Music-Making Machines

As with the Nait 5i, prices on the separates are highly reasonable— $1550 for the NAC122x, $1750 for the NAP150x. This is even more remarkable considering that the dollar continues to be smacked around by the British pound. “That’s been another huge challenge,” Koster commented, “but we’ve worked closely with Naim U.K. to keep things reasonably in line.”

As is the case with most audio companies, Naim could be said to have a “house” sound. Although the 122x and 150x continued to improve after several days of “burn-in,” Naim’s traditional speed, rhythmic and dynamic precision, neutral (if slightly cool) tonal balance, and very low noise floor were evident from the get-go.

This struck me while playing the latest from the extraordinarily prolific tenor saxophonist David Murray, Sacred Ground [Justin Time]. During “Transition,” Murray’s Black Saint Quartet’s rhythm section sets up an intricately woven pattern of shifting polyrhythms over which Murray lays a flurry of runs that, despite the musical risk-taking of all involved, comes across with such precision that it conjured images of a master surfer effortlessly gliding across massive waves. But this accuracy of timing, lack of artifice, and musical communication are not the only areas in which the Naim gear excels. It can also recreate a broad and fairly deep soundstage with supremely tight focus, as I heard with the Rostropovich recording of Henri Dutilleux’s Cello Concerto [EMI]. And during the brief passages for unaccompanied cello, the 122x and 150x showed impressive dynamic range, from the many shades of Rostropovich’s instrument to the swelling forces of the Orchestre de Paris.

Listening to a trio of very different vocalists revealed the Naim’s purity of midrange and dynamic nuance. Teresa Stratas’ Stratas Sing Weill [Nonesuch] underscored this soprano’s particularly effective way with Weill’s songs—her elliptical phrasing (knowing, brash, but sad), clipped consonants, and swooping high notes; Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau’s Songs of the New Vienna School [DG] brought forth the great baritone’s pure, golden, ringing tone; and Bob Dylan’s almost criminally neglected World Gone Wrong [Columbia] highlighted that famously nasal drawl, his remarkable ability to shape a phrase, as well as his surprisingly nimble acoustic guitar picking.

For a change of pace I lowered my stylus into the grooves of Nirvana’s In Utero [Geffen]. Like I said before, the NAP150x seems much stronger than its 50W rating. And here, played at the levels I’m comfortable with—meaning pretty loud—the 150x held its composure throughout the band’s distortiondrenched guitar chords, brutal woodchop drumming, three-note bass throbs, and vocal-cord-shredding shrieks.

And as far as I’m concerned, upgrading to the FLATCAP2x is the proverbial nobrainer. Whether you purchase it initially or as the budget allows what you’ll get is a feeling of greater weight and solidity, a somewhat meatier presentation, greater dynamic ease, and some subtle and notso- subtle improvements to everything I’ve described so far.

So what doesn’t the NAC122x and NAP 150x deliver? For starters, I would say a bit of warmth and body. I don’t mean the kind added by some tube gear but the kind we hear in life, the kind that makes, say, the body of Rostropovich’s cello growl or an orchestra fully bloom. Which means there also isn’t quite the degree of air or ambience one hears from top-tier separates. But then, that’s not what we’re dealing with here.
 

Conclusion

And that’s when I need to remind myself that there are plenty of integrated amplifiers on the market that cost a lot more than these Naim separates do (including the company’s just released $4950 SUPERNAIT). And that my reference electronics over the past year or so from MBL and Artemis Labs cost many times what these Naim items do. And that, come to think of it, I haven’t heard any separate preamp and amp combos in this range—or in any at all, for that matter—that are “perfect.” And that, finally, the NAC122x and NAP150x do a great job at what they were designed to do, which is to let us forget about the gear and become involved with the music.