When it comes to vintage electronics, those contemporary to their release tend to see them as outdated, while the next generation has a different point of view. Here, our columnist dives deep into the subject.
Let’s begin this article with my memories from when I was a teenager, in the late 1990s and early 2000s. My father was an electronics wizard. He once built a 1000-watt tube pirate radio, and also my first guitar amplifier from a modified boombox. One day, while exploring his garage, I stumbled upon a dusty box labeled “Echo Device for Vocal.” To my surprise, I found two Matsushita MN3005 bucket-brigade delay integrated circuits (ICs) inside. As I’d been delving into the guitar world and its cults at that age, I felt like I had discovered a treasure! Even as early as the ’90s, analog delay was a vintage holy grail.
Afterward, I approached my father and said, “Dad, look, I found a made-in-Japan analog delay with authentic bucket-brigade delay ICs. Are you not using it anymore?” He simply replied, “Made-in-Japan is no good. You can use it if you want.”
Reflecting on that conversation, I realized something—we were two different generations living in distinct social circles. For me and perhaps my friends, Japanese-made gadgets from the ’80s were masterpieces, especially in the category of electronic musical instruments. Today, their value has surpassed their functional essence. In Indonesia, for instance, people buy made-in-Japan Boss products, not just to use, but as an investment! This also applies to products from Ibanez, Yamaha, Roland, Korg, and other vintage Japanese manufacturers. On the other hand, my father considered them to be items he no longer wanted, either due to his perception of their quality or because they were outdated. This generational and social-circle paradox slowly pulled me in, especially concerning the eternal debates like through-hole vs. SMD/SMT, silicon vs. germanium, vacuum tube vs. solid-state, vintage vs. modern, and, of course, analog vs. digital!
“In Indonesia, for instance, people buy made-in-Japan Boss products, not just to use, but as an investment.”
One day in 2019, I performed at an event after a long hiatus, and the event organizers asked me what equipment I would need onstage. I simply requested two sets of guitar amplifiers, specifically the Roland JC-120, as I wanted to crank up the volume. But the organizers were surprised by my request. One of them mentioned that I was the only performer who had asked for guitar amplifiers in the past few years. I thought it was just a joke, but I realized their honesty on the day of the event. Among the bands that performed, mine was the only one using conventional guitar amplifiers. It was the first time I truly witnessed a band performance where all the guitarists had adopted the “amp-less” stage concept. They tended to use amp simulators, whether digital or analog, and were perfectly comfortable without the presence of traditional guitar amplifiers, which have always been an emblem of rock ’n’ roll. Of course, the majority of the guitarists performing were 10 to 15 years younger than me. Now, I understand my father’s mindset from 25 years ago a little better.
Humans are a species that continues to evolve throughout time, always discovering new things, especially in technology. Let’s narrow the discussion down to musical instruments and related equipment. I can’t help but wonder, if super-compact DSP multi-effect stompboxes had been created in the 1950s, would we have the series of debates I mentioned earlier above? As a pedal effect builder, I strive to remain neutral. Nevertheless, I must be open to all possibilities regarding technological advancements.
We all live in a world that keeps on turning. Perhaps 20 years from now, my child will find NUX pedals in my storage and say, “Dad, you have a holy grail pedal from NUX; my friends will envy me!” Who knows? Well, after this, I will visit my father to enjoy a cup of coffee with him while listening to dangdut music from his super-slim smartphone. Now, I’m starting to think about hoarding and storing SMD/SMT components. Who knows, maybe my grandchild will consider them a holy grail 50 years from now.
How our noise-crazy new pedal columnists developed a rad take on recycling with their Telepunk Fuzz.
Meet the Telepunk Fuzz. This is one of Sehat Effectors’ best-selling devices. Let that sink in, because it’s unconventional—to put it lightly—and very cool. Here’s how it happened.
Back in 2017, I met my buddy Keket Soldir. We have the same interests in making disturbing pedals and going to flea markets to hunt for cheap treasures. We have very little money, so we’re looking for things that we can use for pedal enclosures. We’ve found lots of medical tools, military tools, old office tools, and one day, I found a wall intercom phone. I told Keket, “Let’s make a pedal with this!” and he laughed at me. “That’s not going to happen,” he said. “The shape is weird and there is limited space inside. I think we’re not going to make it unless we modify the shape.”
I brought it home anyway, opened it up, cleaned the inside, and put a simple 1-knob overdrive circuit within. It worked! But that was just the beginning.
The phone itself is a ’70s/’80s Japanese wall intercom, which was very popular in many offices in Indonesia back then. Discarded variations are cheap and easy to find. There are many different brands: Aiphone, Matsushita (named after the founder of Panasonic), National, etc. But the Aiphone was the most popular and is still easy to find, probably because it was the cheapest brand back then. There are also different models and shapes, depending on the year of production. The ’70s to early ’80s models usually come with a carbon microphone with a simple germanium preamp and amplifier driver, and the newer models usually come with a more modern electret microphone with an improved preamp circuit in it. Actually, almost all Japanese electronics with audio drivers from that era come with the same boards. Perhaps there was one major factory in Japan which produced and distributed that board for various brands, just like Matsumoku in Japan’s 1960s and early ’70s guitar-building history.
