We are greatly saddened by the passing of Rondi D’Agostino (78) of Krell Industries. She was one of the most-loved and warm-hearted people in high-end audio. It was always a pleasure to see her at shows and events, where she was a powerful presence. I first got to meet her in the 1980s and could not help but smile every time I saw her walking towards me in a hotel hallway or industry event.
Rondi had been an audiophile since she was a teenager when she heard a Fisher system while babysitting. It was an ear-opening moment. Rondi began her career at Mark Levinson, where she met Dan D’Agostino (now of Dan D’Agostino Master Audio Systems), and the two of them founded Krell in 1980. The company went through a number of business trials and tribulations before she eventually regained her status as president. Krell has stated that they will continue to honor her legacy – as will so many of us, who will miss her beyond words.
Contributors to This Issue: Ray Chelstowski, Frank Doris, Harris Fogel, Rich Isaacs, Ken Kessler, Paul McGowan, B. Jan Montana, Rudy Radelic, Wayne Robins, Roland Schmenner, Peter Xeni
Logo Design: Susan Schwartz-Christian, from a concept by Bob D’Amico
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I will share some stories with you of our history over the last 50 years – half a century of making audio equipment. There are a lot of stories, some of which I cover in my memoir 99% True, while others have gone untold. Still others are lost in the mists of time.
One such story involves the creation of the PS Audio Digital Lens.
A decade or so after the introduction of the CD player, we audio manufacturers were totally immersed in the challenge of extracting all we could from this new media. At that time, vinyl still trounced digital (and not by just a little). CD reproduction through an external DAC was a fledgling category just out of the nest and fending for itself. Even the finest of DACs in that day were hard, bright, and somewhat two-dimensional sounding.
There was a lot to learn back then.
At that particular junction in time – the mid 1990s – I had sold PS Audio and had moved my family from California to Colorado to join Infinity founder Arnie Nudell in designing and building loudspeakers and the electronics needed to make them sing. The name of our company was Genesis Technologies.
This deviation of mine, from a pure electronics company like PS Audio, to a loudspeaker/electronics company like Genesis, left me twiddling my proverbial thumbs (not something I can tolerate for long). I had already designed all our servo electronics and power amplifiers and was working on an entirely new idea in amplification that would one day become the Stealth Amplifier (featuring user-adjustable Class A bias from 1 percent to 100 percent and a novel MOSFET pure-current amplification output stage that has still not been duplicated to this day). I was itching to get back into the digital fray.
During that period, my fellow designers and manufacturers in the high-end were expending all their efforts at raising digital performance levels by focusing on the all-important analog output stage. During that era, we saw everything from big vacuum-tube outputs to high-speed ultralinear analog whiz bangs. A few companies were experimenting with different DAC architectures, like the dCS Ring DAC (around 1989), and the PS Audio Ultra Analog entry (around 1993), but for the most part, the bulk of companies were basing their designs on off-the-shelf DAC chips from Texas Instruments and others.
(All these DACs were still what we refer to today as R2R DACs that were limited to 20 bits or so – like the Ultra Analog version from PS Audio – the exception being the 24-bit "sort of" performance that dCS achieved.)
I, on the other hand, was headed off in a very different direction.
At that early stage in the technology's development, no one was jumping up and down about superior sound quality to analog. In fact, any digital product even approaching a pale semblance to analog was hailed as a miracle wrought by wizards.
There weren't many miracles or wizards.
While others were focused on perfecting the output stage of the D-to-A converter, I became enamored with the idea of starting at the very beginning. How much did the bits themselves matter? The popular notion of the time was that one of the beauties of digital was that bits are bits. As long as you got the 1s and the 0s in the right place, not much else would matter.
Oh, the hubris.
One of the clues that got me headed down the "quality of bits might matter" rabbit hole was a curious CD transport we owned at Genesis. Our good friend and fellow audiophile crazy, a New York-based importer of audio equipment by the name of Victor Goldstein (now sadly deceased), had been haranguing Arnie and me about the wonders of a very pricey French transport from a company we knew primarily for its vacuum tube products. Jadis.
The Jadis JD-1 transport was a beautiful beast – a sculpted metal temple of gold and black that housed a decent top-loading transport from Philips. Victor was so excited about this new transport that he just shipped us one on loan, certain we would buy it as our new reference in the Genesis listening room. He was not wrong.
Incredibly (remember, this was back in the early ’90s when only DACs mattered to sound quality), CDs played on this transport were remarkably better than those same CDs played on any other transport we had on hand. And not by just a little bit.
The Jadis JD-1 transport. Courtesy of SkyFi Audio.
WTF?
Same bits. Completely different performance. How was that possible? What sorcery was at play here?
I lay awake at night going over the possibilities and always, I came back to the same conclusion. Something in those bits had to be different (a better conclusion than that the world was turning upside down).
One Saturday morning I left the house early and headed into work determined to discover what could be different. After hours on the bench armed with nothing more than my trusty capture scope to grab hold of those "identical" bits I began to notice something unusual.
I noted previously that I had been driven crazy by the remarkable performance improvements of a product that made no sense: a CD transport producing the bits feeding a DAC.
What in the world? Bits are bits. Every engineer and scientist willing to offer their opinion agreed. The beauty of digital is its ability to be endlessly copied without degradation – transported around the world over every means possible, from telephone modems, satellite relays, and underwater cables to a newfangled optical interface. Bits are bits. Get them right and without drop outs or confusion, and the only differences possible would be in the conversion process of producing analog.
Only, a new transport we had acquired was turning our world upside down. Those identical bits sounded remarkably different when played through the Jadis JD-1 transport than through any other medium we had.
And to make things even weirder, it didn't matter where we had obtained those bits. Commercial CDs as well as CD-R copies of those same CDs Arnie and I had ripped and then burned all sounded remarkably better.
In my investigation, armed with little more than a fancy capture scope, I narrowed it down to the only difference I could see. A difference that made zero sense whatsoever – in fact, so little sense that I continually rejected the observation as mere noise and clutter. Couldn't be.
That feeling you get when something you see on a 'scope that just doesn't add up. Courtesy of Pexels.com/cottonbro.
When you're faced with the impossible, and it is the only option available to you, it's a good idea to let down your guard and accept it as the best possibility. Run with it to see where it takes you.
The output digital signal from the Jadis had two major differences from any other digital output I could see: amplitude and shape. Instead of the industry-standard output level of 1.2 volts (or so), the Jadis output was a whopping 4 volts. On top of that, the output square wave shape was different: smooth and without any visible over or undershoot. It looked to me like a beautiful square wave that any analog or tube designer would be happy with if their analog circuit had output it.
But this was digital bits – bits that would never see an analog circuit – bits that were used only to trigger an input flip-flop on the DAC. This could not matter!
WTF? I had to know.
It didn't take more than a day or two on the breadboard to build a little op-amp circuit that would take in a standard output from a transport and amplify it up to the 4 volts to match the Jadis. This circuit got slapped onto the output of our previous CD reference transport and I pressed play. Wow.
Did it have the magic of the Jadis? Yes and no. I would give it an 80 percent. (Over the next few months, I experimented with the wave shape, using a softer JFET input stage op-amp to round off the corners of my larger output square wave, and this filled in the remaining 20 percent of the mystery for that transport.)
The output size and shape mattered. What came next was even more surprising.
I started to form an idea. What about making a separate piece of equipment that would function as a digital in and digital out? It would take the wildly variable (and cheesy) master clock signal from the CD, put it into an intelligent buffer (memory), and output it through a fixed high precision low-jitter clock into a completely separate output stage with its own power supply and wave-shaping circuit, to provide a 4-volt beautiful square wave, without any jitter.
Think of this like a large water tank feeding a city. The tank gets filled over days and, because it is a big buffer, it can output an absolutely perfect water stream of constant pressure to as many or as few people as need its water.
I presented my brainstorm product to Arnie Nudell, who got all excited and said, "In essence, we'll clean up the signal, get rid of any timing and jitter errors, and refocus that data into a perfect output."
"Exactly.” I said. Any idea what we could call it?"
Arnie, the nuclear physicist turned speaker designer said, "obviously, it'll have to be the Digital Lens. As in optics, it focuses a blurry image into a sharp image."
Bingo. We now had a concept, a path and a reason for the path, expected results, and a cool new name.
Heck, all we needed now was…something that worked.
The original Genesis Technologies Digital Lens.
To be continued…
Header image: Paul McGowan with the Infinity IRS V loudspeakers at PS Audio.
I have been extremely impressed with the reissues I’ve heard from Impex Records, including Patricia Barber’s Nightclub and more recently, Companion; the absolutely astonishing 1STEP Getz/Gilberto 45 RPM 2-LP release, and their 2020 reissue of Sing and Dance With Frank Sinatra. Now, Impex has reissued the Frank Sinatra title in their top-of-the-line 1STEP 45-RPM LP series.
Impex 1STEP vinyl, as the name implies, eliminates the usual three-step father/mother/stamper record pressing process in favor of a one-step method, where the lacquer disc off the cutting lathe is plated, and this plated disc is used as the stamper. The 1STEP process is aimed at creating a record that is closer to the sound of the original master tape.
The production of the Sing and Dance with Frank Sinatra 1STEP is deluxe in every respect. It’s all-analog, remastered from the original monophonic analog mixdown tapes by Chris Bellman and Andreas Meyer at Bernie Grundman Mastering and Swan Studios respectively. Since the records are cut at 45 RPM, it’s a 2-LP set, to accommodate the faster speed compared to standard 33 RPM. The discs are pressed on the company’s 180-gram VR900-Supreme vinyl. According to Impex, “the tapes and discs we mastered from have rarely been used, even by Columbia Records. This allowed us to deliver a sound that is closer to the original recording sessions than releases whose tapes have been heavily played (and audibly degraded).” Impex adds, “The…1STEP process requires short, tightly-controlled runs that necessitate the creation of a new lacquer after each 500 discs are pressed.”
Sing and Dance With Frank Sinatra, album cover.
Originally released in 1950 on Columbia Records, Sing and Dance With Frank Sinatra was his first big-band jazz album to appear on a long-playing record. The reissue includes the entire original Columbia 10-inch LP, the extra tracks included on IMPEX’s 33-RPM reissue, plus two new bonus tracks. The set also offers an extended recording of the session for “It All Depends on You” that includes Sinatra giving instructions to the musicians in order to adjust the sound and the arrangements. It’s a fascinating insight into just how astute Sinatra was as a singer and musician, and how much care he took into getting his recordings the way he wanted them to sound, from instructing the engineer to put a piece of carpet in the bass drum to asking the guitarist, bassist and reed players to move back slightly to get a better instrumental balance.
The packaging is sumptuous. A hard, textured slipcase contains the album, which features a remarkably detailed and authoritative 36-page booklet with liner notes by archivist and historian Charles L. Granata. As he notes, “while most people assume [Sinatra] didn’t flirt with the jazz idiom until the mid-1950s (when he began recording at Capitol with Nelson Riddle), this extended program offered the first full-fledged inkling that Sinatra could swing! As such, the album is a revelatory masterpiece documenting the singer’s growth…most of all, it resoundingly signals Frank Sinatra’s transition from sweet, romantic crooner to cool swinging sophisticate.”
The reissue was produced by Granata and Andreas Meyer, with Abey Fonn and Robert Bantz (executive producers) and Martin M. Melucci and Bob Donnelly (associate producers). The album was plated and pressed at Record Technology, Inc. by Dorin Sauerbier, Adam Webb, and Bryce Wilson. The booklet goes into extraordinary additional detail about how Sing and Dance With Frank Sinatra was originally recorded (and how the recording’s music and sound coincided with both Sinatra’s career arc and the then-new technological advancements of the time), and how it was remastered. Everything from discovering long-lost alternate takes to every piece of equipment in the remastering chain is documented.
So how does it sound? The short version…it’s superb.
But before I go into more detail: at AXPONA 2024 I attended a seminar given by Charles Granata and Abey Fonn about the history and production of both the original album and the 1STEP reissue. Charles has 30 years of experience at Sony supervising Sinatra’s music. Here are excerpts from his talk, combined with some of his comments in the reissue booklet:
Our reissue of the album marks the first time the original mono, analog tape master was used in 70 years! This album was an example of an early use of magnetic tape and 33-RPM “long playing” vinyl. It’s also one of the first major examples of vocal overdubbing on record – there was a session where he couldn’t sing because of a vocal hemorrhage.
In 1950 Sinatra’s career was declining. His record company, Capitol, was actually going to drop him. Then Mitch Miller at Columbia attempted to boost Sinatra’s career, and recorded Sing and Dance with Frank Sinatra, an uptempo album that straddles the line between pop and jazz.
A big part of Sinatra’s artistry is his enunciation. He was also meticulous about song selection. He understood that a recording of a song is forever. It’s been said that Sinatra was impatient and would do songs in one take. That’s total bullsh*t. On average, he would achieve a “master take” after five to seven attempts. But, there were times he’d do 30 or more takes and then say, “I’m not feeling it,” and come back to do it again another night.
He was his own producer. Just listen to his voice on “Lover”…wow! Few could emote in the recording studio more convincingly than Sinatra. He “played” the microphone (moving in close for emphasis when he went sotto voce, backing away for big finishes) like a violinist plays a Stradivarius. Listen to the recordings he did here with Harry James with a ribbon mic. Incredible.
The sound is revelatory, to use Granata’s word – I certainly can’t think of a better one. For those expecting a tinny-sounding, flat, “old-timey” recording, you’re going to be surprised at the clarity and the richness and presence of Sinatra’s voice. The “time machine” effect of being in the Man’s presence is downright spooky. The orchestra recedes into the background when he’s singing and swells to the forefront when playing instrumental passages…I don’t know how they did it. As Granata explains, “Much of this effect is the result of simple, clean (yet superb) recording procedures. Columbia’s highly-skilled engineers understood microphone selection and placement, used the studio and its sonic characteristics to their fullest capabilities, and deftly balanced not just the orchestra, but the vocal against the instrumental backgrounds.
