CRMs with email marketing built in

EspoCRM has been around long enough to have stopped chasing fashions, and its pricing reflects a philosophy the rest of this category has largely abandoned: you get everything, and what you pay for is scale. All three hosted tiers advertise the full feature set and every extension. What separates Basic from Ultimate is file storage and how many records you are allowed to keep.

That makes the arithmetic unusually simple. Basic is US$15 per user per month with a hundred thousand records and a three-user minimum; Enterprise is US$25 with ten million; Ultimate is US$69 with no limit. Underneath sits the open-source edition, which you can install on your own server and run without a licence fee.

The cost is the seat minimums, which make this a poor answer for somebody working alone: the cheapest way into the vendor's cloud is three seats whatever your headcount. Self-hosting removes that and replaces it with an operational burden you carry yourself. Integrations are respectable rather than remarkable, and an external API is on every tier. On data control it is as strong as software gets, because you run it on your own hardware, and the value case is simple arithmetic.

Bigin exists because its own vendor's flagship CRM is too much for most small businesses, and the company decided to say so with a product rather than a discount. What you get is a pipeline, contacts, activities and the integrations of a very large platform, packaged into something a two-person business can set up in an afternoon.

On setup and value it is hard to argue with. There is a free tier, Express costs US$7 a seat each month on annual billing and Premier US$12 — figures that sit at the bottom of this field while still including Gmail and Outlook integration, automation, a developer API and documented data migration. Very little here is withheld to make a cheaper plan feel thin.

The cost is deliberate shallowness. This is a product designed not to grow past a certain size, and the honest consequence is that outgrowing it means changing products rather than changing tiers. For a business that will always be small that is a feature; for one that expects to be forty people in three years it is a migration scheduled in advance.

What defines this product is a pricing decision rather than a technical one. There is one plan at US$15 per user per month, it includes everything the company makes, and there is no tier above it holding the useful parts hostage. Unlimited contacts and companies, unlimited pipelines, custom fields, user permissions and support are all simply in the price.

That makes setup and value unusually easy to reason about. You do not have to model which tier you will land on in eighteen months, because there is only one, and the trial runs thirty days without asking for a card. For a very small business that has been burned by a ladder priced to be climbed, the absence of a ladder is the feature being sold.

What you give up is depth. Automations and an API both exist and are documented, so integrations are a real possibility rather than a dead end, but the product is a well-kept contact database with pipelines attached rather than a sales platform. Because there is only one plan, whatever is missing is missing at every price — there is no tier to climb to when you outgrow it.

Odoo draws its free line somewhere nobody else does. Rather than capping users or records, it gives you one application at no cost for an unlimited number of people. If the application you pick is the CRM, a company of forty can run its pipeline on Odoo Online without paying anything, which is a genuinely different offer from the two-user free tiers elsewhere in this field.

Above that, pricing is per user for all applications together: EUR 19.90 a month on yearly billing for Standard, or EUR 29.90 for Custom, which adds on-premise deployment, the Studio builder, multi-company support and an external API. The core is open source, so self-hosting is a real route and the data can sit on machines you control.

On value that is hard to argue with: an unlimited-user CRM at no cost. The catch is that the free tier is a doorway rather than a destination. The moment a second app is useful — invoicing, helpdesk, projects, all of which sit right there — the price becomes per user for everything, and the step is deliberate. There is also the configuration burden that comes with any suite: this is more product than a small sales team needs, and making it fit takes work that a single-purpose CRM does not ask for.

Capsule is one of the few entries here that seems entirely comfortable being small. There is a contact database, a sales pipeline and a task list, and the product does not spend much effort persuading you it is a platform. For a business of two or three people that mainly needs to stop losing track of conversations, that restraint is the feature.

The free tier is unusually honest about what it is. Two users, two hundred and fifty contacts, five custom fields and one pipeline — small numbers, but they include connecting a Gmail or Outlook account, which is the thing free plans in this category normally hold back. Moving to Starter at US$18 per seat raises the contact ceiling to thirty thousand and adds a shared mailbox, email templates and direct integrations.

The cost of that restraint is that depth arrives late. Workflow automation, multiple pipelines, project boards, access controls and the reporting that produces a forecast all begin at Growth, at US$36 per seat, and above Advanced at US$54 there is nowhere further to go. The tier descriptions are refreshingly specific about who each plan is for — one to five employees, then small businesses with sales teams — which makes choosing between them a shorter conversation than usual.

