December 2002, 6moons visit Part 2
I'll preface this with an explanation. Jim had brought back some next-generation EPS powercords from the New York City event. He'd installed them the night before my arrival and left everything powered up so they would settle in.
When we started my audition, he seemed a bit nervous. Insecure. Since we began with some of his cuts, I didn't immediately enter hyper-critical reviewer's mode. Instead, I tried to first inhale the overriding whiff - of his system's core aroma. You know what they say about first reactions. They're usually the sharpest, least mind-filtered of all.
My very first impression then? The speakers vanished to a truly spooky extent. This included not only the proverbial dissolution of the side- and front walls, which you'd expect to some extent or another. It also included a potent, highly unusual sense that someone had lifted off the roof above. I distinctly remember this puzzling physical question. "Where's the ceiling?" With my eyes closed, I attempted to obtain an aural signature of the room. I couldn't. Nothing. There was very tacit recording venue data, yes - but none that portrayed the room itself. It had been entirely subtracted from the listening equation!
This "no speaker!" sensation was uncanny. Moreover, it was exceedingly tactile. That was clearly the result of meticulous setup. As I found out, along Jim's favored coordinates of the quintessential speaker/listening-chair triangle: Speaker-to-speaker distance = 0.83 x speaker-to-listener distance. This formula, depending on room, also includes placing the listener's chair ever so slightly off-center. It avoids bass-wave cancellation from the sidewalls at their halfway meeting point - the middle. In short, Jim had banished from my awareness all reminders of mechanical sound sources and actual versus virtual environs.
The second realization? Seamless bass integration. I could clearly follow each note to delight in its lowdown reach and delineation. But for this assessment I had to divorce my attention from the remainder of the goings-on. Become the audio police. That's how inconspicuously part and parcel the lower register was from all the others.
This too indicated a masterful understanding, this time of properly applied acoustic principles. Smith clearly understands how very long wavelengths interact with a rectangular environment whose first boundary occurs within a shorter distance than is necessary to fully develop the actual wavelengths of sub-40Hz bass.
Since I wasn't familiar with any of Jim's tracks, I didn't possess an internal gauge of reference. I simply enjoyed the music. I nestled into its tangible sense of ease, presence and clarity. Hoping for some feedback, I still played it a bit evasive with Jim. I first had to spin some discs of my own before feeling qualified to make any critical assessments in such a short period.
But already those first two items -- the utter muteness of room and speakers, as condition and source of sound respectively -- had obliterated whatever secret twinge of doubt I may still have harbored. About Jim's self-professed obsession and implied mastery, with and of extreme setup protocol. I'd been around audio long enough. I could spot top-shelf expertise when it hit me over the head with a sledgehammer.
Whatever you may think about the potential demerits of ad-based self-promotion, in this case reality and perception truly did converge. I thought of those ubiquitous parallax lines draftsmen use to foreshorten perspective. Every single one always meets in that hidden point.
My own music tends to favor complex rhythmic patterns, percussive spunk and explosive transients. As soon as we cued up the first cut, I sensed a certain tameness of mien. Renauld Garcia-Fons' monstrous 5-string upright bass had lost a certain impact, weight and growl. His violent spiccatto passages didn't convey enough rhythmic urgency, incisiveness and tension. Unhinged Gipsy vocals of subsequent Flamenco tracks lacked some of the metallic tinge of their emphasized harmonics. Ditto for a clarinet that sounded more rotund and less incensed than I knew it. Subdued virility, slightly shadowed sparkle on top.
 Time to share notes with Jim. Halfway through, he nodded his head in sad but obvious agreement. Before confirming any details, he called up his wife from below. "Tell Srajan exactly what I told you - about the sound this morning before I picked him up."
In her own non-audiophile but clearly descriptive words, Pam confirmed my personal impressions. By extension, she validated Jim's own prior assessment. No wonder he had seemed a mite perturbed and tense. 'Twas the typical caught-in-the-limelight-with-your-fly-open scenario. The kind I had suffered on multiple occasions during tradeshows, when reviewers waltzed in to be impressed. "Do me - I can take it." And that's when you knew how far from your best you were. Ouch!
But this wasn't the races. This was two music lovers well aware of the dangers of last-minute system changes. I knew this intimately. Jim knew that I understood. Still. I had come on "official" business as publisher of 6moons. Jim was the consummate professional, uncomfortable with the quality of his demo despite sensing that I'd have no ax to grind. I would have gladly assured him. But then his self-chastisement forbade it. Never rain on a man's innate sense of pride!
He confided that the sound -- from between leaving for New York to coming back -- had suffered a dramatic backwards step. Could it be those three new Dave Elrod powercords? Did they simply need more time to stabilize? Could Dave have overdone his AudioDharma CableCooker break-in? Jim recalled something about 4 days. That struck me as exceeding the manufacturer's recommendation by a long shot. Overcooked linguine = mush. Overcooked cables = soggy timing?
Only one way to find out. Would I terribly mind if he swapped out these brand-new cords for his customary Elrod cords? Certainly not.
Ah. Major improvement. Instant gratification! Welcome back boogie factor. My tracks resumed their familiar wildness of character, again displayed that energetic expression of Gipsy abandonment that twists my noodle. Jim was visibly relieved. He finally relaxed into himself, seeming far less unsettled and perturbed. Still, at the end of the session and before the interview, he declared that we were missing about 15% of the complete magic he's used to getting.
Based on what I did hear -- and which I quantified the moment I returned home to power up my own system -- I'm very comfortable with the following conclusions:
Even at slightly less than presumably its very best, Jim Smith's fabled system in Atlanta is one of -- if not the -- most compelling, refined and sophisticated setups I've yet heard in my ongoing career as a repenting audiophile and unrepenting music lover. On balance against my own, it strikes me as voiced slightly more towards richness, cream and vocal warmth. Mine pursues bite and attack to a small but noticeably farther extent.
The general feel or gestalt of our systems? Astoundingly similar. As though cut from the same cloth in fact. Considering the main constituents, that wasn't entirely surprising. While mine soundstages/disappears very well, Jim's does so in an outrageously spectacular fashion. There's an added dimension and ease to his presentation that pronounces a higher level of refinement. Elegance. Sophistication. Utter enchantment… |
1. CES 2000 | 
Srajan Ebaen comments: I dislike "Best Sound of Show" attempts for one simple reason. To these ears, there are different flavors of sound, styles of presentation. Some emphasize transparency, a light, fleet sound. Others go for a silken refinement, most often represented by the SET brigade. Others go for resolution and focus. Yet others opt for the visceral adrenaline rush. 
…On the Albuquerque return leg of my recent trip to NYC, I stopped over in Atlanta to enjoy the hospitality of Jim Smith. As already recounted in twin installments in this industry features column, Smith had invited me to cover the Grand Opening of Avantgarde's latest showroom on the East Coast. 
