We’re a gregarious bunch, for the most part, here in our little community of nine townhouses. An open garage with a running power tool is often all it’ll take for one or two neighbors to amble over and see what’s up.
I was running my circular saw to make a little spacer on which to stand my center-channel speaker after a stereo-rack reorganization, when Quentin, who lives two doors down, came by for a natter. Quentin knew about my involvement in the hi-fi industry, and, after he’d inspected my work, he shot me a question.
“What do you know about alternatives to Sonos?” he asked. “I’ve become increasingly dissatisfied with my Sonos setup—I went all in with them, and the whole experience is starting to piss me off royally.”
“Do you just stream music?” I queried.
“No; I have lots of files on my network share. That’s what makes it complicated.”
“Well, there’s a few choices,” I said. “If you like to putter, you can build an open-source system using the Squeezebox platform, which is still supported. But it’s a real DIY solution that can be quite janky. The other end of the spectrum is Roon, which is rugged, colorful, and very user-friendly. But it’s not free—there’s either a monthly fee or a one-time payment. It’s not cheap either way.”
“It’s got to work seamlessly,” Quentin responded, “because my wife, Laurielle, also uses it. And I don’t want to buy into an expensive ecosystem—I’ve had enough of that with Sonos.”
“Then perhaps Bluesound is your best bet,” I countered. “Their BluOS software runs on a variety of reasonably priced components, and it has a great reputation for being easy to use and set up.”
With that, we parted ways. Our conversation rattled around in my head though. Sonos has been taking it on the chin for a while now, with the product’s app interface being the focus of much hate. Given this generalized dissatisfaction, many people must be in Quentin’s shoes. I made a point of following up with Quentin a week later. He had researched the BluOS operating system and was considering how he might proceed.
I moved in for the kill.
“How would you like to try a Bluesound system? Perhaps with a pair of speakers?” We’d also discussed an integrated powered-speaker solution, but Quentin’s Sonos experience had soured him on that approach. He was adamant that he wanted separates. “I could write up the process of your journey in my column,” I continued. “Everybody wins.”
We sat down for a coffee and mapped out some possibilities. Bluesound is owned by Lenbrook Industries, which is local to me in the Greater Toronto Area, and a quick email found them interested in participating in this little project. The $759 (all prices in USD) Bluesound Powernode seemed an obvious choice. It’s a one-box solution, featuring a streamer, DAC, and two-channel amplifier. There’s a ton of tech packed into that one box. Both Quentin and Laurielle were drawn to its compact size and the ease with which they could hide it away.
On the speaker side of things, we checked out PSB, another brand owned by Lenbrook. One-stop shopping and its associated simplicity made sense. Quentin and Laurielle were both drawn to PSB’s Passif 50 ($2499/pair), as its retro aesthetic fit in perfectly with their mid-century modern decor.
One short aside here. Quentin is very logically minded. Once Lenbrook was on board, I suggested that he snoop around on both Bluesound’s and NAD’s websites looking at different options—NAD is also owned by Lenbrook; and many NAD amplifiers have built-in streamers that use the BluOS platform. Accordingly, Quentin created a spreadsheet with possible choices, digging down as far as power ratings, DAC architecture, and distortion measurements.
I looked over his spreadsheet. “Don’t get dragged down too far into the specifications, Quentin,” I advised. “All of Bluesound’s and NAD’s products are competently designed. Let’s just get one of their streamers in and we can start there. Listening will tell you the story.”
Lenbrook shipped the Powernode and the Passif 50s right quick. Over the past 23 years in this gig, I’ve become jaded about the arrival of new gear. It’s more of a chore than anything, finding space for the shipping boxes, moving new gear in, boxing old stuff up. Seeing it through Quentin and Laurielle’s eyes was refreshing—here they received two cool components to evaluate without committing to a purchase. All they had to do was allow me to invade their home for photos and provide me with their honest, unbiased opinions.
Setting up the Passif 50s and the Powernode didn’t take long. The speakers were self-explanatory, the supplied stands bolting together with little fuss. We installed the Passif 50s one on each side of their fireplace, across from the sofa. The Powernode was startling in its simplicity. Quentin downloaded the BluOS Controller app, connected the Powernode to power, and hooked up the speakers with a set of my over-the-top Nordost Tyr 2 cables (worth more than three times the value of the system itself).
And the Powernode showed up instantly on Quentin’s Samsung phone. It was that simple. Quentin provided his Wi-Fi credentials and the setup was done.
