An exclusive interview with Ricardo Franassovici of Absolute Sounds presents a unique and refreshing perspective on streaming, analog, digital, the power of music, audiophilia, and related topics.
Importance of high-end audio streaming?
High-end audio streaming is hugely important because of its functionality and ease of use. It is the most practical way to discover music, to sample recommendations instantly, and to have music with you through the day—especially when you are active and want something playing in the background. In terms of sheer listening hours, streaming probably occupies the largest share for most people.
But when we move from convenience to absolute playback quality, there is still a clear difference. If you feed a DAC from a truly good CD/SACD transport, and even more so from a properly designed music server with locally stored music, you remove a lot of variables. You are bypassing the “internet grunge” that can come with streaming, and you avoid issues like additional processing and compression that can creep in depending on the service, the network path, and how the stream is delivered. Local playback gives the DAC a cleaner, more stable digital feed—and that typically translates into more refinement, greater ease, and more believable musical flow.
And many streaming platforms also support high-quality downloads. That is a powerful model: you can sample instantly, then buy and download what you love into your own library. Once the file is downloaded and played locally, it becomes a different proposition from a file being buffered and streamed over the internet. So for me, streaming is essential for discovery and everyday listening—but for serious listening, local playback remains the reference.
Analog vs. digital: is the clash of the titans finally ending, or has it already ended?
Years ago, one of my assistants said something that stayed with me: our industry can sometimes behave like a classroom—childish arguments, as if you must pick a side. But it is not a football match where you support Manchester or Liverpool and cannot enjoy both.
Analog absolutely has its place, and it is a wonderful world—vinyl, tape, cartridges, phono stages. People love the ritual, the craft, and the sonic character. That is real enjoyment.
But the digital domain is just as valid and, today, just as emotionally satisfying. In my view the debate is essentially over, because both can sound extraordinary. And importantly, digital no longer needs to “sound analog” to sound good. Tubes and turntables bring a certain colour that many people love—there is nothing wrong with that—but it is a colour.
The beauty of properly executed digital is that it can deliver a great sound without that added colour—clean, stable, and musically convincing. Especially when the DAC is fed from a high-quality local source, like a top server or a serious CD/SACD transport, digital can be absolutely reference level.
Music mastering and distortion: why is emotional impact often overlooked in today’s high-end audio setups, and why is proper harmonic richness essential?
A lot of people forget that real music is not distortion-free. Electronic and electric music is built on harmonic content and saturation, but even acoustic instruments carry complexity that, in technical terms, is not perfectly “clean.” A double bass, a brass section, a voice pushed emotionally—these are full of natural harmonics, texture, and colour. That is part of why they move us.
What I see in parts of the high-end world is an obsession with what measures “perfectly,” as if the graph is the goal. And the problem is: that road does not even run parallel to musical truth—sometimes it runs in the opposite direction. You can end up with an amplifier or system that is technically impressive, yet emotionally flat, because the pursuit of ultra-low distortion and ultra-low noise has stripped away harmonic richness and flow.
When a system is genuinely right—analog or digital becomes almost irrelevant—because everything is calibrated to work together. The sum of the parts becomes far greater than the individual components. At that point, music is not just “hi-fi”; it is alive. It should be enjoyable not only in the sweet spot, but even rooms away.
The manufacturers who understand this accept that a slight degree of benign harmonic behaviour—what many people call “richness”—is not a flaw. It is often closer to the way music exists in the real world. The goal is not distortion for its own sake; it is preserving the emotional message and the natural harmonic structure that makes instruments and voices feel human.
Are audiophiles a dying breed? What is the opposite?
I am not sure I like the phrase “a dying breed,” because it sounds negative. But it is fair to say the traditional audiophile demographic has aged. The average age is higher than it used to be, and naturally our hearing changes over time.
What is exciting is that a different kind of listener is emerging. Not always the classic audiophile who lives in measurements and permanent tweaking, but people who simply want to reward themselves for a hard-working life with something genuinely beautiful: a system that can bring music into the home in a way that feels almost alive.