Although the recording is monophonic, there’s a perceptible depth to it – it has a dimensionality that almost transcends a stereo soundstage. This quality is remarkable, given the relative simplicity of the tools available in the studio at that time. Sensitive and judicious use of compression, EQ and tape saturation all combined to produce this early (but quite appealing) high-fidelity sound – on both the tape and disc masters.” Don’t expect wideband sound with subterranean bass and far-reaching highs – but the sense of reality, of capturing the essence of the music as it happened – is very powerful.
The orchestra is less up-front compared to Sinatra’s voice, but this is not a broad-brush effect – at times, instruments leap to the forefront with body and tangibility, like the lead sax on “My Blue Heaven” and the very cool baritone sax intro to “You Do Something to Me” (and this song swings hard enough to break your back). Dig the bass and guitar locking in on songs like “American Beauty Rose.”
I’m a child of the 1960s (well, born in 1955 to be exact), so Sinatra to me was an old-timer, an uncool anti-rocker (though “Strangers in the Night” and “Something Stupid” with daughter Nancy were smash hits that everyone liked). So, I didn’t “get” all the fuss about how accomplished and emotive a vocalist he was until later in life.
Well, just listen to Sing and Dance With Frank Sinatra and you’ll get it. The way he phrases, sometimes behind and sometimes ahead of the beat; the way he emphasizes certain words and even syllables, and the incredible dynamic control of his voice are just fantastic here. The way he pronounces the word “love” right before the modulation in the alternate take of “Paper Moon” alone is mind blowing, worth the price of admission. And his riding along with the modulation on “Should I” can only be called masterful. Sinatra, along with the band, swings like there’s no tomorrow, which, considering the personal and professional circumstances he was in at the time, might have in fact been how he was feeling. The band is tight, and the way Sinatra locks in with the female background vocalists on the bonus track “Meet Me at the Copa” is simply breathtaking. This neatly dispels the notion that he was vocally “washed up” at the time.
Since this is a 1950 recording (excepting 1949’s “It All Depends on You” and some outtakes from 1949 and 1951), don’t expect pristine sound. There isn’t a “blacker than black” background on some of the all-analog tracks, and some of the additional material had to be de-noised and digitally processed. (The sonic consistency between the all-analog and the digitized tracks in the mastering is admirable – I don’t know if these old ears could distinguish between them in a blind test.) As the liner notes point out, there’s “barely-perceptible” high-end “distortion” that’s actually tape saturation. These were very early magnetic tape sessions, and the engineers sought to maximize every decibel they could squeeze onto the tape. And of course, this is a mono recording so there’s no stereo separation, though you do get a sense of depth, from the variations in volume between Sinatra and the various instruments, and from the subtle room reverb: as Granata notes, a perfect example of the wonders of Columbia’s massive 30th Street studio.
In fact, listening to this recording prompted me to write in my notes, “honestly, if stereo was never invented, it wouldn’t have been the saddest loss in the world.” (It also made me wonder what the album would sound like through a dedicated mono playback setup with a monophonic phono cartridge and single speaker.)
But as so many audiophiles and aficionados know, there’s more to the illusion of hearing depth than just spatial localization and the placement of instruments in the stereo (or multichannel) image, and on this recording I hear a most definite depth, and presence, and tangibility.
Ultimately, though, this Impex reissue of Sing And Dance With Frank Sinatra, as gratifying as it is, transcends technical and sonic considerations. I doubt that you’ll be thinking about any of that as you bask in the incredible, dazzling, swinging music, the music of an artist at an emotional and interpretive height. In a word, fantastic.
Imagine, if you will, a person living alone in a claustrophobic flat with an audio system which never stops playing, a volume control which doesn’t attenuate sound, and a “pause” control which won’t interrupt the tape. It plays no music, only chatter, on-and-on, incessantly, day and night – indifferent to the wishes or needs of its owner.
What I’ve just described is a phenomenon known as negative self-talk – the internal tape which seems to play ceaselessly in our heads 24 hours a day. It keeps us from falling asleep, staying asleep, and in the morning, wakes us too early. When we are not sleeping, it agitates our insecurities and anxieties – often to the point where it disrupts our work, play, and relationships.
Self-talk is largely programmed during our adolescent years by our parents. It becomes so ingrained into the personality that we come to believe it’s who we really are.
Those lucky enough to receive positive reinforcement during their formative years end up with positive self-talk, so they hit the playing field wearing all the right gear.
Those with the kind of programming I received hit the playing field naked and scared. That’s because we were clothed with: “Who do you think you are? Don't be ridiculous. You're not funny. You’re not good enough. What do you want, a medal? What were you thinking? You don’t deserve that. You’ll never amount to anything. You’re an embarrassment.”
Why do children put up with this kind of abuse? Because without parental support, they can’t survive. So, they are caught between being “good kids” – the role they play to insure survival – and being their authentic selves: rambunctious, curious, spontaneous, forthright, frustrated, angry and so on.
This dichotomy creates internal tension which leads to stress, explosive behavior, drug abuse, and disease. It’s why so many teenagers become rebellious, withdrawn, depressed, or evasive, even though they may not know why. These kids have spent so long being a reflection of someone else’s desires, they don’t know who they are anymore.
I became evasive. At 17, I left home to work in another town to make enough money to start college. A year later, when I got comfortable on campus, I also got comfortable in the drug scene.
One evening during an acid trip, I made an astounding discovery. My self-talk voice is not me. It emanates from me, but it's not part of my personality. It just wasn’t in me to degrade anyone else the way this voice degraded me. I decided that if “God is Love,” this voice must be Satan.
You’d think that realization would enable me to stop the negative self-talk, but it didn’t. I’d still wake up with this tape playing in my head, over and over again. Whenever I was in a social situation where I felt insecure, it sabotaged my behavior.
The student in the apartment next to mine had a poster on his wall which read, “The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking. – Albert Einstein”
He told me that self-talk stems from the subconscious mind, which is largely a memory bank. If I wanted to change my world, I’d have to change the tape.
After some study, I learned that there are different ways to do this. I did it through simple repetition – in the same way one learns to ride a bicycle, hit a baseball, or play chess.
Anytime negative self-talk, like my stepfather’s excoriations, drifted across my mind, I'd rebuke it like a misbehaving dog, “NO! Enough! Stop it!,” or like an Old Testament prophet, “Get thee behind me Satan!”.
With time, I discovered that if the negative self-talk isn't indulged by the conscious mind, it will eventually atrophy so long as it's replaced immediately with positive self-talk: “I’m more than worthy; of course I deserve a medal; I really am funny; everybody loves me.”
Positive reinforcement will take root only so long as it is expressed in the first person, present tense, and includes no negatives. For example, “I am a winner” as opposed to “Montana will no longer be a loser.”
Although this new program felt foreign initially, with unwavering, consistent repetition, Satan was eventually displaced by the angel on my other shoulder.
On those occasions when real-world experience failed to validate the positive reinforcement, I chalked it up to an aberration and assumed a “fake it till you make it” attitude.
Some of the people close to me didn't appreciate the change because all we had in common was the shared experience of a negative self-image. Some even scoffed at my efforts and attempted to keep me in their camp.
“Those who appreciate what you are trying to do are your real friends,” I was told, “Those who would discourage you must go. All change comes at a cost.”
How strong are the negative tapes instilled through childhood trauma? 58 years after leaving home, they still pop up occasionally and I still have to reprogram them with positive affirmations. This is done most effectively during the mind’s Theta state – as I drift off to sleep or when I wake.
I know several folks my age whose behavior continues to be controlled by negative self-talk. For decades, they obscured it through the distractions of family and careers, but now that they are retired, their damaged self-image has re-emerged. It makes them feel inadequate and handicaps the enjoyment of their golden years.
Some have drifted into a self-destruct mode by means of alcohol, drugs, food, computer games, cell phones, gambling, or other addictions. It's the only time their negative self-talk abates and they feel good about themselves, so to them, addiction is a logical response to suffering…even if the price is self-destruction (then Satan wins).
When they sicken of this counterproductive behavior, I remind them of a quote by Mahatma Gandhi:
“The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.”
Octave Records has released Audiophile Masters, Volume XI: Covers Collection 2, featuring more cover versions of popular favorites and standards by some of Octave’s favorite artists. This companion to the first Octave Records covers collection includes songs written and made famous by Bob Dylan, Duke Ellington, the Beatles, Ella Fitzgerald, Chet Baker, Joni Mitchell and others, recorded in stunning Pure DSD 256 audio quality.
“When Octave and PS Audio CEO Paul McGowan and I created the first Audiophile Masters X Covers Collection, we had no idea it would be so well-received,” said Jessica Carson, producer, recording, and mixing engineer. “I'm excited about the music onAudiophile Masters XI, and equally excited about the recording quality. This album is one of the most natural-sounding recordings to come out of Octave Studios.
On Audiophile Masters, Volume XI: Covers Collection 2, the musical flavors range from jazz and swing to Sixties and Seventies songwriting. Like the first volume in the series, the sound quality is warm, intimate, and spacious, thanks to Octave Records’ Pure DSD 256 recording process and the Gefell M90 and Neumann U67 microphones used in the studio, and the use of mostly acoustic instruments. Audiophile Masters, Volume XI: Covers Collection 2 was recorded using Octave’s Pyramix-based Pure DSD 256 system. It was recorded, mixed and produced by Paul McGowan and Jessica Carson, with Terri McGowan assisting. The album was mastered by Gus Skinas.
The album gets off to a rip-roaring start with Duke Ellington’s “It Don’t Mean a Thing,” and this track certainly has that swing, with Alicia Straka on vocals, accompanied by Tom Amend on piano, Braxton Kahn playing drums, and Seth Lewis on upright bass. The band absolutely blazes here, and then eases into a relaxed groove on an impassioned rendition of “Cheek to Cheek.”
Alicia Straka.
Next up is alto saxophonist and vocalist Jeremy Mohney, with Reid Poole (trumpet), Matt Cantor (guitar), Conner Hollingsworth (bass) and Chris Carland on drums. The quintet plays a set of standards made popular by Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Chet Baker, and Django Reinhardt, among others. Jeremy and the band sound like they’ve taken a trip back in time, from their four-to-the-bar rhythm guitar-driven swing of “All of Me” and “Sweet Georgia Brown” to the bouncy “Never Be Another You” and “I’ll See You in My Dreams.” Jeremy’s vocals sound like they come out of a 1930s Hollywood movie, and the band is right there with him, with tight ensemble playing and evocative soloing.
The musical mood and era shift with an Americana-sounding take on Joni Mitchell’s “Woodstock,” featuring Rebecca Folsom on vocals and acoustic guitar, with Tom Wasinger on vocals and acoustic guitar and Sandra Wong on vocals and violin. The soaring three-part vocal harmonies are simply gorgeous, and beautifully recorded.
Rebecca Folsom.
The third section of Audiophile Masters, Volume XI: Covers 2 features three songs with Katie Mintle on vocals, Chad Irish on percussion and Brian Chodoroff playing guitar, joined by Jessica Carson on one of the Beatles’ most beloved songs, “Blackbird.” Bob Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice” is given a quiet, introspective treatment, with Katie’s vocals accompanied by sparse acoustic guitars. The album closes with another Joni Mitchell song, “Case of You,” the perfect ending to this collection of inviting songs, recorded with extraordinary sound quality and musical realism.
Audiophile Masters, Volume XI: Covers 2 features Octave’s premium gold disc formulation, and the disc is playable on any SACD, CD, DVD, or Blu-ray player. It also has a high-resolution DSD layer that is accessible by using any SACD player or a PS Audio SACD transport. In addition, the master DSD and PCM files are available for purchase and download, including DSD 256, DSD 128, DSD 64, and DSDDirect Mastered 352.8 kHz/24-bit, 176.2 kHz/24-bit, 88.2 kHz/24-bit, and 44.1 kHz/24-bit PCM. (SRP: $19 – $39, depending on format.)
The rock/electronic/jam/multi-genre band Lotus has effectively created the musical term, “jamtronica.” Across a 25-year career they have mixed synthesizers and other instruments with elements of house music in ways that have transcended the world of “jam bands.” They’ve just released their 11th studio album, How to Dream in Color, and if you haven’t yet been stung by their infectious form of funky electronic vibes, it just might happen in this powerful collection of songs.
This is the band’s first studio record since the tragic passing of their longtime percussionist, Chuck Morris in a kayaking accident. It’s the beginning of a new chapter for them, as well as an exceptional musical celebration of Chuck’s life, friendship, and creative contributions.
Lotus adapted their recording process to honor his memory while embracing new creative directions. The band gravitated toward a layered drum sound to maintain the rhythmic complexity that Morris contributed to their music. This collage-based approach allowed them to create even more intricate and diverse soundscapes.
Lotus, How to Dream in Color, album cover.
I dug deeper into their music by spinning their limited-edition 2-LP translucent vinyl release, and while the packaging probably had nothing to do with the album’s fidelity, it didn’t hurt. Here, the packaging never over-sells the content, but instead enjoys equal footing in excellence.
The album’s singles, "Watching the Distant Storm" and "How Do I Come Down" have already garnered significant attention. "Watching the Distant Storm" has surpassed 30,000 streams on Spotify, while "How Do I Come Down" has achieved over 56,000. Both tracks have been featured on Spotify's "Modern Jam Band" playlist and Apple Music's "New In Rock" playlist.
