The Roots guitarist takes a musical turn he’s long hinted at with his heavy-rock solo project, Hundred Watt Heart: a loud, funky power trio of the first order.
At a hotel café around the corner from 30 Rockefeller Plaza (also known more affectionately to New Yorkers as 30 Rock), “Captain” Kirk Douglas is taking a break between rehearsals for NBC’s The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon. He stirs his tea with the practiced calm of a been-there-done-that studio veteran, but even with 15 years under his belt as lead axe-slinger for the Roots, his eyes light up like a kid’s when the subject veers toward the first time he spied an electric guitar up close.
“I had a friend whose older brother played guitar,” he begins, smiling at the memory. “We’d go over to his house after school, and there was this beautiful instrument, a tobacco sunburst Les Paul, you know? I’d only seen them from afar in the local music shops, but the other thing is, he was also listening to KISS. And at that age, when you’re into superheroes like Spider-Man and Batman, you see these guys playing instruments that are like a spaceship or a cool sports car. Then it becomes something you can actually hold in your hands, and it just comes to life. That’s when I discovered the sound that it made, and then after that, with Van Halen and Ozzy [Osbourne], I’m hearing this sound taken to levels of mastery.”
Along the way, he discovered Sly Stone and Jimi Hendrix (“That was a big aha moment, like ‘Oh, you can be black and make heavy music, too?’”), and then Led Zeppelin, U2, the Smiths, the Cure, the Cocteau Twins, and many more. By the time he left his idyllic Long Island hometown of Holbrook for the urban jungle of New York City, Douglas had matured into a Strat-toting rocker, eventually adding his distinctive clean-picked sound to the trippy neo-psych washes of Binsey Poplars, a local band with a shoegaze fix.
After years in the trenches, in the summer of 2003 he became a full-blown member of the Roots, having joined the hardest-working band in hip-hop in the middle of their now-legendary Phrenology tour, which featured a rotating phalanx of guitarists that included Ben Kenney, Martin Luther McCoy, and Living Colour’s Vernon Reid. And it didn’t take long for Douglas to uncover one of the hidden bonuses of hitting the road with Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson, Tariq “Black Thought” Trotter, and the rest of the Roots posse: everyone shares an insatiable thirst for musical knowledge, no matter the genre.
“Joining the Roots was like being immersed in a fascinating article about the Roots, you know?” he recalls with a laugh. “I was a fan, and I’d read magazine articles about them, and then to be in the band, what was probably the most fun was going from one place to another on the tour bus, and hearing what Black Thought would be listening to, or what Questlove would put on the radio. I mean, that’s the same to this day. We still have those moments when somebody plays something, and it’s like, ‘Alright, what is that?’ Except now I don’t have to ask anymore, because I can just quietly Shazam it!”
Of course, it’s one thing to pull the basics of a song from an iPhone app, and quite another to learn it at the drop of a hat and play it on national television. Since 2009, when Jimmy Fallon first hired the Roots to be the house band for his stint on Late Night, Douglas estimates the band has learned literally hundreds of tunes, from classic rock to R&B to pop.
“You’re kept on your toes on a pretty consistent basis,” he says, “and that’s definitely helped my musicianship. I mean, I’m not a jazz player, but there are times when I have to mimic jazz. But what the show mainly draws from tends to be popular music throughout the years, and that’s something that I've been an unintentional student of my whole life. Luckily we’re in the same generation as Jimmy, so it’s rare that he’ll draw from a reference that we’re not familiar with. And what’s cool about the different members of the band being into different styles of music, there’s always somebody who’s more well-versed on a particular genre. When that happens, we follow that person’s lead. And that happens quite often.”
All this and more feeds into Turbulent Times, the debut album of Douglas’s own trio Hundred Watt Heart. Although the project has been percolating for years—it started around 2011 as a loose live unit called the Dust Rays, with Roots bassist Mark Kelley and drummer Ricc Sheridan from the Brooklyn-based rock trio Earl Greyhound—the music delivers a gut punch of immediacy in songs like the Zeppelin-esque “I Used to Be in the Circus” or the hypnotic, hard-driving anthem “Come Alive.” Douglas likes to refer to it, in a reverent nod to the album’s ominous title cut, as the record he had to make.
“Really it’s Paul who was a huge motivating factor for me to get anything done,” he says, referring to co-producer Paul Klimson. As monitor mixer for the Roots, Klimson brought a set of ears that could help capture the sound Douglas was chasing in his head. “It was during one of the breaks at the Tonight Show, he was like ‘Hey, we should work on something.’ Because there’s a whole album that we recorded before this, but I just never got it together [to release it]. I guess as time goes by, just feeling the fleeting nature of life, you feel more of a motivation to really do it. And at some point, Paul was like, ‘We should record again.’”
