LATEST ADDITIONS

Just when I thought my equipment reviewing schedule was locked in for many months, an unavoidable last-minute cancellation sent me scrambling for an alternative.

Jim Austin to the rescue. To his query, "How would you like to review a tube preamp from Canor, of Slovakia?" I answered with an enthusiastic "yes!"

In addition to the exciting prospect of reviewing the first tubed preamplifier to come my way in a long time, hearing the Canor Hyperion P1 preamplifier ($12,500) in my system would enable me to get a handle on the sound of gear I'd only encountered once, at High End Munich 2024. As is often the case at shows, I left without a clear sense of the preamp's contribution to the system's sound, let alone its ultimate potential.

Launched in 1967, Quad's highly original, elegantly styled 33 preamplifier and 303 power amplifier were Quad's first all–solid state designs and among the first solid state separates. The 303 may have been one of the first "vertical" amplifiers. Together with the 405 stereo amplifier, which came out in 1975, and the FM2 and FM3 tuners, these products proved to be enduring, widely feted successes from their launch until they were discontinued, the 33 in 1982, the 303 in 1985. Meanwhile, they enjoyed massive production runs, were marketed worldwide, and were much admired for their modern industrial design. It's said that Quad sold 120,000 33 preamps and 100,000 303 amplifiers. Across two versions, the 405 sold even more.

Quad introduced new versions of the 33 and 303 (each component $1599) in 2024, apparently moved to do so by the continuing hot market for originals.

There are things that make me feel so unpleasantly lightheaded that some days I worry my cranium might float away like a helium balloon. Like baby animals generated by AI that I can no longer distinguish from real ones. Skin care for tweens. Headlines about American politics that read like headlines about Turkmenistan. The music of Charli XCX.

And being middle aged. Even the term is a con. At 54, I'm not in the middle of anything, and given the way my back feels in the mornings, the thought of living to 108 fills me with terror. There are things about this stage of life that arrive imperceptibly, and not just the physical frailties. Chief among them is the way one's time on earth begins to feel unsettling and sometimes poignant in its suddenly tangible brevity. Now, when I speak to people in their early 20s, I find myself amazed by their belief that life is brimming with endless possibility and lasts nearly forever. I suppose I might envy them, but I remember being their age and wouldn't relish being that person again.

Fortunately, there's more to middle age than bewilderment at cottagecore and one's worsening nocturia.