Octave Audio's lineage goes back to 1968, when founder Karl Heinze Hofmann established a transformer-winding factory; the company still builds transformers for a few OEMs. Seven years later, his son, Andreas, introduced hi-fi electronics to the business. The Octave brand name appeared in 1980, and its first product, the HP 500 tube preamp, appeared in 1986. Since 2000, Octave products, hand built in Karlsbad, Germany, have focused on hybrid -- tube-and-solid-state-based -- electronics, an approach that couples transistor front ends to pentode-designed tubed output stages. Octave’s line of components includes power amplifiers, preamplifiers, integrated amplifiers, phono stages and headphone amps. To quote Octave Audio, their hybrid technology achieves, “. . . the optimal synthesis of traditional tube technology and innovative semiconductor circuitry. Tubes ensure the remarkable sound performance of our amplifiers, while our innovative transistor circuits play an important part in enabling the tubes to completely maximize their audiophile potential.” Additionally, every Octave Audio product uses components that are mostly developed and manufactured in-house. Dynaudio North America distributes Octave products in the US and Canada.

The Phono EQ.2 is a solidly built, magnetically shielded, brushed-black-aluminum rectangular box, 4"W x 2 1/8"H x 6 1/2"D, weighing a little over two pounds. The front is adorned with a small blue LED, which, when lit, indicates the unit is powered on. Op-amps handle the primary MM/MC gain and line-level output, with phono equalization handled by a discrete passive RIAA circuit. An optimized subsonic filter completes the circuit features.

Around back are receptacles for the small, hospital-grade, 24V DC switching power supply, a large grounding post, a switch for selecting between MC or MM cartridges, and gold-plated input RCAs for both. There is a single pair of gold-plated RCA output jacks. Impressively, two turntables can be connected to this device at the same time, one sporting a moving-coil cartridge and the other a moving-magnet.

On the bottom of the chassis are two small cutouts giving access to the DIP switches used for selecting gain and capacitance loading for MC cartridges. You have your choice of four gain settings: 58, 62, 68, 72dB, which should handle any MC cartridges out there. Load capacitance for MCs is selectable in 12(!) steps from 62 to 1000 ohms, so that you can fiddle with the settings to yours heart’s desire. Life is simpler for those using MM cartridges, because gain and loading are fixed at 50dB and 47K ohms, respectively. Adjusting the DIP switches requires good light, a magnifying glass and a tool for choosing the setting. I auditioned the Phono EQ.2 with a handful of cartridges, including a Dynavector DV-20x2H, Audio-Technica VM95SH, Audio-Technica Mono3/LP, and an AudioQuest 1.1 (a vintage medium-output MC) without any issues. The majority of my listening was with the Dynavector.

usually begin equipment-evaluation listening sessions with the double LP Atomos [Kranky Krank 190] by the ambient music duo A Winged Victory For the Sullen. Scored for a Wayne McGregor dance sequence by Stars of the Lid’s Adam Wiltzie and pianist Dustin O'Halloran, the music, created by a cello choir, a pair of violins, viola, piano, harp and synthesizer, unfolds like a slow-moving, dense fog. As described by Pitchfork’s Brian Howe, “. . . it is recorded in large spaces so that between natural acoustic and electronic effects, every instrument seems to float in an ocean-sized force field of harmonic resonance.” I would add that it’s also composed of many fine inner details waiting to be uncovered as your system’s resolution allows.

At roughly two and a half minutes into the first track on side 1, the first of three deep bass notes sounds, followed a few seconds later by a deeper note and, finally, at the three-minute mark, thumps a bass note so deep it could be felt as well as heard. My reference PS Audio GCPH phono stage, though long in the tooth, had no trouble with the low bass on this track. It was presented fully extended and taut. The Octave Phono EQ.2, however, not only captured that lowest bass note with authority and heft, it lent a degree of “personality” and micro detail to the passage that had eluded the PS Audio. Throughout all four sides of this album, with the Phono EQ.2 pushing the phono signal, I was repeatedly impressed with the expansive soundscape, beguiling tone and revelation of fine detail of the music re-created in my listening room, in sound as rich as I’ve heard from my system. It endowed this often drone-like, melancholy music with character, a trait that heightened my appreciation of what was entering my ears.

Wanting to pick up the musical pace a bit, I turned to Roger Eno’s 2023 release The Skies, They Shift Like Chords [Deutsche Grammophon 028948650217]. This album is a potpourri of spare, elegant, soothing music bordering on New Age/ambient but with more content. From the luscious flow of Scoring Berlin’s strings on “Chordal Drift” to Alexander Glücksmann’s clarinet(s) on “Tidescape;” from Eno’s ethereal piano on “That Which Is Hidden” to the barely discernable voices of Vocalconsort Berlin on “Illusion” and the cat-and-mouse strings on “Mind the Gap,” I found myself at ease with the Phono EQ.2’s ability to both reveal fine performance details and maintain musical integrity and interest. For example, every word of Cecily Eno’s narrative on “Strangely, I Dreamt” was clearly understood, as were Jon Goddard’s subtle, low electric guitar figures on the album’s closer, “Where Does This Lead Us?” As the final strains of “Japanese Rain Garden” turned to the natural sounds of chirping birds, I turned to look out my window to see them. All in all, I found the overall musical balance and level of involvement were as good as I’ve ever heard from my system.

