Note: All listening was done through foobar2000 on Windows 10 routed through an iBasso DX200 (Amp 1) functioning as a USB DAC.

Presentation:

The Valkyrie's signature is subtly but distinctly V-shaped (V for Valkyrie, obviously). The bass and treble are forward of the mids, but they don't drown them out. The tonality leans towards neutral rather than natural, but (with a few exceptions) there's palpable texture throughout the presentation. However, this seems to come at the expense of apparent detail and coherence: the Valkyrie can sometimes lose focus as more and more instruments are added to a mix, and the bass, mid, and treble each have a very distinct reproduction, which doesn't lend well to a cohesive sound. That said, if the Valkyrie isn't always the most resolving, it's still very detailed, engaging, and refined.

Bass:

The Valkyrie's bass is immensely powerful, but despite this, it's poised and balanced, and presents plenty of flexibility and dynamic range. No, it never steps out of the way entirely, but there's still quite a difference between the Valkyrie when it's restrained and the Valkyrie when it's let loose. And when it's let loose, boy does it have something to show. The Weapon IX dynamic can push some serious air, and it seems to enjoy doing so, but it always feels perfectly in control, with snappy decay, and—at least in the Valkyrie's case—enough texture and detail to hear the woodiness of a double bass or the turbulence of a kick drum. The bass is superbly extended and balanced: I detect no difference in volume between sub-bass and mid-bass. However, while solitary basslines are handled with aplomb even if they're quick or complicated, the Valkyrie often has trouble separating overlapping basslines and in such situations can end up muddy.

The Valkyrie's bass is also peculiar in that it doesn't make itself felt as much as heard—to the extent that you can clearly hear the bass coming from the earphones as opposed to in or around your body—and this leads to some unique effects. On the one hand, the bass never colors the overall presentation. Even if it's the loudest, most forward part of a mix, it rarely conceals, and never tinges, the higher frequencies. On the other hand, there's little impact or rumble: the attack is clean, and you can hear down into the depths of hell, but you never get kicked in the ribs or shaken to your soul. This limits fatigue, but it also limits excitement. Dance tracks were puzzling to listen to through the Valkyrie because the basslines were so prominent and yet somewhat lifeless. I felt like I should have been inspired into a frenzy of footwork, but I wasn't even lifted from my chair.

Perhaps I can summarize by saying that the Valkyrie's bass performance is engaging rather than fun. It's big and solid, speedy but not ephemeral, and has plenty of detail, all of which make it a joy to listen to but do not create the primal, chthonic experience you might otherwise expect from its sheer volume. EDM fans beware! (But everybody else rejoice!)

Mids:

The Valkyrie's mid presentation is highly track-dependent, both in terms of quality and positioning. I'd say their primary characteristic is transparency. They're most comfortable taking a (close) backseat to the bass and treble, but they will come forward when asked, and vocals in particular aren't afraid to take the focus. When they do so, however, they feel a little strained and lose some detail, as if somebody EQ'd them just past what the driver could handle. But honestly, it's usually not that noticeable, and I at least prefer this approach to mids which are perfectly rendered but inaudible.

The mids are also by far the most resolving segment of the Valkyrie's performance. Especially when they're on their own or sparsely accompanied, the detail, separation, and speed are excellent. Transient response in particular is among the best I've heard, and timbre is quite good as well, at least with quality recordings. However, because the mids are set back in the mix, none of this is obvious: it only becomes apparent when you pay particular attention to it, and sometimes not even then if the treble or bass are too busy.

In general, the Valkyrie has a better time with instruments than with vocals: clarinets, guitars, pianos, etc. all sound highly detailed and realistic, while voices (both male and female) come across a little flatter and less nuanced, even when they have appropriate body and volume (which is most of the time). The vocal presentation is generally faithful: no artificial chestiness or wispiness, passable dynamic range, but not much in the way of micro-detail or texture. That said, I think it's well more than adequate if utmost vocal realism is a secondary concern for you.

Put simply: if you like a well executed V-signature, the Valkyrie's mids are just dandy, but if you aren't a fan, the Valkyrie probably won't change your mind, even though it's more balanced and refined than most.

Treble:

The Valkyrie's treble is a little rough around the edges. In typical EST fashion, it's present and clear without being piercing, but it's not very forgiving either. Sibilance is noticeable, especially with poor recordings, and cymbals and snare drums can be a little too insistent. Trumpets and flutes sound great for the most part but often lack body and resonance as they ascend into their upper registers. The Valkyrie's treble overall has a slightly thin and brittle quality: it's not offensive by any stretch of the imagination, especially considering I'm particularly sensitive, but I always find myself wishing the treble had a little more roundness and shimmer. Treble extension is excellent, and for the most part the treble manages to make itself heard without dominating, erring on the side of getting lost rather than stabbing through a dense mix. However, I have heard monitors, such as the Unique Melody MEST, that find a happy medium between the two that the Valkyrie can't quite match.

Separation, however, is the biggest problem with the Valkyrie's treble. When there's too much going on in the bass for the Valkyrie to parse, it becomes muddy, but that's not so bad because you just accept that there's a vague mass of bass on top of which everything else can float. When there's too much going on in the treble, on the other hand, everything starts colliding in a much more obvious manner. Each triangle hit competes with each cymbal tap competes with each synth note, and the result isn't pretty. It never becomes strident or sharp, but it's impossible to follow and does become very distracting.

This taken into account, for the most part the treble is well balanced against the mids and the bass, and takes advantage of the capability of the EST driver to maintain a present treble that isn't brazen or obnoxious. It's so close to excellence; it just needs to sort out complicated, intricate passages a little better than it does.

