Two people can love the same system for opposite reasons.

One of us listens for the room. Where the players stand, the air between them, the sense that the drummer is three feet behind and to the left. The other listens for tonal balance. Following a bass line as it moves under a dense mix, catching a harmony that was buried for years until one night it steps forward.

Sit two friends at the same dinner and one raves about how the plate looked, the other about how it tasted. Neither was wrong. They were paying attention to different things.

For a long time we've treated the holographic soundstage as the high test of a system—the illusion of a real acoustic event hanging in the air. It's a glorious thing when it happens. But it isn't the only test, and I'm not sure it's the higher one. Hearing deep into a recording, separating the lines and layers, is its own kind of magic, and plenty of listeners value it more than knowing exactly where each musician is standing.

Here's the part that ties them together. Both are the same event wearing different clothes: the gear getting out of the way. Imaging is the system disappearing in space. Hearing into the mix is the system disappearing in detail. In both cases the equipment stops calling attention to itself and the musicians are simply there.

So which one are you listening for tonight?

There's no wrong answer. The best system doesn't force the choice.

It just steps aside and lets you decide.