For an abrupt change of pace I placed Lou Reed’s live recording Rock N' Roll Animal [RCA APL1-0472] on the turntable. Recorded a few days before Christmas 1973 at New York’s Academy of Music, the album captures five searing performances by Reed and his hand-picked band in all its ragged glory. Among the most exciting live recordings in my collection, it captures the twin guitars of Steve Hunter and Dick Wagner in a violent, feedback-laden frenzy as they face off with one another, with Reed’s voice the perfect adjunct. Prakash John’s spirited bass and Pentti Glan’s drumming created a rock-solid foundation for the proceedings and ceaselessly propelled the beat forward. Captured on tape by the Record Plant Mobile Studio’s Frank Hubach, the sound of my orange label, Dynaflex first pressing is dynamic, spacious and saturated with attitude. The squall of sound coming from my speakers kept me glued to my seat throughout both sides of the LP. It’s to the Octave phono stage’s credit that each guitar riff, run and slide was stunningly unraveled, as were Reed’s often indecipherable lyrics, clearly heard over the roar of the music and rendered quite intelligible. Both of these conditions lead me to a better understanding of the music and a closer emotional connection.

Wanting to hear what this album would sound like with an MC cartridge, I installed my AudioQuest 1.1. Given its output of 1.1mV, I flicked the selector switch to MC, set the gain on the Phono EQ.2 to 58dB and load to 100 ohms. These proved to be ideal settings for this cartridge, providing ample gain and a smooth overall sound. Throughout the album, the  cartridge generated tangible images of the performers on stage, perhaps none more surprising than that which occurs at 4:18 into the show’s final song, “Rock ‘N’ Roll.” An electric guitar enters on the left with a riff which is sustained throughout the song. So palpable was this initial guitar entry that it took me by surprise, and I jumped. A little over a minute later, Prakash John enters with a rollicking bass line that only grows in intensity as the song progresses. Then, at around the six-minute mark, Pentii Glan begins an insinuating drum beat until, at 7:30 into the song, the entire band is in full sonic assault. With a grin on my face, I settled into my chair eager to listen until the song’s end.

One of the benefits of record collecting is the discovery of LPs that offer exceptional value in terms of music and/or sound quality. I recently discovered such albums after pursuing a tip from a video on YouTube: a series of sampler compilation albums from Warner Bros. Records, released from 1969 thru 1980, referred to as Warner/Reprise Loss Leaders. Each album (usually a gatefold two-fer) contains a wide variety of music (often obscure) by artists under contract to Warner Bros. or its subsidiaries, such as Reprise. Available only by mail, they sold for the ridiculously low price of $2 for a two-record set. In all, there were 34 titles released and I’ve set a goal to adding them all to my collection. In the days before streaming services such as Qobuz, those albums' ability to open doors to new music was unequaled. In addition, since each track has received different engineering and mastering, I find them invaluable in helping assess the sound quality of components under review.

For example, in Limo [Warner Bros. PRO 691], the music ranges from Ry Cooder, Leo Sayer, Wendy Waldman and Henhouse Five Plus Two (Ray Stevens) to Bonnie Raitt, Fleetwood Mac, Al Jarreau, and Rod Stewart. On The Big Ball [Warner Bros. PRO 358], you get an amazing-sounding “Caravan” by Van Morrison, an early, gnarly mono recording of Fleetwood Mac’s ”Oh Well,” along with Pentangle’s “Sally Go Round the Roses,” Jethro Tull’s “Nothing Is Easy,” and “Flying” by Small Faces. The quality of the individual recordings in each set varies, with the good ones sounding that way and the bad ones exposed. The Van Morrison, along with the Fleetwood Mac and Pentangle, are exceptional with Jethro Tull, Small Faces, Family and Kinks somewhat less so.

The better the component under review, the easier those differences become known. Especially on the better recordings, the sonic character of the numerous recording venues used to capture the performances is revealed, to a greater or lesser degree, by a component under evaluation. I favor components that enable me to picture, in my mind's eye, the acoustics of the recording space, be it an intimate studio, nightclub, auditorium or concert hall. The Octave Phono EQ.2 was a champion at achieving this. For example, Van Morrison's "Caravan" exhibited a broad, believable soundstage, with sharply defined voice and instruments. The same goes for Pentangle's "Sally Go Round the Roses" and Jethro Tull's "Nothing Is Easy." Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well," a monaural recording, stood in stark contrast to those, although it delivered stunning guitar sound. The other monaural recording, the Kink's "When I Turn Out the Living Room Light," was a disappointment -- compressed and "tinny"-sounding. Finally, the Small Faces' "Flying" and Family's "No Mule's Fool" delivered muddy, polite sound. It's to the Octave Phono EQ.2's credit that these similarities and differences were exposed so clearly.

