I always say I can’t find what I’m not looking for, which doesn’t mean I always know what I’m looking for. And not knowing what I want is unsettling.
Recently, I was reminded of the thoughts of French polymath-philosopher René Girard (1923–2015), who suggested that people are not actually motivated by specific things like lust or capital or power, as major philosophers have declared, but by subtle, disconcerting forces of existential desire for something outside ourselves, never actually knowing what that something is.1
Girard explains how this not knowing drives history and invention. His main premise is that we feel desire but, not knowing what we desire, mimic the desires of others. These “others” we mimic constitute a third element, interrupting the lines of force between a person and the objects desired. This, according to Girard, makes desire, and by extension human evolution, a nebulous but powerful anthropological force engaged in forming human cultures.
In other words, you might like big speakers and fat speaker cables, but maybe only because people around you appear to like them. Same with cars and clothes and lovers.
Girard’s ideas helped me understand why it took me decades to identify the audio-system sound I’ve long desired but couldn’t describe. Finally, in my dotage, I’ve recognized this sound and decided to give it a name: electrostatic midrange.
I first noticed the electrostatic-midrange phenomenon during my torrid affair with the Koss ESP/950 electrostatic headphones.2 The toaster-like glow of the 950’s hyperdetailed, reverie-inspiring midrange reminded me of seeing the Milky Way when the sky is arctic-region clear, the stars appearing to touch each other. This was my first desire-forming experience.
My second experience forming my desire for electrostatic midrange came with my first set of Quad ESL-57s, which I bought mimicking the taste of friends Michael Trei and David Chesky. On the advice of audio chieftain Harvey Rosenberg, I powered my 57s with a Futterman H3 OTL amplifier. This system showcased truth of tone and hypervivid dimensionality—but only when I sat in the sweet spot.