The band convened at none other than Electric Lady Studios to record the basic tracks for Turbulent Times. Douglas leaned heavily on his ’61 Epiphone Crestwood, which has its own nutty history as the guitar that Prince tossed and broke after performing his rocked-up classic “Bambi” on Late Night back in early 2013. Fittingly, that selfsame axe occupies a place of honor in the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s widely touted Play It Loud exhibition, while Douglas and HWH have immortalized the entire incident in the catchy, clean-picked song “Little Friend.” It’s easy to imagine Prince finding it all just a bit … smirk-worthy.
Captain Kirk recorded Hundred Watt Heart’s debut album, Turbulent Times, at Electric Lady Studios with Roots’ bassist Mark Kelley and drummer Ricc Sheridan, with Paul Klimson as co-producer.
“When I wrote that song, it seemed like a fitting way to retaliate,” Douglas quips. “But I hope it’s documented, and I hope people know that Prince did pay for it. He didn’t just do it and split, you know? And whether it was premeditated, or whether he was lost in the moment, it still obviously worked out far better than I could’ve imagined it would. That guitar had so much resonance with me before the Prince thing happened, and of course after that, it grew. That’s the fun thing about that exhibit [at the Met]. Every instrument in there has a story.”
In the end, Douglas’s work with Hundred Watt Heart documents a very personal journey, from the sky-touching riffage of “Uma” (dedicated to his daughter) to the quiet, bluesy introspection of “Our Year.” Just as almost every Roots project is in some way a concept album—and their next one, which will be their first full-length since the passing of the group’s visionary and charismatic manager Rich Nichols, promises to be a particularly heavy load—there’s also a guiding mantra that seems to link all the songs on Turbulent Times: gratitude.
“I’m just super thankful for it, and I’m fully cognizant of the fact that this album gets to people through my involvement with the Roots,” Douglas says. “That’s what got me into Electric Lady, and that’s what allowed me to fund it. I mean, I would be doing music regardless, but being in the Roots has allowed me to take my music to a higher level. Of course, I want to be the best band member I can be—that’ll never change. But what do you want to do outside of that? What do you want to use this opportunity for? I feel like doing my own project is the logical answer to that. It only makes what we do collectively as the Roots that much stronger.”
Did you rehearse any of these songs before you went into Electric Lady?
It was mostly banged out by the three of us, because some of the songs we had done in a live context, and there’s a few that me and Ricc had played together, but that Mark hadn’t heard. Just from our training on The Tonight Show, I knew he could come into the studio and pick it up relatively quickly. You know, it’s not like Gentle Giant or anything like that! [Laughs.] It’s not too intense arrangement-wise, and since you’re only dealing with three pieces for the most part, the gel happens pretty quickly.
So with songs like “Come Alive,” “Flesh and Bone,” and “Our Year,” Mark probably heard those for the first time when he came to the studio. We never played those live. The initial rhythm tracks took place over two days; it’s everything else that took time afterwards—guitar overdubs and vocals, and all that was done whenever time allowed, or whenever the Roots weren’t on tour and things were calm enough at home to get a chance to work.
Though he started out on Strats exclusively, Kirk Douglas doesn’t discriminate when it comes to 6-strings. Among his other favorites are his Trussart SteelTop shown here, and a repaired ’61 Epiphone Crestwood that Prince borrowed and smashed on The Tonight Show.
There’s a language that the three of you share already that maybe makes it a little bit easier, right?
Oh, yeah, definitely. That’s what I love about Ricc’s style of drumming. He’s very much about the feel of things, and Mark, when he plays, his bass lines are like singing. They’re both just so expressive and so funky, and I love that feel applied to heavier music, because in my opinion it makes it that much more heavy. And when it’s applied to guitar music, I just like the language of the three-piece, because I love guitar sounds and I love the sonic bath that can happen from loud electric guitar playing through a beautiful-sounding amplifier, and really just being immersed in that. I wanted to have an album that really celebrated that.
What is it like to work at Electric Lady?
You’re just in these hallowed hallways, you know? I don’t know if it’s over-simplifying it, but it seems like a place where Jimi Hendrix would want to make a record. I remember we were there a couple of years ago working on the next Roots record, and there are all these studios and hallways where you can duck in and duck out, so it’s a cool place to be if you have an idea. You can just go in the hallway with an acoustic and work on it. It’s the most creative environment you can imagine. I mean, one of the murals there looks like electric ladies operating the controls of a spaceship. That’s not an exaggeration.
You started out playing Strats, but now you’re a Gibson endorser and you have a signature SG. How did that relationship start?