How to Dream in Color spans 12 tracks, blending instrumental prowess with occasional vocal contributions from longtime collaborator Gabe Otto. The title of the album was inspired by the dreamlike quality of the music and the idea of evoking a sense of limitless possibilities. This theme of boundless creativity is evident throughout the album, inviting listeners to explore the vibrant and expansive realms of Lotus' musical vision.
Leading off the album, the single "How Do I Come Down" stands out as a rock-driven track, highlighted by Tim Palmieri's scorching guitar parts. This song captures the energetic and improvisational spirit of Lotus' live performances, blending rock elements seamlessly with their signature electronic sound. Describing the creation of “How Do I Come Down,” Luke Miller (guitar, keys) shared, “This track is a manifesto for the entire album – a dream scenario where anything is possible yet flows like water.”
Bassist Jesse Miller added, “The tonality moves between major and minor keys, akin to driving through a mountain highway, transitioning between light, dark, and the exhilarating unknown. We have done records in the past where it's old school with the whole band in the studio, playing each track live and capturing everyone playing. But with this record our initial idea was to make these little ‘cells’ and build from there. So, without Chuck we decided not to do the live studio thing and it ended up being more collage-based. That informed things even more than the writing process.”
"Watching the Distant Storm," the second single, captures the essence of Lotus' signature sound while pushing the boundaries of their musical exploration. This track melds lush synth textures with intricate guitar melodies, creating a soundscape that is both expansive and intimate. The song's dynamic progression evokes a sense of journey and anticipation, perfectly encapsulating the album's dream-like theme. With its driving rhythms and evocative harmonies, Watching the Distant Storm has quickly resonated with fans and new listeners alike.
What really sets this record apart are Tim Palmieri’s guitar parts. They take what at times might come across as just a sophisticated approach to house music, and add rock elements that draw the listener in and holds them tight. The tone of his guitar is remarkably close to Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour, and the band wisely places his contributions right in the middle of the mix. It’s as though they are considered equals to the synths, and the balance that results makes you lean in a bit more to really appreciate Palmieri’s technique and tone. His contributions transform the entire record.
Lotus’ How to Dream in Color tour runs through October, including stops at the Rock the Dock event in Lake George, New York, the Secret Dreams Festival in Thornville, Ohio, and their annual flagship Summerdance Music Festival in Garrettsville, OH.
How To Dream In Color Fall Tour Dates
October 2 – Paradise Rock Club, Boston, MA October 3 – Toad's Place, New Haven, CT October 4 – State Theatre, Portland, ME October 5 – Higher Ground, Burlington, VT October 9 – Jefferson Theater, Charlottesville, VA October 10 – Salvage Station, Asheville, NC October 11 – Music Farm, Charleston, SC October 12 – Vinyl Music Hall, Pensacola, FL October 13 – Tipitina's Uptown, New Orleans, LA October 16 – Mars Music Hall, Huntsville, AL October 17 – Neighborhood Theatre, Charlotte, NC October 18 – Lincoln Theatre, Raleigh, NC October 19 – The Recher, Towson, MD October 24 – Washington's, Fort Collins, CO October 25 - 26 – Summit Music Hall, Denver, CO
Copper has an exchange program withFIDELITY magazine of Germany (and other publications), where we share articles, including this one.
The Kissa craze has reached New York – even though in the Big Apple, it is being interpreted a bit differently.
You can’t help but get the impression that the world’s bars have been hit by a Kissa virus. More and more often you come across clubs in European and North American cities that profess to have a certain connection to the legendary Japanese jazz and high-end bars, even if they call themselves a “listening bar” or “audio club.” To separate the wheat from the chaff here, it helps to take a close look at the musical and technical seriousness of the respective concept. Quite often, the audiophile ingredients are just fashionable accessories, pure visual bling to attract a nerdy and affluent lifestyle audience with the cool retro looks of huge horn loudspeakers, tube amplifiers and turntables, without the devices really being used in a musically and technically adequate way. One notable exception to the Kissa hype is Eavesdrop in Greenpoint, on the northwestern tip of Brooklyn.
Here, in the old Polish working-class district of New York, which, in contrast to the directly adjacent hipster district of Williamsburg, has retained its rough charm, Dan Wissinger and Max Dowaliby mustered all their entrepreneurial courage during the coronavirus pandemic and opened their very special listening bar. “The time around 2021 was favorable [for us]. Many stores were forced to close down during the lockdown, and vacant stores couldn’t find new tenants, so we were full of optimism and moved into a former Polish dance hall,” explains Dan Wissinger during our visit.
As in so many New York bars, you first enter a tube-shaped front room with an elongated bar counter that opens up to an almost perfect square at the back. Although it is only 5:15 p.m. when we arrive for our date, almost every seat at the bar is taken, and even in front of the impressive sound wall at the back of the room, everything is full except for our reserved table. “We have deliberately divided our bar into two parts,” says Dan Wissinger, explaining the Eavesdrop policy. At the front of the bar, you can just casually pop in for a beer or a drink, whereas at the back, you’re required to book in advance. “Even though a custom-made system consisting of two 12-inch coaxial loudspeakers, two 10-inch subwoofers and a Leak amplifier provides wonderful sound at the bar, the real audio experience takes place in the back room. To make sure our guests can enjoy it, we don’t want people standing or walking around, which is why we decided to insist on reservations in two time slots.”
The concept makes perfect sense, as it drives home the point that the huge sound system is not just a trendy accessory, but in fact intended for conscious acoustic enjoyment. But why the two time slots at 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. and open-ended from 8 p.m.? Starting at 8 p.m., well-known guest DJs usually play here, whom, depending on their music preferences, guests visit specifically to listen to their program in a relaxed atmosphere. The music selection is less jazz-oriented than in a classic Kissa bar, with soul, Motown, funk, fusion and newer varieties of black music flooding the Eavesdrop. Before eight o’clock in the evening, however, the bartenders are responsible for the music program, and small after-work groups, couples on a date, or curious tourists like us gather in front of the sound wall.
After having Dan Wissinger explain the concept of the bar, we talk about the social and cultural changes in Greenpoint and Williamsburg over a sip of Transmitter, a craft beer from Brooklyn that goes down very smoothly. He notices how my eyes wander curiously back and forth along the sound wall and I finally get up to examine the individual components more closely. “A real nerd, I see,” he laughs and explains the technical nitty-gritty in more detail: “The main speakers are two Danley SH60s. Danley Sound Labs is an American company that makes high-end PA speakers.
“Using these in a hi-fi system is a bit unusual, but it works great for us.” They have seven drivers each arranged around the horn, which Danley calls the “synergy horn.” Underneath each is a pair of subwoofers – Seaton Sound Submersive S2s with a total of four 15-inch drivers. The whole thing is driven by a pair of Bryston SST amplifiers. Of course, the obligatory Technics turntables – two SL1210s – are located in the center of the system, although Eavesdrop remains relaxed when it comes to the vinyl hype: “We take a very pragmatic view of this and leave it up to the guest DJ to decide whether they want to use the two 1210s or their own digital source device.” This pragmatic approach also means that the bartenders control the playlist during the “early shift” between 5 p.m. and 8 p.m. and naturally do this from the bar via an app. The bar crew particularly appreciate the ability to react swiftly via the digital control system, which allows them to quickly adjust the volume and sound design to the needs of the crowd or music style.
Nevertheless, Dan Wissinger is very proud that the majority of the small but excellent vinyl collection on site comes from his private treasure chest. He is particularly fond of the Philadelphia sound, and with palpable enthusiasm he puts some rarities on the Technics turntable and lets the Bryston power amplifiers flex their muscles a little more than is usually the case at half past five in the evening at the Eavesdrop. We lean back, sip our beers and enjoy groovy Philly beats garnished with lush strings. The sound system strikes the perfect balance between a carefully designed high-end system from the living room at home and a high-quality PA. The horns and subwoofers are – if necessary – capable of providing the rear of the club with a good amount of sound pressure, but the frequency response is still more akin to a high-end system. We are fascinated to note that, despite the dynamic eruptions, conversations are still possible with no particular effort, even when sitting directly in front of the sound wall. In response to my astonished observation, Dan explains that this was also the original idea behind the club. A large part of the installation work had gone into the coordination between musical presence on the one hand and the communication needs of the guests on the other.
But when designing Eavesdrop, the two friends wanted more than just a great sound system. It was clear to them from the outset that their bar could only become a special place if acoustics, visuals, sound, and atmosphere went hand in hand: “The bar is a carefully-considered combination of several aspects, which was meticulously put together and perfectly coordinated by our designer Danny Taylor from House Under Magic. To be honest, the most important component in the house is the acoustic treatment. We have absorption and diffusion systems throughout, which Danny Taylor has integrated into the overall aesthetic so that they have their own visual style and there’s no need to hide them. This is why it is not all that important to talk point out what pickups we use and how the horns function. Many visitors do want to talk about the sound system, but the truth is that in a bar, the acoustic treatment of the room is just as important as the equipment used, if not more.” A sound concept in my book. Rarely have I spent hours in a bar where design, atmosphere, music and the quality of the drinks and finger food go so perfectly hand in hand.
And so we end the evening with another drink and some special homemade Brooklyn tapas, such as the white beans with garlic and chips or the walnut gnocchi, which our hosts particularly recommend. And we are delighted to see how the Kissa concept can be interpreted in a modern way without losing its authentic soul. Well done, Dan and Max!
Eavesdrop 674 Manhattan Avenue Brooklyn, New York 11222 www.eavesdrop.nyc
The White Stripes were either the last great rock band of the 20th century or the first great band of the 21st. Perhaps both. I didn't have much access to new music when the White Stripes broke through in the early 2000s. The self-titled debut album was released close to the millennial cusp, in mid-1999, and breakthrough DeStijl, named after an early 20th century Dutch art and architecture movement, came out in 2000. But I heard about the buzz, and I wanted to hear them, especially as they were the hot new thing out of Detroit. I had dedicated my allegiance since Mitch Ryder & the Detroit Wheels, which added heavy guitars and raw emotion to the polished but essential sound of Motown. Levi Stubbs and the Detroit Wheels: Wouldn't that have been something? How about Norman Whitfield producing the White Stripes?
There was a new app by which many people were getting free music. It was called Napster, and one could download almost anything. The labels were calling it piracy until they could find a way to get in on the action. I thought there was something morally compromising about using Napster: it was also illegal, and the labels were actually prosecuting users. So I justified: I used LimeWire, an app much like Napster, but which I thought a little more under the radar. The first, actually the primary music, that I downloaded from LimeWire, was the White Stripes.
Like kids today, I didn't know what album each song was being downloaded from, but the LimeWire list on my iPod showed selections from DeStijl, White Blood Cells, and Elephant. I also knew that White Stripes were a duo of Jack White and Meg White, that they color coordinated in red, black, and white (basic colors of the DeStijl art movement but not the only ones), and that they were either married or brother and sister. I didn't care: I considered it part of the start of viral marketing, giving the band controversy and an air of mystery. What I cared about were the killer riffs, that came at the listener like sharks approaching beachgoers in Jaws.
She played drums; he played guitar and most everything else, especially on these bass-heavy early records. Or it sounds like bass, since the duo didn't use a bass or bass player. I understand that the multitasking Jack White used an octave pedal for that White Stripes thump. The strange aspect of the very heavy new White solo album, No Name, is the absence of bass, yet one doesn't really miss it that much. Maybe a little bit, but I didn't notice the absence until the third full spin. Then I found out there is bass. Please continue reading.
Back to the White Stripes: A bunch of these songs--riffs perfected and extended, really--White Stripes knocked out of the park: "The Hardest Button to Button," "Girl You Have No Faith in Medicine," "I Think I Smell a Rat." Another one, their most famous riff, is "Seven Nation Army," which in fact stayed in park, into the fan repertory of every arena, every stadium, every college marching band, every NFL game: The UK soccer chant perfected for American football.
A little more than 20 years later, Jack White is a one-man army, under the brand Third Man. Based in Nashville, it is a recording studio, record label, production company, merchandise manufacturer. Neil Young has recorded ultra-low-fi songs in White's 1947 Voice-o-Graph booth at Third Man, the kind of thing us boomers might record in a booth in Times Square, or Elvis Presley might have used to record a song for his mother as an audition for Sun Records.
Third Man makes and sells recording hardware and pedals for working guitar players (Third Man Hardware x Coppersound Triplegraph Pedal, $399.00). It publishes books and Maggot Brain magazine, vinyl recordings, clothes and merch, and has retail Third Man Records stores in Detroit, Nashville, and London, where vinyl pressings of No Namewere given out on July 19; streaming services such as Spotify, to which my listening was limited, got it on August 2. It does not sell DVDs (as far as I am aware) of The Third Man, the great 1949 Cold War spy thriller directed by Carol Reed, written by Graham Greene, and featuring Joseph Cotten and Orson Welles. But they might!
What strikes me as most essential to White's empire was his teenage apprenticeship as an upholsterer: he could build new stuff, sure, but he was really good at making old stuff seem new; worn stuff look fresh; furniture that has seen better days look and feel comfy again.
This is an excellent talent for the rock guitarist who is not reinventing the world every time he picks up his tool, but making improvements, sometimes cosmetic, sometimes unnoticed, always placing ease and comfort first. As the intentionally generic title No Name indicates, and its blank covers depending on the format, the wheel is not reinvented, but the rock is solid enough you could strike a damp match on it and make some fire.
As I said, it is a heavy guitar record, so much so that it should bear an umlaut: Nö Näme, the international signifier for metal. Did you know that the English word "umlaut" does not require an umlaut? Yet it never loses sight of White's blues-rootedness on tracks like "It's Rough on Rats (If You're Asking)" and "Tonight (Was a Long Time Ago)." The former lands like a good outtake from Cream'sDisraeli Gears. The latter, a track from the unrecorded Led Zeppelin XIII.The opening track, "Old Scratch Blues," reminds me of "Communication Breakdown" from Led Zep's 1969 debut album, rewired for the future.
