How would the B6 fare with voices? Playing Johnny Hartman's I Just Dropped By to Say Hello (LP, Impulse! A-57), I felt I was looking at the baritone singer's tonsils—the leading edges of his purr of a voice were extremely well defined. Kenny Burrell's guitar was drier than I recalled on past recordings, as was Hank Jones's tinkling piano. Milt Hinton's deepest bass notes were well extended, but the upper mids of his double bass sounded a wee tight, even slightly compressed. This dryness and tightening of upper frequencies was a minor foible, particularly as it was joined seamlessly to the midrange and bass frequencies. And it never detracted from the Elac's elegant, musical sound.
Workin' with the Miles Davis Quintet (LP, Prestige PRLP 7166) and Kraftwerk's Tour de France (LP, Kling Klang STUMM 310-5099996610916) confirmed all of my previous findings. Miles's romantic hard bop blew sweet and cool: John Coltrane's tenor sax riffed incandescently, while Philly Joe Jones's ride cymbal swung hard, with excellent stick definition, decent body and decay, but little sense of "air" or space around the cymbal. Kraftwerk's driving bass blips pulled me in, like a humming, low-end tractor beam to my forehead, but there was a slight aridity and a hint of compression to the upper-register synthesizers. The B6's reproduction of both records was still very engaging, with absolutely zero sense of boxiness, chestiness, grain, or foreshortened notes. Carried on the Elacs' mighty bass notes, the music flowed, majestically and powerfully.
Elac, Music Hall, Unison Research
Changing perspective to a closer-proximity setup in a slightly smaller room immensely benefited the Elac Debut B6es. The speakers were now 4" from the front wall, sitting 3' apart, and 5' from my listening position. Virtually hemmed in on all sides, the Elacs were powered by the Unison Research Unico Primo MOSFET integrated amp (80Wpc into 8 ohms) with 12AX7-tube triode input stage, and fed by Music Hall's MMF-7.3 turntable. I felt I'd hit on a beautifully synergistic system. Why can't you plan these things?
Compared to the larger Snells in the same system, the Elacs went deeper, sang more forcefully, and had a lusher tonal balance. There was less "air," for sure, but also more muscle, more low-end extension, more tactile oomph. (And due to my nearfield listening position, I felt more immersed in the music than when the Elacs were powered by my Shindo-Kuzma setup: is this the allure of headphones?)
I continued to listen to the Elacs up close and personal. Digital Percussion now simmered and stormed, the various drums having more impact and greater density. They sounded as fleshy as a troupe of Kodo drummers kicking my shins. Dynamics were exceptionally powerful, particularly in one segment in which the rising swell of a gong is executed in unison with a missile-like snare-drum buzz roll. Again, no "air," but the overall sound was full, deep, and forceful.
"Trane's Blues," from Workin', sounded more cohesive but just as swinging in the nearfield setup. Philly Joe's ride cymbal loomed larger, and Miles's trumpet flowed like liquid velvet. Paul Chambers's double bass pulsed grandly.
I thought Loscil's ambient electronic dread might present too much of a good thing so close to my sweet spot, but rather than overwhelm me, the Elacs simply condensed and focused the music—straight to my gut. The massive bass signals were fully transmitted, oily, and dank, sealing me in an ominous but pleasurable cocoon of synthesizers and what felt like dry heat.
The B6's strongest traits—resolution, bass rendition, dynamics, and wonderful leading-edge definition of instruments and voices—piled even higher in my happy nearfield cell. Careful to maintain the same ear-to-tweeter height (as I did throughout this review), I could sit there forever, being rewarded with high-definition, Technicolor-infused music on a practically celestial plane.
Returning to Johnny Hartmann's enjoyable croon, I still detected a slight aridity in the upper guitar and piano notes, but the overall sonic picture was so full, rich, and immersive that criticisms of the speaker's upper-frequency deficiencies now felt trivial. With the stereo acting as the control panel of my intimate music ship, I felt I could dial in anything—jazz, electronic, classical—heck, even some Ferlin Husky or Rusty Draper—and the combo of Elac, Music Hall, and Unison Research would take me on a beautiful journey.
Conclusions
During my listening for this Follow-Up, I had the chance to compare the Elac Debut B6es with Wharfedale's Diamond 10.1 (discontinued; $299 from various online retailers)—a slightly smaller speaker whose 5" woofer delivers far less bass extension/richness. Where the Wharfedales outperformed the Elacs, however, was in overall tonality—they were sweeter and more natural than the Elacs, whose dryish tweeter could sometimes make music sound ever so slightly processed. But this is nitpicking on a Donald Trump scale, blowing hot gas over what amounts to little reality. The Elac Debut B6 is a prime music maker. Its faults are outweighed by its generous and flowing musicality, its graphically precise but never mechanical sound, its goodly retrieval of low-end fundamentals, and its thrilling dynamics. Anyone looking for an overachieving stand-mounted minimonitor in the $500–$1000 range better shift their view—the Elac Debut B6 is a knockout.—Ken Micallef
Changing perspective to a closer-proximity setup in a slightly smaller room immensely benefited the Elac Debut B6es. The speakers were now 4" from the front wall, sitting 3' apart, and 5' from my listening position. Virtually hemmed in on all sides, the Elacs were powered by the Unison Research Unico Primo MOSFET integrated amp (80Wpc into 8 ohms) with 12AX7-tube triode input stage, and fed by Music Hall's MMF-7.3 turntable. I felt I'd hit on a beautifully synergistic system. Why can't you plan these things?
During my listening for this Follow-Up, I had the chance to compare the Elac Debut B6es with Wharfedale's Diamond 10.1 (discontinued; $299 from various online retailers)—a slightly smaller speaker whose 5" woofer delivers far less bass extension/richness. Where the Wharfedales outperformed the Elacs, however, was in overall tonality—they were sweeter and more natural than the Elacs, whose dryish tweeter could sometimes make music sound ever so slightly processed. But this is nitpicking on a Donald Trump scale, blowing hot gas over what amounts to little reality. The Elac Debut B6 is a prime music maker. Its faults are outweighed by its generous and flowing musicality, its graphically precise but never mechanical sound, its goodly retrieval of low-end fundamentals, and its thrilling dynamics. Anyone looking for an overachieving stand-mounted minimonitor in the $500–$1000 range better shift their view—the Elac Debut B6 is a knockout.—Ken Micallef
