After 30 years of the Compact Disc and just a bit less of pervasive computer-based audio, an entire generation or two have grown up listening mostly to digital two-channel music. Still, many two-channel integrated amplifiers and receivers lack digital inputs, and the many audio/video receivers that accommodate S/PDIF connections do so in an uninspiring manner for music. It’s no surprise, then, that the USB DAC has become one of the most popular categories of home audio equipment.
NAD, which predates the digital era, has provided an optional built-in USB DAC for some of its integrated amps, such as the C 375DAC, which I reviewed last year. NAD also offers several models of USB-DAC-equipped components at a range of prices. The D 1050, D 3020, and D 7050 are members of NAD’s Digital Classic series. The D 3020 and D 7050 are integrated amplifiers, not standalone DACs, but all three share a similar appearance: a vertically oriented case that’s finished in matte black that’s smooth to the touch, beveled a bit at the top front, measures 8.1”H x 2.3”W x 7.3”D, and, in the case of the D 1050 ($499 USD), weighs 2.2 pounds (1kg). The D 1050 has one asynchronous USB, two optical, and two coaxial digital inputs, fully balanced (XLR) and unbalanced (RCA) analog outputs, and a headphone output. The D 3020 ($499) adds aptX Bluetooth streaming, 30Wpc of amplification, a subwoofer output, and an infrared remote, while dropping the analog output and half the S/PDIF ports. The D 7050 ($999) restores the extra S/PDIFs and unbalanced analog outputs, adds DLNA, Apple Airplay, Ethernet, and Wi-Fi network connectivity, and boosts the amplification to 50Wpc. The D 1050 supports resolutions up to 24-bit/192kHz from USB; the other models top out at 24/96.
The world of desktop audio has become crowded of late with dozens of excellent loudspeakers, both passive and powered, that offer excellent sound quality at every possible price point, from such manufacturers as Audioengine, Dynaudio, KEF, Pioneer, PSB, Spendor, Wharfedale, and Zu Audio. As more and more listeners drift away from the traditional listening room and into the world of headphones and desktop systems, the demand for compact and/or wireless loudspeakers continues to grow.
Now, in 2014, as listeners aged 25 to 35 increasingly use a laptop or smartphone as their primary audio source component, consumers value convenience, accessibility, and portability. As growing numbers of these younger listeners jump aboard the train offering portable USB DACs, premium headphones, and headphone amplifiers, it’s likely that the next generation of audiophiles won’t be sitting down to listen to music in dedicated listening rooms, and that’s something that the audiophile community needs to be aware of.
Rotel has been building audio gear for more than 50 years -- a longevity impressive in any business, and especially in audio. Continued ownership by the founding family since inception is an even greater accomplishment. The company originated in Japan, and design is generally done in the UK. Rotel now designs and manufactures models for just about every product category of consumer audio -- their components are distributed by the B&W Group, which owns and distributes Bowers & Wilkins and Classé.
My subject here is what Rotel calls a “classic stereo power amplifier,” the Rotel RB-1582 MkII ($1599 USD). It measures 17”W x 5.5”H x 16”D, and the review sample had traditional black audio-amp styling with some industrial flair added for visual appeal. The center third of the thick metal faceplate is taken up by 15 vertical slots, backed by a textured-plastic panel and surmounted by the company’s deeply engraved name. The finish and feel of the faceplate are very good, and quarter-round corner columns of painted aluminum provide a nice contrast with the metal face. The only control is the Power button at the top left: a large round pushbutton surrounded by a brightly illuminated blue ring. Though at first this was interesting, I found the lighting effect harsh and somewhat bothersome in a dim room. A "dimming ring" is included to fix this.
It’s hard to believe that over ten years have passed since Graham Slee Projects launched the Era Gold V phono preamplifier. With its small size, restriction to moving-magnet cartridges, wall-wart power supply, and unassumingly pedestrian appearance, the Era Gold V won over both vinyl enthusiasts and reviewers alike. Steady improvements in the Era Gold V’s cosmetics and sound have kept it at or near the top of the $1000 phono preamp category.
That wasn’t enough to satisfy Graham Slee. He’s introduced a plethora of phono stages in the decade since, including two based on the Era Gold V: the Jazz Club, which boasts a choice of equalization curves for non-RIAA records; and the Reflex, a super-tuned upgrade.
Slee eventually saw fit to combine the Jazz Club’s selectable EQ and the Reflex’s superior sound in one tidy little chassis. The result is the Graham Slee Revelation phono preamplifier ($1599 USD).
Note: Measurements performed by BHK Labs can be found through this link.
With the digital revolution lowering the cost of processing bits and bringing true high-resolution music to the masses on the relative cheap, very good and affordable vinyl rigs popping up left and right, affordable and impressive class-D digital amplifiers proliferating at a seemingly accelerating rate, and cutting-edge technology trickled down to lower-priced speakers, many of them sounding almost unbelievably good -- well, it’s a good time to be an audiophile. It’s also getting easier and easier to build a downright fantastic-sounding, no-apologies-needed audio system for a fraction of what it would have cost not that long ago. And costs are being lowered from the other side as well: increasingly, manufacturers are selling products directly to customers with generous demo and return policies, virtually halving a product’s final price. Unfortunately, in my opinion, this last trend is a direct cause -- and effect -- of the decrease in the number of good high-end retailers.
Note: Measurements taken in the anechoic chamber at Canada's National Research Council can be found through this link.
