Integrated Amp Reviews

My initial impressions of the review unit weren't encouraging. The company's website shows two integrated amplifier models named the Silver Luna Prestige that appear to be largely identical except for the casework: the one from the Evolution line looks natty and modern, with rounded corners and clean lines. I saw several of these Fezz Audio amps at this year's High End Munich and found them to be downright lovely. I'd like to say that the unit I received, from the (ostensibly older) Legacy line, looks industrial, but that's a kinder word than the one that popped into my head. Inexplicably, the website calls the whitish color scheme of my unit "Republika," and I was surprised to discover that the chassis is made mostly of plastic, a design choice I've yet to encounter in another tube amplifier. The black metal output transformer housing is decorated with a little silver-colored badge that reads "Prestige," a touch that brought to mind a television set from the 1980s. On the plus side, measuring 16" × 6.5" × 12.5" and weighing about 34lb, the Silver Luna is no bigger or heavier than it needs to be, and these days an integrated tube amp that costs $2995 feels like a bit of a gift.

Connected to the Klipsch La Scalas, the Fezz amp emitted a steady hum that was quite audible from the listening seat, about 10' away from the speakers. Given the Klipsch's sky-high specified sensitivity of 105dB, this wasn't surprising, but the Silver Luna hummed louder than the half-dozen tube amps I have on hand. The hum wasn't affected by lifting the ground on the power cable, so I assume it's a feature of the design. It wasn't noticeable during playback but may be a concern for owners of extremely sensitive speakers.

Listening
Once I began listening to the Silver Luna, things got considerably more interesting. In some ways, the amp is a reminder of why the EL34 push-pull circuit has remained perennially popular since the heyday of the Dynaco Stereo 70: with their well-balanced, punchy, and generally pleasing sound, these amps tend to be as familiar and comforting as an old flannel shirt. As it happens, the Silver Luna's rabble-rousing character sets it apart from the sometimes middle-of-the-road EL34 mold.

It took a while to figure this out. I've been on a jazz kick, and I began auditioning the Fezz with "Tin Tin Deo" from a 1973 pressing of Art Pepper Meets the Rhythm Section (Contemporary S7532). It sounded fleshy, with great pace, a vivid sense of interplay between the musicians, and good color—a largely satisfying rendition. Listening into Roy DuNann's pristine early stereo recording, I noticed that the Silver Luna rendered Philly Joe Jones's champagne-grade stickwork with a little less transparency and more truncated decay than I was used to. On dynamic peaks, the Polish amp sounded just a bit splashier and less controlled, too.

I began to get a measure of the Silver Luna's rather special abilities when I put away the jazz LPs and switched to country. My vinyl LP copy of The Grand Tour (Epic KE 33083) has "MARY JANE-N-ERNIE" written on the label in thick black marker, a detail that for some reason makes me happy. After I lowered the needle on the title track, I found myself pinned to the sofa. The familiar string, pedal steel, and piano lick sounded shockingly present, and Jones's voice appeared above my speakers like an apparition of grief. The Silver Luna sounded like it was putting a slight emphasis on the upper bass, which made its rendering of the electric bass notes sound scary good and turned it into a propulsion engine for the track. Could the amp really sound this vivid? Just to make sure I wasn't experiencing a minor seizure, I listened to the track twice more; each time, my skin roiled with goosebumps.

I began to pull out more country, pop, rock, and R&B records, and over the next several weeks it became clear to me that the Fezz amp was a master of making listening to these genres fun and often thrilling. Its sonic signature brought the best out of music with brash dynamic peaks, ample mid and upper bass content, and blazing rhythms; in turn, this type of music tolerated and sometimes celebrated the amp's deviations from ultimate transparency and control.

On the Pretenders' "Back on the Chain Gang" from Learning to Crawl (LP, Sire 1-23980), Billy Bremner's guitar sounded sweeter than I'd heard it, and the metallic, sharp timbre of Chrissie Hynde's voice felt like a jab to the jaw. Rhythm-wise, the Silver Luna kept things in the pocket, and its punchy, dynamic, and somewhat forward sound spiked the excitement meter, making my feet tap, my head nod, and my arms waggle. And the Polish amp showed a remarkable affinity for the human voice, which it reproduced with eerie presence. When called on, the Fezz could also throw a soundstage as panoramic as a sunset over Los Angeles. Jorge Ben is arguably the most beloved of the unclassifiable geniuses of Música Popular Brasileira; A Tábua de Esmeralda (Philips 6349 083), from 1974, contains two sides of his classic songs that deal with, among other things, the racial politics of Brazil, sexual longing, and Hermes Trismegistus, the Hellenistic deity and purported author of several sacred treatises on alchemy. On "Os Alquimistas Esão Chegando Os Alquimistas," with its rousing chorus ("The alchemists are coming!"), the backup singers and string embellishments spread nearly to the edges of my very large room. In the center, Ben's voice and acoustic guitar sounded as pure as an April breeze and, again, were defined by that sense of rightness and euphony that I think of as sweetness.

Comparisons
I compared the Silver Luna to the larger, hotter, and more expensive Line Magnetic LM-845IA integrated amp, and to the Prima Luna EVO 400 preamplifier driving the Manley Mahi monoblocks—an amplification chain that costs about four times as much as the contender from Poland. These pricier components sounded more refined and transparent, with better control, longer decay, and clearer rendition of ambient information. Yet the Fezz amp more than held its own in terms of drive, pace, jump, and sheer fun—think of the difference between a Rilke poem and a column by Jimmy Breslin. And the Silver Luna was just as capable at extracting meaning and emotion from my records, once again underscoring the difference between a component's sonic performance and its musical acuity.

Conclusion
The Fezz Audio Silver Luna isn't for everyone—listeners of primarily classical or jazz will probably feel happier with a more pellucid sounding, better-mannered amplifier. But if you subsist on a musical diet heavy on pop, rock, country, reggae, Afropop, metal, or R&B, the Fezz amp is likely to delight you. And given that you're getting an amplifier with a volume control, a set of ubiquitous, inexpensive tubes, and enough wattage to drive many speakers, its price can only be considered a flat-out bargain. Wholeheartedly recommended.