At first glance, the Sasha DAW and Sasha 2 might look outwardly similar, but those familiar with the earlier model will quickly appreciate the far-from-subtle aesthetic differences. The larger cabinet volumes of the newer model have resulted in a revised profile, with the concave side panels on the head units now bowing outward as well, in a complex, composite plane, and the larger bass unit featuring a significant taper toward its base. Together the changes can make the speaker appear pumped up and bulbous in photographs, but then the camera and the eye see things very differently. In the flesh, the DAW looks smoother, more planted, more integrated and more of a piece -- altogether a finer piece of furniture than the Sasha 2. The review pair was turned out in a satin-finish, lemon-yellow paint, which, after years of high-gloss automotive colors, came as a bit of a shock, but which has steadily grown on me. Other eyes (and other interiors) may well demur, but here the cool yellow color fits right in.

There’s one other apparently small but musically significant difference between the DAW and its predecessor. You’ll find it on the spec sheet, which notes a minimum impedance of 2.48 ohms as opposed to 2.17 for the Sasha 2. That might not seem like a lot, but then you aren’t the driving amplifier being asked to respond to that load. That increase in minimum impedance, together with the larger internal volumes and revised port, will act to make the DAW easier to drive -- and that will allow the driving amplifier to sound better too. This has very real musical and financial implications for prospective owners. Not so long ago I completed a comparative survey of VTL’s MB-450 and MB-185 models using, amongst other speakers, you guessed it, the Sasha 2. The firm recommendation was that while the MB-185 had its own considerable appeal, in the case of the Wilson speaker, the extra grunt delivered by the '450 should be considered mandatory.

Yet, in the case of the DAW, I spent much of my time using VTL’s S-200 stereo amp -- almost literally half the amp represented by the '450 monos, with half the footprint, only one power cord and a little over half the price tag. Factor all those things together and that’s a significant reduction in the cost of DAW ownership compared to the Sasha 2. Nor are you cheaping out. The S-200 might not be a pair of MB-450s, but in combination with the DAWs, the results were exceptional, with a genuine sense of scale, power and impact. Suddenly, the DAW becomes something of a game-changer -- not just better than its predecessor but significantly more accessible too. While I hesitate to describe the S-200/DAW combination as affordable, it is at least in a price bracket where those who seriously want it can realistically work toward ownership.

ombine all of these apparently small or subtle distinctions -- half an ohm here, a bit more internal volume or cabinet material there -- and it becomes apparent why what might look on paper and in person like a case of mere tinkering actually represents the proverbial great leap forward. So established is the WATT/Puppy physical format that it’s easy to pass over significant evolutionary changes simply because things still appear the same. Yet each and every step on the developmental path from Sasha 2 to Sasha DAW has contributed to and enhanced the speaker’s response to input, from the increased cabinet volumes and new drivers to the easier load seen by the amplifier. In particular, and as the Sasha 2 demonstrated so impressively, changes to the woofer cabinet’s linearity, speed and coloration levels will reap significant benefits in clarity and articulation further up the range. What started in the Sasha 2’s bottom end is further improved and refined in the DAW's. Taken together, these changes are no small thing, and, in musical terms, their collective impact is profound, allowing recorded performances greater expressive scope, through improved temporal accuracy and greater dynamic discrimination.

The other amp that proved spectacularly effective with the Sasha DAWs was the new Trilogy Audio 995R, a 50-watt hybrid (solid-state output), class-A monoblock. Its open clarity, transparency, focus and dynamic range are reminiscent of what made the original Krell KSA-50 so popular when it first appeared. Of course, back then nobody was proposing pairing the WATT/Puppy with the KSA-50, KMA-100s being the default choice. The massive acoustic space and towering dynamics generated by the Trilogy/DAW combination are yet another indication of just how the world according to the WATT/Puppy has changed. That change might have started with the Sasha 2, but the DAW has added serious impetus and momentum.

Listening to the finale of the 1962 Karajan/BPO Beethoven 9th [Deutsche Grammophon Gesellschaft 463 088-2] rams the point home emphatically. The DAWs reproduced the huge soundstage that characterizes this performance, the acoustic space extending well outside the speakers and with a clearly defined sense of depth and height. This is a precisely constructed space, not just a vast cavern that fades off at its extremes. The combination of orchestra and choir fill it convincingly, the soloists impressively spread across the stage, the sense of reverberant energy adding to the impact and drama. But what really brings the performance to life is the ability of the Trilogy/DAW pairing to discriminate between orchestral layers and dynamic steps, ramping up the intensity one carefully spaced step at a time, while allowing instruments and voices to coexist comfortably at different levels. It’s a quality that heightens the chromatic and dramatic contrasts that make this such an emotive piece of music.

