Sticking with my arsenal of past R2D4 picks, and because I knew it would make me smile, I put on Count Basie & His Atomic Band doing "Roll 'Em Pete," from the killer collection Complete Live at the Crescendo 1958 (5 CDs, Phono 870245). Joe Williams nails it to the boards: "Well, you're so beautiful, but you've got to die someday. / All I want's a little loving, just before you pass away." Now that was something to die for—I had to laugh with pleasure. Via the MC462, Basie's piano was charging hard and taking no prisoners. The saxes and brass had such wallop I felt I was being spanked—in a good way.
I needed to hear the MC462 with genuine three-way speakers, preferably a pair difficult to drive. Audio Classics Ltd. was kind enough to loan me a new pair of Bowers & Wilkins' floorstanding 702 S2s, reviewed in May 2018 by Kalman Rubinson. In his sidebar accompanying Kal's review of the 702 S2s, JA measured an easygoing sensitivity of 90.2dB for the B&Ws. However, though this model's nominal impedance is specified as 8 ohms, JA found that it dipped down to 3 ohms in the bass, and concluded: "I think [the 702 S2] should be used with amplifiers that are comfortable with 4 ohm loads."
Got one right here. I hooked up the 702 S2s to the MC462's 4 ohm speaker taps and listened, knowing I was getting the same 450Wpc of power no matter which taps I used. And thanks to a heads-up from John Swenson's review in January 2019, I had on hand the perfect music—the Grateful Dead's Pacific Northwest '73–'74: Believe It If You Need It (3 CDs, Dead.net/Rhino R2 572292). These live recordings are from the period of the Dead's tours famous for the Wall of Sound, the massive PA system they briefly toured with in the 1970s. The Wall was powered by 48 McIntosh C2300 stereo amplifiers—a direct ancestor of the MC462—and put out a tidy 28,800W!
The thing to listen for is Phil Lesh's hot-rodded Alembic bass guitar, dropping what he called his "bass bombs." The Harbeth 30.2's specified low-end limit is a relatively modest 50Hz, whereas the B&W 702 S2's is a claimed 28Hz. With the MC462 firmly in the saddle, the B&Ws rode along with the Dead through the monstrous "Truckin'/Jam/Not Fade Away" sequence from the Portland Memorial Coliseum in May 1974. Though not summoning the 32'-high bass soundwave that John Swenson states the Wall of Sound could create, the McIntosh-B&W combo still let me feel the foundation of Lesh's bass, and produced a strong visceral sense of the thundering barn-burning the Grateful Dead were capable of 45 years ago.
Now that I'd fished a bit in pools downstream from the McIntosh MC462, what about casting a line upstream? My McIntosh C2300 preamplifier uses 12AX7A tubes in its line-level and phono stages. Was it perhaps time to branch out in my choice of preamplification? I swapped in J E Sugden's solid-state Masterclass LA-4 line preamplifier, reviewed in the April 2019 issue by Jim Austin and then sent on to me by John Atkinson. The LA-4 is a compact, streamlined, nothing-but-the-facts preamp. As of this writing, I have yet to read what Jim and John think of it, but I don't expect their takes to be less than positive.
With the Sugden LA-4 in the chain, I dipped into one of the great complete cycles of Beethoven's piano sonatas, recorded for Telarc by John O'Conor in 1987. I listened to Sonata 21, "Waldstein" (CD, Telarc CD-80160), O'Conor playing a fine Hamburg Steinway. Everything was right about the sound—no sense whatsoever of any strain, and an extremely even sense of timbral distribution throughout the audioband. The CD booklet states that the monitor speakers used for this recording were B&W 801Fs. For additional corroboration, I walked downstairs to the living room and played a bit of the "Waldstein" on my 1936 Steinway Model M. Yup—that's what a piano sounds like.
