ollowing on from the initial discussion of the rise and eventual arrival of digital integrated amps as potential cornerstones in future high-end systems and the selection of a cast of likely contenders, it is time to settle into the listening seat for an extended round-robin. With Mark Levinson’s excellent and versatile No.585 setting the standard, now the more ambitious products get to strut their stuff. Goldmund Telos 590 Nextgen If you want an integrated amp to reveal the liberties that the Mark Levinson No.585 takes in pursuit of an easy life, look no further than the Goldmund Telos 590 Nextgen ($25,000). Of the three expensive amps on test here, the Goldmund is both the most affordable and by far the lightest on facilities, with none of the configurable niceties that come with the Jeff Rowland or CH Precision. Instead, what you get is a sound that’s just as uncluttered, direct and uncomplicated as the amp’s casework. Crisp, clean and extremely quick, the Goldmund is all about leading-edge impact and excitement, with just enough harmonic color and weight to back it up. Its balance is distinctive enough to demand a significant shift in speaker placement; leave the speakers in the same place that you would for the CH Precision or Mark Levinson amps and the sound will seem lean and insubstantial; but push them back around a centimeter and it fills out appreciably. Not even an Eskimo would describe the Telos 590’s tonal balance as overly warm, but this amp manages to deliver enough of a tonal palette to satisfy without compromising its unflinching commitment to dynamic response. Those drum patterns on "Little Triggers” (from Elvis Costello’s This Year’s Model [Universal Set 00602517606319]) are shot through the listening room like stray rounds in Saving Private Ryan, while “Pump It Up” could have you positively hyperventilating. Ironically, reach for something like the vivid, quicksilver phrases of Vivaldi, or even the studied patterns and structures of Mozart or early Beethoven and the speed, verve and clarity of the Goldmund breathe life and drama into performances. Never has the phrase "get up and go” seemed quite so appropriate to audio electronics. In combination with the spatial and textural separation, there’s never an issue with identifying instruments or their relative locations, but the emphasis always leans to the space around and between instruments rather than the creation of an overarching set of acoustic boundaries. How much that matters will depend to some extent on your listening biases and musical tastes, but with the Vienna Acoustics Liszt speakers taking up some of the tonal slack, the combination was remarkably exciting and engaging when required -- and subtle, delicate and deft when necessary. Not surprisingly, the Telos/Apertura Edena pairing was astonishingly agile and transparent. While staying just the right side of thin or insubstantial, the Telos 590 Nextgen is definitely for the listener who values shape and structure over tonal beauty. If you are frustrated by systems that sound warm and clogged on the one hand and lean, bland and sterile on the other, the Telos 590 Nextgen paired with an appropriate speaker could be just what the doctor ordered. Cable matching was also interesting with this amp, the Vienna Acoustics speakers thriving on the speed, precision and clarity of the Nordost Valhalla 2, the Aperturas definitely preferring the Crystal Cable Absolute Dream, which added some needed sweetness and body to the top end. CH Precision I1 The I1 ($38,000) finds itself in something of an unusual position here. Not only does its price mean that, more often than not, it finds itself compared to separates solutions with an individual CD player or DAC, preamp and power amp, in the context of the amps here -- at least the pricier examples -- it’s also the warm, cuddly one. Anybody familiar with CH Precision components and their studied neutrality might find that hard to believe, but in this case it’s certainly true, reflecting more on the relative balance of the Jeff Rowland and Goldmund integrateds than on the CH Precision itself. As such, it proved a happier, indeed a notably successful, match with the Apertura speakers, whose lucid articulation and uncluttered clarity thrived on the I1’s inherent sense of calm balance and natural proportion. Acoustic jazz demonstrated the pairings’ capabilities perfectly, especially the beautifully motive yet slinky rhythms of Art Pepper’s “Las Cuevas De Mario” (Smack Up [Analogue Productions CAPJ 012]) maintaining the rhythm section’s smooth integrity even while Pepper’s sax and Jack Sheldon’s trumpet chorus and exchange licks across the top. This sense of proportion, a benevolent grip that keeps things firmly in place without squeezing them to death, is the keystone on which the I1’s performance rests. Go bigger in terms of source material and that stable control is still there, but it’s just not as obvious. Smaller, more intimate music shows its presence, whether that’s girl-and-guitar or a four-piece rock band. As audio qualities go, this might not seem like the most sexy offering out there, but it is one of the most valuable, something reflected in the long-term listenability of the CH Precision amplifier. Switching to the Vienna Acoustics speakers proved to be altogether too much of a good