A Survey of Five Integrated Amplifiers, Part 1

by Roy Gregory | December 7, 2019

here is something fundamentally, almost quixotically chaotic about the world of audio reviewing. It’s almost as if reviewers and review products exist in a multi-axis, Heath Robinson orrery, all spinning around some ill-defined central point, their orbits intersecting in an apparently random pattern that answers to its own internal logic. It’s a process that can be as frustrating as it is unpredictable -- for reviewers and readers alike. But every so often that very unpredictability throws up an intriguing opportunity or juxtaposition -- like the time I enjoyed the simultaneous presence of all three flagship preamps from Audio Research, Conrad-Johnson and VTL, or the unplanned combination of Naim’s Statement amps with the Wilson Sasha W/P 2s, as astonishingly successful as it was unexpected. Which perhaps helps to explain just how I’ve wound up with three of the most serious high-end digital integrated amplifiers, all occupying a single rack, along with my resident Levinson No.585. It’s a situation that you couldn’t contrive if you tried, but sometimes the heavens just open and present you with a chance that’s simply too good to miss.

The cast list for this particular audio adventure is short but distinguished: the CH Precision I1 (from $38,000 depending on included options), which Dennis Davis reviewed; the Jeff Rowland Daemon ($38,000) is awaiting my attention, while the Goldmund Telos 590 ($25,000) just happens to be passing through. Together the Levinson No.585 ($12,000) they make for a pretty heavy hitting high-end quartet, each with its own attributes and appeal. And that’s really the point here. This is no first-past-the-post exercise in anointing a new king. Instead it’s more a case of compare and contrast, an attempt to understand how these products differ (in musical terms) and just where digital integrateds stand in the high-end Pantheon -- a question that matters because not so long ago, the answer was somewhere between "not close" and "nowhere."

Putting a DAC inside an integrated amp seems like a no-brainer, creating a one-box, do-it-all system solution. Just add source and speakers and away you go, a short cut to high-value high-end nirvana. The economic appeal of the approach is undeniable, the single-box solution eliminating multiple expensive casework, cables, power cords and supports at a stroke. With a single power cord and support and with no analog interconnects to worry about (at least in a digital system) the savings can be considerable -- or consolidated to considerable musical effect, if the budget saved is deployed to improve the limited ancillaries required.

System and setup

The problem with trying to compare five different products in any meaningful way is the sheer number of variables that you are dealing with. Quite apart from the practicalities of level and warm-up so many products (and dealing with the inevitable snake-pit of power cords that sit, just waiting to snag each other and come adrift), each product also requires its own optimized environment, from choice of cabling to specifics of support and matching speakers.

In order to keep things manageable, I confined the variables as follows: the setup was wired throughout with either Nordost Valhalla 2 or Crystal Cable Absolute Dream (I know to my cost that the Gryphon products often don’t play nice with Nordost); each unit was assessed individually for preferred support strategy; source was limited to CD, replayed from the CEC TL2N transport. I used two sets of speakers -- the Vienna Acoustics Liszt, chosen for its wide bandwidth and far from simple load and the Apertura Edena Evolution, with its tellingly lucid musical presentation and easy drive characteristics. Both are quite capable of differentiating the various characteristics of the amplifiers, while the use of more ambitious pairings is more properly the province of a full review.

Speaker placement was optimized for each pairing before listening proper commenced, ensuring that simple variations in spectral balance didn’t subvert the proceedings. I also appreciate that for many listeners, the issue of the relative performance of the various USB inputs might be considered crucial; however, with this many separate units to evaluate, the available file-replay systems are neither consistent nor stable enough to allow meaningful comparisons or conclusions within a manageable timescale. Attempts to use file replay for meaningful comparison have always foundered on the vagaries of the source components, where disconnecting and reconnecting interconnects or rebooting drivers can spike system settings and more often than not have a significant impact on resulting sound. So when it comes to this sort of group review, sticking to the relative stability of physical media makes life a whole lot easier and the results more meaningful.

The other major organizational step was to confine group listening to three units at any one time, with the unused ones cycled into the system on a strict rotation. That way I got manageable sets for comparison and also got to listen to every unit alongside all the others.

Instead, what we can achieve is a broad comparison of how these units differ under these specific conditions. I can describe how they sound, relative to each other and in this system; change the system, change the cables, change the speakers and relative virtues will change too, although by how much it is impossible to say. However, those changes will be by degree rather than type, allowing extrapolation from these findings. In fact, this simply reflects and extends the limitations suffered by any review and the impossibility of reaching universal, definitive rankings or judgments. Those expecting such absolute judgments will be disappointed, but what we can do is identifying a general character and the likely scenarios in which these various units might thrive. The final choice, as always, is down to the individual.

