target curve very closely while retaining something of their own personality. They are warm but in no way dark. If alternatively, you prefer a more typical “V”-shaped EQ profile, you may find that these Bud Pros are better-suited for your tastes. I find it hard to imagine that the Galaxy Buds Pro could ever become fatiguing to listen to. They do have a peak above 10,000 Hz which for me adds a very welcome sheen to the upper registers that complements vocals beautifully. That’s also a characteristic that I add to my home audio system and speakers using the built-in parametric EQ editor of my A/V receiver (with a narrow Q for the WQ).

Apart from the fact that I like the sound of these IEMs very much, their frequency response led me to another thought process. Given that there is this slightly warmer characteristic blending in up to and above 200 Hz (and smoothly tapering down after about 500 Hz) and the slight top-end emphasis, it occurred to me that I could both enjoy the Galaxy Buds Pro in their native state and in use with an amazing piece of software known as Wavelet.

Wavelet (available for free from Google Play) is an Android app that allows you to select from an extensive list of premeasured in-ear headphones, and then apply the app’s Auto EQ to map your IEM to the Harman curve. I was so impressed when I first tried this software out with a budget pair of Samsung in-ears that I knew I would continue to enjoy what the Harman target curve offers. So now, with the Galaxy Buds Pro I can choose to either listen to the sound of the Galaxy Buds Pro as they come out of the box, or with the Wavelet app EQ’d to exact Harman curve. This has the effect of taking out some of that bass bleed into the midrange, and calms the top end down just in that 12 kHz region. You also get to see the adjustment curve applied to your IEM so that you can understand a little more of what is happening to your tone shaping. For me, it’s the best of both worlds.

The Harman curve, a target frequency response curve for headphones. Courtesy of Jazz Times magazine.

The Harman curve, a target frequency response curve for headphones. Courtesy of Jazz Times magazine.

 

You may also use Wavelet to make additional EQ adjustments if desired, which can be insightful in training your hearing to identify what such EQ changes actually do to the Harman curve and the overall sound quality. In addition, more detailed EQ control is available at an extra cost in order to hone your tone with even more specific refinements.

For the icing on the cake, I use the Adapt Sound preset profile saved on my Samsung Galaxy Tablet, which accommodates for hearing loss, and the result is quite special. (For more information the Adapt Sound software and on how to test yourself, see my article in Copper issue 162, “Hearing Loss: now It’s Getting Personal.”)

I would be interested in your personal user experiences with in-ear headphones and the Wavelet and Adapt Sound software programs. Please give them a try and let us know your comments.

 

Header image courtesy of Audio-Technica U.S., Inc.


Artificial Reverberation in the Analog World, Part Two

Artificial Reverberation in the Analog World, Part Two

Artificial Reverberation in the Analog World, Part Two

J.I. Agnew

In the previous episode (Issue 181), we had a look at various types of analog-domain reverberation options for music production and recording. A couple of years back, during the “big move” (documented in Copper Issues 131 and 132) of my studio facility and workshop to a much larger building, as necessitated by rapid growth of the business and possibly prompted by the highly reverberant sound environment of a large empty building as the various rooms were being acoustically treated and insane amounts of stuff was being brought in, which resulted in a drastic reduction in the original reverberation of the empty shell, I was contemplating these issues. (An even bigger move may be in our future, as business has continued to grow to the point where we are now beginning to outgrow the building we had hoped would be big enough for a while.)

It was a historical contemplation, influenced by my observations of the acoustics of the new building, along with my experience of designing and constructing studio and laboratory facilities in different types of buildings in different countries, and of course my experiences with conducting recordings in different studios and on location over the years.

By the end of the move, I had decided to build a custom stereophonic reverb unit, exactly as I would want it for my own personal use, without much thought being put into the aspects of product marketability and perhaps even more importantly, pricing. I had a particular idea of what I wanted to do and was well aware from the onset that this would not be a marketable product that anyone else would ever want to buy (or so I thought). With that in mind, having often experienced the pressure of needing to conform to what the market would deem acceptable and reasonable, I felt fully at liberty to explore the outrageous, unreasonable and to some, even unthinkable in the present day. I simply wouldn’t have to worry about any of that. I had decided to design and build something that would only ever find application within my own facility, by myself and other like-minded individuals, who, contrary to “normal” people, have decided that practicality shall not be allowed to intrude into a creative workflow.

As stated in the previous episode, I have yet to encounter any form of artificial reverberation that could convincingly replace natural reverberation. If my goal in a recording is to capture natural reverberation, I can think of many places with outstanding natural acoustics where I can do that. There are very few things I hate more than a mediocre attempt at emulating something. That’s why I also firmly believe that if you want to capture the sound of a grand piano, you need a grand piano, a really big, heavy grand piano. Along with someone who knows how to tune it and service it. Yes, it is impractical and inconvenient, not to mention more expensive than your cheap plastic MIDI keyboard with a Concert Grand preset.

 


Vacuum tube spring reverb units being assembled at the Agnew Analog Precision Engineering Laboratory.

 

Don’t get me wrong; you can play with cheap plastic things in your bedroom all you like. But if you decide to conduct a recording, you are forever capturing something that is presumably worth preserving throughout history, defining a cultural heritage for future generations. If you really believe you do actually have something truly worthy of preservation, then do it properly. Get a grand piano if you have to, get a real Moog Modular synthesizer, get a good guitar, get a good drummer, or even get a Roland TR-909 drum machine if this is the type of music you are trying to make. But never forget that a Roland TR-909 is not a replacement for a drummer; it is an entirely different sound that defined an entirely different style of music where drummers are entirely absent. I am not judgmental about styles of music. I can appreciate the entire range from Whitehouse to Vivaldi, but whatever it is that you do, do it properly.

To illustrate this point even further at the risk of using a rather graphic example, Luces Abela, performing as Justice Yeldham, played a piece of broken glass as a wind instrument, often sustaining injuries on stage, much to the excitement of a bloodthirsty audience, perfectly representing the state of the world we live in. But he was using the highest-quality contact microphones one could buy, originally intended for piano recording, and which came in a very elegant-looking wooden case.

There are many wonderful, unique sounds created through the use of synthesizers and electronic keyboards. The Hammond organ (to return to our reverbly path) has established itself as its own genre with its unique, instantly recognizable sound. It is not a lower-cost replacement for a grand piano, nor will a cheap MIDI keyboard ever be a convincing substitute for a Hammond or a concert grand, nor will anyone ever make a grand if they can’t be bothered to use a real grand or a Hammond where needed. Likewise, I am not going to even attempt to make a bad emulation of a real acoustic space. That’s what real acoustic spaces are for.

 


Top view of a vacuum tube spring reverb unit.

 

If you need one, you need one. Much like the Hammond organ (whose creator, Laurens Hammond, was also the originator of the spring reverb concept), I see artificial reverberation as a genre in itself. It has defined certain styles of music, the whole spectrum from the good to the bad to the ugly.

Even though I personally absolutely hate it, who can argue that the incredibly fake-sounding and grossly exaggerated early digital reverb units, liberally applied to the “grand canyon snare drum” sound of ’80s pop music, did not define an entire era? Similarly, plate and spring reverb units have become embedded in various musical styles and time periods (for example, spring reverb and surf music) to the same extent that concert hall acoustics have defined Western classical music recordings.

