In his review of the J.Sikora Initial turntable, Stereophile's resident artist/sage Herb Reichert wrote, "Extended bathing, lighting candles, making tea, and preparing food are ritual work forms that prepare my senses to accept both pleasure and illumination."

When it comes to playing records, I too have a ritual. It involves carefully cleaning the vinyl, first on a Pro-Ject VC-33, followed by immersion in a HumminGuru Ultrasonic vinyl cleaner. Before and after, I inspect the record's grooves with a pricey VisibleDust Quasar R magnifier. Only then—black coffee hot, glasses cleaned, stylus brushed free of contaminants, notepad at hand—am I ready to receive the messages ingrained in a shiny black vinyl disc.

Advance Paris, the French hi-fi manufacturer, has announced the release of LINK, a new series of cables designed for high-fidelity audio setups.

Bryston CEO James Tanner is not only an Audiofest regular but an affable, down-to-earth guy who refuses to use either high-end cabling or hi-rez files at his show demos. Why? Because he doesn’t want visitors to think that the sound from his system is shaped by anything other than Bryston gear. That doesn’t mean he denies that better-designed cables or hi-rez files through his streamer will elevate sound quality—only that, when you hear his system at a show, you know exactly what Bryston gear sounds like. I found that an interesting viewpoint.

In my March Spin Doctor column, I gave an overview of my experiences cleaning records over the last 50-plus years and the advances in record cleaning technology over that time. My review of the HumminGuru NOVA ultrasonic record cleaner focused on that increasingly popular approach to record cleaning, using ultrasonic cavitation instead of scrubbing the record with a brush. But if there's one thing I've learned in that half-century of playing around with audio gear, it's that it can be a mistake to embrace a new technology just because of its newness, dismissing what came before as obsolete. The vinyl record itself is a good example of a technology discarded as obsolete, then embraced again by new (and old) generations. You can add vacuum-tube amplifiers, analog tape, and much else in our hobby to that list.

"Paul Klipsch was a genius," Roy Delgado told me recently, with the sound of genuine amazement in his voice. "Me, I'm just a tinkerer." I've spoken to Delgado, Klipsch's chief audio engineer, a handful of times over the past few years and find him affable, plainspoken, and almost absurdly humble. His LinkedIn page describes him simply as "engineer at Klipsch." His bio on the Klipsch Museum website lists his interests as "a closer relationship with God [and] the pursuit of the ever-elusive largemouth bass." To be sure, Delgado holds several patents, has an intimidating grasp of loudspeaker design, and is anything but a tinkerer. But it was still weird to see him—dressed in the T-shirt, light jeans, and work boots of an Arkansas fishing enthusiast—at the Nine Orchard Hotel during last year's New York Fashion Week.

We were there for the launch of a loudspeaker, a collaboration between the Little Rock–based Klipsch Group and Ojas, the nom de solder of artist and designer Devon Turnbull.