Back in the 1970s, I lived in Japan for a year, ostensibly to study Buddhism and the Japanese language; in reality, I was knocking around Kyoto as much as I pleased. I was living with my girlfriend in a small eight-mat room, watching kabuki plays at the Minami-za theater, reading poetry in coffee shops, and hanging out at a blues club on weekends.
After jumping around a few classical, Beatles, and jazz kissa (cafés dedicated to specific kinds of music), I gravitated to a place called Honnyarado on a street named Imadegawa near Doshisha University and Shōkoku-ji temple, where I was studying. Honnyarado was long and narrow, with tables, chairs, and a bench along one wood-paneled wall and a coffee bar and barstools along the other. There was also a small kitchen in the back where they made curries and simple noodle dishes. Behind the bar was a music station where the baristas cued up album after album and kept the sound going from late in the morning until late at night. As the place was owned by a hip Japanese poet who’d translated Allen Ginsberg and Bob Dylan into Japanese, Honnyarado boasted a serious collection of American and British rock, soul, blues, and folk music. I’d stay for hours, sipping acidic coffee, jotting in my notebook, and trying to look cool. Besides Dylan, I heard Joan Baez, the Stones, the Yardbirds, Cream, Marvin Gaye, and the Band there. The first time I heard the bump, jump, and hip-shaking groove of Stevie Wonder’s “Boogie On Reggae Woman” was at Honnyarado.
Aside from the album lineup and a nondescript turntable, the music station featured a distinctive amplifier with a faceplate of brushed aluminum enclosed in a light brown walnut case. On the faceplate was an attractive array of control knobs—eight in all—four arranged individually and four clustered together in a square. This was the Luxman SQ-38 vacuum tube amplifier, which I later learned was already an audiophile icon and a staple of jazz and rock cafés all over Japan. The sound was always great. The SQ-38’s sleek lines, classy wooden casing, and the muted shine of its metal facing have continued to gleam in my memory ever since. I’d been introduced to a distinctive design language and a signature sound.
Luxman, one of the world’s oldest consumer electronic companies, was founded in Osaka in 1925 and has a distinguished history of making attractive, high-quality audio equipment. By the 1930s, Luxman had created an electronic phonograph and released its own magnetic phono pickup. The company has been making tube amplifiers without interruption since WWII, focusing (according to its website) on sumptuous sound, meticulous engineering, and robust build quality. During the ’60s, while other Japanese electronics giants were busy producing mass-market gear and selling it around the globe, Luxman chose to focus exclusively on high-end products for the Japanese audio market, only expanding into the North American market in 1972. Many of the engineers who got their start at Luxman went on to create legendary equipment of their own under brands such as E.A.R., Air Tight, Leben, and 47 Laboratory. Throughout its uninterrupted history as a maker of high-end audio equipment, Luxman has maintained both its superior standards and the design language I first encountered in Kyoto.
Recently, Luxman released the PD-151 MARK II integrated turntable ($6490 including dust cover, all prices in USD), the subject of this review. The PD-151 MARK II bears a striking resemblance to Luxman’s first turntable, the PD-121, a direct-drive antecedent that debuted in 1975. However, Luxman claims that the new ’table’s engineering and production values are even more precise than its ancestor’s.
The PD-151 MARK II is a gorgeous piece of equipment. From the hairline finish of its aluminum deck to the clean look of the control knobs on its black textured-steel front panel and the svelte curve of its 9″ tonearm, the unit gleams with refinement. Luxman uses real acrylic for the optional dust cover, which is cam- and spring-hinged, with front and back edges that bend smoothly like a finely crafted sword, reflecting a continuous line of luminance whenever light strikes them. The feel of each of its components—deck, chassis and front panel, tonearm, cueing lever, all of it—is lavish in the extreme. The turntable’s operation is so sensible it seems as though a special master has overseen all aspects of its creation.
