Although TAD is a Japanese brand, there's something dry, almost German about the name, which stands for Technical Audio Devices. It's comparable, in my book, to T+A, one of Germany's leading high-end companies, whose initials mean Theorie + Anwendung—that's Theory + Application. I like this just-the-facts approach, as long as the products leave room for emotion . . . maybe even a spot of sorcery. On that score, no worries about either brand.

After a years-long absence, TAD is back on the US market, represented by Dave Malekpour of Massachusetts' PAD Hifi Distribution (PAD stands for Professional Audio Design. Were these two made for each other or what?)

One new Focal product was present at the Florida show, sitting on the floor in a corner: the Littora 200 OD Stone 8 outdoor loudspeaker ($799 each), shaped like a roughly 17" pebble. Littoras are "designed for listening in marine, coastal and wet settings," says Focal. Oddly, an indented band of indeterminate function runs around the back of the speaker's faux-stone enclosure, doing nothing to make the model 8 seem like a naturally-occurring object. Humph.

While my collection of personal audio is pretty much complete (with high-end entries from HiFiMan, Audeze, Focal, and Sennheiser), I'd consider an addition from Britain's Warwick Acoustics if I were currently in the market for further headphone bliss. Warwick's Aperio Black (above)—a $32,000 combo of a balanced electrostatic amp/energizer plus an accompanying open-back headset—is near the top of Mount Olympus.

A friend had advised me to go listen to the single-ended Auris Nirvana IV headphone amplifier ($5700), deeming it "in some ways" an improvement over Auris's beloved Headonia model. Mission accepted.

On the third and last day of the Florida Audio Expo, I realized I hadn't listened to Von Schweikert speakers in donkey's years. With only 35 minutes to spare till closing time, I made my way to the third-floor room where, according to the show literature, I should hear a pair of Von Schweikert Endeavor floorstanders ($31,000) being driven by a generous complement of multikilobuck tube components. Sure enough, the candy-apple-red speakers were there, tethered to a VAC Master Signature preamp ($44,000 with a phono stage), and from there to VAC Master 300 monoblocks ($74,000/pair). The $36,000 VPI Avenger Direct turntable was in repose when I arrived, ceding front-end honors to a $28,000 Berkeley Audio Design Alpha DAC Reference 3.

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.