Soundstage/Imaging:

Weirdly enough, the Valkyrie's soundstage is problematically short. It's not expansive, but it's wide and deep enough that you'd expect it to have plenty of space; but, because everything gets squashed onto one plane, instruments run into each other a little too often. If the track is really dense, the Valkyrie can get away with it; but if the track is at all scattered or spread out, the Valkyrie quickly becomes flummoxed. As a result, imaging is fairly mediocre and there is very little air to the presentation. However, when there are few instruments competing for space, the Valkyrie does position them well, taking full advantage of its commendable depth.

Build/Fit:

The Valkyrie is surprisingly diminutive, and the included Final Audio Type E tips are excellent as always and come in the full range of sizes from XS to XL. I don't think anybody should have an issue getting these to fit comfortably. The construction feels solid, and the exclusive Dragonhide faceplate is a real sight. 10/10 from this reviewer.

Comparisons:

Comparisons to the Empire Ears Phantom, Unique Melody MEST, Campfire Audio Solaris 2020, and AAW Mockingbird are coming soon!

Conclusion:

The Valkyrie sounds like a reference monitor on nitrous. Its bass is confidently powerful, its mids won't be bullied into submission either, and its treble is dry and clear. Its detail retrieval is top-notch and it's blisteringly quick all across the spectrum. But the bass doesn't make itself felt, the mids aren't entirely comfortable if brought to the fore, the treble is scattered, and the three characters don't always integrate well. If you're looking for a monitor to hooligan around with or listen critically, or if you're a vocalhead, I would look elsewhere. But in my opinion, the Valkyrie is just about ideal for casual listening to anything that doesn't involve upwards of seven or eight instruments playing at the same time, especially with that magic bass that's so huge without ever being dominant or fatiguing.

I give the Valkyrie 3.5 stars not to say it's mediocre by any means, but to warn my reader that its appeal will be narrow. The Valkyrie offers a very particular and unique signature that won't be for everyone, but if you think it might be for you, I strongly encourage you to give the Valkyrie a ride, because I've never heard anything quite like it.

Introduction

I'm going to use this section to do what I normally don't: discuss a product's packaging. The CL2 comes in a box that at first appears of moderate size but unfolds to reveal quite the accessory package: a plentiful tip selection; two cables—one copper and terminated with a 3.5mm unbalanced plug, the other silver and terminated with a 2.5mm balanced plug; a Bluetooth neckband; a USB-C cable for the neckband that I suspect will mostly be cannibalized for use with smartphones; and a neat soft zipper pouch, which feels adequate given that the CL2 is metal. Clearly a lot of work was invested in developing the unboxing experience. It's a fun little adventure, but, as always, once it's over, you're left with some over-designed cardboard.

Oh right, and a pair of earphones.

Sound

Note: All listening analyzed below was done with the iBasso DX200 w/ Amp 1 and RHA's included copper cable unless otherwise stated. Unfortunately, I didn't have access to any of my other DAPs during my review period; as for the cable, I compare the included silver one in the review, and I don't have any experience with Bluetooth audio so I left the included Bluetooth set alone.

Presentation: A (mostly) well-executed but fairly standard "reference" approach, the CL2 Planar defaults to a razor-flat frequency response all the way up and down the spectrum—neutral is the keyword here, not natural. However, the CL2's dynamic range and transparency are excellent, which means its signature is determined less by RHA's engineers and more by those mastering your music. Whether or not you want to be at their mercy is up to you…but regardless, there are limits to the CL2's plasticity, and ultimately it will never sound like anything other than a stoic studio monitor—though it does a better job than most.

Bass: The CL2's bass response is easily the most controlled presentation I've ever heard. Unlike many sophisticated bass tunings that manage not to dominate too much despite being ever-present, the CL2's bass is actually capable of anything between completely stepping out of the way and properly taking charge of the signature. Impact is a tad to the light side no matter what, but sub-bass and mid-bass are dead even with each other, so it doesn't feel deficient (excepting EDM, hip-hop, etc.). No, it won't match proper basshead monitors for sheer volume, and it doesn't have the delicious texture or decay of a dynamic, but it blends speed, presence, transparency, and timbre into a perfect bass smoothie for people like me who want to have it both ways: to dance to The Knife, rock out with Queen, and appreciate Chris Isaak's more tender vocal performances, all without switching gear.

The CL2's bass is crazy fast: even recordings whose congested, nimble basslines flummox every other monitor I've heard, the CL2 handles without a sweat: the limiting factor becomes your own ability to process everything similarly quickly. Timbre is also a strong point: different instruments sound different, and, more importantly, sound like they should. Organs sound like organs, string basses like string basses, synths like synths. That said, each sounds like itself: the CL2's bass doesn't quite have the necessary analogue richness to convince you that you're listening to a real instrument. Your brain is fooled, but not your ears—or maybe it's the other way around—the point being that the CL2's bass is expertly poised, but, like an arrogant student, it knows it a bit too well. It will faithfully turn 1s and 0s exactly into their corresponding soundwaves, but it's unwilling to fudge the numbers, and consequently it can't bring you into the music as well as many smoother, more relaxed monitors.

Mids: While the CL2's bass is subtly impressive, its mids are merely unoffensive. They slot into the presentation nicely enough, just without any tricks up their sleeves. While this isn't necessarily a bad thing, it doesn't give me much to write about. Mids are pretty much level with the bass and treble on average, or perhaps the tiniest bit forward, but the CL2's shapeshifter bass means the mids, possessed of lesser dynamic range, don't hold any consistent place in the signature. Timbre is still good, but not as realistic as in the bass, and there isn't much in the way of body no matter what—even when the mids are brought forward in the mix, they don't bring with them a commensurate increase in richness, which leaves both vocals and instruments feeling thin.

