July 1, 2007

Burglary Breeds Awareness of Things That Matter

I

It has been awhile since my byline appeared in these cyber pages. A former colleague wishfully opined that I would never be heard from again. Inertia of rest being an anodyne, I was slow to take issue. Here I am, however, a changed if not quite a new man.

For those who are unaware, I was the victim of a home-invasion robbery last Christmas Day. The material loss was not as bad as the emotional effect. I lost faith in my status as a foreigner in Paradise. Consequent soul scans led me to revisit a number of personal beliefs. One of the tenets was whether hi-fi is necessary to my life. Having uprooted and moved twice in three months (the thieves followed me via a trail of cable droppings), I found myself without a stereo system for the first time in 16 years. Preoccupied with other concerns, I was immune to the missing music.

That is, until April, when I uncrated a stainless-steel dance pole and installed it in el nuevo apartamento. The dancer upstairs, Jacqueline C., pointedly observed that spinning around without music was a ten-second adventure at best. In the interest of Jackie’s health and vitality, I decided it was time to get some music going.

Out of a warehouse of audio goodies, I retrieved a stereo receiver, CD player and a pair of minimonitors whose lack of bass was a sop to the neighbors. Except for a set of experimental speaker cables exhumed from a pile of desktop miscellany, all wires were of the free-in-box variety.

As soon as the first notes leaked out, I felt nostalgic. It was like 1972 all over again, except digitized. The old familiar screech dismayed me for an instant. Then the new Jim took over: I had music playing and nothing else mattered. To Jackie, the playback quality was a non-issue. As long as she could move to a beat, the sound pleased her -- and me.

Even without a dance number to invoke its use, I find myself listening contentedly to this simple system. I had forgotten how versatile a receiver can be. From my perch in the computer room, music on the radio is a blessing. My train of thought is never interrupted by the need to get up and change discs. Still, convenience is only one reason I listen. With the doorway and ten meters to smooth out the rough spots, I actually like the sound of FM (although a CD at three paces goes unrequited). What has transpired? Has the trauma of a burglary shorted out certain brain cells? Could a sense of mortality affect the depth of one’s passion for non-essentials such as hi-fi? Carl Sagan once said, "The cosmos is all there is, or was, or ever will be." One can always hope for more.

II


Jim Saxon is a world-famous audio dealer (well, in Latin America at least) and mixes a mean margarita. The products discussed here may be sold, distributed, or otherwise promoted by Jim. Read at your own risk!

Recently, I began gingerly to install a high-end system in a very large room (not my own). The components and loudspeakers were familiar to me. The room was the X-factor. Since all items were for sale, maximizing the setup’s performance was of vital interest. Yet, with the exception of diffusers (which may do more harm than good), I did little to improve the space. Rather, I tried to adjust my ears to "hear through" the room to the tonal balance, amplitude and inner detail inherent there. In other words, I sought to listen as a regular person might. Lessons abounded.

First, I have found that cables hardly matter. Robust single-ended coaxial interconnects seem to work as well here as balanced OCC-copper gems. I do hear a small difference when the moon is full, but that could be a figment of an erstwhile imagination. When the young man who builds my cables expressed concern over adding solder to a pair of screw-on connectors, we sat down for a round of A-B comparisons. As my friend predicted, the cables with soldered-on banana plugs sounded duller than the ones anchored only by screws. We listened again and again, until I finally concluded that the solder may have a marginal effect on the sound, but I surprised both Enrique and myself by declaring that the new cables were "good enough for me." This conclusion freed me from the creeping obsession that A-B comparisons invoke. It was like removing a large rock from atop my chest. I like the feeling.

Second, transistor amplifiers sound the same, more or less. An extroverted system in a big room needs high current to control the woofers. If damping capability is similar, the nuances of competing designs are hard to detect and not sufficient to worry about. On the other hand, a tube amplifier sounds even better in large system than in small one. Tubes are said to clip more gracefully, and I agree they sound less "glassy" at high levels, despite the glowing bottles. Although I applaud the trend toward lightweight, efficient transistor circuitry with switching power supplies, my secret love of bottle amps has been reinforced by recent events. Yet, my ardor is tempered. Tubes make me hold my breath every time I flip the On switch. The increase in blood pressure is unwelcome. Perhaps the answer is the big, new hybrid amplifier from Audio Research. I await its arrival.

Third, integrated amplifiers have no place in a wide-range system. The compromises required to stuff a powerful amp and preamp in the same box sow seeds of destruction. Using a 120-watt hybrid integrated amplifier to drive Usher Be-10 loudspeakers to 100dB peaks, I was halfway into Pink Floyd’s Pulse CD when the amp overheated and blew up. Though the hybrid’s holography was fun while it lasted, I intend to relegate the unit, once repaired, to a modest corner system. People who party hard should forget about using an integrated amplifier. A smoking chassis ends all celebration.

Fourth, I have found that low-frequency extension from a one-box loudspeaker is inadequate. Despite their specifications, very few "reasonably priced" transducers can play loud and lucid below about 80Hz. A powered subwoofer is a necessary evil. It takes up space, needs careful positioning, and responds to patient crossover fiddling. Even then, it is never perfectly set for all recordings. On the other hand, most competent subwoofers do a good job with bass only. Many of the new high-tech models like Paradigm’s Seismic series are more cost-effective than upgrading to larger loudspeakers. While a pair of subwoofers offsets the cost savings, two subs in a spacious setting (40’ x 20’) are more than twice as good as one. To my ears, low-frequency music, as opposed to test tones, is directional. A single subwoofer in a far corner draws attention at the wrong moment. Dual subs enhance the image of an acoustic bass standing tall alongside a piano that is solidly rendered front and center. In addition, a pair of bass workhorses stunningly captures the illusion of a recording venue. A properly dimensioned room becomes the soundstage itself. Lifelike presentations become addictive. Once you go big, you can never go back.