“Luxman makes culturally relevant and significant industrial products, thoughtfully designed to serve music,” said president Tatsuya Sueyoshi in a recent internal memo. Seeing to this claim doesn’t fall solely to one individual but to a team of people. Just as Berry Gordy habitually asked his Motown production staff, “Is it a hit?” about any new 45 rpm record, chief engineer Nagatsuma-san asks his design team, “Is it a Luxman?” And just as there was a “Motown sound” back in the day, there is most definitely a “Lux-tone” that characterizes not only the sound but also the visual presentation.
Fully assembled with the dust cover in place, the PD-151 MARK II measures 18″W × 15″D × 7.5″H. Without the cover, it stands 5.5″ high from base to platter. Viewed from above, from left to right along its deck, are the pulley for the belt drive, a fairly wide rubber drive belt that loops around the perimeter of the spectacularly machined aluminum platter—which is covered with a compliant mat—and the tonearm with its detachable headshell, collar, arm lift, antiskate adjustment knob, and counterweight.
Along the front panel, again from left to right, are three control knobs—a smaller one labeled “Operation” with an LED that illuminates when the unit is powered up, a larger Start/Stop button, and a speed-selection knob with settings for 33 1/3, 45, and 78 rpm. Toward the middle of the panel are speed-deviation LEDs that turn green when the platter reaches the proper speed. Flashing green means slow; flashing blue means fast. Each time I changed speeds (alternating only between 33 1/3 and 45 rpm during the review period), it took mere seconds for the flashing green light to turn solid green. Although rotation speeds are adjusted before shipment, fine user adjustments are possible with the supplied flat-bladed screwdriver.
On the underside of the deck are four triple-layered isolation footers, the phono cable, and a thoughtfully designed cable holder that secures the cable so it runs flat against the base. Finally, the back panel sports the AC inlet, a serial-number badge, and the two receiver mounts for the dust cover. The dust cover mounts on springy hinges at the back that provide moderate, four-way give each time you raise or lower it. Every dang thing is thought through in terms of function, aesthetics, and ergonomic ease.
Background and development
In a long phone conversation, John Pravel, vice-president of sales for Luxman America, related some fascinating details about the development of the PD-151 MARK II. First off, while earlier Luxman products were prototyped in clay back in the 1970s, Luxman modeled its new PD-151 MARK II in 3D CAD and used CNC machines in production to create a similar fit ’n’ finish, but with tighter tolerances and better coordination over all its internal and external parts. And, whereas the old ’70s ’table was a direct-drive design, the new one is belt-driven. If properly executed, Pravel claimed a belt drive can replicate the authoritative sound of a direct drive. “A direct drive puts the record directly on top of the motor,” he added, “and creates inherent noise situations to solve.”
Motors are noisy, not only on direct-drive ’tables but on belt-driven designs as well. The analog chain can pick up this noise and pass it along as distortion, thus affecting the clarity of sound. To address this problem, Luxman chose a special high-torque, PID-controlled, brushless DC motor with a unique sine-wave, pulse-width-modulation power supply. The motor is a high-precision, ultra-quiet unit derived from motors used in medical imaging devices. In addition, it employs a feedback loop as opposed to the usual quartz clock to control speed. Luxman describes the functions of its Proportional-Integral-Differential (PID) controller as proportional (which means quick achievement of target speed), integral (which means fast correction of minor errors), and differential (which means control over rapid fluctuations). A multi-conductor ribbon connects a sophisticated circuit board within the motor to the power supply to allow manual pitch adjustment of ±6%. The wide belt ensures a quick, constant drive that doesn’t vary with load, which makes for a very stable speed of rotation.
