Ken Micallef

True Source Audio Distributors debuted the massive G.I.P. Laboratory 4165 field coil horn-loaded loudspeakers at CAF, featuring the Japanese company’s replicas of the original Western Electric 4165 driver. The 70lb G.I.P. 4165 Radiata pine cabinets filled nearly half of the small Hilton room. G.I.P.’s TW 38 tweeter sat atop the large cabinets.

Fidelis Distribution’s Walter Swanbon plays the long game. Like other legacy manufacturers—think Audio Note, Tannoy, Audio Research—Swanbon’s equipment offerings are classics: some in waiting, some long established as leaders.

Compared to past years, Fidelity Imports and its stable of brands kept a lower profile at this year’s Capital Audiofest. It shared rooms with local dealer, The Listening Room (“Audio Systems of Distinction” since 1978), showing equipment I have become familiar with both from afar and up close, as in my recent review of the Michell TecnoDec at Analog Planet, and soon, the Union Research S6 integrated amplifier for Stereophile.

So there I was, in the parking lot of the Rockville Hilton, cigar smoke curling into the crisp autumn air, grilling Gary Gill about his brainchild, Capital Audio Fest (CAF). This East Coast audio extravaganza has grown into a monster, bursting at the seams of its Rockville venue.

Hi-fi's vintage-tech revival feels like a Don Draper fever dream. You know Draper, right? The smooth-talking ad man from Mad Men? In one episode, he pitches a new Kodak slide projector, but instead of focusing on the science and the specs, he calls it a "carousel"—think bouncing painted horses—and says it will take people back to a simpler time.

For its early-'60s moment, that slide projector is high-tech—and "technology is a glittering lure," Draper tells the assembled group of cigarette-smoking suits around a conference room table. Draper mentions Teddy, a Greek former colleague Draper says taught him the ropes years ago. Teddy says that "new" is the most important idea in advertising, but he also talks about a deeper bond that can sometimes be established with a product. "Nostalgia. It's delicate, but potent."

Modern turntables are a paradox. The ever-evolving technology beneath their sleek exteriors fascinates me. The high-end turntable market these days can feel less like a haven for music lovers and more like a brutalist arms race in pursuit of maximum audio extraction.

Yet, it's not all about performance. Many new 'tables are adorned with outlandish, purely cosmetic flourishes that cause me to chuckle. Some super-bling record players, with their jutting angles and industrial menace, evoke the chrome carcass of the Battlestar Galactica, a testament to mechanical might. Others are even more menacing, channeling the mirror-finish abyss of Darth Vader's helmet, gleaming with a promise of sonic domination—but is that an invitation or a threat?

Setting aside those cosmetic affectations, it's a war, and the enemy—well, the main enemy anyway—is vibrations, which may seem strange considering that vibrations are the whole point of the endeavor.

"Hybrid" technology—specifically, mixing tubed and solid state in the same amplification device—stirs a deep desire for many enthusiasts. It has the potential to embody a perfect blend: the tonal liquidity, presence, and spaciousness of tubes coupled with the power and dependability of solid state. It's potentially an end-game technology.

Still, I have long remained skeptical. I am, I confess, a certain kind of audiophile, a blend of purist and traditionalist. I favor older technologies and simpler circuits. Amplifiers—including integrated amplifiers—should be tubed, input to output. Rectification? Tubes of course. I've even entertained OTL designs—the idea of them at least, though my experiences have been mixed.