You're absolutely right, Christian: I
do have the bug. I do! I'm not ashamed to admit it, though it does come as a small surprise. Next thing you know, I'll begin to wonder silly wonders:
1. Are all audiophiles music lovers?
2. Does music sound better on black CD-Rs?
3. Has this amplifier been subjected to double-blind testing?
4. What happened to my remote?
Anyway. Yesterday's goal was accomplished; I made it through all of June and halfway through July. So far, today, I've completed July. I'll begin August soon.
Usually, when I proofread a review, I don't get to enjoy the content much. I read the sentences, and, though the overall meaning does seep in, I'm basically concerned with periods and commas and line breaks — the superficial, the face, the outer body. Writing the blurbs for "Recommended Components," looking beyond the body and searching for
the soul of the review, requires a different kind of attention, and so, offers a deeper understanding of the component at hand.
This brings up another question: Can a review have a soul? I'm willing to shrug my shoulders and say: "Sure." But, then again, I'm a guy who talks to his food ("I love you, pizza.") and has a microwave oven named
Paolo Conte (aka "Happy Feet").
So it goes. If I love you for what you are and all that you do, I will name you and talk to you and be completely drawn into you, hoping to never ever
ever forget exactly what it is you are and
why I love you. As you can imagine, when I'm completely drawn into a review, I find myself going from that review to the manufacturer's website and from the manufacturer's website to a dealer. The natural progression would be from the dealer to my credit card, but I'm trying to pay off some debt, you know, and I have the fortunate position of "testing" this stuff for free.
Anyway. It happened yesterday. I was constructing the blurb for the
Musical Fidelity kW DM25 transport and DAC, when I got to the part of the review where Artie writes:
The DM25s' stereo imaging was nothing short of stellar, with spatial presentation that managed to be precisely detailed on the one hand, yet unfussy and organic sounding on the other.
And, my god, I
knew what he was talking about. More than that, I agreed! And, you know what that means: I had an opinion!
The funny thing is that, a couple years ago, I didn't have this problem. Problem. Listen to me. "Problem?"
It's not really a problem. It's a good thing. But, a couple of years ago, I blurbed like I proofread: detached. If I continue to get involved, I'm afraid it'll take me months to complete this task. And so:
1. Yes. Or, at least,
they once were. Until they forgot.
2. Sam Tellig thinks so.
3. Are you kidding me?
4. You're sitting on it. (And you're squishing its soul!)