To improve quietness, Luxman went to work on the platter and bearing mechanism. The 4kg platter is made from a solid billet of aluminum that is CNC-machined to a dead-flat, highly precise diamond-cut finish. Constructed from stainless steel and 16mm in diameter, the spindle fits perfectly onto the bearing at its bottom so there’s no wobble, warpage, or instability while it spins. A substantial brass-alloy sleeve surrounds the bearing spindle and ball, which together rest on a bottom thrust plate lubricated with PEEK polymer. The brass sleeve is micro-finished to retain oil on its surface over time. The oil itself is not synthetic but petroleum-based, infused with molybdenum to guard against wear and improve viscosity. Under a microscope, this substance looks like thousands of tiny ball bearings. What’s more, the oil itself doesn’t age, as molybdenum is extremely durable. “The steel, brass alloy, and aluminum components of Luxman’s turntable chassis impart a solidity that ’tables partly constructed of MDF cannot approach,” Pravel said. “Together, these make for a highly rigid, well-damped, and precise structure.”
Three other design choices are said to affect the solidity and quietness of the PD-151 MARK II. Luxman uses an underslung mounting approach to hang their heavy components onto the highly rigid, 10mm-thick aluminum top plate of the chassis. What’s more, to guard against resonance, the motor and power supply are buffered against the plate with grommets made of the same compliant material used in the isolation feet. Offering 5mm of height adjustment, these four isolation feet are constructed of a tri-partite sandwich of compliant material surrounding a piece of iron. The iron is of a kind that, if cut open, displays a demonstrable, graduated difference in density from top to bottom. Made by the TAOC Company in Japan, it’s slightly porous; it’s used in TAOC’s line of high-carbon, cast-iron component racks. The compliant material is custom-made by a Japanese chemical company and is also used for the platter mat, yet another instance of effective damping within the ’table.
The LTA-309 tonearm, produced in design consultation with Japan’s Sound of Audio Engineering Company (SAEC), is a static-balance type with a knife-edge vertical bearing. Made from machined aluminum, it was chosen to complement the clean lines and sound qualities of the ’table itself. SAEC was founded in the 1970s with the goal of improving on the design of a legendary knife-edge-bearing tonearm, the SME 3009. While the SME arm emphasized trackability, good performance with low stylus pressures, and low mass with a minimum of distortion, SAEC took a different path, designing its arm around the simplicity of a knife-edge bearing but with medium to high mass in order to better complement the larger MC cartridges that had become popular in Japan. Its pipe is precision-machined and aluminum-mounted to ensure rigidity while suppressing unwanted vibration. Luxman’s collaboration with SAEC resulted in an arm with a slight S-curve that fit within the specifications of the Jelco tonearm originally paired with the PD-151A. It had to be exactly 229mm (9″) long to achieve the same geometry of movement as the Jelco’s. It comes fitted with the Luxman H4 bayonet-mount headshell, a die-cast machined aluminum arm lifter that is silicone-damped (it did not wobble or loosen during the review period), an antiskate adjustment via a finely incised metal knob, and an attractive, calibrated counterweight with a range of 0–4g vertical tracking force. The arm is height-adjustable and comes attached to the ’table with a five-pin DIN output cable. There is no removable armboard, so no interchange of arms is possible with the PD-151 MARK II.
Assembly and installation
Just before Christmas 2022, two boxes from Luxman America were delivered to my door: a larger, heavier one containing the turntable assembly and tonearm and a smaller, lighter one containing the dust cover and hinges. Each shipping box came with easy-to-follow assembly instructions. And I must say, Luxman is an exceedingly assiduous shipper, as both the turntable and dust-cover assemblies came triple boxed, with their various pieces stowed in yet smaller boxes, separated by cardboard partitions, pouched, or covered with a polyester tissue cap!
Besides the main chassis, platter, and tonearm pipe, the turntable came with an owner’s manual, a safety cautions sheet, and a number of accessories: platter mat, EP adapter ring (Luxman thinks of everything!), rubber belt, counterweight, adjustment screwdriver, two adjustment wrenches for tonearm height, headshell, stock power cable, and a phono cable with ground wires. Also included were two platter-mount handles that screw into the platter to help you lift and lower it onto the spindle—I assume this increases the precision of installation while preventing possible damage to the platter, bearing, and top plate. It also prevents fingerprints from marring the mirror finish of the aluminum platter.
