The first recording I took notes on was Enrique Granados's The Composer as Pianist: His Recordings for M. Welte & Soehne, Paris, 1913 (CD, Pierian 0002). This artfully produced recording of piano rolls, played by a 1923 player piano recorded in stereo, shows Granados to be a very Spanish composer capable of the most luminous and imaginative harmonies. His palette of pianistic colors saturated the air between the Elacs like an arabesque in the Alhambra, in Granada. Granados's music doesn't unfold logically or thematically. Instead, it spins and turns, building up into a shimmering wall of vibrating sonic splendor. To my surprise, the Debut B6es did nothing to curtail the decorative opulence of Goyescas, a suite for piano inspired by the paintings of Francisco Goya and subtitled Los majos enamorados (The Gallants in Love). My notes: "It sounds more luxurious and well-formed than it does through the KEF LS50s or the Technics SB-C700s!" The main thing I noticed was how water-clear and relaxed the sound was: open, not grainy or stiff. My only complaint was how, compared to the KEF or the Technics, all of the left-hand octaves lacked weight and body.
I might be able to forgive you for liking Paul more than John, George, or Ringo, but if you don't grasp the genius of Mel Tormé, only God can save you. Mel Tormé occupies a most special place in my record collection. For the listener's pleasure, he treats old standards and familiar jazz ballads like the tasty, irony-soaked truffles they are, giving them a life they never had before. He smiles as he sings, and I always smile back. Never have I smiled more than while listening to Tormé's rendition of Cole Porter's "It's Alright with Me," from his Live at the Crescendo Club (LP, Affinity AFFD 100). I played this song repeatedly, switching among the Elac Debut B6es, the Technics SB-C700s, and my KEF LS50s. The Elacs made Tormé's interpretation more delightful and quirky, more "Mel," than did those other estimable loudspeakers. With the B6es I felt closer to the Velvet Fog and understood his perverse humor: "Don't step on my blue suede lips (Horrible thought, isn't it?)." I even felt more of the microphone and more of that boozy Crescendo Club air. This record has seldom been more enjoyable. However, something I couldn't quite identify sounded a teensy bit strange. Was it a peak or a dip in the midrange? Maybe somewhere else, too? Closer to 2kHz? I couldn't yet say with any certainty, but I definitely noticed something.
When I replaced the Debut B6es with the KEF LS50s, Tormé's voice became fuller and chestier—more natural. Howard McGee's trumpet was more realistically toned. Strength and energy were increased. However, I was surprised to hear that Max Bennett's bass lines were now less tautly sprung. His staccato pizzicati—which had, just a moment before, ferried the song along so cheerfully—now sounded slightly drunk and thick tongued.
When I switched to the Technics SB-C700s, the detail and color of Bennett's bass notes were fleshed out even more than through the KEFs. Every octave became a lot more clear and articulate. Tonal balance was improved. Nevertheless, the Elac B6es had moved Mel Tormé's performances forward with greater ease than did the Technics. "Dorm-room speakers"? Not hardly!
With the Line Magnetic LM-518IA
To my complete surprise, the 6-ohm Elac Debut B6es thrived on 22W of class-A, single-ended-triode power. It seemed unbelievable: Suddenly, there was heavy-duty thump and pluck—and much cleaner tweet and twang. When I played "Will the Circle be Unbroken," from the New Appalachians' From the Mountaintop (24-bit/192kHz, Chesky), it all came together—for the Elac Debuts and for me. I sat there listening, shaking my head and mumbling, "Game over! Elacs win!" I was having one of those rare musical and audio epiphanies.
I had attended that first New Appalachians recording session, sitting quietly in the former church in Greenpoint, Brooklyn in which David Chesky made this exciting binaural recording. Because the bass player was much closer to the binaural microphone head than I was, his plucking at the beginning of the recording sounded more detailed and powerful than it had from my sixth-row pew. Via the Elacs and LM-518IA, it was forcefully present. I played the music loud because this unedited binaural recording is completely uncompressed, and I wanted to hear every microscopic detail. The upper-bass/lower-midrange energy I thought I was missing from the B6es suddenly appeared, bringing with it an impressive communicative strength. With the Line Magnetic, the Elac B6es weren't just playing music—they were pumping tangible musical energy into the room. It was easy to recognize the acoustic and dimensions of the Hirsch Center (formerly St. Elias Church). I could hear the singer's voice bouncing off the walls and ceiling. I love it when that happens.