Originally, Quentin and Laurielle streamed their music from Spotify, but I had mentioned to Quentin that Tidal provides higher-resolution streams and that if we were going this far, he should consider swapping over. Bless his heart, he took my recommendation. So Quentin entered his Tidal credentials into the BluOS app and we were up and running.
The only fussy part was entering Quentin’s network-share address into the BluOS’s library location, and this was no fault of the app. Forward slashes? Backward slashes? Permissions and passwords! After two minutes of trial and error, the Powernode found the directory and began cataloging the music. The process seemed somewhat slow, but there are so many variables involved—network speed and I/O speed of the server being the main ones—that I’m not about to complain about the Powernode. We just left it to do its thing and took a listen to some tracks on Tidal.
The Passif 50s sounded pleasant driven by the Powernode. A little congested and one-dimensional, but these were brand-new components that needed some playing time. Quentin was thrilled, stating that the sound—right at first listen—was so far beyond what his Sonos system delivered that there was no point in comparing the two. Quentin installed the BluOS Controller app on Laurielle’s phone, and once that was working, I left them to play around with the system and burn it in.
I checked in a week later. Quentin had replaced my Nordost cables with generic 12ga speaker wire. The Powernode was working flawlessly, and I sat down for a chat and another listen. Quentin and Laurielle were well acquainted with actual stereo systems, having owned and listened to some decent-quality gear over the years. When they renovated their basement four years ago, they purchased a Sonos surround system for use when watching movies and playing games. The Sonos gear worked well for their needs, and they decided to purchase a Sonos Five speaker to provide music for the home’s main level. This was where their dissatisfaction began.
“It’s a Bluetooth speaker that doesn’t have Bluetooth,” said Quentin, his voice redolent with scorn for a device that doesn’t fulfill its purpose. “The app is poor. Admittedly it’s getting better, but it’s soured me on the thing. Add in the fact that it sounds like it’s playing through a pair of socks, and I’ve just never warmed up to it.
“The PSBs sound so much better. It sounds like music now. I can hear where instruments are placed. The bass is great. We both love it.”
Laurielle came over and sat with us. “Oh yes, it’s wonderful. We listen all the time now,” she said.
I played a few tracks through the system, using Quentin’s phone to cue them up. The Bluesound app was most intuitive—not as feature-rich as my Roon setup, but it was snappy-responsive and cleanly laid out.
The sound was very good. Tonal balance was spot on, with creditable bass and a clean, unfatiguing top end. The imaging was decent also, with reasonable depth to the soundstage. Visually, the Passif 50s blended right in with the wood floors and MCM vibe.
After we’d listened for a while, Quentin fired up the Sonos Five, which was sitting on its shelf in the corner. While actual music came out of that box, it was a poor imitation of reality and sounded dreadful compared to the purpose-built PSBs driven by a real amp with a decent DAC playing lossless files.
A day later, I invited Quentin and Laurielle over to give my reference system a listen. My neighbor Rob and I had just moved the DALI Epikore 9s in after he’d loosened them up in his house while I was away in Warsaw, Poland, covering Audio Video Show 2024, so it was sounding pretty damn good down there.
They both sat down on the couch and I fired up a couple of great-sounding tracks. Quentin had heard my big rig before, but this was Laurielle’s first time hearing a system of this quality. I could see her astonishment at how it sounded. “It’s like the musicians are right in front of me! This is incredible! How much does this . . . cost?” She waved her arms toward the assorted conglomeration of separates, cables, and turntables.
“I haven’t added it up, but significantly more than $100K,” I responded. Laurielle looked at Quentin, and I could see her forming a disconnect between how the PSBs sounded driven by the Powernode and the massive, wall-to-wall impact the DALIs presented when strapped to the mighty Hegel H30A amplifier. Laurielle had contracted what I like to call The Fever.
“Something to consider—the system at your place sounds really, really good, especially given that it costs less than the cheapest power cord in my system, but I don’t think you’ve arrived at the knee of the price/performance curve. Better components can easily elevate your system to a significantly improved sound quality. Without resorting to all this stuff. That is, if you’re interested. If you care.”
“Oh, we care,” said Laurielle. “Do you have any ideas?”
Now that’s a silly question. Stay tuned as we upgrade Quentin and Laurielle’s system.
Jason Thorpe
Senior Editor, SoundStage!
