Analog Corner

Peter Ledermann's head rose from his Neumann SX-74 cutting lathe. He looked concerned. "The platter stopped turning the other day and I'm not exactly sure why," he said. "It started working again, but you know, these things are old..."

Normally, such a stoppage might mean only one lacquer lost during the transfer to disc of a tape or digital file, but on this day in late November, Ledermann was readying the lathe for a direct-to-disc recording session at the Soundsmith Corporation's headquarters in Peekskill, New York.

The musicians, led by classically trained, Cuban-born jazz pianist and composer Elio Villafranca, tinkered with the arrangements in the company's large showroom. In an adjacent room, Ledermann and his engineering team—Duke Markos, Mark Whitters, Craig Dick, and Rick Jacobsohn (whom Ledermann, in a Tim Tebow moment, told me the next day was sent at the last minute by God)—set about preparing the analog machinery and digital electronics that would capture the performances. Having all of this engineering power available was critical, Ledermann told me; it would allow him to focus on the lathe, which, he admitted, "could be more temperamental than me."

A videographer and her crew made their way around the room, capturing snippets of conversation in hopes of accumulating enough worthwhile high-definition footage to produce a 20-minute documentary about the sessions. Also manning an HD video camera was Peabody Award–winning radio and concert producer Jim Luce. While not officially part of this production team, Luce has long advocated Villafranca's music, and has done many sessions with engineer Markos—including the pilot of Strictly Vinyl, a radio show I host.

Meanwhile, in a room next to the control room, the project's executive producer and financial backer, the gregarious Robin Wyatt, importer of Miyajima Labs cartridges (among other audio gear; footnote 1), and his wife, Carol, awaited the countdown to the first attempt at recording with all the nervousness of expectant parents.

This was on a Monday. Turning the space into a recording studio had required half of Saturday and all of Sunday, included the maneuvering of a Steinway grand piano through an alarmingly narrow door. Wiring had to be run for the more than 15 active channels, sound barriers installed, computers configured with Pro Tools 9.0 and Tracktion 3 for the two digital multitrack recordings, and, because a stereo mix would be required for the direct-to-disc recording, that might as well be backed up to digital as well, so a DAT recorder and two Zoom H2 portable recorders were pressed into service.

Both the showroom and the room in which the Wyatts waited also needed to be wired, and equipment installed, for monitoring and instant playback. The roles played by the four engineers had to be coordinated and assigned, and food and drink for everyone ordered. And I'm sure all this was only a part of all that had to be done.

Meanwhile, the really important decisions—about the music—had been made about the arrangements and who would play them, and it was Villafranca's responsibility to work within Wyatt's generous production budget. Villafranca proposed, and Wyatt accepted, a sextet to accompany him on day one, and a quartet for day two. The musicians included veteran drummer Billy Hart, who's played with everyone from Otis Redding to Herbie Hancock; alto and soprano saxophonist Vincent Herring (Horace Silver, Roy Hargrove, Carla Bley, Wynton Marsalis, etc.); tenor saxophonist J.D. Allen III (Lester Bowie, Betty Carter, Jack DeJohnette, David Murray, etc.); bassist Gregg August (Ray Barretto, James Moody, etc.); trumpeter Bruce Harris; and percussionists Juango Gutierrez and Camilo Molina. Villafranca can be heard on his album Dynamic Resolution, with bassist Charles Flores, engineered by Markos and also cut by Ledermann, and available in mono and/or stereo vinyl through Acoustic Sounds (LP only, 16 Eyes A16E 001M/S/MS).

In short: a stellar team of musicians led by a remarkably creative, Grammy-nominated pianist, two great ensembles, and a topnotch engineering team, all making a direct-to-disc AAA recording. It was not to be missed.

When the engineering team was satisfied with the mike placements and mix levels and the musicians were ready, Ledermann removed an Apollo lacquer from its box, placed it on the lathe's platter, and the recording began.

I sat in the monitoring room with the Wyatts, Jim Luce, and the others. We heard Ledermann call out to Villafranca to begin—after a predetermined pause to give the lathe's stylus time to descend to the surface of the lacquer and cut the lead-in groove. Then the music erupted through the room's vintage monitor speakers: two large Brauns.

One of the biggest problems in making direct-to-disc recordings is musician inhibition. Everyone understands that one wrong note or banged mike stand can ruin an LP's entire side, so often the playing is cautious. But these guys didn't play it safe.

