So far so good. Now it comes to mounting the tonearm -- and the first major culture shock. Normally at this point you’d be reaching for your pre-cut, precision-machined armboard, specifically designed to achieve the accurate pivot-to-spindle distance so critical to optimum cartridge alignment. Well, as a freestanding design, the 7 CB needs no armboard. Instead it just needs enough spare, level plinth to set its base on. With the cartridge set straight ahead in the headshell, you place the dog-leg alignment protractor over the spindle, drop the stylus into the dimple at the elbow and then simply adjust the position of the base until the tonearm is parallel to the protractor’s extension -- just like you do with an SME V.

The difference here is that once you’ve decided where the 'arm lives, it simply sits there. There’s nothing keeping it in place, For anybody brought up in the audio environment of the UK in the late 1970s and '80s, that’s beyond alien. In a market where, “There’s tight and then there’s Linn tight” became a mantra, the notion of anything in an audio system that isn’t fixed securely is complete anathema, so the idea of a tonearm that’s free to wander is a serious challenge. Even if you escaped direct contact with the Linn philosophy, the spreading ripples of its ubiquitous influence still impacted international thinking to the extent that over-engineering is almost universally seen as a positive attribute. Against that backdrop, free-range components, especially those where relative geometry is so critical, are always going to register as different at best, with a sliding scale through strange to bizarre at worst.

In practice, any movement of the RF7 can be inhibited by using either tacky spacers or M3 spikes beneath the base (depending on the supporting surface) which in combination with the ‘arm’s 2kg mass should keep its position relatively stable. Even so, a quick check with the protractor every so often will do no harm, especially given the physical resistance to larger movements (like cueing) that goes with the damped bearing design. Personally, I’ve been quite tempted to use the spikes to scribe an armboard and then drill shallow recesses to fix them in place.

By now, anybody who has visualized the alignment procedure will probably be foaming with indignation. The RF7-CB describes a tracing arc with a 7” radius and a single null point, compared to the dual nulls and virtual 14” radius of an offset 9” tonearm, or over 18” for a 12” 'arm. Surely the side force that results will be horrendous. Actually, no. I won’t bore you with the math, although it’s readily available if you want it, but the offset headshell introduces its own issues, and in reality the maximum side force experienced by a cartridge mounted in the RF7 is actually lower than the minimum side force experienced with a conventional, offset 9” tonearm. This is the nub of the argument. Essentially, what the zero-offset brigade is claiming is that the tracing distortion that results from the short radius is more than compensated for by the reduction in errors caused by lateral displacement of the generator armature and by the increased rigidity of the shorter armtube. Back in the real world, it ain’t quite that simple, with a host of variables, like cartridge compliance and the materials, shape and mechanical structure of the tonearm tube all playing a significant roles. But even allowing for the First Law of Audio (It ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it.) these numbers are definitely food for thought -- as well as a comforting presence when you start listening to the RF7 and you are faced with the disparity between what you know and what you are hearing.

y now you should have concluded that the Rigid Float ‘arm probably sounds as different as it looks -- and you’d be right. In that previously mentioned blog, I likened the difference to that between a horn speaker and a conventional box design stuffed with dynamic drivers. Although both products set out to achieve the same goal, the route they travel and the results they achieve are decidedly different. It’s a facet of the distance between reality and reproduction that the same target can produce such different performances -- but our reaction to them is also a reflection of our reliance on or acceptance of the familiar. Your first exposure to a horn speaker will likely see you questioning (or craving?) the additive and subtractive flaws you’ve come to accept in more conventional designs. The Rigid Float will divide opinion in exactly the same way. For some it will be the metaphorical equivalent of ripping away the clouds to reveal the clarity of bright, bright sun. It will have others diving for the nearest shade.