In the next episode we will have a closer look at the design of these reverb units.

 


Vacuum tube filaments glowing in the dark during testing.

 

Header image: J.I. Agnew building the custom vacuum tube spring reverb units. All images courtesy of Agnew Analog Reference Instruments.


The Cranberries: Time Was Ticking Out

The Cranberries: Time Was Ticking Out

The Cranberries: Time Was Ticking Out

Anne E. Johnson

When Dolores O’Riordan died suddenly in 2018, the blow reverberated around the indie music world. She was more than just the lead singer of the Cranberries; her ghostly, emotional voice and raw, honest songwriting seemed to speak on behalf of an entire generation. But as essential as O’Riordan was to the Cranberries, it was the band as a whole that created such an effective platform for her voice that they sold 40 million albums during her lifetime.

The seed for the Cranberries was sprouted in 1989, in Limerick, Ireland, as a band called the Cranberry Saw Us, consisting of brothers Noel (guitar) and Mike (bass) Hogan, plus singer Niall Quinn and drummer Fergal Lawler. When Quinn left the band less than a year later, the others decided to search for a female lead singer. They certainly found a winner in O’Riordan. She was 18 years old and chomping at the bit for a band to write songs for.

Together they developed a rough, dark melding of techno, folk, and grunge. As it turns out, that’s exactly what a wide swath of young people, particularly in Europe, were aching for. Within a year they had recorded two EPs and gained the attention of some pretty big record industry people, including Rough Trade’s founder, Geoff Travis. After a few months of watching labels fight over them, the newly-renamed Cranberries signed with Island Records.

One reason for the success of their first album, Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We (1993), is producer Stephen Street, whose pedigree already included the Smiths and Blur. Street helped to ensure that O’Riordan and Noel Hogan’s original songs had a sound that supported their emotional candor. In the UK, this album was (and is) unusual for climbing the charts steadily but slowly for over a year and a half; it eventually reached No. 1.

The debut included two singles that quickly became emblematic of young listeners of 1990s: the melancholy “Dreams” with O’Riordan’s harmonies against her own voice, and the eerie “Linger,” sweetened by a string arrangement. The singles were co-written by O’Riordan and Hogan, but O’Riordan also wrote some on her own, including “Waltzing Back,” less accessible, more punk and idiosyncratic than their big hits.

 

The darkness of “Waltzing Back” was a harbinger for the grimmer sounds of their next album, on which they opted for the producing prowess of Bruce Fairbairn; he had made a name for himself in the studio with Blue Öyster Cult, Kiss, AC/DC, and others. The following year, the Cranberries released No Need to Argue, a success right out of the gate.

O’Riordan delved deeper into her personal life with songs like “Ode to My Family” and touched on her political views in the hugely popular “Zombie,” an anti-war elegy about the long years of violent conflict between the UK and Ireland. In an interview with Songwriting Magazine, she explained that a bombing in London that killed a little girl was the specific impetus for the song.

Less well known from No Need to Argue is “Daffodil Lament,” ethereal and disturbing, O’Riordan’s keening contribution to the genre of sad love song.

 

Fairbairn also produced To the Faithful Departed (1996), which would become the band’s highest-charting album in the US. On its original release, the single “Salvation” hit the top of Billboard’s Modern Rock chart. The most surprising aspect of the enhanced re-release of that album is the appearance by Luciano Pavarotti on Franz Schubert’s “Ave Maria,” with O’Riordan singing in a fluttery mezzo before the operatic maestro comes in with his muted trumpet of a tenor voice.

One of the most interesting songs from the original track list is “Electric Blue,” which starts in the style of a Catholic chant with a chorus in Latin asking God for help. The neo-medievalist style brings to mind Maddy Prior’s fierce singing of “Gaudete” with Steeleye Span.

 

O’Riordan needed a break starting in 1996. Stress and a recurring leg injury were making her ill and unable to perform. She also took time to have a child before the Cranberries regrouped to make Bury the Hatchet, released in 1999. It’s a particularly intense album, dealing with serious topics like child abuse. The only successful single was “Promises,” with a lyric about divorce and an unusually heavy rock sound.

Wake Up and Smell the Coffee followed in 2001, produced by their old friend Stephen Street. Except in the ever-reliable France, Italy, and Spain, where it reached No. 2, the album was not a hit. In fact, its lackluster performance prompted the band to leave MCA Records, where they’d been shifted after Island Records became part of a merger.

“Do You Know” is worth a listen for the way it flips relentlessly between major and minor. Minor wins out, of course; this is the Cranberries, after all!

 

Both O’Riordan and Noel Hogan wanted to turn their attention to solo projects. Mike Hogan opened a café, and Lawler found plenty of drumming work with other bands. This time, the Cranberries’ hiatus was to last for six years. But they came back punching in 2012 with Roses. Leaving behind the big-time labels, they went with British indie Cooking Vinyl, with Street once again producing.

Most of the songs had already been written and recorded for a 2003 album that never happened. Street had them make new versions for Roses. The singles, such as “Tomorrow” – about not overthinking – and the reggae-influenced “Raining in My Heart” did not have much impact on the mainstream industry, but the band’s long-time fans remained faithful.

“Fire and Soul” is an album-only cut, except in Russia, where it was released as a single. Cowritten by O’Riordan and Noel Hogan, it seems to urge an obsession into matching that wild ardor. The laid-back tempo belies the content of the lyrics.

 

No one had any idea that 2017’s Something Else would be the last Cranberries album released while O’Riordan was still alive. As a celebration of the band’s 25th anniversary, Something Else was a retrospective. Seven of its ten songs are acoustic arrangements of earlier numbers, including early hits like “Linger.”

O’Riordan’s leg injury continued to worsen, and she had to perform seated during the tour for Something Else. That chronic pain would turn out to be a lethal combination with her bipolar disorder and history of alcohol abuse. She died of accidental drowning while drunk in a bathtub in January of 2018. She was 46.

The surviving members called their final album In the End, working with Street one last time to present O’Riordan’s remaining vocal tracks to her shocked and mourning fans. In an interview with NPR after the release of In the End, Noel Hogan explained the tragic irony of her death: O’Riordan seemed to have turned a corner in terms of her mental health and had been looking forward to a new beginning.

That was the end of the Cranberries, appropriately enough. The band simply could not exist without the haunting sounds and haunted outlook of Dolores O’Riordan. Here’s the poignant “Catch Me If You Can” from In the End.

 

Header image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Fabio Diena.


An Audio Journey, and More Photos from Capital Audiofest 2022

An Audio Journey, and More Photos from Capital Audiofest 2022

An Audio Journey, and More Photos from Capital Audiofest 2022

Harris Fogel

One of the most interesting and revealing aspects of an audio show is how it forces one to consider their own audio journey. Mine was pretty simple. It started with simply loving music, the Rolling Stones in particular.

