Regular readers may recall that I’m a fan of automatic turntables. There are several reasons for my preference; most notable among them is not having to get up every 20 to 30 minutes to lift the tonearm off the record. When I was much younger, the mere mention of an automatic turntable would elicit raised eyebrows from hardcore audio enthusiasts—and maybe even a condescending sneer. Automatics were criticized for the supposed drag the auto mechanism placed on the tonearm.
But I only ever noticed this drag when the mechanism was first engaged, not while the record was actually playing. And from a circa-1965 Dual 1009 paired with the stereo I built for my parents to the Dual CS 5000 that was my go-to for many years (the latter being a semi-automatic that raised the arm and stopped rotation at the end of a side), throughout my youth I always relied on a Dual ’table that had some automatic capabilities.
Now, the automatic turntable is making a comeback. The latest entry in this category is Pro-Ject’s Automat A2 automatic turntable ($1499, all prices in USD). It bears a close resemblance to later Duals—which isn’t surprising, as the A2 is built in what was once the Dual factory. However, the A2 improves on those Duals in several ways.
Description
For starters, the Automat A2 has a heavy base made of thick MDF, while the platter bearing, tonearm, and motor are mounted on a floating subchassis to minimize interference from external vibrations. The tonearm bearing features a four-point gimbal with steel-tip ball bearings that Pro-Ject makes in-house. The company says this design yields the least possible arm friction.
Until I saw the A2, I thought my Music Hall Stealth was the Darth Vader of turntables. But the A2 has it beat. The extra-thick plinth is painted a serious black, both on the sides and on the top. The black platter is topped by a black felt mat. The arm is also black as night. The only breaks from the monotone are the bright-white legends beside the controls.
And what of those controls? On the lower left of the plinth top is a speed-control switch with 78, 45, and 33 settings. Along the right edge of the turntable’s control surface is a Start/Stop switch, another switch that chooses between 7″ and 12″ records, and the cue control to raise or lower the arm manually.
Supplied accessories include a heavy plastic dust cover that fits into two sturdy hinges extending into the base, a 45-rpm adapter, and a pair of Pro-Ject’s very nice interconnects with a built-in ground wire. In the US, where I’m based, the A2 comes with the excellent Sumiko Oyster Rainier cartridge preinstalled. In other regions, the A2 is supplied with the well-regarded Ortofon 2M Red. As much as I like the 2M Red, I think US customers get the better deal with the Rainier, which I believe more faithfully reproduces a greater range of musical genres. Should you care to, you can upgrade the Rainier to the even better Moonstone with just a substitution of the stylus. The Ortofon cartridge is also upgradable by replacing the 2M Red stylus with a 2M Blue.
The Automat A2 does not include a built-in phono preamplifier. I imagine anyone who can spend $1500 on a turntable probably already owns some electronics with an excellent phono preamp stage.
The back of the A2 is simplicity itself. It contains only the left and right signal jacks, the earth-ground thumbscrew, and the jack for the 12V power supply, all mounted on a heavy-duty metal plate.
Simplicity aside, the Automat A2 is not a featherweight. As you might expect, with its heavy MDF base and floating subchassis, it weighs in at a rather hefty 16 pounds, with dimensions of 5.9″H × 16.9″W × 14.4″D.
The platter is damped cast aluminum, topped, as mentioned, with a felt mat. The A2 is a belt-drive unit, fed by a fairly wide and flat belt—very easy to install. The platter barely rises above the plinth, which is uncommon.
Unpacking and setup
Opening the box reveals two large sheets of warranty information in several languages and a Quick Start Guide. Nestled down the side of the box is a smaller power-supply box, which includes power plugs of several formats, and a bag that contains the drive belt, interconnects, and 7″ adapter.
First, lift out the dust cover in its protective bag. The turntable is immediately below, and it has a thick, circular protective insert that must be removed by pulling straight up. The platter is secured at the bottom of the box.
There are two red plastic spacers that secure the drive mechanism and arm during transport; these must be removed so the turntable will operate properly. With that done, it’s time to install the drive belt. The way that worked best for me was to first loop the belt around the subplatter and then around the drive pulley. Now, install the platter over the spindle. On either side of the platter’s spindle hole is a spring wire. Press the platter down until those wires click into place in a groove on the spindle. Then, put the felt mat in place.
Next, install the counterweight on the back end of the arm and remove the cartridge’s stylus guard. Balance the tonearm by turning the counterweight until the arm is parallel to the top of the plinth. Recommended tracking force for the Rainier cartridge is 1.7gm, so set the antiskating control at the base of the tonearm to 1.7 and the counterweight control on the right side of the arm to 1.7 as well. Finally, insert the interconnects into their color-coded jacks, use the thumbscrew to connect the earth/ground wire, and then plug in the power supply’s connector.