$279.99? "For the price"? Are you kidding me?? Screw everybody!
These almost-free little boxes were sounding like the first loudspeakers to break the $1 million price point. Maybe I'd forgotten to take my meds? I needed to calm down and play "Will the Circle Be Unbroken" one more time—just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.
[Long pause]
I listened to the track again. The Debut B6es still sounded impressive. However, this time I heard that vibrating box—not a little, but a lot. This recording features only a low, chesty male voice and a strongly plucked double bass. A lot of 80–400Hz energy was channeling straight from the artists and through these modest Elac boxes in my 1100-cubic-foot Brooklyn studio. Impulsively, I jumped up and put my hands on their cabinets as the music continued. They were vibrating like sex toys!
Instead of sitting back down, I pulled out Editor's Choice: Sampler & Test CD (CD, Stereophile STPH016-2). I listened to the cabinet side panels with a stethoscope as I swept the Elac B6es with 1/3-octave warble tones. Strangely or coincidentally, the frequency of their loudest excitation (160–200Hz) coincided with an unusual and very narrow (–5dB) dip in their in-room frequency response measured at 1m. Overall, the cabinet's energy seemed most pronounced in the 80–400Hz region—which coincided perfectly with the energy in "Will the Circle Be Unbroken."
Andrew Jones told me: "I do have to be very careful in my design choices and how I apportion costs to the different design elements. One of these is the cabinet vibrations: How do I brace, or not, the cabinet, how thick should the cabinet walls be, what grade of MDF etc. These all have influences on the "sound" of the cabinet, and its cost. Just adding bracing does not eliminate resonances, it moves them to a slightly higher frequency. It may actually make them more audible, so it is not a simple choice. Also, the cabinet is the single most expensive item, so I have to be very careful in how I choose to spend my money: Better cabinet or better drivers or better [crossover]. Sometimes it's better for the cabinet to lose out in favor of the other components."
Sounds like a smart approach to me. I await John Atkinson's discoveries with his trusty plastic-tape accelerometer.
With the Rogue Audio Sphinx
You saw this coming. You could already smell the Wild Turkey and see Daisy Mae Duke dancing in front of you, right? Well, here's a complete audio system that plays, sings, and dances so working-class hard it'll have you crawling off the roadhouse dance floor, on your knees through the gravel parking lot, and into backseat of your broke-down Chevy, just to sleep off and recover from what you experienced. Imagine the Elac Debut B6es connected to Rogue Audio's Sphinx 100W integrated amp ($1395 with phono stage), a Halide DAC HD D/A converter ($499), and a Pioneer PLX-1000 turntable ($799) with Ortofon 2M Red ($100) or Shure M35X ($75) cartridge. I'll stake my criminal reputation on it: This roughly $3100 system will outplay many $10,000 audiophile systems. Channeling the black-crow image on the Rogue's faceplate, these components played the New Appalachians' bleak Ozark-Appalachia lament "The Blackest Crow" with uncanny verity and authentic feeling. Tonal character, heartstring pulling, and tear jerking were 101 proof. Bass was engagingly rich and detailed. Midrange colors couldn't match the LM-518IA's, and the sound wasn't as transparent as the PrimaLuna's, but I couldn't complain: the partnership of Rogue Sphinx and Debut B6 took me to every musical place I wanted to go. Lest you think this combo was all beer and big belt buckles, I'm here to say that it played Schubert's Symphony 1 with the same jittery ease and faux authority the 16-year-old Franz brought to the composition in 1813. This recording, with Karl Böhm conducting, the Berlin Philharmonic (LP, Deutsche Grammophon 2530216), didn't sound as rich or melodious as it usually does; the Debut B6es lost a noticeable measure of their everyday sweetness when driven by the Sphinx. The Berliners sounded drier and grayer than they should have. Nevertheless, the strings were sweet enough for young Schubert's first crack at a big composition, the horns were in good tune, and the timpani were solid and exclamatory. The Elacs let me get inside and enjoy a work I had never before paid attention to. Isn't that what a good hi-fi system is supposed to do?
Conclusions
Who cares what they cost? Forget about recommending them to only your non-audiophile friends. Elac Americas' new Debut B6 loudspeaker is an extremely competent audiophile design that is more musical and concise than any other speaker I've heard that costs less than $1000/pair. The B6's sound was noticeably colored, but when powered by an excellent amplifier (it seems to like tubes), the effects of those colorations were minimized. Then it played all types of music with enough composure and vita navitas to let Andrew Jones's most clever new creation run with the big dogs in the up-to-$2000/pair field. Highly recommended to all my friends.
