Reviews Written By: A6FIAB28IS79provided by Amazon.com |
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 | EatSmart Digital Scale w/ Backlit 3.5" LCD Display and Oversize Platform (ESBS-01) | |
 | "Where are the batteries?" | 2009-11-20 |
| Amazon's description as well as the blurb on the manufacturer's box declares that batteries are included (4 AAA's). The instructions even imply they've been pre-installed, telling you simply to tap the scale until it reads 000. No problem getting a big zero when there aren't any batteries, which I made sure were not tucked away in some inconspicuous corner of the package. Otherwise, the scale is more stylish and decorative than the pictures would suggest, practically daring you to step on its glass (!) platform. (Probably not ideal for anyone with an aversion to slippery surfaces.) Once I had purchased and installed the batteries, it seemed to perform up to the standards other reviewers have claimed on its behalf. Moreover, it subtracted a pound and a half from the read-out I was getting from the scale it replaced. So I'll raise my rating if I can get my batteries without first sending the item back to Amazon (actually, the seller wasn't Amazon but "Fullfilled by Amazon," which is supposed to be just as good.)
As for the hype about "extra large" letters and "oversized" platform, I'd have to say both fall within a range that might be considered "normal"--in fact, they're somewhat smaller than the Taylor it replaces but still plainly visible. | ||
 | Ultimate Christmas Fake Book (Fake Books) | |
 | "Penultimate, or "most" ultimate." | 2009-11-09 |
| Hal Leonard Publishing has a corner on the market, and Amazon has the nice price. I no longer require fakebooks, but occasionally they serve as a handy reminder of a tune to play, or of a chord or melody note about which I'm a bit tentative, and when possible I try to work with a second musician, whether a bass player, guitarist, or horn player. Nothing like a fakebook to ensure you and the other musician(s) are on the same page. Fake books are, moreover, a great way to learn how to play jazz--apart from lots of close, attentive listening to everything Sinatra, Crosby and Ella recorded.
The Leonard-style fake books are what you need--whether metal or plastic, the "comb binders" are crucial, enabling you to lay the music flat. I can remember the days of illegal, under-the-counter "real books," going for fifty a pop, as much as 150 for a set of three--3 tunes per page, with minuscule notation and frequently inaccurate (or very "uncool") chord changes, hastily and carelessly transcribed. Now, even the "Real" (or "New Real") books are legal and reliable. Playing from a fakebook "forces" you to come up with chordal voicings and rhythmic accompaniment patterns--of far greater value than any "jazz method book" to anyone who wants to learn how to improvise or play jazz. This is the 5th edition, apparently the most recent of Leonard's "Ultimate" Christmas fakebooks, but were it not for Amazon's price (for 275 songs), I'd most likely demur. (Like music stands and even piano stands, not to mention cords and adapters, fake books tend to get left behind on the gig.) The collection is relatively complete--including tunes like "Christmas Time Is Here," "The Christmas Waltz," "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve," tunes that frequently are not to be found in a one-volume collection. It also has some nice surprises like "Santa Baby," Frank Loesser's "Baby It's Cold Outside," the traditional hymn "In the Bleak Midwinter," and Claude Thornhill's "Snowfall." On the other hand, three songs immediately conspicuous by their absence are "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," "Winter Wonderland" and "Sleigh Ride" (hard to imagine excluding any of the three from a Christmas gig.) More excusable, perhaps, is the omission of Irving Berlin's "I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm"; more understandable is the absence of "Snoopy's Theme" (aka "Linus and Lucy"), but you'd better have it ready if you're playing a Christmas party. The missing songs would be less of an irritant if the volume didn't include some truly expendable holiday ephemera such as "Holly Jolly Christmas" and "Jingle Bell Rock" (the latter sounds more like a polka and, thankfully, is no longer requested). Finally, any volume of Christmas songs worthy of the descriptive term "Ultimate" had better have Thad Jones' "A Child Is Born," a jazz standard which, though appropriate for any time of the year, has become increasingly popular with each new Christmas season. "The Christmas Fake Book" (by Alfred Publishing) fills some of these holes (153 songs, many duplicates but at a lower price, making it a value comparable with the Leonard "Ultimate" edition). It's unclear to me why "The Professional Pianist's Christmas Fake Book" is: 1. "professional" and 2. more expensive. But you'll still probably have to spring for at least one more collection--"A Charlie Brown Christmas." There was a time when three purchases would quickly pay for themselves, but in recent years, with acoustic pianos no longer a common instrument in residences let alone commercial establishments, a live musician trying to make a living may be inclined to settle for one book. What's the best Christmas song? I'd have to go with the ballads. In some cases ("I'll Be Home for Christmas," for example), it depends primarily on the performance. "White Christmas," for all its simplicity, bears the mark of Berlin's genius in every note and word, but again a sensitive performance is key to the song's effectiveness. For a song with a strong chord progression supporting a "melody on a mission," or a musical lyric capable of practically playing itself, a piano player would be hard-pressed to decide between "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and Mel Torme's "The Christmas Song" (though I'm afraid that roasting chestnuts on an open fire no longer makes a whole lot of sense to listeners). | ||
 | Portrait of Johnny : The Life of John Herndon Mercer | |
| "Essential reading for all Mercer fans (almost so for newbies)" | 2009-11-02 |
| Though primarily a sympathetic, admiring portrait of a brilliant American lyricist--arguably the best despite not producing a "hit" Broadway show--Lees doesn't appear to pull any punches in what is ostensibly a biography not merely of an extraordinary talent but a personal friend of the author. Based on his remembrances as well as his primary research and Mercer's own fragmented attempt at an autobiography (Lees points out the irony of the great lyricist-poet being a rather clumsy, even amateurish, writer of prose--perhaps best seen as another of the many qualities connecting Mercer with the "common man"), Lees produces a fascinating portrait, one most likely to score with the reader who is already familiar with the significance and accomplishments of the subject, or with the songs themselves.
There are a few quirks, as when the author warns us that Mercer's letters are likely to embarrass the present-day reader, not just because of their candor but the writer's seemingly superhuman tolerance and self-subjugation if not masochism. Perhaps I'd been overly prepared for the shock or I simply missed it, but I failed to find them all that remarkable. More striking is Lees' employment of an 18th and 19th-century literary device known as the "apostrophe" (same spelling as the punctuation mark used for contractions and possessives), permitting the author to address the deceased himself, imploring Johnny, in effect, to acknowledge the dismal state of the art since his departure and to spread what remains of his legacy toward reversing the undeniable decline of popular song, which was distinguished during Mercer's time by the felicitous marriage of words and melody, resulting in a "lyric poem" no less artful for its employment of the vernacular and its focus on a broad-based audience whose lack of sophistication did not prevent it from being deeply and irrevocably moved by the emotional power of Mercer's lyrics. I'll confess that these sorts of sudden shifts in focus on the part of the author--where he drops the 3rd-person "he" in favor of the 2nd-person "you" (at one point, the reference is to the reader; at another, it's to Johnny Mercer himself)--at first struck me as strange if not disruptive. But upon reflection, they strengthen the sense of the author's close and passionate connection with his subject. The reader, in turn, is more likely to feel and remember the impact of what he has just read. The playing out of the Mercer story continues beyond the lyricist's death to the sad and somewhat depressing end, reminiscent in some respects of the fall of the once proud Compson family in Faulkner's "The Sound and the Fury." It's hard to infer from the author's research that he has necessarily loaded the dice in Mercer's favor, as stated by another reviewer. John's problems with alcohol and the pain it causes family and friends are more thoroughly documented than in other accounts I have read, and the lengths to which Ginger goes to secure him the best medical treatment by the most qualified surgeons qualify as testimony to her strong feelings toward her extraordinary husband. It's during the aftermath of the surgery that the picture becomes less clear. Ginger's decision not to attend to her husband during the months of his post-operative vegetative state is less problematic for the reader seeking to assign blame than her behavior and poor decisions following his death. She appears equally victimized by the bottle and an opportunist-gigolo who represents not just continuity of her husband's legacy as she would prefer to remember it but welcome human companionship. Some of the descriptions given Lees by family members are reminiscent of the more sensational pages from Art Pepper's "Straight Life"--if true, an indictment of the disease of alcoholism as much as an expose of a dysfunctional family or failed relationship. Mercer knew all too well the complexities, paradoxes, and inscrutability of love, his knowledge heightened by the appetites, desires, and dreams which for the artist are necessarily writ large in consciousness long before the challenge of capturing and sharing a small part of them for the reader, or listener. In that regard, Ginger didn't fail Johnny by reigning in his creative muse (or those ever-present "angels") just as Mercer's art stands as powerful testimony of a love that embraced not merely Ginger but included us all. Those angels, at least in Johnny's case, are still singing. | ||
 | Transcend 8GB SDHC Memory Card (Speed Class 6) | |
 | "High hype, low cost (the joys of freedom)" | 2009-10-19 |
| Now that storage cards are: 1. practically a requirement for anyone who owns a camera, videocam, digital recorder, portable storage device; and 2. a fraction of the price of what they were a couple of years ago while offering more memory and speed in proportion to the reduction in price, the consumer is faced with some difficult decisions. The cards come in many sizes (physically as well as internal capacity) and grades (at least three levels from most manufacturers). Currently, Transcend (a brand that has moved to the front ranks in only the past two years) is offering the most bang for the buck (i.e. you may be able to purchase a Sandisk or Kingston card for the same price, but it's practically certain to have a more limited storage capacity and/or be rated at a less "professional" grade). Hence, the Transcend 8 GB card with a "6 rating" is understandably attracting a lot of attention. Should it be?
