No hyperbole, no exaggeration: This morning, a pair of Danish speakers made me cry. Not mainly because of the hole they'd be burning in my meager finances if I actually shelled out the $100,000 needed to own them, but because of the emotions they evoked . . . without even seeming to break a sweat.

What's extra crazy is that the song that made my eyes well up wasn't some audiophile chestnut.

At 32, David Strunk is one of the younger designers and entrepreneurs at the Florida show—and yet he's somewhat of a veteran. Strunk started seriously tinkering with electronics and audio when he was still in britches. Four years ago, he and his father, Tim, started Endow Audio with a hugely ambitious goal: redefining high-end speakers' capacity for sounding just like live music.

Mind if I slap some quick virtual labels on Gershman Acoustics' $17,000 pair of Grande Avant Garde speakers? From my notes: "Very big-sounding for small floorstanders." "Their brawn belies their size." "Elegant overachievers."

They're all that...

If you're pressed for time at a busy audio show, it can be a mistake to walk into a room just to say hi to an industry contact. Should the music speak to you, and the sound is dead-on, you may succumb to the temptation to sit down for a longer-than-expected listen. That's what occurred this morning. You know what? I regret nothing.

Mexican electronics company Margules and Denmark's Raidho speakers, both brands represented by distributor Bruce Ball's AV Luxury Goods, have a rare synergy.

It's a personal thing, perhaps a shortcoming: I don't care for harps, having never heard a piece of harp music I found appealing. Truthfully, that didn't suddenly change when I heard French Canadian harpist Isabeau Corriveau perform in the Embassy Suites room outfitted with hi-fi gear from On a Higher Note, distributor Philip O'Hanlon's company. (O’Hanlon can be seen on the right in the photo.) But Corriveau is a fetching presence and a helluva musician, and it was impressive to listen to her play along to A Leap of Faith, a vinyl disc of her own music. With eyes closed, I had a hard time reliably delineating the sonic boundary between live instrument and recorded music.

Remarkably, much of the Embassy Suites' 10th floor was taken up by relative newcomer Fidelity Imports, an import and distribution company started four years ago by industry veteran Steve Jain, who'd held management positions at Klipsch and Pioneer. Jain, 46, likes to move fast. After first signing three British companies in short order—Cyrus Audio (amplification), Q Acoustics (speakers), and QED Cable (duh)—he looked to other parts of the globe for further expansion. These days, his stable includes 17 brands, including Slovakia's Neo (high-end audio racks), Italy's Audia Flight (amps, preamps, CD players), and Japan's Soulnote (amplifiers and other stereo components).

What does the MC in MC Audiotech stand for? Marvelously Cutting-Edge? Master 'Coustician? I would've guessed Mark Conti; Conti is, after all, the founder of the Pennsylvania-based boutique brand. But the man himself told me—tongue in cheek, I reckon—that MC is actually short for Musica cordis, a Latin phrase that means "Music from the heart." Works for me, especially after I heard his latest loudspeaker, a blond beauty called the TL-12.

If admiring a pair of Acora Acoustics speakers up-close inspires a sudden desire to cut some broccoli or wash the dishes, it's probably because they're handcrafted from naturally flecked granite, similar to some bespoke countertops. But there's nothing wishy-washy—or cold—about the sound of the Acoras I briefly auditioned at the Florida show. Beguiling and authoritative is more like it. In Tampa, Acora paired its brand new VRC speakers with VAC Statement 452 monoblocks ($150,000/pair), an Aurender digital front end consisting of an N30SA streamer ($25,000) and an MC20 clock ($30,000), and a $50,000 LampizatOr Horizon DAC.

If you live in Maine, and it's wintertime, and a kind magazine editor calls offering a getaway to the Florida International Audio Expo, what do you say? In my case, it was Yes please. And so, yesterday, I arrived at the Embassy Suites Westshore in sunny Tampa, suddenly without the need for scarves and double-insulated boots, but with my usual hankering for a serious hi-fi fix. I'll be getting a three-day series of them, in fact. Lucky me.