When it is done properly, the experience can be euphoric. You do not just hear music—you feel it. You get that sense of immersion, of time slowing down, of being carried into a performance. For many, it becomes a personal sanctuary: a music room, a listening space, a place where you gather the soundtrack of your entire life.
And there is another shift I love: it is becoming less solitary. The classic audiophile often listened alone. Now people want to share the experience—invite friends, play records, discover new artists together. In the end, if there is an “opposite” of the old audiophile, it is not someone who cares less—it is someone who cares differently: less about the hobby, and more about the human experience. Because music is the best language in the world. It is the best soul language.
It is not all about power, but about delicacy in a properly set-up high-end audio system. How does one achieve that balance?
Power, delicacy, and low noise are all important ingredients. But in the end, we always come back to the same truth: the sum of the parts has to be greater than the individual performance of the components.
So the first step is not “more power” or another upgrade—it is having a good system consultant and a clear method. A consultant’s job is to build a system around practical criteria: correct component matching; consistent voicing (especially with cables—ideally one cable brand throughout); proper isolation and support (stands and platforms matter); and noise control everywhere.
For me, the biggest enemies are what I call electronicity—the sound of electronics—and also digititis. By digititis I mean the edge, glare, and tension that can creep into digital playback, especially when the chain includes routers, streaming paths, internet noise, and ISP-related contamination. If you do not noise-bust that whole environment, it leaves a dirty veil over the music.
When you remove electronicity and digititis, everything relaxes. The system becomes calmer, more natural, more fluid. And importantly, when digital starts sounding truly like music, in virtually 100% of cases it is because the DAC is being fed correctly—either from a great local music server or a serious CD/SACD transport—into a proper DAC, with the noise floor and the environment properly controlled.
The second step—the premium step—is when you can go further with the room itself. If someone can build a dedicated room, then two specialists are priceless: a high-end electrician who can supply that room properly (ideally on a separate feed), and a good acoustician who can treat the room to a high standard. The goal is not to “kill” the room. A great listening room needs life—it should reflect and deflect naturally, not suck the energy out of the music.
At the end of the day, the proof is simple: the goal is pleasure—physical and mental pleasure—where you stop thinking about equipment and you just enjoy music.
What is the role of audiophile music today?
A great recording is always preferable to a poor one. But you do not stop listening to a record just because it is not audiophile quality, because the musical content can be far greater than the recording quality. Some of the most important, moving music ever made exists in imperfect recordings—whether older archives or modern productions that simply are not engineered to a high standard. Music first.
So what is the role of “audiophile music” today? Too often it becomes a category where sound quality is the main attraction and the musical substance is secondary—almost like a demonstration playlist where only the singer’s name changes.
Where audiophile releases do have real value is when they serve great artists and great performances—when meaningful recordings are presented with the best possible mastering and pressing. In that context, higher fidelity is not a gimmick; it is a way of getting closer to the intention and truth of the performance.
And I do not condemn premium pressings at all. Many people cannot access originals in good condition, and many originals have aged badly or are worn out. So careful reissues, excellent masterings, and even hot stampers can be wonderful—but only if they are applied to great music. The hierarchy matters: great music with great sound is ideal; great music with imperfect sound is still essential—and great sound without great music does not hold my attention for long. No, not for long at all. In actual fact, it can make me feel slightly nauseous.
Is there great new music to enjoy, or have we “heard” it all?
We definitely have not heard it all. There is extraordinary new music to enjoy—the challenge today is not a lack of music, it is how you discover it.
Record shops, CD shops, record and CD fairs, charity shops—and streaming platforms too—are all powerful discovery engines. One interface I genuinely like is Roon, because its discovery tools can surface performers and recordings you already own but may have overlooked, especially when listening from your local library.
A practical approach is: discover and sample via streaming, then buy properly—at a fair, a shop, or via high-quality downloads. And I would underline one point: a downloaded file played locally is a different proposition from a file buffered and streamed over the internet. Do not assume they are “basically the same.” They are not. Local playback is where digital really shows what it can do.
