LATEST ADDITIONS

Fortunately, in a world of darkness, there is still light. And by light, I mean: hi-fi.

To paraphrase a classic early English song by Thomas Arne, “Where the big boys go, there go I.” Thus to the Marriott’s lobby and mezzanine, where many of the biggest systems found spaces congenial to their size, didst I head.

Since I am accustomed to hearing VTL electronics paired with either Wilson or Rockport loudspeakers, I was eager to hear how the Siegfried II monoblocks would mate with the Vandersteens…

At 8:30am on Friday, my 2017 RMAF began on a solemn note: a moment of silence for Focal's Gérard Chrétien, who passed on October 1st. Along with Jacques Mahul, Monsieur Chrétien was an important member of the Focal team since 1990.

If the last thing you need is one more serious dive into the depths of the human psyche, you will find happiness in Handel Goes Wild: Improvisations on George Frideric Handel. A delight from start to finish, this latest Warner release from theorbist Christina Pluhar and her crack early music ensemble, L'Arpeggiata, lives up to its director's reputation for refreshing baroque repertoire with new, out-of-the-box ideas.

A place in the country: everyone's ideal.—Bryan Ferry, "Mother of Pearl"

Even at full strength, my family didn't need 3000-plus square feet of living space, let alone four acres of outdoor frolicking space, much of it wooded. But in 2003 that's precisely what we bought, partly because our deal fell through on another, very different house, partly because living next to a dairy farm was an appealing novelty, and partly because the hill on which the house is poised seemed defensible. On our very first morning in our new home—a Saturday in early June—we awoke to gunfire and puffs of smoke coming from the field below our hill.

Seeing your album in a record store's cutout bin meant one thing. Despite the label execs' wide smiles, warm handshakes, and earnest promises to the contrary, once the record jacket had a hole punched in it, or its corner clipped, it meant your record label had lost faith and moved on.

Record collectors felt differently. The prices of cutouts were right—usually, from 99õ to a penny under two bucks. And cutouts were better than digging through crates because the records were still sealed . . . even if the jackets were a bit mangled. The beauty of cutouts was that they were so cheap, you could afford to be lavish, and go home with anything that caught your fancy.