The turntable starts and stops quickly and is extremely quiet during operation. The cue lift lets the arm down very gently—it’s one of the smoothest cue controls I’ve used. And the automatic stop seems to create no drag on the motor.
With the ’table running at the 33⅓-rpm setting, the RPM Speed & Wow app on my Android phone estimated actual speed at 33.52 rpm (+0.57%), with ±0.20% wow. At 45, estimated rotational speed was 44.91 rpm (-0.20%), with ±0.19% wow. Estimates for 78 were 78.21 rpm (+0.27%) and a low ±0.08% wow figure. Tracking force measured with my digital scale was a nearly perfect 1.705gm, versus the 1.7gm indicated.
Listening
As is my custom, I connected the Automat A2 to the Phono 2 input of my Apt Holman preamplifier, while my Music Hall Stealth turntable used Phono 1. The Apt drove my NAD C 275BEE power amp, which powered my Acoustic Energy Radiance 3 floorstanding speakers and fed a Vera-Fi Vanguard Caldera 10 subwoofer. Interconnects to the preamp were those supplied by the manufacturers of the respective turntables. The Apt-to-NAD cabling was Morrow Audio MA1, and speaker cable was Audtek 14-gauge OFC (oxygen-free copper).
I always like to begin my serious listening with an orchestral recording. This time, it was the final movement, “Hoe-Down,” from Aaron Copland’s Rodeo, performed by Louis Lane and the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra (Telarc DG-10078). As you might imagine, “Hoe-Down” is a lively piece, and very loud in places. However, the Rainier cartridge never showed any strain, and the A2 turntable tracked beautifully. The soundstage was broad and deep. The trumpets, which play a major role in the piece, sounded crisp and clear. The rest of the brass section also sounded lively and well balanced. The strings, in their minor parts, sounded just beautiful—silky smooth and seamlessly integrated. And the soft passages were delectable. I thought the overall sound was exceptionally good.
I like using piano recordings as test material, because the piano has about the widest frequency and dynamic ranges of any instrument. I recently purchased Craft Recordings’ reissue of Modern Jazz Performances of Songs from My Fair Lady by Shelly Manne & His Friends (Craft / Stereo Records CR00391). Manne is on drums, André Previn plays piano, and Leroy Vinnegar is the bassist. All three musicians were leading members of the west-coast jazz fraternity of the mid-1950s and early 1960s. The first track is an upbeat version of “Get Me to the Church on Time,” in which Previn establishes the theme, followed by an “explosion” (the liner notes’ term) from Manne. So there are lots of staccato notes, and all of them were reproduced by the A2 as they should have been: strongly and tightly. As is typical of early stereo, the piano is hard left while the bass and drums are hard right, leaving a hole in the middle. No matter; Previn’s playing came through as precise and forceful, and there was no sense of overload. The same was true of Manne’s sometimes-assertive drumming, with powerful snare and tom-tom strikes rendered accurately. Vinnegar’s walking bass was subdued but just kept keepin’ on, and was always clearly discernible. For a disc recorded in 1956, the sound quality was amazing, and I really liked the way the A2/Rainier combination handled it.
It’s been some time since I used Art Garfunkel’s “Finally Found a Reason” from his Fate for Breakfast LP (Columbia JC 35780) as a reference piece. It’s a fairly simple arrangement: two acoustic guitars, a synthesizer, two backing voices, and a drummer whose only job is to keep the beat with a softly played bass drum—it’s nearly the sound of a boot heel keeping time. The guitars have metal strings, so their sound is bright, and they’re picked, not strummed. They’re positioned on either side of Garfunkel, with the lead playing more loudly on the right. The delicacy of the picking was reproduced stunningly, while the voices of the backing singers surrounded Artie like a halo. There was great depth to the sound, with the synthesizer discernibly positioned behind the backing singers and the steady beat of the drum just underneath the lead guitar. I won’t say it sounded as if the group was in my room, but the realism of the reproduction was about as good as I’ve ever heard it.
The recording of “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” by Crosby, Stills & Nash from their eponymous first album (Atlantic SD 8229) is rather elaborate, given that it’s just three guys and a drummer. Throughout most of the song, the three vocalists sound as if they’re singing through one microphone, with Stills on lead slightly in front. The main acoustic guitar (Crosby?) is hard left, while the other acoustic, as well as an electric (Stills?), is hard right. The bass (played by Stills) is just to the right of the singers. But during the track’s final section, when Crosby and Nash are singing “doo-doo-doo-doo-doo” squarely in the middle, Stills’s lead vocal is off to their left. It’s a fine recording, and I was impressed with the Automat A2’s performance. The acoustic guitar strokes were conveyed with precision, as was the unique timbre imparted by the guitars’ alternate tuning. In the first three sections, the three voices were distinct, but their harmonies blended beautifully through the Oyster Rainier. The percussion in the right channel during the latter parts of the song had satisfying snap and no hangover. Another really fine job by the Automat A2.
