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A Call For Humor!
- Thread starter Tks
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- Oct 11, 2018
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I was thinking about some over the top designs, and the general ‘take it to the limit’ mentality of high-end. How it is rather humorous once you move away from it. Below are some examples. All these (probably) started out as serious designs, but from a practical point one can take them lightly, each in their own way. They represent what I call, ‘why didn’t I think of that’ engineering. Proving once again, as if anyone needed proof, that for a price no amount of weirdness or excess is impossible for audiophiles to embrace.
[Note: I’m not saying that these items were not decent quality for what they were. Just… how should I put it... they were a little different. This is, by the way, meant to be humorous. To anyone owning this stuff, don’t take it personal!]
Pioneer F-28 tuner. I mention this from the xraytonyb YT videos (six parts!). The F28 is one of an example of a handful of quite remarkable performing ‘supertuners’ from Japan, but designed according to the engineering principle: "What can we do that’s so different and off the wall that when it breaks or becomes misaligned, it can probably never be fixed.” The answer? From the Tuner Information Center:
The front end is especially interesting, and is unlike any other tuner we know of… Five of the gangs are traditional analog gangs, while the 6th gang is a varicap diode. The 6th digital gang controls the local oscillator which is used to set the station frequency. This is accomplished by reading a plate behind the analog dial scale which is encoded with an 8-bit binary code that tells the tuner where the dial pointer is set.
Meaning that if the strip is damaged or otherwise misaligned, or if the circuit deciphering board is not working, the owner is pretty much facing a Charlie don’t surf situation. For this particular feat of engineering excellence the designers deserve a special kind of award, and one wonders what exactly they were they thinking, and why? PS: wood sleeve optional at extra cost.
Ever since Percy Wilson wrote about it, and a few years later the more rigorous math of Erik Lofgren decided it, tracking error geometry is still debated, back and forth, one way or the other. Some, like Peter Aczel, Mitch Cotter, Sao Win, etc. were fanatical over it. Others, like most Japanese tonearms designers, just set overhang at 15mm, regardless, and went on with other business. A few record player designers decided to make the issue moot, either with pantograph tonearms (Garrard), or linear trackers (Marantz, Rabco, Goldmund et al).
The most unique and... um…er… ‘interesting’ engineering solution (and no doubt the most unintuitive and definitely the most real-world complicated solution) was thought up by the folks at Transcriptors, who asked the important question (after rounds of Bushmills?), “Why make the tonearm linear, when we can fix the tonearm and move the platter, instead?” It was a question no one had ever asked before, and to this day no one still does. But progress marches, and once the device was produced, pretty much every audiophile in the world looked at it, scratched their head in amazement, and then went out and bought a Linn Sondek.
In order to address the issue of turntable resonances the folks at Oasis decided that the best way was to float a platter on top of a layer of liquid goo. Devising a proprietary gelatinous compound of a certain viscosity, the Oasis platter rested atop this goop, absorbing unwanted vibrations before resonances had a chance to ‘muddy’ the sound. Only a few were made for some reason, which was probably a good thing since the plastic fins and platter drum were known to fatigue over time, cracking badly, allowing sticky goop to spill over whatever the turntable was sitting on.
During the ‘70s, audiophiles witnessed the Receiver Wars. High powered all in one units from Japan with every feature you could think of, and a few you couldn’t. All looking exceptional in the design department sporting brushed aluminum fronts, machined knobs, and furniture grade cabinets. In America, probably as a reaction to this value proposition, things went the other way. Low power minimalist designs were the fad.
In likely the most ‘take it to the limit’ example of 'you might not get what you pay for', one intrepid entrepreneur decided that what well to do audiophiles really needed was not a state of the art receiver with more power than nature intended, one imported from Japan, and one offering good value, but rather the most expensive, most tweaky, and most ugly (industrial design that looked more at home in the control rack of an iron smelting plant than a domestic environment) amplifier, and one that couldn’t be used with almost any full range 'high-end' consumer loudspeaker made to date, without blowing up.