When I replaced the Debut B6es with the KEF LS50s, Tormé's voice became fuller and chestier—more natural. Howard McGee's trumpet was more realistically toned. Strength and energy were increased. However, I was surprised to hear that Max Bennett's bass lines were now less tautly sprung. His staccato pizzicati—which had, just a moment before, ferried the song along so cheerfully—now sounded slightly drunk and thick tongued.
To my complete surprise, the 6-ohm Elac Debut B6es thrived on 22W of class-A, single-ended-triode power. It seemed unbelievable: Suddenly, there was heavy-duty thump and pluck—and much cleaner tweet and twang. When I played "Will the Circle be Unbroken," from the New Appalachians' From the Mountaintop (24-bit/192kHz, Chesky), it all came together—for the Elac Debuts and for me. I sat there listening, shaking my head and mumbling, "Game over! Elacs win!" I was having one of those rare musical and audio epiphanies.
Andrew Jones told me: "I do have to be very careful in my design choices and how I apportion costs to the different design elements. One of these is the cabinet vibrations: How do I brace, or not, the cabinet, how thick should the cabinet walls be, what grade of MDF etc. These all have influences on the "sound" of the cabinet, and its cost. Just adding bracing does not eliminate resonances, it moves them to a slightly higher frequency. It may actually make them more audible, so it is not a simple choice. Also, the cabinet is the single most expensive item, so I have to be very careful in how I choose to spend my money: Better cabinet or better drivers or better [crossover]. Sometimes it's better for the cabinet to lose out in favor of the other components."
Sounds like a smart approach to me. I await John Atkinson's discoveries with his trusty plastic-tape accelerometer.
You saw this coming. You could already smell the Wild Turkey and see Daisy Mae Duke dancing in front of you, right? Well, here's a complete audio system that plays, sings, and dances so working-class hard it'll have you crawling off the roadhouse dance floor, on your knees through the gravel parking lot, and into backseat of your broke-down Chevy, just to sleep off and recover from what you experienced. Imagine the Elac Debut B6es connected to Rogue Audio's Sphinx 100W integrated amp ($1395 with phono stage), a Halide DAC HD D/A converter ($499), and a Pioneer PLX-1000 turntable ($799) with Ortofon 2M Red ($100) or Shure M35X ($75) cartridge. I'll stake my criminal reputation on it: This roughly $3100 system will outplay many $10,000 audiophile systems. Channeling the black-crow image on the Rogue's faceplate, these components played the New Appalachians' bleak Ozark-Appalachia lament "The Blackest Crow" with uncanny verity and authentic feeling. Tonal character, heartstring pulling, and tear jerking were 101 proof. Bass was engagingly rich and detailed. Midrange colors couldn't match the LM-518IA's, and the sound wasn't as transparent as the PrimaLuna's, but I couldn't complain: the partnership of Rogue Sphinx and Debut B6 took me to every musical place I wanted to go. Lest you think this combo was all beer and big belt buckles, I'm here to say that it played Schubert's Symphony 1 with the same jittery ease and faux authority the 16-year-old Franz brought to the composition in 1813. This recording, with Karl Böhm conducting, the Berlin Philharmonic (LP, Deutsche Grammophon 2530216), didn't sound as rich or melodious as it usually does; the Debut B6es lost a noticeable measure of their everyday sweetness when driven by the Sphinx. The Berliners sounded drier and grayer than they should have. Nevertheless, the strings were sweet enough for young Schubert's first crack at a big composition, the horns were in good tune, and the timpani were solid and exclamatory. The Elacs let me get inside and enjoy a work I had never before paid attention to. Isn't that what a good hi-fi system is supposed to do?
Who cares what they cost? Forget about recommending them to only your non-audiophile friends. Elac Americas' new Debut B6 loudspeaker is an extremely competent audiophile design that is more musical and concise than any other speaker I've heard that costs less than $1000/pair. The B6's sound was noticeably colored, but when powered by an excellent amplifier (it seems to like tubes), the effects of those colorations were minimized. Then it played all types of music with enough composure and vita navitas to let Andrew Jones's most clever new creation run with the big dogs in the up-to-$2000/pair field. Highly recommended to all my friends.
