Vintage

You don’t have to be a marketing analyst with a subscription to the Financial Times to understand why SACD might win the format war. Clearly, the SACD crew has delivered more hardware and (most importantly) in the order of ten times more software than DVD-Audio, according to the estimates of music vendors I’ve canvassed. All of which makes the arrival of a high-end SACD player with a mid-range price point something worth considering.

Blame Stanley Kubrick. Until 2001 burst onto our cinema screens, the lay conception of outer space had settled down as a mixture of flying saucers and little green men. Why green? Why little? But this was irretrievably displaced by an alien ex machina presence that set the style for, yes, the shape of electrostatic loudspeakers to come.

Illustrative of a ‘new wave’ in both the mechanical design and ergonomics of early-1970s turntables, Braun’s fully automatic PS 450 was an idler-drive of some distinction

Braun’s hi-fi activities are little known in the UK, although the company’s Regie 510 and Regie 350 receivers have been featured in previous Vintage Reviews [HFN Jun ’16 & Apr ’17]. At its peak, the Braun hi-fi range was as broad and as sophisticated as that of any rival manufacturer, in addition to the kitchen, personal care and photographic equipment that the company also produced. Unlike some, Braun designed and manufactured its own turntables and these were engineered to the very highest of standards.

This review deals with two first-generation DCC players. Philips and other companies are committed to this medium, to judge from the fast expanding list of pre-recorded software, if not in the range of hardware to match. DCC will certainly not oust CD: it is better to think of it as a stepping stone between analogue compact cassette and the digital audio systems of the future – systems that must surely avoid the cumbersome format of tape. But for the time being, these machines may be counted a success.

True story: a knowledgeable audiophile arrives at my listening room in mid-November. Pink Triangle’s Integral integrated amplifier is driving a set of Wharfedale Diamond 8.1s, its badge covered with tape. I state to this collector of some repute with a memory spanning 35 years, ‘You will never guess who made this amplifier. Never’.

In the vinyl heyday of the 1970s and 1980s, differences between UK-designed turntables, and those arriving from Japan, were stark. The suspended subchassis belt-drive decks, popular among British audiophiles, showcased increasing refinement of a ‘traditional’ technology. Japanese corporations, on the other hand, were making use of large research departments and development budgets to produce decks that could correct for off-centre records, direct-drive motors with almost unmeasurable wow and flutter, and control systems with huge torque that would revolutionise DJ-ing.

The mini/micro system craze was one of the Japanese electronics industry’s last great flourishes of the 1970s. Aiwa joined with Technics, Toshiba (Aurex) and Mitsubishi in producing tiny equipment with the same (or better) performance than many full-sized units, the contention being that improved component miniaturisation meant large boxes were no longer needed.