Jack White, No Name, album cover.
Classic rock references continue with "Missionary," which is both about spreading a spiritual message and the sexual position, to the riff from "I Can't Explain" by the Who. By the way, though White does much of the work, he does have a band or side players here, including bass on various tracks. My dog-eared ears don't hear much bass on the Spotify version, yet I don't miss the deeper bottom often.
"Bombing Out" sounds like what the title says, but there are feelings beneath the blitz. It's a song about bombing out with a girl, you know, he keeps calling but she won't answer her phone. One hears it and does not thing of a cell phone; I picture a landline. "What's the Rumpus?" again telegraphs its intentions--but the singer is starting to become concerned about the longevity of his audio equipment: "It won't be long before my stereo breaks 100,000 plays/I'll bring Sansui back from the dead." I don't doubt that Jack White, the upholsterer, keeps his unit in fine working condition.
The most interesting song to me is "Archbishop Harold Holmes." The lyrics, recited with the cadence of a rap-aware prosperity preacher, sound taken from a flier one might find on the street, or placed in your hand on the subway. It's in the form of a letter from the Archbishop himself:
"Dear Friend: If you want to feel better Don't let the devil make you toss this letter If you've been crossed up by hoodoo voodoo The wizard or the lizard You got family trouble? Man trouble? Woman trouble? No light through the rubble?"
Which leads me to one of the strange corners of the internet, particularly the Jack White/Reddit page. Some scholar there believes that this song about Harold Holmes is inspired by Harold Hill from the classic musical The Music Man. He hears "76 Trombones" in the song. I don't think it's really a thing. I am open to all reasonable theories, but this is not one of them.
As a postscript, I was listening to this record on Spotify. When it ended, the algorithm kicked in, and a relatively tepid song by the Black Keys came on. Then August 9, The New York Times crossword puzzle offered this clue: "The White Stripes or Black Keys, e.g." I tried all sorts of permutation of "rockblues" or "rockduos" or "bluesrock bands" but none of them fit. It was embarrassing, so I looked up the answer. It was "Indiebands." I thought about it, and decided that it crossed the border from oblique to phishing to just plain wrong, as both acts have recorded for major labels, have been around for many years in the rock mainstream, and headline (or headlined) arenas and festivals. They are not indie bands. One more reason to shout at the increasingly erratic Times: "I don't believe you."
Header image of Jack White courtesy of Big Hassle Media/David James Swanson.
I’ll get right to the heart of it: this is one of the most gorgeous records I’ve ever heard, musically and sonically.
It’s aptly titled: the music of Sweet Caress by Franco Ambrosetti and Strings is sublime, reminding me of the great 1950s and 1960s soundtracks by Henry Mancini and others. And the sound, whether heard in stereo or immersive audio, is ravishing.
Sweet Caress (Enja 9852) can be seen as flugelhornist Ambrosetti’s follow up to Nora, his previous collaboration with pianist/arranger Alan Broadbent, as both feature Broadbent’s string arrangements. The music is luxuriant, and for this listener, captivating. The album mostly features originals by Ambrosetti, along with covers of jazz standards like “Soul Eyes,” “Portrait of Jennie,” and others. Ambrosetti is accompanied by musicians of remarkable caliber, including Broadbent, John Scofield on guitar, Scott Colley (bass), Peter Erskine on drums, and Sara Caswell (violin, concertmaster).
Franco Ambrosetti and Strings, Sweet Caress, album cover.
The album was recorded at Sear Sound in 7.1.4 at 192 kHz/24-bit by Jim Anderson, with assistance from Steven Sacco. It was mixed for stereo by Anderson with assistance from Ulrike Schwarz at Studio L at Anderson Audio New York. The 7.1.4 mix was done at Skywalker Sound in Marin County, CA, with Dann Thompson helping. The stereo was mastered by Greg Calbi of Sterling Sound, and the immersive audio mastering and authoring was done by Morten Lindberg at 2L studios in Norway.
I listened to the stereo mix on my home audio systems, based around PS Audio aspen FR10 and Audience ClairAudient 1+1 V5 loudspeakers, and in immersive audio at the James Anderson Critical Listening Room at the Clive Davis Institute of Recorded Music in New York. My systems are really, really good. The Clive Davis system was simply extraordinary, utterly mind-boggling and easily one of the best audio systems I’ve ever heard. That system included PMC IB2-XPD AII loudspeakers, and PMC wafer 1 and wafer 2 in-wall/in/ceiling speakers for the surround and height-channels. The playback was via a ProTools HDX system.
In all three systems, the tonality sounded excellent to me, and unequivocally so on the superlative Clive Davis setup. Using the standard audiophile cliché descriptions like “deep, authoritative bass,” and “musical midrange,” and “airy highs with no trace of grain or stridency” simply does a gratuitous disservice to the absolute rightness of the sound. (Though they’re all true.) Sweet Caress is one of the most beautifully-recorded albums I’ve ever heard. The soundfield in stereo is wide and spacious, and in immersive audio, it’s breathtaking, not in an exaggerated way, but in the sense of really feeling like you’re there in the room with the players.
The sound of a fluegelhorn is distinctively warmer and richer than a trumpet, and Ambrosetti’s playing is wonderfully captured, front and center. John Scofield has a clean, straight-ahead guitar sound, yet not the “jazz plonk” that so many jazz players use – his tone has an upper-midrange clarity that lets us hear every nuance of his touch, including some very subtle vibrato. As Scofield told Copper’s John Seetoo, the core band recorded their parts first, with the orchestra overdubbed later, so the musicians had to leave space and anticipate where the orchestration would fill in. Yet the arrangements and soloing all fit impeccably with the band and with Ambrosetti, to create a beautiful sound. As he says in the liner notes, “The dream continues – another record with strings. Why? Because the sound of strings, woodwinds and brass, together, surround you completely. Like a caress, the waves of music go into your soul, leading you to a different attitude, influencing what you play.”
Franco Ambrosetti at a recording session. Courtesy of John Abbott.
Broadbent’s piano is a mellower-sounding instrument that fits perfectly with the rest of the band and the orchestra, both sonically and in the way it ties the orchestra and the core band together. The music is melodic, yet it doesn’t shy away from some extremely sophisticated harmonic voicings and tonal colorations. The music simply unfolds.
I suppose I should point out a few particulars of the sonic delights of Sweet Caress. The fast ensemble string playing at the beginning of “Portrait of Jennie” is subtle, but crucial to setting up the mood of the song, and might be lost on a lower-resolution system. When the woodwinds come in, it’s just sublime. Scott Colley’s bass has a tangible sense of body and complexity. Years ago, the late Art Dudley once said that playing tracks with acoustic bass should be outlawed at audio shows, since it was the easiest instrument to use in a demo to make speakers sound “impressive.” I think he’d make an exception for this record – the stand-up bass is so realistically conveyed that I’m sure it would put a smile on his face.
The subtle reverb/room sound is just right. I don’t know if this is the actual room sound, or an effect. I don’t care. The instrumental balances are also really just right.
Musicians at the recording session for Sweet Caress. Courtesy of Jim Anderson.
Interestingly, Ambrosetti doesn’t play on the title track; Sara Caswell takes the lead on violin, and she just soars. I should note that if you’re looking for flashy playing, look elsewhere, though the music on Sweet Caress is far from easy to play. This music plays at the pace at which it wants to be heard, yet dazzles as much as Scofield’s fusion work with later-period Miles Davis, or Heifetz’s virtuosity, or the harmonic beauty of Bill Evans. (In fact, I think Evans would have loved this album.)
When Ambrosetti plays with a mute, it’s a very different sound than a muted trumpet – fuller, deeper, with less “quack,” if you will. It’s a more pleasing sound to my ears. At the beginning of “Old Friends,” the woodwinds are deep. I hear a bass clarinet in there, one of the coolest instruments invented by Man if you ask me, and its rich sonority, though in the background, is unmistakable. Throughout the album, Peter Erskine serves more as a percussive colorist than your typical “swinging” jazz drummer. Sometimes you might not realize he’s there unless you listen carefully, but the music wouldn’t be the same without his presence. The entire album has subtle dynamic shadings, but you can really hear the music “breathe” on “Colors of the Wind.”
Though it has a “style,” the timeless quality of Sweet Caress ultimately goes beyond genres to become transcendent. This is music making at its purest and finest, presented in magnificent sound.
Header image of Franco Ambrosetti courtesy of Henry Schulz.
Americana band Fruition has just released their first album in four years, and How To Make Mistakes is a departure from what fans might have come to expect from this Portland, Oregon-based quintet. Across 15 years and numerous studio and live records, Fruition has been closely tied to the jamgrass world. This new record aligns their musical direction more closely to alternative/country/rock bands like the Jayhawks. In common with that influential Gary Louris-led Minneapolis co-ed quartet, on the new album Fruition blends traditional folk/rock with spacey melodies and signature vocal harmonies.
With the new record, Fruition (Jay Cobb Anderson, vocals, guitar, harmonica; Kellen Asebroek, vocals, guitar, piano; Mimi Naja, vocals, guitar, piano, mandolin; Jeff Leonard – bass; and Tyler Thompson, drums) chose to take a new approach to the recording process. Fruition self-produced the album and, for the first time, recorded all of the tracks live in the studio. The result is a collection that embraces the in-the-moment connection and feel of a working band, and songs that exude the love, growth, longing, and life experiences during their 15 years together and in their personal lives.
This is one of the most accomplished albums of its kind to be released this year, with writing and performances that are mature, smart, and perfectly performed. Perhaps the most impressive part of this offering is the collective economy and restraint in moments where others might be tempted to drop the sonic hammer. There’s a good amount here that will remind listeners of late-stage outings from the Band, where the songs moved from sounds that have come to be considered “Americana” toward productions that are more personal and upfront.
Fruition, How to Make Mistakes, album cover.
Copper caught up with Fruition member Jay Cobb Anderson and we talked about how the pandemic led the band to a sense of self-discovery and rebirth, and how this record ushered in a new recording approach, often for songs they’d kept in their back pockets for years. Everything from the music to the marketing of How to Make Mistakes has the band excited about the path forward.
Ray Chelstowski: You self-produced this album and recorded it live. With multiple songwriters in the group was it difficult to remain democratic in your decision-making?
Jay Cobb Anderson: We have self-produced records in the past. The record we put out before this one which we released in two [parts], was self-produced. One is called Wild As the Night, the other is called Broken At TheBreak Of Day. Labor of Love was [self-produced] as well. So, we are no stranger to self-production and we just wanted to get back to that. In terms of this being a “live” record, it was a breath of fresh air to do what we’re good at. We’ve always been a live band and we all love using the studio as an instrument. This one was probably the easiest to self-produce because we agreed to just do it live. We’ve been a band long enough that we listen to each other and are open to considering many different ideas. It’s pretty natural to us.
RC: You recorded at The Studio at eTown Hall in Boulder, Colorado. Had you used that room before?
JCA: We’d never recorded there before. The eTown studio there is connected to the building where they do the eTown radio [show], which we have done before. It’s such a great radio program. Nick Forster runs that and is a legendary musician in his own right in the bluegrass world. He’s a multi-instrumentalist, lives right down the road, and has virtually any instrument you could ever ask for. At one point I was asking him for random things and he had them. I never stumped him. The studio itself was exactly what we were looking for to be able to record together live. It also came with a crazy affordable price, so with the relationship we already had with Nick it became a no-brainer.
RC: This record has a decidedly different sound than anything you’ve done before. How did you decide on this new approach?
JCA: After we finally got back together after the pandemic, and not having seen each other in about a year, when we got together and started playing we saw that the magic was still there. It was almost like a rebirth. We’re older now and more mature. It’s now about making the art; that’s the only focus. At eTown we had a list of 17 songs, and some of the songs that made the record were actually written like 10 years ago. They just didn’t fit on any of the other Fruition records, but we’d always held on to them. We had seven days and we wanted to see if we could just get through all of them. It was a lofty goal and that’s why doing it all live without a lot of overdubs allowed us to hit all of the songs. When we looked at them all and how they would be pieced together, we found 13 that would have just a natural flow. You can tinker with a track list for a long time. But this one kind of naturally found its way more quickly that it had with past records, and we ended up loving the way it flowed.
Fruition. Courtesy of Kaja Sigvalda.
RC: Recording in studios is becoming rarer, and we are seeing many famous rooms close for good.
JCA: The thing about those big, beautiful studios closing down is that, in my mind, that’s where people have made the best art. But it does cost money to run them and the whole “DIY approach” [to recording] has taken the studio and thrown it out of the window. Most of my musician friends don’t have big label deals and there’s not as much money [to be made] with things like Spotify, so it’s harder to afford those studios. We actually almost did this record as Muscle Shoals because they have these programs tied to grants from the State to help bands afford it. So, we were very close to doing things there.
RC: When you go to your Apple Music page, the other acts they liken you to are bluegrass jam bands like Leftover Salmon. Has that pigeonholing hurt peoples’ potential to discover what you are really all about?
JCA: Our Spotify page has the same thing. When we came up we were in Portland playing on the street. One of the first festivals we ever played was the Northwest String Summit. So that kind of initiated us into working in the jamgrass world. And, since we have a mandolin in the band, people would often come up to us and say “man, I don’t even like bluegrass but I love you guys!” We’re not really bluegrass nor are we a jam band. We’re a song band, and are focused on what serves the song. But now we are making a very concerted effort to present ourselves as an Americana band.
RC: Previous album covers have featured intricate illustrations. This presents the band in as artful a way, but through photography.
