In that spirit, and knowing I did not own a runout gauge, Trei told me to eyeball the chrome bead on the lower rim of the 1300G's platter against the line of the plinth's top surface, watching to see if the platter rises and falls during rotation. Which it did! I estimated it rose about 1.5mm during one point in each rotation. This seemed trivial, but Michael said I could fix that by first making sure I have the washers on the screws that fasten the platter to the motor in the right order (with the small Belleville spring washers on top next to the screw-head), and, as the manual clearly instructs, "Tighten the three screws evenly." When I loosened the three screws and snugged them down as evenly as I could without a torque wrench, I was delighted to see the up-and-down motion was gone.
As I've done with all my Technics turntables, I set all cartridges to the Stevenson geometry.
Listening
My first impression of the Technics SL-1300G was "Holy cow! Are you kidding me? That's the smoothest, quietest analog I've ever heard from any record player." Then I remembered Ken Micallef's dead-silent J.Sikora deck. And Alex Halberstadt's "quiet with push" Well Tempered Lab Amadeus record player. And my Trei-optimized Linn LP12, which wins medals for silence and PRaT. The 1300G was not as quiet as those decks, but it was conspicuously quiet.
In my 2016 1200GAE review, I thought the 1200G sounded more sharply focused and transparent than my stoop-sale SL1200Mk.II, but also perhaps, very subtly, digital, in a way my old gray 1200 did not. All of the several Mk.IIs I've owned presented music with what I call a "stretchy" correction interval that I identify as some amount of leading-edge and trailing-edge blur that appears to connect separate sounds together. To my ears, this subliminal blurring is unobtrusive and does not compromise my listening pleasures.
While using the 1200GAE, I detected a sharper, more distinct "correction interval" that I pictured as a tiny squarewave superimposed on the analog signal streaming from the cartridge output. If what I heard was real, that tiny wave must be buried somewhere in or near or separate from the noisefloor. When records were playing, it was imperceptible, unless I specifically went looking for it.
The 1300G induced a tiny mental squarewave too, but it was so low in level, I'd need an EKG machine to verify its presence.
I mention all this because my auditions suggest that Technics' delta-sigma speed control has brought direct-drive platter spinning to a quieter, more natural, less mechanical place. And I'm really digging it.
Nevertheless, I've always thought and still think the 1200 Mk.II sounds alluringly smooth, high in boogie-factor, and uncolored. For me, the Mk.II's strongest suits are its motor and chassis, and its weakest link is its tonearm. But I don't feel that way about the SL-1300G's tonearm, which looks the same as my old Mk.II's, but moves with noticeably lower stiction and friction.
As Bill Voss explained: The 1300G uses the same basic tonearm, with the same bearings and bits as the 1200G, but substitutes an aluminum armtube for the magnesium pipe on the 1200G. And! According to Bill, the only difference between the 9" magnesium arm on the 1200G and the 10" magnesium arm on the SL-1000R is the length. What this means is: Technics makes one tonearm and fits it with three different armtubes to suit the needs of three different turntable models.
Listening with the Nagaoka MP-200
The first arrangement I tried felt like roots audio: the SL-1300G sporting a $509 Nagaoka MP-200 moving magnet cartridge feeding my beloved Sun Valley SV-EQ1616D phono equalizer ($850 in kit form). This created a jumping, live-wire–sounding analog source that played an original pressing of Dinah Washington's This Is My Story Vol.1 (Mercury Stereo SR60788) in a manner that felt crisp, direct, and authentic to its era (1963). What stood out was how Dinah's voice was so clear and present it became impossible to not pay complete attention to how the artist was forming each word and shaping each phrase of each song. My copy of This Is My Story is an old, worn, hazed-with-scratches disc, with a dense hairball of spindle marks on both sides, but that wear was not noticeable. Dinah Washington's voice was clear, corporeal, and true of tone. To my delight, the 1300G exposed the unique flavors of each track's reverb. If I could only save one record from my collection, it might be the 1968 Skip James LP titled The Devil Got My Woman (Vanguard VSD79273). Skip James's chill-inducing voice, in concert with his transcendent piano and guitar accompaniments, takes scary ethereal beauty to a place I need to visit often. When the 1300G+MP-200 played this record, I felt instantly transported, and while lucid dreaming with Skip, I found myself pausing repeatedly to admire the quality of sound coming out of my Falcon Gold Badge speakers, thinking how could it, and why should it, ever sound better than this? Like its SL-1200Mk.II forebear, the SL-1300G's tonearm seemed especially made for moving magnet cartridges. The Nagaoka MP-200 and Shure V15 Type III moving magnets tracked splendidly and sounded more solid, transparent, and finely detailed than I thought they ever could.