When I first heard the Rigid Float tonearms in my own system, I couldn’t get the image of a toboggan run out of my mind. All that momentum, energy and excitement made listening the musical equivalent of launching oneself head first down the Cresta Run on what amounts to a glorified tea tray: exciting certainly, but comfortable? Not so much. That was a few years ago now and I’ve been flirting with the 'arms ever since, both fascinated by their musical impact and challenged by the mental gymnastics required to get my head around their operating principle and modus operandi. One thing was for sure, anybody brought up on the precision micro adjustment of tonearms -- à la SME and just about every 'arm since -- is in for a shock. The bearing might be static in use, but handling it is another matter. Being able to pull the headshell around, rotationally and slide it laterally as well as in the more normal axes is disconcerting to say the least. The impact it has on trying to make (crucial) adjustments to azimuth and tracking force sits somewhere between frustrating and giving up altogether. With zero calibration and an incredibly coarse and loose thread on the counterweight, repeatable adjustments are almost impossible -- especially as it is hard to tell whether you’ve twisted the counterweight or the 'arm as a whole. It’s even worse when it comes to azimuth, the thumbscrew under the 'arm locking the sleeve joint being beyond fiddly to operate, while tiny angular adjustments risk simply rotating the bearing rather than the arm. Likewise, VTA adjustments are back to the hit-and-miss days of post-and-collar mounts.

All in all, it’s a case of trial and error -- just keep plodding away, allowing the arm/bearing to settle after each adjustment until, almost entirely by chance, you hit the sweet spot. I’d concentrate on VTF first, followed by azimuth because, as you’ll soon discover, this 'arm is more azimuth-critical than any other. Once you’ve got those two factors nailed down and locked in, then you can worry about fine-tuning VTA -- although that’s another trial-and-error saga, especially if you haven’t anchored the 'arm’s position in some way. Double-sided tape is an option, and pits for the spikes is another, but I ended up using self-adhesive dimples around/outside the circumference of the arm base, which allowed me to drop the 'arm in between them and preserve its position relative to the platter. If all that sounds like way too much trouble -- and way too flaky into the bargain -- take heart from the fact that not only is it a one-time exercise (believe me, once you’ve nailed the 'arm’s setup you’ll be leaving it well alone), but the remarkable musical results quickly dispel the frustration. However, ViV Lab really should evolve the design to make the adjustments easier and far more repeatable. Gradation is, if anything, even more important on the Rigid Float than it is on more conventional tonearms.

The arrival of the RF7 CB brought it all back -- sonically and mechanically -- but it also provided exactly the contrast to the aluminum-tubed 'arms required to allow me, finally, to get a firm grip on what it is that makes the Rigid Float 'arms so special and distinctive. The shift from aluminum to carbon fiber for the armtube might seem more a question of detail than fundamental nature, but the sonic and musical results are far from subtle. The RF7 CB is a far more measured, poised and controlled product than its aluminum brethren -- less headlong and pell-mell in terms of both musical presentation and progress, differences I’ll discuss in greater depth. But first it’s time to consider the revelation that arrived along with the RF7 CB, to whit the similarities rather than the differences between the various Rigid Float arms.

Having now spent time with the carbon-tubed model, I’ve come to realize that my original impression was spot on, even if I slightly misinterpreted it at the time. What I was hearing was not so much the sheer, uncontrolled pace and speed of the 'arm’s performance, but the lack of any inhibition or braking. Slide on ice and you can’t stop, simply because there’s no friction. That’s exactly how a record played with the ViV Lab 'arms sounds: friction-free. Given that we’re generating sound by dragging a rock down a trench, the issue of friction or drag is clearly going to be critical to the results. By eliminating side force, the Rigid Float 'arms seem to minimize that drag, almost as if the groove has suddenly been lubricated -- at least that’s exactly how it sounds. Whether you listen to the RF7 Ha with its aluminum tube or the carbon-tubed RF7 CB, both 'arms offer a performance that is fluid and uninhibited, in both dynamic and rhythmic terms. It would be easy to assume on first exposure (as I did) that removing the brakes also removes control, but in fact the opposite is true. The 'arms seem to be able to react to changes in pace (faster or slower) with the same unforced ease that they react to dynamic demands. Suddenly the musical performance is freed of the gating, lag or constraint that so often passes for control, that uninhibited transmission by the tonearm translating directly into uninhibited performance by the musicians.

I used the RF7 CB with a variety of different turntables, including the Grand Prix Monaco v2.0, the VPI Avenger and the AMG Giro, something that brings home at least one of the advantages of its free-standing design. Of these, the temporal authority and dynamic precision of the Monaco 2.0 was a near-perfect foil for the ViV Lab 'arm, as was the uncomplicated clarity and musical enthusiasm of the Giro. The latter’s semi-circle of exposed plinth was also perfectly proportioned to accept the 7” 'arm and there it stayed for much of the listening. In contrast, the Monaco 2.0 arguably opened the window almost too wide, challenging the RF7 CB to keep up, especially in terms of instrumental texture and low-level resolution while, despite the mechanical advantages and near-perfect mating of 'arm and free-space armboard on the Avenger, that deck’s smooth musical generosity proved to be the least successful option, arguably offering too much of the same quality as the 'arm itself.

