Wes Phillips

"Its a dessert topping!"
"No, its a floor wax!"
"Dessert topping!"
"Floor wax!"
"Kids, don't argue—it's a dessert topping and a floor wax!"

Twenty years later, this Saturday Night Live routine still rings true. Experience has taught me that very few products can do two things equally well. Remember those jaunty amphibicars that sported propellers on their rear decks, letting you drive them straight into the lake after a bracing spin along the back roads? Unfortunately, they could neither corner well nor handle even the slightest chop. As for Swiss Army Knives, well, I guess it's better to have a mediocre screwdriver/awl/magnifying glass/tweezers with you than none at all. And I've never seen a Veg-O-Matic in a professional kitchen, just mandolines, food processors, and knives.

"Wow!" Jerome Harris—jazz guitarist, bassist, and composer—stopped talking and listened intently to the rough-mixdown dub of his latest album, Hidden in Plain View: The Music of Eric Dolphy (New World 80472-2 CD) (footnote 1). He'd brought it by my house in order to hear it on another system before pronouncing judgment. "That sounds like us! And I ought to know because I was there..."

It wasn't the first time the Metaphor 2s had totally transfixed a visitor with their accurate portrayal of a musical event. This time, however, they'd done it to one of the participants of that specific performance. It isn't as if it was easy stuff to disentangle, either. Jerome's disc is texturally dense: Marty Ehrlich and Don Byron on reeds, Ray Anderson on trombone, E.J. Allen on trumpet, Bill Ware on vibes, Bobby Previte on drums, and Jerome himself on acoustic bass guitar—occasionally all wailing away simultaneously. The Metaphor 2s have the articulation to sort out all of those interweaving melody and rhythm lines, the frequency balance to render them with astonishing timbral veracity, and the speed to ensure that, even with four drivers in a large enclosure, it all arrives at the same time and with swing aplenty. Does it sound as though I'm describing one hell of a speaker? I think so anyway.

Coincident Speaker Technology was known until recently as Concentric Speaker Technology. Under that name they marketed a line of cylindrical speakers covered in leather. All of their previous offerings have been discontinued along with their former name; the Troubador ($1495/pair), a handsome two-way housed in an asymmetrical cabinet, is the first of their new line of speakers. A bass module/speaker support à la the Wilson Puppy is also offered. Coincident's speakers are designed by Israel Blume and are direct-marketed in the US. There's a 30-day money-back guarantee and a five-year warranty on parts and labor.

As the music swelled in the background, Humphrey Bogart leaned toward Ingrid Bergman and tenderly said, "Mnn mmmm mnn nnrm murrrmr."

Damn! I hate when that happens. I ran the laserdisc back and played it again, this time louder.

"MNN MMMM MNN NNRM MURRRMR," said Bogart.

When you think about it, the center channel is probably the most important channel—if you don't believe this, watch a movie sometime with the dialog speaker turned off and see how compelling the experience is. I mean, I like explosions, rocket launches, and train wrecks as much as the next guy, but what I really want from a video sound system is the words.