Up to 84% in savings when you subscribe to The Absolute Sound
Logo Close Icon

Begin typing your search above and press return to search. Press Esc to cancel.

Plinius SB-301 Amplifier

Plinius SB-301 Amplifier

The Plinius SB-301 has been in my system only a week, but even in that short time span this 310Wpc New Zealander has reignited music in ways that are nothing short of enthralling. The largest beneficiary of the Plinius’ charms, by far, was my compact loudspeaker reference, the ATC SCM20- 2. “Transformational” might sound like too strong a word, but it applies.

At the time I wrote the review of the ATCs, I was fairly confident that I’d extracted as much of their potential as I could, and had accurately described them, including shortcomings that resided mostly in the treble octaves. I knew the ATCs, an acoustic-suspension design with 83dB sensitivity, hungered for power in the same way that a Hummer craves fossil fuel. But it was not as if they’d been wanting for powerful amplification. Over the months they’ve been driven by the crème de la crème of high-power amps, including integrateds like the Plinius 9200, the Chapter Précis, and the MBL 6011, as well as Class D amplifiers like the Spectron Musician III and Rowland Model 201 monoblocks. They’d all taken their best shot, often with excellent results. I wrote the ATC review in spite of a feeling that there was still untapped performance to be had from a treble that seemed slightly crimped at times rather than expansive, and dynamics that sounded constrained, especially in the mid and upper bass.

This is all a roundabout way of saying that the SB-301, a high-bias Class AB solid-stater has permitted the ATCs to finally and fully (I think) clear their throat and shrug off the dynamic handcuffs. Bryn Terfel’s rosewood baritone now emerges with unbridled gusto. The Plinius unlocks the tendency of the ATCs to compress mid- and upper-bass dynamics, without which a presentation is dulled and diminished in texture and complexity. It sculpts an orchestral soundstage with confidence and grace, layering air and images to the back of the hall. It creates dimensionality and openness with soloists and orchestral sections alike. It extracts midbass extension and clarity from the system and by doing this increases the scale of the soundstage. Thanks to a lowering of the noise floor, the micro-halos and comet trails that can cling to transients have all but vanished. Solo violin, for example, is not only harmonically more extended but sweeter (a characteristic that seems hardwired into the SB-301’s personality), as if the arteries that send treble information to the tweeter had received a sonic angioplasty.

Neil Gader

By Neil Gader

My love of music largely predates my enthusiasm for audio. I grew up Los Angeles in a house where music was constantly playing on the stereo (Altecs, if you’re interested). It ranged from my mom listening to hit Broadway musicals to my sister’s early Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Beatles, and Stones LPs, and dad’s constant companions, Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett. With the British Invasion, I immediately picked up a guitar and took piano lessons and have been playing ever since. Following graduation from UCLA I became a writing member of the Lehman Engel’s BMI Musical Theater Workshops in New York–working in advertising to pay the bills. I’ve co-written bunches of songs, some published, some recorded. In 1995 I co-produced an award-winning short fiction movie that did well on the international film-festival circuit. I was introduced to Harry Pearson in the early 70s by a mutual friend. At that time Harry was still working full-time for Long Island’s Newsday even as he was writing Issue 1 of TAS during his off hours. We struck up a decades-long friendship that ultimately turned into a writing gig that has proved both stimulating and rewarding. In terms of music reproduction, I find myself listening more than ever for the “little” things. Low-level resolving power, dynamic gradients, shadings, timbral color and contrasts. Listening to a lot of vocals and solo piano has always helped me recalibrate and nail down what I’m hearing. Tonal neutrality and presence are important to me but small deviations are not disqualifying. But I am quite sensitive to treble over-reach, and find dry, hyper-detailed systems intriguing but inauthentic compared with the concert-going experience. For me, true musicality conveys the cozy warmth of a room with a fireplace not the icy cold of an igloo. Currently I split my time between Santa Fe, New Mexico and Studio City, California with my wife Judi Dickerson, an acting, voice, and dialect coach, along with border collies Ivy and Alfie.

More articles from this editor

Read Next From Review

See all

Adblocker Detected

"Neque porro quisquam est qui dolorem ipsum quia dolor sit amet, consectetur, adipisci velit..."

"There is no one who loves pain itself, who seeks after it and wants to have it, simply because it is pain..."