Herb Reichert

In my studio, I have a hand-sized wood box. It is the soundbox of an African musical instrument with a small internal volume, a pencil-sized sound hole, a bent steel bridge, and an array of eight steel wires with flattened ends—a keyboard. It is called a mbira . . . you can buy a spiffy varnished mbira at Walmart, where it is called a "Kalimba."

Last year, I reported on Stax's glamorous new SR-007S electrostatic earspeakers ($2390) in conjunction with the Stax SRM-700S driver amplifier. This report was extra fun because I was just finishing up a long romantic affair with a loaner pair of vintage Stax SR-Omegas about which, in his 1995 Stereophile review, Tom Norton declared: "If you want the truth, however—at least as honestly as I've heard it in any headphones—you want the Stax SR-Omegas."

When auditioning a new audio component, I invariably start with some ideas about what I should listen for, based on my preconceptions about the pitfalls and propensities of products in its category. For example, with digital, I'm listening for sound that's awake and unprocessed. With every component, I start by hoping I can spot their colorations and assess their level of importance.

Lord knows I try to keep an open mind, but those good-measuring delta-sigma chip DACs rub me the wrong way. Their processing complexity vexes my mind, and there's never been a reconstruction or upsampling filter that I've been a fan of. Nevertheless, I believe that every audio component must be judged by how it sounds and feels in use.

The first thing I noticed about the LAiV Audio GaNM monoblock amplifier is its unusual shape and size; it occupies space differently than the other, more basic amplifiers on my rack. The GaNMs sat there giving off a megalithic vibe.

Last night, I sat on a bright yellow velveteen sofa eating red beans and rice while listening for three hours to blues and jazz from rare 78rpm records. I walked out feeling gospel-level raised up, with a head full of dreams and cultural memories.

My DACs are taking naps. I have not played music from a digital source in at least 12 weeks. I'm having too much fun playing records from the '50s and '60s with period-correct phono cartridges and listening to 100-year-old 78s at the Hot Club of New York.