The original case was stamped aluminum. Thin sheets, bent into shape, spray-painted black. Standard stuff. The problem? You could flex the front panel with your thumb. The volume knob sat on a pot that wasn't properly supported—hence the wiggle. And that hollow sound when you tapped it? Air gaps between the panel and the internal frame.

First thing: we switched to 3mm aluminum instead of 1.5mm. Sounds simple, but it doubles the weight and completely changes how the case feels. Pick it up now and it has heft. Not heavy—substantial. There's a difference.

The front panel kept flexing even at 3mm because of how it was mounted. We added support ribs on the back side—six of them, running vertically. You can't see them, but they stop that flex completely. Press anywhere on the panel now and it's solid.

That volume knob problem? The pot was mounted to a thin metal bracket that had way too much give. We designed a proper mounting block — 10mm thick aluminum, machined to fit the pot exactly, bolted through the front panel with four points instead of two. The knob still turns smoothly, but there's zero play. Feels completely different in your hand.

The case finishing changed too. Original was spray paint — looked okay until you got close, then you saw the texture wasn't quite even. We went with powder coating. Smoother finish, more durable, and it has this subtle depth to it that spray paint just doesn't have. Not glossy, not completely matte. Something in between that reads as expensive.

There's this moment when someone picks up a piece of audio equipment for the first time. First three seconds, they've already decided if it's worth the asking price.
They're not thinking about it consciously. But their brain is processing: weight, temperature (metal feels different than plastic), how the surfaces feel, whether anything moves when it shouldn't, how it sounds when you set it down.
Get any of those wrong and you've lost them.
We did a test after the redesign. Set the old version and new version side by side, no labels, same electronics inside. Had people pick them both up and guess which one cost more.
Old version: averaged $400 in price guesses. New version: averaged $1,800.
Same guts. Different case. Massive difference in perceived value.

You want to know if that expensive amplifier is actually well-built or just expensive? Here's what I look for:

Pick it up. Does it feel dense, or does it feel hollow? Quality cases have weight that's evenly distributed. Cheap ones feel front-heavy or back-heavy.

Tap the top panel with your knuckle. Solid thud? Good. Hollow ring? Sheet metal that's too thin or not properly supported.

Grab any knob and try to wiggle it side to side (gently—don't break anything in the store). It should turn smoothly but not move in any other direction. If it wiggles, the potentiometer isn't properly mounted. That's usually a sign they cut corners elsewhere too.

Look at the gaps where panels meet. Are they even? Consistent all the way around? Or are they wider in some spots than others? Inconsistent gaps mean loose tolerances in manufacturing.

Run your finger along any edges. They should be smooth, maybe with a slight chamfer. Sharp edges mean they didn't deburr properly. That's a finishing step that costs almost nothing—if they skipped it, what else did they skip?

Check how the back panel attaches. Is it held on with a dozen small screws, or four big ones? More attachment points, more rigid the structure. Fewer points means more flex, which means more vibration, which actually matters in audio equipment.
The finish itself—look at it under light from different angles. Does the texture stay consistent, or can you see variations? Powder coating looks consistent. Cheap spray paint shows variations.

Tierraline's problem isn't unique to audio equipment. I've seen the same thing in test equipment, computer hardware, professional tools. Great engineering, garbage packaging.
The people making these products are engineers, not designers. They think about signal integrity and component selection and thermal management. All critical stuff. But they treat the case like an afterthought—something to protect the electronics and maybe look decent.
They miss that the case isn't just protection. It's the interface. It's every single interaction the user has with your product that isn't about the core function.
Your customer never sees the circuit board. They see and touch the case every single time they use it.

Tierraline's return rate dropped to almost nothing within three months of switching to the new cases. Their dealers stopped complaining. And their sales actually went up—same price point, same marketing, just a better case.

The owner told me something interesting. He said several customers mentioned the redesign in reviews, specifically calling out how solid it felt. But the electronics hadn't changed at all. It was entirely the case.

That's the thing about physical products. People think they're buying features and specifications. But they're actually buying how something makes them feel. And how something makes them feel is mostly about the details you can touch.

We design and manufacture cases for electronics—audio equipment, measurement tools, control systems, whatever needs to be in a box. Not interested in doing a hard sell here, but if you're in that situation where your electronics are solid but the packaging is letting you down, that's specifically what we do.

The approach is always the same: figure out what's making it feel cheap, fix those things, don't add cost where it doesn't matter. Most of the time it's not about expensive materials—it's about using the right materials in the right way.

If your product is good but people aren't perceiving it as good, that's usually a case problem. And it's fixable.