Formerly, the only card I had problems with was Lexar, which has virtually disappeared from the menu. Recently, the only card that's given me trouble on a couple of occasions has been a Transcend--and one of those instances was a mechanical breakdown (the thumb-drive mechanism would not remain extended and locked in place, preventing me from inserting it into my computer's USB port). So it's a bit of a toss-up. If you want to save a few bucks and feel secure, get a Kingston; if you want to sleep well at night, get a Sandisk; if you want to take after the "pros," going for the best image (visual or aural) humanly thought possible on a tight budget, go for a "Transcend," Class 6. But don't be deceived by the other-worldly brand name "Transcend": it's still a speck of an object, easily misplaced or lost, and very much part of the finite world, subject to the problems and disrepair of all mortal beings and material things. Supposedly, Transcend's 2 grade is more than adequate for most consumers' needs. Their 4 grade is recommended for hobbyists shooting movies in high definition. Their 6 grade is what the pros use. If you're simply using the card to transport documents, get the cheapest Kingston. Same holds true for most of the "smaller" cards (including 4gb cards, which not long ago were considered gargantuan). If you're picking up a whopper (8, 16, and even more GB's) for making a hi-def movie with sound, it "may" be worth the added cost to go for any of the aforementioned brands' best card. (I've heard that Sandisk is the primary maker of cards for all of these brands, so if you own Sandisk stock, its bottom line should not be affected significantly by your choice of brand.) Of course, there's always Sony and its Memory Stick, but now you're beginning to talk higher prices than those commanded by any of the aforementioned brands. To a Sony-o-phile, the premium price is no doubt worth it--and indeed it may well be. But what's at play here has less to do with objective data than consumer psychology. | ||
 | Thelonious Monk - The Essential Monk | |
| "Making Monk Accessible." | 2009-10-06 |
| Pick up the most important album of the present millenium--"Thelonous Monk with John Coltrane at Carnegie Hall"--which begins with the absolutely essential "Monk's Mood" (excluded from the present collection), then go to the almost equally essential "The Thelonious Monk Trio" or "The High Priest" (make sure it's one that includes "Reflections" from 1952-53). Now pick up Roberta Gambarini's "Easy to Love," including the medley reproducing the emotion, intellect and spirituality of the the aforementioned two Monk tunes. Not only will you gain an entrance to Monk's music, but you'll be privileged, indeed doubly enriched, to hear it through the alert ears of someone who hears all of the elusive, inscrutable and profound beauty that, for some reason (because we're too close to it?), most Americans find elusive, difficult or impossible to relate to. | ||
 | Sennheiser EH-150 Evolution Hi-Fi Stereo Headphones | |
| "Sennheiser EH-150 vs. CX-300 vs. PX-100" | 2009-10-03 |
| Headphone preferences are matched only by partisan politics in producing controversy. My hope is that by limiting the comparison to Sennheiser, I won't hear from irate Grado owners. But regardless of the listener's headphones, the sound can be no better than the source. It's absurd to compare headphones if you're listening to compressed MP3 files or to the numerous home theater amplifiers that doctor the sound with all sorts of artificial effects. You'll need a high-quality amp with the ability to bypass all equalization and effects. Secondly, you'll need a recording by a engineer who doesn't goose the bass or alter the sound of piano , horns, and drums to suit his own tastes or a "house style." I went to some recordings engineered by Roy DuNann who, while working for Lester Koenig's Contemporary label, produced recordings of transparency, detail and, above all, of absolute "fidelity" to the original source.
The EH-150s, perhaps not surprisingly, produced the "biggest" sound, with resonance and presence to spare along with the most "sealed in" quality of the three in question. The downside is that they are slightly tight and large, not ideal for extended, uninterrupted use. The CX-300s are, as a popular consumer's magazine recently reported, potentially the equal of ear-buds ten times the price. But it depends on many variables, from the size of the earpiece, to the degree of insertion, to the seal (some buds advise the use of a paste-like substance). They provide excellent treble and surprising bass (though the frequency range quickly pales alongside the EH-150s in a noisy environment). Also, the uneven cable lengths (short to the left bud) take some getting used to (Sennheiser recommends that you wear the cable behind your neck). The PX-100s, though slighly less expensive than the EH-150s, get my vote. The drums and bass may lack some of the resonance, fire and pop of the comparable instruments rendered by the EH-150s, but they compensate for "bigness" by their outstanding, accurate, nuanced reproductive detail, from every whispered brush stroke to the definitive, revelatory realism of Scottie LaFaro's walking bass. Their lightness and pleasing sound are not the least of their attributes, making it possible to wear them for a longer period of time than any competing headphones, whether full-sized or ear buds. The downside is the thinness of the two wires extended from each phone and the extra time required to fold and unfold them when placing them in their hard case. (When I'm in a rush, I grab my Koss Portapros which, if priced at fifteen or more bucks lower than the PX100's, are probably the better value). | ||
 | Zoom H4n Handy Recorder (H4Next) | |
| "5 star machine, 4 star user" | 2009-09-29 |
| I recorded a concert with the Zoom H2 and was instantly impressed by the warm and "roomy," inviting and pleasing sound. But there were weaknesses in the machine's ability to pick up spoken announcements and the faint sound of the walking string bass. So I went to the Zoom H4n, which offers the capability of using 2 onboard mics and 2 external mics simultaneously. It was a less satisfying experience overall, resulting in a better balanced recording but at a price: extra mic set-ups, bulkier equipment, mixing problems--almost enough to push me toward what I did not want to become: an engineer hauling computer, 8-band Roland recorder, manual, phone calls to the "experts"--more time, more distractions from the music (simply getting a Kurzweil PC under control is challenge enough). So I thought maybe the Sony PCM-D50 would, with its superior mics, give me the presence and balance I was looking for. The sound was louder, less forgiving, but the overall effect less pleasing than the Zoom H2. Like the H4n, the Sony is relatively heavy and bulky, anything but a pocket or stealth recorder.
I heard little difference between the Zoom and the Sony, though the Zoom is far more versatile and somewhat less expensive. It's the desirable machine but represents more of a "compromise" in terms of size and weight than a radically new, portable design. Audiophiles and dedicated field engineers shoud see the H4n as worth twice the price of the H2; teachers and musicians will appreciate simply tossing an H2 in their pockets or purses. | ||
 | Dr. Dean Ornish's Program for Reversing Heart Disease: The Only System Scientifically Proven to Reverse Heart Disease Without Drugs or Surgery | |
| "The best, and here's why--" | 2009-09-25 |
| Of all the "alternative medicine" heart books out there (or at least the five best-sellers that I've read), Ornish's is still the most complete, up-to-date, sensible and safe. Esselstyne's, which is currently in the number one slot in sales, is practically the same except slightly more "radical" (he prohibits oils of any kind--whether fish, flax, soy). It's simpler to read, briefer, and more current (probably accounting for its popularity), but for the most part it's a stripped-down version of Ornish's book, even following the same organization (advice plus lots of recipes). Ornish's program has the advantage of giving consideration to factors other than food and exercise as a therapeutic measure, and is the more "philosophic."
