Better Sound, Charged Phones and Cleaner Paws | Vol. 8

Most speakers are designed to vanish into a shelf, presumably out of embarrassment at being a plastic rectangle whose only hobby is collecting dust. The Harman Kardon Aura Studio 4 goes in the other direction: a transparent dome, visible-looking drama and lighting themes with names such as Galaxy and Rainy Night. It has committed to being noticed, which is at least more honest than pretending the living room is not already full of cables and dubious ornaments.

There is proper audio hardware behind the theatre. Harman Kardon specifies six 40 mm mid-high-range transducers alongside a 130 mm subwoofer, and a dynamic frequency response of 45 Hz–20 kHz at -6 dB. We think that makes the Aura Studio 4 the rare statement speaker that has been given a credible job beyond looking excellent in the gap between a houseplant and a stack of unread books.

Bluetooth 4.2 and multipoint support for up to two devices make it suited to the ordinary shared-room negotiation: one person’s phone, another person’s podcast, both people acting as though pairing a device is a matter of constitutional importance. It also enters standby after 20 minutes without operation, with a documented control combination to disable that feature for anyone who dislikes appliances making decisions on their behalf.

The awkwardly important footnote is the selected listing’s EU Type C plug. In Britain, that is not a charming continental flourish; it is a practical compatibility issue to sort before this handsome glassy object earns its place on the sideboard. Provided that is acceptable, our verdict is straightforward: the Aura Studio 4 is the most persuasive kind of unnecessary-looking thing, one with enough specified substance to justify the space it occupies.

Phone charging has become a small administrative career. There is the cable you meant to pack, the socket occupied by somebody else’s laptop, and the low-battery warning arriving just as the train becomes a tunnel. We chose the Anker MagGo Power Bank 10K, model A1654, for people who would rather carry one useful object than conduct a daily search party for a plug.

Its headline is refreshingly concrete: 10,000mAh capacity, Qi2-certified wireless charging of up to 15W, plus a single USB-C port for input and output. That is enough information to know what it is without a launch video involving mountains, astronauts or a man charging his phone beside a lake for reasons nobody can explain.

The more interesting bit is the collection of small concessions to normal life. The smart display gives charging information rather than leaving you to interpret a row of tiny lights like an anxious Victorian. A built-in foldable stand also makes sense for a desk, a hotel bedside table or the café table where the available surface is already hosting a coffee, a laptop and three receipts.

There is a firm compatibility boundary, though. The UK version is listed for iPhone 16, 15, 14 and 13 only; iPhone 12 owners should not attempt to negotiate with the wording. For the right iPhone, this is a thoughtful power bank that takes the edge off cable chaos while adding a few genuinely useful extras.

Mud on a dog is largely inevitable. Mud on the pale rug five minutes after the walk, less so—at least in theory. The Dexas MudBuster Portable Dog Paw Cleaner takes this very modern domestic nuisance seriously enough to give each paw its own tiny washing station.

The medium blue model is an easy-grip tumbler, 6 inches tall and 4 inches wide, with soft silicone bristles inside. Its method is beautifully literal: add water, put in a muddy paw, twist, dry that paw, then carry on until all four have had their administrative appointment. No grand philosophy, just a container devoted to the consequences of owning an animal that regards puddles as a personal calling.

We think that bluntness is exactly its appeal. A towel may still have a role in the household drama, but the MudBuster gives the wet-and-muddy part a defined process rather than an increasingly desperate series of dabs by the front door. The catch is equally defined: this medium version is intended for paws 2.5 to 3.5 inches wide, so it is not a universal peace treaty between dogs and flooring.

As a complementary bit of pet kit, it earns its place by being satisfyingly narrow in purpose. There is something faintly ridiculous about a dedicated paw tumbler; there is also something rather sensible about not asking the hallway to absorb every walk as a lifestyle choice.

There is a peculiar modern indignity in boarding a plane with excellent wireless headphones, then discovering that the seat-back screen is still waiting for a 3.5 mm plug and a time machine. The Twelve South AirFly Pro 2 exists for that moment, plus the equally niche but entirely real treadmill, gym bike and older television predicament. We think that is enough justification for a small electronic mediator.

It connects a source with a standard headphone jack to Bluetooth wireless headphones, so the airline’s entertainment system can speak to your AirPods rather than forcing you into whatever brittle wired set was last found in a drawer. More usefully, it can pair two headphone sets to one source. Shared listening is suddenly possible without the traditional tangle of splitter cables and accidental elbowing.

The Pro 2 is not merely a travel widget that lives at the bottom of a bag until one annual flight. TX mode sends wired-jack audio to wireless headphones, while RX mode receives Bluetooth audio and outputs it to wired speakers or an AUX-IN port. That gives old speakers, car inputs and similar stubborn hardware a route into the present, without pretending every household audio problem deserves a new sound system.

At 56.6 mm by 29 mm by 11.2 mm and 16.5 g, it is a notably small bit of kit, with more than 25 hours of listed battery life. USB-C charging and automatic reconnection to the last two devices reduce some of the ritual, although pairing remains a task rather than sorcery. Our verdict: the AirFly Pro 2 is a pleasingly specific answer to the annoying gap between wireless headphones and the wired world that refuses to die.

There are easier ways to listen to music than feeding a small plastic rectangle into a dedicated machine. There are also easier ways to make toast than owning a sourdough starter, and yet civilisation persists. The transparent FiiO CP13 cassette player exists for the particular person who has tapes, wired headphones and a healthy suspicion of frictionless convenience.

We think its appeal is less about pretending cassette tape is sensible and more about acknowledging that it is wonderfully tangible. The CP13 is a two-track stereo, playback-only player with a fully analogue audio circuit, a JRC5532 operational amplifier and a conspicuous 30.4 mm pure-copper flywheel. In transparent form, the internals are part of the event rather than something politely concealed behind black plastic.

This is not a Swiss Army knife for obsolete media. There is no recording and no auto-reverse, so a full album side eventually requires the ancient physical act of turning the tape over. Still, it supports Type I, II, III and IV cassettes, has a standard 3.5 mm headphone output and puts volume on a physical knob. The basic proposition is admirably direct: cassette in, headphones on, decisions reduced to which side of the tape you are currently ignoring.

The rechargeable 1,800 mAh battery is specified for at least 13 hours of headphone playback under FiiO’s test conditions, and charging is stated at around three hours with a 5 V, 2 A adapter. At approximately 120 × 88.3 × 31.8 mm and 310 g for this transparent listing, it is a deliberately substantial bit of audio nostalgia rather than a featherweight trinket. We chose it because it makes a niche habit look suitably ridiculous and oddly dignified at the same time.