Tom Fine

The marriage of little streaming computers to DACs was at first a shotgun thing, a way to add Swiss Army knife capabilities at a price point. That was back when it was cutting-edge to have a NAS server full of digital files on the home network, and when commercial streaming was new, primitive, and lossy. Remember Pandora? Cool idea, but who wants to sit through ads and not be able to skip over more than a handful of disliked tunes every hour. Then Spotify came along. Then Apple and Amazon jumped in, and that's all she wrote. Eventually, streaming even got around to us audiophiles who desired lossless audio of at least CD resolution. Viva Qobuz!

The EXN100 is Cambridge Audio's state-of-the-art streaming DAC. It's half of the new EX line; the other half is the EXA100 integrated amplifier.

Rhino Records started in 1978 as an eclectic indie label specializing in compilations and offbeat reissues. Its emblem was a scowling rhinoceros-human hybrid with a record spinning on the tip of its horn. Time Warner acquired the label during the 1990s, and today Warner Music uses it as its chief nonclassical reissue vehicle.

As a back-catalog label, Rhino was active early in the vinyl revival—and it continues to be. Rhino quickly learned that a popular older album, when released as a high-quality physical artifact—whether it's an LP, a CD box, a multichannel Blu-ray audio disc, or a combination of formats—engages fans more than merely dropping a new remaster onto streaming. I spoke with Rhino's president, Mark Pinkus, about the company's three-tier vinyl strategy soon after the company announced the third of those tiers, a new, lower-priced all-analog vinyl line called Rhino Reserve.

What if there was a character in Stanley Kubrick's classic movie 2001: A Space Odyssey who was an audiophile? Aboard the Discovery One interplanetary space ship, what would his system look like? He'd probably have a pair of ultramodern speakers that could pluck sound out of the ether. He'd control the system with something like a present-day smartphone or tablet, commanding the HAL 9000 computer to play his favorite songs. The speakers would stand unobtrusively in a white room with 1970s modern-minimalist furniture, no rack of components to drive them, no wires connecting them, no shelves of physical media to play. And they would fill the room with music.

I am sitting earthbound in my living room almost a quarter-century beyond the year 2001, living a similar scenario with the Focal Diva Utopia streaming amplified wireless speaker system. My living room is not at all reminiscent of the Discovery One with its rotating central interior (footnote 1). But with the Diva Utopia system, I feel more in a sci-fi future young me might have imagined than with any hi-fi component I've reviewed so far. About the only thing the Diva Utopia has in common with the stereo systems I grew up with—and with my current reference system—is two floorstanding cabinets and diaphragms that move air to make sound.

Before the bits and bytes, before the streams, the music business and its most talented artists, producers, and engineers conjured up a notion of musical-sonic holiness: the perfect album side.

Remember albums? The idea is quaint in the era of streaming, a time of "summer songs," one-hit wonders, meme songs, song snippets on TikTok, songs tied to viral videos, robot-generated playlists, and whatnot. Those of us older than the World Wide Web itself, we remember albums. They were 12" slices of happiness, sadness, escape, epiphany—all the feelings.

Here's a hard truth: A written review of a full-sized speaker—any speaker, really—is, at best, semi-useful. We all listen differently, we have different musical tastes, our system electronics are different, and our listening rooms vary a lot. You will gain a general picture of a speaker's capabilities and foibles from John Atkinson's measurements, and I can tell you how the speakers sound to me, in my room. But that's it. You need to hear them for yourself before making a buying decision. The best I can do is tell you how my music brain felt when the speakers were in my house and making music.

But hey, that's better than nothing. If you're in the market for a pair of modestly sized, reasonably priced floorstanding loudspeakers, I encourage you to read on as I describe the lively musical times I spent with the Sonus faber Sonetto V G2s ($6499/pair).

Calling Elvis Presley the king of rock'n'roll may seem hyperbolic today, but that's what he was during 21 years in the hot pop culture spotlight. His recording career began and ended in his hometown of Memphis. From a bright cultural comet heralding something new to a depressed drug addict mailing in middling performances from his mansion's den, Sony's box set, Memphis, captures all his home-turf recording sessions.

The Internet of Things has arrived at the stereo rack. Many hi-fi systems are now connected to the wider world, controlled by phones and tablets. Complex front panels with many switches and buttons have practically vanished; those still around are retro pieces or style statements. Little front-panel touchscreens with complex menu trees have been rendered vestigial or at least redundant. Designers of receivers, integrated amplifiers, and DACs must now at least consider incorporating a streaming module and a device-control app. In certain component categories and certain price brackets, a built-in app-controlled streamer is now a key part of the value proposition, much as a tuner was back in the days of terrestrial radio.

The Hegel H400 combines the functions of an integrated amplifier, DAC, and streamer.