Not too many I guess. Quality does have that peculiar way of broadcasting itself across quite some distance. Still, it is nice to have representation in the major markets.
I'm happy to say that we did find some truly excellent dealers. But in general, they were not the dealers that, had you asked me 5 or 6 years ago, would have been on my list based on their reputation and my rapport with them then. Those fellows were all worn out now. They were in the box-moving mode. And before you assume that's meant disparagingly - there's nothing wrong with being in the box-moving business. If that's your calling. If that's what you're truly about.


But here was my problem. It's not rational to spend $18,000 on a pair of speakers. That's a totally irrational, crazy, off-the-rocker notion. So you've got to give people a reason to make such an irrational decision. It would be nice if you could give a convincing presentation, create a memorable, gripping, unforgettable experience. But I rarely ever came across a demo I liked. Much less one I was blown away by.


We did find some good dealers over time and have added more since. There's still room for a select few. But many of the so-called players in this industry? I doubt they'll ever become dealers for us. They're still pursuing what they already did wayback when. And I'm not chastising anyone. If you're successfully pushing tons of popular trophy HiFi and writing a strong consistent business - why should you fix something that clearly ain't broke?


As a buisnessman, I don't blame you one wit. Yes, as a self-styled visionary, I might find you lacking in inspiration. But I certainly couldn't in good conscience question your business acumen. So it was really quite black'n'white. The dealers who had specialized in selling the old concept --who had embraced or even come to crave the attendant colorations of wide-dispersion low-sensitivity speakers -- they were never going to accept or get what we were trying to do.


It reminds me of the terrible traffic here in Atlanta. If you have two passengers, you get to ride in the HOV lane. It overtakes all those albatrosses in the bumper-to-bumper lanes selling outmoded ideals about inefficient low-impedance speakers requiring amplifiers that, in my opinion, are boring and without soul even though they may well be awfully precise and accurate - like a master tax accountant. So here I am zipping down my single lane. I contemplate the six lanes over yonder committed to the old stuff. What's worse, everyone behind them's forced to go slow just because they are. These traffic-holder-uppers are blocking people's ability to move forward with their lives. And guess who's stuck behind 'em? The would-be music lovers who can't get into the HOV lane.


I really resent that. It pains me deeply to see it. Whenever we do seminars and listening clinics to introduce our concept, I ask the audience whether they have any idea why we would be in the highly questionable venture of selling broken goods. What? How many of them had heard that horns honk and suffer bad breath (grins) - bad colorations?


Usually about 2/3 of them raise their hand. Sometimes the whole lot. To which I retort "then why are y'all here? Did you commit your Saturday afternoon to suffer lousy distortion?" By now they realize I'm just kidding around. Now I will say something straight from the heart that flies past most of them like an arrow in the dark. "We're here to change your lives. Give back music to you as the gift it was meant to be. In the next 30 to 40 minutes, you will traverse a whole range of emotions - happiness, exuberance, sadness, even tears. You deserve to have all of these emotions. If you only get them from going to live concerts, you're being deprived... This is about changing your lives, not about acquiring more transparent sound systems."


And I know full well what many in the audience are thinking by now. I'm just this cornball, doe-eyed salesguy hawking his wares the good-old-fashioned warm'n'fuzzy way. But then we play our music. And of course some people won't get it. Hey, if everyone did, there'd be one product for everybody. One only. But there's always a surprising number of people who come up to me afterwards. They'll all say things to the effect of "thank you for explaining to me why I need to be doing this. Whether I get your speakers or not, I had never really thought about it this way. I've been on the wrong side of the track all along, haven't I?"


I'm now starting to see comments in the on-line audio chatrooms. More and more people are getting the same idea. This whole marriage, to all these audiophile terms we've been convinced are so essential; this whole fascination with all these things espoused in most equipment reviews... (drifts off groping for the proper punchline) ...


Do you realize that we usually don't have a clue about how a reviewer felt when he was listening to his equipment? Did the music wash over him like a force of nature? Did he feel joy, exhilaration? Was he energized or bored to tears? Not a word. I think that's very very wrong.


We've been wrestling with the notion of how this particular message might be gotten across more effectively. Now that Bob's opened his doors in Manhattan -- and the only reason he did that is because he got it, he really got it and was so fired up about it -- we will spend more time with our dealers to assure that they have a transcendental experience with our speakers. How else could they facilitate this transcendental experience for others? And if we were talking a different language -- if they're not getting us and we're not getting them -- perhaps we're in the wrong dealer in that instance. And it would certainly behoove us and them to find out sooner than later if that were the case.
You're talking open emotions on the salesfloor? You mushy, touchy-feely wuss you.
You bet. Two weeks ago, a man was sitting in the very chair you're sitting in now. He was going through a very difficult emotional time in his life. I happened to know about it so I was particularly sensitive to his state. I eventually asked whether I could play him a sad song. I just had that sense that he might get affected. And he said "Sure, I'm okay, that's fine" - as if he had it all compartmentalized. I had gone through what he was going through now at an earlier time in my own life. I knew full well that he didn't have it all that neatly stashed away just a short month later.