Detail in the mids is as good as anywhere else, which is to say excellent; though, again, this doesn't translate to accurate texture. You can hear a finger slip on a guitar string, but it doesn't translate to the illusion of a human guitarist. It's a strange disconnect, but as far as monitoring goes, I figure such a quirk is acceptable.

Treble: And here we get to the problems. The CL2's treble response is pretty much in line with everything else, but it has a peculiar edginess to it that I've never experience elsewhere. Coming from the decidedly warm and smooth Empire Ears Phantom as my daily driver, I fully expected it would take some time for me to adjust to a more forward treble like was necessary with their Zeus and ESR, but I never did adjust. The CL2's treble isn't just bright or forward—in fact I don't think either term describes it well—but it's somehow stabby and piercing. Flutes, trumpets, synths, percussion, everything sounds like its trying to split your head open. Listening at lower volumes tames this, but doesn't completely vanquish it.

Even with the painful aspect ignored, the treble's timbre is less than stellar, and that really confines it to being a studio monitor, where otherwise it might have also been a good choice for classical music. Trumpets in particular just don't sound real, triangles strike your eardrums with a vengeance, etc., etc.

Mind, all this is already with the warmer copper cable. The silver cable trades away an ounce of timbre for one of clarity, and an ounce of bass for one of treble. In my opinion, both bad trades that mostly exacerbate the above treble woes.

Resolution: As can be expected from a planar driver, resolution is among the best. Macro and micro details are superb, on display without distracting from the music or accompanying a peaky treble. Clarity is second to none: there's simply nothing that will make the CL2 sound veiled and no cacophony it can't sort out. Transients are blisteringly fast, although sometimes a bit too much for their own good: there were instances in my listening where micro details I know well nearly passed me by because they were there and gone so quickly.

Soundstage: The CL2's soundstage isn't expansive, but it's well-proportioned, and the use of the space is very efficient. Instruments are kept small enough that even without an enormous stage to put them in, the CL2 just doesn't run out of space or individually identifiable positions to put things in. Imaging is therefore solid, though it suffers a little due to the artificial timbre: it's easy to place where things are on the stage at any given moment, but those things are never convincingly human.

Build/Fit

At first, things appear just fine. The earphones are tiny metal lumps that look equal parts blingy and classy and feel indestructible despite weighing next to nothing. Well done on that front.

Then the problems start. First of all, I'm not sure why the CL2 uses MMCX connectors instead of the ubiquitous 2-pin connectors. So far, Audeze has released five planar IEMs that use the standard 2-pin connectors, so it's clearly no restriction imposed by the driver. Perhaps the shells are simply too small—not that I know if that makes any sense—but whatever the reason, I think it was a bad decision. Especially when the two included cables driving up the price don't make much sense either.

For starters, two sonically distinct cables included in the same package should share a termination. Having one be 3.5mm and the other 2.5mm means that anyone with just a smartphone can't use one of the cables they're paying for, and even people that can use both cables won't be able to directly compare them. Further, the cables are much too long and the Y-splits are too far down, hampering portability; and the flexi-lamp-style ear guides are a clever idea that just don't work well in practice. Not to mention that whatever the jackets are made of generate so much friction with the chin sliders that it's almost not worth cinching them.

"But," I hear you saying, "stock cables usually aren't fantastic; why not just use an upgrade cable?" The thing there is, I would, but none of my upgrade cables are MMCX, because the only other popular company I'm aware of that uses MMCX connectors is Campfire Audio, and I don't own any of their products. The idea of using a different cable did cross my mind though, so I tried the CL2 with the stock cable that came with my Etymotic ER4XR. This is not an upgrade cable by any means, but it's an appropriate length, the chin slider works, and it doesn't really sound any worse or even different than the included cables.

Finally, the lightweight, diminutive shells conspire with the spinning connectors to frustrate any attempts at inserting the CL2 in any reasonable span of time, which is curious the first couple times, then seriously annoying forever after.

All that said, once fit is achieved, it is secure and comfortable. A solid selection of tips are included, and they're nicer than many no-name inclusions. Because of the tiny shells, you might need to use larger tips than you usually do, but that also means the shells don't stick out very much, and the insertion depth is good enough despite the short nozzles for appreciable isolation and a secure seal.

Conclusion

I really wanted to like the CL2. It's a seriously impressive piece of engineering, and it gets so close to greatness. However, as much as I want to, I can't let it off the hook for its failures, because there are just too many, and, collectively, they compromise the experience too much for a $1000 monitor. The CL2's sonics are its best feature, and they make a strong case: I heard Shure's KSE1500 at CanJam earlier this year, and it blew me away; meanwhile the CL2 sounds nearly as good for a third of the price, and without a permanent, proprietary box attached. That deserves credit. But other aspects of the CL2's design let it down. MMCX was a questionable decision at best, especially with subpar cables in the box. But even that would be an annoyance rather than a dealbreaker if the CL2 were tuned just a little bit better. As it is, the CL2 sounds nearly as good as the KSE1500, but in too much the same way, and Shure pulls ahead with that final layer of finesse. Not to mention that the arguably even better KSE1200 retails for $2000, and either Shure configuration can be had for even less used. Because of the above, I find it difficult to recommend the CL2. If $1000 is a concrete ceiling to your spend, and you'd swear on your grandmother's grave that the CL2's presentation or prepackaged Bluetooth solution is exactly what you need, go ahead. But for most of us, I'd give a well-deserved and respectful nod to an impressive effort on RHA's part, extend my wallet and patience a little, and snipe a used KSE instead.

