Issue 106

Zabriskie Point, Death Valley National Park, California.

When I was Harry Pearson’s setup man at The Absolute Sound, equipment would break down all the time. I’m not talking about a tube going bad every once in a while, or things caused by accident, like when Harry dropped a remote control into a glass of wine and demanded I fix it. (I actually tried. Fuhgeddaboudit.) I’m talking about equipment breaking down and misbehaving constantly, maddeningly, all the freakin’ time. The equipment failures were too frequent to be the result of chance, and they often happened without discernible reason. I got to the point where I could come up with only one explanation: Harry’s house was haunted. Let me give you a few examples. Mike Wesley (sadly, now deceased) of Madrigal Audio Laboratories told me he was sending down a pair of Jadis JA 200 monoblock amplifiers for review. Harry and I couldn’t wait. We’d heard and loved previous Jadis gear and the JA 200 was a 160 watt-per-channel statement piece, with four chassis, 10 power tubes per side and metalwork of gleaming chrome and gold. They arrived, all 275-plus pounds of them. I unpacked and assembled them, taking care not to smudge the finish, making sure the tubes were in the proper sockets and finally turning the amps on. The tubes lit up. Nothing. No sound. Dead. I checked all the connections. It couldn’t be the amps, I thought, and re-checked everything. Finally, I swapped the JA 200s out of the system. The previous amps worked fine. I then schlepped the JA 200s and connected them to the second system. No sound. I called Mike Wesley and explained the situation. “That’s impossible,” he said. “We tested the amps before we shipped them.” He then suggested all the usual diagnostics, all of which I did. I turned the amps on again. Nothing. Silence. We figured something must have happened in shipping. I sent the amps back to Madrigal and got a call a few days later. “The amps are fine,” Wesley said. “Are you sure you had them hooked up right?” “Yes.” Got the amps back about a week later and plugged them in with great anticipation. No sound. Called Wesley again. “This can’t be! They were working perfectly! Send the amps back again and this time I’ll check them and drive them back myself.” About two weeks later Wesley showed up, amps in tow. This time he set them up. He turned them on. They worked. “So, they were broken when you got them back,” I said. “No, they were fine.” “Then why weren’t they working before?” “I don’t know.” I’m sure he thought the reason was that I was the world’s most inept setup man. (I should mention that Harry’s house had been re-wired with a top-of-the-line electrical system with dedicated lines, hospital-grade outlets, robust grounding and yadda yadda. AC power was never an issue.) Another time I went to get the system ready for action. I grabbed the AudioQuest electronic stylus cleaner and went to clean the stylus on the Spectral cartridge. (Spectral – how appropriate.) Except the cantilever wasn’t there. What the...I figured Harry must have been playing the records the night before and snapped it off. It couldn’t have fallen far, right? I looked and looked and looked for it and the cantilever was nowhere to be found. I confronted Harry. “You broke the cantilever off the Spectral, didn’t you?” He looked at me like I had three heads. “What are you talking about? I didn’t play the system last night.” “So, what, did it just disappear?” Harry asked. Well, apparently. I used to have to replace the EMIM and EMIT midrange drivers in the Infinity IRS V speaker system all the time. I know what you’re thinking and to be fair, there were nights when we played the IRS Vs really loud. But most of the time we didn’t listen all that loudly, and honestly, there was absolutely no rhyme or reason as to when the drivers would crap out. It got to the point where I’d check each driver before every listening session. I’d call Kathy at Infinity to get replacement EMIMs and EMITs. One day she told me, “What are you guys doing over there?” When I’d tell her we hadn’t been playing the system that loud I could feel the disbelief 2,800 miles away. But, better that than blaming it on ghosts, I figured. “Arnie (Nudell, then-Infinity president) says he’s not going to give you any more drivers,” Kathy said. I relayed that to Harry, who roared, “Well you can tell Arnie to go f**k himself!” Yeah, right. Luckily I’d built up a stash and I was able to weasel a few more from Infinity over time. We received a Vibraplane turntable base. You inflated it with air, by means of a valve, and the air provided isolation. Steve Klein, the guy behind manufacturer Sounds of Silence, initially visited to set it up. I asked, “How often do you have to level it? Does it lose air over time?” He said, no, it should be very stable. Naturally it worked perfectly when he was there. (And had an extremely beneficial effect on the sound.} You know where this is going. Soon after Steve left, I started having to add air infrequently, then regularly, then every day. Steve was adamant that I didn’t know how to use the unit properly (I did, but hey, water under the bridge) and that it worked fine everywhere else. In fact, I’ve spoken to other Vibraplane users who have confirmed this. More ghosts in the Sea Cliff machine. The spirits didn’t just hover over the audio gear. I got to be very good friends with Harry’s alarm system repair guy – because he was at the house all the time. The alarm was constantly malfunctioning and going off at random times. At one point the technician even replaced the entire system – and it would still go off unpredictably. The tech said the house must be haunted and I was beginning to believe him. I’m not even mentioning things like interconnects shorting out, bad tubes, CD player transports getting stuck or other malfunctions. Another strange happenstance: one time I was playing a set of large speakers (the Duntech Sovereigns or something of that magnitude; where’s Prevagen when you need it?). A pair of Thiel 3.6 speakers were about 20 feet across the room, and they were playing. I mean, actual music was playing out of them – but they weren’t hooked up to anything. Probably the result of sympathetic vibration, but having had previous strange encounters, it surprised the wits out of me. And I’ve heard nothing like it since. One more example. We requested a Conrad-Johnson amplifier for review; pretty sure it was a Premier Twelve XS (or the Premier Eight XS; this was in the early 1990s). It had manual power tube bias adjustment pots, adjusted by turning them with a plastic screwdriver until an LED indicator turned off. Then wait and do it again 30 minutes later after the amp had settled in. When the late, great Carnell “Gatt” Gatling had delivered the amp, he and I adjusted the bias in about two minutes. After he left, I could never get the bias lights to stay stable. They would constantly be lighting up even when the amp was idling. I made the inevitable phone call to Gatt, who sent me a bunch of replacement tubes to swap – and gave me the “there’s nothing wrong with the unit!” speech. This speech, along with the emphatically stated, “it can’t possibly be broken. We’ve never had one break at a customer or dealer!” talk was one I heard over and over again while at The Absolute Sound. Gatt came by to visit a few more times as he and Harry had developed a strong friendship. Each time he was there the amp behaved perfectly. But not for me. One morning I went to get the system ready and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get the bias lights to go off. I tried and tried. Finally, something snapped inside me. I locked myself in the downstairs bathroom and was close to tears in frustration. I felt like things had completely slipped out of control. I left TAS shortly after. Harry’s belief was that the occurrences were the result of ley lines. These lines supposedly indicate the location of “earth energies” and, the idea goes, carry magnetic fields or even psychic powers. Harry told me the house was right on top of a ley line, and that was why strange stuff happened there. Let's just say this is not commonly-accepted science. I like to think of myself as grounded in reality, but also think there’s more to reality than humans will ever know. Was Harry’s house really haunted? Well, unless I was the victim of monumental bad luck or a serious statistical anomaly, I sure felt that way a lot of the time. This case of The X-Files remains open. Header image courtesy of Pixabay.com/Linforth from Pixabay.

In a recent video in his “Ask Paul” online video series, PS Audio’s Paul McGowan offers his theory of why new vinyl LPs sound more “digital” and less “analog” (“Why does new vinyl sound digital”): httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfMtIy7ZMz4&t=2s (He postulates that it’s because many new vinyl releases are made from poorly-done digitally-recorded masters.) I disagree, but I do have an explanation, or at least a theory or two. One is good, the other bad. Let’s tackle the good theory first, because I’ve noticed the same thing as Paul. (We all have.) As digital has gotten better – I’ve written before that when I first heard what has evolved into the Laufer-Teknik Memory Player (in 2007), it was a shocking revelation – it has become more “analog-like.” Chiefly, the “air” came back into the music – it sounded like someone took the lid off of the sound. And for the very first time, I was able to relax when listening to digital playback. But vinyl playback has also improved – which, in my mind, is a good thing, though it may not be in your view (i.e., you may not find it to be an improvement). Vinyl is approaching a kind of neutrality, at least when played back on certain turntable designs. I’ve written before that for quite a few years I had an Immedia RPM-2 turntable (with an Immedia arm), a Lyra Helikon SL cartridge (still have that) and listened through an EAR G88 preamp and a pair of BEL 1001 mk. IV/V amps. This was a system that very closely approached neutrality. So for about five years, I listened to the Immedia/Lyra/EAR system and the Memory Player. Were they identical? No, they weren’t, but they were damn close. The analog set-up gave the impression of a bit more “air” on certain recordings, and the digital system sounded a little more – oh, I don’t know – solid? No, that’s not quite right – stable, maybe? So this convergence of analog and digital playback is a good thing to me. Again, it may not be to you. And now that digital is as good as it is and I’m using the PS Audio DirectStream DAC in my system, I feel free, in a way, to pursue non-neutrality in a turntable. I might go for a used Linn Sondek, or beautiful rosewood VPI Classic 4 - because they look so good. (I’m currently using a VPI Prime turntable with a VPI 3D arm, on loan from the company.) So this is all good. At least, I think so. But: As the bottom has fallen out of the music market, and as record companies are notoriously cheap, and as only us weirdos actually give a flying f*ck about stuff like this, there has also been a tendency (HAH! more like a wholesale rush) to using one – digital – master for both the vinyl and digital releases of an album, rather than an all-analog master for the LP version. This is not always a bad thing – I recall hearing the vinyl LP of Elbow’s The Take Off and Landing of Everything a few years back at a hi-fi show on a megabuck Australian system, and although it was cut from a digital master it sounded pretty great. I had no pure analog to compare it to, but just on its own, it was great. But using a single master for all formats is often a bad thing. Even with orchestral or chamber music, sometimes both just repeat whatever errors are audible in both technologies. (Fortunately, as with digital in general, these audible problems are more rare these days.) I can often close my eyes while listening to digital and the system goes away, leaving only music (and this is with 25-year-old speakers). So I offer these as theories – the convergence, sonically speaking, of digital and analogue (good), and the practice of the dumbing down (so to speak) of LP-making to a single digital-only master tape (bad). Header image courtesy of Pixabay/Luisa Munoz.

