1965 Buick Lesabre 400 on 2040-cars

Auto blog

Automakers' sound systems: Crank it, don't yank it

Years ago, one of the first things most music lovers did after buying a new vehicle was drive to an aftermarket stereo shop to get the crappy stock components swapped for better gear. And you'd typically get not only better sound but also more bang (and boom) for your buck. But in the past decade or so, the overall quality of OEM audio has dramatically increased, while car electronics became more complex, removing the incentive for most new vehicle owners — and all but the most hardcore DIYer — to start from scratch. In 2010, I did a comparison of the average costs for OEM electronics vs. similar offerings from the aftermarket, and back then automakers' stock premium systems were by far the best bargain — and are probably an even better value now. The premium 14-speaker, 1,200-watt JBL system in the all-new 2019 Toyota Avalon is a prime example of this trend. It's standard on the top two Limited and Touring trims and is available as a $680 audio upgrade on the XLE and XSE. I doubt you can even buy 14 speakers and 1,200 watts of amplification from the aftermarket for 700 bucks, much less have it all installed. And because the system is bundled with Toyota's Entune infotainment system, Apple CarPlay and a surround-view camera, removing the head unit means you would likely lose these features. Another advantage of OEMs and their audio partners is they can design the car around the audio system. In the past, automakers would typically place speakers where convenient for packaging, not for optimal sound reproduction, and audio engineers were forced to compromise. But as with the Avalon's premium JBL audio system, this is starting to change. At a recent behind-the-scenes peek for media into the process of developing the system, Toyota and Harman engineers delved into the minutia of sealing the inner panel of the front doors to create an enclosure for 6x8-inch woofers, making space in the pillars for JBL horn tweeters and extensively measuring the acoustic properties of the interior to tune the sound to the space. I'm met some creative and skilled car stereo installers, but none with a degree in psychoacoustics. The system is also the first to feature Quantum Logic Surround that creates a multi-channel listening experience from two-channel sources. And it includes Harman's Clari-Fi processing that "rebuilds key details lost" in compressed audio formats used by streaming music services and MP3s.

Junkyard Gem: 1957 Buick Special Riviera Sedan

While I find plenty of 1950s Detroit cars in quick-inventory-turnover self-service wrecking yards during my travels, they tend to be the ordinary post sedans that were built by the millions during the heyday of the three-on-the-tree manual transmission and nuclear-attack symbols on car radios. The more sought-after convertibles, coupes, and four-door hardtops are tougher to find in such yards, which makes today's 1957 Buick Special Riviera in a yard in northeastern Colorado an A-List Junkyard Gem. During the late 1950s, the Special ranked at the bottom of the Buick prestige hierarchy just below the more upscale Super and Century. Of course, this was the era of Alfred Sloan's "Ladder of Success" and the lowliest Special outranked even the nicest Olds Ninety-Eight on the Swank-O-Meter. If you were the Buick-driving Joneses and your neighbors had proletarian Chevrolets, aspirational Pontiacs, or petit-bourgeois Oldsmobiles, they were failing to keep up with you… but then you'd see a new Cadillac and feel intense envy for your victorious rival. The Ladder of Success collapsed later on, when the top-trim-level Chevy Caprices began to compete against their Cadillac Calais big brother, but it was still standing tall in 1957. The Riviera name ended up being used for its own distinct model starting in 1963 and continuing nearly into our current century, but in 1957 it was a trim level designation, used to indicate a Century or Special sedan with the then-radical pillarless hardtop design. This car listed at $2,780, which comes to a cool $27,630 in 2021 dollars. That price included the 364-cubic-inch (6.0-liter) Buick Nailhead V8 engine, rated at 250 horsepower and enough torque to peel 1957's rock-hard bias-ply tires right off their rims. The Special had a three-on-the-tree column-shift manual as standard equipment, but the original buyer of this car sprang for the extra $220 ($2,185 today) to get the Dynaflow transmission. While the shift indicator looks just like the ones on GM cars equipped with the two-speed Powerglide, the Dynaflow was an odd beast used only in Buicks; while it had gears for two forward speeds, the driver had to select low gear manually. Otherwise, a complex torque converter rig provided an experience something like today's CVTs (though with better smoothness and much more wasted power), in which the car stayed in high gear all the time and used the torque converter to multiply as needed.

Junkyard Gem: 1962 Buick LeSabre 2-Door Sport Coupe

American car shoppers looking for a full-sized hardtop coupe in 1962 couldn't go wrong with the offerings from The General. Chevrolet would sell you a snazzy new Bel Air sport coupe for just $2,561 (about $23,800 today), but those Joneses next door wouldn't have felt properly shamed if you put a new proletariat-grade Chevy in your driveway. No, to really stand tall during the era of Alfred Sloan's Ladder of Success, you had to go higher up on the GM food chain. For the B-platform full-sized cars of 1962, that meant the Pontiac Catalina/Bonneville beat the Chevy, the Oldsmobile 88 was the next step up the ladder, and at the very top was the Buick: the hot-rod Invicta and its swanky LeSabre sibling. To go beyond that, you had to move up to a C-platform Buick Electra or Cadillac. Today's Junkyard Gem is a once-luxurious '62 LeSabre, now much-faded in a northeastern Colorado boneyard. The reason GM shoppers got so bent out of shape about the "Chevymobile" episodes of the late 1970s, in which some GM cars received engines made by "lesser" GM divisions, was that each division had its own family of V8 engines during the 1950s and 1960s and they weren't supposed to be mingled. The '62 LeSabre got a 401-cubic-inch (6.5-liter) Nailhead engine (so called because the valves were unusually small), rated at 265, 280, or 325 (depending on what kind of compression ratio and carburetion you wanted). That's not crazy horses for a big-displacement, two-ton luxury coupe of its era, but the small valves allowed for combustion chambers optimized for one thing: low-rpm torque. This 401 has the two-barrel carburetor, so it made either 412 or 425 pound-feet of torque. That's just a bit less than the mighty Cadillac's engine that year, and definitely sufficient to get this car moving very quickly. You had to pay a fat premium on the Chevrolet, Pontiac, and Oldsmobile B-bodies to get an automatic transmission (a three-speed column-shift manual was base equipment in those cars), but a Turbine-Drive (formerly known as the Dyna-Flow) automatic was standard issue on the 1962 LeSabre. This was an interesting transmission design that traced its origins back to the 1942 M18 Hellcat Tank Destroyer and used torque-converter multiplication to provide a CVT-like experience with no perceptible shifts (the driver could select a separate low gearset manually, so the shifter looks just like the one on the true two-speed Powerglide transmission).