Here's the problem with some of the other books--by Sinatra, Ignarro, etc.: They prescribe the consumption of vitamins, supplements, pills and powders in megadoses that are not proven to be without side-effects which, for some individuals, can be draining and stressful in themselves. I know people who can't tolerate probiotics, ginseng, S-ame, goldenseal, grapefruit seed oil, and any number of the recent supplements that are sold simply on the basis of one "expert's" say-so, the cooperation of all the vitamin manufacturers, and without FDA approval. To ingest the quantities of CoQ-10 and d-Ribose recommended by Sinatra or the 4 grams of d-Arginnine plus Citrulline required by Ignarro (in addition to 5 to 10 other "essential" supplements) is to invite a certain amount of discomfort and grief before any of the advertised effects might be noticed. Indeed, to follow these recommendations is to trust that the medical "establishment" is completely ignorant of the wondrous powers of these supplements or determined to make us over-tax the health care system more than is already the case. Lord knows, the FDA, or organized medicine, has slipped up its share of the time, has been overly slow to approve some measures, overly hasty in other cases. But to demonize them as some sort of vast conspiracy intent upon keeping us all feeling unwell is, however much of a therapeutic placebo to some, an insult to common sense and logic. In fact, these health evangelists--going back to Adele Davis and Linus Pauling--prescribe as much from the perspective of belief, faith and theology as caution, wisdom, and science. | ||
 | Mal Waldron with Eric Dolphy and Booker Ervin - The Quest | |
| "Music, like life, is never a means to an end: living, or music-making, is its own reward." | 2009-09-20 |
| It's gratifying not merely to find this session still in print but at the top of Mal's discography in terms of sales. Mal belongs to the school of pianistic "minimalism," which has produced some of jazz' outstanding creative minds--Monk; Ellington (to a lesser degree, perhaps, but coming out of the same stripped-down James P. stride-style fortified by modern harmonies and a percussive attack); Basie (though when he decided not to turn over rhythmic duties to Joe Jones and company, he could be a formidable two-handed technician); John Lewis (who revealed more about his proficiencies than he intended when in a solo piano context); Horace Silver and Gil Coggins--all players who, especially to listeners who regretted ever taking up the piano after listening to Art, Bud, or Oscar, could be immensely reassuring. Like his "boss," Lady Day, Waldron plumbed deep wells in fertile grounds confined to the most limited of parameters.
Of course, he's helped out immensely on this date by prime-time Eric Dolphy (perhaps the main attraction for many collectors) who moreover brings out some of the best of Booker Ervin, a tenor saxophonist whose association with Mingus and long obscurity has led to a limited but devoted, cult-like following. (The same might be said of Clifford Jordan and Tina Brooks.) Last but not least, the decision of Ron Carter to play cello opens up a spot for the perennially underrated, always dependable and prototypically unselfish bass player, Joe Benjamin. It's that easily overlooked "detail" that accounts for some remarkable, unexpected chemistry among these like-minded, forward-thinking players, all but guaranteeing that in this case the quest will be the listener's re-quest. | ||
 | VANGUARD VS41 Flexible MiniTripod | |
| "Take two--they're small." | 2009-08-29 |
| As predicted in my review of the Sunpak tripod, currently outselling this one on Amazon and at a lower price, this item was too small to remain with me for any length of time. All the same, it's cheap enough and sufficiently useful to warrant an encore. It attaches to a personal audio recorder (Zoom H2), a point and shoot camera (Canon SD780), and videocam (Flip) with no problems whatsoever. So whether your objective is steadier shots, better sound isolation, or self-portraits, this is a handy item to have on hand (though I haven't found the flexible legs to be particularly useful).
As for the different brands and prices of these curious creatures, may as well ignore them. They're all the same, regardless of brand, and if you compare the ones that come postage-free with those that don't, you're likely to discover that they all cost about the same. After losing the first one within the first two weeks, I've become more conscious of the pocket clip that's attached to the tripod. Unfortunately, it's a bit too loose to remain attached to the owner's shirt pocket--but it's the right idea. | ||
 | Big Deal on Madonna Street - Criterion Collection | |
| "We could all afford to be more Italian." | 2009-08-26 |
| Ostensibly a send-up of the French caper classic, "Rififi," "Big Deal on Madonna Street" actually IS a big deal. Personally, I found plenty of humor in the leak-proof, exhilarating predecessor, so the ironic meaning of "Big Deal" seems off the mark if the intention is to mock the childish, self-destructive games of professional jewel thieves. "Madonna" is big in a more literal sense--physical, outrageous comedy that nevertheless manages to distinguish each of its unforgettable characters, balancing slapstick and surprise with humanism and pathos.
A film like this, moreover, could be made only by an Italian, or an Italian-American such as Frank Capra. It's as distant from the Teutonic Hamlet-like brooding of Bergman or the achingly, ceremonial slow pace of Kurosawa or Ozu as you can get. And it makes American comedies and buddy pictures, at least since "Animal House" and "Butch Cassidy," seem like big klutzes by comparison. From Capra to Fellini, Italian cinematic sensibility is essentially positive, upbeat, communal and comic, even if, as Rossellini and de Sica remind us, the social order is subject to the iron-clad materialistic challenges of living (just as the isolated protagonist we find in other national cinema is bound to a code of some noble personal order essential to self-actualization). No cinema--not even Russian--seems more open to Marxist theoretical approaches than Italian (it's Bedford Falls, not George Bailey, that proves the true hero--or antagonist, as the case may be). There's an additional reason to see this film as more than a send-up, merely, of a predecessor movie. "Big Deal," like "Riffi," has a moral and a message, which comes down to something like "Never give into the machine let alone become one yourself." Like both Chaplin and Keaton, whose best films are also the result of painstaking, meticulous mechanical engineering (both filmmakers go for broke to 1. mechanize the human, as in the famous conveyor belt scene of "Modern Times," and to 2. humanize the mechanical, as in the tarnished but never defeated Confederate locomotive run by Buster). Mario Monicetti emulates the two founding fathers of film comedy in his attention to the details of editing, mis en scene, and acting. And he recalls both the essentially comic vision and communal emphases of his fellow countryman, Frank Capra, in his construction of a little society that is (more or less) functional, "democratic" and, above all, living! Trust the French to be existential about the inescapable and perennial problem of greed and its empty deserts; the Italians, on the other hand, take it more in stride. No tragic potential here but plenty of misfortune--along with sadness that this vital and vibrant community, even though a dubious lot of thieves, in the end simply can't hold it together. But it's important to note that they retain their "integrity"--they're not about to submit to the indignity of "work" (a cake walk compared to all they've suffered while trying to make their fortunes the "easy," or illicit, way). Like "The Bicycle Thief" they are ultimately out of work, not to mention friends; the difference is that this rag-tag motley crew with a not-so-magnificent obsession is too shielded from the Marxist reality (that seems to occupy the margins of every Italian film) to understand "why" their failed caper should be a big deal. A disappointment, to be sure. Yet the viewer leaves with the feeling that it's all simply another day's work--or, more accurately, play--in the lives of Falstaff and company. It's not Henry V: it's neither the end of Falstaff nor the triumph of the social-economic forces that will eventually lead to his dismissal. But it's a heck of a good time for viewers of any ethnicity, race, class, or gender. [As the above paragraph suggests, "Big Deal on Madonna Street" demands a sequel. And it gets it 20+ years later, once again featuring Marcello Mastroianni. But if it's a revisionary send-up, or parody, that you're looking for, try De Sica's "The Bicycle Thief" followed immediately by Maurizio Nichetti's "The Icicle Thief"--two films that are a half century and worlds apart yet, upon reflection, offer a comparison that suggests the post-modern milieu of the present is not necessarily superior to the depressed post-World War Italy captured by De Sica's neo-realist classic.] | ||
 | NO More Heart Disease : How Nitric Oxide Can Prevent--Even Reverse-- Heart Disease and Stroke | |
| "Another heart book: steak fan's choice" | 2009-08-24 |
| Of the five popular heart books I've recently picked off Amazon, Dr. Ignarro's will no doubt have an immediate appeal to many readers. He permits steaks, sanctions some other commonly forbidden foods, and pushes pills as a cure for heart disease, which he ascribes to insufficient nitric oxide (hence, the constant use of the acronym N.O., including the somewhat tedious slogan "Say Yes to NO"). The book can at times seem a bit quirky: like most of these writers the author doesn't pass up a chance to remind us of his credentials and accomplishments; the chapters and statements can be annoyingly repetitious, written as though a previously stated point were being made for the first time; the author provides an e-mail address and encourages the reader to write, then adds he expects more mail than he or his staff will have time to reply to. The inserts containing testimonies by "successful" Ignarro program followers somehow seem less reassuring when the source is a 32-year-old. Finally, the author can be exasperatingly quick to throw in numerous "in additions." In other words, the recommendation for 20 minutes of moderate exercise three days per week comes with inserted testimonials by marathon runners along with an insistence that, in addition to those three days, another two days must be committed to weight training (curiously the author devotes no more than a single paragraph to describing these exercises, even while proclaiming them as another essential source of N.O. and later claiming that he indeed has described an exercise program for the reader).