Attio starts from the observation that most CRMs decide in advance what a customer relationship looks like, and that the shape rarely fits. Its answer is a flexible data model: objects you define, attributes you choose, and relationships between them that the product does not second-guess. For a company selling something that is not a straightforward B2B deal, that is the whole appeal.

The pricing follows the same instinct. There is a free tier with no expiry, Plus at US$35 per user per month and Pro at US$79, and the things that make the product interesting — custom objects, automation, single sign-on — are not quarantined at the top. A published migration service exists for bringing records across.

The tradeoff is that you are doing the modelling. A product that will not decide what a deal is has, by construction, handed that decision to you, and a team that wanted a pipeline out of the box will spend its first week designing one instead. The entry price above the free tier is also toward the upper half of this field, and the top tier is quoted rather than listed.

Nutshell's distinguishing decision is granularity. Where most of this category offers three tiers and hopes you round upward, it publishes five, from US$13 up to US$79 a seat a month, so the gap between what you need and what you buy stays narrow. Annual billing takes several dollars a month off each of them.

Alongside that sits a commitment stated in plain language on the pricing page: no seat minimums and no maximums. That matters more than it sounds. Several products in this field will not sell fewer than three or five licences, which quietly doubles the bill for a team of two, and Nutshell has removed that arithmetic entirely.

Scale headroom runs further than the price implies — federated login and a logged history of edits, on top of that absent seat minimum. The cost is cognitive rather than financial. Five tiers, each with a different combination of capability, plus separately-billed add-ons, is a lot of comparison to do before you can price a decision — and the vendor publishes a cost calculator precisely because the answer is not obvious. Single sign-on, an audit log, quoting and documented migration are all present; working out which rung each one sits on is the work.

Krayin is an open-source CRM built on Laravel, and that framework choice is most of its argument. Extending a CRM usually means learning the vendor's own extension model; here it means writing PHP in a framework that a very large number of working developers already use, against a codebase you can read in full.

What follows from that is data control of the strongest kind available: records on hardware you own, with no third party holding a copy. There is no licence cost, the application runs on infrastructure you provide, and customer records never leave machines you own. For a development shop that wants a CRM shaped precisely to a process, starting from readable code in a familiar framework is a shorter path than configuring somebody else's product.

The cost is everything a vendor normally absorbs. No hosted plan is published, so provisioning, updates, backups and security are yours from the first day. It is also younger and less proven than the established open-source projects in this field, with a smaller community and less accumulated documentation, which matters most at exactly the moment something breaks.

Pipedrive is built around one idea carried further than most: a sales pipeline is a board, and everything else is subordinate to moving cards across it. That focus is why the cheapest plan feels usable rather than crippled. You get leads, deals, contacts and a calendar in one workspace, and you can bring your existing records in from a spreadsheet or another system without paying more.

The cost of that focus appears on the second tier. Full mailbox sync, workflow automation and forecast reports are all held back to Growth, which more than doubles the per-seat price. A team that wants its email in the CRM — which is most teams — is not really choosing the entry plan, and it is worth pricing the tier you will actually end up on.

Scale headroom is the quiet strength: an administrator gets role-based access and a change record, and no ceiling on records is published anywhere. What holds up well is the surrounding infrastructure. The API is documented endpoint by endpoint and readable before you buy, the catalogue of integrations is genuinely large, and pricing is published in full at every tier rather than hidden behind a form. Data control is ordinary rather than bad: a published privacy notice and a separate processing agreement, but no choice of where your records are handled.

Close is built for a specific job: outbound sales where somebody picks up the phone. Most of this category treats telephony as an integration you buy separately and wire in. Here the dialler, the call recording and the email sequences ship inside it, which means a rep works a list without leaving the record they are working.

The ladder is published in full and unusually long at the bottom — Solo/Essentials at US$9 a seat on yearly terms, then Growth at US$35, Scale at US$99 and Enterprise at US$139. Two-way email sync, custom objects and single sign-on all appear rather than being reserved for a negotiation.