“Let’s make an effect pedal from this phone without losing its identity as a telephone.”
The enclosure itself is made of hard plastic (often called “atom plastic” in Indonesia) with sharp edges and a metal cover plate. We also salvage tons of vintage parts from these phones, such as germanium transistors, Matsushita film caps, and sometimes we pull lots of white- and blue-striped diodes (MA150, MA161, and 1S1588), which were also used in early Tube Screamers and other vintage ’70s/’80s Japan-made effects.
The Telepunk Fuzz idea itself is: “Let’s make an effect pedal from this phone without losing its identity as a telephone.” For the first example, we already had an oscillation fuzz called the Moisture Fuzz, and we just put that circuit into the telephone enclosure. But when we decided to keep making more, we added an Atari punk console for weird modulation. Today, there are three circuits in our Telepunk Fuzz: an oscillation fuzz, the Atari punk console (which is a lo-fi synth circuit), and the microphone preamp. Also, if you unplug the guitar, it’ll work as a standalone noise box, thanks to the oscillator’s and punk console’s ability to generate ridiculous amounts of noise on their own.
The device’s mic and instrument inputs—honestly, you can plug anything into either one—are separate from each other. But the mic input has its own preamp and volume control, which then stacks into the fuzz circuit. The instrument input feeds the punk console and can be mixed into the overall output signal to create a harmonic tremolo texture.
So, that’s the story behind our Telepunk Fuzz, although we think there are many possibilities for more telephone-based effects units in the future. Luckily, there are also still a lot of those telephones available for very little! And who knows what other home we might find for a circuit at a flea market or pawnshop? We’re also thinking about a more pedalboard-friendly version, so the device can enter the larger stompbox universe. Who knows where these noisy Fuzzes from a time long ago in a galaxy far away—the pre-digital zone—will end up on their sonic journey?
Busted stompbox? Here are tips from a tech on when to repair and when to despair.
It is a cruel world out there, and no quarter is offered to your pedals, no matter how carefully you proceed from gig to gig. Just like an amp or guitar, your pedalboard can become an instrumental part of what you do as a player. But broken pedals are natural given they’re instruments that you step on, so getting them repaired is something we’ll all need to confront. While we’d love to have nothing wasted and everything working, whether or not something can be fixed reasonably is not always cut and dried.
The value of the pedal is an important factor. Since the cost of labor and expertise is so high, it can be very easy for repair costs to quickly exceed the value of the thing being repaired. For example, there’s a multitude of guitar effect pedals available between $30 and $40. Should one of the footswitches in those pedals fail, a replacement footswitch goes for 25 percent of the pedal’s entire value, and that’s before any work has been done to make an actual repair. At typical labor rates, spending 15 minutes fixing a broken footswitch can bust the bank on a budget pedal. As sad as it is, some stuff just isn’t worth having it be fixed professionally.
Conversely, a great candidate for repair is something like a vintage Nobels ODR-1. The values have skyrocketed, so there’s no question it’s worth fixing. Since minimizing labor is critical, it is triply good that they are simply constructed, made from mostly sourceable components, and contain relatively basic analog circuits with widely available circuit diagrams. But there are high-value pedals that aren’t as tech-friendly. Our benches have seen pedals plagued with complication and no documentation, constructed from unobtanium parts and assembled like a house of cards. In such cases, a technician will need to disassemble the box, study the circuit long enough to understand its operation (despite the fact it is not currently working), deduce what is malfunctioning, and spend time sourcing replacement parts. The tech will then have to decide how little to get paid for all that work, since after developing this plan, the client can simply say no to the repair if the price is too high. Repair work is brutal. Bake your technician some cookies.
Repair work is brutal. Bake your technician some cookies.
A horde of critics will complain that no one should be able to charge the hourly rates that most repair work demands. Most of them have not had the misfortune of actually running businesses. The unvarnished economics is that a busy tech can choose to either work on something at a discount, or pass and move on to something that will put food on the table. The obvious answer means that there’s a great deal of gear out there that, hypothetically, could get fixed, but, practically, can’t get fixed.
If you have a new production pedal that is malfunctioning, I highly recommend first contacting the manufacturer. Most manufacturers, particularly boutique builders, are extraordinarily helpful when it comes to getting their customers’ pedals working again. As the creator of your device, they will have all of the experience and documentation to make quick repairs and a vested interest in giving you an optimum experience. Most builders recognize that a repair can be an opportunity to take a situation from bad to good, since going the extra mile serving a customer may more than make up for any bad feelings associated with a pedal that suddenly stopped working properly.
For pedals made by larger manufacturers, check and see if there are any authorized service centers. Companies like Line 6 often outfit local repair shops with the equipment and resources needed to repair their products. This can save you the hassle of sending your pedal across the country or the world for repair. These types of shops are often limited to major markets, but if you live in or near an urban area, you may have access to local repair.
DIY is another great avenue! There is a ton of information out there, and a person who learns how to replace footswitches, jacks, and potentiometers will be able to fix 50 to 75 percent of all the broken pedals in the world. But if you’ve no interest in self-sufficiency and want to keep your maintenance costs down, buy effects that are simple circuits or buy from companies big enough and benevolent enough to provide easy-to-access long-term support. May the odds be ever in your favor!