But perhaps of greatest interest to most readers will be the "magic bullet"--the supplement that will ensure sufficient production of nitric oxide to accomplish the promise of the book's not-so- modest title. And here's where the claim that a single supplement is the key begins to take on leaks with the potential to sink the ship. There are actually six supplements on the "must take" list, chief among them the amino acid arginine which, when taken with the complementary, or "synergistic," amino acid citrulline, will enable the body to manufacture enough N.O. to keep things freely flowing in refreshed if not renewed arteries. And the six supplements are to be taken in fairly generous quantities and in megapotencies (anything less than 4 grams will nullify any benefit)--along WITH your prescribed drugs (the author blithely asserts his N.O. regimen will "boost" the effects of your statin drugs). But soon the reader is encouraged to sample every other vitamin and trendy supplement you may or may not have heard of--from garlic to resvinatrol/resveratrol to dark chocolate to soy sauce to green tea to krill to taurine ("Try it: see if you like it" is a frequent phrase--somewhat strange in reference to a supplement that is unlikely to have anything resembling an overnight effect. More importantly, a reader might be forgiven for wondering whatever happened to the initial emphasis on the miraculous synergy of just two carefully measured products? By the end of the book (and dozens of supplements later), the author predicts that all of these vitamins and compounds will be imminently available in "mega-cardiovascular" dosages. And what's the reward for agreeing to become an obsessive pill swallower and walking chemical plant? Assuming you can tolerate all this stuff (I can't even handle ginseng) and have some quality of life remaining along with a healthy heart, you're allowed to eat red meat and fats (in moderation). But it's questionable whether Dr. Ignarro's book is all that less strict than Dr. Esselstyn's ("Prevent and Reverse Heart Disease," which flat out forbids the consumption of any product that owes its existence to "the face of a mother"--including, of course, meat (incl. fish), milk, eggs, and oils (incl. fish oil). At least there's something all of these guys agree on--saturated fat and free radicals are bad and omega 3 is good. But especially in the area of "degree," or "quantity," the differences among the authors are at times more conspicuous than the similarities. And it would appear that, as yet anyway, Ignarro's recommendations have not caught fire. Looking at the shelves in both a Walgreen's and a local health store, I saw no sign of either of the two "vital" amino acids. (On the other hand, there were several brands--and not on the spice shelves, mind you--of cinnamon! So obviously someone has recently penned a best-seller touting the medicinal wonders of the seasoning, which no doubt explains why, along with acai and resvanatrol, it's currently receiving valuable shelf space at your local drug or health food store.) If you want even more pill ideas (and haven't already been bombarded by cheerleaders for CoQ10, even though Ignarro conveniently makes room for it at the end of his book), you may wish to check out Dr. Sinatra's book ("Reverse Heart Disease Now"). I'm no scientist, but the reader should be aware of a school of scientific thought that strongly questions if not categorically rejects the notion that chemicals manufactured by and comprising the human organism can efficiently be replaced through oral supplementation--the cellular "membrane barrier" simply prohibits it. Of course, there's always Dr. Devane's book ("Heart Smart"), practical, commonsensical and informative--and guaranteed to immediately throw a heart-stopping scare into even the most heedless reader. However, Dean Ornish's book ("Reversing Heart Disease"), though written in the 1990s, is still, to my mind, the most thoughtful and persuasive. At least he's able to give consideration to the possibility that the consuming isolation that is likely to characterize the existence of someone who's centering their daily existence on foods and supplements could be as harmful as the disease itself. [Later: the url for the author's website as given in the book is inoperative. Instead, place a "dr" in front of "ignarro." Be aware that the critical N.O. supplements are available primarily through the controversial Herbalife company.] | ||
 | Rififi | |
| "Pure Cinema: "Jouissance" and more." | 2009-08-17 |
| If you came into the theater during the last five minutes of this film, you would see a 5-year-old with a toy six-shooter pretending to be an American cowboy while circling the Arc de Triomphe in a convertible driven by a cooperative chauffeur. The scene would be highly misleading--but on second thought, maybe not. There's a lot about "Rififi" that captures the first joy of watching movies at those Saturday matinees that were the highlight of every child's week.
Were it not for the humiliation and beating of a woman who had proven unfaithful to her lover (Tony, played by Jean Servais) during his prison time (he's a professional thief), we might assume this is a comic caper film. After the exhilarating, protracted safe-cracking in the middle of the film, the director sets up a mis en scene and cutting sequence identical to that in the climax of John Huston's "The Maltese Falcon," in which the thieves sit around the table salivating at the thought they are about to uncover the "real" Maltese Falcon. But this time there is no Humphrey Bogart, and the weighted sack turns out to be the real deal--priceless jewels. Even the flim's ceaselessly grim-looking protagonist, Tony, offers the barest trace of a smile. But soon the fun comes to a screeching halt, as the house of cards falls apart one by one. The thief whose specialty is safe-cracking (played by Jules Dassin, the film's director) cracks himself when he can't resist the temptation to go back for that one extra jewel, a ring, which he then gives to a girl friend, who's the "property" of a rival gang. At this point the story becomes as "moral" as "The Maltese Falcon" (Amazon's prefatory commentary equating the tale with "nihilism" is ridiculous), exposing the self-destructive consequences of those who can't control their greed--or the childish impulses that lead make-believe cowboys to become grown-up hoodlums. It's just a matter of time before the last man standing (out of seven) expires at the moment of the film's completion (appropriate, since the last survivor, Tony, is director of the heist, just as Dassin is director of the film). But such a summary does the film a huge injustice. "Rififi" has an ingredient lacking in the tightly-scripted, ultra-efficient, supremely-acted "Maltese Falcon": breath-taking visual composition, editing, and style that are a sheer joy to watch throughout. Moreover, it's cinematic spectacle that allows the viewer to become a participant in the "back-stage" action--the collaborative process so essential to the power of cinema itself. Above all, it is the robbery of the jewelry shop that is analogous to filmmaking--from the collaborating it entails, to the specialties required, not to mention the hard work, the self-control and discipline, the tensions and uncertainties about the outcome, the ultimate triumph. For the film's protagonist and director of the intricate operation, Tony, that is enough. Each of the other thieves has a grand plan for what he will do with his share of the take (which, like the profits of commercial filmmaking after the middle man's cut, is drastically diluted by the need to go through a fence specialist). But when the question is finally put to Tony, his response is: "I dunno." Then he adds, "the risk was worth it." Of course, apart from the process itself, great movies have meaning, and "Rififi" makes its points unmistakably clear--about the roots of greed and gangsterism (and, for those familiar with the director's previous political life in America, loyalty and betrayal). The best films, moreover, are at their core an imitation of life, and "Rififi" individualizes its characters, its hoodlums, its scenes and activities with vivid verisimilitude. Even the female characters run the gamut, challenging some film stereotypes-from the victimized house wife/mother to the gang moll willing to risk her life (and pay for it) to the night club chanteuse (who plays out the rififi--i.e. rough, dangerous living--that she will soon unwittingly unleash by accepting the ring as a "fake") to the aforementioned beaten woman whose presence of mind hatches the clever ploy that will ultimately lead to the rival's location and the final shoot-out. The cineastes, or film academics, would have you believe that in French filmmaking of the 1950s, it's the "new wave" directors who matter. But Jules Dassin makes the filmmaking of Godard's "Breathless" or of Francois Truffaut's "Shoot the Piano Player" or of Alain Resnais' "Last Year at Marienbad" all look like the work of amateurs (which it is). Not only is Dassin a more gifted, "professional" director, capable of employing light and shadow and Hollywood "classique decoupage" to perfection, but he engages the spectator more completely in the magic of cinema. Andre Bazin may not have known it, but Dassin is the most deserving French "auteur" of the period. More than any other director, he puts into play what the French philosopher, Roland Barthes, would later describe as the "juoissance" of the text. (This DVD print has such wonderful resolution of the blacks, whites, and greys along with sharp definition of the image as to make Blu Ray gratuitous. No need to wait for a later edition, whenever that may be.) | ||
 | Rififi - Criterion Collection | |
| "Pure Cinema: "Jouissance" and more." | 2009-08-17 |
| If you came into the theater during the last five minutes of this film, you would see a 5-year-old with a toy six-shooter pretending to be an American cowboy while circling the Arc de Triomphe in a convertible driven by a cooperative chauffeur. The scene would be highly misleading--but on second thought, maybe not. There's a lot about "Rififi" that captures the first joy of watching movies at those Saturday matinees that were the highlight of every child's week.