While many of us focus on high-performance two-channel audio systems, which are more or less the result of decades of development and art, we’re not typical consumers. A lot has, and is, still changing with respect to the kinds of people who are buying audio and listening to music. This demographic shift has accelerated and the changes in peoples’ listening habits are now dramatic. Those who know me know I have worked on the manufacturers’ side of the consumer electronics industry for decades. Therefore I am always interested in what kinds of products companies need to produce, ideate, invent or innovate in order to serve the market. Don’t hate me, but that research led me to work on the first iPod docking speakers, the first ultraportable speakers and the first Bluetooth speakers, as well as the first audio/video receivers for home theater, among many other products. While many readers here may have no care for these or other mass-market audio products, it is also true that these and many other product developments have contributed to a lot of listening. All of them were informed by listening to and looking at media consumption by a large variety of people, and trying to serve their needs better. That is why the Consumer Technology Association (of which I am a member) recently completed a research study on the current demographics of audio users. The purpose of the study was to aid CTA member manufacturers, retailers, developers and other firms in better understanding the changing marketplace and adjust expectations, methods and product development, and service offerings. The results of the study show that things have changed – and are continuing to change a lot. First of all, it is a much bigger, wider and more diverse audio universe than ever before. Now that people have the ability to listen almost everywhere, they are doing so whether on the go, waiting in line, at an airport, in bed, out and about – just everywhere. Of course this means changes in the quality of sound they’re listening to, due to the ability to listen to music virtually anywhere and the wide variety of music-playback devices that enable this. Headphones, which used to be a much less prevalent playback device, have become dominant, which of course is part of why events like CanJam have become important audio shows. They’re filled with a younger crowd that is no less interested than “traditional” audiophiles in quality sound, and they’re spending significant money on headphones, high quality DACs, high-resolution portable digital players, streaming devices, headphone amplifiers and listening stations. (There are plenty of older people at these shows also, but the younger age range is apparent.) Of course, on the other side of the coin, smartphones are also a major source of audio for a wide range of consumer listeners and indeed it is smartphones and the Internet that have the most to do with transformation of who and how people are listening to music. This also has follow-on effects at CES (the Consumer Electronics Show) itself. While it is true that there is now a paucity of high-end two-channel products and vendors at CES (and that may be generous), nonetheless at CES 2020 there were hundreds of companies showing audio, including high-quality audio, at the show. Many of these firms showed high-performance headphones, personal listening amplifiers, DACs and streaming devices. There were also some quite inventive new DSP-powered speaker solutions from Cleer, B&O, Eikon, Sony, Sennheiser, some French firms I cannot remember, and others. While many of these new products may not be of interest directly to two-channel fans, still, it was impressive to see strides in soundbars; for example, with much better listening coverage areas and better surround effects, often with the surround processing designed with music in mind. I saw multiple firms showing “360-degree” surround-sound formats, including Sony, Dolby and others. Again, while this may not be of interest to hard-core audiophiles, it is a serious endeavor that is likely to engage many younger listeners, as shown by the CTA’s demographic study. Today, about 82% of consumer’s listening comes from streaming services. That is an amazing figure – until you realize that it is because of the shift in listening habits towards portable audio means that streaming has become dominant as a result. This is also why music sales have recovered significantly, as subscription services allow wide access to and discovery of music. This also fuels the sales of physical media like vinyl records, which continue to grow. Interestingly, one reason for sales of physical media is the customer’s love of the music or artist, as many records and CDs, once purchased, are rarely played, with studies from Futuresource among others showing that a significant portion of them are never played at all. This also explains some of the challenges to people purchasing more “classic” audio set-ups of two channels with speakers; our beloved stereo audio systems often do not serve younger listeners who need access to their digital services. It is not lack of respect for legacy devices, rather it is the need to integrate digital and portable features to play their media. Only a few years back, the CTA also looked at the demography of audio and found that about 14% of listeners considered themselves audiophiles. These were people who were willing to spend more and invest in higher-quality sound and were often characterized by an understanding of technology and awareness of its importance. Some 43% of listeners were classified as music lovers, people who felt the need and importance of music in their lives. Many said they could not get through the day without music (and I agree). This was and remains the largest group of listeners in the study. The remainder could be characterized as “unmoved," which didn’t mean they didn’t listen, just that they seemed not to care about the quality of the equipment used to listen with. However, the recent CTA study shows a lot of changes to the demography. Now, many of the legacy equipment buyers are more focused on audio as luxury goods. They are not as focused on technology or even performance as much as on the more usual elements of luxury goods. This means fit and finish, materials used, exclusivity, price and other luxury attributes. (This is not meant to insult or alienate anyone, but a simple reporting of fact.) Interest in conventional two-channel stereo systems has ebbed a bit and now comprises only about 12% of listeners. In fact, consumer interest in technology has shifted to the “music lovers’” portion of the demography. Those people classified in the study as such are focused on the digital features and services their devices provide. And this group, which is still about 43% of the population, is large and growing more diverse. Keep in mind that (audio) listening now also includes gaming, video and movies, where the line has blurred between listening and watching, and more recently virtual, mixed and augmented reality, where immersive audio, the experience of hearing sounds from everywhere in space – left, right, front and back – is a critical element in the listener’s overall experience. These shifts in listening habits explain why we see more efforts in developing immersive 360-degree audio from Dolby, Sony and others. (While this initial content is often as contrived and exaggerated as some of the original quadraphonic sound some of us remember, the reasons behind it are clear,) Sadly, the balance of the consumers in the CTA study still do not care that much about the sound quality of the source devices, even if the current audio universe is much bigger and wider than ever. None of this dismisses anyone’s love of a particular flavor and type of audio experience, but perhaps it helps us understand why changes in the ways in which people listen to music will continue to emerge. The good news is that more people are listening to music in more ways than ever before, and a significant percentage care about good sound. In fact, we continue to see shifts toward higher-quality sound by the major streaming services, so we know there will be a lot of good sound going forward – even if not in some of the formats we currently use. Header image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Bruce Mars.

Finding myself in Syracuse, New York and out of work once again, I sent resumes out and networked very seriously. I did get a bite via a friend in Minneapolis. A group had purchased an FM station and was looking for a program director to launch the new station. It had no staff or studio – just the station. The station was WCTS-AM, owned by the Christian Theological Seminary. Colfax, the new company that had bought WCTS, had recently purchased KQQL-FM (KOOL 108, an oldies station) and was looking to expand. As the story goes, they approached the Seminary and suggested they’d like to purchase the FM station, and give them (subject to FCC approval, of course) an AM station in return plus a check for $10,000,000. “Hallelujah! Praise God.” The deal was done. So Colfax now had this FM station, which had previously featured a religious-programming format. Colfax then shut down the station while they researched the competition, did some upgrades, built studios and hired a program director to assemble a staff and give it direction. Several radio industry consultants assured success, but agreed it would face a highly competitive format war. A format was chosen, as the two stations currently doing that format in the Minneapolis area were thought to be weak. A marketing person was asked to come up with ideas for the new property. Apparently an entire book of ideas was presented, none of which would have worked – yet one slogan was brilliant and would subsequently be adopted. Back in Syracuse, I had to sign an NDA (non-disclosure agreement), which I happily did, before they would tell me the new name of the station, as well as its format and slogan. When I found out the new name, I laughed and laughed, and actually had to put the phone down to gather my wits. The new station would be called BOB. The slogan would be “Turn Your Knob to BOB.” The format would be New Country. Searching for the call letters WBOB-FM, they were found to be owned by a disgruntled ex-wife, who had won the station and call letters in a divorce settlement and was happy to part with them for cash. A studio was built in the KQQL space, and I set about finding personalities, building the music-playback algorithms and so on. Six weeks later, we launched with a million-dollar marketing budget – heavy TV, prime “super” billboards (the really large ones) and more. To make a long story short, one of our competitors dropped out of the race, and we subsequently beat the big country powerhouse station in the area. But, change was in the air. Colfax had expanded across the country (bankrolled by a pair of industrialist billionaire brothers), radio was a hot commodity in the mid ‘90s, and they sold the company for a hefty profit. Our subsequent owners sold their company after a short time too. Our third owners already owned our competition – the station we had beaten – and after their research, decided to keep that one in the country format. In doing their market research and seeing the high – 80% – consumer awareness for Howard Stern, the new owners decided to kill BOB, put syndicated Howard on in the morning and play what they called “real rock” the rest of the day. The company asked me to stay. I was given a choice: be the programming director for the rock station, or KQQL, the oldies station. I chose the oldies. Later, that company was sold to Clear Channel, which eventually became iHeartMedia. The rock station failed, and the former BOB/rock station was now smooth jazz. I was then given responsibility for that station in addition to KQQL. One day, at an industry gala awards ceremony for which we were nominated for something or other, the president of Clear Channel came up to our table and without thinking, signaled I should “speak with my manager” as I had been a topic of conversation at their budget meetings. The handwriting was on the wall. Back home I confronted my boss and he told me they were “absorbing” my jobs. I had a no-cut contract so I was paid until it expired. My wife grew up outside of Buffalo and had endured the snow of Syracuse, then Minneapolis, and wanted out of winter. We decided to move to Austin, Texas and had a home built. My radio programming days were over. Snapshots: Upcoming country artists would sometimes visit my office and sing a few songs from their new albums. As an audiophile, this was good ear training for the intimate sound of live, un-amplified music. (Eventually the station built a dedicated performance space.) Despite the fact that some of the artists had real talent, few made it to a national level of fame or success. Talent doesn’t guarantee success. I believe the truth is that there’s a simple three-part map to success: talent, tenacity, luck. I really enjoyed meeting so many artists, greatly respected their work ethic and wish that they all could have found fame, but only a few ever do. Next issue – Bob ends his radio career, begins another and has some thoughts on the state of commercial radio today. – Ed.>

