I don't mean, by any of this, to compare the Simaudio 860A with any current Krell power amps (which, in any case, I haven't heard). I'm only saying that certain trade-offs that came with past Simaudio amps have—at least with the 860A—largely evaporated.
However, one comparison that I noted back in 2011—between the percussive touch and the gorgeous overtones of Frank Kimbrough's piano on the Maria Schneider Jazz Orchestra's Sky Blue (CD, ArtistShare AS0065)—still held true: the 860A still didn't let me hear quite the full body contact with those keys. But, at the same time, the harmonic bloom was fuller still, and the horn sections were more palpable. A minute into the first track, "The 'Pretty' Road," when the woodwinds come in under the blaring brass, I could hear the saxes blowing—not just the value of the notes they were playing, but the sense of air rushing into the reeds and out the bells—more clearly, and with greater dimension, than I had before.
The clear dynamics of percussion instruments also came through in ways much less subtle. I don't know how many times I've listened to the wondrous Music Matters Jazz 45rpm reissue of Eric Dolphy's classic Out to Lunch (2 LPs, 45rpm, Blue Note/Music Matters Jazz MMBST-84163), but I'd never before heard the full range of drummer Tony Williams's rhythms, subrhythms, and counter-rhythms—some boisterous, some quiet and subtle. Ditto Elvin Jones's implosive, virtuosic brushwork in "You Are Too Beautiful," from a reissue of John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman (LP, Impulse!/Speakers Corner AS-40).
But I fear I'm giving the wrong impression of the 860A. What impressed me most wasn't the subterranean clarity of a bass line or the crisp sizzle of a cymbal (which merely filled a shortfall that I'd heard with previous Simaudio amps). What most impressed me, as it had with the 740P, was my sheer pleasure of listening to music. Nothing stood out artificially; everything was clear and distinct and real, but also balanced.
Listening to Duke Ellington's Masterpieces by Ellington, in Analogue Productions' reissue of Columbia Records' aptly titled sonic jaw-dropper (LP, APJ4418; SACD/CD, APJ4418-SA), I could more clearly hear the horn players really blow when they played, and take a breath when they paused, and I could hear the pressure of Wendell Marshall's fingers on the neck of his bass. (Yes, this is a 1950 mono recording, but check it out. If you can find a Columbia original pressing in good shape, and g'luck on that, it sounds better still, though I doubt you'll find one that's anywhere near as quiet as this reissue.)
In Michael Tilson Thomas's magnificent rendering of Mahler's Symphony 9 (2 SACD/CDs, San Francisco Symphony 821936-0007-2), the subtle hesitations of those silky violins, the clarion trumpets, the chirping flutes and woody reeds, the effortless swelling of the crescendos—this is what high-end audio is all about. Switching gears entirely: In Yes's "I've Seen All Good People: Your Move," from the sonically excellent soundtrack album for Almost Famous (CD, DreamWorks 0044-50279-2), I heard more space between instruments, more 3D heft to the background singers, more air in the flutes, harder strums on guitar, more constant rhythmic oomph in the bass drum—and all of it stayed rock steady as the organ got real loud.
Let's not neglect how the 860A laid out a soundstage. Those clarion trumpets in Mahler's 9th were way, way back there, yet they carved as sharp an image as the chirping flutes and woody reeds upfront—and I mean naturally sharp, not Etch A Sketch artifice. From the recent gatefold reissue of Blue (LP, Reprise/Rhino 74842), which sounds better than the original in nearly every way, Joni Mitchell's voice seemed to belt, croon, and breathe right in front of me, and all her musicians were nearly visible, to the left, right, and behind her. Wide width, deep depth, 3D imaging: to the extent a recording and the rest of my equipment could toss up this illusion in my living room, the 860A could too.
The comparison
I do have one caveat. Midway through my listening, John Atkinson let me borrow the Pass Labs XA60.5 monoblocks. When I'd reviewed the Simaudio 740P preamp, JA had lent me the Pass XP-30 line-stage preamplifier (reviewing it in the April 2013 issue, he likened it to the proverbial straight-wire-with-volume-knob), to help me gauge how closely the 740P approached the final word in transparency. In some ways, it was an unfair match—the Pass costs 75% more than the Simaudio—but an illuminating one. Though the 740P was—and, I think, still is—a world-beater in its price range (I did say that I bought one, right?), it turned out not to be quite the last word in the universe of preamps; the XP-30 lit up a slightly deeper soundstage, revealed still more air between instruments, and sported a wider palette of colors.