Were it not for the humiliation and beating of a woman who had proven unfaithful to her lover (Tony, played by Jean Servais) during his prison time (he's a professional thief), we might assume this is a comic caper film. After the exhilarating, protracted safe-cracking in the middle of the film, the director sets up a mis en scene and cutting sequence identical to that in the climax of John Huston's "The Maltese Falcon," in which the thieves sit around the table salivating at the thought they are about to uncover the "real" Maltese Falcon. But this time there is no Humphrey Bogart, and the weighted sack turns out to be the real deal--priceless jewels. Even the flim's ceaselessly grim-looking protagonist, Tony, offers the barest trace of a smile. But soon the fun comes to a screeching halt, as the house of cards falls apart one by one. The thief whose specialty is safe-cracking (played by Jules Dassin, the film's director) cracks himself when he can't resist the temptation to go back for that one extra jewel, a ring, which he then gives to a girl friend, who's the "property" of a rival gang. At this point the story becomes as "moral" as "The Maltese Falcon" (Amazon's prefatory commentary equating the tale with "nihilism" is ridiculous), exposing the self-destructive consequences of those who can't control their greed--or the childish impulses that lead make-believe cowboys to become grown-up hoodlums. It's just a matter of time before the last man standing (out of seven) expires at the moment of the film's completion (appropriate, since the last survivor, Tony, is director of the heist, just as Dassin is director of the film). But such a summary does the film a huge injustice. "Rififi" has an ingredient lacking in the tightly-scripted, ultra-efficient, supremely-acted "Maltese Falcon": breath-taking visual composition, editing, and style that are a sheer joy to watch throughout. Moreover, it's cinematic spectacle that allows the viewer to become a participant in the "back-stage" action--the collaborative process so essential to the power of cinema itself. Above all, it is the robbery of the jewelry shop that is analogous to filmmaking--from the collaborating it entails, to the specialties required, not to mention the hard work, the self-control and discipline, the tensions and uncertainties about the outcome, the ultimate triumph. For the film's protagonist and director of the intricate operation, Tony, that is enough. Each of the other thieves has a grand plan for what he will do with his share of the take (which, like the profits of commercial filmmaking after the middle man's cut, is drastically diluted by the need to go through a fence specialist). But when the question is finally put to Tony, his response is: "I dunno." Then he adds, "the risk was worth it." Of course, apart from the process itself, great movies have meaning, and "Rififi" makes its points unmistakably clear--about the roots of greed and gangsterism (and, for those familiar with the director's previous political life in America, loyalty and betrayal). The best films, moreover, are at their core an imitation of life, and "Rififi" individualizes its characters, its hoodlums, its scenes and activities with vivid verisimilitude. Even the female characters run the gamut, challenging some film stereotypes-from the victimized house wife/mother to the gang moll willing to risk her life (and pay for it) to the night club chanteuse (who plays out the rififi--i.e. rough, dangerous living--that she will soon unwittingly unleash by accepting the ring as a "fake") to the aforementioned beaten woman whose presence of mind hatches the clever ploy that will ultimately lead to the rival's location and the final shoot-out. The cineastes, or film academics, would have you believe that in French filmmaking of the 1950s, it's the "new wave" directors who matter. But Jules Dassin makes the filmmaking of Godard's "Breathless" or of Francois Truffaut's "Shoot the Piano Player" or of Alain Resnais' "Last Year at Marienbad" all look like the work of amateurs (which it is). Not only is Dassin a more gifted, "professional" director, capable of employing light and shadow and Hollywood "classique decoupage" to perfection, but he engages the spectator more completely in the magic of cinema. Andre Bazin may not have known it, but Dassin is the most deserving French "auteur" of the period. More than any other director, he puts into play what the French philosopher, Roland Barthes, would later describe as the "juoissance" of the text. (This DVD print has such wonderful resolution of the blacks, whites, and greys along with sharp definition of the image as to make Blu Ray gratuitous. No need to wait for a later edition, whenever that may be.) | ||
![Diana Krall: Live in Rio [Blu-ray]](product_images/4969000/diana-krall-live-in-rio-blu_t-4969183.jpg) | Diana Krall: Live in Rio [Blu-ray] | |
| "OK, but no gesamtkunstwerk." | 2009-08-02 |
| Urgency, drama, poignancy--all of which I hear in the Sinatra/Jobim bossa nova recordings (two albums plus a television special)--are replaced in this set by color, casualness, even a touch of "home-iness" (several singalongs). Of course, the latter are all illusions, as Krall is one of the best prepared, most tightly rehearsed, perfectionist artists in the business. Her piano chops are fine-honed to to the point of virtual flawlessness, if at the expense of some excitement and spontaneity. She'll never be a "stand-up vocalist," but she has worked hard enough on that facet of her talent to be one of the more compelling (though hardly virtuosic) voices in the music today. Perhaps Diana herself wishes to be taken less seriously as a vocalist than as a pianist--how else to explain her crossing her legs while singing a couple of the numbers? Perhaps her most noteworthy achievement on this date is to make it all seem so relaxed, so easy, so natural (the "just-got-up," careless fall of the hair, the sleepy eyes, the intimate rapport with the audience--all this on a concert stage while surrounded by a hundred musicians or so--it's the mark of a supreme actress who knows how to play equally to the camera and the crowd but also the signature of a performer sufficiently talented to exude this much confidence. By contrast, her steadfast team of Hamilton and Clayton look, if anything, somewhat nonplussed alongside Diana (though Clayton does his best to provide an ingratiating smile). Perhaps what I'm seeing is what happens to all of us after age 50 (I can recall few drummers who projected a more commanding presence than Jeff Hamilton driving the Woody Herman Herd). No doubt Buddy Rich and Ray Brown were the exceptions--both seemed to register increasing confidence and unflappable supremacy with each passing year. Guitarist Anthony Wilson, as the only other melodic voice of note, is especially key to the "jazz" interest of the group, though his rapidly ascending patterns occasionally get lost in the translation. Hand-drummer, Paulhino Da Costa, is gracefully balletic to look at, though his sonic contributions, at least on my system, are often hard to pick up. The orchestrations are worlds apart from a Nelson Riddle or Johnny Mandell but at least manage to avoid sounding intrusive or schmaltzy. The only "life" in the proceedings occurs with the introduction of the Nat Cole Trio numbers. A couple of misfires, at least to my ears' perception, are "Too Marvelous for Words" (Johnny Mercer certainly had nothing in mind like this soporific version, which is tantamount to replacing love-struck wonder and speechlessness with a sentiment more like "words require too much effort to express your attractiveness") and "Walk On By" (which, with its repetitious and constricted melody combined with a deadpan delivery, sounds stolid--even a bit like martial music--"March on By"?). Nonetheless, this is undeniably highly listenable, pleasant music. More questionable is whether it's worth the expense of time, attention, and cost of a Blu-ray edition. Despite the lovely interspersed shots of Brazilian life, there's not much to look at--unless you can't get your fill of Ms. Krall's admittedly handsome features. Moreover, the hi-definition is, at best, inconsistent. As mentioned, the audio is less than stellar, and the available light shots of the audience in the dark auditorium are mostly all grain (visual "noise" photographers call it). The cutting (from shot to shot) ranges from curious to disorienting (at a couple of points making the featured performer look like she's doing a ventriloquist act when the words suddenly show no synchronization with lip movement). Better to pick up the CD and let your mindscreen provide the pictures. (Tip: Don't overlook the "bonus" tracks shot in a hotel lounge with just vocal, guitar, and Hamilton playing brushes on his lap--in many respects, it's more satisfying than the big show.) | ||
 | LightSnake STUSBXLR10 LightSnake USB Microphone cable | |
| "Before you get carried away--" | 2009-07-23 |