thing. Two slightly reticent performers in tandem produced a sound that was superbly cultured and shaded but lacked drama and the ability to reach out and grab the listener. That’s not a criticism of either product, simply a recognition of the importance of matching. The I1 won’t add drama or color, life or excitement to the signal. Instead it passes it on with as little fuss or interference as possible. Carefully coupled to an appropriate speaker that’s a boon -- but the key word here is appropriate. Although the I1 does offer a number of features that, on paper at lest, make for easier system matching (adjustable feedback ratio being the most obvious), in practice they lacked the finer resolution available from the company’s more expensive offerings and that limited their application. The difference between 0% global feedback and 20% is sonically and musically vast -- so vast as to make it clumsy at best -- yet the I1 offers no intermediary steps. However, having said that, I should also note that this is the most compact and genuinely universal high-end integrated I’ve come across. It really does allow you to do almost anything, at least source-wise. So, for space-poor audiophiles who want a comprehensive, high-quality solution, this is it. Fortunately, its poised and unexaggerated delivery makes it perfect for driving smaller spaces. A little judicious reworking of the control software by CH Precision and this could become the only show in this particular town. Jeff Rowland Design Group Daemon Jeff Rowland’s Daemon ($38,000, increasing to $42,699 on February 1, 2020) is the biggest, heaviest and, as already noted, most powerful unit here by some margin, with paper output considerably more than an order of magnitude greater than either the Gryphon or the CH Precision -- and not far off that when it comes to the Levinson’s 200 watts per channel or the Goldmund’s 215. Nor is that 1500Wpc claim fanciful. The Daemon goes loud -- seriously loud. But does it do more than that?
There’s also another aspect of the Daemon’s design that sets it apart from the crowd: its lack of feet. That might seem like an odd observation to appear at this point in the commentary, but rest assured it has a profound influence on the amp’s performance. Instead of the usual rubber-shod or plastic spacers found on most electronics, the Rowland offers a perfectly smooth Delrin base plate, uninterrupted by feet or fixings. The problem is that if you sit it directly on to the supporting surface it closes down the sound, causing a congested, flattened and mechanical presentation -- one I’ve heard from the amp on a number of occasions in the past. Fortunately, the fix is both cheap and simple: you need to place a trio of mechanical couplers between the amp and its supporting shelf. Anything from basic bamboo bricks to the likes of Nordost Sort Kones or Grand Prix Audio Apexes will do the trick, and while I settled on Apex Minis (with steel balls) in the end, I have to say that the freebie Grand Prix bamboo couplers that come with the Monza rack were remarkably effective and represent astonishing value given the performance gains. The overall effect of lifting the amp clear of its support is to bring clarity, focus depth and dimensionality to the soundstage, welcome warmth and color to voices and instruments. I understand that recent production units now have threaded holes and dimples in the base plate to accept a range of the various aftermarket couplers and you’d be well advised to use them. You can advance the sound still further simply by carefully selecting the digital input you use. The substance and stability that characterize AES/EBU digital connection are just exactly what the Daemon demands, and I found that using the balanced digital option delivered consistent and extremely worthwhile benefits. With support and connectivity sorted, the Daemon starts to hit its stride. Jeff Rowland’s class-D designs might be leading the way as far as the technology goes, but they still possess a specific character that is quite distinct from the more conventional likes of the Mark Levinson or Gryphon units. The Daemon is no exception to that rule. I’ve described this before as a smooth, almost cinematic quality, the sense of the performance unrolling in front of you, a single, uninterrupted sheet of sound. In part this reflects the contained grasp the amps exhibit, but it is also about their dynamic behavior. Play “Little Triggers” and the Daemon delivers the drum beats with massive scale and impact. The lateral placement of the kit is explicit, the shift across it clear, but this is impact that depends on leading-edge speed more than weight. These drum beats are transients rather than the solid blocks served up by the Levinson No.585. Reality lies somewhere in between, but this is the choice you need to make. The other thing this track makes apparent is the way in which the Daemon moves through the hesitations that presage those cannonades. Where the Gryphon or the Goldmund stretch the pause, adding to the anticipation and subsequent impact, the Rowland simply flows across the gap. The pause is still there, but there’s no missing the fact that its importance is diminished. Turn instead to the thunderous, propulsive power of “Pump It Up,” with its relentless beat and solid sound, and the Daemon