In my August 1 editorial, I talked about the recent arrivals and departures in my review system. It’s been uncharacteristically variable lately, which has made reviewing a challenge. To make this variability work, I’ve been listening pretty much non-stop, and it’s been hard work. Oh boo-hoo, you might be thinking. Poor Jason—he’s got to listen to music all day. World’s smallest violin, etc.
My VPI Prime Signature has been in my system for six years now, ever since I reviewed it back in 2018. After I finished the review, I agonized over my next steps. I’d owned a Pro-Ject RPM-series turntable since 2004, starting with the RPM 9, which I bought after I’d finished that review. Then came the RPM 10 in 2007, followed by the RPM 10 Carbon in 2017. Those turntables had made me an honest man three times over, and I really, really enjoyed my time with them.
Curtis Counce, and that album cover!
I’ve always loved You Get More Bounce with Curtis Counce! by the Curtis Counce Group. It’s a delightfully easy, loping album, full of smooth, juicy lyricism, almost totally absent of the paid-by-the-note speed-bop that often leaves me feeling cold. But it’s not so laid-back that it’s going in reverse. Rather, it’s a midway blend of West Coast chardonnay and Chicago barrel whiskey. There’s some wonderful soloing going on here—Miles meets Ben Webster without the drug addictions. The arrival of the Craft Recordings reissue of this criminally underappreciated album really sent me down a rabbit hole.
The phono cable is the most critical piece of wire in your audio system. I make this statement with certainty. In North America, power cords carry an alternating current at 120V. Speaker cables may need to carry a few dozen volts. Line-level interconnects throw up to about 2V. But the phono cable? A low-output moving coil squeaks out somewhere around 0.5mV. Spin that number up to a value in volts and you get 0.0005V.
About 35 years ago, via a mutual friend, I became acquainted with Matthew, an aspiring poet and keen dabbler in psychedelic drugs. At that point in my life, I’d basically finished with psychedelics, as the transition from carefree student to aspiring systems programmer had siphoned much of the fun out of that form of recreation.
Just recently, one of my wife’s family friends stopped by to drop off a book. It was a hot day and JB had been roaming the city by public transit, so Marcia and I invited him in for a coffee and a glass of water. JB was carrying a cloth bag containing some LP-shaped objects. I’m a dog person, so I metaphorically sniffed his butt and asked him what was in the bag.
Certain albums resonate with me. Often, it’s the setting I associate with these records that entrenches the music in my core memory. The music is important in isolation, of course, but the association with life events cements certain records into the root system.
The email came to me courtesy of Brent Butterworth, who until recently was our go-to guy for headphones. “I can’t do anything with this, but it’s super-cool and I figured you might want to write about it.” The pitch Brent forwarded was a press release describing how Vinyl Moon, a company that each month releases a unique LP of mixed new music along with nifty original artwork, is now providing an augmented reality (AR) visualization of their experience.
Right from the very first audio-industry show I attended with SoundStage!, the 2001 Son et Image show in Montreal (now called Montreal Audiofest), I found myself extremely dissatisfied with the music at these events, both in terms of what exhibitors would play and showgoers would request. How can you possibly gauge a system by listening to a solo flute? And why would anyone wish to inflict it on a room full of strangers?
“When I’m too old and feeble to stop you, you’re probably gonna sell my record collection, right?”