You ask, what sort of mind would think of marketing such a device? Who else but Harvey, ‘stack ‘em high and watch ‘em fly—stack ‘em deep and sell ‘em cheap’, Rosenberg? And thus was born the OTL-1. In an ironic twist anent imported Japanese gear, Harvey claimed that most OTL-1s wound up in Japan (powering the rods at Fukushima?).
However that was, for your money you got poundage. A lot of poundage. 250 on four separate chassis of goodness, providing a mind boggling 150 watts at 16 ohms, down to 20 or 30 watts at 4 ohms (depending, and for short periods of time). Just what one needed to drive LS3/5A or Tangent loud speakers. And all for the bargain price of $12,000.00 ($30,000.00 inflation adjusted). Plus, with your purchase you got a ‘lifetime’ warranty. Just don’t ask whose life.
Tubes not your thing? No problem. Mark “I never met a preamp that was too expensive” Levinson offered a reverse OTL-1: 12 watts into 16 ohms, but a whopping 200 watts into 1 ohm. And all for a much less ‘per unit’ price than Harvey wanted-- only $1800.00. That was Mark’s good news. The bad (or ugly) news was that you needed six of them ($38,000.00 inflation adjusted) in order to power his special loudspeaker, which obviously you’d need in order to take advantage of Mark's 'special sound'. Of course as part of the ‘total package’ you had to buy two of his mono preamplifiers (an additional twenty-two thousand in today’s 'inflato' dollars).
Similar to Futtermans, for your money you got the same ‘industrial’ design, albeit sans retro looking meters. So if Honeywell style industrial equipment was your thing, both Mark and Harvey had you covered. Of note: an additional feature of the Levinson was pointed out by the folks at Audio magazine (I think it was Audio) who had success in welding steel plates with a ML amp. So if you ever needed to do that on the weekends, the Levinson was a no brainer. Sadly, the Futterman OTL was left hanging in that respect, but was known to self-weld its internals on occasion, so it had that going for it.
[Note: I’m not saying that these items were not decent quality for what they were. Just… how should I put it... they were a little different. This is, by the way, meant to be humorous. To anyone owning this stuff, don’t take it personal!]
Pioneer F-28 tuner. I mention this from the xraytonyb YT videos (six parts!). The F28 is one of an example of a handful of quite remarkable performing ‘supertuners’ from Japan, but designed according to the engineering principle: "What can we do that’s so different and off the wall that when it breaks or becomes misaligned, it can probably never be fixed.” The answer? From the Tuner Information Center:
The front end is especially interesting, and is unlike any other tuner we know of… Five of the gangs are traditional analog gangs, while the 6th gang is a varicap diode. The 6th digital gang controls the local oscillator which is used to set the station frequency. This is accomplished by reading a plate behind the analog dial scale which is encoded with an 8-bit binary code that tells the tuner where the dial pointer is set.
Meaning that if the strip is damaged or otherwise misaligned, or if the circuit deciphering board is not working, the owner is pretty much facing a Charlie don’t surf situation. For this particular feat of engineering excellence the designers deserve a special kind of award, and one wonders what exactly they were they thinking, and why? PS: wood sleeve optional at extra cost.
Ever since Percy Wilson wrote about it, and a few years later the more rigorous math of Erik Lofgren decided it, tracking error geometry is still debated, back and forth, one way or the other. Some, like Peter Aczel, Mitch Cotter, Sao Win, etc. were fanatical over it. Others, like most Japanese tonearms designers, just set overhang at 15mm, regardless, and went on with other business. A few record player designers decided to make the issue moot, either with pantograph tonearms (Garrard), or linear trackers (Marantz, Rabco, Goldmund et al).