Following the six guided and diagrammed steps, assembling the turntable took less than 20 minutes. Platter mounting was a distinct pleasure; I began by first screwing the platter mount handles into two machined, countersunk holes within the circumference of the platter. From there, it was an easy matter to lift this beautiful piece of machined aluminum over to the chassis and carefully bring it to rest over the spindle. Wrapping the belt over the motor pulley and platter flange was, ahem, a cinch. The counterweight snapped easily into the back of the tonearm with an audible click and mounting the cartridge to the headshell was as normal. I had previously unmounted my ZYX Ultimate 4D cartridge from my reference Helius Phaedra arm and had it ready to install.
Mounting the tonearm was also quick, involving only five installation and adjustment steps. Total time: 30 minutes. First, I settled the height, calibrating it so a record could be parallel to the tonearm pipe. The tonearm could be moved vertically after loosening an adjustment screw at the base of the arm with one of the provided wrenches. For the arm lifter, I followed much the same procedure, loosening the adjustment screw and eyeballing its raised height at 5 to 10mm above an LP. I had to be sure to support the whole arm with my hand so it wouldn’t drop while the screw was loosened. Then I just tightened it up again. I had to lower the arm to make sure the stylus made contact with the record before I re-tightened the adjustment screw. To adjust horizontal balance, I took the arm out of its rest and set the antiskate to zero. Then I rotated the counterweight to fine-tune the horizontal balance. Setting the vertical tracking force also went smoothly: I used my Winds Pressure Gauge and simply rotated the calibrated counterweight to the optimum force (1.8g). I finished by rotating the antiskating adjustment knob so it was compatible with stylus pressure.
Assembly and installation of the optional dust cover was also straightforward. I first removed the acrylic cover from its box, unsheathed it from its polyester “shower cap,” and set it aside. Turning to the chassis, I unscrewed eight screws on the brackets at the back, positioned two hinge holders onto the brackets, and screwed them in. Then, picking up the dust cover, I loosened the screws on its attached hinges, fit them within the hinge holders on the back of the turntable, and tightened them up. This took about ten minutes.
Everything was laid out in perfect sequence and without any gaps in the instructions. Hookups to AC (I used the stock power cable) and my phono stage came last and went normally. All told, assembly and installation took only an hour. YMMV. I placed the entire unit on the top of my five-shelf Salamander rack, just above the Zanden 120 phono stage.
From the first records I spun, I was struck by the PD-151 MARK II’s unusual solidity of sound, precision in rendering notes, and accuracy of textural qualities on rock, jazz, and vocal music. There was a sonic density to everything I heard—saturated textures, speed stability, and a propulsive drive—that had me sitting up in my chair. I found myself asking, “What is up with this ’table?” Its sonic character reminded me more of an excellent direct-drive design than a belt-driven one.
On Cream’s Disraeli Gears (ATCO 33–232), Eric Clapton’s virtuosic electric guitar leads, Ginger Baker’s propulsive drumming, and Jack Bruce’s agile bass sounded thrilling all the way through. The old hits “Strange Brew” and “Sunshine of Your Love” sounded as astonishing as ever, but “Dance the Night Away,” a track I’d always considered a B-side throwaway, transfixed me with its psychedelic field of sound. Clapton’s guitar chimed like a celeste, while Bruce played droning double octaves on the bass, and Baker’s drums pounded a relentless beat, interspersed with some syncopated tomming and tasty cap and crash work on cymbals. When Clapton played ominously ascending chords that lead to dervish-like dithering on his strings that culminated in a crescendo, he and Bruce harmonized on vocals like melodious banshees on the tune’s chorus. Throughout, the Luxman ’table maintained a strong grip on both the intricate instrumental patterns and the surreal drive of this song, producing punch, solid timing, and stable instrumental and vocal images. The trio’s music saturated my listening room with its spooky, acid-inspired whirl of sound.
