Pas de Snake

Oh, dang. I just hate it when audiophile snake oil turns out to be useful lotion. High-end audio is pestered by so much crackpottery, so many stratospherically expensive magic bullets, so much plain old BS. But just because there's nothing to be gained by running a green pen around the edges of a CD (a musty and happily discredited bit of audiophoolery) it doesn't follow that every spooky little prejudice espoused by audiophiles is moonshine.

No more tiresome, thrashed-through and picked-over topic exists in audiophilia than the effect of cables. There are those who will insist that a coat hanger will pass current along just as well as some ritzy puppy that costs $8000 for 10 feet. Others will say that yes, there is a difference—but it becomes increasingly subtle as one climbs the price scale. At least that last is reflected in reality: there's a much bigger perceivable difference between stereos costing $500 and $5000 than there is between a $5000 stereo and a $50,000 one. The situation is a bit like cars: you go from el-cheapo rattletrap to a Honda Accord and you've made a gigantic leap upwards. But go from that Accord to a Mercedes Benz and the differences aren't anywhere near as dramatic, although they're most certainly there.

I am no golden-ear type. Musicians rarely are. We're just too busy listening to the content of the music to be all that bothered with trifling issues such as a 1.45 decibel blare at 1.54 kilohertz or a slight flattening of the soundstage when the speakers are toed in an extra 2 degrees. Still, I can appreciate good sound equipment, nor have I any truck with audio trailer trash. I can hear the difference between a hawk and a handsaw. I'm accustomed to hearing pretty darn good stuff. Concerning cables, however, I dwell solidly in the skeptical camp. Or at least I did.

Yesterday my spring cleaning took me into my home office where I performed a considerable shuffling about, dusting off, and general lightening up operation. In the process, I realized that the unsightly cables connecting my B&W 805D speakers to the Arcam integrated amp needed replacing. One of the cables was wantonly displaying nude wire through a missing patch of insulation and the other was disfigured by a blobby black tape-wrapped splice. Neither cable had been all that exalted to begin with, and in their dotage both had become quite the droopy old pair of sad sacks.

So I decided to replace them with new, decent-quality but non-exalted 16-gauge speaker wire. I took care assembling the cables, affixing high-quality banana plugs for the amplifier end and lugs on the speaker end. I got the whole shebang set up and gave it a listen.

To my dismay, my B&Ws had gone on a catastrophic crash diet. It was as though the entire bass range had been throttled back. They didn't sound like B&Ws any more. They were thin, parched, shadows of their curvaceous former selves. I doubled-checked the cables to make sure that I hadn't goofed up, but no. The cables were assembled and connected correctly. They just weren't doing as good a job as the old ones.

That's annoying. One doesn't choose B&W 805's out of a casual disregard for sound quality. 805Ds are indisputably classy speakers, bonafide musical instruments, plush and vivaciously expressive despite being "bookshelf" models that sit on stands. Anything that diminishes their considerable glory is a cause for concern. I was concerned.

Today I visited the audiophile retail universe and acquired AudioQuest cables, thick jobbers, well-insulated and made of altogether posh and pure copper. I assembled my cables using brand-new AudioQuest end pieces. I did a really good job. They look spiffy as hell.

And my 805s were back in business, full-bodied and rich and suave and just brimming over with all that bewitching Bowers & Wilkins voodoo. They sounded like themselves again, free of the sonic chastity belt had been clipped on to their underparts by the cheap cables.

Now, the AudioQuest cable isn't ridiculously expensive. A thirty-foot reel was well under $100. I spent about $120 all told, counting the high-quality end connectors and sales tax. The 16-gauge cable and connectors came in at about $40. Thus it was an $80 difference. But that $80 separated singing from straining.

The moral: yes, cables do make a difference. At least going from the equivalent of a itty-bitty super-economy car to a midrange Honda Accord. I'm still inclined to draw the line right about there: just as I haven't the slightest intention to pop for a Mercedes Benz, I will not be throwing away 8 grand on a stupid goddamn piece of wire. Cables may not be altogether snake oil, but neither am I altogether off my rocker. Moderation in all things, even audiophilia.

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