Category Archives: Audiophile Vinyl Reviews

Opinion: Carpenters with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra

Let me begin with a brief background.  We had Carpenters in the house while growing up. I’ve always liked parts of their earliest albums the best, and have long felt that A Song For You is their masterpiece.  It captures the band at a creative peak, their careers having gained traction in a relatively short time. Songwriting was also top notch, with solid contributions from the Paul Williams/Roger Nichols and Richard Carpenter/John Bettis teams.  The album is a snapshot of this combination, and if I have to recommend any one album to someone curious about Carpenters, this is the one that I point them to without fail.

Carpenters With The Royal Philharmonic OrchestraHang onto that “snapshot.” We’ll be returning to it.

I recently gave a listen to the newest installment: Carpenters with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.  Apparently, this is the latest installment in the realm of repurposing old recordings by popular artists, with the RPO strings added on top.  Sure I’m oversimplifying it here.  But if a particular recording works in that context, and it sounds good, then enjoy it for what it is! This type of project has its fans.

Yet as I listen to this Carpenters RPO release, it sounds…strange. Something is vaguely yet subconsciously “off” about the whole thing.  To my ears it is unsettling, even disjointed.  Why is this?

A little more background. Over the years, with countless compilations and handfuls of CD album reissues, Richard has been quietly remixing and even re-recording parts of these classic recordings. Remember what I said about a snapshot in time?  Well, someone has taken that old family reunion photo, touched up Aunt Hortense’s warts, neatened up Cousin Roy’s hair, and replaced a couple of assorted other cousins with better head shots from a couple of more recent photos.  It looks nicer, but something seems wrong here.

I have never liked the remixes.  I also dislike the re-recorded parts even more.  From a moral standpoint, it could be the idea of tampering with the past that upsets some listeners.  But that is not what bothers me about them.

It’s how the remixes and re-recordings sound.  When A Song For You was recorded, I’m sure most of the recordings were tracked in the studio with most of the band in there, and overdubs were likely limited to things like guitar solos and of course, Karen and Richard’s trademark overdubbed vocal harmonies.  When you have all the musicians in one place, there is a certain vibe between them, an energy in the room that you can’t quantify, and is something that only musicians can understand.  Overdubbing during the original sessions tends to convey a similar energy–you’ve witnessed those original tracks playing back through your headphones.

On top of that energy and vibe, another consideration is how the overdubs are being recorded. In later cases, the multitracks were converted to digital, and these overdubs and re-recordings were all done digitally.  Why does this matter?

Those sonics during the recording of A Song For You are also a snapshot of how the studio sounded at the time.  The microphones used, the mixing desks, the echo chamber, the analog tape recorders, even the formulation of tape used…these all contribute to how Carpenters (the band) sounded when the album was originally recorded.

Not only that, there are the recording and production techniques used in the 1970s that have no ability to be recreated.  The mixing engineer had his own touch.  The mics were placed in specific places to capture the instruments.  Other decisions like using EQ, reverb, etc. on the original tracks were up to the engineer and producer. These are studio processes that happened on the spot when the recordings were originally tracked.

Now, enter the remixes.  They can sound fairly close to the original sonics, but once digital EQ and reverb are added, this adds a brighter “sheen” to the originals that wasn’t there.  Re-recordings make this far worse, though.  Now, we have an updated performance, recorded in pristine (or one might say “sterile”) digital technology, sounding all new, squeaky clean and pure, against a performance recorded in the early 1970s.  The two do not mesh.

This is like taking your family reunion photo, photographed on an old Nikon SLR, scanning it into digital, and inserting new head shots of a few family members in Photoshop taken with a new Sony mirrorless digital camera.

Hence, my issue with this new recording being unsettling, disjointed, and feeling like it was cobbled together. I understand that there are even more re-recorded parts now, and of course we have the RPO overlaid on top of it all.  All of it note-perfect, of course. With all the original charm and soul slowly sucked out of it over all the years.

While I see that many are enjoying this new recording, I simply can’t get past the sonic collision of old and new. The definitive versions of all of these songs will always be the original album versions, all of which I have heard at least dozens of times (at least up through their album Horizon).  Altered parts never did sound right (even the overdubbed guitar solo on the single mix of “Top Of The World”), but these remixes, re-recordings and now this latest orchestral project just removes me further from the originals.

The good things is, there are still a few scattered copies of the Remastered Classics CD series out there so one can get the original album mixes.  And of course, original vinyl lives on in used record stores around the world, provided you can ever find a clean copy that hasn’t been played out.

No, I am not imagining it!

I have had my vinyl system for a couple of years now, and have gone through a couple of different cartridges to arrive where I am at right now.  While I do like the sound I am getting for the most part, I still wondered if I was really hearing a difference, or falling to the placebo effect.  On records I have owned for decades, and even more so on some recent audiophile reissues, I have never heard the records sound this good.  On many, the system is revealing details I hadn’t heard before.

While going through CDs this past week, I found a CD-R someone had sent me many years ago, a needle drop of an album that is nearly impossible to find today.  I can’t even remember who sent it, and even then it was another party who had sent this person the needle drop.  I had considered cleaning up the numerous pops and ticks in an audio editor, since this record was pressed on lousy vinyl and any copy that I have known anyone to own (even a sealed copy) has had these flaws in the vinyl.

Having ripped the CD, I played it back on my computer-based system (tube amp, DacMagic DAC, etc.).  What surprised me after about 30 seconds is that the quality of the needle drop sounded, for lack of a better word, “cheap.”  While the cartridge wasn’t blatantly mistracking, you could hear it was less than capable, with a rather odd balance to the highs and a somewhat thumpy quality to the bass.  The background noise, that “vinyl noise” or “turntable noise” that lurks as an undercurrent to the music, was plainly audible.  While it is not of such a poor quality, it reminded me of going from my rather modest high school mid-fi system to one of the many Panasonic “Thrusters” systems that friends owned.