But to fully appreciate what the RF7 CB offers and how to get the best out of it, we need to look at its musical attributes and how they affect the presentation. Having already discussed the fluid, progressive substance and powerful delivery of the RF7 CB, where better to start than the epic sweep of Smetana’s Má Vlast (Rafael Kubelik and Boston Symphony [Deutsche Grammophon Gesellschaft 2707-054])? The familiar opening theme of the second movement, "Vltava," is perfectly carried on the swelling surge of the strings, the soundstage broad and properly proportioned, although short on explicit boundaries and instrumental focus. Instead, the instrumental separation is more tonal than spatial, with natural colors abounding. The full harmonics allow the musical momentum and density to swell and flow with a majestic, unstoppable, riverine grace -- exactly as it should. But on top of that smoothly effortless ebb and flow, crescendos are built with a clear sense of relative scale, changes in tempo are traversed without so much as a hesitation, and re-emerging themes do so with a clarity and purpose that lend an explicit shape and intelligibility to the patterns of interlocking energy that manifest the musical whole. The shifting and contrasting tempi carry over into the next movement, "Sárka," while the suddenness of the brass tuttis and punctuating crescendos, the shifting accents in the string playing as the movements approach their finale, add drama, creative tension and purpose to music that too often suffers an overly sentimental or nostalgic reading.

It’s a performance that underlines the explosive dynamics and shape-shifting capabilities of the RF7 CB, the way it scales dynamic peaks without apparent effort and can alter orchestral density or instrumental intensity at will, allowing the orchestra and its conductor their full expressive range. This is an 'arm where the brushstrokes can be as broad as you like and will never lack conviction, an 'arm that perfectly suits and captures the nostalgic sweep of Smetana’s homage to the geography and cultural history of his homeland, a musical landscape that melds loss and optimism.

If such emotive themes play to the 'arm’s strengths, what of the rigor and discipline demanded by more classical or baroque works? The boxed set of the Brandenburg Concertos (Karl Richter and the Munchener Bach-Orchester [Archiv 2708 013]) makes for a fascinating comparison, the 1967 recording pre-dating, but a definite precursor to, the original-instruments/early-music movement. Here we have smaller instrumental forces, a smattering of early instruments (recorder and viola de gamba) and a more ascetic reading of the works than was currently fashionable. The ViV Lab’s smooth, fluid presentation makes much of the structural symmetry, compositional elegance, harmony and counterpoint of the various concertos, delivering a satisfying sense of the balanced and carefully sculpted whole. Again, tonal separation is first-class, especially between the winds, and the harpsichord continuo is notably more effective than is often the case, with a sense of real body and purpose that’s a world away from the detached jangle you so often hear.

It’s a combination of virtues that is especially effective on the darkly mysterious Sixth, but far less so on the brilliantly angular Third, which loses some of the sharp brightness and joie de vivre that normally make it so arresting. The RF7 CB's sumptuously smooth progression through the music certainly seems to come at some cost in terms of bite and texture, the microdynamic nuances that enlighten the listener to a musician’s technique and the sheer physical effort being expended. Listen to the Hogwood recording of the Third (with original instruments/tuning [L’Oiseau-Lyre 414187-1]) and there’s a loss of the angular articulation, lightness of touch and phrasing that imbue the music with a sprightly vivacity that whilst the Richter will never match, the RF7 CB’s smoothness helps further obscure. It’s odd, in as much as the 'arm doesn’t round things off (at least not in the traditional, audio sense), but it certainly eliminates any of the edge or glare that so often help to generate energy and excitement.