Just as interesting was the contrast with the 1984 version [Mobile Fidelity UHQCD 482 436], which, despite an even more emphatically dramatic and dynamic recording/reading, lacks the musical quality and impact of the earlier version, with its greater presence, weight and warmer balance. This ability to reflect both the scale and the musical sensibilities in a recording is key to the DAWs’ musical accomplishment. Whether it’s Herbert and the classical canon, or the genre-crossing soul-pop of Michael Kiwanuka’s Love & Hate [Polydor 4783458], the speakers are effortlessly responsive to changes in musical mood or density. The complex, three-part structure of "Cold Little Heart" is perhaps the perfect example, from the slowly building introduction with its almost Gilmour-esque guitar line, to the crunching beat and funky bass of that familiar central section, the cooed backing vocals and gentle acoustic guitar such a stark contrast to the desolate vocal. Where many speakers stumble over the sudden, unexpected pressure drop into the coda, the DAWs make it a natural progression, a shift that makes both musical and emotional sense. It’s a performance that both heightens the appreciation of the music and elevates (or simply reveals) the quality of the driving system.

The combination of the DAWs’ enthusiastically responsive, expressive bent, along with their sense of natural musical shape and temporal organization, can be something of a double-edged sword when it comes to system matching. The very qualities that make it work with an amp like the VTL S-200 also encourage you to look for bigger, bolder amplifiers and crisper, more dynamic cables. As a result, the easy wins that come with a more dramatically demonstrative presentation perhaps lead you away from other aspects of the DAWs' performance envelope. Protracted listening suggests that the Sasha DAW will never match the composure of speakers like the Stenheim Alumine 5 or the Wilson Benesch Resolution -- but that’s not the same as saying that the DAWs lack emotional or expressive subtlety. Running them on the end of a Crystal Cable Ultimate Dream cable loom demonstrates just how deft and delicate they can be, while pairing with the VTL S-400 shows what a significantly more refined amp brings to the party. In this case, the specifics are not the point, more the fact that the speaker responds so clearly to input and matching components. It leaves me seriously wondering just how it would have mated with the midband delicacy and textural subtleties of the MB-185 Series III monoblocks.

Wilson speakers are justifiably renowned for their dynamic and expressive impact. The flip side to that is the suggestion that their sheer musical presence and bolder flourishes can conspire to obscure the more refined, textural elements in the recording. The DAW’s step change in musical, temporal and dynamic coherence gives the lie to that assertion. As I just said, it may not match the speakers that excel in that regard, but it stands significantly closer than any previous Wilson, bar the WAMM MC.

But to realize that potential you might just find yourself looking at unexpected equipment pairings. As already noted, the DAWs are considerably easier to drive than the Sasha 2s. That opens the door to a wider range of driving amplifiers -- and increases the options when it comes to balancing the system’s virtues. It wouldn’t surprise me to see seasoned Wilson listeners, inured by years of previous experience, almost automatically hanging the DAWs on the end of a pair of VTL MB-450s -- with the result that they’ll sound like a better Sasha 2. But reaching up or down the range -- to the S-400 or the MB-185 -- will reveal a whole different side to the speaker, without diluting its traditional strengths. And that’s just within VTL’s range. Other options abound.

Despite the sheer range of material and partnering equipment that I’ve employed on the DAWs, one disc more than any other seems to encapsulate their performance. Concerto [JCW Recordings JCW3] is a collection of three disparate works for guitar, funded by and featuring John Williams, along with the ECO or RPO with Paul Daniel conducting. The different pieces present the listener with a range of musical styles and moods as well as present the system with a range of different challenges, from the rhythmic and dynamic drive and complexity of the Salinas Danzas Peregrinas to the contrasting musical vocabulary and sensibilities of the Goss Guitar Concerto, with its defined, tripartite structure and deeply evocative themes.

