2022 Golden Ear: Magnepan LRS+ Quasi-Ribbon Loudspeaker

REVIEW
by Jonathan Valin
Oct 07, 2022

Magnepan LRS+ Quasi-Ribbon Loudspeaker

$995 ($289, dedicated steel stands)

Though I’ve already raved about the genuinely rave-worthy Stenheim Alumine 5 SE in this year’s Golden Ears (and am about to rave, yet again, about the nonpareil MBL 101 X-treme), here we have a truly remarkable planar loudspeaker that costs 70-to-320 times less than my twin references. The original LRS got praised unqualifiedly by just about everyone who reviewed it, except me. Oh, it was and is extremely lifelike in the midrange (as all Maggies are), but the first-gen LRS didn’t have much bass and its treble was rough, brightish, and limited in extension, making for a less than robust and seamless top-to-bottom balance. For the money, the LRS was (and is) a very good deal, but to my ear it had “issues.” Comes now the updated LRS+ (with its own stout, must-buy, optional aluminum stands), and those things I had reservations about in the original—in the low end and on top—have been ameliorated. From about 60Hz on up, the new LRS+ is a simply phenomenal loudspeaker. You’ll notice I didn’t say “phenomenal for the money” (though it is phenomenal for the money), because the fact is that the LRS+ would be praiseworthy for twice the dough. No, it doesn’t have quite the stage height, image size, low-end reach, dynamic range, and uncannily natural tone color of its closest competition in the Maggie line, the superb MG1.7i, but for smallish spaces (even for medium-sized) ones at less-than-thunderous volumes it is gonna be very hard to beat in sheer absolute-sound realism from the midbass up. I don’t know what Wendell Diller (who designed it—and everything else from Maggie in recent years) has done differently, but it was certainly for the better. This is another slam-dunk POY nominee, and, IMO, the best buy (along with the MG1.7i) in an affordable loudspeaker for modest-sized rooms.

Tags: AWARDS FLOORSTANDING LOUDSPEAKER MAGNEPAN

By Jonathan Valin

I’ve been a creative writer for most of life. Throughout the 80s and 90s, I wrote eleven novels and many stories—some of which were nominated for (and won) prizes, one of which was made into a not-very-good movie by Paramount, and all of which are still available hardbound and via download on Amazon. At the same time I taught creative writing at a couple of universities and worked brief stints in Hollywood. It looked as if teaching and writing more novels, stories, reviews, and scripts was going to be my life. Then HP called me up out of the blue, and everything changed. I’ve told this story several times, but it’s worth repeating because the second half of my life hinged on it. I’d been an audiophile since I was in my mid-teens, and did all the things a young audiophile did back then, buying what I could afford (mainly on the used market), hanging with audiophile friends almost exclusively, and poring over J. Gordon Holt’s Stereophile and Harry Pearson’s Absolute Sound. Come the early 90s, I took a year and a half off from writing my next novel and, music lover that I was, researched and wrote a book (now out of print) about my favorite classical records on the RCA label. Somehow Harry found out about that book (The RCA Bible), got my phone number (which was unlisted, so to this day I don’t know how he unearthed it), and called. Since I’d been reading him since I was a kid, I was shocked. “I feel like I’m talking to God,” I told him. “No,” said he, in that deep rumbling voice of his, “God is talking to you.” I laughed, of course. But in a way it worked out to be true, since from almost that moment forward I’ve devoted my life to writing about audio and music—first for Harry at TAS, then for Fi (the magazine I founded alongside Wayne Garcia), and in the new millennium at TAS again, when HP hired me back after Fi folded. It’s been an odd and, for the most part, serendipitous career, in which things have simply come my way, like Harry’s phone call, without me planning for them. For better and worse I’ve just gone with them on instinct and my talent to spin words, which is as close to being musical as I come.