-Roy Gregory

But somehow, life just never seems to be that simple. For years, digital integrateds looked long on value but failed dismally when it came to performance. Either the amp upset the DAC, or the DAC upset the amp, but either way the musical results were distinctly subpar. The first unit to hint at resolving this conundrum was Jeff Rowland’s Continuum, but the one that really nailed it was Levinson’s No.585. The company’s No.383 was both a longtime staple in my arsenal of review equipment and a hard act to follow, but the '585 buried its predecessor, both as an analog amplifier but also, crucially, in terms of the performance delivered by its internal DAC. I listened in amazement as the one-box Levinson, via its internal DAC, embarrassed a procession of highly rated CD players and standalone DACs feeding its analog line stage. That it did so at the comparatively modest price of $12,000 was even more amazing, considering that several of the DACs being used for comparison topped that price on their own. That was the point at which the No.585 became a keeper -- and since which it has become an indispensable part of the reviewing armory, as in part go-to, part do-it-all backup, part get-out-of-jail card. When nothing seems to be working the way I expect and it’s hard to understand why, I reach for the No.585 and it has yet to let me down.

Any way you look at it, the No.585 is a bruiser, delivering an incredible amount both in terms of physical content and facilities. The bluff fascia and substantial casework don’t lie: This is a big, heavy unit, much of its mass derived from the substantial toroidal transformer necessary to deliver its 200Wpc rated output (doubling into a 4-ohm load) and the house-brick-sized block of aluminum that totally encapsulates the DAC circuitry (and which goes a long way to explaining why this unit succeeds where so many others fail). Operationally, the twin rotary controls and central, user-programmable display are derived directly from the No.383, and that’s no bad thing. When it comes to ergonomics and the user interface, Mark Levinson has long set the benchmark, both in terms of setup and usability. Throw in six digital inputs (if you count the two TosLink opticals) including AES/EBU and USB, along with one balanced and three single-ended analog inputs (all individually trimable and nameable) and a single line output, and it makes for an impressive and capable feature list.

The digital integrated amp as high-end contender had finally arrived, although adopting the approach was still far from a guaranteed success. Indeed, the ability to manage the housekeeping necessary for accommodating digital decoding and analog amplification in the same chassis is just as crucial as it ever was -- which brings me to the three heavyweight and high-priced units being auditioned here.

CH Precision has a long history of developing extremely versatile software-controlled and -managed components, be they transports, DACs or amplification. They are no strangers to the issues that surround the coexistence of digital and high-powered analog circuitry, so it’s no surprise that the I1 is one of the most successful as well as one of the most versatile/configurable high-priced integrateds on the market. The I1 shares the same distinctive, slim casework as the majority of CH Precision products, featuring the single, dual-concentric control and large, central display that mark the brand’s identity. Everything about the display (and I do mean everything) is configurable, while the I1’s card-cage construction means that the array of digital, single-ended and balanced inputs can be chosen to suit the listener’s needs, with everything from network capability to a sophisticated phono stage (complete with switchable EQ curves) on offer.

Although it’s not strictly pertinent to this discussion, where I’m considering digital sources only, a closer look at the CH Precision phono implementation is instructive. Once you have the phono board installed, either or both of the single-ended analog inputs can be designated as individually configurable phono inputs, as well as being named on the display, of course. It’s typical of the sheer versatility that CH Precision incorporates into its products. A fully loaded I1 doesn’t come cheap, but when the company likens it to an audio Swiss Army knife, they’re referring to one of the models with 48 blades, a corkscrew and a tool for removing stones from your horse’s hoof.

The Goldmund Telos 590 is almost hair-shirt by comparison, which is even more surprising when you consider that it and the I1 are at least first cousins once removed, the CH Precision team (like an awful lot of the Swiss audio industry) having a stint at Goldmund firmly embedded in the CV. With single S/PDIF, USB and TosLink digital inputs to sit alongside its five single-ended analog connections, twin knobs for source select and volume and a basic remote control that adds mute to the feature count, the Telos 590 has a limited range of functions. So, you might well wonder, why bother to include it when the other units here offer so much more? The answer lies in the fact that Goldmund products have always been minimalist in nature, but they’ve been putting DACs in amplifiers for longer than pretty much anybody else. In fact, the company was an early adopter of digital signal transfer, running all signals throughout the system in the digital domain right up to the power amp’s input. There was even a tonearm/cartridge combination that carried a tiny A-to-D converter on the upper surface of the headshell, to preserve the digital signal path. Consider that and the fact that Goldmund’s amps have always been amongst their most impressive products and the Telos 590’s pedigree speaks for itself.

Our third high-end contender, Jeff Rowland’s Daemon, is yet another switch in design direction. This is a truly massive beast: twice the height of the CH Precision and dwarfing the Goldmund, only the Levinson No.585 is remotely in the same ballpark, and even that looks like a high-school senior standing next to a major league player. Of course, you get Rowland’s flawless casework, in this instance combined with a huge touch-screen display (that works better and more intuitively than most of the other touch screens I’ve found gracing audio products) and a horizontally disposed volume wheel that’s the size of a small pizza -- at least a small pizza where I come from. Carved from a sheet of thick aluminum plate and running on large-diameter bearings, it is silky smooth with its own inherent flywheel effect. I defy you to stroke it up or down the scale without a little sigh of satisfaction.