Let’s try and put these relative attributes into some sort of context or perspective. I’ll use the Ricci "Carmen Fantaisie" [Decca SXL 2197] as an example, with its combination of almost bombastic orchestration and solo brilliance. As expected, played with the RF7 CB/Giro combination, the dramatic orchestral opening is electric in its presence, the vigor in its playing, the rich orchestral colors. Ricci’s entry is no less impressive, his playing all swagger and flourish. Musically speaking, there is no complaint to be made and the riotous extravagance of the performance certainly matches the arrangement. But compare the presentation to that of the AMG 9W2/DS Audio DSW1 combination that normally graces the Giro ‘table and the differences are stark, the optical cartridge offering a significantly more focused, transparent and dimensional picture of the performance, with greater resolution of the solo instrument, greater intimacy and a much greater sense of the effort and technical demands in the bowing. In comparison, the soundstage of the RF7 CB/Ortofon Royal N (the cartridge that offered consistently the most musical results in the ViV Lab ‘arm) is correctly narrow and deep, but lacks the clarity and focus that’s available from this recording, the performance concentrated much more on the music as a whole rather than the individual contribution of the soloist. This is all muscle and bone rather than fingerprints and wrinkles, Ricci sailing through those passages where his playing teeters on the brink, like a sports car cornering at the limits of its grip, with an almost otherworldly security and calm.

Now, let’s be clear about this -- neither picture is strictly accurate: the AMG/DSW1 offers greater resolution and individual insight, but it does so at the expense of some weight and substance. The RF7 CB/Ortofon pairing is big on presence, energy and panache, but costs you detail and immediacy, not so much of the performance as a whole but of the individual elements. You pay your money and you take your choice. What makes the RF7 CB so fascinating is that the choice it offers is so different (in terms of its specific balance of virtues) to what has become the norm. When it comes to the sense of musical phrasing and the flow through the piece, the AMG/DSW1 is no slouch and a considerably better performer than the majority of the competition, but the RF7 CB still leaves it for dead, gliding effortlessly through the musical demands, tracing the structures and patterns without hesitation. That musical verve has an addictive quality, and if you listen for a prolonged period with the Rigid Float, then you certainly miss it when you swap back to a different 'arm. Just like the better direct-heated triode amps and horn speakers, it is easy to understand how for some listeners this ‘arm, once heard, is the only solution.

How and why does the Rigid Float design achieve its undoubted musical attributes? The lack of side force clearly plays its part, but so too does the rest of the design, especially when it comes to the all-important balance of strengths and weaknesses. One implication of the 7” tonearm’s shorter tracing radius and zero offset is that tracing distortion (caused by the angular interface between stylus and groove and the opposite faces of the stylus tip reading different points on the two groove faces). Of course, this is an issue that affects all pivoted 'arms to some extent, but I was intrigued to discover whether it is more or less apparent with the shorter 'arm. Using the Ricci album as our example, comparing the sonic presentation at the start of the disc to the sound at the single null point (a little over half an inch from the end of the grooved surface) there was certainly a noticeable difference in terms of improved focus and dimensionality, both of images and the stage itself. Listening through the album, was I aware of that change? Only if I made a point of listening to it, which makes it about as obvious as changes in bias force -- although not the bias force itself. It does, however, raise the question, Is this at least in part, responsible for the loss of the lowest-level resolution from records played on the RF7 CB? Enter then, the RF9 HA ($3500) -- the 9” version of the Rigid Float, albeit one equipped with an aluminum armtube. In fact, while we’re about it, let’s throw the RF7 HA ($3200) into the mix too and open a whole new can of worms.

In fact, let’s start with the RF7 HA and a direct comparison between the aluminum and carbon armtubes. If there’s division between advocates of the zero-offset ViV Lab 'arms and those who use or prefer a more conventional approach, then there is also division amongst Rigid Float aficionados, between those who prefer the carbon-tubed models and those who prefer the original aluminum version. Well, with the two ‘arms side by side it’s easy to understand why. With clearly recognizable similarities there are also significant differences in their presentation -- differences that will impact directly on just how they mate with different systems.

If we return once again to the Ricci recording to furnish our examples, the RF7 HA delivers the same, frictionless passage through the recording -- indeed, to an almost greater and certainly more obvious extent. Its dynamics are more explicit and contrasts more vivid, with music sounding faster, more energetic and performances more vital. But that added speed, drama and expressive intent come at the cost of a less poised and leaner presentation. The aluminum ‘arm lacks the rich tonality and smoothly motive substance of the RF7 CB, instead offering angular elbows and attitude. With the RF7 HA at the helm, Ricci’s playing takes on a more aggressive and higher-risk quality, the metaphorical tires on this sports car starting to squeal and occasionally smoke. It’s exciting, it’s exhilarating and occasionally it’s uncomfortable. It’s also exactly the performance that I remember so vividly from my first listening sessions.

