Like so many pedals that became legends, the Klon Centaur spawned legions of copies and imitators that possess unique virtues all their own. You can now count Keeley’s new Manis among the Klon-inspired stomps that took a great idea and shaped something uniquely awesome in the process. As far as klones go, it’s a great one. Tested alongside a very accurate klone that I use as a benchmark in Klon tests (it was A/B tested with a real-deal Klon once owned by my colleague Joe Gore), the Manis was virtually a mirror image, and often a more satisfying one for its slightly less compressed voice.
One of the most practical attributes of good Klon-style pedals is the relative ease with which they pair with very different rigs. The circuit’s inherent ability to span mellow boost and ferocious, chugging distortion while maintaining dynamic response and detail makes it an invaluable tool for coping with luck-of-the-draw backlines and adjusting to venues of varying size. With options to use germanium transistor clipping and a bass boost, however, Manis multiplies this multifacetedness considerably.
The Deadly Manis
Germanium clipping diodes are, of course, among the most critical parts of the original Klon’s architecture, and the Manis sounds beautiful and accurate in germanium-diode mode. But when germanium transistors take over the clipping function, the character of the pedal changes perceptibly. The Manis is audibly and tangibly less compressed, there’s more air and space in the output, and it’s easier to summon extra grit from your signal by changing pick intensity. You might hear a little less focus in germanium transistor mode, which can adversely affect the pedal’s ability to slot in a busier mix. But in isolation, the germanium transistor clipping sounds and feels much more awake and dynamic. The ability to switch between the two also makes the Manis more versatile when stacking with fuzz and other overdrives, and merely flipping between clipping modes could significantly recast the personalities of Big Muffs, Fuzz Faces, and even other klones without diluting their essence.
“The Manis is audibly and tangibly less compressed, there’s more air and space in the output, and it’s easier to summon extra grit from your signal by changing pick intensity.”
Switching in the bass boost, which gives the Manis a 3 dB kick one octave below the circuit’s usual cutoff frequency, also adds a significant breadth to your available tone spectrum. It can lend warmth to the most authentically Klon-like voices in germanium diode mode, or lend an almost Marshall-like sense of oomph to a signal without compromising much in the way of dynamics.
Ultimate Klon Killer? The Keeley Manis Overdrive Demo with John Bohlinger | First Look
The Verdict
If the Manis was merely a klone that hewed close to its inspiration, it would be an admirably authentic example of the breed. But the bass boost and transistor clipping modes make the Manis a potentially invaluable survival tool for any player that faces changing amplifiers, venues, and recording situations, and needs to extract the most utility possible from every pedal. It might well be the only klone you ever need.
Andy Powers’ influence on the substance and style of Taylor guitars has been truly significant. Over his 14-year tenure leading Taylor’s design efforts, he’s introduced entirely new bracing patterns and body profiles—never easy when working for a legacy brand in a tradition-oriented industry. In crafting the new Gold Label 814e Koa Super Auditorium, Powers might have created Taylor’s prettiest body shape yet—a blend of sweeping curves, airy lines, and graceful proportions that, like a river stone, appear as if shaped by water.
Stylish, for sure. But there’s substance in abundance, too. The ever-tinkering Powers reconfigured the V-Class bracing Taylor introduced in 2018 for the new Gold Label 814e guitars. There’s also a new glue-free long-tenon neck—significant news considering how large Taylor’s NT neck looms in the company’s identity. What’s interesting about those moves is that Powers was keen to bake a visceral sense of vintage-ness into this guitar. The Gold Label 814e doesn’t sound much like the old American flattops I run into, but it’s distinguished by sweetness, clarity, balance, and expressive range.
Presence and Proportions
The Super Auditorium body shape that debuts with the Gold Label 814e is a close relative of Taylor’s lovely Grand Auditorium shape, which, at 30 years old, is now a foundational part of Taylor’s line. In fact, the 814e Koa is just 3/16" longer and 1/4" wider than a Grand Auditorium. More obvious is the absence of a cutaway, and the symmetry of the curves highlight lovely, just-about-perfect proportions. It’s a beautiful guitar, but it’s probable the increase in dimensions has more to do with Powers chasing a specific sound. Certainly, more size could align with aspirations to the antique tone glow of a vintage American flattop.