Back in the 1970s, Rita Coolidge was known as “The Delta Lady” because of the Southern accent that came through when she sang. She started as a backup singer, but gained fame with a little help from friends such as Kris Kristofferson, Stephen Stills, Graham Nash, and Leon Russell, among others. She did a particularly tasty version of the Dave Mason song “Only You Know and I Know” on her 1971 album Nice Feelin’ (A&M SP 4325). With their heavy Memphis blues sound, the backing instruments remind me of the Stax/Volt house band. Coolidge is squarely in the middle of the soundstage, along with the keyboards and drums—you might think she’s standing on top of the piano, with the drums right behind her. Electric guitars surround her. The bass doesn’t make its location obvious, but it’s prominent in the mix. The Automat A2 had my toes tapping—I found its portrayal of rhythm exceptional. Coolidge’s voice, which spans several octaves, was clear and clean, slightly cradled in reverb. I enjoyed the interplay between the guitars early in the song, as their tones were extremely intense. In all, a very enjoyable performance.
One of my favorite groups is Earth, Wind & Fire. From Earth, Wind & Fire: Their Ultimate Collection (Columbia/Sony 19439951261), I picked “September” as a test track. On record, the physical arrangement of the musicians matches what I’ve seen in their TV performances. Lead signer Maurice White and high tenor Philip Bailey are out front with the guitars, keyboards, bass, and percussion. The drummer is just behind in the center, while the Phenix Horns (three trumpets, a trombone, and a sax) sound as if they’re on risers just off to the left of the singers and well behind. Obviously, the soundstage was deep and quite broad—as it needed to be with 15 or 16 people in the group. The Automat A2 did a great job of reproducing the tight brass phrases. The bass was strong with good slam, an element that’s missing on some of their other albums. Seriously—this one got my motor hummin’!
Comparison
At $1499, the Automat A2 is quite close in price to my reference turntable, the Music Hall Stealth, which sells for $1649 and comes with a pre-fitted Ortofon 2M Blue cartridge. For this comparison, I selected the Thad Jones and Mel Lewis big band’s version of Stevie Wonder’s “Don’t You Worry ’Bout A Thing,” from their 1974 album Potpourri (Philadelphia International KZ 33152). I was very pleased with the performance of both turntables in the midrange. Each ’table was smooth when called for and tight as a drumhead when need be. However, the Music Hall/Ortofon combination beat the Automat A2/Rainier at the frequency extremes: the Ortofon sounded stronger both at the bottom and the top of the range. With the Automat A2, I felt I was missing a bit of heft down low and a bit of sparkle up top. Overall, both vinyl setups turned in fine performances, but I thought the Ortofon was a wee bit better. The Stealth/2M Blue combo costs $150 more than the Automat/Rainier setup, however, and it lacks the latter’s automatic record handling.
Conclusion
As I mentioned, I like automatic turntables, and the Automat A2 shows how far automatic-turntable technology has advanced. The mechanism operated almost silently, with no apparent drag on the motor. It handled records gently and played them superbly. Although the Automat A2 is not inexpensive, it impressed me as, very possibly, the best fully automatic turntable I’ve reviewed. Its reproduction of nearly every piece I threw at it was perhaps not outright exciting, but always steady and smooth. If you, too, appreciate the convenience of an automatic turntable, by all means, examine the Pro-Ject Automat A2 and see if you don’t agree.
. . . Thom Moon
thom@soundstagenetwork.com
Associated Equipment
- Speakers: Acoustic Energy Radiance 3; Vera-Fi Audio Vanguard Caldera 10 subwoofer
- Power Amplifier: NAD C 275BEE
- Preamplifier: Apt Corporation Holman
- Analog Source: Music Hall Stealth turntable with Ortofon 2M Blue cartridge
- Interconnects: Manufacturer supplied for turntables; Morrow Audio MA1 analog from preamp to power amplifier
- Speaker cables: Audtek 14-gauge OFC cable terminated in banana plugs
Pro-Ject Audio Systems Automat A2 turntable and Sumiko Oyster Rainier cartridge
Price: $1499
Warranty: Two years, parts and labor
Audio Tuning Vertriebs GmbH
Pro-Ject Headquarters
Wirtschaftspark A5
Analogweg 1
2130 Mistelbach
Austria
Website: www.project-audio.com/en/
US distributor:
Fine Sounds Americas
1763 95th Ave N
Maple Grove, MN 55369
Phone: (510) 843-4500
Website: www.pro-jectusa.com
