Denver: Friday, October 10 will be a day remembered by audiophiles for two things. It was the kickoff for 2008’s RMAF, an annual show open to consumers which spot-lights the best and the brightest in the high end audio scene. It will also be recollected for the trillion or so dollars in market valuation that was lost as the Dow rollercoastered in a one thousand point swing throughout that fateful day. That morning I watched hollow-eyed audio fans, distributors, designers and retailers entering the Denver Marriott their badges duly attached to suit lapels or hanging over their parkas. I commiserated with attendees–we were all shaking our heads, sighing, making statements like “Hasta La Vista 401K,” or….”I guess I won’t be retiring next year,” and so forth.
But at the same time, as I watched people slipping into an exhibitor’s room and begin taking in the music and the gear and the ambience and listen to the back and forth discussion about what this bit of technology imparts, something happened. Faces softened, handshakes and smiles were exchanged. What happened was what always happens when a loyal community with a shared purpose get together. The troubles of the outside world vanish. The subject of retirement accounts retreats into the shadows at least for a time. And if just for a few hours the world once again becomes all about music.
By Neil Gader
My love of music largely predates my enthusiasm for audio. I grew up Los Angeles in a house where music was constantly playing on the stereo (Altecs, if you’re interested). It ranged from my mom listening to hit Broadway musicals to my sister’s early Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Beatles, and Stones LPs, and dad’s constant companions, Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett. With the British Invasion, I immediately picked up a guitar and took piano lessons and have been playing ever since. Following graduation from UCLA I became a writing member of the Lehman Engel’s BMI Musical Theater Workshops in New York–working in advertising to pay the bills. I’ve co-written bunches of songs, some published, some recorded. In 1995 I co-produced an award-winning short fiction movie that did well on the international film-festival circuit. I was introduced to Harry Pearson in the early 70s by a mutual friend. At that time Harry was still working full-time for Long Island’s Newsday even as he was writing Issue 1 of TAS during his off hours. We struck up a decades-long friendship that ultimately turned into a writing gig that has proved both stimulating and rewarding. In terms of music reproduction, I find myself listening more than ever for the “little” things. Low-level resolving power, dynamic gradients, shadings, timbral color and contrasts. Listening to a lot of vocals and solo piano has always helped me recalibrate and nail down what I’m hearing. Tonal neutrality and presence are important to me but small deviations are not disqualifying. But I am quite sensitive to treble over-reach, and find dry, hyper-detailed systems intriguing but inauthentic compared with the concert-going experience. For me, true musicality conveys the cozy warmth of a room with a fireplace not the icy cold of an igloo. Currently I split my time between Santa Fe, New Mexico and Studio City, California with my wife Judi Dickerson, an acting, voice, and dialect coach, along with border collies Ivy and Alfie.
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