Tom Fine

For Warner Music Group, the Doors have been a deep vein of music gold. Their albums have never been out of print, and the catalog has enjoyed regular reissues for decades. Each new version of the Doors' first six albums sells well enough to prompt another trip to the vaults.

The latest moonlight drive down love street is a series of all-analog LPs from Rhino High Fidelity (RHF). A limited-edition numbered box set version sold out in days; un-numbered single LPs will sell until the production parts wear out. Cut by Kevin Gray at Cohearant Mastering using his Studer A-80 tape machine and Neumann VMS-66 lathe with Technics quartz-drive motor, they were plated and pressed at Optimal in Germany and are housed in the heavy-cardboard gatefold jackets used throughout the RHF series.

One of the things I value most in life is clarity. In my work, in my intellectual pursuits, and in my relationships, I try to cut through the noise and find the place where I can clearly see facts, goals, feelings, the big picture. If I can find clarity, it's much easier to form opinions, make plans, and take action. Success becomes more likely.

In audio reproduction, my values are similar. I can't enjoy music if the system is producing a clouded, muddy, overly warm, or otherwise unclear sound. I want the electromechanical representation of music to be richly detailed, sharply focused, and full range in dynamics and frequency. In that kind of all-encompassing and attention-demanding aesthetic, I can truly hear what the music is about. Under those conditions, the nature of the recording—good or bad, craft or crud—is plainly heard.

The marriage of little streaming computers to DACs was at first a shotgun thing, a way to add Swiss Army knife capabilities at a price point. That was back when it was cutting-edge to have a NAS server full of digital files on the home network, and when commercial streaming was new, primitive, and lossy. Remember Pandora? Cool idea, but who wants to sit through ads and not be able to skip over more than a handful of disliked tunes every hour. Then Spotify came along. Then Apple and Amazon jumped in, and that's all she wrote. Eventually, streaming even got around to us audiophiles who desired lossless audio of at least CD resolution. Viva Qobuz!

The EXN100 is Cambridge Audio's state-of-the-art streaming DAC. It's half of the new EX line; the other half is the EXA100 integrated amplifier.

What if there was a character in Stanley Kubrick's classic movie 2001: A Space Odyssey who was an audiophile? Aboard the Discovery One interplanetary space ship, what would his system look like? He'd probably have a pair of ultramodern speakers that could pluck sound out of the ether. He'd control the system with something like a present-day smartphone or tablet, commanding the HAL 9000 computer to play his favorite songs. The speakers would stand unobtrusively in a white room with 1970s modern-minimalist furniture, no rack of components to drive them, no wires connecting them, no shelves of physical media to play. And they would fill the room with music.

I am sitting earthbound in my living room almost a quarter-century beyond the year 2001, living a similar scenario with the Focal Diva Utopia streaming amplified wireless speaker system. My living room is not at all reminiscent of the Discovery One with its rotating central interior (footnote 1). But with the Diva Utopia system, I feel more in a sci-fi future young me might have imagined than with any hi-fi component I've reviewed so far. About the only thing the Diva Utopia has in common with the stereo systems I grew up with—and with my current reference system—is two floorstanding cabinets and diaphragms that move air to make sound.

A quick survey of 1977's rock albums shows a vibrant genre, pushing in many directions at once. British punk went major label, with debut albums from The Clash, The Damned, Wire, and The Sex Pistols (their only studio album). The Ramones released Rocket to Russia. David Bowie explored a new direction with both Low and Heroes. Mainstream blockbusters included Rumours by Fleetwood Mac, News of the World by Queen, Slowhand by Eric Clapton, and Pink Floyd's Animals. Not to mention Meat Loaf 's Bat Out of Hell and the soundtrack to Saturday Night Fever (footnote 1).

Amid all of this, there was a distinct new sound, quickly labeled New Wave. It wasn't rock like Queen, Pink Floyd, or anything coming out of Laurel Canyon. And it wasn't manufactured in the disco-pop factories. But it wasn't punk. It was NYC-centric, but there was also Brit brat (before brat was a thing), Elvis Costello, introducing himself with My Aim Is True. Back in the Big Apple, two seminal new wave debuts dropped in 1977: Television's Marquee Moon, and Talking Heads: 77.

Here's a hard truth: A written review of a full-sized speaker—any speaker, really—is, at best, semi-useful. We all listen differently, we have different musical tastes, our system electronics are different, and our listening rooms vary a lot. You will gain a general picture of a speaker's capabilities and foibles from John Atkinson's measurements, and I can tell you how the speakers sound to me, in my room. But that's it. You need to hear them for yourself before making a buying decision. The best I can do is tell you how my music brain felt when the speakers were in my house and making music.

But hey, that's better than nothing. If you're in the market for a pair of modestly sized, reasonably priced floorstanding loudspeakers, I encourage you to read on as I describe the lively musical times I spent with the Sonus faber Sonetto V G2s ($6499/pair).

All bands dissolve eventually, for reasons ranging from commercial failure, personnel dynamics, and death to just running out of steam. The band X, beloved by its niche fanbase and highly influential in punk, hard rock, and even alt-country, decided to control the time and place of its end. Earlier this year, they announced "the final album," Smoke & Fiction. "The End Is Near" tour listed shows through October 2024.