Return of The thin White Duke…

Read sci-fi novels and it’s odds on that you’ll encounter the phrase “space-time continuum” sooner or later. It’s no coincidence: sci-fi (almost) inevitable involves a step into the future and space and time are inextricable linked. It’s a connection that helps explain the difference between the temporal sophistication of the Nel and the toe-tapping rigidity of all those flat-earth systems. You remember them: the systems that didn’t image because “stereo imaging is purely cosmetic and nothing to do with the music!” But that’s okay – it WAS a parallel universe.

Back in the real world, getting the timing relationships within the music right – not just between notes, but between the different instruments in a band – runs slap into the issue of the space (or distance) between them. When it comes to reproducing the soundstage – the ‘map’ of those spaces – the Nel has an almost uncannily natural sense of scale and perspective, distance and separation. Whether it’s the stagger (in terms of distance and height) between Duke Ellington and Ray Brown on This One’s For Blanton (Analogue Productions CAPJ 015) or the natural spacing and vertical/horizontal orientation of the cello and guitar on the transcription of the Villa-Lobos Bachianas Brasileiras No.5 (Anastasia Kobekina and Thibault Cauvin – Ellipses, Mirare MIR604) the natural sense of space and instrumental scale adds to the clarity of the music, the performance and the relationship between the performers. Step up to something bigger, like the carefully layered studio production of Jackie Leven’s ‘You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling’ (Defending Ancient Springs – Cooking Vinyl COOKCD 191) and the speakers reproduce the collage of staccato instrumental interjections, vocal overdubs and layered reverb beautifully. Bigger still (Schubert’s ‘Great’ 9th Symphony, played by Jordi Savall and Le Concert Des Nations – Alia Vox AVSA 9950) and the Nel’s manage to both capture the densely packed orchestral arrangement so characteristic of Savall’s ‘small orchestra’ recordings, and the concentrated energy and musical tension that results. It’s that creative tension that is so musically critical – and that reflects the T&T’s temporal fidelity. It’s the same quality that binds the intimacy in the duos and the artful creativity, layering and rhythmic drive of the Jackie Leven track. Spacing matters because it relates directly to the music’s pattern, but it matters more because you can’t have it without timing. If that timing extends top to bottom, then you’ve got something special. The Nel Signatures are definitely special.

‘Speed Of Life’

Tempo – the pace of the music – is obviously a crucial artistic consideration, whether you are talking Rimsky-Korsakov or The Rolling Stones. Even more crucial are changes in tempo, slurs or hesitations within that tempo. If audio systems in general compress musical expression, one of the main mechanisms at work is the failure to communicate a consistent sense of pace, irrespective of frequency, or track artistic variations in tempo. What we might term musical articulation. Back to Ellipses, and playing through the Nels there is no missing the technique behind the performances, the musical intimacy between the players, the shape and character of the contrasting instruments kept whole by the speakers’ clarity and temporal continuity. The Nel Signature sounds almost like a single-driver design, given its spatial and temporal coherence and the absence of discontinuities in its musical output.