Day one's group comprised Allen, August, Gutierrez, Harris, Hart, and Molina. The music was a mix of straight-ahead bop and Afro-Cuban jazz flavored with Villafranca's lyricism. My only criticism was that tenor saxophonist Allen stood too far from the mike. Otherwise, musically and technically, that first side was explosive. If what I heard through those vintage monitors was any indication, the resulting album will be musically and sonically spectacular.

The septet cut four tunes that day: "Flower by the Dry River" (which would become the album's title tune), "The Unspeakable," "2 to Tango," and "Vibing." I couldn't stay much past that first lacquer, so I packed up and headed home, enjoying every hairpin turn and twist of the narrow, hilly road to Bear Mountain Bridge.

Ledermann e-mailed me a few days later to say that both days' sessions had gone extremely well. Day two featured Allen, August, Gutierrez, Harris, Hart, Herring, and Molina (the last only on the first tune). The group cut "Caribbean Tinge" (in a quartet setting), "Last Train to Paris," "Africa," and "The Big Plus." Day one's first lacquer—the only one I'd been present for—had had to be scrapped due to a technical glitch, but take 2 was even better, I was told.

Ledermann ended up shipping seven lacquers to the RTI pressing plant, in California for plating and pressing. Four lacquers will make up the two-LP set; a single 45rpm lacquer will be reserved for the later release of a single one-sided disc. Of course, seven lacquers minus five leaves two lacquers unaccounted for. I'll leave it to Ledermann to explain the mystery discs, should he care to.

Robin Wyatt bankrolled these sessions, the musicians agreed to take considerable cuts in their normal session fees, and everyone else volunteered their time and equipment. Once production costs have been recouped, most of the profits from this release on DirectGrace Records—a label founded by Ledermann to make "Recordings to Rescue Children"—will go to the John Herrick Jackson Memorial Foundation, which distributes grants, gifts, and loans to qualified groups that help keep children from being forced into slave labor, which remains a horrendous problem worldwide.

There can only be winners here, and that includes you and me when we buy a copy of Flower by the Dry River. I'm not sure when it will be released; look for it at Music Direct, Elusive Disc, and Acoustic Sounds.

Soundsmith Sussurro low-output moving-iron cartridge
The inspiration for the Soundsmith Sussurro ($4499; footnote 2) grew from a discussion Peter Ledermann had a few years ago at a hi-fi show, with tonearm designer Frank Schröder. The result is a moving-iron design (footnote 3) of unusually low output (0.3mV) and very low effective moving mass. The low effective mass means that the cartridge's damping system can also be lower in mass, because it has less mass to support and control. The result should be more retrieval and resolution of microdetail, which is the main reason moving-coil cartridges have supplanted moving-magnet designs: Coils have lower mass than magnets.

Ledermann says that each Sussurro is "critically tuned" to control all primary resonances. The generator system is then rigidly fixed within the magnetic structure, which is fully (six-sided) shielded. An unspecified system claimed to be "unique" then transfers the mechanical energy from the cantilever, through the cartridge's body, to the tonearm.

The wooden-bodied Sussurro has a ruby cantilever to which is affixed a line-contact diamond stylus with an "optimized contour." The compliance is low, at 10µm/mN, and the recommended tracking force is a moderate 1.8–2.2gm. The entire cartridge has a mass of 8.79gm, and except for some parts sourced from overseas, it's made in America by Peter Ledermann himself.

Soundsmith claims channel separation of more than 34dB at 1kHz, and more than 25dB from 50Hz to 15kHz, as well as a frequency response of 20Hz–20kHz, ±1.0dB. Impressive specs.

The Sussurro is intended to be used with an MC phono stage that can provide 60dB of gain. The loading is critical; if your MC stage has a fixed input load of 100 ohms or so, you really can't use it with the Sussurro—below 470 ohms, the cartridge's output is reduced and the high frequencies are severely rolled off. Soundsmith recommends a minimum of 470 ohms, with 1k–2k ohms optimal for most systems. This also presents problems for some transformer-based phono preamplifiers. If your phono preamp uses a step-up transformer, be sure the latter's input impedance is set to at least 500 ohms.

Unique Adjustability: When, at my seminars in turntable setup, I explain the importance of correct azimuth setting to maximize channel separation and minimize and equalize crosstalk, some owners of tonearms that don't permit that adjustment, particularly the SME V, become agitated.

If you can afford an SME V, you can probably also afford a top-of-the-line cartridge built and tested to produce the correct results with the cantilever sitting perpendicular to the record surface. That's why I tell my seminar attendees that, even if they can't adjust azimuth, it's worth measuring crosstalk with a voltmeter (as described in my DVD 21st Century Vinyl). If you've spent thousands on the cartridge and the reading you get is very asymmetrical, you're entitled to a better-built sample, in my opinion.