| I'm looking for a way to get into my computer spoken announcements that will at least rival those picked up by the high-end mics (Shure SM7UB) at the radio station. Like many audiophiles, I assumed it would require a condenser mic for its fabled superior frequency range along with a pre-amp for phantom power and a pop filter to handle the sibilants and explosives. I started with Blue mics, then tried Behringer, Cad, and several others, with mostly disappointing results, ranging from minor to major. Then I realized that the expensive Shure mics at the studio are dynamic, not condenser, mics and that the most popular mic among all musicians is also a Shure dynamic mic--the Shure SM58 (or SM57, for musical instruments). Initial results with the LightSnake used in tandem with the SM58, a combination allowing me to convert the XLR connector of the SM58 to a USB connector, are encouraging. The volume, as others have pointed out, is a bit soft, but an inexpensive A.R.T. preamp should boost the gain adequately for most applications, providing phantom power in the event your mic is a condenser. To my ears the sounds approach the baritone richness of the Shure SM7B, but I won't know for certain until I get the verdict from the station manager (some of my experiments have resulted in hum or noise that wasn't clear on my end but, after sending it to the radio station, proved to be a problem for air-time use). The cost may seem a bit high for a cable, but not if it can produce the sounds claimed on behalf of all those mics I had to return. Moreover, it's no ordinary cable. As the name implies, this snake lights up (on both ends) when its fangs strike a profitable vein. Also, if you're a PC person, it comes with Sony demo software; if you're a Mac person, it comes with instructions for use with Garage Band. Just because Digital Audio Workstations and USB connections are now all the rage doesn't mean that you have to trash all your old band mics. If they sounded good with your Fender amp or Peavey P.A., they should sound just as good with your computer. But you'll need a conversion cable like this LightSnake to find out whether the trusty old equipment is up to the requirements of the new recording technologies. | ||
| LightSnake STUSBXLR10 LightSnake USB Microphone cable | |
| "Don't be too quick to replace those old bar band mics." | 2009-07-23 |
| I'm been trying to create computer files of spoken announcements that will at least rival those picked up by the high-end mics (Shure SM7UB) at the radio station. Like many audiophiles, I assumed it would require a condenser mic for its fabled superior frequency range along with a pre-amp for phantom power and a pop filter to handle the sibilants and explosives. I started with Blue mics, then tried Behringer, Cad, and several others, with mostly disappointing results. Then I realized that the expensive Shure mics at the studio are dynamic, not condenser, mics and that the most popular mic among all musicians is also a Shure dynamic mic--the Shure SM58 (or SM57, for musical instruments). Initial results with the LightSnake used in tandem with the SM58, a combination allowing me to convert the XLR connector of the SM58 to a USB connector, are encouraging. The volume, as others have pointed out, is a bit soft, but an inexpensive A.R.T. preamp gave me all the gain I could ask for, providing phantom power should I go back to a condenser mic. To my ears the sounds approach the baritone richness of the Shure SM7B, but I won't know for certain until I get the verdict from the station manager (some of my experiments have resulted in hum or noise that wasn't clear on my end but, after sending it to the radio station, proved to be a problem for air-time use). The cost may seem a bit high for a cable, but not if it can produce the sounds claimed on behalf of all those mics I had to return. Moreover, it's no ordinary cable. As the name implies, this snake lights up (on both ends) when its fangs strike a profitable vein. Also, if you're a PC person, it comes with Sony demo software; if you're a Mac person, it comes with instructions for use with Garage Band. Just because Digital Audio Workstations and USB connections are now all the rage doesn't mean that you have to trash all your old band mics. If they sounded good with your Fender amp or Peavey P.A., they should sound just as good with your computer. But you'll need a conversion cable like this LightSnake to find out whether the trusty old equipment is up to the requirements of the new recording technologies. | ||
 | March of the Penguins (Full Screen Edition) | |
| "Should you pray for a baby penguin?" | 2009-07-18 |
| The "family values" politicians who, of late, have had so much difficulty practicing what they preach, would certainly have no more perfect model of the self-sacrificial monogamy they promote than "March of the Penguins." But during the grueling 9 months of each year during which these noble, dignified creatures starve themselves, march endlessly, endure "terrorists" in the form of predators at every turn, they do not appear to have God on their side. Misfortune and, as Morgan Freeman puts it, "unbearable grief," are a constant threat and reality. Is it a moral failing that accounts for such seeming injustices and hardships to their ranks? Is it because they lack a "personal relationship with Jesus" (to borrow a trendy phrase these days)? Or are we seeing a more accurate mirror of the human condition than, save for Darwinians, humans are reluctant to accept?
"March of the Penguins" is definitely manipulative, but the amazing shots that the film has provided (I'd hate to even conjecture the percentage of raw footage to actually used, edited footage in the film) are sufficient to enable the viewer to forgive the "anthropomorphic indulgences and excesses" of the story of these creatures, who are made to seem larger and more "human" than they are. It's a movie that is part science, part "pathetic fallacy" (a term that literary teachers use for the human emotions that poets are prone to ascribe to non-human creatures). It's a film that leaves (quite intentionally) many questions unanswered, but its intentions are good. It raises awareness and provokes questions about creation, nature, and humans' place in the scheme of things. Moreover, the parallels between penguin and human relationships are undeniable, even if the "feelings" are necessarily projections of the spectators. Any productive steps toward atoning for our own violations of natural laws--such as righting pollution and global warming--are likely to come about only if we can "feel" our inseparable relationship with nature, coming to the realization that besides being spiritual and material beings, we are indeed natural ones. | ||
 | Shure SM7B Vocal Microphone | |
| "The Grail" | 2009-07-17 |
| I can't do more than underscore the endorsement of this mic by the previous reviewer (FOX). If you haven't started in the mic-collecting business, trying every trendy dynamic and condenser mic in the hundred dollar range and below, you might actually save some bucks by cutting directly to the chase and going for this one. I've always wondered why I can't reproduce the sounds of our local NPR outlet, and I finally realize it's because they have the Shure SM7B and I don't.
It enhances the voice with depth and richness and filters out the pops and unwanted percussives (face it, those separate pop filters are cumbersome to use). It's very directional and "selective" (rejecting room ambience and background noise), so it's perhaps not the ideal mic for all applications. But for announcing, broadcasting, vocal performance and vocal recording, I don't see how anything could possibly equal let alone surpass it. | ||
 | SHURE PG58QTR Performance Gear Vocal Microphone with XLR to 1/4" Cable | |
| "Shure quality and construction but not quite equal to the SM58" | 2009-06-27 |
| I started with the Shure PG58 and most recently acquired the Shure SM58. I'd probably be all too ready to agree with those who argue that a Neumann or Telefunken mic costing 5 G's simply isn't that much better than a Nady mic costing 10 bucks. But with respect to the Shure, I'm less sure that the SM58 isn't worth 40% more than the PG58. Perhaps if you have a sufficiently high-powered and "clean" amplifier and have tweaked the EQ settings to favor the frequencies of the human voice, the two mics could be mistaken for one another. It was my attempts to occasionally use an instrument amplifier as an emergency P.A. that led me to realize the PG58 sounded somewhat muted and dull compared to the SM58. Switching to the more common, admittedly more expensive mic, gave me just the extra gain I needed along with added crispness and clarity to the voice (at least for announcements). | ||
 | SHURE BROTHERS PG58QTR Performance Gear Vocal Microphone with XLR to 1/4" Cable | |
| "Shure quality and construction but not quite equal to the SM58" | 2009-06-27 |
| I started with the Shure PG58 and most recently acquired the Shure SM58. I'd probably be all too ready to agree with those who argue that a Neumann or Telefunken mic costing 5 G's simply isn't that much better than a Nady mic costing 10 bucks. But with respect to the Shure, I'm less sure that the SM58 isn't worth 40% more than the PG58. Perhaps if you have a sufficiently high-powered and "clean" amplifier and have tweaked the EQ settings to favor the frequencies of the human voice, the two mics could be mistaken for one another. It was my attempts to occasionally use an instrument amplifier as an emergency P.A. that led me to realize the PG58 sounded somewhat muted and dull compared to the SM58. Switching to the more common, admittedly more expensive mic, gave me just the extra gain I needed along with added crispness and clarity to the voice (at least for announcements). | ||
 | Blue Microphones Ball Dynamic Instrument Microphone | |
| "Novelty and performance--plus a few quirks." | 2009-06-20 |
| Blue can be trusted all the way down (or up) the line, from some of the least expensive consumer mics to some of the most expensive audiophile designs. And in their literature, they take a refreshingly light-hearted approach to the whole business of transmitting and recording sound.