Introduction

Just to be upfront, this section has little to do with the Bravado. It's more a brief one of those "My Audiophile Journey" essays. It's there for those who are interested, but the proper discussion of the Bravado begins with the Sound section below.

Anyway, back when the best (and only) IEM I had ever heard was the Etymotic ER4PT, I had a punkish attitude: I was a "true" audiophile because my humble reference monitor was objectively better than all the more expensive and colorfully tuned products out there, which obviously were just glorified Beats. I've since grown up: I'm no longer such a glib prat; and I've recently discovered that while I do appreciate and enjoy a well-executed reference product, I greatly prefer a tonally accurate mid-centric signature for everyday listening.

Yet, in a temporary backslide, I fully expected when I signed up for this review tour to prefer the ESR's (hypothetical) refinement to the Bravado's (hypothetical) hooliganism.

The Bravado was all too happy to prove me wrong.

Sound

Presentation: The Bravado comes out of the gate fists a-fly. No chill. Hard in the paint. It's a scrappy bugger that gets in your face and dares you to judge it based on its price point. It reminds me of a skilled teenage bare-knuckle boxer: its bass punch is authoritative; impressive are its poise and technique. However, this spirited, pugilistic attitude does come at the expense of sophistication: the Bravado sneers at the concepts of soundstage and timbre, crippling its versatility. Not that anybody was looking to the Bravado as a classical or jazz specialist, but the Bravado's limits are even tighter: it refuses to play nice with anything that relies in any way on acoustic instruments. Yet, it equally refuses to be outclassed (at its price point) when it comes to EDM, rap, hip-hop, rock, or grunge.

Bass: The Bravado's bass is its distinguishing feature, giving it an obvious L-shaped response. I don't think it will quite satisfy the proper bassheads out there, but it's still a strong, relentless bass, always at the fore. Put something on with a good beat and you'll be up and about in no time. Attack, however, is not particularly aggressive. There's actually very little impact to its bass, just serious volume. I'm no basshead, but even I think the Bravado could use a little more bite. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, however, as it reduces fatigue without becoming muddy. Decay is satisfying and very natural, perhaps a little to the fast side: even when the bass is whumping away far above the other frequencies, it never gums up the air in the stage. However, fast-moving basslines can still outpace the Bravado, especially as they get deeper into sub-bass. That said, bass extension in general is just fine—mid-bass takes priority over sub-bass, but there's no noticeable roll-off.

Bass texture suffers with the Bravado's timbre, which is to say there isn't any: everything just sounds like bass frequencies, not bass instruments with overtones and all that. Again, this doesn't matter much for synthesized and distorted genres, but it's almost disorienting to hear a string bass as a drone with an utter lack of woodiness or resonance. I don't recommend the experience.

One might say the Bravado's bass bleeds into its mids, but I don't think that's quite accurate. The bass is unequivocally dominant, but it doesn't seem to directly affect the mids beyond drowning them out.

Mids: I'm tempted to begin this section by inquiring, "What mids?" That's not entirely fair, however, because while the Bravado's mids are entirely subordinate, they are neither anemic nor poorly rendered. The mids are tuned more for solidity than utmost clarity, but there's a reasonable amount of detail to both vocals and instruments, and they don't sound inherently veiled even when they're being overshadowed by the bass or treble. All told, the Bravado's mids are pretty unremarkable. They're there, and they do their job: you can hear vocals and guitars over beats—or rather under them—just fine, but don't expect anything exceptional. The mids are just not the Bravado's focus at all.

Treble: Treble is a similar story, but it's more elevated than the mids, though still below the bass by a good margin. I never noticed sibilance where it wasn't already in the track, and the treble never became fatiguing. You can't always hear everything going on with a full drum kit, but the treble is crisp with plenty of detail and a surprising amount of air. Together, these traits make the Bravado's treble almost dry, but a touch of shimmer and sparkle densify the treble enough that it coheres with the rest of the Bravado's bodied signature. The treble gets lost nowhere near as much as the mids, and this contributes significantly to what balance the Bravado is able to present (which, mind, is still not one of its defining characteristics). In all respects, the treble feels correct for the Bravado; one might even say it makes the Bravado: adding polish and excitement to what could otherwise be a blandly loud L-signature without becoming tizzy or obnoxious like what happens with more pronounced V-signatures.

Resolution: Further thanks to the treble, but also due to some deal Empire Ears has clearly made with the devil, detail retrieval on the Bravado, like all their IEMs, is superb. The bass can overwhelm at times (i.e. often) and make micro-details difficult to pick out, but I assure you it's all there. Even more impressive, this doesn't ruin poorly recorded or mastered tracks, which is important considering the Bravado's preferred genres. Transients are pleasingly quick from the mids up, but the bass can smother these as well.

Also, to reiterate, I promise for the last time, the Bravado's timbre is entirely artificial. It has strong detail retrieval, but this alone does not mean you should try using it for music of the classical, jazz, or singer-songwriter varieties, or again for anything else that prominently features acoustic instruments. You should not. Keep to the electronics and the Bravado will thank you, as will your ears.

Soundstage: The Bravado's soundstage is unimpressive but adequate. Fairly wide but neither tall nor deep. Live performances sound like your head is where the microphone should be, which I suppose makes sense but doesn't actually sound very agreeable. Separation, however, is perfectly fine: the stage may be small but it doesn't feel claustrophobic, and you can usually pick out different instruments—if not always their locations—with ease.