The songs “Omaha” and “Round Here” from Counting Crows’ August and Everything After (Geffen Records B0025531-01) also made for a big wallop of sound, with beautiful quavering vocals by lead singer Adam Duritz. The band’s catchy beats, driven by a thick, explosive electric bass and big snare thwacks, were punctuated by crunchy hi-hat work, and a nice, thunking kick drum. The rhythm guitar rang with a touch of pleasing and intentional distortion, and the whole ensemble created a gorgeous momentum, heavy impacts, and a brocade of instrumental textures during crescendos. On both tracks, Duritz’s characteristic arcing, plaintive wails, backed by an airy organ and backup vocals, contributed to the intricate weave of the music.
Sting’s distinctive, airy tenor came through beautifully on “If I Ever Lose My Faith in You” from Ten Summoner’s Tales (A&M 0731454007511). It rose high above the sensuous sounds of his band like foamy waves crashing on a seawall. The rhythm section was explosive, bass and kickdrum impacts thumping pleasantly against my temples, contributing to a wall of sound that was articulate rather than opaque, textured, deep, and populated with complementary timbres of harmonica, synthesizer, and appealingly firm snare strikes. Guitar work was threaded through all of these, helping to create a tonally saturated and captivatingly rhythmic presentation.
Female vocals were another strength of the PD-151 MARK II. In The Marriage of Figaro: Highlights (Angel S 35640), Elizabeth Schwarzkopf sang the countess’s Act II aria “Porgi amor” in rich, lavish notes, held together with legato reminiscent of bel canto style. There was a tinge of lament befitting Schwarzkopf’s character, who has been abandoned by her philandering husband and left alone in her chambers. Her shimmering top notes were a sublime contrast to the Philharmonia Orchestra’s sumptuous accompaniment. The voice of jazz singer Keely Smith came through lightly and airily on “I Can’t Get Started” from the appropriately titled Politely! (Capitol ST 1073). Her bell-like notes alternated with a graceful vibrato as she maneuvered through the serpentine melody with tasteful syncopations. Played on the Luxman, the strikingly different emotional qualities of these two vocal performances came through perfectly.
On Chopin’s Nocturnes, Volume 1 (Connoisseur Society CS-1065), pianist Ivan Moravec delivers pure, independent notes that nonetheless seemed linked together with legato, creating prolonged cascades of sound with exquisitely lingering tails. Yet attacks could be crisp, forte passages often sudden, and arpeggiated trillings achingly slow in decay. At times, there were bright and delicately shimmering melodies played over languorous undercurrents of chords, achieving a fairytale quality. At others, the music loomed gigantically in my room, as if my front wall and ceiling were the piano’s soundboard. But never were there wonky notes, no blurring or klaxon effects indicating inconsistent speed and problems with timing in the motor or a lag in the spin of the Luxman platter. Never was there any unsteadiness compromising the precise sound of Moravec’s piano.
Soundstaging and presentation of varied instruments within it were excellent. On the title track of Sonny Clark’s Cool Struttin’ (Blue Note ST-81588), there was great left-to-right spread, extending 4′ outside the edges of my Ascendo M speakers; depth was 3′ or more. Centerfill was dominated by Clark’s piano projecting forward from the soundfield with deft, soft paws of notes reaching into my listening room. Aural images of Art Farmer’s trumpet, Jackie McLean’s alto sax, and Paul Chambers’s double bass were solid and stable; and Philly Joe Jones’s drum kit was spread out only a little.
The soundfield on Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young’s “Carry On” from Déjà Vu (Atlantic SD 7200) was even richer. Stills’s chunky rhythm guitar was clearly rendered on the left, while Crosby and Nash harmonized in the center, and Young’s wah-wah lead guitar was at the right. Sounds were tactile, locations pinpoint, images holographic and stable. Drums and a screechy organ were at the center rear, while a cowbell moved further forward in the mix.