In Issue 105 we featured an Industry Viewpoint column from Magnepan marketing manager Wendell Diller. He asked: are audio dealers in trouble? Where can a consumer go to listen to high-end audio products when US audio dealers are shrinking in number? We’ve received a number of responses and are running some of them here (some in edited form). Let’s keep the dialog going on this important issue facing manufacturers, dealers, and especially customers. Craig: When I entered the hobby in the mid-’70s, dealers were plentiful. We even had one in my home town, Peoria, IL (Electronics Diversified), and Chicago (Paul Heath – where I encountered my first Tympani – and others). And I was super fortunate to have a wonderful dealer in Milwaukee, where I finished college. I’ve heard many stories about snooty salesmen (never snooty saleswomen for some reason), but I’ve never encountered any. I thought I had, initially, at that visit to the Chicago Paul Heath shop. The gentleman at the sales counter asked if he could help us. We were just looking, as high-end shops were still very new to us, and we told him so. He replied, “so you’re just here to waste an afternoon at our expense?” My expression must have revealed my shock and embarrassment, when his face broke into a broad grin, and he said, “Great! You’re my kind of people!” Feeling relieved, we headed into the shop’s middle room, which held equipment of the price points we’d be most comfortable with, and he stopped us, saying, “don’t go in there – go all the way to the back, where the really good stuff is!” That’s where we found the Tympani. We stood there listening, dumbfounded. Those are the kinds of experiences that today’s audiophiles just don’t get. highstream: I’ve had exactly the opposite experience: I come to listen to the best, politely say so, and invariably get guided to the lower end offerings, even though I look like an executive. Sometimes I approach a shop with a smaller task, perhaps a set up issue I need help with, and see how they respond. I see it as developing a relationship that can be built upon. Pete Wilson: Used to have a useful, unpretentious hi-fi store in Austin, TX – Audio Systems. But eventually, the owner (who owned the property as well as the business) decided he’d got to the point where he’d like to retire. So he did, and the place was picked up by one of those home automation companies that install giant AV theaters. They wanted a storefront; but they’re used to only buying kit from distributors when they have a firm installation order; they weren’t prepared, for example, to get a NAD M12 in so I could try (and almost certainly buy). The old business would have done it for a real customer. So, I don’t shop there anymore. dr.goodears: All the various marketing methods you mentioned: dealer showrooms, factory-direct sales, going to audio shows to see and hear products, consumer education and engagement such as Paul marketing campaign of daily posts, videos, forums, celebrity and reviewer endorsements, and existing customer referrals are all important channels to reach, engage and grow your customer base. The fundamental problem in my mind is the lack of formal arts education in primary, elementary and secondary schools today. This began when school’s started cutting music programs from their educational roster, music appreciation, music theory, band class and the emphasis on original composition. The noise emulating from kid’s modern mobile phones is enough to make anyone run for cover. Along with learning about history and culture, music inspires analytical thinking, problem solving, teamwork, motivation and self-discipline. Unfortunately, today, music education is a vanishing subject. By contrast, many European and Asian countries require schoolchildren to study the arts every year. One solution may just be the creation of an association, not unlike the CTA or AAHEA (Academy for the Advancement of High-End Audio; remember that one?) to promote the arts in schools to inspire, develop and grow new music enthusiasts. Craig: The decline of the dealer network really isn’t anything other than a response to the market. It seems to me that the industry grew from the ’50s through the ’80s because of two things: the technology and its effects were new enough that it was attractive to older buyers who were already established music consumers via classical concert attendance and who loved the sound so much they wanted to reproduce that experience in their homes; and younger buyers, who viewed art (especially music) as a tool for social change, granting it status as a central theme in their lives, which made it important to be able to reproduce it as faithfully as possible at home, for the greatest emotional impact. That first group has long since died off, and the second is now sitting around lamenting the declining base of the industry. Not only do I not know what the answer is, I’m not sure any longer that there is one. B. Jan Montana: To me, the answer seems obvious and some manufacturers are already using it. I discovered it through Sanders Sound Systems (formerly InnerSound). If you wish to audition their speakers, simply order a pair, have them shipped to your home, listen to them for 30 days, and send them back for a refund if they don’t work for you. Without a dealer mark-up, Sanders can sell his speakers for half price. Seems like a win/win for both the manufacturer and the consumer. I’d insist on a home demo even if I was buying speakers from a dealer because they sound different in every acoustic environment. Partnering equipment and individual tastes also affect buying decisions. I don’t know why all manufacturers don’t to this, but perhaps I’m missing something. audiojerry: It seems like being a dealer requires too much of an investment including the cost of owning or renting a store property and carrying a sizable amount of expensive inventory that may not sell. How about using “satellite” dealers. By that I mean an arrangement where an audio manufacturer or distributor partners with consumers who have previously purchased their products to become “in home” dealers. The manufacturer/distributor supplies owners living in a number of geographical locations with the proper equipment to provide an in-home demo system to prospective buyers. Each satellite dealer could have a different setup of demo equipment. A website would be needed to attract prospective buyers and direct them to locations where the products could be heard. If the prospect likes what he/she hears, they can place an order through the website. It would eliminate the inventory and dealer expense. And the compensation for the satellite dealer could be to keep the demo equipment or receive a commission for each sale. iamdriv3n: Poor Magnepan, some of the best products for higher end audio that covers almost any budget and their website, sales, marketing strategy and reliance on dealers is straight out the 1970s. The LRS is proof they continue to innovate but how they get their products into consumers’ homes is a chore for the consumer. They would be constantly sold out of product if they invested in online ordering, parts ordering (including upgrade and repair kits). The reviews across their product line speak for themselves. The only reason I go into any dealer or dealership is to demo a product (showrooming) and then check online to see has the best deal. Consumers are a lot more complex/savvy and have the world in their hands (phone) so the salesman is less valuable than they were. Why take his word when you can get thousands of real world reviews in real time online? Paul172: I’m also sad to see the demise of the audio boutique/stores. I have been listening to music as long as I could remember. It wasn’t until I discovered Audio Consultants when I discovered and truly appreciated high-end equipment. Not only could I go to the stores and listen to the equipment but at no cost I could bring it home for the weekend and enjoy it at my house! I was hooked – I thought I was hearing music for the first time! Unfortunately, we could see the writing on the wall and these businesses are dying if not extinct. Abt has a great selection of equipment on display but it’s not the same if you can’t audition it in your home. What should be a concern for manufacturers is, how are you going to introduce your products to the next generation of audiophiles if they can’t go and experience it hands on? iPhones and headphones will be they’re reference and they will be missing out on listening to what the artist really wants you to hear. Craig: Home auditions are common, of course, when it comes to factory-direct and internet sales, and even in the “olden” says of mail order. In the decline of physical storefronts, I’ve purchased a number of individual components that way, and it’s worked out well. I’ve only had to return items twice because I didn’t like their sound.

In my previous article on vacuum tubes in Issue 103, I talked about linearity. One of our readers requested a more thorough explanation of how linearity relates to audio and music. There are a few different common uses of the term “linearity” in relation to audio electronics. One refers to the frequency response of an audio circuit. A “linear frequency response” refers to the ability of the circuit to produce an equal output level at all frequencies within a specified bandwidth, for an equal input level. The audio range of frequencies is commonly thought of as starting at 20 Hz and ending at 20 kHz, which is the average range of frequencies that can be perceived as sound by a healthy human when presented as pure sinusoidal (sine wave) waveforms, heard through loudspeakers or headphones. This is far from the whole story though, since live music consists of fundamental frequencies as low as 16 Hz (which can be produced by organ pipes) and harmonics extending up to or over 100 kHz (certain percussive instruments). Furthermore, sound in nature is never just pure sinusoidal waveforms, but complex waves consisting of various frequencies blended together. While we cannot “hear” 16 Hz, we can perceive its presence or absence with our other senses. Also, the ability or inability of audio equipment to linearly reproduce 16 Hz will affect the phase response above 20 Hz in the range that we do hear! The phase response can be thought of as the relative stage of development between the different regularly occurring oscillating phenomena, representing the frequency components of a complex sound. There are mathematical relationships (which can get rather complex) between the frequency and phase response of an electronic circuit. A key point to consider is that frequency response errors outside the 20 Hz – 20 kHz range can cause phase response errors within the 20 Hz-20 kHz range, at low and high frequencies alike. Changing the relative phase between the different frequency components of a complex wave actually changes the wave shape, as mathematically described by the Fourier transform. But is this actually audible? Dr. Milind Kunchur of the University of South Carolina conducted several experiments, attempting to define the temporal resolution of the human auditory system. The groundbreaking results were published in peer-reviewed academic journals and even proposed a neurophysiological mechanism model that could explain the findings. Our hearing is much more sensitive to time domain and phase response errors than to frequency domain errors (frequency response). The temporal resolution found through Dr. Kunchur’s research is in the order of 4.7 µs, which would seem to imply that we should be able to hear frequencies much higher than 20 kHz. It is noteworthy that our temporal resolution does not appear to degrade as much with age, whereas our hearing becomes progressively less sensitive to high frequencies as we age. We have essentially just stumbled upon a second potential use of the term “linearity.” This would be phase linearity. Both frequency and phase response can easily be measured. The frequency response of an audio component or loudspeaker is often proudly displayed in product specification sheets – while the phase response is usually absent. Moreover, the frequency response specs are usually stated in terms of 20 Hz – 20 kHz +/-1 dB, which tells us absolutely nothing about the product’s actual sound. This is not to say that it is not useful to measure the frequency response. On the contrary, I believe we would benefit from more thorough measurements, conducted over a much wider range, such as measuring both frequency and phase response from 10 Hz – 100 kHz, and presenting the data as (graphical) plots rather than as just numbers. (While measuring the frequency and phase response of a high performance disk-cutting amplifier I designed some years ago Journal of the Audio Engineering Society>, even the 10 Hz – 100 kHz plots were just straight lines! A 20 Hz – 20 kHz plot would have been less informative or indicative of this amplifier’s performance.) The benefit of an amplifier having such a wide bandwidth is that it can reproduce a very accurate 1 kHz square wave, which is a good measure of transient performance. What does this mean in terms of reproducing music? Phase response errors alter the shape of a square wave passing through the circuit, and in much the same way, the sound of fast transients in music such as percussive sounds and vocal consonants. The effect of such errors is accumulative, which means that if, say, we have one circuit in a component and that circuit has phase response errors just at the threshold of audibility, we might not notice. But what if we have two such circuits in series, such as a preamplifier and a power amplifier that both have phase response errors? Or, if there were phase response errors in the equipment used in the recording studio, and then the recording is listened to on a home system that also has phase response issues? In such cases the total error would be well within the region of audibility. So what defines the frequency and phase response of a circuit? Let us take a triode tube circuit as an example. The tube alone cannot do much. In order to amplify audio, it needs to be in a basic circuit with a few additional components around it, plus a power supply. The triode tube’s internal control grid – the part that controls the flow of electrons from the cathode to the anode and modulates the musical signal – is biased at a particular operating point by defining the potential of the grid with respect to the cathode. (see my article ion Iissue 103 for an explanation of vacuum tube operation.) The cathode is heated and the anode is at an elevated (electrical) potential, so current flows between anode and cathode. The current flow is controlled by the grid. A voltage develops across the load connected to the tube, due to the current flowing through it (Ohm’s Law: V = IR where V is voltage, I is current and R is resistance). As such, connecting a DC voltage to the biased grid would change its bias point and hence the current flow, also changing the voltage across the load. This is a basic DC amplifier. If we modulate the grid potential by connecting an AC signal to it, then the current through the tube and voltage across the load will vary according to the frequency of the AC signal to the grid. This is a typical audio amplifier. As we can see, the triode itself can amplify from 0 Hz (DC) upwards. But can it go on amplifying regardless of frequency?

Excerpt from the original Western Electric 300B data sheet.>

Past a certain frequency, the amplification becomes progressively less. This is primarily due to the fact that the grid, anode and cathode, being in close proximity to each other, exhibit capacitance. This capacitance, together with the source resistance of the circuit that drives the grid, form a low-pass filter, which acts to suppress frequencies above the (filter’s) cutoff point. Many vacuum tubes were designed to be able to also act as radio frequency amplifiers, so it is common for a triode to be able to linearly (equally) amplify frequencies from 0 Hz to several megahertz, making it eminently suitable as a near-perfect amplification device for the audio range. Sadly, this is not the whole picture. The output is superimposed on the DC supply voltage and in most real life circuits, we must find a way to remove this DC offset and leave only the AC signal at the output. A simple way of accomplishing this is by means of a capacitor, to block the DC and pass the AC. This would create a high-pass filter, which together with the input resistance of the following circuit, would limit the low frequency response. The cut-off frequency, below which the response will drop off, is defined by the value of capacitance we choose. Choosing a larger capacitor will improve to low frequency response, but would significantly increase the cost. Instead of a capacitor, we could use a transformer. Similarly, a transformer that would allow a better low-frequency response would result in a much higher cost. These are just two examples of the many similar decisions which must be made at the design stage. It is always a trade-off of performance versus cost. The performance can almost always be improved at a much higher cost, but past a certain point, the equipment is no longer marketable. Mass manufacturing relies on being able to sell a certain number of units, which necessitates compromises in performance to meet a certain price point. This is why there is still a market for custom audio equipment, for situations where certain performance requirements must be met regardless of cost, which would not necessarily be appealing to a larger audience and therefore enable mass manufacturing. Even with the basic design decisions on paper, the practical implementation of a circuit is a whole new challenge. Tubes of the same type are not all identical in electrical characteristics, so in many cases they need to be tested, selected and matched for a particular circuit, to perform as intended. Inevitably, this leads to rejected tubes, increasing the manufacturing cost.

A transmitting triode tube in the lab, undergoing testing. Photo courtesy of Agnew Analog Reference Instruments.