Build/Fit

Build feels solid. The included Final Audio Type E tips come in a good range of sizes and are grippy, isolating, and comfortable (although the SS tips wouldn't stay on the left nozzle longer than a couple seconds—also the case with the ESR, but not with the Phantom for whatever reason). The shells stick out a good bit, but the fit was secure: no sharp edges, pressure points, or excess weight. Overall a quality product.

Comparisons

Etymotic ER4XR: Bravado has significantly more powerful bass response and better bass detail, but the ER4XR wins on texture and transient response. The Bravado is much more sensitive and will certainly work with smartphones. The Bravado's isolation is not as good as the ER4XR's. Its detail retrieval is close but falls just short of Etymotic's titan, especially when the Bravado's bass is busy dominating the treble. On a similar note, the ER4XR is more balanced: a slight V compared to the Bravado's distinct L. The Bravado has far better separation. The Bravado is more danceable but less goosebumps-exciting, especially with vocals. Neither have a good soundstage, but the Bravado's is slightly better, as well as its imaging and separation.

Pairings

Sources

iBasso DX200 (Amp 1): I suspect the hyper-transparent, slightly cold Amp 1 is partly to blame here, but this pairing was not ideal. It gives the Bravado a bit too much freedom, making it sound raw and uncouth, shouty and unbalanced. Other amp cards probably patch this pairing up, but I don't own any at the moment, so all I can say is that Amp 1 is no good.

Audio-Opus Opus #2: The difference between this and the DX200 is subtle, but the Opus #2 makes some important improvements. Its touch of warmth greatly improves the Bravado's timbre and moderately improves the balance without stripping the Bravado of its character, and detail retrieval, soundstage, and imaging are all (slightly) superior to that of the DX200. The DX200 lets the Bravado run wild, but the Opus #2 gives it a soothing touch that makes it much more pleasant company.

Cables

Effect Audio Ares II 8-Wire: An interesting pair-up, but not a particularly good one. The 8-Wire noticeably improves all technical abilities of the Bravado, but it also weights it even further towards the low end, both by pumping up the bass and airing out the treble. For me, it upsets the balance and PRaT more than the minor improvements in soundstage, etc. are worth. The Bravado is already not a particularly versatile monitor, and the 8-Wire seriously exacerbates this problem. Nor does it bring the Bravado into proper basshead territory. I'd advise against this one (and perhaps the included Ares 4-Wire as well in favor of something more neutral).

Conclusion

It would be easy to read the above and think that I dislike the Bravado or recommend against it. That is not the case. The Bravado may not be my own ideal monitor, but I can appreciate what it is good for. And what it's good for, it is indeed excellent for, especially for its mid-fi asking price. However, I do caution the prospective buyer to make sure that they will be able to take advantage of the Bravado's strengths and allow its weaknesses, which means a library consisting mostly of genres seriously intended for powerful—but not truly overpowering—bass. No, it isn't good for much else, but if your music is appropriate, I can heartily recommend the Bravado.

Disclaimer: I purchased the Phantom full-price from Empire Ears for my own enjoyment and under no obligations. While EE did request this review in exchange for another consideration (shoutout to Jack and Devon for their excellent customer service!), I was already half done with it at that point, and there was no incentive provided for a positive review.

Introduction

Here, most people detail Empire Ears’ history, first as EarWerkz, then as, well, Empire Ears. All this predates my initiation as an audiophile, and is easily available elsewhere, so I won’t reiterate.

I don’t review packaging, but I will say everything arrived safely.

With that out of the way, below is the actual review.

Sound

Presentation: The Phantom is marketed as something of a spiritual successor to the Zeus, but, though I haven’t yet had a chance to hear it, from what I’ve read about the Zeus I believe “spiritual” is key to the phrase. The Phantom does not present a massive, powerful midrange. Mids are ample, but I wouldn’t describe them as exceptionally forward.

I’ll go into depth on the frequency response shortly, but what the Phantom does present is impeccable timbre. Everything sounds real. Voices, instruments, even synths feel less artificial somehow… Placebo or confirmation bias perhaps, but my ears don’t care what you pesky psychologists and statisticians think: they’re busy enjoying themselves.

The Phantom is warm, but this effect is exaggerated by the included Ares II cable. Paired further with a warm source, its energy begins to fade, and it loses bite. If you listen to a lot of “hard” genres: rock, grunge, metal, or even certain electronic fare, the Phantom won’t be ideal; but between a bright source and a silver cable it might be possible to grind it into shape.

Bass: The Phantom’s bass is aptly described by its marketing blurb: “tastefully lifted,” with “deep low-end extension.” While bassheads would probably do better to check out EE’s Legend X, the way the Phantom’s bass buoys the rest of the signature without anchoring it to the lower frequencies is seriously impressive. There’s no escaping the bass, it drives pre-2000’s EDM well enough, but by some wizardry it never supersedes the higher frequencies. I suspect forbidden magic at play…

The bass extension on the Phantom is also excellent. While the sub-bass as a whole is slightly subtler than the mid-bass, it’s still linear: no disappointing roll-off in the extreme depths. The rumble won’t rearrange your organs, but it might make you look outside for roadworks, which is perfectly adequate as far as I’m concerned.

Impact is a little subdued: thump is a better word than slam here, but there’s no bloom or muddiness, just a polite attack and a medium-fast decay. Not even big drops will deliver a viscerally satisfying smack, but the bass won’t become fatiguing either. Heavy, layered basslines can blend a shade too far, but most others are resolved quickly, with notes spaced well without sounding detached. If I had to describe the Phantom’s bass in a word, “smooth” would be it, said with most positive inflection.