JCA: Those pictures were taken by a photographer (Kaja Sigvalda) in Iceland. She was absolutely incredible and it was maybe the best photo experience we’ve ever had. We really got into these artistic poses and using the natural landscapes more than we ever have. It also felt like a beautiful way to add to the vibe of the record. Everything just kind of fell together. It was the magic of following the muse.
RC: For someone who doesn’t know your music, which song off of the new record do you think is the best point of access?
JCA: There are so many good ones. I’d say maybe a song like “Can You Tell Me.” It’s one of the older songs on the record. I wrote it over 10 years ago and it sums up a lot of our different vibes throughout the years. It’s dark but groovy, and it’s got all of the harmonies and everything. Also, I would suggest “The Price of Sound Advice.” The harmonies there have always been our bread and butter. So say one of those, if not both.
RC: You are about to head back out on the road. Is there anywhere on the new tour you haven’t been to that you are excited to visit?
JCA: I’m actually one of the few members of the band that doesn’t look too hard at where we’re going. I like to try to be as “present” as possible, which means being where I’m at. There are not a lot of places that we haven’t been. But Ashville, Washington D.C., and New York City are places we always enjoy playing. I’m just looking forward to being out there.
In Part One and Part Two of this series, (Issue 208 and Issue 209), I noted the fact that I’ve played in rock bands for more than 50 years, and during that time, I’ve seen people make uncountable mistakes that could have been easily avoided – and also hit heights of fantastic musical and performance greatness. This series will talk about what to do…and what not to, when playing in a rock band.
FIrst of all, you have to have instruments and gear that are up to the task. That basically means two things:
The gear has to sound good.
But more importantly, it has to be reliable.
Can you imagine a digital mixing console crashing at a Dead & Company or Metallica or Billy Joel concert? Happily, pro audio and MI (musical instrument) companies invest a lot of effort and expense into making their gear as bulletproof as possible. Even if you’re playing the local watering hole or farmer’s market, you need reliable gear.
And you have to pay for it, and it’s worth it. I realize people, especially budding musicians, might be on a budget, but you should get the best gear you can afford.
Look, budget gear like inexpensive small guitar amps and PA speakers with cheap piezo tweeters (literally; Parts Express sells them for 23 cents) are fine for beginners, practicing, and maybe rehearsals, but cheap gear is not built to withstand the rigors of gigging. Inexpensive guitar, bass and keyboard amps are made using cost-saving techniques like soldering the jacks and potentiometers directly to the PC boards, a construction method that practically guarantees they’ll eventually break after being knocked around in a car trunk.
Inexpensive PA gear…I’ll never gig with it. Cheap keyboards usually don’t have touch-sensitive action, and don’t have the quality and range of sounds of pro models. I’ve heard nothing all that good to be said about inexpensive band instruments. Budget cymbals sound one step away from banging on trash can lids, and inexpensive drum hardware – well, you’re lucky if it doesn’t come crashing down.
The good news, though, is that affordable guitars and basses have never been better, and pro-quality equipment is extremely reliable (except for the rare bad design). I’ve been present at probably over a thousand gigs and concerts, and I have never seen a PA head fail, other than that time in the 1970s when some clown poured beer into the mixing board at a Frank Zappa concert at the Long Island Arena. (They had to stop the show for about 10 minutes while the front-of-house guy frantically reconfigured the board and got it working enough to finish the show. To say Zappa tore into the guy, who was hauled out of the building by security, would be an understatement.)
There's a reason why pro PA brands like JBL, Mackie, QSC, Yamaha, EAW, and others are pricier than other makes: they're built to last and sound superb. For a club or even outdoor gig, two high-quality PA speakers on poles will more than suffice. Subwoofers are nice, but ironically, it seems to me that DJs are the ones who really need them these days, not bands, unless you're playing in a big indoor or outdoor venue.
And the sound quality of the good stuff is exceptional. I recently did a gig where Nexo on-stage floor monitors were used, and they sounded incredible. I could distinctly hear the different kinds of reverbs and delays the sound man was putting on the vocals. These days you can go with either powered mixers and passive speakers, or the other way around, or on big stages, passive mixers and speakers and separate power amps, but this is overkill for 90 percent of average gigging situations.
I don’t know any gigging keyboardist who carries a backup, and have never seen a keyboard fail except when Ian Hunter played the Paramount in Huntington NY some years ago and his electric piano went out during “All the Way From Memphis,” a song that needs keyboards the way “Johnny B. Goode” needs guitar. Hunter simply stopped the song, calmly turned his keyboard off and back on while telling the audience what he was doing, and resumed playing. But this is the only time I’ve seen a keyboard crap out on stage.
In the 1960s when many of us old-timers were learning how to play guitar, most imported and many US-made guitars were almost literally unplayable, with high action and rough frets, to say nothing of the fact that they were made of various varieties of mystery wood that were one step above the quality of popsicle sticks. Maybe. Today’s budget guitars from Squier, Epiphone, Schecter, ESP, Ibanez and others are on a totally different level. You can get a perfectly playable instrument for $300 or even under if you look hard and are willing to buy used. Here's Jack Pearson, who has played with the Allman Brothers, tearing it up on a Squier Stratocaster:
Sure, the wood, pickups and hardware won’t be on the level of, say, a Japanese Yamaha or US-made Fender, but they’ll be good, working instruments, and can be upgraded with better electronics, hardware and tuners if desired. Some budget guitars, like the Paul Reed Smith SE Series, offer remarkable value for money. And the difference between a hard-to-play guitar or bass and one that “plays like butter” (a hackneyed phrase you’ll encounter ad nauseam on guitar forums) can be in the setup. That’s a more detailed topic than I’m going to get into here but the upshot is this: learn to do your own setups if you can (really, it's not that hard), or find someone trustworthy.
This isn't going to be a column on choosing a guitar or instrument or amp that's right for you, which would require at least an article in itself. Look at what reputable sources such as Premier Guitar, Guitar Player, Music Radar, and others have to say. Talk to knowledgeable friends and if possible, bring them with you when shopping. A trustworthy local retailer is invaluable. Be very skeptical of YouTube videos featuring sensationalistic clickbait headlines and guys making goofy faces on the thumbnail screen. If possible, play a number of instruments until you find one that "talks" to you.
You need a guitar or bass that stays in tune during a gig. I take a hard line on this. Foe me, if a guitar or bass won’t stay in tune, it’s firewood. The only thing more annoying than having to constantly tune during a set is watching someone else do it. (I’m not sure if banjos are excepted.) I once saw Donovan do a solo gig and he spent as much time tuning his guitar between songs as he did playing it. It completely ruined the concert. Get a guitar that you have to tune once at the beginning of the set, and then maybe tweak a little here and there. I have guitars that I tune once a month whether they need them or not. I'm not exaggerating. They exist.
A tuner pedal or clip-on tuner is a must. You young 'uns don't know how good you have it! Back in the day we used to, with varying degrees of success, tune to the keyboard in the band, or a tuning fork, or each other, or if you were well-heeled, a Conn strobe tuner. Check this out: someone made a "supercut" of over an hour of on-stage recording by the Grateful Dead in 1977. These days anyone can get an inexpensive tuner and get their instrument in tune in seconds.
If you’re an electric guitarist, you basically need three sounds: clean, “crunch” (the word is onomatopoeic), a slightly distorted overdrive rhythm guitar sound, and a more-overdriven lead sound for solos. Effects like reverb, delay and phasing/flanging/chorus are fun (and mandatory if you're in a Pink Floyd cover band), but you can live without them. Keyboards can get by in a rock band with good electric piano (Rhodes and/or Wurlitzer), faux Hammond organ, and credible acoustic piano sounds, and can play through either a dedicated keyboard amp, a PA speaker, or the PA system itself. Drummers can handle most gigs with a basic four-or five-piece kit with bass, snare drum, rack tom (or toms), floor tom, hi-hat, and cymbals. I’ve seen drummers use electronic drum pads and kits very successfully, especially in places where you can’t play loud or don't have a lot of setup space.
Bass players have a wealth of four- and five-string options, but you simply can’t go wrong with a Fender Precision Bass. The advent of Class D amplification has made bass amps remarkably small and light compared to the behemoths of old – many consider the mighty Ampeg SVT to be the best bass amp ever made (along with Ampeg’s B-15), but it takes two people to carry the head alone, not to mention the eight 10-inch-speaker bottom, appropriately named “The Refrigerator.” But you should use a bass amp with at least one 12-inch or two 10-inch speakers for anything other than playing a coffeehouse or small restaurant, Phil Jones amplification excepted – I don't know how in the world they get such sound out of such small speakers. (Basses can also be plugged directly into the PA; we'll get to that in a future chapter about live sound.)
******
Well, if you’re going to play gigs, sh*t will happen. Strings and snare drum heads break. Cables pop loose. Rarely, an amplifier will crap out (well, maybe much more rarely than back in the day when roadies for Grand Funk Railroad would be changing the tubes in the West amps they used, while the band was playing). So, you should carry some backup: depending on your instrument, extra strings (and a string cutter and string winder), picks, batteries, cables, and anything that might fail during a gig.
Bring tools you might need: small and large screwdrivers, a knife, pliers, nail clippers (in case you break a nail and need to trim it to keep it from catching on a guitar string, which can be very uncomfortable), wire cutters, a string winder, and maybe even a soldering iron, though, again, trying to fix a broken cable or bad connection on a pedal is almost impossible to do in under-the-gun playing situations. Learning to solder is a useful skill, but not mandatory. Also, bring a first-aid kit, or at least Band-Aids. In the scramble to set up and tear down gear, sometimes you’ll bump and scrape into things, or get a splinter from a wooden stage.
This may sound like surprising advice, but bring a cooler with drinks, snacks and food. The reason for this is something I learned the hard way, and which I’ll go into much more detail in a separate installment about eating and drinking when playing a gig.
I’ve heard recommendations for carrying an extra set of tubes if you play through a tube amp, but I’ve never seen anyone change the tubes in an amp on a gig, and personally, I think this would be impractical to impossible in such a pressure-filled situation on a dimly-lit stage. You’re better off carrying a small spare amp, or do what I do – bring a small pedal-sized amp like a Quilter Superblock US that can be plugged into a PA or small speaker you can stash in the trunk.
While on the subject of tube amps, consider them to be like cars: they need routine maintenance. I recommend having a qualified tech check them out every couple of years or so; more frequently if you’re hard on your amps and play them at volume. Tubes should generally last for about a year-and-a-half to two years (these are guitar amps we’re talking about, not audiophile components); less if you’re someone like Angus Young and pummel the living daylights out of them. And look for a qualified tech. I and other musicians have encountered butchers who don’t know what they’re doing – the late, great Long Island amp tech Richie Johnson once told me that he got a lot of work for undoing the “repairs” that hacks had done to peoples’ amplifiers.
Avoid those cheap 1/4-inch instrument cables with plastic molded ends. They will eventually break and in my opinion are completely unsuitable for gigging.
Most guitar and bass players don’t bring a spare instrument, but it’s not a bad idea if you have room in your car or on the stage (and sometimes you won’t, in either). It’s easier to swap an instrument than change a string onstage, but the latter is something you should learn to do. Just look at this amazing clip of B.B. King changing a string while playing.
I bring a spare guitar and keep it in the car, so I know it’s there but I don’t have to schlep it when setting up. It’s my security blanket and a good luck charm.
Bring your own mic! While it’s true that if you’re playing a gig with a supplied PA, microphones will usually be provided. But do you really want to sing into a mic that someone else might have put their mouth on? Especially in post-COVID world? I admit; I get lazy in this regard and should not live so recklessly, but on the other hand, when using a house mic, I don’t put my lips on it. Also, such a microphone may not be as good as the one you usually sing through.
Audio-Technica did a humorous series of videos on the subject that illustrate the point quite unequivocally:
Many musicians, especially guitarists, like to use pedalboards, a specially-designed platform that effects pedals are mounted on. The pedals are all wired together and held down in place so you simply have to connect to the instrument, amp, and AC power and you’re good to go. Multi-effects units perform a similar function and can offer dozens or hundreds of effects in a compact package.
If you have more than two or three pedals, a pedal board is a must. Otherwise, you’ll waste 10 to 20 minutes connecting everything, and this is not an option when playing a gig with several bands on the bill, on a dimly-lit stage, and/or when time is tight. A pro tip – bring a backup overdrive pedal in case your pedalboard or multi-effects unit fails. You don’t want to be trying to diagnose what went wrong while you’re on stage. Trust me; I’ve been there.
And don’t be the a-hole who brings a huge pedalboard that takes forever to set up to an open mic or a gig where acts have a 20-minute set. The bands that have to follow you won’t appreciate it when you go over your allotted time and cut into theirs because you screwed around with your stupidly-excessive rig just so you could get “your sound.” If you’re Robert Fripp or Steve Hackett and have the luxury of hours of setup time, fine…but chances are, you’re not, and you don’t. I once saw a guy spend 15 minutes setting up a pedalboard for his mandolin. We were the following act and it cut our time in half. There’s nothing else I could say here that wouldn’t involve expletives.
The author's Samba pedalboard. It takes just a minute or two to plug it in. Top row: Chase Tone Secret Preamp, J. Rockett Immortal Echo (delay), DigiTech Mosaic (12-string guitar emulator), Voodoo Lab Micro Vibe (Uni-Vibe repro). Bottom row: Jetter Dharma (dual overdrive), Paul Cochrane Timmy (overdrive), Sonic Research ST-200 tuner.