The collective effect of the body dimensions (which live in a sweet spot between grand Concert and dreadnought size) and the modified V-Class bracing means the Gold Label 814e’s voice is distinctive rather than overtly “vintage” (a broad, unspecific term at best). At the risk of disappointing Powers and Taylor, I think the Gold Label 814e exhibits many classically Taylor tone attributes to excellent effect, and the snappy midrange and relatively even string-to-string balance at times evoke an acoustic that’s been EQ’d and compressed by a recording engineer. But what will resonate for many players is the way the Gold Label 814e complements the modern facets of its voice with toasty bass from the 6th string and a little less top-end brilliance from the 1st and 2nd strings—qualities you’re more likely to hear in a guitar with 70 years of toil baked in. In the Gold Label 814e, those tonalities are bookends for a broad midrange that is very present and very Taylor, and whether that whole suits your playing style has a lot to do with how much you can leverage its impressive dynamics. Heavy-handed strumming confirms that the Gold Label 814e is capable of being very loud. It also highlights a pronounced midrange that, for all the guitar’s string-to-string balance, can be a bully if you have a heavy touch. If your approach is more varied and sensitive, though, the extra volume becomes headroom and the midrange becomes a chrome shine set against a dusty desert patina. It’s a killer recipe for fingerstyle. A light touch can still generate detailed, complex overtone pictures, while the high headroom accommodates and inspires high-contrast high-intensity counter phrasings. There’s a lot of room to explore.
Grease the Runway
Playability is, as expected, a strong suit. The action feels extra-easy and encourages hyperactive playing styles as well as languid chording that utilizes the instrument’s sustain, range, and rich pianistic qualities. The 1:21 ratio Gotoh 510 tuners feel ultra-precise, making moves between alternate tunings easy and enhancing an already strong sense of performance stability. Flawless fretwork, meanwhile, feels fantastic and underscores Taylor’s super-high quality. A fatter neck profile certainly would have suited me, and even though you can feel the tiniest hint of a V-profile bump at the neck contour’s apex, it still feels a touch thin. Even so, a lack of hand fatigue and a sense of fleetness in the fingers make the trade-off worthwhile.
Appropriately, for a guitar that costs $4.8k, the Gold Label 814e is a feast for the eyes, but in a sneaky, not-too-extroverted kind of way. The Hawaiian koa back and sides, which are a $300 upcharge from the rosewood-backed 814e, are, along with the Continental inlays, the flashiest element of the instrument. And though the high-quality lumber elsewhere in the guitar (torrefied spruce top, ebony fretboard, mahogany neck, ebony tuning keys) all feel luxurious, the deeply figured koa adds an extra splash of bespoke flash. Seasoned Taylor spotters will also note that the lines of the koa sides are not cluttered with the controls of the Expression System 2 electronics, which have been replaced here by an excellent L.R. Baggs Element VTC system that utilizes controls tucked inside the soundhole.
The Verdict
Though the 814e Koa aspires to 1940s and ’50s American flattop vintageness, it doesn’t always deliver on that count. For the right player, though, the instrument offers a unique and complex voice with a super-wide dynamic range and soft-focus bass and treble tones that temper the midrange. The new glue-free, long tenon neck can be reset fast and inexpensively should that time ever come, which might make the sting of the hefty $4,799 investment feel less risky—at least in maintenance terms. Yep, it’s really expensive. But consider, too, the joys of beholding the 814e Koa’s graceful curves all day—you might be able to justify the cost as a musical instrument as well as art.
Wanna talk about rabbit holes? Well, few are deeper or darker than one that awaits when you compare the virtues, shortcomings, and construction peculiarities of Big Muffs. Make no mistake, I love the things. And studying real, audible differences among Big Muff variants is fun. But I would happily take back many hours I’ve spent contrasting Ram’s Head, Triangle, and Sovtek versions, and their clones—all to arrive at the conclusion that they all sound awesome in their own right. One dude that has spent about a million hours dissecting Muff tone minutiae is EarthQuaker Devices founder Jamie Stillman. Hisefforts to reverse engineer his pal Dan Auerbach’s unique-sounding Sovtek Muff begat theHoof, which remains among EarthQuaker’s most enduring and successful products.
Just as Auerbach’s Muff possessed a certain something missing in otherwise identical Sovteks, so it was with a Version-6 (V6) Electro-Harmonix Big Muff used by James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem for his band’s fuzz-bass tones. As 40-something pedals will, Murphy’s V6 Big Muff got a bit fussy for tour life, so Stillman and EQD were tasked with crafting a replacement. But like so many vintage pedals that have become notorious and legendary, Murphy’s V6 Big Muff is distinguished by construction inconsistencies that made it a quirky and unique thing.
EQD’s interpretation of this formula—made manifest here in the Chelsea Low End Fuzz Driver—is a Big Muff-style voice that leans more Ram’s Head than Sovtek. In strictly sonic terms, that means lots of grind, presence, and a delectable balance between air and aggression that make the Chelsea soar. Like a vintage V6 Big Muff, it features a tone-bypass switch which removes the tone pot entirely. The midrange-heavy result is appealing and impressive in its own punky way. But the rangeful tone control, and the oxygenated sounds that live in its treblier zones, in particular, are highlights of the pedal’s vocabulary that make it distinctive.
