If high-end audio is to remain relevant into the 2030s and beyond, it will be thanks to products like T+A Elektroakustic’s Solitaire T headphones. Admittedly, a pair of $1700 headphones (all prices in USD) is not something the average consumer has been crying out for. But let’s say you’re nominally into hi-fi and often listen to music on a modest desktop system while working virtually for The Man. The tunes you stream as a keyboard jockey are interrupted by frequent calls from colleagues aimed at driving process improvement and client satisfaction. To decompress, you wander outside for a walk, eager for a change of scenery—but not so eager for the sound of cars buzzing by or the din of construction in the distance. Your evenings are punctuated by doing the dishes, prepping a kid’s lunch, and wiping down counters to the soundtrack of a favorite podcast or YouTube video. Maybe, if you’re really motivated, you’ll stay up late to watch a TV show on your iPad or play a videogame on your preferred gaming system. Rinse. Repeat.
I’ve known about Kharma for a very long time. I’ve seen their speakers reviewed in magazines and encountered them at shows over the years. And it’s always been the beautiful, raked, “entry-level” Elegance models that sprang to my mind on hearing the Dutch brand’s name. For one reason or another, I’ve never had the opportunity to sit and listen to a pair, but 18 months ago I began a conversation with Vivienne van Oosterum, the daughter of Kharma founder, Charles van Oosterum, that ultimately led to a pair of Kharma’s Elegance dB7-S loudspeakers (US$31,250 per pair) being deposited on my driveway, in mid-December 2022.
A few months back I wrote about the system in my new living room, which includes an NAD M10 V2 integrated amplifier-DAC, Focal’s 1000 IW6 two-way in-wall loudspeakers, and KEF’s KC62 microsubwoofer. I love the KC62 because it’s perfect for my use case: a tiny 10″-cubed footprint married to extension and control below 30Hz. It looks unobtrusive in my room while still offering proper audiophile performance. If there’s an asterisk to this heroic little subwoofer, it’s the matter of output. Above a certain volume its extension begins to roll off to ensure that the little-sub-that-could doesn’t blow itself to pieces, and no matter how accomplished the hardware or DSP is, there is no replacement for displacement (as they used to say in the car world).
A system is only as good as the room that it’s in, and as I explained in my last article, I’ve had some pretty mediocre rooms over the last decade. But my now-six-month-old daughter gave me and my wife an excuse just over a year ago to move from South Philadelphia to the Philly suburbs in search of additional space and more in the way of peace and quiet. One of my non-negotiables for our new abode was a finished basement that I could turn into a listening room, and after failing to land any of the first five homes we bid on in the historic pandemic housing market, we struck gold on our sixth and landed our dream home.
Since I began writing for SoundStage! back in 2011, I’ve written from—erm—compromised listening spaces. My grad school apartment building was full of senior citizens whom I respected too much to play music too loudly. My first apartment with my now-wife was a 750-square-foot concrete studio in Center City Philadelphia that was an acoustic nightmare. And our century-old, 1020-square-foot first home together, in South Philadelphia, was a long, narrow row house that left my stereo most of the way down the long wall of its open-floor-plan first floor, resulting in horrendous room modes. I vowed that if we ever lived that suburban life, I would have two things: (1) a proper listening room that was truly my own, with as few compromises as possible, and (2) a big family room with a nice television and an audio system that was both inconspicuous and super user friendly.
I don’t do cable reviews very often. In fact, it’s been eight years since I reviewed some. I know some audiophiles go deep on cables and tweaks, but I’ve always been a set-it-and-forget-it kind of guy. So while my system as a whole has slowly moved upscale over the years, my hodgepodge of affordable cables from AudioQuest, DH Labs, and Dynamique Audio decidedly does not belong in the mix with my $11,000 Hegel Music Systems H590 integrated amplifier-DAC and $13,999.99/pr. KEF Reference 3 loudspeakers. Then the e-mail arrived: Siltech is updating its Classic Series of cables, and would I have interest in getting some in? Uh, I sure would.
Though I majored in history in college, I’m not the kind of guy who lives in the past. Growing up, I found it confusing when old people would play music from when they were young and then talk about decades past as if they were the golden years and the world had been going to shit ever since. Why? What was I missing? That crossed my mind when I unboxed Graham Audio’s LS5/9 loudspeakers recently ($6795 USD per pair).
I’m closing in on almost 100 reviews for the SoundStage! Network, and for the very first time, I find myself in possession of a product before it has been officially announced. That, in and of itself, feels pretty good. But when a 224-pound pallet lands on your doorstep from Sonus Faber — shipped directly from the company’s factory in Arcugnano, in Italy’s Vicenza province — the satisfaction and expectation are all that much greater. Enter the third offering in SF’s Heritage Collection, the Maxima Amator ($15,000 per pair, all prices in USD).
I’ve been to a couple of dealer events over the years, and they’re all pretty similar. There are free snacks and usually alcohol. Two or three rooms might be set up for group listening, with a couple of talking heads -- sales guys or someone of note from the manufacturer -- giving a brief spiel, before talking through several pieces of well-trodden jazz music. Questions are encouraged, with brief answers the norm.
There’s no question about it: it’s kind of lame to call the presser for a new loudspeaker an “event.” A plywood box with some extruded-aluminum and fancy drivers doesn’t get the blood flowing quite like the introduction of automotive stalwarts, such as Ferrari’s V8-powered sports car models, Porsche’s iconic 911, or BMW’s benchmark-setting M3. But in the case of the Bowers & Wilkins 800 D3, the newest flagship of the company’s legendary 800-series, the “event” moniker strikes me as warranted.
I often find that a company’s products are a reflection of their creator, and in the case of Magico’s loudspeakers, the resemblance to Alon Wolf is unmistakable. The founder of the Hayward, California, manufacturer is a serious man, one who talks with an unwavering sense of purpose. As I sat across from him in his office, his fanatical attention to quality became quickly apparent. Behind him was part of a medium-format camera on a gorgeous wooden tripod that he used to take the stunning photographs that adorn the walls of his office. On his wrist was a Japanese watch with a movement that makes a Patek Philippe’s look amateurish by comparison. And on his desk were a couple of drivers from a competing loudspeaker maker that he eagerly compared to his own designs, explaining in detail how the materials and methodologies that Magico employ offer superior performance. For Wolf, appearance comes a distant second to technical excellence. “We build loudspeakers, not furniture,” he told me matter-of-factly.
Being cool isn't really a matter of choice. It's one of those things that one either has or doesn't. Clothing, style, surrounding company -- each of these can certainly add a little luster to the patina, but they merely serve to adorn one's intrinsic character with a bit more flair. Sooner or later, true nature will reveal itself. This thought crossed my mind on April 29 as I made my way south from New York City's Penn Station to the meatpacking district, en route to Sonus Faber's intimate press event for its new Chameleon line of loudspeakers.
On November 7 and 8, 2014, MartinLogan demonstrated its new Neolith loudspeaker ($80,000 USD per pair), the finest electrostatic loudspeaker (ESL) the Kansas-based firm has ever produced. I arrived at Overture Audio, located in Wilmington, DE, with high expectations, and was not disappointed. The Neolith, it should be noted, is pretty massive, standing 74.8" tall, and weighing in at 385 pounds. Finished in a beautiful Rosso Fuoco finish that looked automotive-grade, the phenolic resin enclosure was impressive, with a rakish, angular design that smacked of the Lockheed Martin F-117 Stealth Fighter, or possibly something from Automobili Lamborghini.
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