Music and Recording Features

Mike Mettler talks with Burton Cummings and Randy Bachman about The Guess Who's new reunion tour, why they were early proponents of releasing stereo singles, which one of them loves vinyl and which one prefers CD and digital, and how the eternal hit that is "American Woman" was born out of an improvised riff during a live show.

Since founding Ojas in the 1990s and applying the name to his audio components, Devon Turnbull has mined a young audience that the traditional hi-fi industry has struggled to reach. Those who know about him receive his speakers, amplifiers, and turntables as if they were gifts delivered from on high.

The Compact Disc needed a big win—and fast. During its first few years in the marketplace, the format wasn't living up to lofty expectations. Part of the problem maybe was that most of the CDs released up to that time came from analog sources.

But then on May 17, 1985, the CD's savior arrived: Brothers in Arms, the fifth studio album release by British rock stalwarts Dire Straits. Trumpeted as one of the first "full digital recordings" in the pop/rock oeuvre, Brothers in Arms was an undeniable smash international hit from a band that had struck it big already. Exactly 40 years later, it remains a benchmark recording and a top seller.

"That's pretty odious," Andy Summers says to me. "An odious comparison." His blueish eyes darken. Roughly an hour into our 90-minute face-to-face interview, I'd asked if it bothers him that in terms of reach and staying power, his solo oeuvre will never match his work with The Police.

To me, the observation seemed factual and uncontroversial, like saying that the sun rises in the east. The Police sold more than 75 million records and played some of the largest venues in the world. The night before our interview, I'd watched Summers perform a show in a 400-seat theater in rural Waldoboro, Maine.

If there's one word that best describes the sound of the Boston-bred alt-rock quartet known as Pixies, it has to be "dynamics." It's a musical milieu Pixies have deftly presented for 37 years and counting, right from the outset of the sinister janglefest known as "Caribou," the opening track on their inaugural September 1987 EP on 4AD, Come On Pilgrim.

From there, short, sanguine, sweet, succinctly titled songs like "Debaser," "Velouria," "Monkey Gone to Heaven," "Gigantic," "Here Comes Your Man," "Gouge Away," and "Where Is My Mind?" have all served to cement the bedrock of Pixies' planet of sound. Chief Pixies songwriter and vocalist/guitarist Black Francis—born Charles Thompson—recently described it in an interview for Stereophile as this: "Let's be quiet. Now, let's be loud. Let's be whispering. Now, let's be explosive." That's a precise four-sentence descriptor not only of their entire prior CV but also of Pixies' latest, and ninth studio album, the forebodingly titled The Night the Zombies Came, which was released by BMG in October 2024.

High-end audio product launches are often modest affairs. The unveiling, on December 5, 2024, of the Oneiros Audio loudspeaker ($650,000/pair) was an exception. A collaborative effort by Fidelis Distribution, Nexus Audio Technologies, and Sohmer Associates, the event, which occurred at the Power Station in NYC's Hell's Kitchen, apparently spared no expense.

Boris Blank has a cold, and three days after meeting him in his hometown of Zurich, I do too. This seems apt. Metaphorically, he's been infecting me for decades.

For almost 45 years, Yello, the pioneering Swiss band that Blank formed with singer Dieter Meier, has created witty electropop that provokes joy and awe in attentive listeners. You can dance to most of this music, of course—it's often hard not to—but its allure, its spell, goes deeper. For one thing, Yello's music is delightfully visual. Cinema for the ears.