LATEST ADDITIONS

If an audiophile visiting an audio show in 1991 were to have been transported two decades into the future, at first he would not be aware of any difference: A two-channel system would be playing in a hotel room. But on closer inspection, he would notice that the CD player, the ubiquitous source 20 years ago, would be conspicuous by its absence. Yes, there might be a turntable—"Good to see that people are playing LPs in the future," he would think—but why is there a PC in the room?

Sunday, January 15, 5–9pm and Monday, January 16, 6–9pm: As a way to recuperate from the madness of the Consumer Electronics Show and with a hat tip to Devore Fidelity's popular Monkeyhaus listening parties, Pitch Perfect Audio (300 Brannan Street, Suite 209, San Francisco) will host their first “Greenhaus” events.

Clearly, my boss, Stereophile’s esteemed editor, John Atkinson, lost another bet.

Here we see him singing, furiously, at the Los Angeles and Orange County Audio Society’s 18th Annual Society Gala and Awards Banquet, held last weekend in the Grand Ballroom of the Buena Park Holiday Inn. He really hits his stride at about 40 seconds in. (Thanks to "The Audio Otaku" for capturing the magic.)

The big difference between car audio and home audio, explains WIRC Media's Micah Sheveloff, is car audio’s need to overcome ambient noise. In fact, to a large extent, it’s this simple requirement which dictates a system’s overall design. In the case of the Caprice, the system had to have enough power to overcome the car’s custom-built 2.25-inch stainless dual exhaust.

By this point in our conversation, Micah has already apologized for the noise a number of times.

“Let’s listen to the system for a bit and I’ll see if we can find some good roads,” Micah suggests. “Ready?”

Ahmed Gallab is perhaps best known for his work in Caribou, Of Montreal, and, most recently, Yeasayer, all bands which combine electronic elements with more organic sounds to get listeners thinking and moving on the dance floor. But Gallab is also keeping busy with his own project, Sinkane.

A Spotify advertisement interrupts my listening. The ad is invisible, embedded in between the lines of my play queue. As it begins, a modern crooner soars over a twinkling piano. This is not the 311 I was just listening to. A voice very politely interrupts: “Hi, this is Bruno Mars.”

I need my riffage! Not ads!

Seconds later, a reminder pops up in my Microsoft Outlook program: “Rdio”

What makes one particular hi-fi component stand apart from all others in its class? In this issue's "The Entry Level," I state that an outstanding hi-fi component will fuel the listener's desire to explore new music. If a component does not achieve that fundamental goal, it has failed altogether and should be passionately heaved from the nearest listening-room window to hit the unforgiving asphalt with a definitive, satisfying boom (or traded on one of the online auction sites). But that rule is most pertinent when the discovery of new music is the listener's only goal. Most of us want our hi-fi components to also be attractive, well-built, versatile, and user-friendly; we want them to represent good value for our hard-earned money; and we would appreciate it if they stuck around for a while, rather than have to be too soon replaced by something new and "better."