The catch is that native calling is not free calling. Minutes are metered apart from the licence, and the free trial carries only five dollars of calling credit, so the number on the pricing page is a floor rather than a bill. For a team that lives on the phone the arithmetic still works; for a team that mostly emails, a large part of what you are paying for goes unused.

Salesflare is built on a complaint rather than a feature list: sales people do not maintain a CRM, so a CRM that depends on being maintained is a CRM full of stale records. Its answer is to construct the history automatically from the mailbox and calendar you already use, so the contact, the company and the thread of what was said are there without anyone typing them.

The pricing is straightforward and published in both dollars and euros. Growth is US$29 a user a month on an annual plan and Pro is US$49; paying monthly makes those US$39 and US$64. Forecasting and a documented migration path come with the subscription instead of being sold beside it.

The cost is that automatic is not the same as complete, and the model suits some sales motions far better than others. A relationship-led business with long threads gets a rich record for free; a high-volume outbound team working from lists gets much less from the automation and still pays for it. There is also no free plan, and the lead-search credits that fill in missing addresses are sold separately from the seat.

Insightly is aimed at a specific shape of business: agencies, consultancies and implementers, where the deal closing is the start of the work rather than the end of it. The pipeline looks like any other, and then a won opportunity becomes a project with milestones and tasks against the same account record, which is the part the rest of this category leaves to a second subscription.

What supports that is a fairly complete set of machinery. Custom objects, workflow automation, click-to-call, email sync, SAML single sign-on and an audit log all appear across three published tiers at US$29, US$49 and US$99 a user a month, and there is a documented REST API rather than an integrations page pointing at an automation platform.

That machinery is why scale headroom is high: field-level access control and a change log both sit on published tiers. The cost is that two products in one box take longer to make useful than either would. Setup is a configuration exercise — objects, pipelines, project templates and permissions — before the thing does anything you could not do in a spreadsheet, and the entry price at US$29 a seat sits above the middle of this field. A team that only ever needed the sales half is paying for a delivery half it will not open.

Salesmate's pitch is bundling. Where much of this field sells a pipeline and expects you to buy telephony, sequencing and enrichment from somebody else, Salesmate folds calling and outreach into the subscription and publishes integrations as included at no extra cost. For a team that would otherwise be reconciling three invoices, that is a real simplification.

The tiers are published at US$23, US$39 and US$63 per user per month, which places it in the middle of this directory on price as well as on positioning. The capability curve is correspondingly even — you are not being asked to jump a chasm to reach the features most teams need.

The tradeoff is that middle positions are hard to love. It is not built around a single conviction — no strong opinion about the telephone, the inbox or the data model — and bundling is a commercial argument rather than a design one. The Enterprise tier is also quoted rather than published, and the vendor notes that enterprise onboarding packages start at US$1,999 — a figure worth knowing before that conversation starts.

NetHunt belongs to the small group of products that answer the CRM adoption problem by refusing to be a separate place. It renders inside Gmail, so records, pipelines and the correspondence that produced them share one window, and nobody has to be persuaded to log in anywhere new.

What distinguishes it from lighter tools in the same space is structure. This is a real record model with fields, views and pipelines rather than a clever arrangement of labels, and the entry tiers are listed at US$24 and US$34 a seat, with month-to-month rates of US$30 and US$42.

The thing to weigh is the top half of the price list. Business and Business Plus show monthly rates of US$60 and US$84 but are quoted rather than published for annual billing, so a growing team cannot price its own future without a conversation. And like every Gmail-native product, the dependency is absolute: there is no version of this for a company running Microsoft, which settles the question before any feature comparison begins.

Salesforce Starter exists because the company's main products cannot be bought the way small businesses buy software. It is packaged as a suite with sales, service and email in one place, published at US$25 per user per month, and — unusually for this vendor — you can sign up for it without a conversation. There is a free suite beneath it as well.

What that buys is a foothold in the largest ecosystem in the category. The partner network, the integration catalogue and the availability of people who already know the platform are all without equal here, and none of that goes away as the business grows.

The thing to weigh is what happens next. The published price carries a note that transaction fees apply, so the seat rate is not the whole cost, and everything above Starter returns to the sales-led model the rest of the vendor's range uses — quoted, negotiated and frequently partner-implemented. Starter is a genuine self-serve product; it is also the last rung on this ladder that behaves like one.