Being an audio reporter definitely has its perks—like when you're in a spacious Munich room, listening to top-tier systems deliver music with astonishing scale and precision.

T.H.E. SoCal show, held once again at the Hilton Orange County in Costa Mesa, California, kicked off today (Friday, June 6). It will run through Sunday, June 8. It's the show's 3rd year at the venue.

One of the things I value most in life is clarity. In my work, in my intellectual pursuits, and in my relationships, I try to cut through the noise and find the place where I can clearly see facts, goals, feelings, the big picture. If I can find clarity, it's much easier to form opinions, make plans, and take action. Success becomes more likely.

In audio reproduction, my values are similar. I can't enjoy music if the system is producing a clouded, muddy, overly warm, or otherwise unclear sound. I want the electromechanical representation of music to be richly detailed, sharply focused, and full range in dynamics and frequency. In that kind of all-encompassing and attention-demanding aesthetic, I can truly hear what the music is about. Under those conditions, the nature of the recording—good or bad, craft or crud—is plainly heard.

They say that with age comes wisdom, and judging by some of my younger self's misguided choices, that adage could be true, at least for me. In 1984, after graduating from college with a degree in audio production, I moved back to England, where I had spent most of my teen years as a boarding school inmate. I had friends and connections there, and despite being a US citizen, I had some kind of sketchy work authorization that allowed me to work legally in the UK for up to six months. I connected with my old school friend Morris Gould, and we found a flat in South London to share as I looked for work.

Morris had been the de facto leader of my high school punk band, The Ripchords. Six years later, he was getting started with a career as ambient chill-out deejay Mixmaster Morris, releasing records as The Irresistible Force. Our apartment became a kind of hub in the South London music scene, with musicians and industry people circling through. Eventually, I found a job working at Music and Video Exchange, the gear-focused branch of the popular Record and Tape Exchange chain of secondhand record shops. At M&VE, the staff had first dibs on any cool gear that came in, and I remember being intensely envious when colleague Andy snagged a rare EMS VCS 3 synthesizer for almost nothing.