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D'Agostino President Bill McKiegan asked if I might be interested in writing the first US review of the top-line, three-piece, fully balanced D'Agostino Relentless preamplifier ($149,500, plus $19,500 for the optional digital streaming module), which since its 2021 introduction had only received a single review, in Europe.

Me, review a $150,000 preamp? This was not a kid in a candy store–scale event. This was a kid let loose in a big-assed candy factory–scale event.

My glucose levels spiked. Questions whirled. What new virtues might a cost-no-object, presumably state-of-the-art preamplifier bring to my reference system? Would images be more corporeal? Would the soundstage be wider and deeper, tonal colors more intense? Would bass—already fabulous—be even more solid? Would the Relentless preamp move me closer to a premium-seat-in-a-live-concert experience?

Modern turntables are a paradox. The ever-evolving technology beneath their sleek exteriors fascinates me. The high-end turntable market these days can feel less like a haven for music lovers and more like a brutalist arms race in pursuit of maximum audio extraction.

Yet, it's not all about performance. Many new 'tables are adorned with outlandish, purely cosmetic flourishes that cause me to chuckle. Some super-bling record players, with their jutting angles and industrial menace, evoke the chrome carcass of the Battlestar Galactica, a testament to mechanical might. Others are even more menacing, channeling the mirror-finish abyss of Darth Vader's helmet, gleaming with a promise of sonic domination—but is that an invitation or a threat?

Setting aside those cosmetic affectations, it's a war, and the enemy—well, the main enemy anyway—is vibrations, which may seem strange considering that vibrations are the whole point of the endeavor.

EISA, or the Expert Imaging and Sound Association, is an organisation representing 56 of the most respected special interest publications and websites from 27 countries that cover Hi-Fi, Home Theater Video, Home Theater Audio, Photography, Mobile Devices, and In-Car Electronics. Every year EISA's Expert Group members, including editors from this publication, test a very wide range of new products from their field of expertise before comparing results and voting to decide on the cream of every product category.

Yesterday, I had a brief conversation, by text message, with my 26-year-old son. He had just walked by the Devialet shop at the Shoppes at Columbus Circle here in Manhattan. Knowing my interest in such things, he sent me a photo. The Devialet boutique seems more a design exhibit than a shop, in a high-ceilinged open area.

The shops at the Shoppes at Columbus Circle include Hugo Boss, Eileen Fisher, and Floga, which sells furs, among less-exclusive brands, though even the less-exclusive stores look fancy. Upstairs from the Shoppes is the Mandarin Oriental New York Hotel, where rooms cost about $1k/night and up, and some notable restaurants, among them Thomas Keller's Per Se, and Masa, a three-star Michelin restaurant where dinner costs as much as a room at the Mandarin Oriental, per person.

Devialet is the only trace of the hi-fi industry not only in that mall but in that part of town. Innovative Audio, which carries Wilson, Focal, and D'Agostino, among other brands, is about a mile east, a 25-minute walk.

Sonny Rollins: Freedom Weaver; Isaiah Collier & The Chosen Few: The Almighty; Arild Andersen/Daniel Sommer/Rob Luft: As Time Passes.

Various Artists: Jem Records Celebrates Jagger & Richards; Kerry King: From Hell I Rise; Liam Gallagher and John Squire: Liam Gallagher and John Squire; Bob Schneider: The Human Torch; Marcus King: Mood Swings.

Stereo is the most successful audio gimmick of all time. While dashboard record players, quadraphonic LPs, and MQA have gone the way of Ron Popeil's hair-in-a-spray-can infomercials, stereo remains king. And I am guilty of loving it.

That old expression "men love with their eyes" applies to listening, too. Enabled by the advent of a second channel, the fanning out of musicians across a soundstage fills the room and gives the eyes—and not only the ears—something to do. And I happen to enjoy the soundstage. It may be an utterly artificial delight, but who doesn't love hearing a tambourine coming from 10' to the left of the left speaker? So when I came across an article in which someone likened mono to listening to music through a hole in a wall, the metaphor made sense. Why would anyone want their music congealed in a blob directly in front of them when they could hear it separated out in space?

As always, though, it turns out that things aren't quite so simple...