Protect your instrument! Most local gigging musicians I know use gig bags and soft drum bags, not hard cases. They weigh a lot less and are easier to carry, but perhaps more importantly, they take up less space in a cramped trunk or back seat. (My rectangular hardshell bass case won’t fit in the trunk of my 2018 Elantra.) That said, don’t go cheap – inexpensive gig bags have inadequately thin padding for anything other than home storage use, and don’t hold up over time. Spend the money and buy something like a Mono or Reunion Blues gig bag, or one of those overpriced Nord keyboard bags. They’re more durable and probably more economical in the long run. I’ve had my Reunion Blues RB Continental Voyager, about $250 list, for hundreds of gigs and rehearsals, and it barely shows any wear. Regarding amplifiers, get at least a fabric cover for them, which will protect the amp from getting scuffed and dinged while being loaded in and out.
If you’re a touring musician, that’s different. You’ll need an airline- and truck-proof case like a Gator TSA Series, Hiscox, SKB, or a road case, the type that has metal edging.
Budget tip: you can get really cheap bags and suitcases at garage sales and thrift shops. I like the old Samsonite hard-sided suitcases – remember those ads with the gorilla stomping on them? They offer excellent protection and I've never paid more than $5 for one, usually less.
A hand truck or rolling cart are one of the best investments you can make. You don’t need a big industrial model; Milwaukee makes a lightweight foldable hand truck that makes load in and load out far easier. (Get the aluminum one.) The Rock N’ Roller Multi-Carts are the gold standard for moving gear, but they’re pricey. A cheaper alternative is one of those fabric-sided folding wheeled carts you can get from WalMart, Amazon and other places, if you don’t need the ruggedness of a pro model.
As much as you might want to bring a Terry Bozzio-sized drum kit or Keith Emerson keyboard stack to a gig, it’s a heck of a lot easier to think in terms of carrying as little gear as possible, that weighs as little as possible. (Yamaha makes some wonderful lightweight drum hardware these days.) At a lot of local gigs, the stage – if you even get to play on a stage and not on the floor in the corner of the bar – won’t be very big. Let's just say this kit will not fit onto the stage at the Corner Galley:
Try to minimize the amount of trips you have to make from your car to the venue. You’ll appreciate this at the end of a long night. And in today’s world, stage volumes are quieter. Do not play at a volume that irritates customers, or especially, the bar owner. You want to be asked back again. In the 1970s, my regular gigging amp was a Fender Twin Reverb, 85 watts, two 12-inch speakers. Today it’s a Princeton Reverb, with 12 watts and one 10-inch speaker.
The author's main amp, a 1965 Fender Princeton Reverb. It's been used on hundreds of gigs and rehearsals, to this day. Leo Fender built things to last.
When it comes to on-stage equipment, think small, light, mobile, fast, and easy.
Here are some other gear-related considerations that I’ll address in depth in future installments:
Using an iPod or music stand and cheat sheets onstage.
Whether or not to play along to pre-recorded tracks.
What to do when something fails.
How to deal with the audience when a mistake happens.
Lighting, or the lack of it.
Until then, rock on!
Header image: the road cases for the gear for James Blake at a concert at St. Ann & the Holy Trinity church, Manhattan, July 12, 2024. (He was fantastic.)
This month we have some vintage rock and roll and blues, jazz old and new, and a couple of frequently-reissued titles that will save you some hard-earned cash.
A little reissue news before I continue. If anyone recalls when War’s Greatest Hits was reissued for Record Store Day a few years ago, Kevin Gray notified us that he had cut the record on his all-tube mastering system (which he otherwise reserved for his own Cohearent Records label) and it caused a stir in the record collecting community and quickly sold out. Rhino has one again reissued the album using Kevin’s masters, and it is available for a brief time in the Rhino “Sounds of the Summer” series. If you’re interested in a good-sounding copy this album, run over to your local independent record store (where it’s an exclusive) and pick one up before they sell out again.
Also, the Rhino High Fidelity release of the self-titled Black Sabbath debut album has had a second pressing run. It is available exclusively on their site. The only difference is that this second batch is not numbered. Same mastering, though. The numbered release sold out quickly, so don’t snooze on this one! To find it on the Rhino site, you need to look for the separate “unnumbered” product listing, as the original shows as being sold out.
I’ll have listening impressions of both next month. Spoiler? Both are highly recommended, and I only say this now as these pressing runs may sell out quickly in the meantime.
Wilson Pickett: The Exciting Wilson Pickett Arthur Conley: Sweet Soul Music Ray Charles: Ray Charles
Atlantic 75th Anniversary Series, Atlantic Records
I’ve run warm and cold on some of the Atlantic 75 reissues from Analogue Productions, and honestly, as much as I wanted to hear the upcoming Wilson Pickett album in this series, I also acknowledge that it is no audiophile masterpiece, and it’s nothing I would listen to often enough to justify spending $60 on it. All three of the albums above are released by Atlantic, reissued on clear vinyl in monaural, and all of them arrived flat and quiet with almost no background noise. The sound quality? Quite good, actually! I suspect these might have been digitally sourced, and indeed, these all have high-res equivalent downloads available through Qobuz which sound equally as good. These are records to put on and enjoy without fussing over hearing every last detail. Pickett’s album includes the hits “Land of 1000 Dances” and “In the Midnight Hour,” and the Ray Charles album (originally Atlantic LP 8006, later reissued as Hallelujah I Love Her So!) was originally a compilation of singles, including many of my favorites among his oldest hits. The Conley album, naturally, features the album’s titular song as its immediately recognizable hit single. Great summer music!
Tito Puente: Para Los Rumberos
Craft Recordings/Tico Records
For fans of Latin music, Craft Recordings has been releasing a slow but steady stream of reissues form the Fania/Tico family of labels, which were renowned back in the day for their incredible roster of Latin recording artists. From personal experience, trying to find clean, affordable copies of these records can be difficult and expensive, and the sound quality of the pressings is sometimes lacking as well. Thankfully, this series presents these albums with all-new mastering on nicely-pressed vinyl. Para los Rumberos is the 1972 Tico album from our man Tito Puente, mastered by Kevin Gray. The title track is familiar to Santana fans and in fact, Tito returns the favor by covering the song “Batuka” from the Santana III album. Artists on this album include Willie Colón, Mario Riera, Charlie Palmieri, José Madera, and Jimmy Frisaura, among other who make up the ensemble. The band is on fire and at the top of its game.
Bill Evans Trio: Sunday at the Village Vanguard / Waltz for Debby
Craft Recordings / Riverside/OJC
I agree with the opinions on the internet that these titles have been reissued way too often. And in fact, now there are UHQR releases of these two albums. I already have the SACD versions that Analogue Productions released a while ago, and they are my go-to versions in the digital world. I did hear a Mobile Fidelity OneStep test pressing of Village Vanguard at an audio show many years ago but honestly heard nothing in their demo that surpassed the SACD. For those who missed out on those SACD releases, the former 45-RPM versions on Analogue Productions, or don’t want to pay the UHQR tax, these Craft Recordings reissues mastered by Kevin Gray are worthy substitutes, and the vinyl pressing quality is excellent. They are the only audiophile vinyl versions I own and they sound superb. If you want well-mastered versions of these albums on vinyl that won’t break the bank, well, here you go!
My wish for future Craft titles? More Bill Evans. And in stereo, please. (Our editor has the 2-LP 45-RPM Craft reissue of You Must Believe in Spring and says it’s exceptional.)
Jean-Luc Ponty: Life Enigma
MPS Records
I was a fan of Jean-Luc Ponty from the time his A Taste for Passion album was getting airplay on our local jazz radio station. After recording many records for Atlantic, he moved on to the Columbia/Epic label(s) and recorded a few there before returning to Atlantic, wrapping up that period of his career with the studio album No Absolute Time in 1993. Aside from his Rite of Strings recording in 1995 (with Stanley Clarke and Al Di Meola) and a live release on Atlantic, his next studio recording wouldn’t come until 2001’s Life Enigma. At first self-released, it has finally gotten a reissue this summer, both in digital format and on vinyl, with revised cover art. As most of it was composed and recorded at his home studio, there are synthesizers on the album, but the songwriting is every bit as good, if not better, than his previous output.
“Signals from Planet Earth” might sound familiar to Ponty fans, as it seems like a recycled version of “Don’t Let the World Pass You By” from Cosmic Messenger. Instead, Ponty had set out to record a new version of the song, but once he started playing around with it in his studio, he found the song was going in a different direction and took on a life of its own. “Pizzy Cat” is a clever solo piece performed pizzicato on the violin via MIDI and Synclavier. “Lonely Among All” will remind some listeners of songs from Individual Choice, while “Firmament” feels like it’s from No Absolute Time.
The original CD had a few bright digital edges to it, but this new vinyl release (all 54 minutes nicely cut onto one record) has a more relaxed presentation and goes down smoothly. I’ve probably played this one the most of all the recent vinyl I’ve purchased, as it’s been nice to revisit a favorite album.
Used Record of the Month:
Horace Silver Quintet/Sextet: The Jody Grind
Blue Note Records
Out of print Blue Note titles are hard to find for an affordable price, especially if they have never been reissued on vinyl. One of those titles rarely reissued is The Jody Grind, which immediately followed The Cape Verdean Blues. A quick perusal of Discogs shows that this 1967 album was repressed in 1970 on vinyl, and was reissued on CD in 1991, 1997, 2009, and 2019. This one is begging for a Classic Vinyl or Tone Poet series reissue. Personnel alternates between a quintet and sextet (with alto, tenor, and trumpet as the front line). Like other Silver albums from this era, the slight exoticism and unusual chord progressions are what hold my attention. The grading of this album wasn’t too promising, but after a cleaning session, it is an excellent player with only faint surface noise and very little wear that I can hear. All in? Around $25 with shipping. With other copies out there selling north of $60, this was a surprise.
Like any of my album reviews, all records in The Vinyl Beat are purchased by me personally unless otherwise noted.
The Absolute Sound posted a detailed video review of the StellarGold preamp. In the review, Thomas Tan found a lot to enjoy…click here to watch the video.
Secrets of Home Theater and High Fidelity conducted a thorough review of the Stellar Strata MK2 integrated amplifier. In the review, John Johnson noted, “PS Audio…always delivers good value for the dollar, and the StellarGold preamp is no exception.” He also commented, “Another good test album, and my favorite recording of this composition: Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man, Telarc. It has very powerful bass drum thuds throughout the recording. The Stellar Strata handled them perfectly.”
Stellar Strata MK2 integrated amplifier.
FIDELITY Magazinereviewed the StellarGold DAC and liked it a lot. Frank Lechtenberg stated, “The StellarGold DAC delivers a fine, detailed and dynamic representation of this musical experience. What stands out is the meticulousness and sovereignty across all frequency ranges. There is substance at the bottom and resolution without harshness at the top. The spatial dimension is realistic and plausible in both width and depth…”
The Sprout100 is included in The Absolute Sound High-End Audio Buyer’s Guide 2024. The publication compared it to the original Sprout and said, “…the new Sprout100 offers a number of upgrades and improvements, including a redesigned phono stage and headphone amp, a new DAC (up to DSD128 and 384/24PCM), and a remote control…the Sprout100 has the ability to coax even more open spaciousness, lively musicality, detail, and low-end extension from small loudspeakers (especially with the “bass boost” option on). Expect big sound and even more bang for the buck.”
I’ve been thinking about the ideas of craftsmanship and quality, especially after viewing so many drop-dead gorgeous instruments at NAMM 2024. Does the quality of the finish of a guitar affect its sound, especially in an electric guitar? For acoustic instruments, the type and grade of wood, the finish, and especially its design have tremendous ramifications, but for electric instruments with pickups that go through amps and speakers I wonder if the overall feel of a guitar is more important regarding a player’s affinity for it. There’s an area of NAMM where high-end guitars are put out in a juried competition where an industry jury decides the winners. It’s full of dazzlingly glossy instruments, with not a fingerprint or scuff in sight, truly beautiful instruments, testaments to art, design, and artisan craftsmanship. It made me recall a trip to the Fender factory in Corona, California.
Jon Cherry is my neighbor in Anaheim, and was vice president of manufacturing at the Fullerton plant and later the Corona plant from 1969 to 2022. During those years, he was “retired” four times and brought back again and again whenever new legal, technical, and quality control issues cropped up. During the years Fender was owned by CBS, there were well-known quality issues after they purchased it from Leo Fender and the original owners in 1965, and Fender took a hit to its reputation. So, when Bill Schultz and a group of employees and investors purchased Fender in 1985 from CBS, one of the first tasks Schultz prioritized was to rebuild Fender’s reputation, and Cherry was in the thick of it. I reckon he must have done something right to turn what he thought would be a temporary gig into a career. He joined the company when they offered to purchase Cherry’s own machine shop, and he was there to help manage the transition, and well, you know, stuck around a bit, for, well…53 years.
The Lacey Act of 1900 is one of America’s oldest wildlife protection laws, and was originally passed to limit the overhunting of game birds. Since then, it’s been updated an amended multiple times, and one of the goals of its 2008 amendment sought to limit illegally-sourced paper, wood, and timber by curbing illegal logging, and in the process protect the US logging industry. For companies like Fender, it demanded that materials such as those used for building instruments are harvested from sustainable sources, so Cherry was brought back yet again to deal with the implications of the Lacey Act and make sure the instruments were up to snuff, especially their more affordable products that were made offshore. I should note that this is an ongoing concern for all wood-based manufacturing companies, and with corruption in the supply chain around the globe being a serious issue.
Cherry’s background wasn’t even in music. He was a master precision machinist, drag racer, driver, mechanic, motorcyclist, and engine builder. After all those years at Fender, he still couldn’t play a lick of music, but he could spot a production problem a mile away.