But I could have used a bit more clarification before ordering this one. I was ignorant enough to believe that a "Dynamic Instrument Mic with phantom power" meant that the mic came WITH the phantom power (duh!?). Now, after reading the accompanying instructions, I see that the actual meaning (no doubt understood by most readers) is that the mic REQUIRES phantom power. Without it, it's a glorified soft-ball, little else (I guess it's big enough to qualify for kick-ball). At that point I should have quit on it, but I added the A.R.T. preamp to supply phantom power. Suddenly the Blue Ball became less of a soft ball and more of a bomb, whining to high heaven and protesting with squeals and penetrating screams. Either it's the most sensitive dynamic microphone out there, or the phantom power supplied by the A.R.T. pre-amp is enough to run every condenser microphone in Madison Square Garden. When I backed way down on the sound, my voice sounded full, pleasant, natural, but I was still experiencing minimal hum and feedback. Moreover, when I substituted a Shure SM-58 without phantom power, everything was once again loud and clear but without any gratuitous cacophony or electronic complaints. I'd recommend the mic possibly for recording purposes or to sound engineers who know how to provide just enough (but not too much) phantom power. It's definitely an attention-getter--bigger (and perhaps more ungainly) than the picture would imply. And the weight of this thing is proportionate to the size (the circuitry and materials contributing to the mass of this curious object is a conversation starter in itself). But perhaps there are more important considerations. For any singer who wants to cover up a set of yellowing teeth or, for that matter, a face that puts talent before beauty, this globe-sized UFO may be just the ticket. And what more perfect mic for a blues belter? (As the picture reveals, it practically announces the familiar 12-bar form with no help from the vocalist.) The instructions, unlike Amazon's description, describe the mic as all-purpose, or as equally appropriate for voice and instruments. (I suspect that sluggish sales have led to the "instrument" designation, as it simply looks and feels rugged enough to take on the most blistering guitar solo or, for that matter, Billy Cobham's entire drum kit.) It's just a darn shame that this mic wasn't available when David Lynch filmed Isabella Rossellini singing "Blue Velvet." No way Lynch could have resisted a curious, off-kilter attraction such as this. | ||
 | Shure SM58SLC Vocal Microphone (with On Off Switch) | |
| "A Shure Bet." | 2009-06-17 |
| I made the mistake of thinking I could save thirty bucks and get by with the Shure PG-58. I'm no vocalist but occasionally need to do announcements or accommodate a guest vocalist through an instrument amp (rather than a P.A.). Whatever the reason, the PG-58 simply doesn't have sufficient gain or oomph to be of much use with the Roland Cube / Peavey amps I try to employ it with (I use a 1/4" adapter with the XLR connector that comes with the mic). When I borrow a Shure SM-58 mic from someone, the difference is instant and dramatic--it's a far more efficient (i.e. louder) mic, producing a full, clear sound, and without additional pre-amplification, demonstrating why it's the most popular microphone in the world. For five bucks extra, I can't fathom a reason for avoiding the SM-58S, the version with an on-off switch. It's a small price to pay for quick solutions to feedback or the unwanted pick-up of "private" comments by indiscreet band members. And even if you're an instrumentalist, it may be wiser to select the SM-58 over the SM-57. The former mic is a little more ostentatious, but it's also slightly more adaptable, and the screen can filter out a certain amount of wind noise and unwanted non-musical sounds. Above all, the SM-58 has proven itself to be the Sherman tank of microphones, simply unparalleled for ruggedness and durability. | ||
 | ART Tube MP Studio Mic Preamp | |
| "A bit more show than go." | 2009-06-12 |
| In attempting to record announcements at home suitable for studio use (NPR radio), I encountered 3 problems: 1. My iMac didn't have enough power to provide adequate gain for non-USB microphones; 2. My results were often unusable due to recurring plosives (pops from "p" sounds); 3. My voice had none of the flattering "baritone richness" of the expensive studio mics. A USB mic such as the Blue Snowball or Snowflake solved the first problem. The ART Preamp did the same with my condenser and dynamic mics plugged into the computer's audio input jack. The second problem was solved by a pop filter, though the added gain provided by the preamp reduced plosives by enabling me to speak more softly and "mute" my consonants; thirdly, as for the rich and resonant radio studio sound, I experimented with various mics, running each through the ART box. While there were differences in the "presence" and "natural" sound of my voice, all of the samples seemed overly treblish and slightly shrill compared to the studio mics (perhaps equalizers and filters would help, but I'm increasingly inclined to give the credit to mics at the studio costing several thousand each). There are several of these mic preamps on Amazon, all supplying approximately the same amount of phantom power--up to 48 volts and 60 dbs. The ART is heavier and far more "stylish" than some others that cost ten dollars less. Whether the tube "warms" the sound as claimed may be more placebo than real, and I'm frankly puzzled that the meter, which is missing on the other preamps, has thus far been virtually motionless--more decorative than functional. In sum, if you run a small recording studio on a limited budget, it will be easy to fall in love with this seductive box. But bear in mind that it's probably not needed with a USB mic and that using it with a computer's 1/8" audio input will set you back extra for the right adapter (male XLR or quarter-inch to male 3.5mm). In addition, the power supply is a throwback to the wall warts of old, so it'll eat up 2-3 spaces on your power strip besides the box itself taking up extra room in your work space (suddenly a sensitive, compact USB mic is looking better than ever). I plan to see whether the ART preamp performs equally well with instrument amps that have proven too weak for effective P.A. use. But I may still opt to save ten bucks (add five if you find something from Amazon Prime) by exchanging the ART for a tubeless, meterless, more compact and light device, such as the small Behringer preamp, for the extra needed power boost. | ||
| ART Tube MP Studio Mic Preamp | |
| "Show plus go." | 2009-06-12 |
| [I'm beginning to think I did this item an injustice. I've looked at the prices of XLR to USB adapters made by Shure and Blue, and both--esp. the Shure--cost considerably more while offering less flexibility and features than the ART Preamp. The only "downside" might be the greater size and weight of the ART. If you plan to travel with the item a lot, throwing it in a gig bag with tons of other equipment, the Blue may make more sense.] In attempting to record announcements at home suitable for studio use (NPR radio), I encountered 3 problems: 1. My iMac didn't have enough power to provide adequate gain for non-USB microphones; 2. My results were often unusable due to recurring plosives (pops from "p" sounds); 3. My voice had none of the flattering "baritone richness" of the expensive studio mics. A USB mic such as the Blue Snowball or Snowflake solved the first problem. The ART Preamp did the same with my condenser and dynamic mics plugged into the computer's audio input jack. The second problem was solved by a pop filter, though the added gain provided by the preamp reduced plosives by enabling me to speak more softly and "mute" my consonants; thirdly, as for the rich and resonant radio studio sound, I experimented with various mics, running each through the ART box. While there were differences in the "presence" and "natural" sound of my voice, all of the samples seemed overly treblish and slightly shrill compared to the studio mics (perhaps equalizers and filters would help, but I'm increasingly inclined to give the credit to mics at the studio costing several thousand each). There are several of these mic preamps on Amazon, all supplying approximately the same amount of phantom power--up to 48 volts and 60 dbs. The ART is heavier and far more "stylish" than some others that cost ten dollars less. Whether the tube "warms" the sound as claimed may be more placebo than real, but the device strikes me as well-built, full-featured, and fairly valued. In sum, if you run a small recording studio on a limited budget, it will be easy to fall in love with this seductive box. But bear in mind that it may not be needed with a USB mic (for recording purposes, I've noticed no need for phantom power) and that using it with a computer's 1/8" audio input will set you back extra for the right adapter (male XLR or quarter-inch plug to male 3.5mm). In addition, the power supply is a throwback to the wall warts of old, so it'll eat up 2-3 spaces on your power strip besides the box itself taking up extra room in your work space (suddenly a sensitive, compact USB mic is looking better than ever). All the same, if you're willing to carry the extra weight, this baby, besides proving useful for recording purposes, can make an underperforming mic plus instrument amp come to life with more than ample power and loudness to serve as an emergency P.A. system. | ||
 | Blue Microphones Snowflake USB Microphone | |
| "Smart purchase, with a few limitations" | 2009-06-08 |
| The Blue Snowflake no doubt sounds as good as the Snowball, as many Blue fans have attested. The main argument in the Snowball's favor is that the aesthetics, alone, are sufficient to encourage the speaker to be on his or her best behavior. The advantage of the Snowflake is that it slips over the screen of a laptop (but most desktop screens, such as those on an iMac, are definitely too thick to accommodate the device). The pictures don't provide a good representation of the look of the Snowflake next to a desktop machine. The white plastic part that you see is merely a "traveling" box that protects the wire grill of the mic and serves double duty as a carrying case for the included USB cable. This part is removed while the mic is in use. With a laptop, the thick and heavy aluminum base clips over the top of the screen; with a desk top, it serves as a base for the mic, which sits just in front of the computer screen. (It's necessary to tilt the microphone backwards on its swivel so that the base is balanced and consequently "anchored" to the desk.) Unlike more expensive mics that I've plugged into a 3.5mm audio input on the computer, the USB Snowflake required no preamplification whatsoever in order to be adequately sensitive and loud for effective announcing. However, its extreme sensitivity is somewhat of a double-edged sword, as it's almost certain to pick up every plosive consonant and similar artifact. I've finally broken down and ordered one of those overpriced 6" pop filters (Amazon carries several, though they all look and cost about the same). The quality is the best I've heard outside a professional studio: crisp, natural, very present. The only thing missing is the deeply resonant sound that only an expensive large-diaphragm condenser mic can provide. As for build quality, the Snowflake is heavier and more solid than I had expected (I had even imagined being able to bend the clip sufficiently to make it fit on top of a desktop screen--but Arnold S. I'm not). I wouldn't be surprised if it proves as rugged as a Shure SM-56 or 57. | ||