The Sussurro lets you adjust azimuth, vertical tracking angle (VTA), and stylus rake angle (SRA), all from the cartridge body. This means that you can optimize its performance for any tonearm, even one that doesn't provide a way of adjusting these parameters. However, the Sussurro's instructions caution that only if your tonearm lacks such adjustability, should you use the cartridge's built-in azimuth and VTA/SRA adjustments. The adjustments involve loosening an Allen screw and some tiny setscrews. There's no need to get into the specifics here, other than to say that because the adjustment screws are made to be difficult to turn, it's best to remove the cartridge from the tonearm for the final tightening.

Be prepared to go through the setup routine at least twice. But even if it's a pain to use these adjustments, it's better than not having them, as long as there's no price paid in terms of structural rigidity. The Sussurro's design seems to meet that criterion.

However, considering the Sussurro's cost, its instruction manual (stapled-together sheets of 8" by10" paper) is not particularly well presented, organized, or written, and its lack of diagrams or photos of the adjustment features doesn't help.

One thing cartridge makers frequently don't mention in their manuals is the cost of retipping, which often comes to half the cartridge's original price. Credit Soundsmith for mentioning this in the manual and, more important, for the low cost: assuming its cantilever is still sound, retipping a Sussurro costs a remarkably reasonable $350.

Setup, Use, Sound: As in the Ortofon A90, each of the Sussurro's threaded mounting holes terminates in a closed cup.Therefore, it's essential to use screws of the correct length. In this regard, the instructions are very well organized: They begin with a caution about screw length.

Because the Sussurro's stylus has a fairly severe profile, precise settings of overhang, zenith angle, and especially SRA and VTA, are mandatory. The manual says that VTA and SRA are correct when the top of the Sussurro's wooden body is parallel to the record surface, but that's very difficult to judge by eye. I set azimuth with a digital oscilloscope, and SRA (92°) with a USB microscope.

The manual recommends a minimum loading of 470 ohms, and ideally 1k–2k ohms. A loading of 47k ohms will work but will result in a high-frequency peak. I first tried the Sussurro into the 200 ohm load of Ypsilon's MC16 step-up transformer, and while the tonal balance wasn't starved for top end, I was sure that more was there, and I wanted it.

Fortunately I also had the Ypsilon MC20 on hand, which has a 500 ohm input impedance but somewhat less gain. That opened the top end considerably, and it's what I used for most of my listening, occasionally also using Soundsmith's own MCP2 phono preamp ($699.95), which I reviewed in October 2011. The MCP2's input impedance can be continuously varied, from 10 ohms to 5k ohms, by turning a knob. The MCP2 was no match for the Ypsilon VPS-100 in terms of sound, but if your assets are limited, it made a strong case for allocating most of your budget to the cartridge, and skimping on the electronics until you can afford to upgrade.

The first thing I noticed about the Sussurro was how quietly and smoothly it traced the groove, and how little hum and noise I heard. It was also a very fine tracker at 2.0gm. Despite the nude line-contact stylus, which extracted a great deal of information from the groove, with some discs it managed to bury in the noise floor surface noise that the Ortofon A90's Replicant stylus made obvious. While the A90 consistently produced more detail and retrieved more low-level information, the Sussurro gave up just a little of this detail, while making more LPs more listenable, and turning some with only marginal sound into full-out winners.

For instance, a few months ago I picked up, at the WFMU record convention, a copy of Just Friends, a fantastic direct-to-disc album by the L.A. 4: guitarist Laurindo Almeida, bassist Ray Brown, alto saxophonist Bud Shank, and drummer Jeff Hamilton (LP, Concord Jazz CJD-1001). Groove Note issued it from the backup tape a few years ago, but even at 45rpm it doesn't compare to the D2D. Through the Ortofon, the D2D was somewhat noisy, objectionably so at times—but almost miraculously, it sounded almost dead quiet through the Sussurro.

The Sussurro's balance of transients and texture was on the slightly lush, rich, soft side. Its harmonic palette was colorful and well saturated without being overripe, while its tonal balance was almost whatever I wanted it to be, depending on how carefully I trimmed its loading—as I could using the MCP2's variable loading control. I preferred to set this to 500 ohms; at 1 or 1.5k ohms, the Sussurru sounded too bright for my system and/or taste. Evidently the cartridge's top end was well extended and could be pulled down a bit—but if you like peaky and think that's "air," go for 47k ohms.

