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Not. Our deck, arm and writer won’t have it that easy. It goes without saying that AMG’s Viella too exhibited a certain signature action one must first identify and then factor in. From the first needle drop I had the impression of dealing with an exceptionally quick deck. No, it spun precisely at 33.3 turns as I’d measured. Its very direct very immediate impulsiveness simply created a subjective sense of speed whose polar opposite would be gemütlich or cozy. Let’s cite an example.

With Blue Valentine Sarah Jane Morris has cut a superb live album at Ronnie Scott’s famous London club. The opener "Closest thing to heaven" shows a fleet driving rhythm that became instantly involving and wouldn’t let go until the final breath. The sharp nearly hyper-wiry string attacks of the title track’s guitar solo were more explosive than ever before. Impulse fidelity? You bet.
This also came off great with classical music. Take the first few bars of Rachmaninov’s Variations after a theme of Paganini with Artur Rubinstein on the piano. The solo instrument’s attacks had precision and authoritative vehemence. True, the same pure force also was on hand with my Horstmann & Petters’ high-mass Ulysses. The Viella simply released more energy from the fingers of the Polish pianist. Because the AMG arm/table combo didn’t attempt to hit me over the head with a hammer as it were, the fortissimo passages of this piece revealed a dynamic competence which seemed hard to trump.


Clearly Rachmaninov exploits high contrast to heighten the appeal of his composition. But the exemplary reading of the AMG was just as keen to reveal the microdynamic aspects of very feathery tender moments. Here a record spinner will only shine if it doesn’t inject mechanical noise into the signal path. The enormously calm black background against which the Viella cast even the wispiest of signals invited speculation that a brilliant very intelligently implemented platter bearing had joined forces with an equally brilliant stable and quiet motor drive. If one claims Zen-like non sound for any source, one must insure that it aces tonal balance. On that count I thought the Viella the most correct deck I’d yet lent ears to even in this elevated price class. The only minor proviso I might cite if pressed hard would be a minimally lean tendency. This simply didn’t bother me since I didn’t hear anything that even remotely felt too thin or wiry.

The upper end was fresh, expansive of colour and quite potent in energy. I encountered nothing disturbingly glassy or untoward as long as the cartridge or recording didn’t mandate it. The bass too conformed to straight-line ideals. No upper bass shenanigans to fake up additional output and reach in the low end. Au contraire, definition was top class and whenever vinyl delivers authentic low bass, the unsuspecting listener routinely feels pummeled in the gut.

Take the multiple assaults of Marcus Miller’s electric bass on the Miles Davis live album We want Miles. At appropriate SPL the infectious groove of these Jazz virtuosos transformed my humble digs into NYC’s Avery Fisher Hall. Gershwin’s classic "My man’s gone" song was expertly deconstructed in advanced Jazz manners whilst good ol’ Miles fired incendiary trumpet salvos at the audience. On side four’s closer "Kix" the high-carat band weaves a dense sound carpet out of diverse seemingly impromptu melodic and rhythmic ideas. Here less competent decks easily lose the plot. The AMG arm/table combo countered with resolution and airiness and maintained impeccable sorting over the complex stage action.

Classic Records’ 45 version of Harry Belafonte sings the Blues seduces with the protagonist’s then still fluid pipes. Here a pale blasé midrange rendition becomes as damaging as does an overly intense over-tinted reading. With the AMG young Harry shone. With such a well-balanced vocal range even a song like "God bless the child" comes across as emotionally touching rather than schmaltzy. It’s probably exactly what the mastering team envisioned when they cut 1958’s first lacquers (I own an original 1972 pressing).