Dieter Rams’ aesthetics in sound?
Yes—I relate to that completely. If we translate “less, but better” into sound, it means the system should stop demanding attention. It should disappear as a product and become an experience.
In a great system, the listener’s brain is not busy decoding artefacts—noise, glare, tension, the sound of electronics. Instead, the brain is gently flooded with music in a way that feels natural and effortless. And that creates something rare: total relaxation. You are not analysing. You are not thinking about hi-fi. You are simply carried by the performance.
So for me, the Rams-like ideal in audio is not minimalism as a fashion statement. It is minimalism as a result: fewer distractions, less interference, less ego—and therefore more music, more calm, more truth.
Unlike most, you put people before products. Why?
Because I get genuinely bored when manufacturers try to persuade me with endless claims, or with the latest technology as if that alone guarantees musical truth. After almost 50 years in this market, I have learned there is only one reliable reference: your ears and your heart.
What touches the heart in audio is not a feature list—it is the sound of music, and the way it makes you feel. So if you start with the product, you often miss the point. If you start with the person, you can build something meaningful.
That is why I put people before products. The real work is understanding the listener: what kind of music they love, how they listen, at what levels, the size and nature of their room, their lifestyle, their priorities—and a hundred other details. Only then can you deliver a system that is truly custom-made for that person, rather than a generic “best system on paper.”
We are in the luxury industry, but is genuine performance the only true aspect and virtue of luxury?
No—genuine performance is essential, but it is not the only virtue of luxury.
Luxury also includes the idea of reward. People want to reward themselves with something that has meaning, and sometimes that meaning is connected to a brand, to heritage, to identity. But the highest form of luxury in our world is not just the object; it is the bespoke service around it.
A truly good consultant should offer a service like a tailor: something fitted perfectly to the individual—their room, their taste, their listening habits, their lifestyle. That level of personal attention is, in itself, a luxury.
As for brands: a brand deserves to be called luxury only if it meets several criteria. It needs longevity and credibility, proper backup and support, real attention to detail, and aesthetics that feel current. And then you need the full ownership experience: packaging, customer care, service, and the sound. Ultimately, luxury is the complete experience—and perhaps the greatest luxury of all is having something close to live performance brought into your own living room.
The health benefits of a properly set-up music system are too often neglected. What is your view?
Absolute Sounds is now approaching almost 50 years in the market, and you have touched a very sensitive point for me—because this has always been part of the objective.
I am careful with the word “healing,” but there is no question in my mind that the real sound of music at home can have powerful restorative and relaxing effects. And to achieve that, you have to become noise-busters first. If noise, glare, and tension are left in the system, the brain never truly relaxes. The music cannot do what it is capable of doing.
This is why noise-busting has been so central to what we do—not as an abstract technical pursuit, but because lowering that electronic stress is what allows a system to deliver music with calm, flow, and emotional truth. When that happens, listening becomes more than entertainment—it becomes genuinely restorative.
And yes—personally, I am a great believer that living with music like that is good for you. I do not claim scientific proof, but I have seen in people—and felt myself—that when music is reproduced properly, it restores you.
We cannot neglect either entry-level or high-end products and systems in bringing people closer to music. Why make such a distinction?
Entry-level is absolutely essential to the existence of this industry. And it is not a second-class experience—because in smaller rooms, with the right matching and set-up, we can build systems at sensible price points that still deliver soulfulness and that restorative power.
Of course, as you move up, you usually get more scale, more ease, more authority, more immersion. The bigger the system—and the more capable the room—the more of it you get. One of my loudspeaker manufacturers once put it beautifully: how do you differentiate between the lower range and the higher range? It is simple—you just get more of it.
But the reason we must take entry-level seriously is that it is where people begin. Good consultants should be just as focused on putting together systems for smaller rooms and lower budgets, because that is how people start a journey that can stay with them for life: a life with music.
