McIntosh MC275 Series IV Stereo Amp and Quad II Classic Monoblock Amp

Vintage retro-classics from McIntosh and Quad

Our age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers.” So wrote Emerson in his seminal essay “Nature,” perhaps the most famous complaint in American literature. (I wonder what he would have made of audiophiles?) Here we live in an age when distortion, dynamic range, noise levels, and uninterrupted recording times—to name only four areas indisputably superior to anything 40 years ago—have reached a state-of-the-art that great recording musicians of the past would have killed for, while audiophiles, like so many Miniver Cheevys, sometimes appear to want nothing more than a return to that very past. There’s even been a recent resurgence of enthusiasm for mono. What’s next? 78s? Wax cylinders?

These thoughts were prompted by the appearance of two vintage amplifiers from manufacturers that helped make high-end audio a consumer reality: McIntosh in the States, and Quad in England. Over a year ago, the former reintroduced its MC275 all-tube stereo amplifier, a legendary 1961 design by Sidney Corderman. Quad recently reintroduced the Quad II monoblock, calling it the Quad II Classic, presumably to distinguish it from the II-forty, a higher- powered spinoff from the II (reviewed in Issue 135). Dating from 1953, the II was Peter Walker’s first domestic amplifier and put his company on the map.

What explains the near-simultaneous appearance of two such retro products? It’s the market, stupid. Both amplifiers are coveted on the secondhand circuit, so why not cater to the demand? According to Ron Cornelius, McIntosh’s Product Manager, the new MC275 is so successful that there are quarters when it is the company’s highest- selling product. It’s hard to imagine the Classic not following suit, especially in the U.K. and Far East, where this amp, no less than the MC275, is the stuff of legend.

The MC275 arrived first. “Don’t even bother to break it in,” Cornelius told me, “just hook it up and start listening.” I did, and was immediately rewarded with some of the most natural musical sounds I’ve heard from my Quad 988 electrostatics. Given comparable source material, the reproduction is as free from electronic artifacts— particularly edge and glare—as any I’ve heard, with tonal neutrality and an absence of identifying characteristics that made it hard for me to believe I was listening to electronic reproduction.

Having just read Kevin Bazzana’s superb Glenn Gould biography, I’ve been on a Gould kick. I started off with his recording of Beethoven’s first sonata. Typical Gould sound: close-up, dry, smallscaled, percussive, precise to a “T,” but in no way hard or abrasive. And there is the ubiquitous vocal obbligato, a valuable tool when it comes to assessing resolution. An accurate component will let you hear the pianist’s humming and wordless vocalizing; if they’re too present, detail is being emphasized in the wrong way. The MC275/988 combination gets it as right as I’ve heard.

Turn to Sony’s unedited release of Vladimir Horowitz’s 1965 return to the concert stage and you have a completely different piano sound: massive, explosively dynamic, with a rainbow of colors splashed all over the walls of Carnegie Hall. The engineers miked this rather closely, so there is a sense of the pianist’s Steinway sounding almost too big for the venue.

To a person, an informal group of listeners found this amplifier among the most attractive they’d ever heard. But the MC275 doesn’t get its attractiveness by coloring or otherwise catering to this or that taste. About the most we could come up with in the way of specific characteristics is that, like all tube units, this amp is a little dark way up high and lacks the last iota of transparency of the very best solid-state units. Mind you, in calling attention to this, I’m splitting the thinnest of hairs, as even these characteristics are mostly noticeable in direct A/B comparisons and only if you care to concentrate on them.

When it comes to large-scale material, the 275 becomes the theoretical window on the concert hall. Lately, I’ve also been on a Klemperer kick. Recorded by EMI in Kingsway Hall with the New Philharmonia, his last set of Beethoven symphonies present a remarkably persuasive picture of an orchestra in a big hall, dovetailing depth and panorama with a craftsman’s precision. The MC275 has a difficult-to-define sense of solidity and roundedness, voices and instruments emerging with uncommonly convincing texture and harmonic integrity. Like the company’s MC402 amplifier (my current reference), it perfectly mediates detail and warmth. The midrange is in the finest McIntosh tradition, and its liveliness doesn’t come at the expense of bogus projection or sloping highs and wooly lows. When called for, bass is detailed yet strong (though without noticeable “slam”). Every note from Ray Brown’s bass on Soular Energy [Groove Note SACD] is audible as a distinct pitch, yet there’s no lack of warmth, dimensionality, or naturalness.