Marantz
Model 10 Integrated Amplifier
GBP £13,000 | AUD $25,000 | USD $15,000

The new Model 10 is an engineering showcase and a statement of intent. As an indication of what Marantz believes itself to be, and where it thinks it’s going, it is prodigious. The lavishly finished aluminium casework sports a 4.5mm thick front panel with the backlit ‘floating’ control panel that this company has been refining for a while now. The chunky side panels are 16mm thick. The 6mm top plate allows, through a textured stainless steel mesh, an illuminated glimpse of a hefty transformer and Marantz’s latest SA-3 HDAM op…
Marantz
Model 10 Integrated Amplifier
GBP £13,000 | AUD $25,000 | USD $15,000

The new Model 10 is an engineering showcase and a statement of intent. As an indication of what Marantz believes itself to be, and where it thinks it’s going, it is prodigious. The lavishly finished aluminium casework sports a 4.5mm thick front panel with the backlit ‘floating’ control panel that this company has been refining for a while now. The chunky side panels are 16mm thick. The 6mm top plate allows, through a textured stainless steel mesh, an illuminated glimpse of a hefty transformer and Marantz’s latest SA-3 HDAM op-amp modules. Even the sturdy base of the box and its rear panel are copper-plated. The unit weighs a mighty 33.7kg, but somehow manages to look even heavier.

The front panel is oddly both pared-back yet quite busy at the same time. It is dominated by three largish circles – there is an input selector and a volume control, both made of solid aluminium, and between them a ‘porthole’ display of the kind that first appeared on a Marantz amplifier back in 1960. The fact that it’s now 2025 means it houses a crisp, hi-res OLED screen that variously displays the selected input, the volume level, bass/treble/balance control, phono input options and virtual VU meters. There’s a 6.3mm headphone socket, and some dimmable lighting that illuminates the textured, slightly concave panel that sits behind the controls. Further defeatable backlighting is deployed on the top panel.

The rear panel is home to all connectivity, bar the headphone socket. There are four line-level inputs – two are on balanced XLR connections, the other two on unbalanced RCAs – and there’s an unbalanced output marked ‘Recorder’ that uses RCA connectivity too. The phono input can be switched between MM and MC, with three MC impedance settings available. There are RCA and XLR connections for use with external amplifiers, so power amp and preamp connectivity is possible. There are two pairs of the company’s over-engineered, copper-plated SPKT-100+ speaker terminals, meaning the Model 10 can power two pairs of speakers or bi-wire one. Marantz’s ‘Floating Control Bus System’ makes an appearance, so if you shell out for multiple Model 10s, you can bi-amp your necessarily pricey, high-performance speakers.

Things are equally thorough on the inside, naturally. The Model 10 is a triple-layer machine, designed to offer complete separation of all its critical components. At the top is where you’ll find headphone amplification and control units, then move downwards through a copper shielding plate to the middle layer, and you will see carefully isolated sections for the phono module, gain control, preamp and input stages, plus the transformer and linear PSU for the preamp. At the bottom, beneath another copper shielding plate, is the actual amplification. Dual-mono Class D modules, developed in conjunction with Purifi, are arranged in a symmetrical topology and feature internal heatsinking and twin switched-mode power supplies. Marantz reckons this arrangement will twist out 250 watts per channel into an 8 ohm load, and that doubles as the impedance halves. Frequency response is claimed to be 5Hz-60kHz.

Only the supplied remote control handset sounds the falsest of notes, where the Model 10 is concerned. It’s a system remote that can operate the Link 10n streamer and SACD 10 disc player that completes this range, so it has more buttons than it needs. Sadly, these are small, minutely labelled and don’t enjoy any backlighting. It is finished in a peculiar shade of dark green, too, which complements neither the black nor the champagne options of the Model 10.
The Listening

This is a superb stereo amplifier without – as far as I can determine – a single weakness as far as sound quality is concerned. This sort of money spent on two-channel amplification with some other brands buys hugely assertive and characterful sound, the sort of audio personality that can dominate a system. That is not how the Marantz Model 10 rolls, which is what makes it such a complete performer. Everything it does is done with staggering efficiency and no small degree of élan – but it’s much more interested in giving you the music as recorded, rather than its idea of what the music should be.
The big Marantz then sounds tonally neutral and authentic. It’s far more revealing of the original recording and the sound source used to play it than most high-end designs. Its frequency balance is so smooth that it’s almost reflective – at no point is any part of the sound spectrum understated or given undue prominence. It also offers the sort of dynamic potency that means the distance from the quietest, most contemplative moments in a recording contrasts with the loudest, most intense moments in the same way that white contrasts with black.

At every turn, the Model 10 is capable of identifying, extracting and contextualising vast amounts of detail – of both broad and fine varieties. So any concerns that you’re somehow missing out on information are laughable. If you take, for example, Bad Guy by Billie Eilish, the texture and timbre are superb. The bass sounds used in this recording are heavily processed, but are also quite diverse in origin, and the Marantz makes these variations totally obvious. Prodigious bottom-end grip – where attack and decay are concerned – means that rhythmic expression is confident, and momentum is always guaranteed.
The midrange is similarly articulate, whether it’s the close-mic’d double-tracked imprecations of Billie Eilish or the full-on, needle-in-the-red holler of Baby Huey during Listen to Me, the attitude and character of a voice is revealed just as readily as the mic technique of the singer producing it. And at the top end, the Model 10 balances attack, substance and brilliance in the most confident and, consequently, convincing manner.

Music is set within a soundstage that is deep and wide, highly organised and totally coherent. This Marantz has the ability to open up a recording to the point that its constituent parts are simple to identify and individualise, meaning every musician involved gets ample elbow-room in which to express themselves. The spaces between the various elements of the mix are clear – even when the stage is packed, as it is during **Talking Heads’ **live version of Life During Wartime. And yet the Model 10 is able to present the recording as a unified whole – a coherent performance, rather than a collection of discrete events. The ability to deliver music as a singular occurrence is much of what makes this such a thrilling device to listen to.
This amplifier’s character – such as it is – is never less than consummately enjoyable, and is often straightforwardly compelling. Its effortless reserves of solid power, complete lack of histrionics, and the calm authority and confidence it displays, make this precisely the sort of big integrated that I have coveted. I am just one major lottery win away from acquiring a Model 10 of my very own – so it’s only a matter of time!

The Verdict
Aside from physically installing the Model 10 in your listening room, there is nothing about this flagship Marantz integrated amplifier that is even close to being a hardship. It’s an extraordinarily assured and accomplished performer, and has an absolute stack of pertinent observations to make about any and all music you put into it. As such, if you’re looking for a powerhouse built like a battleship, then this is an essential audition.