My parents had a Fisher solid-state receiver with a Garrard turntable and Shure cartridge in a large green console cabinet. It sounded great. It had large 12- or 15-inch single-driver speakers. We had the speaker surrounds re-foamed at one point. When I left to go to college my mom sold the system for $100, which infuriated me. She wasn’t tired of the stereo, but of the large piece of furniture. For her, the stereo system was indistinguishable from the furniture. It was just the thing that made music. There wasn’t any prestige in owning it, nor did she think of it as particularly valuable. Fortunately, I kept the albums.

One day in junior high school a friend brought over a cheap receiver, made by Craig, and by then I’d been studying up on how stereos worked, and had read that 90 percent of the sound was the result of the speakers. This little Craig sounded just terrible, really lousy, with the speakers at my friend’s house, and I wondered how would it sound if I hooked up to the big speakers in my parents’ console. I crawled inside the console, disconnected the speaker wires and connected them to the Craig receiver. And wham, it went from sounding like tinny junk at his house with the little Craig speakers to sounding kind of great. That was a huge lesson about the importance of speakers. I instantly understood while some of the people I met, felt the single most important part of a system is the speakers.

There were two gathering spots for audiophiles that I knew about. One was Absolute Audio, a store in Tustin, California a few miles away. Mike Moffat (Schiit Audio) was the repair and set-up technician there, and I have faint memories of meeting him. It’s where I heard the strangest speakers I’d ever seen – the Hill Plasmatronics. They had glowing plasma drivers, and tanks of helium gas nearby. They used a plasma arc “seeded” with helium from a tank. The arc did the highs and midrange and the bass was handled by a conventional 10″ cone driver. The guy there joked you could use them in the winter to heat your house. The other meeting place was Henry Radio, in Anaheim, which had lots of parts in the main part of the store, but on the other side was filled with fancy stereo equipment. I ended up thinking I could build a larger speaker cabinet for my small Fender Champ guitar amp, and figured, “how hard can it be?” Just buy a speaker, put it in a box, and hook up some wires. A guy there looked at me and said, “let me show you something,” and took me to the stereo showroom.

It became my first audiophile experience. It was around the time of the first dbx noise reduction system for vinyl, Tandberg cassette decks, and big, powerful Japanese receivers. Most importantly, there were these tall fabric-covered speakers unlike anything I’d seen, four feet tall and a couple of feet square at the base. They were the first speakers that I heard that gave me a clue that I had a lot to learn about electronics, recordings, and music. The guy demonstrated the dbx system (which got rid of vinyl clicks and pops), which I fell instantly in love with.

The sound was amazing. It came from all around, with none of that have-to-sit-in-the-middle feeling that I was used to. What I was hearing was the Thelma Houston I’ve Got the Music in Me Sheffield Lab direct to disc LP played through some first-generation Ohm Acoustics speakers with the original Walsh drivers. I was spellbound. I’d never heard anything like it. The guys in the store, probably after seeing my dad pick me up in a new Lincoln, were surprisingly nice to me, this little curious kid. A friend from the Orange County Amateur Astronomers Association (I really was a geek back then), Mark Merlino, (Qysonic Research), who held a patent for speaker design, and he took me under his wing. He visited Henry Radio with me and explained the Ohm driver technology upon which what I was hearing was based. He also gave me a Dynaco Pat-4 Preamp, which I still have somewhere.

Part of the magic was looking at a brochure for the Ohms, which described inventor Lincoln Walsh’s life and theories. It explained that Bell Laboratories’ theory for the ultimate sound reproducer was a round sphere floating in space. Walsh was trying to apply that idea to a practical speaker design. He surmised that a single driver element would allow audio to travel along a conically-shaped lower portion, with the high frequencies radiating from the narrower top portion and the wider bottom section reproducing the bass frequencies. It also described Walsh, aging and almost blind, bumping around his workshop trying to perfect his design, the brilliant inventor at the end of his life.

The speakers I heard were made not long after Walsh passed away in 1971. They had a 360-degree radiation pattern of sound that I’d never heard before. The guy at the store also told me they had problems with every amplifier they used with the speakers. Only a few worked without getting fried because the speakers were so difficult to drive. That was another lesson.

Seeing our hero, detective Hieronymus “Harry” Bosch listen to a pair of Ohms on episodes of Bosch (on Amazon Prime) brought back fond memories.

These memories were brought back by the delight of seeing so many open-baffle speakers at Capital Audiofest, from Arion Audio, Songer Audio, and Treehaus Audiolab among others. The idea of open-baffle speakers has always intrigued me, and companies like Magnepan and MartinLogan have been around for decades. However, I’ve always thought their performance was closely tied to the room they were in. Having said that, I’ve never lived with an open-baffle system and hope to audition some in the future.

I asked Ken Songer of Songer Audio about what led him to create new open-baffle designs, and he replied, “at the outset, it was my hope to produce two loudspeaker designs. The first is the ported bass-reflex enclosure S1 that you included in your CAF Part Two coverage. The goal of that loudspeaker was to showcase the performance that our 10-inch field coil driver can deliver entirely by itself, as a single point source with little or no interstitial electronics between the loudspeaker and the system.

The second design, the S2, was to be an open-baffle two-way loudspeaker that continues further to highlight the visual beauty of the driver itself, as well as the versatility of it applied in both box and open-baffle applications. We also wanted the benefit of appealing to both broad groups of listeners in our two designs – dipole fans, as well as traditional box speaker enthusiasts.” All of which I found fascinating.

For so many years the importance and function of the enclosure has been a semi-staple of speaker design. Look at Wilson Audio speakers, for example; they personify the attention paid to cabinet design and construction. On the other hand, I’ve been hearing all these great-sounding speakers that are essentially drivers in space, floating free. What a cool development. In my early days attempting to build my own speakers, I would listen to drivers that were just strewn about my workbench and room, and while they sounded OK, I always felt that they were just parts and would sound good only after I installed them in their boxes. Maybe I was wrong. Some of these new enclosure-less designs are among the best-sounding speakers I’ve heard, even in the far-from-ideal hotel rooms at audio shows.

Everyone has their own hi-fi audio initiation story, even those who don’t think they do. Maybe it was their first cassette player, car stereo, or Sony Walkman. I do think that loving music – really, really, really loving music – is probably a prerequisite, to becoming an audiophile. That said, there are always folks whose pursuit of “the best” is more aligned with conspicuous consumption and showing off to the neighbors and friends than actually caring about their possessions’ inherent qualities. I think that many of my most important experiences were with lousy systems in cars, played really loud with people I loved. The equipment really didn’t matter, as long as the time, place, and music were right.

I went to college in Humboldt County, California, and my first good stereo was the result of some students botching an exhibition of my photography, damaging it while setting up the exhibit. Thankfully the work was insured, and the State of California surprised me with a check a year later. This happened to coincide with our local stereo store in Eureka having ordered some audio components for a grower…um…agriculture specialist, who had to unexpectedly extend his stay in Mexico, leaving the store with some great gear they wanted to unload.