Mids: The Phantom’s mids are curious: timbre, detail, and therefore realism are exceptional, but weight is somewhat lacking. They aren’t recessed, but often vocals don’t sound like they’re being sung with any emotion. This isn’t per se a bad thing, but the Phantom’s warmth and timbre don’t want “reference” mids—they yearn for a soul. Just a few more dB forward and the mids would have been perfect. As it is, while the mids themselves don’t sound mediocre, they tend to make singers sound it. The argument that “mediocre” by definition includes most singers doesn’t escape me, but a little help from one’s audio equipment goes a long way, and the Phantom just doesn’t give it.

Midrange instruments, on the other hand, are just dandy: the Phantom’s timbre gives them a voluptuous resonance while its surpassing detail maintains credibility. Guitars in particular sound so good through the Phantom that I’m strung trying to find ways to describe it.

Moreover, the singers that don’t need help—the well recorded, well mastered, and, well, talented ones—are astonishing through the Phantom, for the same reasons above. I leave it to the reader to judge whether a significant portion of their vocal music qualifies.

Treble: The Phantom’s treble is pleasantly unremarkable. It’s detailed, clean, and present, but there’s no grand air or sparkle. Relatively, it’s recessed, but it’s not anemic, and when it needs to be the focus it doesn’t leave you sad. I’d be surprised if it managed to fatigue anyone, ever; despite this, extension is strong, and snares and cymbals are crisp and detailed. In fact, the longer I spend listening to the treble the more it impresses me with this effortless tightrope performance—similar to the bass, but subtler: I didn’t discover it until I wanted to.

I’ve changed my mind: the Phantom’s treble is remarkable, just not ostentatious. Bravo.

Resolution: The Phantom’s resolution is incredible. It's the first IEM I’ve heard to challenge the mighty Etymōtic ER4XR in this respect. Not only that, but the Phantom actually outdoes the ER4. This may sound obvious considering the Phantom costs five times as much, but even the InEar ProPhile 8, which is also >$1000, and is designed as a studio monitor, can’t touch the ER4. Toppling this champion is an impressive feat, whether it cost $375 or $3750.

Further, thanks to its balance and reliance on technical prowess rather than treble peaks, the Phantom integrates its details. Unlike with the ER4, they aren’t thrust in front of the music, nor do you have to hunt for them as with the PP8: they’re just there, part of the music rather than a separate distraction.

Instrumental separation isn’t perfect but it’s close. Everything sounds like it has a dedicated channel, even in complex electronic or classical compositions, all without sounding scattered or cacophonous. Imaging, however, is another story…

Soundstage: The Phantom is marketed as having a “three-dimensional soundstage.” While I suppose this is technically a fact, the Phantom’s soundstage is neither equiplanar nor expansive: it’s both wider and taller than it is deep, and it’s rather close. Intimate isn’t quite right: instruments have sufficient space and the Phantom isn’t claustrophobic, but like Turnus with his boulder, the soundstage, while greater than average, struggles to throw anything far. Live recordings sound like you’re in the very front row, and studio recordings restrict themselves to the x-axis unless you make the effort to close your eyes tight and imagine things more spread out. I’m no soundstage nut, but even I could do with some more depth, if only to complement the Phantom’s sonic realism with similar spatial realism.

Build/Fit

As far as the universals go, the construction feels solid. The included Final Audio Type E silicone tips come in a reasonable range of sizes and are comfortable and secure. The included Ares II cable also deserves mention for its solid look and feel and attractive sheen, though the splitter seems unnecessarily heavy. Consequently, long sessions can cause pain around the outside of the ear.

The shells are large, but the nozzles taper aggressively and a proper seal doesn’t require deep insertion, so people with small bowls might have an issue, but those with small canals shouldn’t face too much of a problem.

Isolation is very good. Not the best I’ve heard, even ignoring the positively unsafe ER4, but good enough to use on the bus, so good enough for me.

Comparisons

Unfortunately, the Phantom is incomparable to any other IEM I own; within my collection it is unique: in price, in mission, and in execution. However, for the sake of completeness, and to assist any time-delayed clones of myself, I’ve included a few words of contrast.

InEar ProPhile 8: The ProPhile is colder but not much cleaner for it. Inferior separation. Switches help pair it to more sources. More comfortable. Details are less apparent. Soundstage is more track-dependent but larger in general, deeper in particular. Extension is similar. Balance is close, but bass is subtler and treble is more prominent.

Noble Audio Sage: The Sage has a more pronounced n-shape frequency response. Bass hits and decays faster but is less textured and less respectful of the mids. Rolled-off on both ends. Similar soundstage. Less comfortable (why is it bigger when it has less than half the drivers?). Similar separation.

Pairings

Audio-Opus Opus #2: This is the first time that my preferred DAP has been simply incorrect. This pairing is too warm between the Opus, the copper cable, and the Phantom itself. It doesn’t become muddy, but the mid-bass does become awkwardly prominent, and both devices are done a serious disservice. The Opus does broaden the Phantom’s soundstage and extend its detail-retrieving tentacles even further, but it isn’t worth the tone’s suffering. Maybe this could work with a very bright cable?

iBasso DX200 (Amp 1): On a related note, I practically had to rewrite this review once I stuck the Phantom in the DX200 after testing it mainly with the Opus. The DX200 pairs beautifully with the Phantom, staying out of the way that the Phantom fully displays its unique character. The Phantom’s tuning is so particular that a totally uncolored DAP may just be the correct approach, and that description fits the DX200 well.

