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Ortofon MC X40 Phono Cartridge

Ortofon MC X40

It doesn’t get much better than this. As I was setting up Ortofon’s MC X40, its latest mid-priced moving-coil cartridge, “I read the news…oh boy” that Apple Records was preparing an expanded four-volume Beatles Anthology for a gala re-release in November. As luck would have it, I’d also been assigned to review this 180-gram, 12-LP, triple-gatefold set in Issue 368. Having spent the better part of the last few months listening to the Ortofon, I couldn’t think of a better cartridge to track the grooves of this reissue than the MC X40. For me, it’s the kind of serendipity that doesn’t come too often, but when it does, I’m grateful.

The MC X40 is a member of Ortofon’s recently released MC X line of moving-coil cartridges. Launched at High End Munich 2025, there are four models in the series, the entry-level X10 and X20, the mid-level X30, and the series flagship MC X40. Two key aspects set the X40 apart from its lower-cost siblings: a boron cantilever, known for its stiffness, lightness, and speed; and a sophisticated Nude Shibata stylus, a complex geometry that yields a larger groove contact area for added resolution. 

Initially, I thought back to the Ortofon Quintet Red and Black models that I reviewed a decade ago in Issue 244, assuming that MC X40 might be more than a little related, but I was quickly disabused of that notion. During an exchange with Ortofon’s U.S. Senior Product Specialist Louis Dorio, I learned the nitty gritty of its genesis. I was told (firmly): “The Xes are not evolved Quintets.” 

Dorio explained the backstory. When Ortofon first began shipping the Quintet Black, it did in fact sport a boron cantilever. This is the one I reviewed. However shortly thereafter, boron rods were in short supply, so Ortofon changed to sapphire and renamed the product the Quintet Black S. With the MC X40, boron has returned, bringing with it the benefits for which it is well known, primarily as a faster conductor of sound. Importantly, the Quintet Black had an output voltage of only 0.3mV, whereas the MC X40 output has been bumped up to 0.4mV. This is noteworthy because it adds a little more output for owners of phonostages that are gain limited to 60dB. A last point of contrast, the MC X series use high-purity silver coils, whereas the Quintet Black uses Aucurum—a specially developed alloy consisting of very pure copper and gold for high conductivity. Specifications don’t tell the whole story, but it’s also worth noting that the X40 improves slightly on the Quintet Black S in areas like channel separation and channel balance. 

Unique to MC X cartridges is its honeycomb-structured stainless-steel frame, produced using MIM (metal injection molding). This not only deals with unwanted resonances but also reduces the overall mass of the cartridge body and ensures mechanical stability.

Ortofon also re-engineered the magnetic system for maximum efficiency, using “a one-piece pole cylinder integrated into a rear magnet yoke.” The custom rubber dampers on the MC X series—in-house produced—are the core of the MC X Series’ mechanical damping system. The rubber dampers are essential for controlling the physical movement of the coils, maintaining stability, minimizing unwanted vibrations, and enabling precise coil motion. The goal is to reduce distortion and improve tracking and musical accuracy.

Setup was a walk in the park. With the MC X40 installed on my SME V (the recipient of a recent factory overhaul), I settled for a VTA just south of parallel to the platter on my Sota Cosmos—a slightly negative rake. Ortofon doesn’t specify a tracking force “range” for the X40 but suggests a tracking weight of a flat two grams and a recommended load resistance in the region of 50 ohms. And that’s what I set it at and over the course of the break-in period, I saw no reason to change either setting. Though I have plenty of available gain from the Parasound JC3+, the added output of the X40 should appeal to those with more basic phono preamps. 

Just as I was wrong in the assumption that MC X40 evolved from the Quintet Black. I was also wrong to assume they would automatically mirror each other’s sonic profile. Yes, in terms of tonal balance, they were similarly neutral. Nothing recessed in the mids or toppy in the treble. But straight out of the box, the X40 was a bit more midrange-forward—the more open and livelier of the two—and grew more effortless and airier as the octaves rose into the upper mids and lower treble. Bass response was another delight of the X40—not just extension but pitch reproduction too. A great example was from The Police’s Synchronicity album. During “Wrapped Around Your Finger,” Sting’s bass line penetrates the thick swirling ambience, sweeping through this cut like I was hearing it for the first time.

As I listened to the Neville Marriner-conducted Vivaldi Four Seasons (the British Argo pressing), strings were individually delineated and superbly layered on the stage. They were resolved and free of any veiling, as if an invisible air duster had blown away a fine layer of powder from the recording. The X40’s light touch with low-level information delicately captured every pluck from the plectrums of the accompanying harpsichord.