A while back I picked up a first English pressing of Roger Waters' epic story tale from 1984, The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking [EMI SHVL 2401051] -- yes, the one with the “naughty” cover. Mastered by Doug Sax, I remembered it being a dynamic tour de force, musically and sonically, with layer after layer of information to unmask. At the time, it proved to be a challenge to my system. Thinking it would now provide a challenge to the Octave Phono EQ.2, I cued it up. I was in awe at what I heard. I’ve listened to this album many times, but I cannot remember that I have ever heard it sound as dynamic, textured and explicitly detailed as with the Phono EQ.2. The flurry of notes freed from the strings of Eric Clapton’s guitar and Dobro were caught by my ears with close to tactile qualities, giving each string its own personality. The sinewy rasp of the guitars' unwound steel strings was easily discerned. Similarly, the late David Sanborn’s alto sax was easily identified by its characteristic crying tone and rhythmic drive. Its sound was so present that I began to imagine what hardness of reed Sanborn was using. The dynamics caught on this recording were often startling, enhanced by the absolute silence of the Phono EQ.2.

Wanting to stick to this genre, I looked into the “N” section of my record collection and grabbed my recently acquired copy of the Bernie Grundman-mastered version of Nirvana’s Nevermind on silver vinyl [DGC 2445]. Not only is Nevermind one of the most important albums of the 1990s, it might be argued that it’s one of the seminal albums in rock’s history. It’s also generally agreed that the Bernie Grundman mastering of that album is the best-sounding. I have heard this album many times over the years. I bought my first copy upon its release in 1991, and I sold that album a while back for a tidy sum. That copy notwithstanding, I have never heard it sound as compelling or involving as with the Octave Phono EQ.2. The dynamics, separation of instruments and level of detail throughout the squall of organized noise this trio of musicians generated were startling. David Grohl’s drum kit was unmistakably strong and present in the soundscape behind Chris Novoselic’s overdriven bass. Cobain’s voice was just “there,” front and center, exposed in all its raw, bile-ridden rage. The effect of all that energy was so exhausting to me that I could only make it through a few songs before taking a break. Though the mastering obviously contributed to this situation, the Octave Phono EQ.2 held nothing back in the delivery of the music and its message.

Wanting a change, I’ve always been a fan of Bartok’s string quartets and found the 1958 interpretations by the Fine Arts Quartet, caught in early stereo sound by Concertapes, especially rewarding. The Concert-Disc [Concertapes CS-207] recording of the first two quartets sounded especially fine with the Phono EQ.2 in the chain. When the stylus found the music, the four members of the ensemble were placed in a semicircle before me in classic string-quartet style, as seen in the cover photo: the first and second violins on the left, the cello centered and the viola to the cellist’s left. Once again, the Octave Phono EQ.2 transported me to the recording’s venue, where I savored the challenging beauty of Bartok’s compositions and the quartet’s music making. Especially compelling was the superb balance between the lows of the cello and the highs of the violins. The texture of the sound coming from each of the stringed instruments, the resonance of the wooden body, and the buzz of the strings were almost palpable.

Finally, toward the end of my time with the Phono EQ.2, I reached for one of my favorite symphonic works, Shostakovich’s Symphony No.11, in a recording widely regarded as a true reference -- Paavo Berglund and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra [EMI SLS 5177]. My copy, a reissue from 1982, came from the collection of Michael Hobson at Classic Records, and it is a gem. Playing it through the system as presently configured, with the Phono EQ.2 installed, reminded me of why I got into this hobby in the first place. During the first moments of the first movement, I sat holding my breath, waiting for the relief which came a bit later. I had not experienced such a visceral reaction to this evocative music before. I looked at the diminutive black box sitting on my equipment rack with continuing admiration as it repeatedly and consistently brought me closer to the music.

uring my time with the Octave Phono EQ.2, I felt compelled to return for a listen to favorite albums I’ve lived with over the years and know intimately. Consequently, dozens of LPs found their way onto the Music Hall Stealth’s platter. Those sessions lasted longer, as each album revealed new delights. Each occasion rewarded me with an enhanced listening experience, as I heard choice recordings in more revealing and emotionally involving ways. The late singer Eva Cassidy’s 1996 live recording from Washington D.C’s Blues Alley [Blix Street Records G8-10210] transported me to a seat inside that brick-walled club. I turned down the lights and was there with Miss Cassidy and the band spread out before me on the stage with an almost tangible presence. And then with the recent Craft Recording stunning reissue of the Bill Evans Trio’s Waltz For Debby [Prestige/Craft Recordings CR00617], it was easy to pretend I was just a few feet from the bandstand in that intimate cellar venue known as the Village Vanguard.

I could keep naming record after record. It was experiences such as these that prompted me to consider the daunting task of re-listening to every record in my collection. Any component that can prompt such a response deserves my highest recommendation, and the Octave Phono EQ.2 easily gets it. Whether with an MM or MC cartridge, it conveyed all the dynamics, tonality and space in recordings as well as any other phono stage I’ve heard, and it did so without imparting any personality of its own. That is an impressive accomplishment. In today’s world of obscene prices for much audiophile equipment, the Phono EQ.2’s modest cost makes for a no-brainer audition. I predict you will be impressed with what you hear.