Despite the sheer vitality and insistent rhythms of the Salinas dances, this is no mere mechanical exercise in repetitive steps and beat. The opening "Preludio," a carefully figured duet between guitar and cello, is hauntingly wistful, the DAWs offering the performance as a model of sculpted lines, reflective exchange and cautious familiarity. The conversation between the two instruments is at once intimate and distant, its carefully articulated phrases so evocative of what is said (and not said) when exiles meet -- a dance within the dance that the Wilsons capture exactly, in turn setting the scene for the exuberant release that’s to follow. Written while the composer was excluded from his native Argentina by the Pinochet regime, the Salinas Danzas Peregrinas embody the traveler's longing for home; the DAWs evoke that longing through the playing and their performance, not least through the way they present the sense of orchestral space and musical vista to create distance around and beyond the solo instruments. Most speaker systems at this level should reflect that device within the orchestration. What elevates the DAWs above the crowd is that they make its sense and impact both obvious and a natural extension of the solo parts. Also impressive is the speakers’ ability to respond to the sudden dynamic contrasts and shifts in musical density demanded by the score. This music should be engaging, startling and joyous, yet also underpinned with a deeply rooted sadness; it’s an emotional range that the DAWs embrace fully and effortlessly. It’s easy to get carried away with the fireworks and infectious energy of the dances -- the Wilsons keep you grounded to the more serious message in this music.

Compared to the Salinas, the Goss Concerto provides a stark contrast, in terms of scale, orchestration and, musically speaking, within itself. It is classically structured in three movements for a single guitar and full orchestra, the composer overcoming the dynamic constraints and limited level of the solo instrument by amplifying it to allow broader dynamic range and greater musical contrasts. The three movements are also essentially independent, the first reflecting the music of the United States, with its own distinctive musical idiom and jazz rhythms, the third a Latin piece with a broader, typically elegiac second movement evoking British classical traditions. When the piece is played live, the orchestra can effortlessly shift between the different tonal and chromatic palettes demanded by the score, but for audio systems, the switches are not so easy, their dynamic and tonal limitations compressing the distinctions -- especially given the composer’s stated dynamic goals. It’s an acid test of any speaker’s expressive capabilities, reflecting both bandwidth and musical coherence, dynamic and tonal compression -- a test paper that definitely favors the bigger, more sophisticated candidates.

It’s also a test the Sasha DAWs simply ace, the musical and cultural contrasts vividly apparent, the shades of Copland, Gershwin and Villa Lobos eerily present. But as unmistakable as the echoes of Appalachian Spring Suite and An American in Paris are, it’s the second movement that really rams home the message. This couldn’t sound any more like Elgar if it tried, the DAWs delivering just the right mix of emotive melodic theme and orchestration that teeters just the right side of outright bombast. It’s a performance that depends on scale and sheer power, but also demands control and discrimination, in terms of location and tonality, instrumental nature and level. Too little and it lacks impact; too much and it tumbles over itself into pastiche. The DAWs not only tread that tightrope, they do it with a grace and ease that allow them to stand aside from the music, allowing it to flow into the room with no sense of gating or mechanical agency. To achieve such musically coherent and intelligible output from such a compact enclosure -- and to do it so effortlessly -- is quite remarkable. It marks the DAWs out as a very special speaker indeed, that rare beast that is big enough to satisfy but small enough to live with -- and maybe even afford.

here will still be those who seek more refinement or more polished manners, who will value greater resolution and thus more detail, but for me the sense of presence and integrated musical information, the expressive range and increasing subtlety trump such concerns. While once I lived with and loved the Sasha 2, the Sasha DAW betters it in every respect, musically, practically and aesthetically.

Years ago, I remember being startled by my first exposure to an Avalon speaker -- a transducer that had less impact on the musical character of the system than its driving amplifier. The DAW is, in its own way, the first affordable Wilson to approach that level of invisibility, yet it still delivers the marque’s established musical virtues. A fitting memorial to a man who both founded the company and jump-started the high end, the latest Sasha isn’t a speaker for everyman, but it’s a speaker that every man might actually aspire to. It sets a new benchmark, both at this critical price point and for Wilson Audio as a company, looking to the future. As one seasoned listener remarked upon hearing the Sasha DAWs, “Ahhh, Dave’s best product -- Daryl!” That’s quite an epitaph, but then as the DAW so ably demonstrates, Wilson Audio’s future is in the safest of hands.