So I thought it might be interesting to put the Simaudio 860A power amp up against a Pass Labs model as well—this one a more even match, as the XA60.5s (at $11,000/pair) are a bit cheaper than the 860A ($15,000). The results this time weren't so clear-cut. The Passes exuded a purer midrange: pianos sounded richer, violins silkier, with more extended highs. However, the Simaudio was the champ for dynamics, bass tautness, inner detail, and rhythmic rightness.
I'm not entirely clear what to make of these observations. I also listened to the Pass amps through the Simaudio 740P preamp—so does this mean that the 740P delivered the midrange richness, but the 860A couldn't amplify it with full fidelity—or was the XA60.5, perhaps by design, embellishing that area of the audioband? I didn't listen to the Passes for long enough to tell.
Another question, at the moment unanswerable: Were the 860A's strengths in bass, dynamics, and so forth intrinsic products of Simaudio's design—or was it simply that the 860A had more watts per channel (200 vs 60) and a higher damping factor (up to 800 vs 150)? Of course, the latter, too, would be the result of design choices. More probing of this point to come, perhaps.
The Conclusion
Comparisons—especially these tentative, inconclusive ones—aside, my time with the Simaudio Moon Evolution 860A was a deep pleasure. I've now heard several models from this company, and if an audio brand can be characterized by a sound, Simaudio's tends to be neutral, with a slight tilt toward warmth—a sound that appeals to my own taste. The 860A peeled back another thin layer toward neutrality with a warmth that seemed still more natural, and not the side effect of second-order distortion or some other artifact.
Listening to Duke Ellington's Masterpieces by Ellington, in Analogue Productions' reissue of Columbia Records' aptly titled sonic jaw-dropper (LP, APJ4418; SACD/CD, APJ4418-SA), I could more clearly hear the horn players really blow when they played, and take a breath when they paused, and I could hear the pressure of Wendell Marshall's fingers on the neck of his bass. (Yes, this is a 1950 mono recording, but check it out. If you can find a Columbia original pressing in good shape, and g'luck on that, it sounds better still, though I doubt you'll find one that's anywhere near as quiet as this reissue.)
In Michael Tilson Thomas's magnificent rendering of Mahler's Symphony 9 (2 SACD/CDs, San Francisco Symphony 821936-0007-2), the subtle hesitations of those silky violins, the clarion trumpets, the chirping flutes and woody reeds, the effortless swelling of the crescendos—this is what high-end audio is all about. Switching gears entirely: In Yes's "I've Seen All Good People: Your Move," from the sonically excellent soundtrack album for Almost Famous (CD, DreamWorks 0044-50279-2), I heard more space between instruments, more 3D heft to the background singers, more air in the flutes, harder strums on guitar, more constant rhythmic oomph in the bass drum—and all of it stayed rock steady as the organ got real loud.
I do have one caveat. Midway through my listening, John Atkinson let me borrow the Pass Labs XA60.5 monoblocks. When I'd reviewed the Simaudio 740P preamp, JA had lent me the Pass XP-30 line-stage preamplifier (reviewing it in the April 2013 issue, he likened it to the proverbial straight-wire-with-volume-knob), to help me gauge how closely the 740P approached the final word in transparency. In some ways, it was an unfair match—the Pass costs 75% more than the Simaudio—but an illuminating one. Though the 740P was—and, I think, still is—a world-beater in its price range (I did say that I bought one, right?), it turned out not to be quite the last word in the universe of preamps; the XP-30 lit up a slightly deeper soundstage, revealed still more air between instruments, and sported a wider palette of colors.
So I thought it might be interesting to put the Simaudio 860A power amp up against a Pass Labs model as well—this one a more even match, as the XA60.5s (at $11,000/pair) are a bit cheaper than the 860A ($15,000). The results this time weren't so clear-cut. The Passes exuded a purer midrange: pianos sounded richer, violins silkier, with more extended highs. However, the Simaudio was the champ for dynamics, bass tautness, inner detail, and rhythmic rightness.
Comparisons—especially these tentative, inconclusive ones—aside, my time with the Simaudio Moon Evolution 860A was a deep pleasure. I've now heard several models from this company, and if an audio brand can be characterized by a sound, Simaudio's tends to be neutral, with a slight tilt toward warmth—a sound that appeals to my own taste. The 860A peeled back another thin layer toward neutrality with a warmth that seemed still more natural, and not the side effect of second-order distortion or some other artifact.