Hiby R6: As always, the R6 is less sophisticated than the Opus #2 and DX200, but this time around the bass focus doesn’t do anybody any redeeming favors: the Phantom doesn’t need any help with low-end detail, and its balance is upset by the R6’s L-shaped response. Perhaps an IEMatch would patch this pairing up, but while I can’t speak to that for sure, I can recommend against this pairing without one.

Other stuff: The Phantom plays relatively nice with lower-quality sources: I was able to listen to it out of my LG G3 and Thinkpad X1 Carbon 2018 for significant periods of time without envying Van Gogh; though that wasn’t true of my desktop, which traumatic experience I don’t care to relive long enough to recount. If you don’t have dedicated source components or the extra cash to acquire some, I would look elsewhere: the Phantom may or may not punish you for it, but either way you’ll miss much of what it has to offer.

Conclusion

The Phantom is fairly versatile, but it’s not for everybody: any sort of “-head” stopped reading this review a long time ago (or had nothing else to do), the Phantom’s warmth doesn’t work well with some genres, its detail might present a nasty surprise to fans of certain vocal acts, the soundstage is a little underwhelming, and $1800 is a lot of money; however, if your musical taste and other equipment are appropriate, I strongly recommend the Phantom. Give your ears time to adjust to its unorthodox approach and I anticipate you’ll come to respect, admire, and enjoy it as seriously as I have.

Introduction

I don't normally review packaging, but because some people have made a big deal of the ProPhile's plain-for-a-flagship packaging, I thought I would note that while the box isn't wood or carbon fiber or aluminum or any other such pointlessly expensive material, everything arrived safely, and the cardboard box fit neatly in my recycle bin instead of taking up space on my desk for no good reason. I will say, however, that the (otherwise excellent) Pelican 1060 case is a little on the large side unless you plan on toting accessories; I carry my ProPhile in the smaller Pelican 1010 that came with my Noble Sage.

The ProPhile also comes with two switches recessed into the shells that boost the bass and/or treble frequencies by 3dB or 2dB, respectively. The marketing is that this gives you four IEMs in one! This is hype, but the switches aren't useless either: the same way a bicycle's gears don't by themselves allow you to go faster or slower, but rather allow you to maintain your ideal pedaling cadence at whatever speed you're going, the ProPhile's switches don't give it four properly distinct signatures, but rather allow it to pair with a wider range of sources. For example, I find the bass switch is necessary to get enough oomph from the HiBy R6; whereas the Opus #2 sounds bloated with the bass switch on, but perfect with it off. (The switches are enough of a pain to flip that doing so for anything other than switching sources isn't worth it anyway.)

On to the important part of the review!

Sound

Presentation: Reference done right. Nothing stands out or sits back: everything is handled with overwhelming competence. The ProPhile is not a "fun" or "musical" IEM, but then it's not supposed to be. Think of it as a designated driver: clear-headed and responsible, it may not have the absolute best time at the bass-and-treble party, but it will never make a fool of itself by throwing up all over the mids either. And despite its responsibility, the ProPhile at worst sounds a little stiff: never cold, analytical, or boring.

Bass: Like a good butler, the ProPhile's bass is confident but respectful; speedy but dignified; at work behind the scenes but immediate when called upon; soft-spoken but with a whetted wit. Even in delicate situations, where it might come into conflict with the lower mids, the ProPhile's bass deftly defers without simply surrendering. However, unless he is truly too meek, don't even think of trying to corrupt this butler's good sense with the bass switch: it may make him a bit pudgier, a bit slower, a bit clumsier, a bit coarser, yet he will never stoop to shouting over other frequencies like a common servant.

All of which is to say that the bass is always doing exactly what it's supposed to: whether that be to slam, rumble, nimbly jump about, or muckily slide around; to buoy the mids, contrast with the treble, drive a dance tune, generally add body, stay out of the way, or even tastefully show off every now and then. The ProPhile's bass is a properly impressive jack-of-all-trades, so long as you're not looking for hired muscle for EDM or what have you: it's just too well bred for that.

Mids: The ProPhile's mids are like that brilliant straight-A whiz kid who's simultaneously one of the least interesting people you've ever met. Flummoxed by no subject, they pull off the great trick of not emphasizing the lower or upper mids, such that male and female vocals are evenly matched, and both are detailed and technically excellent; but while vocals are placed correctly just at the fore, they are never voluptuous or sensual—this kid has never known love.

Of course, the ProPhile is a reference tool, so this is exactly the aim, and while vocal music isn't as engaging as it could be, the ProPhile makes up for it in accuracy and versatility: mids sound right, if a little bland; and they don't shove their way to the front when they don't belong there.

Treble: The ProPhile's treble makes me think of a smallish helium balloon. Which is to say that the treble is presented smoothly, without peaks, with a minimum of air to make it float on top of the rest of the signature without sounding totally separate. It's very good treble overall: there's no seam between it and the upper mids, and everything that resides in or ventures into the treble sounds perfectly accurate but never cold or fatiguing. Cymbals have a distinct, crisp attack and realistic decay; trumpets sound like trumpets rather than…whatever garbage it is trumpets always sound like through inferior equipment; you can hear the airstream underneath a flute; snares don't sound like they're cracking your head open; etc.

However, the problem with balloons is that they have to be carried on a string, and walking with a balloon on a string ends up with the balloon bouncing along behind you. So the treble is on the ProPhile: always sounding a couple milliseconds behind. It's barely noticeable, and I find I can ignore it most of the time, but I have to remember to do so, which is less than ideal. The treble switch doesn't do much for me, but since that's an extra feature anyway, I don't think it's worth complaining about too much.