Its trackability was also superb, even on so-called “tough” recordings, like the deep dynamic bass on 45rpm dance tracks such as David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” or the harmonic complexities of choirs and choral groups. Even demanding direct-to-disc tracks like “Take the ‘A’ Train” from M&K Records For Duke couldn’t derail the X40. Channel separation was excellent. Dynamics and transient information were delivered with speed, a natural level of sustain, and spotless transparency. The sound didn’t register as overcooked or etchy in the slightest. 

A solo piano performance in a good acoustic venue imparts nearly everything I need to know about a component (or an audio system for that matter)—balance, dynamics, extension. For this I always listen to Nojima Plays Liszt, an astonishing and treasured 1986 recording from Reference Recordings (liner notes by TAS’s Robert E. Greene). Recorded in the Civic Auditorium in Oxnard, California, by Keith Johnson, it’s an artistic showcase of bravura playing filled with bloom, tonal contrasts, and harmonic and ambient treasures radiating from the concert grand courtesy of Nojima’s sensitive touch. It’s a performance that will push the capabilities of any good cartridge. The MC X40 passed with flying colors.

To grade transient response, a favorite go-to of mine is Harold Faberman’s All Star Percussion Ensemble. The scherzo of the Beethoven Ninth is a test for timbral clarity and transient and tracking agility that the scores of percussion instruments present. Don’t forget to check out the   eerie wind chimes during the Berlioz Symphonie Fantastique.

As I often do when evaluating analog equipment, I turned to a pair of vinyl favorites that feature vocals. Bill Henderson Live at the Times [Jazz Planet 45rpm], recorded in 1975 by Rod Nicas. The performance is oddly magnetic. Henderson’s crisp baritone is weighty and rich; his tempo is halting, as if he is savoring each syllable and phrase, slowing almost to a dead stop at moments but then gathering up the melody and moving forward I would guess there was no compression on this recording, just a straight microphone feed. It was up to Henderson to modulate his own volume and dynamics and pull back from the mic when necessary—an acquired skill if there ever was one. You can hear all this going on as if you were in the club just a few chairs from the piano. And Joni Mitchell’s classic album Blue still holds sonic surprises even after these many years. “A Case of You” for example explores every facet of the Appalachian dulcimer and of her playing—the fingered vibrato, the buzz of the drone strings. And then there’s Mitchell’s priceless vocal with its octave hopping elasticity that still leaves me short of breath. 

Finally, in preparation for the re-release of the Beatles Anthology, I dusted off my originals LPs to reacquaint myself with the material and the sonics (all 18 sides!). I was more than surprised at just how well these 30-year-old LPs still stacked up. The session tracks, short snippets, demos, and alternate takes sounded natural and remarkably present. But it was the simple voice/guitar/piano demo tracks that struck home—like Lennon’s unadorned guide vocal to “Yes It Is” or McCartney practicing sophisticated bass riffs to “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite” and his gentle vocal over piano to “The Fool on The Hill.” What was most striking was the time machine aspect of hearing the young band so naturally open, raw, and unselfconscious—just losing themselves in the work without pretense and without the intrusive presence of cameras. It provided a good workout for the MC X40. In its price segment, this cartridge essentially played error-free.

An observation: As I concluded my time with Ortofon’s MC X40, it occurred to me that the renaissance in LP playback is not just limited to cost-no-object turntables, tonearms, phono preamps, and, of course, cartridges. This is also a golden time for affordable high-quality analog. Cartridges, for instance. The wide variety and options to choose from in this segment is like nothing audiophiles have seen in 50 years. In summary, I couldn’t have been more impressed with the MC X40’s overall performance. Sonically, it didn’t put a foot wrong in any groove it was asked to track. 

One more thing. I don’t need to tell fellow audiophiles just how easy it is to throw money at upgrading an audio system. We’ve all done it. The trick, however, is not spending the money but spending it well. For a little more than a grand, I present to you the Ortofon MC X40. You’re welcome. 

Specs & Pricing

Output voltage: 0.4mV
Frequency response: (20Hz–20kHz) ±1dB
Internal impedance: 6 ohms
Cantilever material: Boron
Stylus type: Nude Shibata
Channel balance: 0.5dB
Channel separation: 26dB
Weight: 8.6g
Price: $1150

ORTOFON INC.
500 Executive Blvd Ste., 102
Ossining, NY 15062
(914) 762-8646
ortofon.us

Tags: VINYL ANALOG CARTRIDGE PHONO ORTOFON

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.

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