I have not yet really “converted” anyone from digital to vinyl, nor do I really want to, but this whole exercise makes me want to demonstrate to others how a well-made, properly set up turntable system can extract so much more of the music out of the grooves than typical mid-fi setups.  Or even just show the non-believers how good it can sound.  The real haters will still nitpick everything to death (“See? I heard a tick! Right there!!“)  But anyone with an open mind can certainly grasp the concept.

I could do the same for high-res vs. CD, but that is a harder sell than vinyl vs. CD.  Still, I do hear differences between CD and high-res, and am slowly getting a few sample tracks together to demonstrate it clearly.

Review: Police “Zenyatta Mondatta” Back To Vinyl 180g

I have seen Universal’s “Back To Vinyl” series of reissues available on websites and in a couple of local record stores.  It wasn’t until I accidentally came across an unmarked 180g pressing of Zenyatta Mondata that I wound up owning one.  The album appeared in a bin of used audiophile vinyl, but I noticed that neither the cover nor label had any indication as to which label might have reissued the title.

It wasn’t until I got home and was able to punch the lengthy catalog number into my phone that I discovered it was one of those Back To Vinyl titles.

So, how does it sound?

To coin a current phrase: meh.

I had spun a track or two on my old cartridge, but finally was able to give it a spin on the new Ortofon 2M Black and see what was lurking in the grooves.  I’ve owned this one on the original A&M vinyl, SACD, Nautilus vinyl (with dbx encoding, no less), and one or two CD versions as well.  I can easily say that out of all of these versions, this Back To Vinyl pressing is the most lifeless of all of them.

Not only are the high frequencies subdued, the dynamics also lack the pop and crackle that even the lowly original LP had.  The first few drum whacks of “Driven To Tears” used to have an edge to them, as did the rimshots througout–they just seem muted here, and lacking impact.  The busy guitars of “Canary In A Coalmine” are lacking that tiny upper treble shimmer they have on other versions.  Even some of the ambiance is gone–I don’t detect the same amount of spaciousness (for lack of a better term) in the reverb, especially on a track like “Driven To Tears” which has a rather spare arrangement.

This cutting just lacks excitement.

A fellow vinyl hound friend of mine had told me that the three Back To Vinyl titles he owned were similarly lifeless, and he ended up returning them.  It would not surprise me if these were cut from digital sources rather than analog…although the SACD I have blows this LP to pieces sonically, as does the version from Message In A Box.

To add insult to injury, even the cover art is changed–it does not have the same rich hues as the original jacket, and even the insert is printed as a washed-out reproduction.  Seems Universal can’t get anything right these days.

Definitely not recommended for the money.  Not even used.

Review: Nicola Conte – Jet Sounds (Bossa Per Due)

Have you ever had the impression that someone had gotten into your hip dad’s basement and started thumbing through his old record collection from the 1960s? If so, that might have been Nicola Conte sneaking in the side door, and leaving with a few armfuls of those scratchy old LPs.

I grew up in the 60s and 70s, and from the time I was three years old, I was spinning records on the Admiral hi-fi in the basement.  My parents’ tastes ran the gamut–we had the old A&M stuff, quite a few by Mancini, some cha-cha and mambo records, some assorted jazz and easy listening, and a smattering of Bossa Nova.  Listening to Conte’s debut album, Jet Sounds, I hear plenty of echoes of the past, reminiscent of what I used to stack up on the Admiral’s woefully overstressed record changer. 

Conte is a classically trained jazz musician, producer and DJ, hailing from Italy. His name has appeared on many remix compilations over the years.  This album is comprised of samples of existing recordings, used as a base on which he layers additional instruments and vocals.  While I am not familiar with many of the samples, one of which stood out immediately for me is “Mambo De Los Dandies”.  Having grown up with Mancini’s soundtrack to Charade, I have “Mambo Parisienne” embedded in my genetic code, and hearing that familiar percussion intro, sped up slightly and turned into a completely different tune, is a treat!  It is quite a manic little mambo, layered with an organ and sax, with brass punctuating throughout.  

The other tracks are no less of a joy.  The one “hit” on this album is “Bossa Per Due,” used in a commercial for the Acura CL back around 2001.  This swirling Bossa has a breezy attitude that is infectious.  This is similarly carried over to “Forma 2000”, another energetic Bossa with a syncopated organ figure throughout, where “Il Cerchio Rosso” takes Bossa into a swingin’ 60s easy listening style.  The title track takes the Bossa Nova into more of a big band territory, and “The In Samba” cops the frantic guitar lick from the Stan Getz/Cal Tjader “Ginza Samba”.  “Dossier Omega” and “Missione a Bombay” both sound as though they are lifted out of a globetrotting James Brown, with the Indian-flavored sitar and tabla.  “Jazz Pour Dadine” also has that Italian cinematic feel to it.

There are many colors throughout this disc, and the many layers may take a few listens to fully “get” the music.  But it is worth it!  This recording is, simply put, fun!  And interesting enough that its many layers give plenty to discover on subsequent listens.  This is one album I wish I’d discovered a dozen years ago when it was still new.  Highly recommended!

Note: this album was released in some countries under the Bossa Per Due title, with a rearranged track order.  The 2-LP vinyl release of Jet Sounds also has a rearranged track order, yet two of my favorite tracks are omitted–“The In Samba” and “Mambo De Los Dandies”.  (It really makes no sense, as two of the sides do not even clock in at 15 minutes.)