 | Sony ECMMS907 Digital Recording Microphone | |
| "Useful mic priced lower than ever, but here are a few urgent tips." | 2009-06-07 |
| This proven mic has come down in price, while the one below it--the Sony DS70--has remained pretty much the same. For the extra 15 bucks, the Sony MS907 is easily worth the upgrade. The only advantage of the DS70 is not having to worry about having a fresh battery installed. The MS907 sounds fuller and richer, but frankly I did not judge it to be superior to the overall effect of the 4-point microphone that comes with the popular Zoom H-2. Whether or not you choose to use it in place of the onboard mic of a high-end personal audio recorder really comes down to a matter of personal taste. On the other hand, if you've picked up the new Zoom H-4n, this Sony stereo mic would be an excellent choice for complementing the onboard ones since the new Zoom allows for use of onboard and external mics simultaneously. As for recording to a software audio program on an iMac, that particular computer has an audio input that will accommodate the 3.5mm plug (but be aware that many computers do not have such an input--in that case, look at a USB mic such as those from Blue). Even with the right fit and a fresh battery, I found the MS907 to be somewhat underpowered for optimal results. It wasn't until I plugged it into an Onkyo preamp that I was satisfied. Again, I suspect that a mic with a USB connector would permit better gain levels with most computers. There are adequate mic amps on Amazon for $20-$40, capable of boosting your signal by 48 dbs. A Mac user willing to spend a bit more should look at the MXL Signal Booster Amp for Mac Computers, which costs a bit more but saves you the bother of USB conversion. Finally, if you're trying to make professional announcements for radio use, etc., you'll soon that that, unless you're incapable of puckering (which means you're not much of a kisser), the plosives ("p" sounds) soon begin to run away with everything you try to say. The only solutions I've found are to write scripts that are devoid of plosives (the "voiced" "b" phoneme is almost as much of an offender as the voiceless "p" phoneme) or to pick up a "pop filter." The latter are little more than 6" circles of cheese cloth costing $20-$30 each, but I'm about to give in and order one from Amazon. The last advice I'll offer is not to indulge in candy or a sweet soda while broadcasting. It'll thicken your saliva and make you sound like someone attempting to communicate with his dentist after being shot up with novocaine (or is it lidocaine, these days?)--in any case, it's sugar cane, and fuctose syrup, that will muck up your elocution, making your gums talk louder than your words. | ||
 | Sony ECMMS907 Digital Recording Microphone | |
| "Useful mic priced lower than ever, but here are a few tips." | 2009-06-07 |
| This proven mic has come down in price, while the one below it--the Sony DS70--has remained pretty much the same. For the extra 15 bucks, the Sony MS907 is easily worth the upgrade. The only advantage of the DS70 is not having to worry about having a fresh battery installed. The MS907 sounds fuller and richer, but frankly I did not judge it to be superior to the overall effect of the 4-point microphone that comes with the popular Zoom H-2. Whether or not you choose to use it in place of the onboard mic of a high-end personal audio recorder really comes down to a matter of personal taste. On the other hand, if you've picked up the new Zoom H-4n, this Sony stereo mic would be an excellent choice for complementing the onboard ones since the new Zoom allows for use of onboard and external mics simultaneously. As for recording to a software audio program on an iMac, that particular computer has an audio input that will accommodate the 3.5mm plug (but be aware that many computers do not have such an input--in that case, look at a USB mic such as those from Blue). Even with the right fit and a fresh battery, I found the MS907 to be somewhat underpowered for optimal results. It wasn't until I plugged it into an Onkyo preamp that I was satisfied. Again, I suspect that a mic with a USB connector would permit better gain levels with most computers. There are adequate mic amps on Amazon for $20-$40, capable of boosting your signal by 48 volts, or 60 dbs. A Mac user willing to spend a bit more should look at the MXL Signal Booster Amp for Mac Computers, which costs a bit more but saves you the bother of USB conversion. Finally, if you're trying to make professional announcements for radio use, etc., you'll soon discover that, unless you're incapable of puckering (which means you're not much of a kisser), the plosives ("p" sounds) will run away with everything you try to say. The only solutions I've found are to write scripts that are devoid of plosives (the "voiced" "b" phoneme is almost as much of an offender as the voiceless "p" phoneme) or to pick up a "pop filter." The latter are little more than 6" circles of cheese cloth costing $20-$30 each, but I'm about to give in and order one from Amazon. The last advice I'll offer is not to indulge in candy or a sweet soda while broadcasting. It'll thicken your saliva and make you sound like someone attempting to communicate with his dentist after being shot up with novocaine (or is it lidocaine, these days?)--in any case, it's sugar cane, and fuctose syrup, that will muck up your elocution, making your gums talk louder than your words. | ||
| Sony ECMMS907 Digital Recording Microphone | |
| "Useful mic priced lower than ever, but here are a few tips." | 2009-06-07 |
| This proven mic has come down in price, while the one below it--the Sony DS70--has remained pretty much the same. For the extra 15 bucks, the Sony MS907 is easily worth the upgrade. The only advantage of the DS70 is not having to worry about having a fresh battery installed. The MS907 sounds fuller and richer, but frankly I did not judge it to be superior to the overall effect of the 4-point microphone that comes with the popular Zoom H-2. Whether or not you choose to use it in place of the onboard mic of a high-end personal audio recorder really comes down to a matter of personal taste. On the other hand, if you've picked up the new Zoom H-4n, this Sony stereo mic would be an excellent choice for complementing the onboard ones since the new Zoom allows for use of onboard and external mics simultaneously. As for recording to a software audio program on an iMac, that particular computer has an audio input that will accommodate the 3.5mm plug (but be aware that many computers do not have such an input--in that case, look at a USB mic such as those from Blue). Even with the right fit and a fresh battery, I found the MS907 to be somewhat underpowered for optimal results. It wasn't until I plugged it into an Onkyo preamp that I was satisfied. Again, I suspect that a mic with a USB connector would permit better gain levels with most computers. There are adequate mic amps on Amazon for $20-$40, capable of boosting your signal by 48 volts, or 60 dbs. A Mac user willing to spend a bit more should look at the MXL Signal Booster Amp for Mac Computers, which costs a bit more but saves you the bother of USB conversion. Finally, if you're trying to make professional announcements for radio use, etc., you'll soon discover that, unless you're incapable of puckering (which means you're not much of a kisser), the plosives ("p" sounds) will run away with everything you try to say. The only solutions I've found are to write scripts that are devoid of plosives (the "voiced" "b" phoneme is almost as much of an offender as the voiceless "p" phoneme) or to pick up a "pop filter." The latter are little more than 6" circles of cheese cloth costing $20-$30 each, but I'm about to give in and order one from Amazon. The last advice I'll offer is not to indulge in candy or a sweet soda while broadcasting. It'll thicken your saliva and make you sound like someone attempting to communicate with his dentist after being shot up with novocaine (or is it lidocaine, these days?)--in any case, it's sugar cane, and fuctose syrup, that will muck up your elocution, making your gums talk louder than your words. | ||
 | The Only Investment Guide You'll Ever Need | |
| "Mostly true--in 2002; still useful in surprising ways." | 2009-06-05 |
| This was the first investment book I read, and it still stands out as one of the most commonsensical, though I'm afraid at this stage of life--when questions about social security, annuities, Roth IRAs, ETFs, medicare and health insurance, wills and estates loom large--it's suitable for a youngster or someone just looking to get their feet wet. One of the charms of the first edition was its singular compactness and economy--by the time of the last 2002 edition, however, it had begun to pack on some weight at the expense of what made it unique in the first place. Since the first edition of this book, the markets have become so complex and media-blanketed that a lot of the Benjamin Graham practical advice no longer applies (just ask someone who invested huge sums in mutual funds at this time a year ago, only to see it all sliced in half just several months later). On the other hand, people who follow CNBC and the second-by-second gyrations of the markets still tend to labor under the old illusions about how to "beat" the market--and indeed some do, whether due to chance (most likely) or some magical formula or insight. But win or lose, these latter-day market mavens become so absorbed in the moves of the exchanges, they're apt to miss out on the more significant changes in their personal lives and the world around them. The beauty of Tobias' book is that it provides an example of how to step back, put finances in perspective, and acquire a "big picture." For those who feel they are no longer in control of a manageable world or who experience non-stop stomach-churning and incessant tweaking of numbers when it comes to investing and money, Tobias' little book is to the world of finance what Strunk's classic "The Elements of Style" is to grammar and the English language. We could all profit from more books like it. | ||
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