Jim Austin

I remember, though not well, when I acquired my first "10-speed" bike. My parents bought it for me at Sears. It cost about $100. It had a white frame with red and blue accents. It replaced one of those super-fun high-handlebar, banana-seat bikes some folks reminisce about . . . That would have been around 1978. Taking inflation into account, that bike would cost about $400 today.

By my estimation, this year's High End hi-fi show—the last in Munich before the world's largest audio show moves to Vienna—was a major success, perhaps the first I've attended since the pandemic that managed to completely escape that shadow. Every day but Sunday it was very busy—sometimes too busy; on the busiest days, the hallways at the MOC convention center reminded me of NYC's Fifth Avenue on Black Friday, an experience I've had once and hope to never have again. Most important: I heard a lot of really good sound.

As I write this, the current US president recently put into effect large import tariffs on almost every country except (oddly) Russia and North Korea, then paused for most countries (including EU countries) for 90 days (except for 10%, and then another 10%). The 145% tariff on Chinese exports wasn't paused (except for computers and smartphones).

Tariffs are the dominant force in our industry right now, due partly to the added cost but also to the uncertainty they create. New products, especially those made in China, have been delayed because prices can't be set. Companies in Europe and elsewhere are waiting and seeing; some have implemented or are contemplating price increases; others have decided (for now) to keep prices the same.

I wrote much of this column, including the title, in early April before the Trump administration announced "reciprocal" tariffs on imported goods. A random example: Switzerland, home of CH Precision, darTZeel, Goldmund, Orpheus Lab, Piega, Stenheim, Thorens, and Wattson, among other hi-fi companies, where the tariff is 31%. Before this issue closed, the Trump administration announced a 90-day reprieve for everyone but China, then exempted computers and smartphones (and a few other categories) from the China tariffs. Importers and foreign manufacturers I talked to at AXPONA in April were happy for the reprieve but remained on edge. Uncertainty reigned.

I heard people at the show, including Stereophile writers, were talking about the Ø Audio room—though when I say they were talking about it, I don’t mean that they were saying the company’s name, since no one knew how to do that. I looked it up. Ø is a letter in Norwegian and Danish that comes after the end of our alphabet, after Æ and before Å. If you want to know how to pronounce it, I'll provide a link to a pronunciation guide. You'll notice that the pronunciation in Danish and Norwegian is quite different—though the pronunciation I heard from Norwegian Jonathan Cook to me sounded more like Danish.

One Saturday not long before press time for this issue, I received an email from Technical Editor (and former Editor) John Atkinson with the subject line, "20 Years Ago."

"Just read your May 2005 As We See It for the first time in many years," John wrote. "Great stuff!"

Could 20 years really have passed since I wrote that piece? Back then, I was in a different career, indulging my hi-fi passion by contributing to Stereophile on the side; now I'm in my seventh year as Stereophile editor. Then I was still a youngish dude; now I am an oldish dude. "Time flies" just doesn't capture it.

Some readers will surely remember that long-ago editorial. It was about a product dubbed the Intelligent Chip, a small piece of—well, something—encased in plastic. I wrote, "This small, plastic-encased device is claimed to permanently improve the sound of CDs. Just place the chip atop your CD player, insert a CD, and press Play. 'The sound of the upgraded disc more closely resembles the sound of the original master recording.'"

Recently, I found myself in an email correspondence with David Chesky, the musician/composer/entrepreneur behind Chesky Records and HDtracks, which was the world's first hi-rez music-download service. With his brother Norman, David has long run those businesses while engaging with his art. At the time of our correspondence, he was on tour with his jazz trio and busy "writing operas and children's works to keep me out of trouble," as he wrote in an email. Brother Norman, surely, has had much to do with the success of the Chesky ventures—I do not mean to give him short shrift—but it was David I was communicating with, so he is the focus here.