This leads me to an appreciation of our listening rooms. Despite being poorly proportioned, hard and reflective, most of them are too small. Architects, as a group, take no notice of audiophiles. Otherwise, why do they design tiny TV rooms or "media" cubes for Madame? If Monsieur wants stereo, let him beg for space. I believe the discontentment endemic to hi-fi buffs stems from bad rooms, not bland electronics. Ultra Audio editor Jeff Fritz’s epic tale of remodeling a difficult and, dare I say, too-small room for better acoustics is required reading. I am skeptical that a heavily dampened attic can beat a barely treated salon, but Jeff’s story is enlightening. Before considering any component or loudspeaker change, a hobbyist should evaluate his surroundings. Even a modest system benefits from attention to wall boundaries that turn music to mush. Ignore the wife acceptance factor. Or don’t get married in the first place. Audiophiles are latent eremites.

III

Heretofore, my epitaph might have read, "He never met an accessory he didn’t like." The list of aural magic pills I have purchased reads like a Who’s Who of Quondam Physics. In my former introverted setting, everything made a difference, but the improvements were never cumulative. There was always room for a new fix. Ironically, even as I accumulated them by the carload, I suspected most hi-fi cures were overpriced séance devices. Now, newly serious, I am sure of it, although like Steve Martin’s Jerk, I cannot abandon a few pet possessions: Shun Mook Mpingos, ERS paper, and the Machina Dynamica Clever Li'l Clock, which at least looks the part. Footers, toppers, dampers, and pointy objects need not apply in a wide-open listening area. Since no one wants last season’s tweaks, I have instructed my next of kin to bury me with all the junk they find in my closet. Maybe the stuff will work in all that heat.

IV

Playing catch up after a half-year sabbatical, I read a number of hi-fi reviews. The inflated phraseology was shocking. Euphoric descriptions, excessive praise, and the overuse of superlatives are entering outer space. Someone even suggested, in jest I hope, that the loudspeakers he had in for review were the ones God would buy. To me, this is the ultimate blasphemy. Yet, rival reporters would seek to trump it. Spread the word: Reckless praise causes global warming.

Ironically, the performance of high-end-audio gear has not kept pace with the breathless prose demanded by readers and manufacturers. In my experience, the preamplifiers, amplifiers and even CD players of five, ten, twenty years ago would require a minimum of newly developed parts and procedures in order to compete in today’s market. Are beryllium tweeters more revealing than paper drivers? How would a pair of Beverage electrostatics sound (and survive) with space-age materials? An ARC SP-6 preamp from 1980 can easily be upgraded to four-star standards. Is that why we need ten stars today? If so, those last six orbs count for almost nothing.

Even more deplorable is the garden of online chat where uninformed opinions thrive like poison ivy. Adamant posters swing the most weight with their confreres. In most cases, the person praising or blasting a product has had little or no experience to inform his idle cant. I miss the era when a reviewer took months to evaluate new gear in the confines of his own listening room. Nowadays, anyone who spends an hour abusing a stereo dealer’s time can profess "knowledge" of any component that sparks an interest. The same chatters who lambaste a formal review’s lack of scientific methodology jump to the tune of any glib Internet song. The lemming effect has caused too many manufacturers to visit, support and kowtow to the forum crowd. Companies whose review links list inflated chat comments alongside bona fide reports do us all a disservice. Yet, the sowing of online night soil can be treacherous for a company that lives by the chat. The weeds will strangle; the politicians will survive. Who needs hi-fi designed by politicians?

V

A few paragraphs ago, I praised the new "digital" amplifier technologies. I like their potential for cost, energy and space savings, but I do not think these circuits advance the state of the art. To my ear, they take a backward step in the quest for realistic playback. Although switching amps are nimble enough to fool the casual ear, those of us who listen seriously know these appliances are designed to imitate traditional amplifiers rather than strive to approach the sound of live music. While I continue to use and support "digital" technology, I consider plug-and-play implementations as mid-fidelity poseurs rather than true high-end gear. Here is a little-known fact: ICEpower is the cause of global warming. Spread the word.

VI

Becoming sane about hi-fi is not without shortfalls. The main negative is a loss of a longtime desire. In an age in which we thrill to reality shows and video games, gut-wrenching emotions are hard to come by. I used to yearn almost physically for new, better, more expensive gear. Now, I dread new product announcements. I have nothing against progress, but I hate being jilted. Most of the New Improved Special Edition Reference Statement Ultimate products I read about, yearned for, and purchased proved to be false idols. The toll they took on my bank account and expectant nature are beyond measure. Having forgiven too many broken promises, I find that love has turned to indifference. The once eagerly read press releases and full-color advertisements leave me unmoved. The reviewer’s crafty siren's song no longer instills need.

Although hi-fi can be huge fun, it can also be a feckless mistress that spends your money and leaves you in the cold. If I have any acquisitive urges left, I would rather seek new outlets. To those who buy based upon reviews and Internet reports, I suggest you read less and ignore chat groups. Take claims of ultimate performance as moon dust. Aim your lust at works of art that always satisfy. Find a pole-dancer.

…Jim Saxon
jims@soundstageav.com

 


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