Streaming is insidious
For years I kept my digital and analog systems completely separate. My big rig in the basement was analog and the smaller system on the main floor was digital only, running off a Squeezebox Touch. The main-floor system saw the most use in our house—it provided the music to our life for Marcia and me. For years she would get up earlier in the morning than I would, and she’d play John Zorn’s Alhambra Love Songs, Brian Eno’s Music for Airports, or The Plateaux of Mirror by Brian Eno and Harold Budd. I’d walk downstairs a half hour later and encounter an accidental renaissance scene. The lights dimmed way down, the gas fireplace casting a warm glow, and Marcia on the couch with the dog, writing in her journal.
I love my main-floor system. But the big rig had a different mission.
We don’t own a television. When we want to watch a movie, we dim the lights in the basement, lower the motorized screen that drops down in front of the equipment rack, and fire up the JVC projector. It’s a conscious decision, something we do maybe once or twice a week. Convenient media access isn’t something we lightly invite into our home.
So there’s always been a chaste separating sword keeping digital on one floor and vinyl on another—until recently. In November 2023 I invited digital into my main system. The Meitner Audio MA3 DAC-streamer landed in my basement and, in combination with Roon, changed my relationship with music.
I installed the MA3 on the bottom shelf of my audio rack, where just-played LPs often obscure it. It’s fed by an ethernet cable, and I never have to interact with it.
The MA3 longing for the human touch
It happened slowly at first. I kept listening to LPs on the regular, occasionally swapping over to streaming when I wanted to hear something specific that I didn’t own on vinyl. Gradually, though, I found myself listening to the MA3 even when I didn’t have to. At first it was a time-and-motion rationale. I’d be writing this column, or my editorial, or a review, and I’d be in the swing of it, getting shit done. The last thing I wanted to do was get up and flip a record. Not when I could switch inputs on the Hegel P30A preamp and fire up any album in the world on Roon. Before, when I didn’t have this option, I’d sure enough get up and flip the record or put on another album.
You have to invite a vampire into your house, so the legend goes.
I recently reviewed the European Audio Team Fortissimo S turntable and found myself—at least at first—somewhat chagrined at the inconvenience of having to listen to vinyl exclusively. Just before the arrival of the Fortissimo S, I’d been working my way through John Zorn’s Book of Angels, a series of 32 albums that Zorn composed, each one played by a different artist. These albums have never been released on LP, so the only way I could hear them was via CD, or streaming via Tidal.
John Zorn’s The Song Project—a rare vinyl release
The arrival of the Fortissimo S interrupted that exercise. I fired up my Aqvox phono stage and began to thumb through my frequent-listen pile. As you can glean from my review, I thoroughly enjoyed my time with that ’table, and it felt like I was returning to the old swing of things.
Music itself through the MA3 is intensely satisfying. While it doesn’t impart its own sound on the music, the MA3 presents as clear, utterly grainless, pure, deep as a well. Is it as good as vinyl? I’d have to say yes, it is. What I missed—and I didn’t even realize I was missing it until I threw the Fortissimo S into the system—was the human factor. I had to cook my own food rather than order online and have it delivered. It’s part of a slower lifestyle that helps with digestion, is vinyl. It’s a mechanical watch that loses a couple of seconds a day. A motorcycle instead of a car.
Just yesterday, Harkness, a musician and friend I’ve written about in the past, stopped by to drop off a test pressing of his upcoming album. Harkness had asked if I’d listen to it and shoot him feedback regarding the mastering, sound levels, and pressing quality. Obviously, I was more than happy to help, given that a) I like Harkness, b) I like his music, and c) it’s on vinyl. So I headed downstairs to the big rig and fired up both the VPI, which is still armed with the DS Audio optical cartridge, and the still-in-residence EAT with the Jo N°8 moving-coil cartridge. Listening to Harkness’s record via both ’tables gave me the chance to hear it with the two wildly different pickup technologies. Sure enough, I detected a couple of things via the ultra-high-resolution optical cartridge that weren’t revealed on the EAT.
I don’t want to get into Harkness’s album right now, given that it’s not ready for release. Still, you should definitely check out the trailer for his documentary that’s going to premiere this month at the Whistler Film Festival.
What I will say is that evaluating this LP gave me a boost, a kick in the ass. It made me re-evaluate what a record does, and how much work goes into making one. Harkness spends much of his life obsessing over his music, which he arranges and produces. It’s dense, packed with nuance and flourish. Helping him verify the quality of his pressing ripped my focus away from the smooth, slippery ease of streaming and back to the calm simplicity of the LP.
