Jana Dagdagan

Picture your typical high-end audio manufacturer.

It can be a spontaneous, self-generated hybrid of black shapes, brushed metals, and varying wooden finishes. You need not limit yourself to a single component or a single manufacturer. Whatever comes to mind first, really.

Got it?

Now picture the exact opposite of that.

We all live with earwax. Some more than others, but none of us are immune.

A buildup of excess wax can potentially cause blockage, tinnitus, an infection, or worse: sudden or partial loss of hearing! (Whatever you do, do not Google image search "earwax buildup.") To the average human, a temporary reduction in hearing is an inconvenience. But to the average audiophile, a temporary reduction in hearing could very well mean fatality. (Said in Mortal Kombat fashion.)

When Rocky Mountain Audio Fest 2016 (RMAF)—the hot hi-fi rager of the Wild West—came to its close, I had one more official stop to make: YG Acoustics.

Located just 30 minutes from Denver in the city of Arvada, is the YG Acoustics facility—including the factory, showroom, and offices. Much like most factories, the exterior is an unassuming vanilla casing, with no evidence of the flavorful, no-compromise, high-tech, high-end speakers living (and being brought to life) inside.

Herb and Jana were visiting me in Albany, NY, at the 1936 semi-mock-Tudor house I now call home. The real star of this video is my dog, Chatter Dudley, an 8-year-old Jack Russell Terrier with a fierce fondness for Herb Reichert (they had met once before), and who had Jana Dagdagan saying, by the end of the day, "I wish I had a dog." Unfortunately, the cameras weren't running when Chatter took a running leap to sit next to Herb while he was on the couch, listening to the blue-vinyl version of Puente Celeste's Nama.

Some say audiophiles have no sense of humor. One well-known writer for another magazine even lectured John Atkinson a while back that "there is no place for humor in audio!" So here is audiophile humor at its best, brought to you by Stereophile writers Herb Reichert (left) and Steve Guttenberg (right).

In this video I profile New York-based tube electronics technician Blackie Pagano, who fixes and upgrades "anything that makes or passes music and utilizes vacuum tubes." I first learned of Blackie when looking for a repairman to take my Fisher 800-C to. JA, Herb, and everyone I asked said—without hesitation—"You have to take it to Blackie. He's the best for the job."

"Punch me."

"What?"

Conversations with Tim Lefebvre are often like this. That was backstage at the Jazz Standard last week after the Donny McCaslin Group's final set. I later realized that Tim wanted me to be in a compilation of timelapse video clips involving slow motion punches. Naturally, I gladly obliged.