“Dear audio enthusiast.” Those were the user manual’s introductory words, not “Dear audiophile.” I stared at them for a few seconds, letting the implication of that greeting sink in. I don’t know if it was meant this way—perhaps not—but for me, this was a whistle call announcing that the KLH Model Three ($1799.98/pair) was not intended for those obsessed with having the best at all costs; it was meant for people who dig quality sound, period. It was also meant for people who dig that vintage-American-speaker look.
At first glance, the Model Three—I’ll call it the M3 for short—may seem retro, but I’d argue that its look is more timeless than old-fashioned. I’m staring at the sample pair as I write these words, and they by no means look out of place in the contemporary decor of my listening room. Any idea in what year the M3 was launched? Can’t think that far back? Try 2022. It’s a brand-new model that’s based on an old speaker, the company’s Model Five, released in 1968, updated with modern technology, parts, and materials unavailable when the original design came out. Think of today’s R2R DACs, but, to me at least, more sex appeal.
Aesthetically, the M3 exudes character. Its wide-baffled, rectilinear aspect isn’t just timeless. It’s iconic. I felt that on first sight, at the 2022 Montréal Audiofest. Despite being short—technically, it’s a bookshelf speaker—it radiates stoic strength. Back-tilted on a black, powder-coated, 14-gauge riser base, its square-jawed chin juts out defiantly. It’s like the face of an Eastwood Western character, except that, instead of a cigar, there’s a flap at the bottom to pull off the magnetically attached fabric grille. As tempted as I was initially to yank those flaps—I have a great distaste for fabric grilles—that impulse changed quickly. I was enchanted by their silvery color (officially “Stonewash Linen”), and soon loath to remove them. (That never happens.)
With its beveled wood baffle and the chic pattern of its wood veneer, the M3 looked like fine furniture.
Another class of objects I don’t usually become enamored by, although I’m always happy to find in a, in fact—one with each speaker) might be the snazziest I’ve seen, let alone on a $1800 product. Sheathed in an attractive, letter-size envelope, it looked like a huge wedding invitation. Held in the hand, it feels like a quality print publication. Its content is also substantial. It is well-written, with an amiable, conversational tone, and informative. But why am I making such a big deal about a user manual? Because it’s your introduction to the company. It sets the tone for what will come next. A manual makes either a good or a bad impression. The M3’s made a good impression. It made me feel like I mattered to the company.