At the same time, Mark, another friend (a brilliant engineer and audiophile) who worked at Micropolis at the time, noticed on his drive to work in Northridge that electronics manufacturer GAS (Great American Sound) was having a going out of business sale. So, on her next trip to L.A., Nancy, my then-girlfriend (now wife) swung by and picked up a Thalia II preamp, while I used the rest of the money from the great State of California to purchase a Luxman PD-272 turntable, Hafler DH-200 amplifier kit, and a gorgeous pair of B&W DM2 II speakers with stands. Add in a Technics cassette deck and I felt like I finally had a real system. However, shortly after, the midrange drivers on the speakers started to separate from their surrounds, so I called B&W for help. Amazingly, they said to just get some glue and reattach them.

This kind of shocked me. I’d read the ads from B&W about their sophisticated laser alignment techniques, and here I had these brand new, state-of-the-art speakers that were falling apart. And they wanted me, a 20-year-old kid to reglue them myself. I found out who the president of the company was, called his office and explained myself. I told him I’d be happy to install new drivers, but I wasn’t fixing my own. He complied, and new drivers arrived – but then one of the speakers stopped working altogether. I’d heard something rolling around inside the cabinet, which turned out to be a heavy copper coil from the crossover. Out came the woofer, and with enough finagling, the crossover board. A bit of solder and glue, and the new drivers, and all was well. But it was an important lesson in quality control, holding your own against corporations, and figuring out how to fix things yourself.

The quiet and subdued British-sensibility sound signature of those speakers were wonderful for vocals, and years later turned out to be the perfect match when the first CDs arrived, with their overly harsh, sibilant and headache-inducing high end. Another speaker that worked well for me was the Advent 2. They were a unique and forward-reaching design with two different layers of hard plastic outside (with a white-finish exterior) with softer plastic inside providing acoustic damping inside. They sounded wonderful mated to Nancy’s NAD receiver and Magnavox/Phillips CD player, made in The Netherlands, which you could buy from Adray’s in Southern California for around a hundred bucks. Later, I found a store in San Diego that offered a kit to modify the electronics with new op-amps, caps, and RCA jacks, and voila, a star was born for another 75 bucks. Still have them, and they still sound surprisingly good.

My audio journey has also included a long stretch with my turntable having to go into storage. There was no way I could protect my precious table and Dynavector Ruby cartridge from two energetic, curious boys for whom “don’t go near daddy’s stereo” would never be accepted as anything but a challenge. It was bad enough that I found indentations from a pen in my JBL Creature speakers, which take a bit of doing to damage. But by the time my son Thomas discovered our carefully-packaged boxes of LPs he was old enough to look through them as buried treasure. Eventually we got a home theater setup, which taught me a lot about subwoofer setup and surround sound audio.

I was somewhat hesitant about having friends who were audiophiles, especially because of a friend in Humboldt County who was ever tinkering with his gear. Loosening a hex-head screw on his Yamaha tonearm, he’d marvel at the sound – for half the album, then readjust it for the last half. And I thought, the more I think about the gear, the less I listen to the music. The other thing that worried me was that the pursuit had turned me into more and more of a consumer, when the role I wanted for myself was as the creator, and I found the two were often at cross-purposes. As a photographer, I love my tools. I mean, a Leica in hand is an immensely powerful pocket rocket, so I’m just as absurd about beautiful things as the next gearhead. I can’t claim any Zen-like attitude in that regard.

While I was in grad school, I became really involved in digital audio, and headphones. I had roommates, so I had to keep it quiet, and I’d done mods to my Magnavox/Phillips CD player in the effort to squeeze better sound out of it, and with it’s built-in headphone jack I could embrace the new world of CDs. Years later, when the advent of high-resolution audio hit, it was a perfect storm. With the help of some good headphones, the new generation of DACs and headphone amps, I could hear music with a depth and clarity I’d never imagined, and best of all, Nancy wouldn’t be woken up by my listening. As our boys grew older, I could finally unpack the gear in storage, however, we quickly learned to turn the speakers to the wall so our cats couldn’t use speaker grills as their new scratching posts.

At Capital Audiofest, I enjoyed hearing gear that provoked the same reaction in others: “Wow, I’ve never heard that on that song before!” Among the many rooms where this took place was in one hosted by Dr. Edgar Choueiri, who in addition to being president and chief technology officer of Theoretica Applied Physics is a professor at Princeton University. After listening to the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds through his BACCH-SP “adio” digital spatial audio processor, Nancy said she’d never heard that album sound that way before, and we were both knocked out by the irresistible 3-D audio his creations deliver. It was that discovery thing all over again. Amazing.

I like that idea of discovery, and while I still giggle at some of the snake oil schemes that are always trending, attending a show like Capitol Audiofest is great fun, and it’s really gratifying to see the mix of young, old, and everyone in between enjoying themselves. Much like attending your first concert is a rite of passage, so can a show like this be important for budding audiophiles and music lovers.

Here are more photos from Capital Audiofest 2022.


Michael Van Voorhis (Finley Audio) was ready for a good time.

 


Andrew Quint (Stereophile), John Schaffer and Jonathan Derda (Mobile Fidelity) hanging out in the MoFi suite.

 


Jerred Dunkerson and Jaime Demarco of Black Ice Audio. Their room featured their Aries DAC/headphone amplifier, Fusion F100 tube monoblock power amplifiers, F35 integrated amplifier, F360 preamp and F159 phono stage, with the Pro-Ject Debut Carbon Evo turntable, all sailing through some wonderfully powerful Klipsch Forte IV speakers. I’m always curious how people connect in audio, and Jaime wrote to me that “Black Ice Audio is my passion. Jerred and I became friends when I was looking for a tube amp and the story grew from there.” Passion is what fuels the audiophile industry, and I’m so happy to hear this again and again.

 


Howard Kneller (The Listening Chair, Copper), Michael Levy (Alta Audio), Adam Sohmer (Sohmer Associates), and Adel Soliman (VPI Industries) enjoying the lobby air.

 


The chips were in during the VPI Casino Night party.

 


Word has it that the sexiest man in audio is Adel Soliman (VPI). Hearing this, the author’s dreams and hopes were crushed.

 


David Solomon (Qobuz) holds court with fans in the Arion Audio room, which was packed with amazing equipment. The only thing missing? Barbecue. Until chief cable polisher Mike Kalellis brings some high-quality North Carolina BBQ to his room, I told him there will be no more photos.

 


Nancy Burlan of Mac Edition Radio wearing the RAAL-requisite SR-1b True Ribbon Ear Field Monitors. She reported that while they looked a bit odd-slash-cool, they sounded great, open and airy.

 


Danny R. McKinney of RAAL-requisite demonstrated the SR-1b headphones running off the RME ADI-2 DAC FS, a 768 kHz D/A converter.

 


Dr. Edgar Choueiri, President and chief technology officer of Theoretica Applied Physics is also a professor at Princeton University. His BACCH-SP “adio” system has received great reviews for its audiophile-quality virtual surround capability.

 


This is the business end of the new Andrew Jones-designed MoFi Electronics SourcePoint 10 bookshelf speaker. That’s a purty cool-looking concentric driver if you ask me.

 


Richard Zhang (Awedyo Audio) and Danny R. McKinney (RAAL-requisite) are two headphone brothers in arms, dressed in that ever-popular “headphone gray” audio style.

 


Paul Elliott was at the show in a dual capacity. Most attendees met his warm smiling face at the registration desk, while other times his long background as a photojournalist were evident when he put on his photographer’s hat.