But I played the song. He seemed to be handling it fairly well. I could tell from his body language that he was completely immersed in the experience. And then it happened during the last piece. He cracked up. He cried. He cried for 10 minutes. Openly. Unapologetically. He needed this catharsis so badly. And this deep release happened with a music system, in the presence of a complete stranger. We're both pretty straight-laced types not inclined to display overt emotional behavior in front of strangers! And he would be the fourth man in the last year who's openly cried in this room. Such is the power of music. And to get back to our topic, we have messed it up, completely lost sight of it.
Gail Perazzini "Imaginations Rapture"

So I may become a little bit more proactive about inviting people here who don't enjoy a local dealer. If there are people in dem desolate audiophile hinterlands; if they toy with the notion that there ought to be more to audio than they've come across thus far; if they wonder whether what we're talking about could be the ticket, the keys to the kingdom ... I want them to come here. I'll even pay for it. Though I must confess that of those who've come thus far, hardly anyone let me pay their fare. They outright refused. (Laughs.)


We'll be attempting to extend our mission outreach as best we can. My highest desire is to find more dealers who want to become part of our little rebellion against emotional mediocrity, who get it and want to spread the good news. That's what I would really like. But I'm growing increasingly skeptical that it'll happen on the scale I'd like to see. I want dealers on fire. If you came into their shop, you should get singed a bit. The reason that people shop around, on price and for dealers? Their expecatations have fallen so terribly low. It's come down to nickels and dimes. Even I go into a shop and expect to have a bad experience. I fully set myself up to be disappointed. Works like a charm most of the time, too.


There's a hierarchy of dealers. It works like this. Assuming you found a dealer who could reliably demonstrate the performance and value of what he sells - will he deliver it to you? If so, will he bother to hook it up? If so, will he recognize if it doesn't sound as good as it should? If he does, will he know how to fix it? And if he knows how to fix it, will he feel compelled to stay -- or come back -- until it sounds as good as he knows it's capable of even though the customer is already in heaven, thanking him most profusely? Does he refuse to accept this premature crown by insisting "but I'm not satisfied yet, watch this..."? Does he stays until he feels the results truly worthy of his calling it a job well done? That's the kind of dealer I want.


In the bygone days when all of us knew how to set up turntables in our sleep, our customers wouldn't purchase even something as mundane as a stylus cleaner without checking with us first. It wouldn't have crossed their minds. Anything at all occuring in that arena of their lives -- sound and music -- they'd come to us in the same instant you and I would see the dentist if something went south with our teeth or gums.


Today, that's largely gone by the wayside in audio. So I ask you again: Who's killed that? The customers? Surely not. They're still visiting the graveyard crying for what's been lost. The dealers have been killing it. So I'm concerned about that.
We've by now covered some tremendous amount of ground, Jim. It's really quite staggering. We've also quite exhausted our legalized pixel count. I'm beginning to think that I now understand what you mean by The Audio Police. It's really the equivalent of what modern psychology calls mankind's subconscious garbage heap. It's the place where our uninspected notions on hatred, racism, judgment and territorialism hide out. All those wonderfully defining but limiting motivators of raw survival that are still at the base of present-day global politics. In your case, it's a certain mindset. It's based upon popular but not fully inspected notions. They're reinforced by outmoded reviewer lingo and dealer focus, validated time and again by a skewed perspective that doesn't include the whole picture.
Precisely. The Audio Police is a fun stand-in for our reliance on measurements over feelings; for elevating technology over our heart; for mistaking the means for the Grande Finale; for idolizing specs over involvement as though feelings could be measured.


It's the boogieman that prevents people from touching their soul through music. It's the menace that keeps them chasing attributes and qualities. It's the settling for the crumbs below the table. This encompasses all the mechanisms of audiophilia. They distract from our emotional involvement. It points at unfounded beliefs, well-accepted notions, rules and must-dos that in fact undermine this very involvement. They exaggerate the exact artefacts of the playback event that outright distract from the musical message. It's the idolatry of the stand-ins over the real deal. It's the premature applause during the tuning session instead after the final crescendo.

The intent of all this? To inject a small subversive element into the status quo, to get people to question its validity. That's why I put myself into all the ads. I've been there. I've done the whole gig. Beginning to end, T-shirt, fountain pen and dismissive slap on the shoulder. I'm not an outsider with rosy ideals. I'm an insider who was burnt beyond recognition, to the point of throwing it all away. I had hit the proverbial wall. The only reason I came back? I finally stumbled upon the cure.


Now I'm not saying that the Avantgardes are the only cure. Or even the cure for everyone. I'm simply saying that they are what cured me. That feeling, of hearing them for the first time, stayed with me for days. Prior to that, only a live concert had had that profound an effect on my psyche.


If I could bring this magic that continues to transform and enrich my life to other peope, then all the very real risks of promoting and selling so outlandish a concept as avantgarde hornspeakers would be well worth the taking. That's what makes Avantgarde-USA tick. And while, given our current economy, I can't lie and pretend it's an easy road to hoe, it's one that brings me deep satisfaction each time someone gets it - whether they buy our speakers or not.


Are we finally done now? (Sounds distinctly anxious over this.)