Which brings me back to the issue of system matching. In any system with a tendency to the lean or a lack of tonal color and harmonic development, limited weight or presence or an over-developed sense of resolution and definition, I can see the RF7 CB offering manna from heaven. Likewise, if your system is redolent with color, big, slightly diffuse images or rounded dynamics, the RF7 HA could be just the ticket. Okay, so I’m overstating the case, but it’s no accident that Kevin Scott of Living Voice has a clear preference for the aluminum-tubed model -- especially when used in conjunction with older Kondo electronics and 300B output tubes. At the end of the day, any system is a jigsaw puzzle of interlocking attributes. The fact that the ViV Lab ‘arms have a more pronounced character than some just means that you need to match the different models appropriately. Shifting between tubed and solid-state electronics (even in the absence of anything as lushly romantic as a single-ended 300B) certainly demonstrated the utility of the thesis, with the freestanding nature of the ‘arms and their interchangeable headshells making direct comparison unusually quick and simple. All of a sudden, the alternative reality represented by the Rigid Float tonearms is starting to make a whole lot of sense.

Adding the RF9 HA to the equation, with its longer aluminum armtube provided yet another fascinating variation on the theme. Whether it is the increased radius, mechanical differences due to the longer tube and its specific resonant character or something else entirely, the RF9 HA is a calmer, more poised and more focused performer than its shorter brother. It might lack the sheer seat-of-the-pants excitement that the 7” ‘arm brings to proceedings, but it is still impressively fluid and arguably even more articulate, that extra insight courtesy of greater focus and a clearer view of the music’s corners. Ricci’s technique is more natural and more readily identified, the tuning differences between Hogwood’s Academy of Ancient Music and the Munchener Bach-Orchester far more explicit, along with their musical implications and the instrumental composition of the bands. Crucially, if the RF9 HA can’t match the rich tonality of the RF7 CB or the sheer vitality and edgy excitement of the RF7 HA, its ability to draw from both establishes it firmly astride the middle ground, arguably the most versatile and classically neutral of the three ‘arms.

But note -- that’s merely a relative position reflecting the presentational differences. What it isn’t, is a qualitative or musical-value judgment. More perhaps than any 'arms I’ve ever used, the Rigid Floats’ beauty is entirely in the ear (and system) of the beholder, so that there’s no good, better, best here. Instead you have a range of options or balances and which you might prefer is going to reflect your personal perspective and situation.

ith any product as distinctive and different as the ViV Labs tonearms, the acid test is, could I (or would I) live with this? That’s a qualified yes: yes, because the musical possibilities are so profound, the performance so infectious; maybe, because living with a ViV Lab ‘arm would take me back to the fuss-free days of set-and-forget record replay; maybe not, because having gotten used to the performance benefits of record-by-record VTA adjustment, I suspect I’d get increasingly twitchy the longer I was denied them. Like all practical considerations, there are ways around the issues and techniques to ameliorate the shortcomings, be that shims under the arm base to adjust VTA or a ‘table with its own height-adjustable tonearm platform -- like the Kuzma Stabi XL.

So let me ask another question and my feelings about the Rigid Floats may well become clear. Would I use a ViV Lab 'arm as my second tonearm, alongside something more conventional? In a heartbeat. Its musical strengths make it the perfect alternative to more conventional tonearms, its operational limitations likewise, the polar opposite of the other ‘arms I use. That different musical perspective and what amounts to fit-and-forget operation make it the perfect foil, the perfect alternative route into your record collection.

But that’s me. As I’ve already observed, there are those for whom the Rigid Float 'arms will represent an audio coup de foudre -- once heard, impossible to ignore or forget. If you even half suspect that you might be such a listener, if you find the current range of available tonearms intrusively demanding and charmless, if you’ve no time for tweakery and less for the rigmarole of record-by-record adjustment, then you owe yourself a listen to a ViV Lab tonearm. It might just change your audio expectations for good. In my case, with several decks that will take a second or even third 'arm -- and given the inherent portability and transferable nature of the Rigid Float -- an RF9 HA would do me just fine.