Then comes component selection. A real-life resistor is never just a resistor. Its resistance varies with temperature. It exhibits inductance. Its placement in a circuit in close proximity to wiring, circuit board traces, or other components, will result in capacitance! An inductor has resistance and self-capacitance. A capacitor can also exhibit inductance and resistance effects. Even just a straight piece of wire has measurable resistance, inductance and even capacitance to nearby wires! All these effects conspire to ruin the near-perfect audio performance of the triode itself in any practical circuit. The designer must go to great lengths to calculate these effects and ensure that they are not allowed to impair the performance of the circuit. As always, the limit is usually economically imposed, to keep the product marketable. Better resistors and capacitors do exist and even better wires exist. There is nothing overly esoteric about this; these effects are all measurable if one knows what to measure. In my experience, if I can hear a difference between two components, I can most probably measure the difference and scientifically describe the underlying mechanism. I do rely a lot on measurements, but at the same time, I encourage consumers who do not have access to measurement instruments or an engineering background to trust their ears. If you hear a difference, it is usually because there is a difference! So how are frequency and phase response related to music? Each note has a fundamental frequency and each musical instrument can cover a certain range of notes. There is, however, a difference in sound between two different violins playing the same note. If identically tuned, the fundamental of the note would be the same frequency for both. The characteristic sound of each violin comes from the relative amplitude and timing of the harmonics it generates. And even if the frequencies of the harmonics were all identical, differences in the phase or amplitude would produce a different wave shape for each instrument, which would excite our auditory mechanisms differently. A accurate frequency and phase response in an audio component or loudspeaker is therefore essential to maintain and reproduce such subtle and not-so-subtle differences, as well as maintain the contribution of the acoustics in the performance space as captured in a recording. As an even more extreme example: if the frequency response of a piece of equipment or loudspeaker drops at low frequencies, within the range of an instrument such as a bass or piano, a passage consisting of notes of decreasing pitch would appear as if the performer is playing each successive note more softly, even when they were originally performed at equal loudness. It could even be that the lowest notes of the bottom octave of the range of the instrument would disappear completely, effectively altering the composition and performance! In conclusion, in the frequency and phase domains, linearity refers to the ability of a circuit to maintain equal amplitude, without phase errors, at all frequencies within a specific range. In the next episode, we will discuss dynamic linearity. Conventional current is said to flow from anode to cathode, which is opposite to actual electron flow, which is from cathode to anode…! This is just to confuse the bejesus out of outsiders and keep our trade exclusive, in pretty much the same way that medical terminology is still expressed by doctors in a combination of ancient Greek and Latin, both obsolete languages which are not even related to each other and have not been in use anywhere in the world for several centuries now.

It's the morning after the July 11, 1976 concert in Hyannis Port's Cape Cod Coliseum. Once again the limousine doesn’t show. Annoyingly, this has become a regular theme on the Kiss Destroyer tour. I’m Kiss’ road manager so I’m the one who has to deal with it. I'm standing in the empty parking lot of the beachfront hotel as the band starts coming out of their bungalows. They walk over to me and Paul Stanley, the co-lead singer and rhythm guitarist asks me, “Ken, why did this happen again?” Honestly, I didn't have an answer, but, cancel the morning limo and the promoter saves two hundred bucks, and besides, the show is over and what’s anyone going to do? In the end, the only person irritated is me. I have to move fast or we'll miss our plane home. I go to the front desk and they call a couple of cabs for us and we head off the airport. We just make the flight and an hour later we're landing at LaGuardia. Three limos are waiting to pick us up: one for drummer Peter Criss to take him to his East 30th Street apartment, another for lead guitarist Ace Frehley, who is heading to Tarrytown, NY, and the last one for Paul, me and bassist Gene Simmons, the guy who spits flames and is famous for sticking out his big tongue. Ah, the glamorous life of a rock and roll road manager. At this point, the tour is about a quarter of the way though and while my job is on top of the Kiss organization food chain, the pay won’t make me rich and it's not that much fun either. And the tour is such a big operation that, unlike other road managers, I don't have control over how the tour runs. When I was the road manager for mid-level rock groups like the Byrds or Jefferson Airplane, I was the go-to guy handling everything – the box office, road crew, travel arrangements, money, salaries, solving problems. With Kiss I just deal with the group and their logistics only. The guys in the band are nice enough, but I'm strictly hired help, their hand-holder. Rehearsals for the Destroyer tour in support of the album of the same name started in the late spring of 1976 at Stewart Air Force Base in Newburgh, NY, an hour's drive north of Manhattan. Because of the size of the production we had to rent a whole airplane hangar. It was an impressive sight – a big coliseum-sized stage with full lighting gear inside that humongous building. With a production of this scale, rehearsing the performance, working out lighting cues and timing the special effects was crucial for both the band and crew. I have to say, the show was pretty amazing, with explosions, smoking guitars and tricks like Gene breathing fire and Peter's drum kit levitating twenty feet over the stage. All this required a big crew of 63 techs and roadies. There's so much equipment that it takes three tractor trailers to lug the gear, lights and sound. The set up is so involved that we needed to more than a day for load-in and setup. As a result, there were never shows on two days in a row, unless they were at the same venue. In late May the rehearsals end and we load up for the road. That's a rehearsal in itself. The band and I head back to Manhattan. We’ll fly to the first show in two days. Here's a video of Kiss live in 1976: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fpv4wEqpRw8 Before a show, I generally stand on the right side of the stage and watch the audience file in. The most interesting thing at a Kiss show for me is that the first couple of rows were always these ten and twelve-year-old boys in full Kiss costumes and make-up, accompanied by their parents. Who would want to go to a concert with their parents? Then again, they were too young to go alone. No one outside of the crew has privy to our travel plans (it was in the days before cell phones and news traveling instantly on social media) so for the most part, we're not stalked, but there were a few times when the fans and groupies found us. There were a lot of groupies. One night was particularly memorable for me. It was getting close to the 4th of July and in celebration, the audience is joining in throwing firecrackers and M-80s (really big firecrackers that were about the size of a thumb) at the stage. Times were wilder then – it wasn’t even considered wrong or dangerous. We're playing Knoxville, Tennessee. It's the middle of the concert, the part where the drum kit rises twenty feet in the air. An M-80 goes off near the raised drum kit platform – and drummer Peter Criss slumps over. The crew frantically lowers the drum platform. A uniformed Tennessee state trooper (who is moonlighting as concert security) and I grab Peter before he falls off the drum stool. He's unconscious as we rush him into the back seat of a limo. I don’t see the limo driver anywhere and there are no keys in the ignition. What am I going to do? The state trooper dives head first into the front seat and somehow he gets the limo started. He stomps on the gas and we drive out of the coliseum, heading for the nearest hospital. Suddenly, Peter regains consciousness. “Where am I?” Peter says. I tell him what happened and he says, “I'm fine, let's go back.” The trooper does a screeching U-turn and we're heading back to the coliseum, driving back down the ramp to the backstage area. The dressing room staff is standing there and as they take Peter to the dressing room. I ask, “is the band here?” “No,” the make-up girl says, “They went back to the hotel.” I turn to the trooper and ask, “Can you drive me there?” “Let's go!” he says with a big grin on his face. With the smell of rubber burning and tires smoking the limo slides sideways into the lobby entrance. I run into the lobby – and both of the elevators are on the top floor. With no time to spare I run to the stairs and sprint up the six flights to our floor. I get to Gene's room just as he just started undoing his knee pads and leggings. As luck would have it, Ace and Paul are in Gene’s room. I tell them, “Peter's OK and we have to go back!” My concern was that the audience might have left – and we’d have to forfeit the $35,000 due the band, a huge amount of money in those days. Gene asks me to help put his leggings back on and, out of breath with my hands shaking, I clip on his knee pads and leg covers. The band and I take the elevator back down and jump in the limo. The trooper, who has been waiting, swiftly drives us back. We rush to the dressing room, checking makeup and costumes, making sure that everyone is ready to go back on. Everyone set? Yup, so I have Peter go out first. He starts to bang the drums, the lights dim and the place goes crazy, stamping their feet and cheering as the band walks back on stage. Who would believe it? Fifty-two minutes have passed and not one person has left the coliseum. What was that I said about the job not being very much fun? This is why I love the road. Now I'm having fun.

Ken then...

...Ken now.

If you’ve ever strummed a guitar while singing, you can thank English composer John Dowland (1563-1626) for helping to popularize the accompaniment of voice with a fretted string instrument. His preference was the lute, but it served the same purpose. Many people are only familiar with this Renaissance composer because of Sting’s very nice album of Dowland pieces, Songs from the Labyrinth (2006). But from its inception in the 1960s, the classical early-music scene has loved Dowland and strived to capture his particular brand of melancholy in the studio (search for Julian Bream on your favorite streaming platform if you’re curious). That tradition continues, with several new recordings out in the past 12 months. If he’s known at all, it’s for his vocal music, so let’s start there. Between 1597 and 1603 Dowland published three books of songs and airs (or Bookes of Songes and Ayres, as it was spelled at the time), each containing over 20 works for solo voice with lute accompaniment, a genre commonly known as “lute song.” The concept seems simple enough, but sometimes when musical lines are more exposed, it’s easier to see their flaws. Case in point: Argentinian soprano Mariana Flores recently made a recording with lutenist Hopkinson Smith on Naïve Music, called Dowland: Whose Heavenly Touch. The lute part fares better than the vocal part in this case. Here’s the buoyant “Come Again.” Flores and Smith manage dancelike ensemble motion that’s belies Dowland’s reputation for being dour. But the delightful energy is marred by Flores’ diction. While I fully understand that English is not her native tongue, the science of diction pedagogy using the International Phonetic Alphabet is now commonplace for voice students in music schools, so there’s no excuse for any language to be so mishandled by a professional singer. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m0m52NSKzao While the lithe melody of “Come Again” is a pleasure no matter how you sing it, the delivery of the more heart-wrenching stuff provides the real Dowland test. Unfortunately, Flores’ singing of the emotionally and harmonically complex “I Saw My Lady Weep” demonstrates her lack of a profound understanding of either aspect. I hear no evidence that she understands the meaning of the poem, nor does she take advantage of the juicy dissonances that Dowland provides to deepen the song’s sorrow. Smith provides a clean and well thought out accompaniment even if his partner doesn’t meet him halfway. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehG7qUswy_8 Simply titled Dowland, the new recording by Israeli countertenor Doron Schleifer, accompanied by lutenist Orí Harmelin, was self-published by the artists. Gone are the days when “self-published” automatically meant “low-quality.” Schleifer surely has his reasons to eschew the studio establishment, and he has put together an admirable collection of tracks. “A Shepherd in a Shade” flows with charming rubato despite too-frequent slides into notes. That alone might be enough for more conservative labels to pass on signing Schleifer – the style is unashamedly theatrical and not obsessed with “authentic” early-music vocal technique. On the other hand, we’re living in a world where Sting had a best-selling Dowland album (well deserved!), so all approaches should be welcome for consideration. I think this works pretty well. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4GXVIQAcKK8&list=OLAK5uy_kFfCUGk7YSDiyZDHGQIBwZOXD-f1dlPWw&index=5 Schleifer’s approach also works in the melancholic sphere when he sings “Flow My Teares” with intelligent phrasing, relying less on the swoops he used in the cheerier number. His clear voice is supported by Harmelin’s expressive playing. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FdA__aS-AU0&list=OLAK5uy_kFfCUGk7YSDiyZDHGQIBwZOXD-f1dlPWw&index=16 Despite its title, the album also includes some non-Dowland material from the late 16^th-century, such as Giulio Caccini’s “Amarilli mia bella” and a particularly fleet but fluid version of Pierre Guédron’s “Si le parler et le silence.” Dowland, who made his living by writing both for private patrons (the king of Denmark in particular) and for his publisher in London, found it lucrative to produce both vocal music and pieces just for instruments. The best known in that latter category are his Lachrimae (“Tears”), from 1604. This is a set of seven variations on a mournful melody called a pavan (classical music fans might recognize the more common French spelling, pavane). The Lachrimae are usually played by an ensemble of viols of different sizes (bowed instruments similar to violin/viola/cello, but with frets across the fingerboards). In the new recording by the Opera Prima Consort (Brilliant Classics), led by Cristiano Contadin, the viols are joined by baroque violin (Fiorenza de Donatis and Andrea Rognoni), lute (Miguel Rincon), and recorder (Giulia Genini). The result is a layered and impassioned sound – ideal for this repertoire exploring sadness. The “Lacrimae antiquae” (Ancient Tears) movement is a rich tapestry of desolation, with the Contandin’s ensemble phrasing in great, sighing breaths. The added textures of the non-viol instruments bring a new rugged dimension to the music. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHALTuaZndU&list=OLAK5uy_mzBuZ_IMG3mDwcQSGjB8lE2-R30z1UMdQ For those who want to understand Dowland in the context of other composers for viol, Brilliant Classics also offers this Lacrimae as the first disc in a collection called Viola da Gamba Edition, which features a historical range of composers reaching all the way to J.S. Bach in the 18^th century. Another segment of Dowland’s instrumental-only output are his pieces for solo lute. That repertoire is represented on Dowland: Works for Lute (Performed on Guitar), played by English guitarist Michael Butten and released by First Hand Records. Butten is a winner of the Julian Bream Prize, which the groundbreaking guitarist/lutenist (now 77), first-generation early-music advocate, founded and still judges himself. I can’t think of a more promising recommendation for a recording of Dowland transcriptions. My anticipation was indeed rewarded. Butten’s playing is as accurate as it is sensitive, communicating a complete idea with each sentence and phrase. He keeps the contrapuntal voices separate and clear while shaping them into an intentional whole. Here’s the stately “Frog Galliard”: httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P22WSzdGLt8&list=OLAK5uy_lEPQ36OG841VmY7gBRBIH-2BeHkU-VqoY&index=5 Parting caveat for those seeking further Dowland to stream: Beware a new two-volume set, The John Dowland Arrangements, by an entity called Nova Sonora Music. That’s not an early-music ensemble; turns out it’s a computer program. So, if you don’t like your Dowland played “in the robotic style,” you should steer well clear of this soulless digital travesty and spend your money on the work of musicians trained in early music who play physical, acoustic instruments!