Listening with Hana's SL Mk.II
Speaking of Mk.IIs, Hana's new "Mk.II version of its popular SL moving coil cartridge is a stunner and shaker, and costs only $850. And it seemed like a cartridge SL-1300G owners might want to consider. The Hana Mk.II's greater mass, alnico magnet, tapered shank aluminum cantilever, and nude Shibata diamond make it a cartridge that, mounted on the 1300G's tonearm, strode through complex program with a high level of unruffled precision. Playing "Careless Love" off that 1968 Skip James LP put me in a super mood. Tone and rhythm were five-star just right, as were transients and presence. Think smooth flow, touchable textures, and sterling tone. Best of all, the SL Mk.II (mounted in a $450 DS Audio HS-001 headshell) played this recording with creamy flowing rhythms, a rich well-focused midrange, and razor-like transients. IM distortion was below audibility, proof the 1300G's tonearm steers cartridges with aplomb.
Torque settings
Lately I resort to recordings with massed strings punctuated by sledgehammer bass transients as a measure of cartridge tracking stability. One of my favorite discs to test for this is a Columbia six-eyes pressing of Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic in a landmark performance of Stravinsky's Firebird Suite (Columbia MS 6014). The high-rez bass transients on this recording are legendary, but the 1300G just smiled as they passed through effortlessly.
The 1300G allows for three choices for "turntable startup speed," which it defines as "time to reach constant speed after [Start:Stop] is pressed" and "torque gain at constant speed." The factory's default setting is "3" (the highest), and I had done all of the above listening at that setting. But out of curiosity and a desire for thoroughness, I tried lowering the torque one step at a time while repeat playing that Columbia Firebird. The differences were subtle but clear, and the test proved very Goldilocks. With the Hana SL Mk.II, the "3" setting was a touch hard and sometimes a tad bright, but always highly expressive. The "1" setting was more supple, laid-back, and transparent, but I felt that the leading edge of transients was compromised a little too much. The "2" setting felt like a neutral balance between hard and soft. The sound difference between settings was subtle—I doubt I could tell which setting was which in a blind listening.
After settling on "2," I played Charles Mackerras conducting the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra performing the ballet version (arranged by Charles Mackerras) of Gilbert and Sullivan's opera Pineapple Poll (EMI LP ESD 7028). I have enjoyed this stunning demonstration-quality recording since I discovered it on Harry Pearson's Super Disc list in the 1980s. This is British music on British vinyl featuring EMI's best recorded sound. I wondered if a Japanese record player could ever really play it properly?
To my amusement, with the Hana SL Mk.II on Technics' SL-1300G, this disc sounded surprisingly much like it does on my Linn LP12 with an old Koetsu cartridge. I noticed this similarity immediately. As the Union Jack fluttered, I observed a relaxed openness, with a ginlike transparency, and pure saturated tones—the definition of British sound.
What I'm describing here is a $3300 turntable with an $850 moving coil cartridge feeding an $850 kit phono stage that plays with the assured vigor and understated sophistication of record players costing several times as much.
This is the kind of mid-level audio that could be aspirational to persons with modest resources and luxury taste, and possibly an end-game solution for persons seeking a durable, precisely engineered tool for enjoying their record collection.
I found a new drug
Initially, the Technics SL-1300G played smooth and quiet to a point where for a while I thought it was too smooth and too seductive. Then just as I'd get lulled out, it would startle me with a sledgehammer bass transient, followed by a head-rushing bevy of train-wrecking momentum. I forgot how quiet turntables with great tonearms are the ones most likely to startle listeners. Turns out, this deck's best talent was how it could go from dreamy and dead silent to explosive—with elan, and understated ease. Like all Technics turntables, the SL-1300G was engineered to be set up easily and correctly by average users, and to last decades under heavy use. In my system, the 1300G performed like a Class A turntable at a Class B price. That's why it's my new budget reference.
My first impression of the Technics SL-1300G was "Holy cow! Are you kidding me? That's the smoothest, quietest analog I've ever heard from any record player." Then I remembered Ken Micallef's dead-silent J.Sikora deck. And Alex Halberstadt's "quiet with push" Well Tempered Lab Amadeus record player. And my Trei-optimized Linn LP12, which wins medals for silence and PRaT. The 1300G was not as quiet as those decks, but it was conspicuously quiet.
