There’s something coy about the way Arcam designed the packaging for its new A25 integrated amplifier ($1499, all prices in USD). It’s clean but utilitarian. Its labels are sparse but precisely informative. There are no diagrams, no claims about performance specifications, no lists of supported formats or connectivity options. There isn’t even any indication that the power stage relies on an amp topology that many people have never heard of or experienced: class G.
Overall, the box is like that cool neighborhood pub with the little hand-carved sign that’s easy to miss, because if you know, you know. Y’know?
Pop the lid, though, and you start to get a sort of “for-your-eyes-only” vibe from the A25’s packaging and presentation. That big “A” logo hints at something special, something exciting, even if you don’t have the sort of built-in fondness for Arcam that I do.
I even love the little flap on the lid of the inner packaging, which—as I discovered when I also unboxed the company’s ST5 streamer—can tip out just as easily as in, depending on how the fold of the cardboard falls once you get to that point.
Open that lid and—hang on. What’s all this, then? Nary an ounce of foam to be found. No heinous expanded polystyrene. Not even slightly better expanded polyethylene. Just straight-up molded cardboard in a light-but-rigid, squared-off egg-crate shape, with a carve-out for the accessories box. At this point, I’m assuming there’s foam underneath somewhere, but just seeing this level of sustainability in the packaging materials makes me excited.
Before I explore deeper, though, a look inside that accessories box. It’s admittedly a bit sparse—just a power cord, the included remote control, and a couple of AAA cells.
And how about that? No foam anywhere! I have to say, I have to be careful when I see this sort of thing, because it creates such a good impression that I have to force myself to be more critical when it comes time to evaluate the performance of the product. But even if the A25 doesn’t end up living up to expectations (not that this has ever happened to me with Arcam gear—especially the class-G stuff), I have to give kudos to Arcam for greener packaging that works every bit as well in terms of protection and is actually reusable in a way that EPS often isn’t. Not to mention that it looks so much nicer and is also recyclable, if you get rid of your gear boxes. Big ups all the way around for this.
With the amp and accessories pulled out of the box, you can see the quality of the cloth bag Arcam employs for an extra level of protection, as well as the sleek design of the remote control. I’m not sure if it’ll show up in the photos after they’ve been resized for the web, but the remote has a little “Integrated Amplifier” designation at the bottom, just to aid in easy identification if you have more than one piece of gear from the Radia line, since the clickers are all the same in terms of button layout. The remote also gives the first hints of the amplifier’s stylings, especially with its yellow accents—here, a quick and easy visual indicator of the buttons you’ll use the most: the volume controls.
Those yellow accents carry over to the edges of the ventilation holes at the top of the A25’s chassis, as well as rings around the volume and source-selection knobs. What you can’t see from the photos, of course, is how the knobs feel. And I’m struggling to describe it. They’re light and precise, without the sort of inertia that I normally prefer in a knob.
If you’re a speed-cuber, you’ll get what I mean when I say that they feel papery—more like a light and dry but nimble YuXin Little Magic V2 than a more fluid MoYu WeiLong WR M. If you’re not a cuber, I assure you I’m not having a stroke. Those are real words. It’s just that I rarely see any form of friction described as “papery” outside of that hobby, so I’m struggling for more universally evocative verbiage here.
Another splash of color you’ll likely see only once in a rare while: the A25’s tootsies are also trimmed with bright yellow accents. Even without those accents, though, they’re really nice feet.
Keep flipping the amp over, and you’ll arrive at your first glimpse of the I/O section, which is covered by a nice hood that’ll keep your cables and interconnects a little more hidden if you’re installing the integrated amp in an open-air setting, or even on glass shelves. The five-way binding posts have a nice feel and accept bananas or spades just fine, as well as a bare-wire connection if you’ve given up on life altogether.
You will also find a preamp output, an MM phono input (with ground), and three line-level stereo ins (all single-ended RCA), along with one optical and two coaxial digital inputs, and a bit of a curiosity: a USB-C DAC input. Hopefully this becomes more common as the years go by, as I’d really love to be able to stop buying USB Type-B cables when I inevitably run one over with the vacuum or what have you. There are also a handful of control connections that may be of interest to some shoppers.
As is becoming something of a tradition, I also got a review sample of Arcam’s new ST5 streamer ($799), which I’ll be reviewing for SoundStage! Simplifi. It’s slimmer, of course, and doesn’t have as much connectivity, but I love the complementary design, as well as the fact that the units stack quite nicely.
And here they are from the front, all powered up and ready to rock. Apologies for the noisiness of the image. My two-channel listening room is the only place in the known universe darker than the inside of a supermassive black hole, so getting enough light in here to take photos is tough. But I thought it’d be nice to show the gear in situ for once.
At any rate, I’m champing at the bit to dig into this one. As I said above, I have oodles of affection for Arcam as a brand, and the new direction the company is taking with the Radia line intrigues me. Whether the substance is on par with the style remains to be seen. But I’ll have that answer soon in my full review.
. . . Dennis Burger
dennisb@soundstagenetwork.com