The most unique and... um…er… ‘interesting’ engineering solution (and no doubt the most unintuitive and definitely the most real-world complicated solution) was thought up by the folks at Transcriptors, who asked the important question (after rounds of Bushmills?), “Why make the tonearm linear, when we can fix the tonearm and move the platter, instead?” It was a question no one had ever asked before, and to this day no one still does. But progress marches, and once the device was produced, pretty much every audiophile in the world looked at it, scratched their head in amazement, and then went out and bought a Linn Sondek.
In order to address the issue of turntable resonances the folks at Oasis decided that the best way was to float a platter on top of a layer of liquid goo. Devising a proprietary gelatinous compound of a certain viscosity, the Oasis platter rested atop this goop, absorbing unwanted vibrations before resonances had a chance to ‘muddy’ the sound. Only a few were made for some reason, which was probably a good thing since the plastic fins and platter drum were known to fatigue over time, cracking badly, allowing sticky goop to spill over whatever the turntable was sitting on.
During the ‘70s, audiophiles witnessed the Receiver Wars. High powered all in one units from Japan with every feature you could think of, and a few you couldn’t. All looking exceptional in the design department sporting brushed aluminum fronts, machined knobs, and furniture grade cabinets. In America, probably as a reaction to this value proposition, things went the other way. Low power minimalist designs were the fad.
In likely the most ‘take it to the limit’ example of 'you might not get what you pay for', one intrepid entrepreneur decided that what well to do audiophiles really needed was not a state of the art receiver with more power than nature intended, one imported from Japan, and one offering good value, but rather the most expensive, most tweaky, and most ugly (industrial design that looked more at home in the control rack of an iron smelting plant than a domestic environment) amplifier, and one that couldn’t be used with almost any full range 'high-end' consumer loudspeaker made to date, without blowing up.
You ask, what sort of mind would think of marketing such a device? Who else but Harvey, ‘stack ‘em high and watch ‘em fly—stack ‘em deep and sell ‘em cheap’, Rosenberg? And thus was born the OTL-1. In an ironic twist anent imported Japanese gear, Harvey claimed that most OTL-1s wound up in Japan (powering the rods at Fukushima?).
However that was, for your money you got poundage. A lot of poundage. 250 on four separate chassis of goodness, providing a mind boggling 150 watts at 16 ohms, down to 20 or 30 watts at 4 ohms (depending, and for short periods of time). Just what one needed to drive LS3/5A or Tangent loud speakers. And all for the bargain price of $12,000.00 ($30,000.00 inflation adjusted). Plus, with your purchase you got a ‘lifetime’ warranty. Just don’t ask whose life.
Tubes not your thing? No problem. Mark “I never met a preamp that was too expensive” Levinson offered a reverse OTL-1: 12 watts into 16 ohms, but a whopping 200 watts into 1 ohm. And all for a much less ‘per unit’ price than Harvey wanted-- only $1800.00. That was Mark’s good news. The bad (or ugly) news was that you needed six of them ($38,000.00 inflation adjusted) in order to power his special loudspeaker, which obviously you’d need in order to take advantage of Mark's 'special sound'. Of course as part of the ‘total package’ you had to buy two of his mono preamplifiers (an additional twenty-two thousand in today’s 'inflato' dollars).
Similar to Futtermans, for your money you got the same ‘industrial’ design, albeit sans retro looking meters. So if Honeywell style industrial equipment was your thing, both Mark and Harvey had you covered. Of note: an additional feature of the Levinson was pointed out by the folks at Audio magazine (I think it was Audio) who had success in welding steel plates with a ML amp. So if you ever needed to do that on the weekends, the Levinson was a no brainer. Sadly, the Futterman OTL was left hanging in that respect, but was known to self-weld its internals on occasion, so it had that going for it.
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Your right. If it were a contest my money is on you. Sorry for any offence. Thanks for all the funny posts.
JSmith
Master Contributor
JSmith
I wasn't offended at all. I just didn't want anyone to think we were in some kind of competition. I appreciate all good humor (especially bad puns!)
JSmith
Master Contributor
JSmith