Resolution: Very, very good. The ProPhile retrieves very nearly every detail I know of, and I'm an ER4 veteran. Exacting as it is, the ProPhile is remarkably generous: while it won't forgive low bitrates or poor recording, it plays nice with high-quality MP3's. (So long as you don't go out of your way to hear flaws.) As a studio reference tool, this is perhaps a compromise, but it goes a long way towards making the ProPhile a casually listenable IEM for those of us who can't find, store, and/or afford a completely lossless library.

Imaging and separation are both excellent: while the ProPhile feels more full-bodied than transparent, this is just the difference between details being presented on request and details being shoved in your face, and I think it's this grounded sense of body that makes the ProPhile as listenable as it is. If you zone out, all the instruments cohere into the best kind of solid sound; if you zoom in, it's just as easy to pick out and follow single instruments. Heavily congested passages do require a little effort to pick apart, but nothing unreasonable. (And isn't that sort of the point?)

Soundstage: The ProPhile's soundstage is the most track-dependent I've ever heard. Sometimes it sounds expansive, other times borderline intimate. This is probably a good thing for those using it as a reference tool (or those with nothing but excellent recordings), but for casual listening it's a little jarring. However, it never sounds bad. When it's fed a track with a large stage, it extends both wide and high, and nearly as deep; when it's a fed a more compact track, it still makes good use of what space it has, positioning and separating instruments well. It never feels stretched or artificially airy, and overall I'm inclined to call it a "good" soundstage, given that it's able to scale to whatever you give it.

Build/Fit

A disclaimer: I own the ProPhile 8S model, which is designed for people like me with small ear canals (or small ears in general). However, even this comes with a large selection of tips (generic, Comply, and SpinFit) that ranges from tiny to quite big, and I expect the S is lighter than the full-size model, so I would suggest anybody without cavernous ears get the S if possible.

All that said, the ProPhiles have a superb fit, by far the most comfortable IEMs I have ever used. They totally disappear after a few seconds, to the point where every now and then it's tempting to fiddle with them to make sure they're still there. I found a perfect seal immediately with a pair of the included SpinFit tips, and while insertion and removal are a little more involved than normal, I've quickly gotten used to the particular twist technique required, and it's no hassle at all.

Construction is solid. Nothing schmancy but nothing that seems like it will break, ever. A reserved matte plastic means the ProPhile isn't a conversation starter, but it also doesn't make you look like you're trying to attract attention, and it means the ProPhile doesn't look very fun to steal. It's a personal aesthetic thing, but really, these are going to spend most of their time in your ears where you can't see them anyway. You could put stickers on the outside faces if you wanted?

The included cable does use memory wire around the ear, which works just fine for me, but if you're one of the people that hates that for whatever reason, you'll want an aftermarket cable to go with these.

Comparisons

Etymotic ER4XR: A $1000 price difference, but the only remotely comparable IEM that I own. The ER4XR, predictably, has greater bass extension and quantity, half the time to its detriment, especially when it smothers the low mids. The ER4XR wins (as always) on detail retrieval: it just finds everything; it's an accomplishment that the ProPhile gets as close as it does. The ER4XR has significantly better isolation than the ProPhile, but this comes with horrendous microphonics that the ProPhile doesn't present. The ER4XR sounds a little leaner, and therefore a little more transparent than the ProPhile, but for the wrong reasons: a lower treble peak and relatively recessed mids open the presentation up, but also make it sound thin and weak—the ProPhile sounds richer without sacrificing anything meaningful for it. (As Chris Traeger points out on Parks and Recreation, eggnog is way better when it's not nonfat.) Everything else—mids, treble, soundstage, comfort, anything you can name—is pretty much in the ProPhile's favor as both a reference tool and a listenable IEM. Eight drivers are better than one; go figure.

Pairings

Audio-Opus Opus #2: A great match: the touch of warmth offered by the Opus #2 makes the ProPhile that much more engaging while the otherwise reference signature still lets the ProPhile do what it does best. The Opus #2 also has the best detail retrieval and soundstage of the three DAPs discussed here. I don't use either switch for this pairing.

iBasso DX200 (Amp 1): Truly flat. The DX200 is the best pairing of these three for critical listening, but because both the DX200 and the ProPhile lack any warmth or emphasis, the sound feels scattered and incoherent, not in the sense that it's technically incapable (because the technical mastery with this pairing is incredible), but in the sense that it feels like you're listening to a bunch of instruments playing at the same time, not a piece of music. All the switches do in this pairing is make things more fatiguing, and less accurate. One of the warmer amp cards might make this pairing more casually listenable, but out of the box, the DX200 and ProPhile are only suited for actual referencing.

HiBy R6: Though generally less sophisticated than the other two players, the R6 does have the best bass extension and detail of the three (though I find the bass switch necessary for this pairing). Otherwise, the R6 is still a good match for the ProPhile, but (and this may be the fault of the high output impedance) it sort of ruins the reference signature and bullies the ProPhile into doing something different entirely. Which isn't bad, but don't go in expecting the same beautifully flat response. (It's more of a gentle L.)

Conclusion

The InEar ProPhile 8 is something special: a properly flat IEM that sounds good in one way or another with everything, and leaves you to fine-tune its sound with its switches and your source of choice. It is also supremely comfortable, especially as a universal. Some people might want something a little more blingy, or with a more distinct signature, but if you care primarily about fit, accuracy, and value, and can overlook a very slightly lax treble, I highly recommend this IEM.

(Removed.)