 


People loved shopping for vinyl and CDs. Here is an overhead view of the well-stocked and organized Direct Audio booth.

 


Rich Pinto of TreeHaus Audiolab took some time to look over the lobby, in a rare break from greeting fans in his room.

 


An overhead view of the lab-coated Eric Watson (with the hat) and Charles Kirmuss demonstrating and answering questions about the Kirmuss Audio Record Restoration System.

 


Rich Pinto (Treehaus Audiolab) and Tim Lukas (Matterhorn Audio) were enjoying the fresh mountain air of the Swiss Alps together in the Matterhorn Audio room.

 


Mytek Audio was showing its new, glowing Ganfet Empire monoblock power amplifier using Gallium Nitride technology. Their new Empire streamer was also on hand. The music sounded great in the large dark room. The satellite/subwoofer speaker system was from JMLab. It was a reminder that as much as we like to pretend that speakers have gone through “radical” changes, the reality is they haven’t. Refinement, nuance, yes. But we have had great speakers for many years.

 


Greg Takesh looks contemplative while taking a brief breather in the GT Audio Works suite.

 


Stax pioneered electrostatic headphones in 1936, and are still considered the gold standard by many. Douglas Ip was on hand to demonstrate their latest models.

 


Taking a moment out to teach a class on “GanFET amplifier technology with triode-like sound,” it was time for Michal Jurewicz (Mytek) and Alberto Guerra (AGD Productions) to give a lesson on how they approach using GanFET devices for audio reproduction.

 


You never know who’ll you might bump into at Capital Audiofest. Here are Rich Pinto (Treehaus Audio), Grover Neville Part-Time Audiophile), Eric Franklin Shook (Part-Time Audiophile), David Solomon and Jay Truitt (20/20 Evolution Systems). We voted Grover the Best Hair award at the show.

 


Valerio Cora of Acora Acoustics welcomed visitors with his SRC-1 and SRC-2 two-way loudspeakers featuring granite enclosures. We loved the white versions as well as the black, and the sound was precise and open. Granite is of course is extremely rigid, ideal for attenuating unwanted enclosure resonances.

 


Here’s a detail view of a driver in the Songer Audio two-way, open-baffle, dipole S2 loudspeaker.

 


Tomas Andugar (Architectural Acoustics) and Randall Kress of Alma Music & Audio give the author the tough audio guys treatment.

 

Header image: Devin Bowler (CD Cellar) and Carolyn Albert (Orpheus Music) with a happy customer holding a MoFi pressing of Stevie Ray Vaughn’s Couldn’t Stand the Weather. Their booth was constantly filled with folks seeking rare and hard-to-find pressings.


NRBQ: Not Playing Around With Tiddlywinks

NRBQ: Not Playing Around With Tiddlywinks

NRBQ: Not Playing Around With Tiddlywinks

Ray Chelstowski

NRBQ has always been a band that rock insiders considered to be the best in the game. Founded in 1966 as the New Rhythm and Blues Quartet, they have had famous fans like the Rolling Stones and Bonnie Raitt, and each NRBQ member has spurned offer after offer to leave the quartet and join one or the other of the world’s biggest bands. But every musician who has ever rounded out the foursome has put this act and the music they celebrate first. NRBQ’s rare mix of rock, country, jazz, and Tin Pan Alley has kept their live act one of the most sought-after tickets year after year. Here in New England where I’m based, their music remains the soundtrack to summer.

My buddy Matt got me into them in college and once “the Q” grabbed me they never let go. I’ve seen NRBQ perform in many locations, in various configurations, and every time I’ve walked away from the show further amazed at how far the band is capable of taking their exceptional repertoire of songs.

Their catalog has a sweet spot. The five-year span between 1978 and 1983 might have been their richest run, where NRBQ seemed to deliver records that were cohesive, colorful, and creative in a way that incorporated the band’s unique sense of comedy and selfless collaboration. One of the finest examples of this is 1980’s release, Tiddlywinks. It was their eighth studio album and featured Terry Adams (keyboards), Joey Spampinato (bass), Tom Ardolino (drums) and Al Anderson (guitar), plus The Whole Wheat Horns (Donn Adams and Keith Spring). The singles “Me And The Boys” and “Never Take The Place Of You” quickly became fan favorites and remain set list staples to this day. The album also ushered in an unlikely partnership with pro wrestling impresario Captain Lou Albano, who became the band’s ambassador. It was a turn that would come to define the 1980s for NRBQ and elevate Captain Lou and NRBQ to more visible national heights.

 


NRBQ, Tiddlywinks, album cover.

 

Now, over four decades later, Tiddlywinks returns, remastered and expanded with tasty extras. Four bonus tracks are added to the mix; “I Don’t Think Of…” and “Big Goodbyes,” recorded during the Tiddlywinks sessions and released on 1983’s Tapdancin’ Bats collection, plus the radio and TV spots originally issued on the flip side of the “Never Take The Place Of You” 7-inch single.

The reissue also features updated artwork and liner notes from original engineer Tom Mark (who had worked with the band on At Yankee Stadium – in keeping with the band’s sense of humor, it’s not a live album). I personally like how those [liner notes] open with an image of the original “Me And The Boys” lyrics, jotted down on a note pad from a Holiday Inn in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. It’s a testament to this band’s endless commitment to the road and to their fans.

We caught up with NRBQ founding member Terry Adams about why this record stands apart, what he loves most about the music they made in this memorable session at Bearsville Studios in upstate New York, and how the ever-changing band lineup keeps the material fresh and surprising.

 


NRBQ at the time of recording Tiddlywinks. Courtesy of Kirk Kume.

 

Ray Chelstowski: Bonnie Raitt is one of your band’s biggest fans and famously covered the track “Me and the Boys” from this very record. Were you as surprised as she was that she just won the Grammy for Song of the Year for “Just Like That?”

Terry Adams: That’s good. She deserves it! That’s just great!

 

RC: The re-release contains the TV and radio spots that were created to promote the record’s release in 1980. Was that always part of the plan for the Tiddlywinks reissue?

TA: It actually happened at the last minute. They were working on the music and I remembered that ad and located it on a different format. I sent it to someone and they transferred it just in time to make this re-release.

With those ads we “invented” Captain Lou [Albano] within the music industry. That was our idea and my brother Donn wrote that ad. Back then no one knew who Captain Lou was unless you were a wrestling fan. He was great for us.

 

 

 

RC: There were three songwriters in the band’s lineup at the time. How did you decide which songs made the final cut?

TA: On Tiddlywinks these are the songs that the other guys wrote. They had a couple of songs each that they brought to the sessions and they sounded great. It was that simple.

RC: The Whole Wheat Horns with your brother Donn on trombone are there once again. How did you decide where they fit best?

TA: Well Donn is on a lot of songs on this record. You don’t necessarily hear him on each of the songs but he’s there. He plays on “Feel You Around Me” and a bunch of other cuts. He snuck in on a lot of them and some are obvious, like “Music Goes Round and Round,” because they require horns.

RC: “Music Goes Round and Round” is the only cover on the record. How did it make its way onto the album?