Even more startling was the layering and clarity of the Toshiko Akiyoshi-Lew Tabackin Big Band’s 16 instruments from Kogun (RCA AFL1-3019). On “Elegy,” timbral details rose out of the mix clearly, without being smeared. The individual textures of tenor sax, trombone, baritone sax, and trumpet came through with their own sonic images and individual characters of sound. Everything was punchy, only at times exaggerated, but never smeared. The PD-151 MARK II showcased sophistication, power, and refinement.
The Luxman ’table performed wondrously with most orchestral music, rendering languorous, throbbing strings and brass fanfare colors with ease in Igor Stravinsky’s Le Sacre du Printemps as performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by Georg Solti (Speakers Corner SXL 6691). The textures and dynamics of the piquant oboe, ominous double basses, melodious flutes, and macabre-sounding violins and violas came through beautifully, building to tremendously powerful crescendos. Cutting across the murky swellings of the cellos during the first part, “Adoration of the Earth,” sudden shrieks from a piccolo and thundering cracks from a bass drum caused me to sit up in my listening chair.
But I felt something was off with “Vysehrad,” the second piece in Má Vlast, Bedřich Smetana’s great cycle of six symphonic tone poems, performed on a 2016 direct-to-disc recording by the Bamberger Symphoniker under Jakub Hrůša (Accentus Music ACC 40482). Although string pulsings were lavish and usually had a natural quality to them, the orchestra could sound a bit edgy in triple-forte passages. Triumphant crescendos came off as a touch stiff, and violins were glossy in the upper frequencies. The great Czech nationalistic composition sounded best in its quieter passages, the midrange sweet and mellow, and the trumpets agile. A harp provided gorgeous lyric touches, and the orchestral sections were easy to differentiate.
One of my two reference analog rigs consists of the Helius Designs Viridia turntable ($7195 MSRP) paired with the Helius Phaedra tonearm ($6995), both made in England. These were created by a single individual—physicist Geoffrey Owen—in his own small design shop. Together, and without a dust cover, this combination costs $14,190—more than double the price of the PD-151 MARK II with its arm. The drone-shaped Helius Viridia is also a suspended ’table, while the Luxman is not. What’s more, the Viridia weighs half as much as the PD-151 MARK II. These make for big differences in cost, mass, and basic approach, but it’s what I had for this comparison.
Another big mechanical factor: the Luxman not only looks stunning, it’s also a set-and-forget design. Perhaps more loosely constructed, the Virdia and Phaedra need periodic adjustments. The PD-151 MARK II needed no adjustment after installation. The arm maintained its tracking force setting throughout the review period and the motor maintained its set speeds precisely. No screw or knob ever needed attention or re-adjustment.
Overall, the Helius rig made for a smoother, airier, but less punchy sound. Like the Luxman unit, the Helius produced fine dynamic and timbral contrasts, but it didn’t have the strong drive the Luxman had. On combo jazz records like Sonny Clark’s Cool Struttin’, the English ’table and arm sounded much like the Luxman, but on big band jazz like the Akiyoshi-Tabackin ensemble, the Helius was less thrilling. Brass and reeds were mellower and less penetrating, images less sharply defined. The English rig did produce more depth and longer decays. On rock, the two setups were comparable on vocals and most instrumental sounds, though I thought the Luxman had more sparkle and snap, producing tighter drumming that was more focused and less diffuse than the Helius. Yet, on “Carry On” by CSN&Y, the Helious rig had a big, bloomy vocal presentation and killer electric and acoustic guitar tones that made for a quality you could call “symphonic rock.” Operatic vocals were a touch lovelier with the Helius, with exquisite shadings and finely nuanced shifts of tone in Elizabeth Schwarzkopf’s aria from Figaro. Keely Smith’s jazz vocals sounded clearer and more natural on the Helius, but Sting’s vocals were a toss-up. While the Luxman was firmer and more percussive on Ivan Moravec’s Chopin recording, with faster starts and stops, the Helius produced richer harmonics and a more fluid legato with longer decays.