Mitmat Foundation Premium Mat
Lawrence Mittler—he of Mitmat fame—just popped by to drop off his newest creation: the Mitmat Foundation Premium Mat, a substantial isolation platform designed for use under audio components. Cast your mind back to April of this year, when I reviewed the Mitmat Platter, the company’s first product. Six months later, that mat is still on my VPI, which should tell you how much I like it.
So I had high hopes for the Foundation Premium Mat, which gives off the same I’m-not-flashy, all-business vibe as the platter mat does. The Foundation Premium Mat is made from rigid microcell foam with a flat PVC surface and a matte finish. Given its foam construction, it’s surprisingly heavy. The edges are unfinished, providing a clear view of the foamed interior. The foam itself is extremely rigid. The Foundation Premium Mat feels solid and precision-made, with a consistent thickness. The cut edges show no bubbles or inconsistencies, the top is smooth and unblemished, and the whole thing is utterly flat and level.
The Foundation Premium series of mats is available in two sizes, with each size available in two different thicknesses. There’s a standard 18″W × 15″D version, but the right match for my VPI Prime Signature is the 22″W × 18″D version. It’s available in a 12mm thickness for $800 (all prices in Canadian dollars) and a 25mm thickness for $1000. I received the 25mm version.
The only embellishments are the etched logo and product name on the top near the front. In an endearing effort to butter up the reviewer, Mitmat engraved this sample with his name. Should you wish to have your version custom engraved, it’ll cost you an extra $50.
Now, the whole point of Mitmat’s technology is the damping of resonances. Mitmat claims that the Foundation Premium Mat absorbs resonances above 300Hz, which would in theory benefit my VPI, as the entire ’table is hard-mounted, without suspension. This means any bearing or motor noise doesn’t have many places to hide. That said, I haven’t noted any noise issues with the VPI, but stranger things have happened to me than reaping unexpected benefits from support modifications.
The insertion of the Foundation Premium Mat was straightforward. I removed the power cord from the motor and set the motor aside. My neighbor Rob lifted the VPI and I slid the Foundation Premium Mat underneath. In the Mitmat literature, the company specifies that the Foundation Premium Mat can support up to 132 pounds, so the 66-pound VPI is well within tolerances.
As you can see from the photos, the Foundation Premium Mat is visually quite low profile. Its matte finish and unfinished edges are industrial in appearance. I think it looks quite handsome and appropriate underneath the also-industrial VPI. The only caveat I can find with its construction and appearance is that the edges seem a touch fragile and easy to ding, so it’s best to be careful when you’re handling it.
With the needle in the groove, I gave my rack a couple of experimental thumps. The VPI has always been quite sensitive to external vibrations, and I was pleased to note that the Foundation Premium damped these noises quite handily.
I was expecting to have to listen for a while to determine what the Foundation Premium Mat would bring to the party, but that’s not what happened. The first album I listened to was King Crimson’s Larks’ Tongues in Aspic, the Steven Wilson remix from the 1972–1974 boxed set (Discipline Global Mobile KCLPBX503). This is furious music, all a-clutter with percussion and drums, held down by John Wetton’s monstrous bass, and set on fire by Robert Fripp’s abrasive guitar.
After I installed the Foundation Premium Mat, I sat through this album twice in one sitting. On “Easy Money,” everything was better sorted, more clearly organized. Wetton’s bass didn’t sound louder, richer, or deeper; no—nothing like that. Instead, it was more defined in space, with a rounder body and sharper edges. In a similar way, the percussion was much more clearly localized, especially on the horizontal plane, with improved separation between the various jangly stuff that both Bill Bruford and Jamie Muir rapidly bang about.
Moving over to Red, also from the boxed set (I’m on a King Crimson overload these days), I cued up “Starless” and turned it up real loud on the DALI Epikore 9s that I currently have in for review. I know this track well, having used it as a reference for many years now. It’s Bruford and Wetton playing like a flying brick wall, huge and powerful. Again, I got similar benefits. No tonal balance changes, no increases in any frequencies; instead, a sense of increased delineation of images, of better placement in space and separation of instruments.
The Foundation Premium is a well-built product with real value. As with the Mitmat platter mat, I think the Foundation Premium is going to stay in my analog rig for the foreseeable future.
. . . Jason Thorpe
jasont@soundstagenetwork.com