Although Bread was a Los Angeles band, its roots stretched over the state line into Oklahoma. In the vibrant Tulsa music scene of the 1950s, singer and guitarist David Gates (b. 1940) had plenty of opportunities to dip his toe into the music business. And there was forward-thinking talent to burn: His high school band, The Accents, cut a single in 1957 on Atlantic. When Gates’ family moved to LA, he discovered another creative culture fomenting. The most important connection he made there was with bass guitarist Robb Royer, whose band The Pleasure Fair used Gates as producer and arranger. The Pleasure Fair’s songwriter was Jimmy Griffin, who filled out the essential trio that became Bread. In 1968 they signed with Elektra. Although their debut album, Bread (1969), didn’t crack the top 100, its single “It Don’t Matter to Me” hit the No. 2 spot during its second release in 1970. Using multi-tracking, the three men provided a wide range of instruments, including violin, viola, Hammond organ, recorder, flute, and RMI electric piano. They contributed a variety of percussion sounds, but none of them felt comfortable enough with a kit to be the main drummer. To fill that role, they hired session musicians Jim Gordon and Ron Edgar. Bread immediately set up a kind of songwriting dichotomy: Some tracks are by Gates, and some are co-written by Royer and Griffin. “Dismal Day,” which opens side A, a Gates song, was the album’s first single. While it did not exactly catch fire with the public, it’s a good introduction to the band’s typcially sharp, tight rhythm and the wide pitch range of its vocals. The song is also characteristic of Gates’ compositional and lyric-writing style, which tends toward the pop side of things. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nXy4Rjugtug From side B comes “Family Doctor,” credited to Griffin and Royer, who had a taste for quirkier, more introspective songs. There’s a lot to admire in the instrumental arrangement of the accompaniment, taking advantage of the timbres of the different types of keyboards and using the flute in limited but effective ways. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4g88vtZEsy0 The band had much greater commercial success with their second album, On the Waters (1970). They also got themselves a full-time drummer, Mike Botts. On the Waters yielded Bread’s first and only No. 1 hit single, “Make It with You,” by Gates. (It was at this point that Elektra had the savvy idea to re-release “It Don’t Matter to Me” from the older album.) In fact, most of the cuts chosen as singles on all their albums were Gates numbers, since he had that frothy, mainstream touch. Griffin and Royer’s work, leaning toward the darker and less conventional, is therefore less well known. I don’t doubt that the band’s legacy would be different – and stronger – today if the Griffin/Royer contributions had been given wider exposure. “Call on Me” demonstrates Griffin/Royer’s bluesy, minor-key sound. Botts’ drumming is notable for using the pitch areas on the drum set (i.e., the lowest sounds on the bass drum to highest on the hi-hat cymbal) to mimic the repeating guitar hook. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjizbIen1T4 This is not to say that Gates never wrote any worthwhile songs. On the 1971 album Manna, he offered up not only his usual pop hits (the singles “If” and “Let Your Love Go”), but also the touching “Come Again.” This song’s serpentine melody, combined with the free rhythm of the lyrics and the metrical change mid-verse, gives it a greater level of interest than much of Gates’ output. The instrumental bridge section, starting with chromatic motions in the piano and strings and becoming heavy enough to count as prog rock, is also outside his usual style. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovq1ilojbNk Royer had left the band in 1971 and was replaced by keyboard/bass player Larry Knechtel.Bread released two albums in 1972, despite growing unrest among the bandmembers. The first of these was Baby I’m-a Want You. Its title track was the biggest single from this album, reaching No. 3. It is very much a sign of his times to find Gates stretching to political satire with his song “This Isn’t What the Governmeant.” What’s less expected for this era of unrest is the fact that the lyrics focus not on the Vietnam war (although that is mentioned halfway through), but on how annoying it is to pay taxes. This song is more of a playful swipe than deep-cutting sarcasm. The humorous griping is delivered as a Texas line-dancin’ toe-tapper. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uf90rOMYihU The second album of 1972 was Guitar Man. Again, the title song was the biggest single, although this time the top position was only No. 11. The departure of Royer seems to have opened up an opportunity for drummer Botts, who gets his first writing credit for the song “Fancy Dancer.” The appealing funk influence (nicely led by Knechtel’s bass licks) makes this sound like it could be a whole different band. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MClm0HxeFPc After squeezing two albums into the year 1972, Bread ended up taking a five-year hiatus from the studio. One of the primary factors for the temporary split was Griffin’s (understandable) frustration that Gates’ songs always got on the A-sides of their singles. It didn’t help that the band also had most of their concert equipment stolen in 1973. They finally came out with their next – and final – album in 1977, called Lost Without Your Love. The lineup was the same as it had been for the previous two records. For the third time in a row, it was the title track that performed best on the charts. But I think the best song is the last one on the album, “Our Lady of Sorrow,” credited to Griffin/Royer (Royer had left a backlog of unrecorded songs, apparently). It’s a haunting and beautiful melody with a slight Latin flavor and emboldened by a surprising major-key twist at the end of each chorus. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2SLRI-F7mc Sorry to break it to the fans, but Bread has no chance at a late-life reunion tour. David Gates got out of the music business decades ago to become a cattle rancher. Jimmy Griffin started the band The Remingtons, which had moderate success in the 1990s. He died in 2005, not long after collaborating with Rick Yancey and Ronnie Guilbeau on a recording/touring project called GYG. Mike Botts also died in 2005, with Knechtel following in 2009. Robb Royer, who is still living but apparently retired, had the longest music career, capping it in 2010 by completing a project he and Griffin had started, a rock opera called The Plastic Sibling. The work, which had a libretto by playwright David Kaufman, was about an electronics nerd named Cosmo who builds a female robot that eventually becomes more and more human. Do I hear Broadway calling?

