As I was preparing our annual Records to Die For feature for 2021, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, it occurred to me that at such a moment, “Records to Die For” didn’t evoke the same feelings it once did. That name—for what has become Stereophile’s most popular feature—had started out light-hearted, derived from a 1980s pop-culture idiom, which eventually found expression in several book and movie titles as well as at least one Death-Metal band. In late 1990, as the 1991 feature was being prepared, it didn’t seem so light-hearted at a time of so much death and suffering. At such times, music is a salve, a source of encouragement, perhaps even a means for survival. Records to Die For officially became Records to Live For.
Today—knock on wood—the worst of COVID well behind us, the new designation seems exactly right. This feature is all about music that inspires, that makes life rich—that gives us a reason to live, in times troubled and joyous. These are records that, if you knew you didn’t have that much time left, you’d be eager to hear one last time. At least.
Once each year, since 1991, we’ve asked all our writers, music writers and hi-fi writers, to name two of their favorite albums of all time—albums that have special meaning. The records may be old or new. There is no requirement that they have particular musical or sonic merit, although many of them do. What matters is that they have special meaning—particular emotional resonance—for the writer. We used to require that they still be in print or at least reasonably easy to find, but we eliminated that rule a while back: A record to live for (or, before that, a record worth dying for) is worth incurring some expense or putting in some work to track down. Today, the only rule is that each writer must not have chosen the same album for previous versions of this feature; it’s fine if it was previously chosen by a different writer.
It is common for Records to Live For to include works by musicians who have recently left us. This year, two of us chose music by Jimmy Buffett, who died last September. Other trends: Two writers chose the very recent collection of Shostakovich symphonies from Andris Nelsons and the Boston Symphony Orchestra, our Recording of the Month for January. Also, two writers chose music hosted at YouTube, reflecting, I’d say, the increasing importance, in the streaming age, of video in hi-fi. Whatever it means, I’m pretty sure this is a first.
Without further ado, here it is: Records to Live For, 2024.
JOHN ATKINSON
HENNING SOMMERRO
BORDERS
Trondheim Symphony Orchestra, Nick Davies; Sigmund Groven, harmonica; Roar Engelberg, pan flute; Marianne Thorsen, violin
2L 2L-173-SABD (Pure Audio Blu-ray & hybrid SACD/MQA CD; available for download as 7.1.4 48k Dolby Atmos TrueHD, 7.1.4 96k Auro-3D, 5.1 24/192 DTS:X, discrete 24/88.2 and DXD 7.1.4 immersive, and 24/192 PCM, 24/352.8 MQA and DXD stereo). 2023. Morten Lindberg, prod., balance, editing, mix, and mastering eng.
➜ As readers of my reviews will be aware, I judge stereo imaging accuracy by listening to how narrow and stable an image placed at the center of the soundstage is produced by a pair of loudspeakers. However, with classical concerto recordings, even if the image of the solo instrument is well-focused and stable, it is too often too large. The recording favors the soloist by placing him or her too far in front of the orchestra with too loud a relative balance. That is not the case with this album from Norwegian label 2L, engineered and produced by Morten Lindberg.
Lindberg has been at the forefront of producing immersive recordings—see above for the surround-sound formats in which this album is available—but since surviving the quadraphonic wars in the 1970s, I exclusively enjoy my recorded music in stereo. I therefore listen to Borders, which features three 21st century works for soloist and orchestra, as two-channel 24-bit MQA files. This is how it’s done—whether it was the harmonica in Solkverv (Solstice), the pan pipes in Vårfest (Ostara), or the violin on Grenzer (Borders), each instrument was the correct size in proportion to the image of the orchestra spread behind it and to its sides and had the appropriate loudness. Two channels, yes, but musically immersive.
ANDRÉ PREVIN WITH JOE PASS & RAY BROWN
AFTER HOURS
André Previn (Bösendorfer piano), Ray Brown (double bass), Joe Pass (guitar)
Telarc CD-83302 (CD; 16/44.1 FLAC, Tidal and Qobuz). 1989. Robert Woods, prod.; Jack Renner, eng.; Elaine Martone, ed.
➜ I don’t know how I missed this album when it was released in 1989, which has been in heavy rotation since Roon’s Radio function served it up last October. My philosophy as a recording engineer was influenced by the late Jack Renner of Telarc, whom I interviewed for magazine in 1983, and who engineered both this album and André Previn’s performance of Rachmaninoff’s Second Symphony, which was one of my 2021 R2D4 choices. I have been a fan of Joe Pass since I saw the guitarist live in concert with Oscar Peterson in the 1970s, and bassist Ray Brown is, of course, masterful at supplying the rhythmic foundation for