It’s common in consumer electronics to see large companies offering products for nearly every segment of the market. To accompany their displays, for example, a maker of TVs will usually sell at least one model of soundbar or home-theater-in-a-box. Typically, such audio components are lower-priced, lower-quality products that make for great add-on sales at big-box stores -- mere afterthoughts in a company catalog that likely also includes cameras, computers, and microwaves.
High-end audio companies are different: most specialize in one sector of the market, making electronics or speakers or turntables or cables. There are a few exceptions -- e.g., Linn, Rega, MBL, and Krell -- but not even these make everything. A recent addition to the latter list is Canadian audio firm Bryston. Best known for building amplifiers, stereo and surround-sound preamplifiers, and, more recently, D/A converters, Bryston hasn’t made a speaker in the half-century they’ve been in business. What began as a pet project for VP of Sales and Marketing James Tanner evolved into a collaboration with Canadian loudspeaker specialist Axiom Audio, and has culminated in the release of two full speaker lines: the A and T models. The two lines share similar driver configurations, but the Ts have larger cabinets, and 8” rather than 6.5” woofers. For the past few months, I’ve been listening to the T series’ lone bookshelf model, the Mini ($2695 USD per pair).
Note: Measurements taken in the anechoic chamber at Canada's National Research Council can be found through this link.
GoldenEar Technology is headed up by industry veterans Sandy Gross, formerly of Polk Audio and Definitive Technology, and Don Givogue, also formerly of Definitive. The company burst onto the audio scene a few years ago with the introduction of their flagship Triton Two, which features a powered subwoofer section, a unique folded-ribbon tweeter, an attractive curved front grille, and incredible sound for $1499.99 each. Since then their product line has expanded to include bookshelf models, on- and in-wall speakers, soundbars, and subwoofers. One of GoldenEar’s latest offerings is the Triton Seven, the smallest in their line of floorstanding Triton models. Unlike the other Tritons, the Seven lacks its own powered subwoofer, but it’s priced at only $1399.98 USD per pair, which is $600 less than the next Triton model up, the Three.
Description
The Triton Seven looks similar to the other Tritons, but lacks the curved steel grille that gives the others their rounded look. It measures 39.75”H x 11”D, and is 7.25”W at the rear of the cabinet, 5.75”W at the front. The cabinet is also deeper at the base than at the top, its nonparallel surfaces designed to prevent the formation of internal standing waves. As with other GoldenEar speakers, the Triton Seven’s sealed Medite cabinet is covered with a cloth sock; to access the drivers, you remove the gloss-black top plate, then loosen and lower the sock. The curved base plate, finished in the same black gloss, softens the speaker’s otherwise angular appearance, gives it a contemporary look, and can be outfitted with spikes or rubber feet (both are provided).
Y’see, I have this love/hate affair with bass. I love the throaty rumble of a low B string slithering among the joists, daring mere sticks and nails to resist tremulous destruction. I hate standing waves, notes resolving with less than cosmic wind, and mud, mud, and more mud. Good bass is unmitigated pleasure; bad bass is eternity in a flea-infested armpit.
Most subwoofers shipped with integrated home-theater systems are workmanlike affairs -- surefooted, solid, with respectable specs and ho-hum sound. Then again, they’re not designed for much more than the passing of interstellar battle cruisers, the thundering tread of a diplodocus, or an überyacht disintegrating in a glorious fireball in the harbor Vieux Port Marseilles. Well, that’s enough, right? Until you play music. Then you become acquainted with these subs’ limitations, their polite ability to render a musical note in acceptable fashion -- but not the note you were intended to hear.
We’ve had some awfully good subwoofers around lately -- the Velodyne Optimum and DD-10+ come to mind. The challenge is to achieve a level of low-end musicality and still have the cojones to recall Krakatoa.
Enter JL Audio’s E-Sub e110 ($1500 USD). If the e110 has even half the moxie of its big brother the Fathom f110, then, in the end, we just may be talking about a new standard of affordability in high-end subwoofers.
From mid-September until mid-May, the centerpiece of my system is a Raysonic SP-300 integrated amplifier. During those cool fall and cold winter months, I call it The Hearth -- its eight EL34 power tubes and four 12AU7 preamp tubes raise the temperature of the room by about 6° F. But come warm spring and warmer summer, I call it Unusable. Then, I need a cool-running solid-state amp to carry the load for the remaining one-third of the year. The E-Series Power Plant Balanced integrated amplifier ($3100 USD), from German manufacturer T+A Elektroakustik, arrived just in time.
Read more: T+A Elektroakustik E-Series Power Plant Balanced Integrated Amplifier
Arcam’s FMJ A19 integrated amplifier doesn’t grab the eye as does, say, a Marantz or a Peachtree Audio product. Its sedate appearance has all the outward appeal of a Jane Austen novel, and its $999 USD asking price doesn’t suggest that it’s anything special. But this slender, unobtrusive box houses a fair bit of quality connectivity, and was largely designed by Arcam’s founder and president, John Dawson. The University of Cambridge graduate started the company in the mid-1970s, while attending a PhD program at his illustrious alma mater, and today, more than 35 years on, is producing some of his finest work. The FMJ A19 is a particular source of pride for Dawson -- without batting an eye, he told me that the amp performs far beyond its price point, and would likely compare favorably to significantly more expensive gear -- a tall claim from someone whom I know to be otherwise soft-spoken. Fortunately, I had a surfeit of high-quality equipment on hand to test just such an assertion.