The Soundsmith's bottom end was well extended, if not as taut or as nimble as the Ortofon A90's or the Lyra Titan i's. But it was perfectly suited to the overall character of transients through the Sussurro; ie, was not sharply etched.

I couldn't have asked for wider soundstages than what the Sussurro produced, though I've heard deeper ones, with more back-of-stage definition and better delineation of reverberant trails; still, that kind of ultradefinition often comes at the expense of textural richness.

Where the Sussurro really excelled, and what made it so seductive, was in its fully fleshed out, opulent, but not overripe midrange. It had me just about sinking into a recent and stupendous-sounding reissue of Ray Charles and Betty Carter (ABC Paramount/Analogue Productions APP-385). The two voices sounded so fleshy and alive! You just have to learn to ignore the Jack Halloran Singers, who pop in to obtrusively—almost mockingly—repeat lines the duo have just finished singing. (Maybe they were there to reassure white folks in 1961, when this was first issued.) The downside of such midband richness was that it produced somewhat large and forward images that had a great deal of energy—where the human voice is. This will work better in some systems than in others, though the especially wide soundstages worked as an effective counterbalance.

The Sussurro's macrodynamic performance was very good, though not as good as the Ortofon A90's. Reference Recordings has gotten back into the vinyl game with a literal bang, releasing a stupendous recording of Stravinsky's The Firebird Suite and The Song of the Nightingale, with Eiji Oue conducting the Minnesota Orchestra (Reference RM-1502). Like every recording I've heard engineered by Keith O. Johnson, this one has tremendous dynamic range, including one bass-drum wallop that should shake your room and rattle your windows. The Sussurro did a very good job with this, but didn't produce quite the A90's visceral impact, or quite its tautness in the very bottom end—but it matched well and appropriately the Sussurro's overall demeanor.

Unless you really like lushness, I recommend pairing the Sussurro with a somewhat lean solid-state rather than a tubed phono preamp. I'd be more inclined to recommend the Sussurro without reservation to lovers of jazz and classical music than to rockers, though its overall sound was far more all-purpose, and its tonal balance more neutral, than those of some other cartridges I could mention.

Even into Soundsmith's own MCP2, the Sussurro demonstrated that the transducer is the key. Carefully setting the loading eliminated a tendency toward brightness and a bit of hardness, though the imaging was less than precise, with a slight hollowness and metallic/electronic overlay to the overall sound when compared to a ridiculously expensive Ypsilon phono preamp. But if I had $5000 and change to play with, I'd spend $4499 of it on the Sussurro and $699.95 on the MCP2, rather than split the money evenly between a cartridge and a phono preamp, or put more into the electronics.

Summing Up: The Sussurro is a unique cartridge for its range of adjustments and the fact that it's a low-output moving iron. It traced the grooves quietly and tracked them very well. It wasn't the last word in resolution of detail, but it came very close. Most important, its tonal balance was pleasingly neutral, slightly accenting midrange lushness. If you listen to mostly acoustic music and your tastes run toward warmth and lushness, but with plenty of detail and a robust top end, you can't go wrong with the Soundsmith Sussurro.

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Sidebar: In Heavy Rotation

1) The Beach Boys, SMiLE, Capitol 180gm LPs (2)

2) Wayne Shorter, The Soothsayer, Blue Note/Music Matters 45rpm 180gm LPs (2)

3) Tony Joe White, Homemade Ice Cream, Warner Bros./Analogue Productions 180gm LP

4) Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here, Harvest 180gm LP

5) Stravinsky, The Firebird Suite, The Song of the Nightingale (Eiji Oue, Minnesota Orchestra), Reference 180gm LP

6) The Black Keys, El Camino, Nonesuch 180gm LP

7) Brahms, Piano Concerto 1 (Clifford Curzon, George Szell, London Symphony Orchestra), London/Decca/ORG 45rpm 180gm LPs (2)

8) Gene Clark, Gene Clark, A&M/Sundazed 180gm LP

9) Various Artists, Lucca Jazz Donna Festival, Vol.1, Soundfan 180gm LP

10) James Taylor, Dad Loves His Work, Columbia/Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab 180gm LP

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Footnote 1: Robyatt Audio. Web: www.robyattaudio.com.

Footnote 2: Soundsmith, 2A John Walsh Boulevard, Site 1 Bldg., Peekskill, NY 10566. Tel: (914) 739-2885. Web: www.sound-smith.com

Footnote 3: See my review of the Soundsmith SMMC1 phono cartridge in April 2008 for an explanation of what differentiates moving-iron cartridges from the more common moving-magnet and moving-coil designs.