takes wing, delivering a propulsive, infectious, irresistible sense of drive and power. That smooth, effortless, uninterrupted flow, more deep river than babbling brook, brings a stately poise and measured stability to recordings. The occasional raw edge to the vocals on “Love At The Five And Dime” are scaled with an almost dismissive ease and absence of the edge and glare that infect so many amps if the level is just a shade too high. But don’t be fooled into thinking that you need a sprightly sounding speaker as a result. Unlike conventional amps, where that smooth power would suggest a warm, rounded balance, the Daemon is anything but. Its flowing rather than angular dynamics are mated to a crisp, clean presentation that’s light touch and more about image specificity than overall acoustic space. The Vienna Acoustics speakers were by far the best match here, and if I were looking up market, I’d be short listing the Vienna flagship model, The Music, something from Nola or one of the bigger Wilson Benesch models. With classical music the Daemon's effortless dynamics and smooth delivery favored sweeping vistas over angular intimacy, so Argerich’s Prokofiev 3rd Piano Concerto (Abbado and the Berliner Philharmoniker [HQCD DGG/UCCG 40086]) was more about the fluidity of her phrasing rather than the articulation within those phrases, a more sumptuous rather than dramatic presentation -- and that’s the nub of the issue. I’ve spent far more time describing the Daemon’s performance than the performance of the other amps here. That’s because it is genuinely different -- and consequently it’s hard to label or pigeonhole. A little like a Grand Tourer as opposed to an out-and-out sports car, the Rowland excels on the long haul, taking everything in its stride. It may not give you the same degree of surface feedback from the road and perhaps it doesn’t turn on a sixpence, but its easy, loping pace and unburstable engine offer enticements of their own. Seat of the pants or travelling in comfort -- it’s a serious choice (one that I’ll be grappling with further in the full review), but at least it is your choice to make. Gryphon Diablo 120 The Diablo 120 ($9990 and $4250 for the internal DAC) is Gryphon’s smallest integrated amp, but you wouldn’t know that from listening to it. Despite a relatively modest power rating, it comes across as big, muscular and dynamically generous, long on substance, texture and color, less so on ultra resolution or etched transparency. If that sounds like I like this amp, then you’d be right. I think it’s a little gem, capable and versatile but always, always ready to put the music first. The digital inputs are excellent, with superb timing and dynamic coherence, a ready sense of rhythm and dynamic impact that matches the amplifier element and its analog inputs perfectly. The simple, incredibly elegant and ergonomic remote is one of the few such devices I actually use, and the styling is pure Gryphon -- black and blocky with a squat, powerful look. With all five integrated amps I've covered lined up on a single rack, it’s hard to tell that the Diablo 120 is amongst the most affordable units here. Relatively compact, the only other giveaway is the simple, perforated top plate in place of the more substantially sculpted architecture on the company’s more expensive products.
Talking of substantial architecture, it’s time to describe the Diablo 120’s sonic character. This amp is all about presence, energy and substance. More than any of the other units here, it really captures the raw attitude of the Costello tracks and it makes a pretty good fist of overarching acoustic space too, not just on the Nanci Griffith track but on the Barbirolli/RPO Sibelius 2 as well ([Testament SBT1418] -- a beautiful reissue of the Reader’s Digest original). It may lack the sheer speed and dynamic jump of the Goldmund -- well, pretty much everything does -- but it’s no slouch when it comes to maintaining musical momentum and impact. The poised rhythms and rapid pace changes of Danzas Peregrinas (a stunning concerto for guitar, charango -- a kind of Andean 2x5-string lute -- and winds by Horacio Salinas [John Williams JCW3]) might be more emphatic on the Goldmund, the instrumental separation more explicit on the Rowland, but the Gryphon captures the drama and enthusiasm in the playing of this modern piece. It presents the music with a real sense of performance -- and it does it irrespective of the speakers, allowing the Viennas to project substance and luxurious color, the Aperturas that muscular structural clarity they do so well. True to its heritage, the Diablo 120 can sound a little on the dark, velvety side, but its rounded warmth and rich harmonics never clutter or clog musical progress or rob recordings of expressive range or impact. If the Gryphon Attila was a great little amp, the Diablo 120 builds on that achievement, adding a sense of musical flow and artistic finesse to its predecessor’s impressive structure, substance and organization. The very definition of a budget esoteric performer, the Gryphon might be something of a rare beast, but it’s one that is well worth seeking out. Conclusions -- of a sort Setting these five amplifiers next to each other is as fascinating an experience as it a complicated and demanding process. None of them are light and all