In 1976 Steely Dan released The Royal Scam, their fifth album. One of my all-time favorite songs, “Kid Charlemagne,” is on this disc. Donald Fagen would describe the lyrics as “loosely based” on Owsley “Bear” Stanley’s adventures. While the music played, you worked by candlelight Those San Francisco nights You were the best in town Just by chance you crossed the diamond with the pearl You turned it on the world That's when you turned the world around... ...On the hill the stuff was laced with kerosene But yours was kitchen-clean Everyone stopped to stare at your technicolor motor home (OK, technically a Ken Kesey reference but Stanley’s in there somewhere) Every A-Frame had your number on the wall You must have had it all You'd go to L.A. on a dare and you'd go it alone... ...Clean this mess up else we'll all end up in jail Those test tubes and the scale Just get it all out of here Is there gas in the car? Yes, there's gas in the car I think the people down the hall know who you are... “Kid Charlemagne,” 1976 Walter Becker/Donald Fagen Excuse me. What part of that is not about our man? Couple that with the stories of Stanley dressing in Renaissance duds for the Acid Tests (parties held by Ken Kesey in the 1960s where LSD was distributed) and we fade to black. By the time Bear got out of prison and went back to the Grateful Dead (see Part Three of this series), times had changed dramatically. The stage crew had morphed into a semi-autonomous gang of macho rowdies snorting mountains of coke and causing beer shortages in Milwaukee. To Stanley the atmosphere was out of control. Because of his absence, when he returned he had no real authority over the crew, some of whom didn’t even know who he was. He told Dead biographer Dennis McNally that at the time, he felt he was told, “Here’s a piece of your job back, just a taste. Now stand over there.” (Part One and Part Two of this series can be read in Issues 103 and 104.) Still Bear stayed on as soundman for another three years. The Dead had become obsessed with concert sound and eventually realized they needed a sound system that would eclipse anything currently in use at the time – and there was only one man who could design it. They authorized Bear to design and construct his lifetime crowning achievement, the Wall of Sound. If you net-search “Wall of Sound” you’ll first get music producer Phil Spector. Spector was known in the sixties for engorged orchestral recordings with multiple drummers, bass players, guitarists and so on, which resulted in bloated-sounding performances. My research did not turn up who named the Dead’s sound system The Wall of Sound and even Bear was quoted that “somebody named the system.” I’m shocked that loony Spector didn’t sue. However one would be hard pressed to come up with a better name. Stanley is credited with the design but long-time Dead sound man Dan Healy as well as crew members like Steve Parish, who had to build most of the equipment like the speaker cabinets and the scaffolding, were all heavily involved with the project. Bear’s unique idea was to create a single sound source for each instrument and voice. Garcia had a single column of stacked speakers with very high gain, stacked in a way to multiply the sound and bring the guitar evenly to the audience anywhere from six feet to 600 feet away. Phil Lesh’s bass was channeled through a quadraphonic encoder that sent signals from each of the four strings to a separate channel and set of speakers for each string. In the documentary film Long Strange Trip Lesh related how much he loved that sound of his bass coming from four different spaces. As Bear himself explained, “The entire system consisted of a cluster of line arrays that I developed and then tested in the way that line arrays work. Number one in a line array, if it’s composed of three different clusters, each of which is a certain frequency range with a crossover, then the bass is the longest column of speakers, the midrange is shorter, and the highs are shorter than that. But, much like a radio transmitter, they must all be the same radiating length. Each array must be as wide as it is tall or it doesn’t work right, and you can’t hang them in isolation.” Man, I understand about half of dat. The stage system stood forty feet high and seventy feet wide and sported 88 15 inch JBL speakers, 174 12-inch JBL speakers, 288 5-inch JBL speakers, (dude, remember how popular JBLs were?) and 54 Electro-Voice tweeters. The sound was powered by 26,000 watts generated by 55 McIntosh MC2300 amps. Giddyup. The system was designed to be positioned behind the band so that they were hearing the same sound as the audience. Bear and John Curl from Alembic (yes, that John Curl) had to design a special microphone system to prevent feedback. They placed matched pairs of condenser microphones spaced 60 mm apart and run out of phase with each other. The vocalist sang into the top microphone, and the lower mic picked up whatever other sound was present in the stage environment. The signals were then added together using a differential summing amp, so that the sound common to both mics (the stage sound coming from the Wall) was canceled, and only the vocals were amplified. Yer kidding. This from a kid who didn’t graduate high school. All of this required a crew of sixteen, two sets of scaffolding, and four semis to haul the stuff around. Setting up the Wall of Sound was so time-intensive that the crews would leapfrog each other, sending a crew and a set of scaffolding ahead to start setting up the next gig before the first gig was even torn down. I’ve seen film of this beast being setup and it’s scary stuff. Grateful Dead drummer Bill Kreutzmann was quoted describing the Wall of Sound as “Owsley’s brain in material form.” It accomplished what the Dead were after but Bear had created a monster that had a life of its own, was not friendly and could not be domesticated. Sound-wise everyone agreed it was gorgeous. But it was ultimately part of a journey. Debuting in its first form in February 1973 at Stanford University’s Maples Pavilion, every tweeter blew at the onset of the Dead’s first number. Sparks and lights flashing. Crowd went wild. The bugs were worked out and the completed version was in place in March 1974 for the tour beginning at the Cow Palace in Daly City, CA. But by October serious friction arose in the band. The demands of the high payroll, the costs of hauling stuff around and the weirdness of heavy drug use was wearing everyone down. The Grateful Dead decided to go on hiatus, and when they began touring again in 1976 the Wall of Sound had been dismantled and a more logistical-friendly touring setup put in place. When the Dead did begin touring again Bear was replaced with Dan Healy at the mixing board. Phil Lesh hired Stanley as his personal roadie and Bear did accompany the band on their Egypt gig in 1978. But after their return to the states Stanley never worked for the band again. He was hired by Jefferson Starship as their onstage monitor mixer but that ended in 1979 and so did Bear’s career as a soundman. In 1984 Stanley had become convinced a second ice age was coming. Bear tried to convince everyone around him to move to Australia, in his mind the safest refuge. He moved and eventually squatted on 126 acres in a rural corner of northeast Australia near Atherton in Queensland. It took the local authorities two years to realize he was there. By then Bear had built sheds, a reticulated water system, a septic system and a nine-kilowatt generator to provide electricity. The authorities were not happy and tried to get rid of Stanley, but he had managed to build and maintain a viable farm and a two-family community in what was generously a no-man’s land. And no one was ever more ready for a fight than our boy. Ultimately the locals agreed to give him 26 acres, which Bear felt wasn’t enough. So he hired a crew and fenced in the entire 126 acres. By the time the dust settled he had a 99-year lease on the land. And of course he turned it into what Bob Weir would call “a sort of science fiction version” of the hippie communes. He’d acquired portable and diesel generators. He installed two solar energy systems and a wind generator on a hundred-foot-high tower. Stanley married and traveled back and forth from Australia to the States, keeping in touch with friends. As he got older his health began declining and in 2004 he was diagnosed with stage IV squamous cell carcinoma. He beat the disease but only barely. Even after a full recovery he had trouble swallowing and had to drink all of his food. The radiation therapy had been aggressive and caused weight loss, muscle problems in his neck and speech problems. His wife Sheila related they determined later that the doctors had over-dosed on the radiation and Bear was lucky to be alive. Stanley had been a fighter his entire life; a disease was not going to get him. He would be all right with what would get him. On March 12, 2007 Bear was traveling with his wife Sheila on the dicey road to their compound when the car went off the road. She made it, Bear did not. He was survived by his wife, four children, eight grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. *** This has been a fun look into a genius and fevered mind. Owsley “Bear” Stanley’s contributions to the Grateful Dead in general and specifically their philosophy on live sound quality are evident in his legacy and his gift to us all: the thousands of feet of live tapes of the Grateful Dead’s performances while he did sound as a part of the Dead family. I have thoroughly enjoyed this journey and my hope is you have as well. If you just can’t get enough about Bear I suggest you read Robert Greenfield’s Bear: The Life and Times of Augustus Owsley Stanley III which was invaluable in my research. Bear’s website, thebear.org, is still accessible as well, where you can see his jewelry designs and read his stories and essays. Last note: In 2005 Bear found out The Oxford English Dictionary had added a word: “owsley, N. An extremely potent, high-quality type of LSD; a tablet of this. Frequently attributive, esp. as Owsley acid.” Bear was quoted as considering this the single greatest honor of his life. Keep on truckin’ buddy. Wall of Sound image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Mary Ann Mayer.

Ever since the Sony Walkman became a private music listening platform sensation in the late 1970s, headphone design and specs have continued to improve, with the consumer, professional and audiophile markets all progressing and slowly but inexorably blurring into each other. The mainstream consumer has moved from the initial novelty of portable headphones to earbud ubiquity. The average pedestrian on the street in most metropolitan cities will, more often than not, be sporting earbuds and will either be listening to music or conducting a phone conversation. Ironically, the lower fidelity that resulted from the data compression of convenient mp3 files has caused a resurgence of interest in better sound-quality equipment to fill that void. Headphones, digital audio (digital to analog) converters or DACs, headphone amplifiers, in-ear monitors (IEMs), earbud tips, high-quality cables and connectors and other related gear have made great technological strides, both in terms of utilizing new materials and engineering in designs, as well as improved ergonomics to maximize the enjoyment of the listening experience. CanJam NYC 2020, held on February 15 - 16 in Manhattan's New York Marriott Marquis in Times Square, demonstrated this trend in full. In stark contrast to Bluetooth iPod earbuds or garish, bass-heavy Beats (no offense to Dr. Dre), a competitively-priced range of consumer headphones and earbuds with phenomenally superior sound quality were showcased alongside new designs for professional studio recording, mixing and ultra-high-end audiophile-grade music listening environments. Additionally, numerous new companies, as well as long established ones, debuted their latest products, some of them successfully combining space-age engineering and hybrid materials with exotic woods to complement a retro aesthetic embrace of old school tech. CanJam was surprisingly well attended, which demonstrated that the hunger for premium audio listening quality has resurfaced in this new era of private audio. A significant percentage of attendees to the New York show were millennials or even Gen Z kids still in middle school or high school. Composer and producer David Chesky, who attended CanJam NYC 2020, commented back in Copper #30 that “The younger generation is into taking their music with them. So I’ve seen this explosion in the headphone market.” This observation was undoubtedly corroborated by the overwhelming majority of millennial reps and entrepreneurs who had booths at CanJam. This headphone explosion has been heard around the globe. CanJam, which was founded by Jude Mansilla and Ethan Opolion of Head-Fi.org, started in 2006 and has grown internationally, with shows in Singapore, Shenzhen, London, and Shanghai, as well as in Chicago, Southern California and NYC. In addition to the vendor and manufacturer showcase booths, CanJam 2020 NYC also sponsored a number of seminars, featuring:

• The history of DAC design, from Rob Watts of Chord Electronics in the UK;
• Dan Foley of Audio Precision on total harmonic distortion (THD), the differences between actual listening vs. measured specs, and the testing of headphones vs. loudspeakers;
• Chinese CamJam sponsor Dunu held a seminar on its radical design innovations for its LUNA series;
• An open panel Q&A featuring Watts, Foley, representatives from Audeze, Dan Clark Audio, HEDD Audio, and others;