The Daemon’s back panel is awash with socketry: four S/PDIF (two on BNC and two on RCA), an AES/EBU, USB and three TosLink digital inputs, three pairs of balanced and four pairs of single-ended analog inputs, preamp outs on both single-ended RCAs and balanced XLRs, and two sets of Cardas binding posts per channel. The power connector is a high-current 20A type. But aside from the sheer quantity and variety of in and outputs, the real story here is all about power: the Daemon delivers a claimed 1500Wpc into an 8-ohm load, with 2.5kW available into 4 ohms. By now you’ll have figured that this is a class-D amp, the only digital amplifier here, but Jeff Rowland does digital like nobody else, and the proof of the pudding is in the listening.

Apart from the sheer variability in topology and facilities on offer, the other thing that is striking is the price of these units. If Mark Levinson can do the deed for $12,000, surely it can’t be that difficult to do it for two or three times that price? What might be more difficult is justifying that price, but that’s down to performance. What about units nearer to the Levinson’s price point? In an effort to gauge just how successfully the immediate competition have picked up the gauntlet thrown down by the No.585, I also requested one additional unit to round out this mini-survey -- Gryphon’s Diablo 120 ($9990 and $4250 for the internal DAC).

I have a high regard for Gryphon electronics, and a particularly high regard for the Atilla integrated amp, the former baby in the range and now replaced by the Diablo 120. Gryphon makes two integrated amps, the 120 and the larger, Daemon-sized Diablo 300. Neither is a class-A design, unlike the company’s standalone power amps, and in the case of the Diablo 300 that’s reflected in a very different musical style, long on taut, muscular definition and dynamic impact, less adept when it comes to the subtleties of tonality and dimensionality. But the Diablo 120 is a different beast that does a different job. It may not laugh in the face of difficult loudspeaker loads in the same way as the 300 (or, for that matter, the No.585), but for my money it delivers more of Gryphon’s traditional virtues, with a warm, fluid and engaging sound. It does, however, involve one significant practical compromise or consideration: the smaller casework means that you can have an internal DAC or phono stage ($2250) but not both. Otherwise (and configured as a digital integrated) the Diablo 120 offers the almost standard complement of S/PDIF, AES/EBU, USB and TosLink digital inputs to go with its single balanced and four line-level inputs. Outputs are limited to single pairs of speaker binding posts for each channel and a set of tape outs on RCA. The casework is identical to and built to the same standards as that found on Gryphon’s flagship products, and the Diablo 120 certainly looks the money.

Getting started: Mark Levinson No.585

But the first step in this process is to establish the sonic landscape -- which means establishing the expectations set by our benchmark, the Mark Levinson No.585 ($12,000).

As already noted, the No.585 is both familiar and present here as a benchmark. In keeping with the character of all the best Levinson products, this integrated is neither particularly high resolution or transparent; what it is is unfailingly listenable. Those two facets of its performance are no coincidence. The '585 has Levinson’s familiar warm and weighty balance, that little bit of extra heft around the nether regions kept in check by its ready power delivery and available headroom. That bottom end might take some controlling, but this amp has the muscle to do just that. Combined with a subtly rolled top end the result is a warm, slightly dark balance that mutes glare or harsh edges in program material but still has that combination of presence and projection to make music genuinely engaging, to conjure the sense of energy and intent behind a performance, whether that involves Siouxsie Sioux or Sarah Vaughn. Tracks like “Little Triggers” (from Elvis Costello’s This Year’s Model [Universal Set 00602517606319]) or “Love At the Five And Dime” (from Nanci Griffith’s One Fair Summer Evening [MCAD-42255]) play perfectly to the Levinson’s strengths, the combination of space and substance required something that the amp delivers with aplomb. The hesitations that precede the avalanche drum patterns on the Costello track give just the right boost to the explosive percussion, while Griffith’s long, spoken intro never lags or lacks for body, the amp embracing and preserving the natural rhythms and diction, accent and accents of speech.

The '585’s easy weight and warmth come well to the fore with natural-sounding recordings, whether those are rock, pop, jazz or classical. With the Vienna Acoustics speakers, the sound was substantial, both in terms of physical presence and the expansive soundstage, the '585 well able to exploit the Liszt’s wide bandwidth and rich tonality. In contrast, the Apertura speaker’s lucid transparency was less flattering to the No.585, showing both the limits to its resolution and its agility. Occasionally I could hear the amp tripping over its own bottom-end generosity or lacking the edges that ought to be there -- not so much in its own performance, where it covered its tracks with an easy grace and warmth, but in comparison to the other amps here.

However, those comparisons and the related conclusions (specific and general) must wait for the second installment of this particular magnum opus. This will be along shortly, but in the spirit of keeping things manageable, this is a good point at which to take a break.

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