TA: I got the idea to do that song after we had done it a little bit in person and it “did good,” people really enjoyed it. That’s all that mattered. It didn’t matter who wrote it, whether it was one of us or someone else.

RC: Tiddlywinks was your first record on a smaller label after having left Mercury Records. Did that allow you more creative freedom?

TA: We had all the room we needed on the label before this. They may have had a bit more money for the production but it was the same band. We didn’t change because we changed labels; at least in this case (laughs).

 

RC: You’ve recorded most of your albums at Bearsville Studios. What do like most about that room?

TA: Well for starters, it was near where we lived. That was the main thing. Then we became friends with [engineer] Tom Mark who worked there for a while and recorded us a lot. That and being close to home was enough for us.

RC: Is there anything that the current band lineup allows you to do with these songs that surprises you?

TA: They’re all pretty loose. All I can tell you is that when we’re playing an old song we’re playing it “in the now.” We’re not trying to imitate anything. We just go with how it is at the moment, and sometimes that ends up sounding the way it used to. It’s just all about how we feel right then. This is a band of personalities. That what I like most about being part of a band; where four different personalities express themselves and put themselves directly into the music.

RC: Musician Klem Klimock is often your band’s live concert secret weapon. How did he begin working with NRBQ?

TA: He can do anything. Klem used to do sound for us way back in the day, and we’d invite him to come and play with us on the last song. He’d come and go and over time he started to play the horn a lot more. Now we pretty often have him come out with us. Lately he’s been playing accordion which has been pretty great.

RC: How has your live keyboard setup evolved over the years?

TA: Well, the clavinet [keyboard] has been around since we started. It’s [really] a stringed instrument and I play it like a guitar more than anything else, so it’s got a really important sound. The other instrument I play is the piano. We used to take a grand piano with us all of the time but we had to stop that because the one I have isn’t what it used to be. So, I use a fake digital piano and the clavinet. The other instrument I carry is the [Yamaha] DX7 [synthesizer] which is just for fun; you never know what’s going to come out of it.

 


NRBQ today. Courtesy of MP Ball.

 

RC: After 50-plus years of touring, is there one room that’s your favorite to play?

TA: We play a room called Fitzgerald’s in Chicago that’s just a down home sort of place to play. It’s actually where we’re playing next. We feel good in there. But we like every place we play because it’s always different. We don’t have a system that makes the sound the same from room to room. That keeps everything challenging and fun.

RC: What do you love most about Tiddlywinks?

TA: The whole album is so organic. It all comes together really well and it just has a sound. Every record is different but this is even more so. It has its own healthy organic sound that really hangs together. It has its own punch which is why I thought it would be worthwhile to bring it back, even though it’s older than we actually realized. To me it sounds really fresh, like it was released a month ago. It doesn’t have a “big studio” sound to it. It just sounds clean. I like that!

 

Header image courtesy of John Krucke.


Blues Master Otis Taylor Releases Banjo… on Octave Records In High-Resolution Audio

Blues Master Otis Taylor Releases Banjo… on Octave Records In High-Resolution Audio

Blues Master Otis Taylor Releases Banjo… on Octave Records In High-Resolution Audio

Frank Doris

Octave Records has released Banjo… by blues master Otis Taylor. One of the most compelling blues artists working today, singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Taylor is the winner of five DownBeat awards, and Living Blues, W.C. Handy and other awards. He has spent a lifetime creating his signature trance blues style, rooted in blues and blues/rock yet reaching far beyond with mesmerizing grooves and deep improvisations.

Banjo… features six new songs and five reworked versions of old favorites. The album embodies Taylor’s powerful musical style and unflinching lyrics. On Banjo…, Otis Taylor sings and plays acoustic and electric guitars, acoustic and electric banjo, harmonica, and other instruments. He’s accompanied by his long-time band mates: J.P Johnson (lead guitar), Nick Amodeo (electric bass, mandolin), Brian Juan (Hammond organ, piano, and Chuck Louden (drums). While tipping its hat to what’s gone before, Banjo… isn’t a standard 12-bar blues album – Taylor isn’t shy about letting a one-chord John Lee Hooker-style groove take hold, or use unconventional instrumentation, like the surprisingly effective Moog synthesizer on “Travel Guide” or the cellos (courtesy of guest musicians Beth Rosbach and Joseph Howe) that underpin “Little Willie.”

 


Otis Taylor. Courtesy of Cory Richardson.

 

Banjo… was recorded in pure DSD 256 at Octave Studios in Boulder, Colorado. Octave’s facility utilizing its recently-upgraded recording chain, based around a Pyramix digital audio workstation. The album was produced by Otis Taylor and associate producer Joe Kessler, recorded and mixed by Jay Elliott, and mastered by David Glasser.

Otis Taylor delves deeply into past stories and current concerns. “Write a Book About It” offers a grandmother’s advice to her Black grandson: watch what you do. “Travel Guide” finds a world traveler wanting to bring his lover home to New Orleans.” In “12 Feet Under,” which showcases Taylor’s acoustic guitar and banjo playing in stunningly clear, up-close-and-personal sound, a good man sits down with the devil. “Resurrection Blues” is devastating: Taylor literally puts himself into Jesus’s shoes, while J.P. Johnson absolutely rips up the guitar. Though the album is at times harrowing and always intense, it ends on a wise note on “Live Your Life”: enjoy what you’ve been given, and take time to laugh.

Banjo… features Octave’s premium gold disc formulation, playable on any SACD, CD, DVD, or Blu-ray player. It also has a high-resolution DSD layer that is accessible by using any SACD player or a PS Audio SACD transport. In addition, the master DSD and PCM files are available including DSD 256, DSD 128 and DSD 64, DSDDirect Mastered 352.8 kHz/24-bit, 192 kHz/24-bit, 96 kHz/24-bit, 44.1 kHz/24-bit, and 44.1 kHz/16-bit PCM. (SRP: $19 – $39, depending on format.)

I talked with Otis Taylor about the release of Banjo…

Frank Doris: The obvious question: why did you call the album Banjo…?

Otis Taylor: It’s not a banjo album. The banjo is just a name for the attitude. The history of the banjo follows the history of African Americans in this country, coming over on the slave ships with the banjo, and playing in the fields, and the minstrel shows, and Jim Crow, and playing the blues.

FD: Lyrically this album really gets down to the nitty gritty. You don’t pull any punches.

OT: (laughs) I just report stories.

FD: Were you thinking of an overall theme for the record, of Black history in America? Or did it kind of evolve?

OT: Well, I tend to do that anyway. The last album was like that too. I’m 74, I’m kind of just doing the things I feel, you know? I’m better at Black History than white history.

FD: The feeling, you really get it on this album. It just grabs you. This is heavy.

OT: That’s what I kind of do. The good part is that sometimes critics like it, but sometimes it’s a little too much for people.

FD: Maybe the world might be more ready for it now. Everybody’s been through a lot with the pandemic. The world situation today is not inducing a lot of calm in people, you know? Maybe they’re ready for a dose of reality.

OT: But this is what I’ve always done, you know? Few words…I don’t put in a lot of words, I don’t have choruses in my songs.