As the “Low End Fuzz Driver” handle and Murphy’s historically bass-oriented usage suggest, the Chelsea’s tone profile is a great tool for crafting gnarly, nasty, bottom-end sounds that have a trace of almost saxophone-like honk and grit on top of mere mass—a sound composite that gives bass and baritone riffs lift and definition. But as sweetly and swaggeringly as the Chelsea gels with bass, guitarists will find it a source of rich and blistering tones, and a distinctive alternative to early Triangle-, Ram’s Head-, and V6-style Big Muff sounds.
Incremental improvements yield a deeply satisfying whole in a Tele for all seasons.
Fender Player II Modified Telecaster SH & Stratocaster Demos by John Bohlinger | First Look
As the slightly unwieldy name for this new series suggests, Fender is not averse to regular, incremental tweaks and refinements to core and legacy instruments. Some such improvements get guitar folk riled up more than others. But the refinements and overall execution in the new Player II Modified Telecaster SH are almost exclusively lovable. It’s musically flexible, stout, precision crafted, and satisfying to play. And the sturdy build, plentitude of sweet sounds, and the accessible price add up to a satisfying sum—a guitar capable of fending off competitors striving to beat Fender at their own game in the $1K price range.
The tight fit-and-finish I’m used to from Fender’s Ensenada, Mexico, factory is plain to see everywhere. In an almost black shade of purple/indigo called dusk with rosewood fretboard and black pickguard, it’s a beautiful guitar with a moody personality. Design elements that are felt rather than heard, however, reveal a sunnier disposition. The neck profile is a variation on the C profile Fender uses in scads of guitars, but the satin finish and more contoured fretboard edges make it feel extra fast and lived in.
There’s a lot that’s exciting and satisfying to hear, too. Any good Telecaster in the single-coil bridge/humbucker neck pickup configuration has a high potential for magic. So it goes here. If there is any difference in core tonality between a vintage Telecaster bridge pickup and the Player II Modified Tele bridge unit, it’s that the latter might feel a little beefy in the low-midrange and maybe just a little fuzzy along the edges where vintage Telecasters shatter glass. I heard these qualities most via a vintage Vibrolux Reverb, which made the Tele bridge pickup sound a touch bellowy. The pickups are a fantastic match for an AC15 though, and most folks will hear tones squarely, identifiably, and often delectably along the Telecaster spectrum regardless of amp pairing. The pickups are also a great match for each other—both in combinations of the bridge and humbucker and the bridge and split-coil humbucker. The possible combinations are compounded by rangey pots and a treble-bleed circuit that keeps guitar volume-attenuated settings awake with top end. If you’re keen on working with the Telecaster SH’s volume and tone controls and split-coil capabilities, it’s remarkable how many sounds you can extract from the Telecaster SH and an amp alone. With a nice overdrive and a little echo, the world is your oyster.
At a click just north of a thousand bucks, the Player II Modified Telecaster SH is in a crazy-competitive market space. But it is a guitar of real substance, and in this iteration, features meaningful enhancements in the pickups, bridge, and locking tuners that offer real value and utility.
Park and fly with this mid-focused but very vocal wah honoring Bowie’s right-hand man.
Dunlop Mick Ronson Wah - MAIN by premierguitar
Mick Ronson—lead ripper, lieutenant, riff-dealer, and arranger in David Bowie’s Spiders from Mars—was such a cool amalgam of ’60s British guitar voices. He had Keith Richards’ sense of rhythm and hooks, Jimmy Page’s knack for evil-sounding ear candy, and a preference for loud, simple rigs: Les Paul, Marshall, Tone Bender, Echoplex, and, most critically, a Cry Baby wah. You know the sound of this Cry Baby. It’s everywhere on early 1970s Bowie records—“Queen Bitch,” “Moonage Daydream,” and “Width of a Circle,” to name a few—and it put discernible fangs and venom in his playing. There are many such sounds in Dunlop’s excellent new tribute, the Mick Ronson Cry Baby.
Ronno was not a wah player in the “wocka-wocka” sense. He primarily used the pedal in a fixed position or with subtle longer sweeps. His favorite wah for the job was an early Cry Baby built in Italy by Jen. These wahs were notoriously, shall we say, “unique” from specimen to specimen. And without Ronno’s original on hand for comparison, it’s hard to know how close the tribute gets to nailing it. But there is an unmistakable mid focus that mirrors and invites Ronno’s biting phrasing—particularly in Bowie’s live recordings from the time. The new pedal’s sweep starts out squawky at the heel-down position, where my other vintage-voiced wahs just sound foggy. That midrange emphasis and presence remains through its sweep, suggesting the Ronson wah’s singing range is narrow. On the contrary, the many distinctly different vowel sounds within that range color the base tone more strongly than many wahs with a smoother, bassier taper. That profile lends itself to great control and multiple bold, distinct sounds—particularly when an angry gain device is situated upstream.