On orchestral music, the Helius rig was clearly better, perhaps because it is a suspended design. Smetana’s “Vysehrad” from Má Vlast sounded mellower and sweeter via the Helius, with great instrumental colors and no hint of hardness in orchestral tutti. It excelled in scaling, layering, and finesse in dynamic shifts, producing a more complete and natural presentation than the PD-151 MARK II. But the Luxman sounded firmer, with quicker timing, while the Helius was rich and sonorous, more easeful, with a somewhat more articulate weave to its presentation.
To risk an analogy, the Helius sounded tubelike whereas the Luxman had an advanced solid-state quality. To risk another, the Helius is like a vintage British sports car that needs to be kept tuned and tightened, while the Luxman is a Lexus-like luxury vehicle requiring precious little maintenance to keep it running smoothly.
Luxman has created a seriously gorgeous and musically satisfying turntable and arm combination in the PD-151 MARK II. It would look beautiful atop anyone’s audio rack in addition to bringing its owner a wealth of audio pleasure. I was deeply impressed with its sonic density, thrilling dynamic shifts, saturated tones, and realistic instrumental textures. Its superior speed stability, firmness of register, and rock-stable imagery made me think it performed more like a direct-drive ’table than the belt-driven unit it is. In my listening, the PD-151 MARK II possessed the best attributes of both approaches and precious few of their respective drawbacks. It made good records sound great, fair records sound good, and stellar ones sound out of this world. Though its performance fell a smidge short on large-scale orchestral pieces, I believe its stellar attributes in overall sonic presentation far outweighed this concern.
In terms of value for dollar, superior sound, looks that bring a sparkle to your eyes, and sheer ease and assured repeatability of operation, I can’t think of a better analog rig than the Luxman ’table and tonearm. If you’re in the market for a fantastic one-and-done analog rig, you can’t go wrong with the Luxman PD-151 MARK II. I urge you to give it a spin. It could boogie you mad with excitement.
. . . Garrett Hongo
- Analog sources: Helius Designs Viridia turntable and Phaedra arm, ZYX Ultimate 4D cartridge (0.24mV).
- Preamplifier: Zanden Audio Systems Model 3100.
- Phono stage: Zanden Audio Systems Model 120.
- Power amplifier: Zanden Audio Systems Model 8120.
- Speakers: Ascendo System M.
- Power cords: Audience frontRow powerChord HP and MP, Audience powerChord SE LP, Zanden Audio Systems power cord.
- Interconnects: Audience frontRow (unbalanced), Zanden (balanced).
- Phono interconnect: Verbatim Cable.
- Speaker cables and jumpers: Zanden Audio Systems speaker cables, Synergistic Research Galileo Universal Speaker Cells with Foundation jumpers.
- Power conditioner: Audience aR6-T4 with Audience frontRow powerChord.
- Record cleaner: Loricraft PRC4.
- Accessories: Salamander Designs A5/W audio rack, Townshend Audio Seismic Platform, edenSound FatBoy dampers, HRS damping plates, fo.Q Modrate HEM-25B and HEM-25S Pure Note Insulators, ASC SoundPanels, Zanden Audio Systems AT-1 Acoustic Tubes and AP-1 Acoustic Panels, GIK Acoustics 4A Alpha Pro Series Bass Trap Diffusors/Absorbers, Winds ALM-01 Arm Load Meter, Audio Intelligent Vinyl Solutions Premium One-Step Formula No. 6, Mobile Fidelity GeoDisc and Helius Phaedra cartridge alignment tools, Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab record cleaning brush, AudioQuest anti-static record brush, Furutech GTX-D NCF(R) AC duplex receptacles, Oyaide R1 AC duplex receptacles.
Luxman PD-151 MARK II turntable (with tonearm)
Price: $6490 (with dust cover).
Warranty: three years, parts and labor.
Luxman America Inc.
Phone: +1 (518) 261 6464