It's funny because:
Just as Wes suggested though I so earnestly try to never hold expectations of any sort, and I talk a lot of smack about never expecting anything from this life, I'm really full of it: I have great expectations, and often scold myself for expecting too much I figured I must have simply been expecting the magic to come. Or "looking for it," as my mom might say. And you can't go looking for it, she tells me. Because, if you do, you'll never find it. Whatever, ma.
I have a full-length commute. It lasts just about as long as an album. For instance, if I plug in the iPod and press play on Dinosaur Jr.'s Beyond just as I leave my apartment, the album comes to a glorious end exactly as I enter our office's elevators. This was a great discovery.
We’re currently working on our July 2010 issue, which will include Wes Phillips’ review of the Vivid Audio G1Giya loudspeaker ($65,000/pair). Near the end of Wes’ auditioning, the domes of both upper-midrange units were inexplicably damaged. As you can see from the picture, it appears the domes were poked by some sort of dull object. Wes didn’t do it; Wes’ wife didn’t do it. We’ll never know how the damage occurred. What we do know is that the aluminum-dome midrange unit is incredibly delicate and has a strong magnetic pull.
Illustrator Jeff Wong is working on a portrait of Stereophile founder, J. Gordon Holt, to appear in our October issue. Since Jeff will need some reference material, John Atkinson and I have been having a whole lot of fun sorting through great, old Stereophilememorabilia, trinkets, photos.
It was a glorious day. The Good Lord smiled upon our little blue world with clear skies, warm sunshine, and limited edition 7" singles. I strolled into Tunes at 11:30am, just a half-hour after the store had opened. A large crowd of happy shoppers was already huddled round the main display shelves. Radiohead singles from every era of the band's brilliant career and so many colorful 7" discs and samplers and posters and platter mats and they have already run out of the Sonic Youth/Beck splits. What? Figures! Oh well. I am not disappointednot too terribly. Instead, I am happy for those who came before me, happy for the bands and happy for the labels and happy for the world.
Associate publisher, Keith Pray leads a parade of Primedia staffers from the office, down the hall, through the revolving doors, onto Madison Avenue, and into Mulligan's Irish Pub. On his way, he sings out:
Some people might wonder what it is about me and the Rega P3. Why would I simply settle on the old Rega when there are so many other similarly priced turntables out there?
The success of any party depends on just a few things: the venue, the guests, the food and drink, and (of course) the music. Evenings at John DeVore's factory at the Brooklyn Navy Yard are invariably successful. More than that, they are fun. You love the place. You enjoy the company. The food is delicious and the drinks do the trick. And (of course) the music is intoxicating. You want to be there.
A gift from Uncle JA: The DB Systems DBP-10 protractor. This thing has been around since the dawn of time. When Jesus needed a protractor to properly align the Denon DL-103 moving-coil cartridge on his heavily modified Technics SL-1200 turntable, he called up David Hadaway at DB Systems. “Thou shall never sell this kick-ass protractor for more than $49, David,” said Jesus. David, of course, allowed Jesus to keep his sample on “a long-term loan.”
I'm still surprised whenever approached by some faithless audiophile hair thinning, ears sagging, belly bulging and asked (seriously): "Do you think there's any hope for our industry?"
In our July issue, I open “The Entry Level” by discussing some recent nights spent with my dear friends, Natalie and Nicole, dancing and drinking and laughing at our favorite local bar, Lucky 7, in downtown Jersey City. I go on to discuss the loneliness I sometimes feel when the night is over and the time has come to walk back home, beneath the pale yellow light of streetlamps and through the neon-puddled streets.
I know that sounds sad and all, but, come on, I’m writing about music. I’m trying to be evocative, emotional, musical. When I go on to mention that Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” plays over and over in my mind as I walk past Hollywood Fried Chicken, I’m obviously being silly, right? I’m mixing pathos and absurdity to create a fun and interesting read.
Everything I write is true, to some extent, but everything is not necessarily the stuff that makes up reality. I take scenes from my life and bend them, distort and manipulate them, leaving room for insinuation and ambiguity, in order to create compelling stories. I attempt to relate those stories to music and hi-fi. I do it for my own pleasure, and I hope it brings you pleasure, too.
(Don't worry: The stuff I write about sound, however, is all as accurate and straightforward as I can possibly make it.)
Anyway, I think it was my July issue column that got some people talking over at the Audio Asylum, the popular online forum for hi-fi enthusiasts. Regor Ladan started the tread. He wrote: