The February 2010 issue of
Stereophile is now on newsstands. What do you think of the cover? I like it more than any cover we’ve done since
the October 2009 issue, which featured the lovely
Zu Essence speaker. The styling of the current cover may seem a bit soft and feminine (for
Stereophile), but I think it’s elegant and graceful, like the speaker it frames. Vienna Acoustics’ Kiss is a beautifully finished three-way design with an integral stand. It uses a 1" silk-dome tweeter coincident with a 7" proprietary Spider-Cone midrange and a 9" Spider-Cone woofer. Wes wanted to make out with it. Can you blame him? He wrote: “The Kiss was exquisitely capable of revealing the emotional core of every type of music I played through it.”
And isn’t that what we’re after? Aren’t we all trying to get closer to an emotional core?
Well, some of us are. Not all.
I’ve said before that I judge audio components by how well they succeed in inspiring my search for new music. That is, a good component compels me to discover all kinds of new music, keeps me up late at night, has me spending my last dollar on records. A poor component does not. If a $60,000 amplifier leaves me uninterested in discovering new music, then it sucks, no matter how well it supposedly performs. What a shame! On the other hand, if a used $60 cassette deck drives me to discover all kinds of great new sounds, then it is an outstanding component. You see?
Unfortunately, there are no reviews of outstanding $60 cassette decks in the February issue of
Stereophile. There are, however, many great reviews of many unambiguously fine products—some affordable to all (Spin Clean’s Record Washing System, Audio-Technica’s ATH-M50s headphones, Pro-Ject’s Debut III turntable), others affordable to some (Wilson Audio’s Sophia, Concert Fidelity’s Phono Equalizer, Playback Designs’ MPS-5 SACD player).
But I’d like to put all of this aside. I’m late with this particular entry, anyhow, and if you want to know what’s been reviewed in the magazine, you can take a look at the table of contents. I’m more interested in discussing my favorite feature of the year: “
Records To Die For.”
For “Records To Die For,” we ask each of our contributing editors to name two of their favorite albums and explain what makes those albums so special. Why are you so passionate about Rush? Tell me!
I love it. I love it because I love music and I love it because I love passion. Even if your object of passion confounds me, I will invariably feel privileged to be let in on it. I’ll get all tingly and excited. Because passion is soulful, intimate, and compelling, it is raw and provocative: It lives and feeds and cures. So, for “Record To Die For,” I selected Vivian Girls’
Everything Goes Wrong and Ramses III’s
I Could Not Love You More.
I wrote about
my experience with the Vivian Girls in October. It was something I’ll never forget. And it’s true that when I listen to the album, I’m brought closer to that memory, as if the music allows me to travel through time.
I Could Not Love You More represents a different sort of thing. I have no personal history with the album, other than through the album itself; no emotional connection to it, other than what it makes me feel when I listen. Interesting. I heard
I Could Not Love You More for the first time in my own home, seated comfortably and calmly—not, for instance, while driving along some highway with a woman by my side or in some club surrounded by friends and strangers. Moreover, I discovered the album on my own. No one told me about it—not even a girl. In fact, there are no girls in the story of my relationship with
I Could Not Love You More, at all, except for the one I imagine someday playing it for. Weird, right? Every time I play the album, I find myself wishing I wasn’t alone, find myself wishing that I was accompanied by some loving woman. Weird, right?
In my original entry for the “Record To Die For” piece, I wrote:
Would you like to hear something extremely beautiful? Here, let me play this for you… I eventually deleted the second sentence of that opening because it felt
too intimate, but it’s exactly what I think to myself every time I play the record. I sit in my apartment, by myself, imagining that I’m playing records for someone else. What’s up with that? Am I sort of crazy?
Maybe, a little.
Today I received a letter from a reader. He was so moved by my review of
I Could Not Love You More that he went out and bought the album. Can you believe that? In terms of music reviewing, I can’t think of a greater compliment. Turned out, though, that he hated it. In fact, he felt ripped off. Judging by his letter, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that his hatred of the album transformed into a sort of hatred of
me. Sadness. After thinking about it for a few moments, however, I decided that everything was okay. I am right to love this album as much as I do, and this fellow is right to hate it. It’s only unfortunate that he would feel compelled to spread his sorrow.
I replied:
I'm pleased that you were inspired to buy the album, but sorry that you didn't like it. I do love it, and I do think it's extremely beautiful. Maybe, after a second or third listen, you'll come to appreciate what I hear. For instance, when listening to "No Water, No Moon," I perceive an exquisite depth of emotion, an aching sadness combined with an undying hope. That they've managed to convey these things, and that they've done it with simple plucked strings and tape loops and the human voice, is, to me, a miracle. Yeah, I think it's miraculous [I should have said fucking miraculous] that humans are capable of such profound beauty.
Listening to this record on the hi-fi always puts me in a great mood. I'm sorry it didn't do the same for you. Maybe you'll listen again and still think I'm full of it. Oh well. That's sort of beautiful, too.
Thanks for reading Stereophile.
I’m happy with that response, obviously. But I’m wondering: What do you think of this issue’s “Records To Die For” feature? Did we include any albums that you also own and love? If so, why do you love them? Did you feel compelled to buy any of the albums included in our list? Are there any albums we missed this time around?
Thinking again about the reader’s letter, I now wonder if we all
are trying to get closer to some emotional core. (Some of our cores are just really, really deep down in there. Somewhere.)