I'm a newbie when it comes to streaming, but I'm glad I waited—I'm really digging what I'm hearing from Qobuz's new US service. Streaming at hi-rez from my Mac laptop (McIntosh Laboratory licensed the use of the name "Macintosh" to Apple years ago) through my Bricasti M1 DAC, I browsed a new cycle of Sibelius's seven symphonies, recorded over several years by Paavo Järvi and the Orchestra of Paris (24-bit/96kHz FLAC, RCA/Sony SYNX 19075924512). The Sugden-McIntosh-B&W combo tore the roof off, with fantastic energy propelling the end of Symphony 3. Sibelius also loves him some pizzicato—and the plucked strings in the second movement were woody and delicate.
But while I enjoyed the performances, I wasn't wild about the overall sound of these recordings. When the strings played hard, things started sounding a bit hashy and brittle. Was it the recording or the gear? Like many people, I own more than one Sibelius cycle—all I had to do was pull them out and compare. Switching to the cycle with Lorin Maazel leading the Vienna Philharmonic, from the early 1960s (3 CDs, London 430 778), I got a fast answer. The gear was correctly revealing the truth about the recordings. The Maazel cycle has a far richer, less strident sound, and that's what I heard. For good measure, I put on the same movement of Symphony 3 from the cycle recorded by Leif Segerstam and the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra, from the early 2000s (4 CDs, Ondine ODE 1075-2Q). Here were warm, strong, yet varied sonics, in comparison to the other two, and my pick in this three-way Sibelius faceoff.
It was time for bringing it all back home, as the Poet said. After many more moments musicaux like those described, I restored my system to what it had been before, the only new element being the McIntosh MC462. To eliminate guesswork I used my personal North Star, a recording of my own compositions for chamber ensembles and string orchestra, which I conducted—Tight Lines (LP/CD, Stereophile STPH022-1/2). The MC462 became a literal studio reference, a conduit: I stood there again before the musicians as they made music out of dots on pages.
. . . and it comes out here
I count 81 amplifier models issued by McIntosh Laboratory through 2003. I'm told the count is now well over 100—a company with that kind of history now competes mainly against itself. McIntosh fans have their favorites from the company's various design eras. As listeners, we also have our individual likes and dislikes—some rational, some not so much. My own No.1 priority in the reproduction of music is the living, breathing re-creation of the harmonic series. That is the "nature" in music, the vibration of the spheres. You'll want to be thoughtful in choosing what to pair the MC462 with, upstream and down—this amp interrogates whatever it comes in contact with with such authority that it could veer to the analytical side of the sonic spectrum. With a simpatico system the McIntosh MC462 will bring the breath of life to your music. The McIntosh MC462 Quad Balanced power amplifier sits today on the bottom shelf of my rack like a stocky Buddha, calmly radiating energy as the forest creatures—eg, the red squirrels that winter inside the walls of our old Victorian—gather 'round, smile, and nod their heads. One thing they all agree on is the price—$9000 is more than fair for the excellence delivered, given the inflationary forces wafting through the High End. The senses of ease and literally quiet power created by the MC462 are palpable and most welcome. A first-round vote pick for induction in Class A of the next edition of our "Recommended Components." Highly recommended—insisted on, even.
The thing to listen for is Phil Lesh's hot-rodded Alembic bass guitar, dropping what he called his "bass bombs." The Harbeth 30.2's specified low-end limit is a relatively modest 50Hz, whereas the B&W 702 S2's is a claimed 28Hz. With the MC462 firmly in the saddle, the B&Ws rode along with the Dead through the monstrous "Truckin'/Jam/Not Fade Away" sequence from the Portland Memorial Coliseum in May 1974. Though not summoning the 32'-high bass soundwave that John Swenson states the Wall of Sound could create, the McIntosh-B&W combo still let me feel the foundation of Lesh's bass, and produced a strong visceral sense of the thundering barn-burning the Grateful Dead were capable of 45 years ago.
Now that I'd fished a bit in pools downstream from the McIntosh MC462, what about casting a line upstream? My McIntosh C2300 preamplifier uses 12AX7A tubes in its line-level and phono stages. Was it perhaps time to branch out in my choice of preamplification? I swapped in J E Sugden's solid-state Masterclass LA-4 line preamplifier, reviewed in the April 2019 issue by Jim Austin and then sent on to me by John Atkinson. The LA-4 is a compact, streamlined, nothing-but-the-facts preamp. As of this writing, I have yet to read what Jim and John think of it, but I don't expect their takes to be less than positive.