FD: A lot of the songs are one chord or a couple of chord kind of grooves.

OT: Trance blues.

FD: Right…you’ve always been into that.

How did you get started playing music?

OT: I started playing at 15. The Denver Folklore Center was four blocks away from my house. That was Harry Tuft’s place.

FD: You went to London for a while in the 1960s, got a record contract that didn’t work out, came back, and quit the music business in the late 1970s. But then you returned to performing in the 1990s and have recorded more than 15 albums since, and won all kinds of awards and had your songs on movie soundtracks.

How did you wind up getting connected with Octave Records?

OT: Through Gus Skinas [Octave Records’ mastering engineer].

FD: Did you record Banjo… at Octave’s new studio?

OT: Yeah, I did.

FD: You did. Because the sound is fantastic.

OT: I was happy with the sound.

FD: On “12 Feet Under,” where you’re doing a duet with yourself with banjo on the left and guitar on the right, the sound is really exceptional.

OT: It was a little too clear for me for the guitar, because of such sensitive microphones. But when the banjo came in, it was perfect.

FD: Why’d you name the song “12 Feet Under” instead of “Six Feet Under?”

OT: Bury me real deep, you know?

FD: “1964” sounds autobiographical.

OT: It’s a true story about a friend named Billy Hilliard. I was always fascinated by Billy. He was a white guy married to a Black woman. A hipster, beatnik kind of guy. He met these Moroccans at the New York World’s Fair and they were just partying all the time. So, he decided to go with them on the ship on the way back. (laughs)

FD: You have some interesting choices of instruments on the songs, like the kazoo on “Write A Book About It” or the Moog synthesizer on “Travel Guide.” That’s probably like the most “non-blues” instrument that you could imagine. How’d you wind up thinking, let’s put a Moog on this track?

OT: I try things as a surprise, like you didn’t see ’em coming. For lyrics as well as sounds.

FD: The Cello on “Nasty Letter,” I can’t believe how it ties the whole song together.

OT: That song’s been in two different movies (Shooter and Public Enemies). So I had to do it completely different than the one that was in the movies.

FD: What really blew my mind was “Resurrection Blues.”

OT: I redid that song too. The original has 10 million hits on YouTube.

FD: How did that spring into your mind? “I woke up this morning, I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep. I found out I was Jesus.”

OT: People don’t wanna suffer before they die. I don’t wanna be Jesus ‘cause Jesus suffered, you know?

FD: In “Hit From the Left,” is that a boxing reference?

OT: Duck. Right. It’s a song about protest. I’m super happy you got rid of your shoes, which has to do with the Kung Fu TV program, where he never had any shoes on. He had his hat on and beat up everybody. (laughs) I put in all these weird references. It would be hard to catch, and understand where I’m coming from.

FD: The song has a line, “you love in silence and you hate out loud.”

OT: You hate people out loud and you love quietly. Love is a quiet thing and hate is a violent thing.

FD: The closing song, “Live Your Life,” though profound, is almost upbeat after the intensity of the rest of the album.

OT: It’s a handsome kind of song, you know?

FD: Have you known the musicians on Banjo… for a while? Did you just play live in the studio, or did you do a lot of overdubs or takes?

OT: I might track with drums, bass and guitars, and everything else would be put on top. I produced the album.

FD: The guitar player, J.P. Johnson. Whoa.

OT: I’ve known him since he was 16. He could only come up for two hours [to do the album]. So we did all that recording in two hours.

FD: Maybe that’s why it sounds like his playing has such a sense of urgency.

OT: Oh, there was a sense! (laughs) And the Hammond organ had a problem and we had to jury rig it. And at first I thought I only had a week to do the record.

FD: There are six originals on Banjo… along with six remakes. Did you write the originals just for this album, or have they been kind of brewing for a while?

OT: I’m running out of ideas. So I just had six [new] songs.

FD: (laughs) It happens to the best of us!

OT: I’ve always gotten really good reviews. And they’re always waiting for the time that people are gonna say, “Otis finally lost it. You know, he’s just not Otis anymore.” So you try to do your best.

FD:  You have a good reputation.

OT: And they want you to f*ck up so they can give you [grief]. So I have to just to do a good job. I hadn’t been the studio for four years, so it was like, whoa. And I lost my voice a month before I started recording [Banjo…] ‘cause I had COVID.

FD: You pulled through. This album has so much feeling.

OT: I like to do one or two takes and don’t wanna see a third take. First take gives people a chance to see if they understand the song. Second take, I want it done by then. Very seldom do I do a third take. I expect it to be done [quickly] because you lose the emotion. Even the engineer’s more excited when he’s first hearing the song.

FD: The feeling is everything.


Treehaus Audiolab: Striking Design, Performance, and Style

Treehaus Audiolab: Striking Design, Performance, and Style

Treehaus Audiolab: Striking Design, Performance, and Style

Tom Methans

Sometimes, a certain combination of sight and sound is impossible to forget. Among the open-baffle speaker systems on exhibit at the New York Audio Show 2022, Treehaus Audiolab’s Phantom of Luxury field coil speakers and associated electronics made a big impression, and I needed to hear more. The brand is manufactured in Southport, Connecticut, but Rich Pinto’s new showroom is 15 miles north along route 95 in Milford, CT.

The focal point in the space are the speakers made from big slabs of salvaged walnut, box elder, elm, and other species of wood with random asymmetrical “live edges” that mirror the natural shape of a tree and break up unwanted sound waves that are reflected off the front baffle. Once Pinto sources interesting pieces of wood, he shapes, sands, and treats the baffles until they’re transformed into Mid-century modern works of art measuring approximately 30 by 50 inches. They are then ready for the equally thoughtful work on the back of the speakers. This is one of the rare cases when the drivers and speaker components are just as interesting to look at as the woodwork.

Each slab is outfitted with a Fostex T900A AlNiCo-magnet super tweeter, strapped on with a piece of leather, and a corresponding high frequency crossover and fine-tuning attenuator. The star of the driver show is the Atelier Rullit “Super Aero” 10-inch field coil driver with whizzer cone. It’s a full-range driver with a frequency response from 80 Hz to 16 kHz with a slow roll-off on either end. Pinto likes a full-range driver because it’s the simplest path from the amp to the music without a crossover in between. Completing the 130 lb. speaker is the Atelier Rullit 15-inch field coil driver, connected to a separate dedicated solid-state amplifier and a DSP (digital signal processor) that serves as an adjustable electronic crossover and also provides low-frequency room correction so there’s no booming or thumping. It’s essentially a subwoofer, but don’t expect the high-excursion drivers used in home theater. The Rullit woofer adds foundation to the very bottom end, which affects room pressure rather than the ear.

 


Rich Pinto and the Treehaus Audiolab system.

 

What exactly is a field coil? Field coil drivers use an electromagnet rather than the now-common permanent magnet to create the magnetic field that enables a speaker to operate. While rare these days, field coil drivers were the common design in the 1920s when permanent magnets were too large and expensive to mount onto speakers. Nevertheless, super-efficient field coils worked perfectly with the low-watt directly-heated triode tube amplifiers of the era. Unlike conventional modern magnet drivers, field coils require a separate power supply, so Treehaus includes a tube-rectified power supply unit which feeds pure DC current to the four large wire-wound electromagnets in the Atelier Rullit drivers. The power supply has the added benefit of offering adjustable voltages to fine-tune the sound.