And lastly, a seminar to address the elephant in the room – probably be more akin to a dragon –the seemingly overnight influx of world-class-level in-ear and headphone designs and products that now come from China. With nearly 100 different exhibitors covering the gamut from manufacturers to distributors and reps, CanJam NYC 2020 was comprehensive without becoming overwhelming. The dedication to quality was pervasive across the spectrum, with an impressive camaraderie not often seen among rival competitors in a niche market. The following (to be continued in Part Two of this report) are some impressive products and moments that left the biggest impressions on me: Young Turks The aforementioned new players in the field were making impressive presentations with some superb products. In-ear monitors (IEM) have become a standard in professional audio among musicians and singers as a way to deliver clearer monitor mixes, and preserve hearing and prevent tinnitus due to excessive SPL (sound pressure levels) that can occur at stage volumes especially when using traditional on-stage monitor speakers. While a great number of US and Chinese companies no carry IEM models in their catalogs, one company from Korea may have created the inside track in their effort to corner the working pro and semi pro musician’s market. Launched in 2012, South Korea-based AME Custom’s lineup of customized IEMs garnered a sizable amount of traffic to their table. With miniaturized (what AME calls “micro engineered) multiple drivers and a choice of jewellike abalone, mother of pearl, and custom-painted housings, AME’s IEMs had incredible instrument separation and offered excellent isolation from outside noise. The AME triple-hybrid electrostatic Radioso ($1,450) and 4-driver Gravitas ($715) were especially outstanding. The Radioso features a low-frequency dynamic driver, mid-frequency balanced armature driver and four high-frequency electrostatic tweeters, hence the triple-hybrid designation. AME’s top-level 12-driver J12U-12BA ($2,100) is one of AME’s best sellers in Japan. However, their most amazing offering, which AME rep Earl Chon told me was being especially aimed at the US market, was a single-driver IEM at a $99.00 price that wasn’t even on their website yet: the J1U. In terms of bang for the buck, the J1U easily outperformed some of the costlier competitors’ IEM models and could conceivably displace the popular Shure SE535, a standard among working musicians – it’s that good. With probably a good 90% or so of the exhibitors using high-resolution audio files or streaming sound sources like Spotify, Andover Audio’s Model One Record Player was an excellent reminder for audio enthusiasts of the joys of pristine vinyl records and how their analog sound can differ markedly from digital. Founded in 2012 as a design company for hire in the consumer audio, telecom and auto industries, Andover’s flagship product under its own brand name is the Model One, a $2,500 self-contained record player system with a Pro-Ject Debut Carbon Espirit SB turntable, carbon fiber tonearm, and Ortofon OM2 cartridge. The Model One features four 3.5-inch aluminum woofers, dual air motion tweeters, and a 200-watts of bi-amplified Class D power, as well as a dedicated headphone amp. The latter was wonderfully full-sounding while listening to the Tedeschi Trucks Band’s, Revelation LP. Andover’s open-backed PM-50 Planar Magnetic Headphones ($500) were an excellent complement to the Model One for private listening. The Model One also is available with a subwoofer ($800) and LP storage cabinet options. Hailing from Berwyn, IL outside of Chicago, ZMF Headphones has been making high-end audio boutique products since 2011. A former student of acoustic guitar lutherie, founder Zach Mehrback has applied some of this training towards the design of ZMF’s headphone baffles, which are similar to acoustic guitar soundboards. ZMF’s product offerings are somewhat unique in their approach, which specifically caters to various listening tastes. Some of ZMF’s models include the warm sounding Atticus ($1,099.99) with its mid-bass hump, the massive sounding sub-bass-pronounced Eikon ($1,399.99), and the open airiness of the Aeolus ($1,199.99). Their top of the line Verite ($2,499.99), available in both closed- and open-back configurations, sports vapor-deposited-beryllium drivers, and displayed a depth and breadth of sound that unmistakably added deeper colors to the music sources – a sonic enhancement that could be described as “larger than life.” Far from having a flat response, the ZMFs color sound, in my opinion, in many desirable ways that Apple’s Beats fail to or accomplish poorly. Listening to the pristine solo piano recordings of Ryuichi Sakamoto, recordings from Radiohead and orchestral film soundtracks, the Verite’s enhanced sound was like an aural version of Blu-Ray. The Verite’s specs cite sensitivity at 99 dB SPL/mw and a measured impedance of 300 ohms, thus making a smartphone output jack too weak to fully hear what the Verite can do. ZMF Headphones come in a variety of hardwoods, chosen for sonic qualities as well as visual aesthetics. Choices include silkwood, sapele, cocobolo, pheasantwood, purple heart, ziricote, monkeypod, ironwood, leopardwood, maple, camphor, zebrawood, cherry, African blackwood, and Manchurian ash! They also come in a variety of ear pad shapes and densities, which can further tailor the sound from the neutral to the warm end of the spectrum. Old Dogs with New Tricks With close to 60 years in the audio industry, Audio-Technica has gone from becoming a turntable cartridge and stylus specialty company to a full-fledged pro and consumer audio titan, and one of the few Japanese companies other than Sony to successfully maintain its presence in both camps. A-T microphones have become a favorite of many recording artists in the studio, and their shotgun mics are a reliable standby on many film shoot locations. However, the focus of the show was headphones, and A-T’s latest offerings, slated to hit the market in March 2020, were their exotic-wood-finished ATH-AWKT ($1,899) and ATH-AWAS ($1,399) audiophile over-ear headphones. Designed for comfort and performance, the ATH-AWKT and ATH-AWAS both utilize exotic hardwoods (striped ebony Kokutan for the AWKT and Asada Zakura ironwood for the AWAS) to suppress unwanted resonances, a proven technique in making hardwood loudspeaker cabinets. The AWKT sports 53mm drivers configured in a Permendur magnetic circuit on a titanium flange with 6N-OFC voice coils to deliver a frequency response of 5Hz-45kHz. The AWAS has DLC (Diamond Like Coated) 53mm drivers in a pure iron yoke to provide 5Hz-42kHz response. Both models have A-T’s D.A.D.S. (Double Air Damping System), claimed to provide enhanced bass accuracy, as well as detachable cables with a choice of standard or 4-pin XLRM balanced connectors. The new ATH-WP900 headphones were also on display ($650), featuring flamed maple housings and the same DLC drivers as the above models. The WP900 delivers 5Hz-50kHz response. A-T headphones like the ATH-M50x are used in many recording studios along with Austrian and German stalwarts AKG, Sennheiser, and Beyerdynamic, for their accurate reproduction. The AWKT and AWAS both exhibited aspects of the ATH-M50x but with a more luxurious feel and a “bigger” sound. A characteristic of some Japanese audio gear is a greater articulation in the highs and upper mids, bordering on icy crispness and lacking warmth and depth. The AWKT and AWAS do not share those traits. For almost a century, Germany’s Beyerdynamic has been designing and manufacturing top notch microphones and headphones. Their DT Series headphones are a favorite among video game enthusiasts, especially for their sense of surround-sound three dimensionality when playing virtual reality combat games. Of course, Beyer’s long history of supplying the audiophile market is well documented, but the company has stepped up its latest wireless offerings with their Amiron ($599) and Lagoon ANC ($299) Bluetooth headphones. Their Bluetooth Aventho model ($299) is still popular and, the noise cancellation capabilities of the Lagoon and Aventho make them ideal for shutting out distractions on long plane or train trips. In addition to adjustable noise cancellation, the Lagoon folds up compactly, provides alerts for battery, high sound pressure levels, Bluetooth and other functions, and has a 10-meter Bluetooth distance range. The Amiron were bulkier, but noticeably superior in terms of both the quality of the Bluetooth connection as well as their richer sound quality. While also wireless, the Amiron lacks the lightweight travel ease of the Lagoon, but the tradeoff in better fidelity makes it a worthwhile choice for the listener who wants to be able to roam around the room without an umbilical cord to their headphone amplifier or other signal source. In designing headphones, the experimenting with new materials in the quest for improved performance can result in an exorbitant amount of R&D (research and development) expense. That hasn’t deterred Fostex, long known for its DIY analog and digital recording equipment. The company premiered its TH-900mk2 ($1,599), which comes with proprietary “Biodyna”-equipped 50mm drivers in a 1.5 tesla flux density Neodymium magnetic circuit, housed in a Urushi-lacquered Japanese cherry birch housing. Made from biocellulose fiber, Biodyna diaphragm specs are claimed to measure double the propagation velocity and offer 500% greater rigidity compared to conventional plastic-film-based drivers – all contributing to improved sound. The Fostex TR50RPmk3 ($159.99) is a perennial favorite for small private recording studios and was available for comparison at the booth. The TH-900mk2 exhibited surprisingly few fundamental audio differences compared to the TR50RPmk3, although it delivered a greater spaciousness in its sound. Whether Fostex fans would love it enough to replace their TR50 standbys will be up to the individual, but Fostex is still pushing the envelope in its R&D, so where Biodyna engineering goes in the future is anybody’s guess. John Meyer of Meyer Sound has experimented with a slew of different driver materials and still uses treated paper, which is essentially a cellulose product. Can Biodyna be next? In Part Two I’ll cover tube amp retro chic, the Dragon in the Room and more.

All the albums I’m reviewing this time express in some way qualities of introspection, melancholy, despair, and disillusionment; there’s no intended theme here, it just worked out this way! It can’t be happy, happy, joy, joy all the time, but I’ll work a bit harder at getting things back on a more even keel next issue. Enjoy. Beach Bunny - Honeymoon The brainchild of Chicagoan Lily Trifilio, Beach Bunny is an indie garage-pop band that’s released four EPs over the last four years. The last of those, Prom Queen, was released in 2018; the title track has gotten the band more than 40 million streams on Spotify. “Prom Queen” (the song) dealt with negative-body issues, and has gained a huge boost in popularity from the currently red hot video app TikTok, where it can apparently be heard virtually non-stop. That exposure got them a record deal with New York indie label Mom+Pop Records and Honeymoon—Beach Bunny’s first full-length album—has these guys poised for the big time. Whereas their EPs tended to be mostly lo-fi, acoustic bedroom-pop type productions; the band has been touring for a couple of years now, and the sound has definitely gelled and gotten bigger and bolder—and much more ready for prime time. Lily Trifilio writes songs that are tuneful and energetic, and very confessional in nature; and they’re absolutely brimming with infectious pop hooks! A graduate of DePaul University in Chicago, she was even called upon recently by her alma mater to teach a master class in songwriting. I’d say the style the band has adopted now is more along the lines of “power fuzz-pop” and possibly even closer to “fuzz-pop/post-punk.” In the song “Rearview,” she asks a former lover, “Was I ever good enough for you...you always seem closer in the rearview.” The song lopes along with strumming guitar and organ accompaniment for two-and-quarter minutes, then drummer John Alvarado blasts into the tune and the band absolutely cranks for the last thirty seconds. The effect is truly stunning! Of course YMMV, but I find it exciting that groups like this can transition from internet splash to actual, touring, working band, while making music that is both interesting and fun to listen to. Hey, there’s nothing here that’s ultimately heavy or compellingly classic—and most of the songs clock in at about two minutes, tops. But it beats the hell out of whatever crap Taylor Swift is cranking over the pop airwaves these days. Recommended. Mom + Pop Records, CD/LP (download/streaming from Bandcamp, Amazon, Tidal, Qobuz, Google Play Music, Apple Music, iTunes, Spotify) Anoushka Shankar - Love Letters I probably first heard the sitar played by George Harrison on a Beatles record, but at the time, it didn’t really register that it was an exotic Indian instrument I was hearing. I really didn’t make the sitar connection until George Harrison released his epic Concert for Bangladesh live album, where the Ravi Shankar played “Bangla Dhun” was the opener. And it was literally, criminally ignored by nearly everyone who ever bought the record! I don’t know why, but Shankar’s playing truly resonated with me; I virtually couldn’t play any of the record’s sides without first listening to the “Bangla Dhun.” I bought Anoushka Shankar’s (Ravi Shankar’s daughter) debut album at Tower Records in 1998 when it was first released, and have revisited it regularly over the years. It’s more in the classical Indian music vein, a direction that Anoushka has strayed from over the last decade or so, moving more into the world music arena. And combining elements of pop, trance, and fusion, among her many influences that meld surprisingly well with her heavy Indian classical background. Five years later, in 2003, Norah Jones literally swept the Grammy Awards with her debut album, and suddenly, it became known that she and Anoushka Shankar were sisters. I don’t know with certainty what influence this had on Anoushka Shankar’s career, but it seemed to definitely veer from that point towards more popular music. This new EP comes in the wake of two life-changing events for her; a serious health crisis, requiring numerous surgeries and where she quite nearly died. And the dissolution of her seven-year marriage to British film director Joe Wright (Darkest Hour, Atonement, Pride & Prejudice); obviously, she has struggled with the aftermath of both mightily. And this new album is her way of announcing to the world that she’s ready to move on. The six songs deal mostly with love and loss; I get the feeling from listening to the songs that she’s moved on from her health issues, but is still attempting to process and externalize what the breakup of her marriage has put her through, and how she’s continuing to deal with it. I don’t know any of the details, but you get the idea from some of the song lyrics that her ex ditched her for a younger woman. In the song “Bright Eyes,” Anoushka asks, “Does she feel younger than me, new and shiny” and “most importantly, do you call her Bright Eyes too?” She grapples with issues of self-doubt, like in the song “Lovable,” where she asks, “Am I still lovable, since you stopped loving me?” The record is very sparsely arranged, with most of the songs only containing Anoushka’s sitar, along with an acoustic bass and a variety of Indian percussive instruments. A few songs add piano to the mix, and all of the songs contain vocals from the likes of German singer Alev Lenz, the Afro-French Cuban duo Ibeyi, and Indian singer Shilpa Rao. All of the songs except for “These Words” are sung in English. I’m gonna be perfectly honest with you—this is an absolute downer of a listening experience. But the songs are absolutely beautiful, and Anoushka’s instrument tone is simply gorgeous—this is an extremely well-recorded EP. I did all my listening to the MQA files on Tidal, and I felt the sound was remarkable. Well worth a listen if you have a chance! Mercury/Universal France, (download/streaming from Amazon, Tidal, Qobuz, Google Play Music, Spotify, Deezer, YouTube) Ben Watt - Storm Damage Most everyone knows Benn Watt as one-half of the EDM/Dance/Trance/Jazz/Bossa/Electronica powerhouse Everything But the Girl, with wife, partner, and powerhouse vocalist Tracey Thorn. And he’s also a talented multi-instrumentalist, producer, and DJ, who’s worked with just about everyone who really matters in the music industry. Everything But the Girl enjoyed tremendous success through the late eighties and into the nineties with an acoustic jazz/bossa/dance slant, but then Watt became gravely ill with an extremely rare autoimmune disease and quite nearly died. His eventually return to music found him getting very deeply steeped in techno, deep house, and club music, and EBTG’s return reaped even greater commercial successes than ever before. The group went on hiatus in 2000, but Watt hasn’t slowed down at all; he’s continued to produce and record with acts as diverse as Beth Orton, Massive Attack, and David Gilmour. This new album shows a return to his singer/songwriter roots from very early on in his career, and chronicles his process of coping with the recent death of his closest half-brother in 2016. The aftermath found him grieving, angry, and disillusioned over the disintegrating political landscape in England; it basically muted his creative voice for over a year. His return is marked by this new album, Storm Damage, which he refers to as a “future-retro trio”; it basically features a foundation of piano, upright bass, and hybrid acoustic-electronic drums on all the songs. And of course, the songs are augmented by guitars (Low’s Alan Sparhawk guests on several songs), synths, and samples that Watt calls “impressionistic found sounds” that he adapted from online public-domain recording archives. Despite the embellishments, this remains a sparsely instrumented album, and is a return to the more organic roots of his early career. Much of the focus of the record is on Watt’s vocals and the confessional nature of most of the songs. The press notes for the release state Watt’s desire for “a new way to capture the energy,” and he’s most definitely done that with this new album. “Summer Ghosts” opens with the lines, “Thought I had a degree of resistance, but look at me seeking assistance.” Watt makes no bones about the fact that he’s struggling with all the complications of his current environment. It follows the basic piano/bass/drums formula of most of the album, but the added analogue synths float over the acoustic foundation, and give the song a very ethereal and atmospheric vibe. In the song “You’ve Changed, I’ve Changed,” he states, “You’ve changed, I’ve changed, we can’t all remain the same. Shed the skin, it’s no big thing.” Time to move on, get over it. It’s a record of very deep introspection. The recorded sound is superb, and features many of the atmospheric qualities that he brought to all the EBTG recordings; the streamed MQA sound from Tidal sounded simply incredible over my home system. It’s available from a variety of streaming services, and is well worth checking out—while it’s nothing like most of his techno and deep house output, it’s nonetheless a compelling listen. Highly recommended. Ultimate Road/Caroline, CD/LP (download/streaming from Amazon, Qobuz, Tidal, Google Play Music, Spotify, Deezer) Carla Bley/Steve Swallow/Andy Sheppard - Life Goes On Carla Bley has essentially been an active recording artist for sixty years. That’s right—sixty years! Born in 1938 in Oakland, California; her father was a piano teacher and church choirmaster, who taught her at a very young age to play the piano. However, he died when she was only eight years old, and by fourteen, she had decided that being a professional roller skater was her calling. She headed to New York City at seventeen, and took a job as a cigarette girl at legendary jazz club Birdland, where she immediately drew the attention of pianist Paul Bley. Who encouraged her piano playing, and also encouraged her to start composing—within a few years, they were married, and a number of other jazz artists were recording her compositions. Carla Bley, at age 81, is one of the most prolific jazz composers of all time. I can’t even count the number of studio albums she has to her credit; double that number, and you get the number of albums she’s either collaborated or guested on. Her new album, Life Goes On, features longtime partner and collaborator, bassist Steve Swallow, along with tenor and soprano sax player Andy Sheppard. The trio have been playing together for over twenty-five years; this new record is their fourth album together. To hear the intricate and incredibly nuanced playing on this album, you’d never guess the ages of the players; Steve Swallow is 79, and Andy Sheppard is the youngster of the group at 63! Life Goes On is a trio of relatively lengthy suites; the music was composed as Carla Bley recovered from an illness. The trio toured with the new music for a while, then retired to the studio where they’ve perfected these pieces. The title piece is a long (clocking in at nearly 24 minutes!), contemplative work of four parts, titled, “Life Goes On,” then “On,” then “And On,” closing with “And Then One Day.” Carla Bley’s piano playing is simply magnificent here, and even though the arrangements are very spare—there’s plenty of room for each of the players to comfortably stretch out. Steve Swallow’s playing alternates constantly between plumbing the depths and plucking at the higher registers of his instrument; he’s definitely one of the most interesting bass players of all time. And British saxophonist Andy Sheppard is one of the finest horn players of this generation; he’s on tenor here, but alternates between tenor and soprano throughout the albums three suites. His tone is quite simply sumptuous and superb here; his runs and fills are deliberate and measured, and he never hurries through his solos—it fits the mood of the piece perfectly. Even at nearly 24 minutes in length, this piece passes waaaay too quickly! While much of the album is quite subdued and melancholy, this is my favorite jazz recording of 2020 thus far. I did all my listening to the 24/96 stream from Qobuz via Roon—the sound quality was absolutely magnificent streaming across my home system. This record is not to be missed—it comes very highly recommended! ECM, CD/LP (download/streaming from Amazon, Qobuz, Tidal, Google Play Music, Deezer)

