The Emmeline SR-71 portable headphone amplifier ($395) is small but not light. Housed in an extruded-aluminum chassis with a bolt-on faceplate and a rear panel and battery cover that attaches with a thumb-screw, it measures 3.5" by 2.5" by 1.5" and weighs 11oz. That <I>sounds </I>light, especially compared to some of the headphone amps I've carted around in the past&mdash;not to mention their four&ndash;D-cell extended power supplies&mdash;but in the iPod era, it's the portable equivalent of a class-A power amp. So why would anybody be willing to lug it around?

The Emmeline SR-71 portable headphone amplifier ($395) is small but not light. Housed in an extruded-aluminum chassis with a bolt-on faceplate and a rear panel and battery cover that attaches with a thumb-screw, it measures 3.5" by 2.5" by 1.5" and weighs 11oz. That <I>sounds </I>light, especially compared to some of the headphone amps I've carted around in the past&mdash;not to mention their four&ndash;D-cell extended power supplies&mdash;but in the iPod era, it's the portable equivalent of a class-A power amp. So why would anybody be willing to lug it around?

The Emmeline SR-71 portable headphone amplifier ($395) is small but not light. Housed in an extruded-aluminum chassis with a bolt-on faceplate and a rear panel and battery cover that attaches with a thumb-screw, it measures 3.5" by 2.5" by 1.5" and weighs 11oz. That <I>sounds </I>light, especially compared to some of the headphone amps I've carted around in the past&mdash;not to mention their four&ndash;D-cell extended power supplies&mdash;but in the iPod era, it's the portable equivalent of a class-A power amp. So why would anybody be willing to lug it around?

I'm beginning to understand why some people enjoy writing about crazy tweaks like electron counseling and magic listening trousers: When an idea is <I>that</I> new, it brings with it the chance for some gifted but heretofore unappreciated journalist to rise through the ranks and describe it to an anxious world. By contrast, when a defeated and baggy old establishment writer sets out to describe a CD player or amplifier, the product is surely the millionth such thing to come down the pike, and before long the readers complain: <I>We used to like you, but you don't try very hard to excite us anymore</I>.

I'm beginning to understand why some people enjoy writing about crazy tweaks like electron counseling and magic listening trousers: When an idea is that new, it brings with it the chance for some gifted but heretofore unappreciated journalist to rise through the ranks and describe it to an anxious world. By contrast, when a defeated and baggy old establishment writer sets out to describe a CD player or amplifier, the product is surely the millionth such thing to come down the pike, and before long the readers complain: We used to like you, but you don't try very hard to excite us anymore.

Looking back to see which of the multichannel discs I've reported on that have made a splash in the market, I detect an ominous trend. Most are reissues of classic performances, including all the RCA Living Stereo and the Mercury Living Presence SACDs, as well as a number of classic jazz and rock albums (including yet more editions of <I>Kind of Blue</I>, <I>Dark Side of the Moon</I>, and <I>Brothers in Arms</I>).

Looking back to see which of the multichannel discs I've reported on that have made a splash in the market, I detect an ominous trend. Most are reissues of classic performances, including all the RCA Living Stereo and the Mercury Living Presence SACDs, as well as a number of classic jazz and rock albums (including yet more editions of <I>Kind of Blue</I>, <I>Dark Side of the Moon</I>, and <I>Brothers in Arms</I>).