Metaxas Marquis headphone preamp Page 2
You'll probably only use the Marquis as a preamp to drive a secondary system – its sound is super quiet, specifically lean and detailed, which could prove a boon with a vintage valve power amp in need of tightening up, but the main constraint would be its minimalism: volume level and two inputs only.
Instead, let's concentrate on the headphone performance, which sounds far richer down below. With Mobile Fidelity's 3LP box set of Billy Joel's Greatest Hits Volume I & II [MFSL3-418], the bottom end in 'Just The Way You Are' sounded full and extended, such that it showed up the differences between the assorted headphones as much as it revealed itself to be 'bigger' sounding than the other headphone outputs I had.
'Piano Man', too, was a delight, and not just because of the instrument in the title. This unusual song, with its changes of mood and atmosphere, possesses both bombast and subtlety, and is – if you have a high tolerance for schmaltz – a convincing argument about how a hi-fi system deals with the conveying of emotion.
In The Small Hours
When Joel reaches the stage where 'The piano, it sounds like a carnival. And the microphone smells like a beer,' you feel the full essence of the wee hours in a bar. If you've never felt the alienation, desolation or loneliness of, say, the diners in Edward Hopper's 'Nighthawks', this will paint it inside your cranium – which may be a subtext, after all, for the choice of a skull as the carcass of a headphone amplifier. And that's both clever and devious.
Given the Marquis' way with detail, I turned to the 2017 remastering of The Beatles' Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band [Apple 4553420602557]. One of the critics' most oft-observed revelations was the elevation of Ringo Starr's drumming and Paul McCartney's bass playing to greater audible prominence – revealing both, via 'With A Little Help From My Friends', to be twenty-something wunderkinds (in case you needed telling). I already knew this to be reason enough to purchase the remasters from hearing it through speakers. The crispness and dryness of the former, especially the snare and cymbals, matched slickly with the fluidity of the latter, Macca's bass so sumptuous and 'virtuoso' that it makes a mockery of LPs by bass soloists. Everything was spaced just-so in one's head, and it proved revelatory even after digesting the sound via loudspeakers.
But it was 'Lucy In the Sky With Diamonds' that took my breath away. The stellar bass and drums continued in equal measure, but the upper frequencies were stretched by the delicate tingling of the harpsichord/vibraharp that opens the piece. 'Shimmer' is the only word I can think of to describe it.
Then there's 'When I'm Sixty-Four'. OK, so it's the 'lightest' number in this masterpiece, but it has particular resonance for this pensioner, who can no longer sing it without looking back. That said, the woodwinds, piano and vocals float in one's head, the bass and drums overlaid – yet everything is crystal clear, distinct, discernible. The overall feel is so coherent and so vivid that it sounded more like an all-new recording than even the initial session when the LP first arrived, which completely altered my impressions of a well-loved, intensely familiar favourite.
Out Of The Head
Going from recording to recording, one other surprising virtue manifested itself. Even when driving closed-back models, the Marquis proved particularly adept at going beyond the out-of-head placing at the extremities of the soundstage.
More telling were the results with 'narrow' recordings, i.e., stereo but not appearing much wider than mono. With Rusty Young's new solo CD, Waitin' For The Sun [Blue Élan Records BER1052], which fans will be pleased to know sounds just like his earlier work with Poco, its spread wasn't particularly wide. So I relaxed and focused on sound, not placement. I was rewarded with a sax solo in the middle of 'Heaven Tonight', sited dead centre and sounding as vibrant as the one in The Cardinals' mono 'The Door Is Still Open.' And that means chills down one's spine…
Hi-Fi News Verdict
Forgetting the shape, and dealing with just its performance, the Metaxas Marquis is a superior headphone amp with plenty of delicacy, power and grip. But there are far less expensive units that will drive headphones to optimum levels. Instead, you have to look at this as something alien to high-end audio: functional sculpture. You'd buy it because you want it – not because you need it. And I want it.