of them are picky if you want to get the best out of them. But a little bit of perseverance goes a long way. For me, the Levinson No.585 remains the budget all-rounder, as capable and versatile as it is easy on the ear. It may lack the ultimate musical insight and communicative verve of the Gryphon, but it is easier to match and can accommodate both phono and digital sources (in its No.585.5 form), for those who have or need them. In comparison, the Diablo 120 is the group’s party animal, leaving the No.585 sounding a little staid and sat on. It has just enough power and just enough facilities to get by, but its irrepressible musical enthusiasm is the very stuff of high-end audio, if not on the cheap then at least in the vaguely affordable range. If you need a genuinely full-facilities system with high-end credentials and a performance to match, but space is at a serious premium, the compact but (alarmingly) dense form of the CH Precision I1 will certainly tick all the boxes. One of the most versatile and configurable units I’ve ever used, its ability to chop and change its facilities to match an owner’s requirements is extremely unusual, as is the configurability of those options themselves. For some listeners, the ability to include a pair of independently configurable phono inputs, each with switchable EQ curves, will be reason enough to select the I1. For others, the fact that it can sit at the heart of a complete network music system will carry the day. Although it is easy to get carried away with the remarkable range of configurable options, don’t overlook the I1’s musical performance. It may not be the most obvious or explicit-sounding amp in this mini survey, but that can work to its advantage too, at least as far as long term musical satisfaction goes. Its calm, poised and perfectly balanced view of proceedings is as even-handed as it is tonally neutral, as dependable as it is unflustered. This amp might not be best at anything, but there’s absolutely nothing it doesn’t do extremely well. Mentioning its Swiss DNA might be something of a cliché, but that doesn’t make it any les apposite. Which leaves the Jeff Rowland Daemon and the Goldmund Telos 590 Nextgen, two products that will divide listeners as surely as horn speakers or MQA. Each has its own distinct virtues that make for a love-it or hate-it listening experience. Blindingly fast and dynamically incisive, the Goldmund will be a breathe of fresh air for some listeners, the sound they’ve always been seeking. That speed and transparency are very much Goldmund’s trademark sound, and this amp is definitely le vrai Goldmund, whether that is a question of style or sonic personality. Likewise, the Rowland Daemon brings its own specific qualities to the table. With unburstable headroom and power to burn, this amp could partner with any speaker -- and electrically speaking that is correct. But its unusual combination of smooth, free-flowing musical progression and explicit separation means that, musically speaking, carefully matching it to speakers will reap significant dividends. Its luxury fit and feel are a perfect match for its refined and sumptuous sound, and, once again, there will be those listeners who, on hearing the Daemon (probably in partnership with a carefully chosen speaker) will suddenly feel themselves relaxing into the musical performance. That these five amplifiers are so similar when it comes to top-line facilities and functionality yet are also such individual and distinctive performers simply confirms that we still have a long way to go when it comes to audio reproduction -- and that putting a DAC inside an integrated amp is no short cut to audio nirvana. What it does do, however, is change the very nature of the beast, from an amplifier -- technology where achieving a low transfer-function should be a given -- into a source, where all bets when it comes to musical thumbprint are very definitely off. By condensing three essential system functions into a single box, we’ve shifted the system geography and redrawn the borders. Back when I listened to the Audio Research, VTL and Conrad-Johnson flagship line stages, they were all exceptional, each delivering a different flavor of excellence. Any one could and indeed should, deliver stellar performance; but choosing between them was a little like weighing up the relative virtues of a Margaux, a Mouton-Rothschild and a Cheval Blanc: They all come from Bordeaux, they’re all excellent, but the final decision will be down to personal preference and what you are eating. There again -- are you ever really going to turn your nose up at a Cheval Blanc? The differences between these digital integrateds
aren’t necessarily bigger -- but they are musically far more fundamental. The
inclusion of the DAC has a profound impact on how these units present music and therefore,
ultimately how satisfying they’ll be in a given system, situation and for a given
listener. Rather than three clarets, this is more like being presented with a bourbon, a
Beluga vodka, a hoppy craft IPA, a rioja and a prosecco: They’ll all get you drunk,
but there the similarities end -- and I’ll allow you to decide which is which. As
always, you pays your money and takes your choice -- it’s just that in this case the
choices, the results and the price range are wider than ever. |