I was not familiar with Atelier Rullit. If there’s a web site, they’re hiding it. Besides an out-of-date Facebook page with a few posts and photographs, there are limited consumer access points to the Nuremburg, Germany company, but DIY enthusiasts can occasionally find a set of full-range drivers online. This is the accompanying sales copy from a current eBay listing:

“I would suggest to compare a ferrite magnet to mere tap water, [and] an AlNiCo [magnet] to the kind of premium mountain water being offered in supermarkets, whereas [a] field coil represents the water you take directly from its origin somewhere in the woods –  refreshing and rich in taste. Just close your eyes and try to imagine their undoubtedly different qualities.”

For people who understand Europeans’ appreciation of fine water, this is a subtle yet spot-on analogy. I would agree that there’s something special about these drivers ─ from the delicate textured cone papers with leather surrounds, and the glaze finishes on the field coil “cans” housing the electromagnets, to the tradition from which they hail.

 


Rear view showing the Phantom of Luxury’s drivers.

 

I have never seen or heard anything like these drivers in consumer audio because the Rullit workshop rebuilds, restores, and modifies vintage field coil drivers from the nascent days of Germany’s entertainment industry. Klangfilm was the country’s first name in filmmaking, broadcasting, public address systems, and theater equipment. Even having the benefit of my college German, the history is a bit hazy and convoluted, but in short, Klangfilm was founded in 1928 with the backing of Telefunken’s parent companies AEG and Siemens, the European equivalents of General Electric and Western Electric in North America. Siemens eventually absorbed Klangfilm, and by the time home stereo and color television became accessible in the 1960s, monstrous horns, low-watt directly-heated triode tube amps, and field coil dinosaur speakers were relegated to the niche realm of audio hobbyist craft builders. Atelier Rullit incorporates pieces and parts of many of the greatest German drivers from the golden age of 1930s and 1940s.

Although Treehaus Audiolab speakers can be powered by other amplifiers, there is a particular synergy between the Atelier Rullit drivers and the Treehaus Audiolab amplification system built by master craftsman Radu Tarta, based on the designs of Susumu Sakuma (1942 – 2018) of Japan.

Unless you’re a DIY tube amp builder or a student of the Japanese magazine MJ Audio Technology, the name Susumu Sakuma might not be familiar. He was not a commercial amp builder but a chef by profession and a tube junkie, who built his unique mono single-ended triode amps, usually in his restaurant Concord, where he purportedly made a single dish, the hamburger steak. Otherwise, Sakuma dedicated his life to submitting articles in MJ magazine, writing poetry and books on amplifier design, conducting demonstrations of his creations, and plumbing the depths of old-fashioned amplifiers. According to Pinto, “[Sakuma’s] transformer coupling between DHTs (directly-heated triodes) is similar to very early Western Electric designs, where they used transformers rather than capacitors between the amplification stages.”

These are the origin stories behind Treehaus Audiolab’s striking designs, built on a foundation of Japanese Finemet audio transformers, Coleman filament regulators, and Cardas connectors. With Pinto building the heavy wooden chassis and Tarta assembling the electronics, their components and materials achieve a level of visual appeal that will seduce any audiophile. Beside its practical function, the amplifier is absolute eye candy. As for the design, Rich Pinto puts it most succinctly: “The 6.5-watt amplifier employs directly-heated triode (DHT) driver tubes, [using] VT-25As, interstage-coupled via transformer to a pair of 300B Western Electric tubes (also DHTs). The stereo amplifier is powered by a separate tube-rectified separate power supply to keep the transfer of both mechanical and electronic noise to a minimum.”

The preamplifier is the epitome of minimalist utilitarian design, with a power switch, on/off light, and two heavy knobs for volume and source selection. But, behind the faceplate, Pinto notes:

“The Treehaus preamplifier also features a separate tube-rectified power supply. It accommodates three sources and is equipped with a transformer volume control (TVC) for most efficient attenuation. Utilizing a 4P1L vacuum tube for gain and a pair of Finemet output transformers, the design follows a similar ethos to the 300b amplifier.”

The system is tied together with Iconoclast by Belden cables: OCC 1×4 RCA interconnects, BAV 19106 12 AWG power cables, and SPTPC (Silver-Plated Electrolytic Tough Pitch Copper) speaker wires. Rich has also used Blue Jeans Cable, my go-to wiring for many years. Aesthetically, the entire system is tied together by warm wood hues, corroded industrial aluminum, and pops of textured copper and brass materials to achieve a combination of antique, Mid-century and modern styling that would be at home in a sprawling loft, an organic Frank Lloyd Wright house, an ultra-modern build in the Hollywood Hills, or even a 14 by 14-foot room with 8-foot ceilings like Pinto’s demonstration room where I auditioned the system.

 


Another view of the drivers. The midrange cone is a work of art unto itself.

 

We began with Rush’s “The Spirit of Radio” on vinyl, proceeded to Applewood Road, an all-female trio recorded direct to tape, and moved to cuts by Bjork, and the English alt band Black Country, New Road. Because the drivers are free of cabinets, every cut sounded alive and present as sound seemed to emanate from a stage rather than a pair of speakers. Nothing about the system is sappy, tubby, or overly warm – rather it is revelatory of the recorded material. Although the volume the speakers can produce is substantial, these are not heavy metal or floor-rattling hip-hop speakers, but it would be fun to try.

There are some systems that perform their functions as audio wallflowers, but this is not one of them. I’ve seen lots of silver and black electronics which are fine sitting hidden away in racks or corners, but Pinto and Radu’s bespoke creations are worthy of longer speaker wire just so I could have the electronics right next to me in full view.

Treehaus Audiolab also offers their National Treasure speaker with a Rullit “Aero” field coil driver, Rullit ferrite-magnet 15-inch woofer, and Fostex T90A AlNiCo Super Tweeter for $18,000, but that day I listened to the Phantom of Luxury speakers made with walnut slabs sourced from Western Pennsylvania and cost $29,000 per pair. The amplifier is priced similarly to other 300B-based amps at $17,500, and the preamp is $16,000. The total system cost is $62,500 before adding sources and wires.

You can buy an audio system for a few thousand dollars (or even less), but why drink water from the municipal reservoir when you can tap into magical mountain springs of Germany and Japan? Treehaus Audiolab does more than build a stereo system, it reaches back to the earliest days of craftsmanship, design, and sound while incorporating a contemporary sensibility.

I encourage everyone to experience the system for themselves. For those new to tube amplifiers and field coil speakers, don’t get too overwhelmed by unfamiliar terms and components. Just sit back and enjoy. Rich Pinto and Treehaus Audiolab will be exhibiting at AXPONA 2023 in April. If you’re near Milford, CT, you can schedule an appointment in their demonstration room. Be sure to bring your vinyl to play on Rich’s Micro Seiki BL-91 turntable!

Here’s a video of the Treehaus Audiolab system at the last New York Audio Show (video only, no audio):

 

All images and video courtesy of Tom Methans.