Listening with the Nagaoka MP-200The first arrangement I tried felt like roots audio: the SL-1300G sporting a $509 Nagaoka MP-200 moving magnet cartridge feeding my beloved Sun Valley SV-EQ1616D phono equalizer ($850 in kit form). This created a jumping, live-wire–sounding analog source that played an original pressing of Dinah Washington's This Is My Story Vol.1 (Mercury Stereo SR60788) in a manner that felt crisp, direct, and authentic to its era (1963). What stood out was how Dinah's voice was so clear and present it became impossible to not pay complete attention to how the artist was forming each word and shaping each phrase of each song. My copy of This Is My Story is an old, worn, hazed-with-scratches disc, with a dense hairball of spindle marks on both sides, but that wear was not noticeable. Dinah Washington's voice was clear, corporeal, and true of tone. To my delight, the 1300G exposed the unique flavors of each track's reverb. If I could only save one record from my collection, it might be the 1968 Skip James LP titled The Devil Got My Woman (Vanguard VSD79273). Skip James's chill-inducing voice, in concert with his transcendent piano and guitar accompaniments, takes scary ethereal beauty to a place I need to visit often. When the 1300G+MP-200 played this record, I felt instantly transported, and while lucid dreaming with Skip, I found myself pausing repeatedly to admire the quality of sound coming out of my Falcon Gold Badge speakers, thinking how could it, and why should it, ever sound better than this? Like its SL-1200Mk.II forebear, the SL-1300G's tonearm seemed especially made for moving magnet cartridges. The Nagaoka MP-200 and Shure V15 Type III moving magnets tracked splendidly and sounded more solid, transparent, and finely detailed than I thought they ever could.
Listening with Hana's SL Mk.IISpeaking of Mk.IIs, Hana's new "Mk.II version of its popular SL moving coil cartridge is a stunner and shaker, and costs only $850. And it seemed like a cartridge SL-1300G owners might want to consider. The Hana Mk.II's greater mass, alnico magnet, tapered shank aluminum cantilever, and nude Shibata diamond make it a cartridge that, mounted on the 1300G's tonearm, strode through complex program with a high level of unruffled precision. Playing "Careless Love" off that 1968 Skip James LP put me in a super mood. Tone and rhythm were five-star just right, as were transients and presence. Think smooth flow, touchable textures, and sterling tone. Best of all, the SL Mk.II (mounted in a $450 DS Audio HS-001 headshell) played this recording with creamy flowing rhythms, a rich well-focused midrange, and razor-like transients. IM distortion was below audibility, proof the 1300G's tonearm steers cartridges with aplomb.
Lately I resort to recordings with massed strings punctuated by sledgehammer bass transients as a measure of cartridge tracking stability. One of my favorite discs to test for this is a Columbia six-eyes pressing of Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic in a landmark performance of Stravinsky's Firebird Suite (Columbia MS 6014). The high-rez bass transients on this recording are legendary, but the 1300G just smiled as they passed through effortlessly.
The 1300G allows for three choices for "turntable startup speed," which it defines as "time to reach constant speed after [Start:Stop] is pressed" and "torque gain at constant speed." The factory's default setting is "3" (the highest), and I had done all of the above listening at that setting. But out of curiosity and a desire for thoroughness, I tried lowering the torque one step at a time while repeat playing that Columbia Firebird. The differences were subtle but clear, and the test proved very Goldilocks. With the Hana SL Mk.II, the "3" setting was a touch hard and sometimes a tad bright, but always highly expressive. The "1" setting was more supple, laid-back, and transparent, but I felt that the leading edge of transients was compromised a little too much. The "2" setting felt like a neutral balance between hard and soft. The sound difference between settings was subtle—I doubt I could tell which setting was which in a blind listening.
After settling on "2," I played Charles Mackerras conducting the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra performing the ballet version (arranged by Charles Mackerras) of Gilbert and Sullivan's opera Pineapple Poll (EMI LP ESD 7028). I have enjoyed this stunning demonstration-quality recording since I discovered it on Harry Pearson's Super Disc list in the 1980s. This is British music on British vinyl featuring EMI's best recorded sound. I wondered if a Japanese record player could ever really play it properly?
Initially, the Technics SL-1300G played smooth and quiet to a point where for a while I thought it was too smooth and too seductive. Then just as I'd get lulled out, it would startle me with a sledgehammer bass transient, followed by a head-rushing bevy of train-wrecking momentum. I forgot how quiet turntables with great tonearms are the ones most likely to startle listeners. Turns out, this deck's best talent was how it could go from dreamy and dead silent to explosive—with elan, and understated ease. Like all Technics turntables, the SL-1300G was engineered to be set up easily and correctly by average users, and to last decades under heavy use. In my system, the 1300G performed like a Class A turntable at a Class B price. That's why it's my new budget reference.
