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It’s probably a sign that things in general are becoming weird when things at Devialet become less weird. If you can’t rely on a company that’s established an impeccable reputation for producing singularly strange and utterly unmistakable products to produce said singular, unmistakable products, well … what can you rely on?

With hindsight, the trajectory that’s brought us to this point is obvious. Devialet announced itself to the world at large with the remarkable Phantom wireless speaker and all its variants—a product for which the description “wireless speaker” is altogether too mild and unspecific. The technologies it incorporates are bespoke, the industrial design inside which they sit is unique, and its performance is entirely unambiguous.

With the launch of the Dione soundbar, though, Devialet lowered itself to producing a mild variation on a theme. An expensive and robust-sounding variation, admittedly, but a variation nonetheless.  

And now here’s the Mania. Crazy name, uncrazy product. Try as it might to suggest Mania is a wireless speaker distinct from all the others out there, the facts are undeniable. Mania is a small wireless speaker, remarkably inexpensive by Devialet standards, light on the visual drama Devialet has until now been so fond of, and pitched into an area of the market where the competition is (a) fierce and (b) acclaimed. Rather than standing at one remove from any nominal competition, the Mania finds itself right in the thick of the action.

At 193 x 176 x 139 millimeters (H x W x D), the Mania isn’t quite a sphere, though it does its darndest to pretend it is. At first glance it looks like nothing more than a miniature version of the old, all-conquering PV1 subwoofer by Bowers & Wilkins (and there are far less credible devices to resemble). It’s available in “light grey,” “deep black,” or as an “Opéra de Paris” edition, which is basically “light grey” with gold accents rather than chromium silver. 

No matter the finish you decide on, Mania features a ribbed, plasticized strip “inspired by high-end watch straps” around its circumference. It’s moulded to form a carrying handle at the top, and there are some physical controls recessed into either side. This strip also features a button to defeat the mics (Mania is compatible with Amazon Alexa voice assistance) and a USB-C input for charging the battery. (Devialet claims Mania will last 10 hours between charges when played at “moderate” volume levels, which is perhaps the first time the company has used this word in relation to one of its products.) There’s a little light to tell you what Mania is up to, and a four-light strip indicating remaining battery life. And there’s an optional “Mania Station” charging plinth available, if you find the idea of cables a turn-off.

Devialet intends for Mania to deliver what it describes as “360-degree stereo sound.” To this end there are a couple of exposed bass drivers, arranged in a push/push layout (they fire against each other) in an effort to minimize cabinet resonance, augmented by four full-range aluminum drivers laid out at the top of the cabinet and hidden beneath acoustic cloth. 

As well as the careful physical positioning of these six drivers, Mania uses its four integrated mics to assess its position and adjust its output accordingly. And it has motion sensors to let it know when it’s been moved, so it can retune itself when necessary. An IPX4 rating means it can happily be moved into areas of mild moisture-based peril too. Each bass driver is in receipt of 38 watts of Class D power, and each of the four full-range drivers gets 25 Class D watts of their own.   

As far as wireless connectivity goes, it’s difficult not to be just a little disappointed in Mania. Bluetooth 5.0 is all well and good, but compatibility with just SBC and AAC codecs simply isn’t. Any number of half-decent smartphones can stream using higher-quality aptX or LDAC codecs, and any number of rival speakers at this sort of money are happy to accommodate them too. Mania is Wi-Fi enabled, of course, and from there Spotify Connect and Apple AirPlay 2 are available. What’s not available, though, is any information regarding the Devialet’s DAC arrangement or native resolution. 

In addition to Amazon Alexa and the few physical controls, Mania can be operated using the Devialet app (free for Android and iOS). It’s a nice-looking interface, certainly, but it’s very restricted in its functionality. Aside from volume and playback control and selecting source input (online or Bluetooth), there’s two-band (!) EQ adjustment, a switch to enable “active stereo calibration,” the ability to add Mania to an existing multiroom setup … and that’s about it. The Devialet’s most obvious price-comparable rivals from Bang & Olufsen, Bowers & Wilkins, Naim, et al. all have more comprehensive control apps (as well as offering higher-quality Bluetooth streaming too).   

For all that Mania seems a slightly un-Devialet product as far as looks and specification are concerned, though, the company’s ethos comes strongly back into focus when the speaker starts doing its thing. Connected to an Apple iPhone 13 via AirPlay 2, and with music ranging from John Coltrane’s “My Favourite Things” to Nation of Language’s “This Fractured Mind,” via “Don’t Leave Me Alone With Her” by Sparks playing, the Mania could really only be a Devialet product. And in quite a few ways, this is a good thing.

Certainly the outright scale and the low-frequency presence of the Mania is remarkable. This is a fairly small speaker, but it creates a large and coherent soundstage. And, as is the case with all Devialet products in our experience, it generates more bass than seems feasible. It’s controlled pretty well, with not too much blurring into or out of bass sounds, and when the music demands it the Mania can hit implacably hard. There are some listeners for whom “bass” is shorthand for “excitement,” and they’re the ones at whom the Mania is squarely aimed.

The authority the speaker has over its own low-frequency output means the Mania can express rhythms with a fair bit of confidence. Only the most testing patterns or tempos can cause it to trip over its own bass activity, and even then only a little. There’s considerable dynamic headroom available here, too, and consequently the Devialet can switch from “loud” to “louder” to “louder still” without any problems whatsoever. The idea that the Mania might start this process at “quiet” is fanciful, though. 

The drive for all-around stereo sound is pretty successful too. Once the Mania has had a chance to assess its position relative to any boundaries, it’s capable of confident, consistent sound that offers a fair degree of separation. The point source is always obvious, of course, but the Devialet has a wider and yet better-focused presentation than many wireless speakers at this sort of money. And when you take it outdoors, where boundaries may be so distant as to be irrelevant, the assertive nature of the Mania’s sound means it can make its sonic presence felt without difficulty.

Problems, such as they are, stem from the same source as so many of the positives: bass, and the emphasis on it. Throughout the frequency range, the Mania is a detailed listen with plenty of pertinent observations to make about activity in the midrange and in the treble area. It shapes information above the low frequencies with just as much positivity as it does the low frequencies themselves—but its attitude is one of tolerance rather than engagement. Everything—by which we mean everything—plays second fiddle to That Bass, and so it follows that the Mania’s overall sound is bottom-heavy and unnatural.

For some people, of course, this will be just fine. But for listeners who are interested in realism, in the actual literal fidelity of the sound they’re listening to, the Devialet’s wonky rendition of their favorite music seems unlikely in the extreme to prove satisfactory. 

Mind you, very few are the battery-powered speakers that can fill a space with sound even if that space turns out to be quite a large garden—so it’s not as if Devialet Mania ownership is without its advantages.