One time, he arranged it so that our family could have a private tour of the Fender facility in Corona. Our son Thomas was a budding guitarist, so it was an incredible experience to see instruments and amplifiers being built from scratch. It’s a sprawling factory, where virtually every aspect of their instruments, amplifiers, and more are created, and we could even see Custom Shop models under production. The extraordinary level of detail and perfection on the production line was evident everywhere you looked, yet what was interesting to me were that some of the Relic series guitars were being purposely distressed to look they were used instruments.
This was kind of perplexing to me; I mean, it’s like putting a perfect paint job on a car, and then scuffing and scratching it up to make it look aged. The art professor in me would probably use the overly-fancy idea of verisimilitude, which translates to the appearance of being true or real. In the theater or cinema world, making fake things look real is par for the course, but on a gorgeous guitar?
I suppose it isn’t unlike folks wearing pre-distressed denim jeans, for what reasons I can’t fathom, although to be fair, it wasn’t that long ago that acid-washed jeans were all the rage, which I couldn’t understand either. Pay extra for partly-ruined clothes (or guitars) – nice work if you can get it. Cherry also told me that Fender was the largest consumer of vacuum tubes in the world, something audiophiles can be thankful for, since it stabilized demand for what was an almost dead and obsolete industry.
In any case, NAMM is a place where you can experience the finest in musical instruments, pro audio gear, headphones, amplifiers and everything else music-related, and get to hang out with the great people who make it all happen, including famous musicians and the folks behind Grammy-winning recordings. Fortunately, I can never remember who anyone is, so I don’t get star struck, but you might have a different experience. One difference I’ve noticed at pro-audio-centric shows like AES and NAMM is that the sometimes-rancorous opinionated anger that I’ve seen on display at audio shows and on forums is pretty much absent, unless Spotify is mentioned. These folks know that there isn’t only one way or one approach to good sound, and the best people in the industry are there, so everyone is keen on learning others’ techniques and chosen gear. If you can garner an invitation or attend (AES is open to all), I’d highly recommend going.
Here are more scenes from the 2024 NAMM show.
Some of the recipients of the Teacher of The Year for Technology, given by TI:ME (Technology in Music Education): Gillian Desmarais (K-12 Music Technology Educator at Maplewood Public Schools), Ryan Van Bibber, Richard McCready, and Shawna Longo (2019).
Irene Shapes of pro audio distributor RAD Distribution, John Krivit of Hey Audio Student and past president of AES, and an attendee enjoy a moment at the show.
Benny Bergman of Mac Edition Radio meets the legendary recording engineer and producer Lenice Bent. She is the first woman engineer to receive an RIAA Platinum award, for Blondie's AutoAmerican.
Singer/guitarist Emi Grace, engineer Dennis "roc.am," and Dave Malekpour and J. Rose of Augspurger loudspeakers greet guests at the Augspurger party.
Saramonic showed off its wireless microphone systems.
Also in attendance were hip-hop artist REACEYUNG, Paul Watson (Headliner magazine) producer/mixer Rich Keller, and producer/mixer Bainz.
Rock Clouser of KHS America plays a gorgeous H. Jimenez Mexica Calendar bajo quinto, while Gilbert Reyes makes music on a beautiful Hohner Anacleto accordion.
Here's a closer look at the guitar.
Love comfortable earpads? Dekoni Audio make some of the best replacement earpads in the business. Dylan Scarzafava and Tai Kocen show off the company's wares.
Any audiophile or audio professional usually has at least one or two types of DeoxIT contact cleaner on hand. Here Alan Adelstein of Caig Laboratories shows of the company's wide product range.
Craig Thatcher and Mike Nelson show the inside of new Martin guitars featuring a newly-designed bracing pattern.
Mixer/producer/engineer Mark Needham of M.A.N. Entertainment and Justin Coletti from Sonic Scoop use Sennheiser microphones to discuss the Evolution series of microphones from Sennheiser.
DJ Jazzy Jeff speaks at the NAMM TEC Awards, for Technical Excellence and Creativity. The TEC awards are recognized as the highest honor dedicated to the pro audio and sound recording industry.
Grammy-winning artist Josh Gudwin and drummer/producer/multi-talent Queen Cora were presenters at the TEC awards.
TEC Innovations Awards recipient and hip-hop artist RZA.
Maureen Davis performs at the Roni Lee Rooftop Jam, one of the numerous big parties at NAMM, with Claire Goh backing her on violin.
Tommy Heath of Tommy Tutone (who can forget "867-5309/Jenny?") is interviewed by Olivia Kosic at the Rooftop Jam, and also performed.
Author Harris Fogel is with Hunter Hayes, an American multi-genre singer, songwriter, record producer, and multi-instrumentalist. He is proficient on more than 30 instruments.
More players and participants at the Rooftop Jam: Megan Steiner (Pulp Vixen), Olivia Tosic, Koko Powell, and Becky Moon (Pulp Vixen).
Julia Lage (bassist for Vixen) hangs out with Renée Anchondo (acoustic guitarist and volunteer).
Here are Katsu, Frank Mueller, Koji (of BRASH☆BEAT!), Shogo, Max, and Ogura. We met Koji and his band and mentioned we were heading to Roni’s Rooftop Jam, so they followed us and had a fantastic time. Koji is a major star in Japan. He started out in Tokyo at age 15. He plays guitar and other instruments, and produces. In 2013, he recorded his debut album NW8 at Abbey Road Studios, and has toured in the UK and the US, as well as elsewhere abroad and in Japan.
Australian/British rock band Kelsy Karter and the Heroines strike a pose: Matt Peach (guitar), Tommy Gent (Bass), Kelsy Karter (vocals), and Sebastian Boyse (drums). Kelsy grew up in Australia as a theater kid, and the rest of the band hail from Derby, UK.
Mike Capese of Trans-Siberian Orchestra and Marco Mendoza (Thin Lizzy, Whitesnake, Journey, Ted Nugent and others) rock out.
L.A. musician Nova shows the author her guitar, up close and personal.
Presenting a gorgeous pair of LAVA cymbals from Turkish Cymbals. Not all cymbals need to be shiny-looking!
Brett and Mitch work the booth for Third Man Hardware, founded by Jack White. The company always has a distinctive design sense. Black, yellow, and that’s all. Brilliant!
Cream Guitars had one of the best-designed booths at the show, as well as some killer guitars and basses.
René “The Flying Dutchman” Barthen and a colleague held the crowd at bay with some great drumming.
Klas Espenkrona and Linus Berglund travelled all the way from Sweden to demonstrate their KiloHearts software effects plugins.
CEO Ari Morguelan and Martin Ramone of Audeze show off two models of their acclaimed planar magnetic headphones.
Hip-hop artist and ASCAP Foundation Award winner Dom Jones performs at the Gritty In Pink party.
The Parnelli Awards bestows honors for excellence in the live events industry. Here, video director Carol Dodds accepts the 2024 Parnelli Visionary Award. She has worked with artists including Bruce Springsteen, U2, Jimmy Buffett and many others.
Roxy Levan (volunteer) and Kelsy Karter of Kelsy Karter and the Heroines, an Australian/British rock and roll band.
Backstage at the She Rocks event: Lorraine Lewis (Vixen, Femme Fatale), Julia Lage (Vixen), Renée Anchondo (@acoustic guitarist and volunteer), Christina Lacalla (DJ), and Lex Wolf (bassist for Jimena Fosado).
Here's a group of people from InEarz Audio and Earasers. We have previously written about the effectiveness of their hearing protection. which are molded from silicon rubber and are comfortable and almost invisible.
Tommy Tutone, and bassist Steve Unger of Metal Church and Where Angels Suffer.
Stevie Marks of the band Gasoline and Matches shows off some Blackstar amplifiers, distributed in the US by Korg.
Here's Adam Weissler of the Grammy Museum with Susanna Hoffs of the Bangles and solo artist fame.
Some of the nicest folks I met at were from Ren Ferguson Guitars. Ren Ferguson worked as a master luthier at Gibson Acoustic, and at Guild. Now, he and his son Timothy and daughter Virginia, they craft spectacular acoustic guitars. They also had the best baseball cap of the show!
Roni Lee and friends pose for a group photo.
Header image: Emiko Carlin, musician and senior vice president of T.H.E. Show, next to Prince's purple piano, one of the most popular attractions at NAMM.
I am in the enviable position of being able to listen to music many hours a day, since I work from home, even if it’s background listening most of the time. It’s impossible to include everything of merit in every issue of Copper, but I thought I’d do some quick takes from time to time.
Lou Reed: Sweet, Wild and Vicious, by Jim Higgins (Trouser Press Books)
I am a big Lou Reed fan, but didn’t realize until this book came out that between his time in the Velvet Underground to his death in 2013, he released almost 50 albums. Sweet, Wild and Vicious (titled as a tip of the hat to “Sweet Jane,” “Walk on the Wild Side” and “Vicious,” three of Reed’s most iconic songs) covers every single one of them, plus what the author calls “orphans” – songs that were not included on albums – and selected cover versions.
Higgins, the arts and books editor for the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, takes on all of Reed’s albums in chronological order, with some side trips along the journey. It’s not just a by-the-numbers song-by-song listing with descriptions: The level of detail is extremely thorough. Higgins weaves information about Lou Reed’s life and those around him – from his early days with Andy Warhol to meeting his last wife Laurie Anderson and lots of colorful characters in between – with details about the musicians who played on the tracks, analyses of where Reed was in popularity and industry status (or lack of) at the time a particular album was released, technical details about the recordings (Reed was extremely interested in technology and sound), and much, much more.
Naturally, any book of this nature is going to be founded on the author’s opinions as well as facts and historical events. Higgins’s opinions are insightful and illuminating. Take this insight from the first chapter about The Velvet Underground & Nico debut album:
“Few guitarists can honestly aspire to the genius of [Jimi] Hendrix; few vocalists approach the power of [Janis] Joplin or the soul of [Van] Morrison. But many men and women brandishing guitars have strutted in the footsteps of Velvet Underground leader Lou Reed, who parlayed his modest vocal ability into a compelling voice through his songwriting, defiant stance and force of will.”
Like any book of this type, you may not agree with every opinion expressed: the author finds the Berlin album to be not loud enough or have enough dynamic range unless listening via headphones. Well, the author should hear it on a high-end audio system, where Berlin sounds magnificent. Then again, not everyone has that advantage.
Ultimately, the book answers bigger questions. What kind of man was the man who received electroshock therapy as a teenager, wrote about heroin and alternative sexualities from personal experience, and later in life found peace from marriage and tai chi? As Higgins notes, “I have no unifying theory of Lou Reed to sell you. On the contrary, I see him as a polymorphous musical creature.” Sweet, Wild and Vicious illuminates seemingly countless details about Reed’s recorded work and career, in prose that can soar. About the album Ecstasy, Higgins writes: “At 58, Reed was no longer supple enough to sing the sinuous melody he created for the title track. But it still works. His aging voice represents a falling body that has not stopped yearning with desire for the beloved, for the object of his obsession, for the shattering high of transcendence.”
It's a tall order to write about an artist like Lou Reed, and Jim Higgins does it brilliantly. He makes you want to stop what you’re doing and listen to the music, especially the songs you haven’t heard. I can think of no higher compliment.
The Dave Stryker Trio With Bob Mintzer: Groove Street (Strikezone Records)
I am way late to the party on this one. It was released in January. I admit, I’ve been dealing with some sinus/hearing issues and my main system was down for about two months, but…still. Truth be told, I’ve played it a number of times but hadn’t gotten around to writing about it. Groove Street features Dave Stryker on guitar, with Jared Gold on organ and McClenty Hunter on drums, a classic organ trio – with the great Bob Mintzer sitting in on tenor saxophone. The band plays a mix of covers like “The More I See You” and Wayne Shorter’s “Infant Eyes” with mostly Stryker originals.
The playing grooves as hard as the title would imply. Stryker’s playing is brilliant, in a John Scofield or Pat Metheny or Kurt Rosenwinkel kind of way, though I’m throwing those names out there just to give something of a reference, not to slight Stryker’s distinctive, virtuosic and totally musical style. Gold lays down the bass groove and provides some very cool soloing, Hunter drives the music and adds percussive colorations that keep the trio sound varied, and Mintzer…well, there’s a reason why he’s a legend. As Stryker says in the liner notes, “We recorded prior to playing a week at Birdland in NYC, so the music was fresh and mostly first takes.” The sound is warm and rich, a pleasure to hear and a perfect complement to the sound of the band.
Sam Smith and Hikaru Utada: “Stay With Me”
The Grammy-winning songwriter and J-pop star Hikaru Utada just released this version of Smith’s “Stay With Me” to commemorate the song’s 10th (!) anniversary. By coincidence, I had come upon Utada a week before on YouTube when her Live Sessions from AIR Studios randomly popped up, which I cannot recommend highly enough – the musicianship is as brilliant as her singing.
Smith’s original will melt a stone heart. His new version with Utada is taken at the same key and tempo, and the dynamic between the two of them adds a different element – while Smith’s solo version is one of yearning after a one-night stand that could perhaps turn into something more, Utada’s duet is an affirmation between to people who are perhaps falling in love, but maybe not quite there yet. Smith and Utada’s duet is more spacious than the original, with dreamy synthesizers, a choir of background vocals, and a gentle but insistent percussive bass tying it all together. If you don’t have a hi-res streaming service, you can listen to it here or click on the video above.
I and legions of audiophiles have already heard this classic recording, which captures Patricia Barber and her band live at The Green Mill in Chicago in July 1999. However, Impex has now released in their 1STEP 45-RPM series, where the plated disc is used as the stamper, eliminating generation loss. (See my review of Sing and Dance With Frank Sinatra in this issue for more details.) Like others in the 1STEP series, this is a two-disc set that comes in a luxurious slipcase with an accompanying booklet, and the vinyl is of impeccable quality.
