In the pantheon of classic stompboxes, few loom
as large and legendary as the Fuzz Face. Ivor
Arbiter’s Sound City music shop—which catered
to Swingin’ London’s rock royalty—sold the first
Arbiter Electronics versions in 1966. And in a
matter of months, the curious circular stomper
was a fixture in the stage rig of the still rising
Jimi Hendrix. Jimi’s use of the Fuzz Face alone
would have cemented the legend of the flying
saucer-shaped fuzz (which Arbiter very practically
patterned after a microphone stand base). But it
would also become a favorite of David Gilmour in
both germanium and silicon transistor-based incarnations
(check out his gloriously saturated sounds
on the
Live at Pompeii DVD to see how sweetly
a silicon Fuzz Face can sing) and in more recent
years, part of Eric Johnson’s tone vernacular.
Joe Bonamassa, who’s no stranger to the sources
of sweet sounds, jumped on the Fuzz Face train
in 1995 when—well aware of the pedal’s role in
the sounds of the aforementioned masters—he
stumbled upon a ’70s model that became an
indispensible part of his arsenal. In the years
since, Dunlop, who have made the Fuzz Face
since the ’90s, worked with Bonamassa to create
the ultimate Fuzz Face for his searing blues style
and humbucker-centric approach. The end product—the handwired, germanium JBF3 reviewed
here—is tailor-made for any guitarist interested in
walking Bonamassa’s blues-rock path. But it can
also expand the fuzz and distortion options of any
rocker who’s interested in a singing, but aggressive
and growling fuzz.
Gleaming Like a Newly
Minted Penny
Players who have a soft spot for the elegant
symmetry of the Fuzz Face’s cone shape will be
stopped dead in their tracks by the Bonamassa
edition. The gleaming copper shell will repel
some purists and thrill more flash-fascinated fuzz
freaks. Either way, it’s certain to be the shiniest
pedal on your board—at least until it patinas in
the fashion of Bonamassa’s much-travelled prototype.
The blinding copper shine aside, there’s little
to differentiate the Bonamassa signature fuzz
from a stock model. There’s a knob for Fuzz, one
for Volume, and an on/off footswitch—that’s it.
The real differences are inside. Any fuzz user
who’s despaired at the claustrophobic guts of
digital boxes and smaller analog units will be
delighted by the JBF3’s interior. Like a vintage
Fuzz Face, it’s as uncluttered as the engine
compartment of a ’62 Chevy with a straight six.
You can discern the route of every wire, and
every component—including the array of transistors,
capacitors, and resistors (laid out just
like an Arbiter original) and the British-built
Omeg potentiometers used for the Volume
and Fuzz controls—is accessible and in plain
sight. And in keeping with the period-correct
construction and design, this is a strictly 9V
battery-powered affair.
Barkin’ and Growlin’
If you’ve only experienced a contemporary Fuzz
Face, the JBF3 will be a distinct sonic departure.
It takes a little work to find the pedal’s
sweet spots, and setting the controls to 12
o’clock and expecting aural bliss can leave you
a little underwhelmed. I gave the JBF3 a run
with a Fender Jaguar with Seymour Duncan
Hot Jaguar pickups, a humbucker-equipped
’90s Les Paul Studio, and a 1986 E-Series
Fender Stratocaster running through a silverface
Fender Twin Reverb and Vibro Champ, and a
Fender Bassman 4x10 reissue. And with each
guitar/amp combination the high-noon settings
on the JBF3 sounded less full and aggressive
than what you’d expect from, say, similar settings
on a Big Muff or a Rat.
But if the JBF3 does anything, it rewards
the tinkerer—especially the knob twiddler
unafraid of getting a little aggressive and dirty
with their tone. That doesn’t mean the JBF3
won’t do damage or lend grit and girth to your
sound at less wide-open settings. Setting the
Fuzz to maximum and dialing the volume way
back can give you a great strangled and stinging
mid-’60s garage-punk fuzz—particularly
when cranking a Les Paul through a little amp
like the Vibro Champ. Even the Strat and Jag
bridge pickups could be coaxed into a delightfully
filthy David Hidalgo-inspired sax-like
zone by using the same Volume and Fuzz settings,
rolling off the pickup tone and kicking
up the volume and bass on the Vibro Champ
and Bassman.
More middle-level Fuzz Face settings gave
me sweet growling fuzz that worked great with
the Les Paul and the hotter single-coils on the
Jaguar for chugging rhythm work. You’re still
not into a sweetly singing lead zone at these
levels on the JBF3, though playing through a
higher-wattage amp like the Twin and adding
some treble at the amp end of things will start
to get you there.
The real payoff from the JBF3 comes when
you’re willing to crank the sucker wide open.
Bonamassa himself uses this pedal with the
Volume and Fuzz set to maximum. David
Gilmour got his gritty sustain in the early ’70s
using similar settings on his vintage silicon
Fuzz Faces. And it’s here that I found the JBF3
speaks with the fire its flashy shell suggests it’s
capable of.
At a rehearsal with two guitars, a grinding
Hammond-style organ, and drums, our other
guitarist ran the Duncan-equipped Jaguar
through the JBF3 and the Twin. Each time
he kicked on this copper monster, the amp
seemed to grow threefold in size and power.
The Fuzz Face not only lent a ton of kick, it
brought the Jaguar and Twin’s basically clear
tones alive with a muscular grit and dimension.
Sustain became available in whatever quantity
and duration a phrase or passage required. And
singing stacatto picking was replete with detail
and a cool balance of note-to-note clarity that
was surprisingly creamy for all the husk in
the signal. It’s a unique and balanced tone for
chords that, to my ears, was a welcome deviation
from the super-smooth and sustained violin
tones a lot of players look for in a cranked,
vintage-flavored fuzz. It’s also an interesting
convergence of tones that would be considered
typical of both germanium and silicon Fuzz
Faces of old. If you’re a Gilmour fan who can’t
decide whether you’re feeling the germanium
tastes of
Ummagumma or the silicon shades
of
Dark Side on any given day, this Fuzz Face
might be your ticket.
The Verdict
The JBF3 marks a welcome return of many of
the qualities and quirks that made the original
Fuzz Face a fave of the greats. It’s not as forgiving,
smooth, or harmonically even as many boutique
pedals that claim the Fuzz Face for inspiration.
But to this reviewer’s ears at least, that’s
where the magic of this particular Fuzz Face
lies. Even the sweetest sounds lurking within the
JBF3 are colored by a little grit that can grab you
by the throat, cut through a mix, and snarl with
attitude. It’s equally at home with hot humbuckers
or single-coils, particularly if you’re willing
to explore the potential of a guitar’s tone knob.
Subtle it is not. But this Fuzz Face can certainly
sing. And if you’re willing to stake out some tone
turf on the rougher side of town, this pedal will
pay your adventurism back handily.
Buy if...
the dirty-but-smooth flavors and
occasionally chaotic nature of a
vintage Fuzz Face float your boat.
Skip if...
super-smooth woman tone and
harmonically uniform distortion is
your cup of tea.
Rating...
