LATEST ADDITIONS

The Dilemma of Exotica

A persistent complaint from some of our readers concerns our seeming preoccupation with exotic components. (Presumably what they mean are scarce, unusual, or hard-to-find components, because "exotic" really means "from a foreign country," and there is sure as hell nothing hard-to-find about a Panasonic receiver.) "Why," you ask, "do you devote so much space to reports on components we can't buy from our local audio discounter? Why can't we have more reports about products from the old, established, reliable companies like KLH, Harman/Kardon, Electro-Voice and Sansui, whose stuff we can listen to at a local dealer before we commit our hard-earned dollars to a purchase?" One subscriber even cancelled his subscription because of this, claiming that the unavailability of the products we review makes our reports "irrelevant." Well, he had a point, but not a very good one.

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A Learning Tool, A Listening Tool, A Protractor

A gift from Uncle JA: The DB Systems DBP-10 protractor. This thing has been around since the dawn of time. When Jesus needed a protractor to properly align the Denon DL-103 moving-coil cartridge on his heavily modified Technics SL-1200 turntable, he called up David Hadaway at DB Systems. “Thou shall never sell this kick-ass protractor for more than $49, David,” said Jesus. David, of course, allowed Jesus to keep his sample on “a long-term loan.”

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The Glamorous Side

Here we are in Art Dudley’s listening room, preparing to load the Wilson Audio Sasha into the back of John Atkinson’s Land Cruiser. After removing the Sasha’s WATT head unit from its large Puppy woofer cabinet, we carefully tipped the Puppy onto its side, removed the spikes from its bottom plate, installed the dedicated casters in place of those spikes, hoisted the Puppy back into an upright position, and dressed it up in protective Saran-Wrap.

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SSI: Final Words from Art Dudley

For a journalist at a trade show, few things are more awkward than entering a room and finding that the exhibitor and his staff are the only people there: No dealers. No customers. Just a few desperate souls ready to pin their last half-hope on a man with a badge&#151;and the badge says <I>Press</I>.

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