For these live dates, Patricia Barber decided to play Hammond organ as well as piano, accompanied by John McLean on guitar, Eric Montzka and Rubén Alvarez on percussion (you can see a coffee can mounted on a stand in one of the photos!), and Michael Arnopol on bass. The album was recorded and mixed by Jim Anderson using 32-tracks, with 24-bit Studer X2 and Akai ADAT recorders and 32 channels of John Hardy M-1 microphone preamps. The stereo mix was done using the Prism Sound 24-bit bit-splitting system.
For those who haven’t heard it, Companion has great presence and solidity. The “startle factor” is powerful – those times when a sound leaps out with such surprising realism that it startles you into turning your head and getting an adrenaline jolt. This happens many times on Companion, from the opening acoustic bass on “The Beat Goes On” to the sound of the applause between tracks, and with the percussion sounds in many instances.
There’s great clarity and separation of instruments, and Barber’s vocal is tangible. The overall sonic impression is one of weight, which, along with the sonic clarity, really does give you a sense of being there in the club. There’s a subtle reverb…room sound? The players are top-notch, and McLean is simply sensational, ranging from clean and maybe slightly compressed sound to crunchy overdrive. You really hear his dynamics. Barber’s well-recorded Hammond is a thing of beauty. Arnopol’s bass is deep and luscious, and when he slaps the strings, it has a high “jump” factor. The only other versions of Companion I’ve listened to are the CD-quality streams on Qobuz and Tidal, so I can’t say if this 1STEP is the best-sounding version, but good lord, it’s superb.
Barber is an intimately inviting singer, and there are many fine musical moments – you can literally hear that she and the band have much experience playing together and playing off of each other. It all culminates in the jaw-dropping showstopper “Black Magic Woman.” It builds and builds to a fantastic climax, and sounds very, very “real.” If you want to show off your system, play that track and proceed to watch everyone flip out.
K-pop Extravaganza!
As readers of my article on Korean TV soundtracks will know (Issue 204), our household has become enamored of them, which has led me to branch out into listening to various K-pop playlists. If your tastes run more to Bach or Dylan or Monk, you may think it crazy, even downright inappropriate for a 69-year-old man to be turning up the volume and head bopping for music made for teenyboppers, but who cares when I’m having this much fun? Here are some recent favorites, all available on streaming audio (I’m providing YouTube links for easy reference).
Someday – The Black Skirts Perfect Night – Le Sserafim (warning: irresistible earworm) Gee – Girls’ Generation Dream Us – Park Eun-bin (an astonishing singer and actress) Yellow Light – Gaho My Secret Friend – Every Single Day Cupid – Fifty Fifty (listen on a good system!)
KK finds out that embracing a dormant format is full of surprises.
Audiophiles come in many flavors, and I am not even remotely bothered by those who are, say, equipment junkies with $100,000 systems and only three LPs. There are scientific types who probably hate music and live for specifications. There are quasi-religious proselytizers who think digital causes cancer, or transistors are a substitute for Viagra, or other benighted souls. I love ’em all, which is why the buzz for me is about the history of audio, as much as it is for my all-consuming love for music. Like 8 to 10 hours every day.
It never occurred to me that I was an historian, but that was how I was described after writing five books on the subject, and it beats being called a hi-fi hack or other contemptuous slight. Suffice it to say, I am overly fascinated by the forgotten tales of hi-fi, in part because the audio industry has the worst record of any in respecting its past.
Google the number of lavish books about electric guitars, fountain pens, tractors, or whiskey, if you don't believe me. What has been occupying me of late are not only reel-to-reel tapes in general, but those from out of left field in particular. Some of the discoveries so revelatory (at least, that is, to me) that I wish I had a platform with which to share them outside of our community. Not that I believe the R2R format can be revived beyond the current cult. When I first renewed my interest in open-reel tape, nearly five years ago, it was only about sound quality. Repertoire? That never even entered the equation because I knew that I only had a dozen or so tapes, most crucially a copy of the Capitol 7-1/2 ips version of the Beatles’Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.
Why “crucially?” Because it was the very tape played by Tim de Paravicini at the 2017 Tokyo International Audio Show which started me on the journey that would end up with me scouring eBay for other tapes – obsessively. Ultimately, I called it quits when the total passed 2,500 or so. This passion for tape didn't creep up on me slowly: it was immediate. Among the tapes I did own were copies ofAretha’s Goldon Atlantic andThe Very Best of Roy Orbisonon Monument, both in excellent condition. As re-introductions go, along withSgt. Pepper, it was not unlike how I got sucked into worshipping Italian red wines: after 20 years as a true teetotaler, my first taste of vino was a late-1980s Tignanello. And to think that it could have been Manischewitz…. It didn't take long for me to want more.
My first open-reel purchases, prior to embarking on the eBay addiction, were acquired at the UK’sAudioJumble.There I found a half-dozen tapes on one of the stands, at £10 ($14) apiece. What I soon learned was that open-reel tapes – even at 40-years-plus, and/or those of the generally lower quality 1/4-track, 3-3/4 ips variety – betteredanyvinyl equivalent. (Note: if you’ve read this far, may I respectfully assume you accept that bold, perhaps even absurd statement, or that you are at least willing to allow me to believe it? Please donotbombardCopperwith emails about how Kessler is full of s***, how vinyl is superior, yada yada yada. I have already exhausted the R2R-vs-LP debate with no less than Michael Fremer, resulting in a friendly stalemate as I am always happy to let the deliciously misguided Mikey believe what he likes. Moreover, I can count as allies on my side of the argument this organ’s Jay Jay French, the dear, departed Tim de Paravicini, and the legendary Bob Ludwig. So, as the Eagles sang: get over it.) I was schooled enough in the history of recorded music and the myriad formats which existed to know that there were two coherent epochs of pre-recorded, commercially-available open-reel tapes.
The first age, the tapes of which caught my ear and to which I am devoted, commenced with the dawn of hi-fi and was concurrent with the birth of domestically-accessible stereo playback, circa 1950 – 1957. It ended, as far as I can determine, in the mid-1980s, after which major labels ceased the release of pre-recorded reel-to-reel tapes. As for the second era, it’s the period we’re in now. A number of forces turned open-reel tape into a tiny niche appealing to intrepid enthusiasts: the absence of new affordable, and/or real-world tape decks, the diminution of the number of manufacturers of blank tape, the high costs, the dominance of cassettes for home recording, the vagaries of owning used tape decks.
As a result, the pre-recorded titles now on offer are, as far as I can tell, only 1/2-track tapes and with precious few exceptions playing at anything other than 15 ips. This means 10-inch spools swallowing lots of raw tape. It also means big bucks, and I know of no new pre-recorded tapes under $150 – $200. Far more discouraging – and this is really gonna rile those of you who are hyper-sensitive, politically correct, or woke in any way – is the material, which has been discussed before.
To reiterate, aside from the few known artists and albums on offer fromThe Tape Project,Analogue Productionsand one or two others, the vast bulk of what is available from current sources certainly doesn't encourage parting with money that otherwise would pay for, say, a Mobile Fidelity One-Step LP by Stevie Ray Vaughan or Charles Mingus or Janis Joplin or Santana. Sorry, but hugely expensive tapes by artists of whom one has never heard, producing music that may or may not be worth hearing – it takes either an open mind or an open credit limit. And I suffer neither. Instead, I have embarked on a period of discovery which surprises and delights me on a weekly basis. It starts with the nostalgia most directly associated with American baby boomers, and, if they’re still so blessed, their surviving parents or relatives. It is a period of mostly forgotten names, or those enjoying rediscovery.
As a displaced expat from Maine, even after a half-century I have to remind myself that most of my British friends haven’t a clue as to the existence of Howdy Doody or Captain Kangaroo, any more than US contemporaries have an awareness of the Goons or Muffin the Mule. Occasionally, events shake things up a bit and music I thought hadn’t crossed the Atlantic proves otherwise. For example, a recent TV ad in the UK has a soundtrack supplied by Louis Prima. I still don't know where he fits in the scale of global recognition, but I’m intimately familiar with his music because my father adored him. The younger among you, and for that matter the British of a certain age, might know his music because you or they are fans of David Lee Roth or Brian Setzer, or grew up loving Disney’s (original animated)The Jungle Book.It is the post-war cultural pool of the initial half of the first reel-to-reel epoch which I find to be yielding so many aural thrills. It’s a litany of names that may or may not trigger bouts of nostalgia, quite irrespective of any seeming audiophilic value – which, as it so happens, they all possess: Steve and Eydie Gormé. Mitch Miller. Rosemary Clooney. Jackie Gleason. Lawrence Welk. Peter Nero.
What stopped me dead in my tracks was some small print. Although I am old enough to remember all of those named in the above paragraph, primarily viaThe Ed Sullivan Show,TheHollywood Palace, and the like, I was too late to the game to know about the releases from the labels which were the audiophile companies of the day. I discovered Everest, Command, Bel Canto, Audio Fidelity and the rest decades after they established the standards for sound quality in the home. Thus it was a real thrill to find evidence of Mobile Fidelity’s achievements long before it was a source for deluxe pressings from, say, Supertramp or Pink Floyd.
Seasoned audiophiles know that Mobile Fidelity’s roots go back to 1958 or so, beginning with Brad Miller’s recordings of steam trains (a curious penchant shared with Audio Fidelity). Most of us are familiar with the later period, from Herb Belkin’s time to its current ownership under Jim Davis and recall how the label made its mark for modern (post-1970s) audio enthusiasts withThe Power and the Majestyon both vinyl and CD.What had eluded me was the importance of the Mystic Moods Orchestra due to my own ignorance-cum-snobbery.
One of the benefits (or side effects) of over-indulging in pre-1980s open-reel tapes is the appreciation of genres which otherwise one might have ignored or avoided. These included, for me, what sneeringly has been referred to as “Muzak” (no offense to the owners of the trade name), mood music, lounge music, easy listening, middle-of-the-road or any other generic epithet which is the antithesis of anything ranging from Anthrax to ZZ Top, Aretha to ZZ Hill, America to Zebra.Mea culpa.Time for me to grow up, and to realize and understand that every single musician directed by the baton of Lawrence Welk was world-class. That Barney Kessel must be mentioned in the same breath as Jimmy Page. What Brad Miller brought to the (turn)table, via that weird mix of mood music and rainfall and thunder and, yes, steam trains, was sonic worth to rank with the best audiophile-grade sounds ever issued.
Among the tapes acquired in my bulk purchases wereOne Stormy Night(Philips PTX 600205) from 1966 andThe Mystic Moods of Love(Philips PTX 6260) recorded in 1968. The former is a 3-3/4 ips tape, the latter 7-1/2 ips. Ordinarily, when curating my tapes, unless it’s something like a Ray Charles or Beach Boys or Youngbloods album, I just let them play out in the background. The magic occurs when, from time to time, the sound is so extraordinary (in the true meaning of that word) that I stop what I am doing and cannot help but concentrate on what is being played.
Both of the Mystic Moods Orchestra tapes caused interruptions to my reveries, but it was only when filing them alphabetically that I grasped that the two were from the same performers, and on the same label. It was then that I was driven to study the liner notes, jarred by buzzwords such as “Buffalo Springfield” – enough to cause palpitations, as I rank that band only a whisper behind the Beatles – and that embodiment of superb recording, “Herb Alpert.” My eyes dropped down to see “Brad Miller” and “Mobile Fidelity.” The constraints of this being a family publication prevent me from quoting what I uttered aloud after the word “holy,” but it rhymes with “schmuck,” for that is what I had been.
It went on: Lincoln Mayorga. Earl Palmer. Victor Feldman. This was proving to be an unanticipated audiophile goldmine. I was ashamed that the Mystic Moods Orchestra had eluded me, for the musicianship and the sound quality were enough to earn Recordings of the Month, regardless of the publication.
How are these for audiophile liner notes to salivate over?
If acquiring humility is a reward – and surely that is a contradiction – consider me confused, enlightened and above all grateful. These two tapes, lost in the mists of time, proved as educational as any experiences I can recall in my 54-year journey as an audiophile. But even if the music wasn’t utterly transcendent, who could resist an album with a track called “Hot Bagel” followed by another aptly dubbed “Local Freight”? The bad news is that my completist nature means a craving for the Mystic Moods Orchestra’s other 20 recordings…
Surround sound, 1970s style. Who needs Ohm loudspeakers when you have this Zenith Circle of Sound radio? Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Joe Haupt.
He's listening to the Yankees versus the Giants, but why does it look like he's holding a fuzz box? From Radio News, October 1937.
"I am endeavoring, ma'am, to construct a mnemonic memory circuit using stone knives and bearskins." Actually, it's an Atwater Kent radio from 1924. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Daderot.
We know what she's thinking – "this thing is even harder to play in tune than a banjo!" From Electronics Illustrated, January 1961.
A cassette deck claimed to record digitally-encoded music with perfect fidelity? Call us skeptical! This 1980s Aiwa AD-F990 is very highly regarded, though.
On a recent trip to Southern California, I visited the Petersen Automotive Museum. It had the most impressive collection of cars that I have ever seen: three floors of everything from 19th-Century three-wheeled motorized buggies to up-to-the-minute multi-million-dollar supercars. There were prototypes from decades past, iconic Hollywood cars, clay mockups and more. If you want to pay an extra fee, you can see a separate underground “vault” containing even more special automobiles.
They had a special exhibit called “Best in Low: Icons of the Street & Show” that featured lowrider cars and motorcycles with truly stunning custom paint jobs and chrome work. This image is a detail of a 1958 Chevrolet Impala convertible that was slightly elevated over a mirrored tile floor, allowing a view of the impressive customized undercarriage.
We just can't resist making this a double Parting Shot: here's a photo of the whole...incredible...car.
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