We can never be this cool. From Audio, September 1966.

One wipe preserves high-fidelity! Author's collection.

Wonder if Brian Wilson owned one? From Audio, October 1958.

I’m pretty sure I discovered Ludwig van Beethoven’s Sixth Symphony as a sixth grader. There it was, an LP in a hardware-store rack in my little town, and I bought it. Nice cover: an oil painting of a rural landscape, storm clouds gathering overhead as two men, one on horseback, make their way along a rustic carriage path. The record inside? Mercury MG 50045, Living Presence High Fidelity, Olympian Series. Among the “Hi-Fi Facts” included on its back cover was this: Save for the element of enormous dynamic range, the most obviously spectacular portions of the Pastoral Symphony—the last three sections—present the fewest problems for recording. The real test for Mercury’s Living Presence recording technique exist in the first two movements, where the musical texture is exceedingly rich, complex, yet scored for strings, woodwinds and French horns only. The uncredited writer of those words was probably Wilma Cozart, who by 1954—when MG 50045 was recorded—was a vice-president at Mercury and in full charge of its tiny classical division. She added that a single Telefunken microphone was hung approximately 15 feet above and slightly behind the conductor’s podium and maintained in constant position throughout the recording sessions. . . .The success with which this recording captures the musical dialogue . . . of the Scene by the Brook reflects the essential nature of Living Presence recording more truly than many a more spectacular sonic tour-de-force. Speaking of tours de force, the beginning of the symphony isn’t one. As a sixth-grader, I was taken aback by its bouncy, slightly prosaic tone: (That, not incidentally, is Marek Janowski conducting the WDR Symphony Orchestra Cologne in a very fine new Pentatone recording. Doesn't sound prosaic in their hands, does it?) There’s a momentary pause after the first phrase; perhaps that makes it an introduction. Then the music ambles on, not exactly reminiscent of those thunderbolts that launch the Third or Fifth Symphonies. Reminds me more of the no-nonsense way Gershwin starts An American in Paris (Fiedler, Boston Pops): In both cases, our hero has only just arrived. (Of course there’s a hero! Or at least, in Beethoven’s version of the countryside, an imagined protagonist.) LvB subtitled this movement “Awakening of Cheerful Feelings upon Arriving in the Country,” another way of telling us the music is “more an expression of feeling than of painting.” It's not an old-fashioned Baroque descriptive work like Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. A century later, having written American in Paris, Gershwin asked his friend Deems Taylor to devise a storyline for it, so Taylor came up with this: “Imagine an American swinging down the Champs Élysées on a mild, sunny morning. . . .” Our American is awakening to his cheerful feelings in the City of Light. The first movement of Beethoven’s “Pastoral” maintains a sunny mood throughout its modest length, avoiding minor chords and developmental drama. One critic praised its “sublime monotony.” I wouldn’t go that far myself, not with the example of Vaughan Williams so close at hand: no part of Beethoven’s Sixth is “just a little too much like a cow looking over a gate," as various people may have said variously about RVW. The bucolic bliss of Beethoven’s second movement, a “Scene by the Brook,” proves my point. It’s marked Andante molto mosso. Sometimes performers overdo the molto mosso part: That was Janowski and the WDR SO again. Let’s compare their "Scene" with that in another new release, this from the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin (Harmonia Mundi): A bit more bucolic, right? It's not simply a matter of tempo, but of phrasing, shading, accent. At the end of the movement, Beethoven provides cadenzas for various twittering creatures, which the Akademie’s players handle with aplomb: In the scherzo, the locals hold a barn dance. But a storm is brewing, and when it breaks out, piccolos, trombones, and timpani join the fray, while birds, beasts and humans run for cover. Once the clouds clear, Beethoven provides a lovely, grateful “Shepherd’s Song” in conclusion. I like both these recordings. Your choice may come down to couplings and sound quality: Janowski’s multichannel SACD offers an explosive Fifth and spacious, warmly resonant acoustics, while the Akademie offers more intimate sound and a genuine historical curiosity, Le Portrait musical de la Nature by Justin Heinrich Knecht (1752–1817). Knecht was a respected Rhenish composer whose Portrait was advertised in 1783 on the same page of Cramer’s Music Magazine as three piano sonatas (WoO47) by the 12-year-old Beethoven. Knecht’s five-movement sinfonia caratteristica offers scenes virtually identical to those in Beethoven’s “Pastoral” Symphony. (This doesn’t mean little Ludwig stole the program from his elder; it does mean that human fascination with Nature has a long history.) Here’s a bit of Knecht’s “storm”: Want to hear more of this kind of thing? Check out Jordi Savall’s Les Éléments: Tempêtes, Orages, & Fêtes Marines, which offers music by Locke, Marais, Rameau, Rebel, Telemann, and Vivaldi—no, not the Seasons!—in vivid performances on period instruments. And now on to the Plus One part, where we check out some modern music that echoes or revises Beethoven. Lots to choose from, so we’ll mainly consider landscapes focused on flowing water: The Housatonic at Stockbridge, Night Ferry, and Oceans. Charles Ives (1874–1954) led a remarkable life: as a New York City insurance man, he pioneered the concept of estate planning; as a musician his experiments drew praise from other rugged individualists like Gustav Mahler and Nicolas Slonimsky. Much of his orchestral output includes references to the natural world, but nearly all of it opens out onto broader social or philosophical questions. In Central Park in the Dark, for instance, ragtime music bleeds into the nocturnal quietude, suggesting a human restlessness quite at odds with any vision of the park as urban oasis. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34AqNvhBfVQ Ives's The Housatonic at Stockbridge may have been inspired by Robert Underwood Johnson’s pastoral poetry. But the composer was more affected by memories of a hiking trip taken with his wife Harmony after their honeymoon: We walked in the meadows along the river and heard the distant singing from the church across the river. The mist had not entirely left the riverbed, and the colors, the running water, the banks and elm trees were something that one would always remember. A tumultuous closing passage suggests that the primal peace of the river’s deep waters will not remain undisturbed forever. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4grS6KPGPA4 (Ives recommendation: three volumes from Sir Andrew Davis, Melbourne SO.) Anna Clyne also drew upon poetry—Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner among others—and earlier musical “storm scenes” to compose Night Ferry for the Chicago Symphony in 2012. In this short video she explains how she created a visual roadmap of the work as part of her creative process. And here’s the whole piece, available as a high-res download from the CSO: httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdVf3ni6sXE&t=7s María Huld Markan Sigfúsdóttir’s orchestral poem Oceans, from the Iceland Symphony Orchestra’s Concurrence (Sono Luminus DSL-92237), offers a very different seascape. It’s vast, primal, and colorful, a strikingly cinematic demonstration of her skill. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o10C7UCY3NQ But that’s just one track on Concurrence, which is loaded with powerful new music. In Metacosmos, Anna Thorvaldsdóttir again shows her willingness to take greater risks than her peers. She's truly the Bard of the Glaciers, so I never expected to hear anything from her like this music's emotionally rewarding final section. httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lTG4BVM8Pps Haukur Tómasson’s Piano Concerto No. 2 features Vikingur Ólafsson, just one of the twittering creatures you’ll hear in it. (The opening measures actually pay tribute to to tvísöngur, the ancient Icelandic tradition of twin song.) httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdTGxpBT_hI The album rounds off with Páll Ragnar Pálsson’s Quake. Whereas in Tómasson’s Concerto, the soloist is first among equals, here the solo cello may evoke a Beethovenian imaginary protagonist, “responding with panic and adroitness the rumbling, mysterious tumult all around.” A word about the engineering of this remarkable album: Producer Dan Merceruio and chief engineer Daniel Shores have created yet another blue-ribbon demo disc for immersive sound. It’s mastered in DXD at 24b/352.8kHz and Native 7.1.4 for playback in Auro-3D or Dolby Atmos. At the very least, you need to hear it in basic multichannel in order to get the intended impact. This is not a gimmick. It’s an essential component of the music. I have no idea whether immersive sound will grow and prosper anew, thanks to Blu-ray and Atmos. But I know what I like, and I will continue to trust my ears. (Look for a TMT column soon about “immersive,” past and present.)

Recording session for Concurrence. Photo by Jökull Torfason.