With the Sugden LA-4 in the chain, I dipped into one of the great complete cycles of Beethoven's piano sonatas, recorded for Telarc by John O'Conor in 1987. I listened to Sonata 21, "Waldstein" (CD, Telarc CD-80160), O'Conor playing a fine Hamburg Steinway. Everything was right about the sound—no sense whatsoever of any strain, and an extremely even sense of timbral distribution throughout the audioband. The CD booklet states that the monitor speakers used for this recording were B&W 801Fs. For additional corroboration, I walked downstairs to the living room and played a bit of the "Waldstein" on my 1936 Steinway Model M. Yup—that's what a piano sounds like.
I'm a newbie when it comes to streaming, but I'm glad I waited—I'm really digging what I'm hearing from Qobuz's new US service. Streaming at hi-rez from my Mac laptop (McIntosh Laboratory licensed the use of the name "Macintosh" to Apple years ago) through my Bricasti M1 DAC, I browsed a new cycle of Sibelius's seven symphonies, recorded over several years by Paavo Järvi and the Orchestra of Paris (24-bit/96kHz FLAC, RCA/Sony SYNX 19075924512). The Sugden-McIntosh-B&W combo tore the roof off, with fantastic energy propelling the end of Symphony 3. Sibelius also loves him some pizzicato—and the plucked strings in the second movement were woody and delicate.
But while I enjoyed the performances, I wasn't wild about the overall sound of these recordings. When the strings played hard, things started sounding a bit hashy and brittle. Was it the recording or the gear? Like many people, I own more than one Sibelius cycle—all I had to do was pull them out and compare. Switching to the cycle with Lorin Maazel leading the Vienna Philharmonic, from the early 1960s (3 CDs, London 430 778), I got a fast answer. The gear was correctly revealing the truth about the recordings. The Maazel cycle has a far richer, less strident sound, and that's what I heard. For good measure, I put on the same movement of Symphony 3 from the cycle recorded by Leif Segerstam and the Helsinki Philharmonic Orchestra, from the early 2000s (4 CDs, Ondine ODE 1075-2Q). Here were warm, strong, yet varied sonics, in comparison to the other two, and my pick in this three-way Sibelius faceoff.
It was time for bringing it all back home, as the Poet said. After many more moments musicaux like those described, I restored my system to what it had been before, the only new element being the McIntosh MC462. To eliminate guesswork I used my personal North Star, a recording of my own compositions for chamber ensembles and string orchestra, which I conducted—Tight Lines (LP/CD, Stereophile STPH022-1/2). The MC462 became a literal studio reference, a conduit: I stood there again before the musicians as they made music out of dots on pages.
. . . and it comes out hereI count 81 amplifier models issued by McIntosh Laboratory through 2003. I'm told the count is now well over 100—a company with that kind of history now competes mainly against itself. McIntosh fans have their favorites from the company's various design eras. As listeners, we also have our individual likes and dislikes—some rational, some not so much. My own No.1 priority in the reproduction of music is the living, breathing re-creation of the harmonic series. That is the "nature" in music, the vibration of the spheres. You'll want to be thoughtful in choosing what to pair the MC462 with, upstream and down—this amp interrogates whatever it comes in contact with with such authority that it could veer to the analytical side of the sonic spectrum. With a simpatico system the McIntosh MC462 will bring the breath of life to your music. The McIntosh MC462 Quad Balanced power amplifier sits today on the bottom shelf of my rack like a stocky Buddha, calmly radiating energy as the forest creatures—eg, the red squirrels that winter inside the walls of our old Victorian—gather 'round, smile, and nod their heads. One thing they all agree on is the price—$9000 is more than fair for the excellence delivered, given the inflationary forces wafting through the High End. The senses of ease and literally quiet power created by the MC462 are palpable and most welcome. A first-round vote pick for induction in Class A of the next edition of our "Recommended Components." Highly recommended—insisted on, even.
