How Much Do You Love Your Magnepan LRS+ Speakers?

How Much Do You Love Your Magnepan LRS+ Speakers?

True stories are the unlikeliest. And this one starts with the fact that I ordered the original LRS almost on a whim, forgot about it while pursuing more likely paths to hifi nirvana, then was reminded of it when a very nice woman from Magnepan emailed me that I could upgrade to the LRS+ for a few $$ more. Why not? So I did and forgot about that too. Then my new speakers arrived, the real ones from Denmark with the large price tag and leading edge technology, and soon I was smiling in my chair: clearly I am a brilliant audiophile decision-maker. So I cancelled my order for LRS+ and the nice lady was very understanding and said she would take care of it (after all they have a waiting list that’s so long they’ve removed the LRS+ from their online product menu). But she didn’t or someone didn’t because a few months later I get a notice from UPS saying I’m about to receive a 49lb package from Magnepan. I get the box, a strapped cardboard guitar case on steroids with one end badly bashed and soaked. I let the nice lady know, send her photos of the no-doubt damaged speakers, and, of course, ask for a shipping label to return them. She’s aghast and apologetic. She says someone will contact me to make arrangements for return shipping and of course they’ll refund my card as soon as they get them back. Well, several days pass and I don’t get the label. I’m in the middle of a perplexing audition of a new amp that isn’t right, at least not for my Danish speakers, although it sounds fine and I can’t figure out why I don’t like it. For the first time in my brilliant audiophile career I’m stumped. If I just tell it like it is, it sounds plasticky and chunky: kind of like a very detailed cartoon of great sounds. But it’s not music and is the opposite of engaging. So I’m reluctantly packing up this ravely reviewed amp and think I should send the LRS+ back at the same time. But a small light goes off in my dim audiophile brain and I decide to look at a review or two of the LRS+ on You Tube just for grins. Well, an astute reviewer for Absolute Sound is flat out nuts for them. And this other guy with the wild shirts loves them too–he can’t get the smile off his face (Steve Guttenberg is great). And…ok, enough already, I open them up, find out they’re actually not damaged and it takes me longer to move my old speakers out of the way than it does to set up the LRS+. And away we go! Only not so fast, they don’t sound anywhere near as great as those guys were claiming and I have to do a little homework, like reading the manual from the manufacturer and listening to another You Tube video or two about set-up. They are placement persnickty and amplifier dependent, needing power, rather current, so I pull out the biggest beast I have, my Vinnie Rossi L2iSE, a beauty of an integrated (100Wpc into 8 ohms, 170Wpc into 4 ohms) and away we go part two! Nice. I mean a little surprisingly nice. I see what they mean about the mid-range, the naturalness of voice, the sense of the music being made in your room. My wife suddenly appears. “Wow, that sounds like Madeleine Peyroux is standing right there. I could hear it down the hall. What are those funny looking things anyway?” As I go through my rake-them-over-coals speaker audition playlist, I find myself tweaking a bunch of stuff: replacing the tweeter/attenuator jumper with the 1ohm resistor, placing diffuser panels on the wall behind the speakers, putting the tweeters on the outside of the speakers, bringing them as far out from the front wall as possible (just shy of 4’), moving them farther apart to 87” (farther than the manual suggested), getting the toe in right so the tweeter ribbons are just slightly further away than the mid range ribbons. Wow. Now things are crazy deep and wide and high and 3 dimensional and tuneful, just so damn accurately tuneful that I start scrambling around on the net trying to figure how much break-in these suckers really need (100-200 hrs). But truth be told, the VR integrated isn’t my favorite amp in the world. No, my favorite amp in the world (and I’ve been through a bunch, too many to willingly admit to right now), is this tiny thing known as the Enleum 23R, boasting all of 25 watts into 8 ohms and a solid 40 watts into 4 ohms. It drives my 89 db sensitive Danish speakers to the hilt and oh so beautifully. (So why was I auditioning another amp? Because I have serious flare ups of audio nervosa and I was suddenly sure I needed an amp with more power.) Anyway, again for grins, I put in the Enleum to drive the amp-humiliating Magnepans, sort of expecting it to start smoking with strain, only to…OMG…only to blow my mind. Everything came to life! Tonal colors, dynamics, soundstage, tight imaging (which the LRS+ are, according to some, not supposed to do). BIG, grab-you-by-the-collar-what-are-you-doing-here-punk sound. And the volume was only at 1pm (I had to go to 4pm on one laid-back symphony recording). And the bass–oh, I forgot to talk about the bass. Well, the LRS+ doesn’t have any. It needs a sub. And even though I’ve never been a sub person (hate the look of them), I have had a KEF KC62 (small and pretty) in and out of my system for awhile (though the Danish speakers don’t need them). When I added the KEF to the LRS+ it was a marriage made in heaven: very little effort to homogenize, everything fast and deep and tuneful, not even once making me wonder whether two would be even better than one (a lie). So where are we? We have a $6K amp driving a pair of $1K speakers with a $1.5K sub that is knocking the socks off of anything I’ve heard in my room and anything I’ve heard in the rooms of any of the audio dealers in my area that carry a bunch of stuff even more expensive than my Danish speakers. I mean, how good is it? I can’t really tell you definitively because the speakers aren’t broken in yet! Also I’m waiting for the super-duper upgrade Magna Risers (check back mid-’23). What I can tell you is:

1. I can’t stop listening; I don’t care what the music is
2. I could swear they are omni-directional
3. Madeleine is in the room as are James Taylor, Billie Eilish, etc.
4. I am waiting to come to my senses and say “Yeah, but,” and put the Danish speakers back in.
5. I don’t want no stinking return label from Magnepan. Which I told the very nice lady at Magnepan in person over the phone. She actually called me when I told her I had received another notice from UPS saying there was another 49lb package on its way from Magnepan. “We’re backed up with hundreds of orders for these speakers and we can’t stop sending them to someone who doesn’t want them.” “Wait,” I said, “that’s changed. I took them out of the box. They weren’t damaged. I plugged them in and I love them. I’m keeping them. I may even take the second pair if you tell me they work in surround sound.” The nice lady laughed, “I’m so glad you opened them and I’m so glad they’re not damaged. But more importantly I’m so glad to hear you’re human after all. Everyone loves the LRS+ speakers. That’s our problem.”

Everyone may love the LRS+ speakers. But do they unconditionally? Do they acknowledge the bass can be fixed with a sub, that the high end and mid range may be as good as anything they’ve ever heard? Do they admit to hearing things they’ve never heard before, to hearing a separation of instruments and real standing singers, an ambience and air, an aliveness to the music that is irresistibly compelling? Because if they don’t acknowledge all these things (and more) or if they waffle about how great the LRS+’s are for the money, I think they’re holding something back to save face or dignity (something I obviously haven’t done). Either that or maybe they already own Magnepans, LRS+’s bigger brothers that would dwarf my room like that tablet thing out of 2001: A Space Odyssey.