Well, it depends on how far back you want to go. When I moved to Manhattan in ’95 or ’96, I was playing a Strat, and around this time, I started to get to know Vernon Reid. My first gig in the city was playing acoustic guitar with a drag queen named Hedda Lettuce. One night I was on my way to the gig and I saw Vernon randomly in the street. I told him I was going to see the Roots play afterwards, and he’s like “Oh, I’m actually sitting in with them.” And in the same exchange, all of which takes place in two minutes, he asks me, “By the way, when’s your birthday?” This is in July or something, and my birthday is in September.
So around then, I hear from Vernon again. He told me he had something for me, so I went up to meet him at his building, and he came out with a huge flight case. He laid it down and opened it up, and I see this goldtop Les Paul, maybe late ’60s. I’m like, “This is incredible!” And he’s like, “Well, this is yours now.” And he made it a point of saying, “Listen, I’m not trying to buy your friendship. If we never talk again, that’s totally cool. But one day, you may want to give this guitar to somebody.” I really couldn’t believe it, and he’s like, “You should really just take it before I change my mind!”
That’s incredible.
It was the most incredible thing that ever happened to me. I had this Les Paul now. At the time, I was really timid and shy, but I loved the way that I could get such a big, forceful tone from that instrument. It helped me overcome my shyness, because it sounded so commanding. It’s not like you can’t get that out of a Strat, but it seemed to cut through everything. It made it easier for me to come out of my shell. I had just started listening to bands like the Black Crowes and the Verve, but I never fancied myself a Les Paul player at all. It was like discovering another side of myself.
It’s a bit of a weird leap if you were playing Strats exclusively.
Yeah, that’s what I found—but it was fun. I had my Strat and I had my Les Paul, and I loved using them both and discovering what each instrument brought out of me. From there, when I joined the Roots, it felt more like a Strat type of gig. I didn’t really think of the Les Paul having a place there, and then somehow I got this Heineken commercial back in 2005 or so. The premise was I’m auditioning for a band, and I’m doing everything I can to get this gig. I’m supposed to be shredding, and then I throw the guitar on the ground and I light it on fire, much to the amazement of the people that I’m auditioning for, but then I put the fire out with a Heineken. I wasted the beer—major party foul in their eyes!
Anyway, in order to do that, I needed a guitar that I could burn. I had just met the people from Gibson, and they gave me one to burn and one to keep. Of course, I wound up burning both guitars because the director wanted to get different angles [laughs]. So I was like, “Hey, I would love a non-burned guitar,” and they were really accommodating. They made a copy of a Pro, like a black Les Paul with P-90s, which I still use on The Tonight Show. And one of the guitars that I burned is probably one of my main guitars that I use live with the Roots. Matt [Brewster] from 30th Street Guitars restored it.
And the relationship blossomed from there?
Yeah, once The Tonight Show happened, our mutual appreciation for one another grew, and my visibility grew, and I was able to acquire some of the guitars that I use nightly on the show. In 2006 or so, I happened upon that Epiphone Crestwood, and it works out perfectly that Gibson and Epiphone are sister companies, and I was able to bring my love of Epiphone into the spotlight with what happened with Prince. For a while I was using that Epiphone a lot with the Roots, too. When we covered Dylan’s “Masters of War,” I used that guitar a lot on those tours.
Guitars
’61 Epiphone Crestwood
’65 Gibson SG Junior
’69 Gibson CS-356
’89 Fender Telecaster Thinline
2013 Gibson SG Kirk Douglas Signature
2014 Gibson ES-335 Rich Robinson Signature
James Trussart SteelTop
’68 Gibson Hummingbird acoustic
Amps
Divided By 13 RSA 23 with 2x12 cab (with Hundred Watt Heart)
Divided By 13 BTR 23 combo
1978 Marshall JMP Master Volume with 4x12 cab
Supro Black Magick combo
Mesa/Boogie Stiletto Ace, Royal Atlantic, Lone Star Special, and Triple Crown TC-50 (with the Roots, and on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon)
Mesa/Boogie California Tweed 6V6
Philco tweed amp (Champ-style)
Effects
MI Audio Crunch Box Distortion
Durham Electronics Sex Drive
Durham Electronics Zia Drive
Empress Tremolo
Empress Nebulus
Fulltone Ultimate Octave
Wampler reverb
Line 6 DL4
JHS Moonshine
Ratin Blue Angel Overdrive
Dunlop Jimi Hendrix wah
MXR Phase 45 (original)
Keeley Monterey Rotary Fuzz Vibe
Boss TU-2 Chromatic Tuner
Strings and Picks
D’Addario (.010 set electric, .012 set acoustic)
Then in 2013, Gibson asked me if I’d like to do a signature guitar. I had a brown SG Custom with three pickups—one of the walnut ones—and I wanted to do an updated version. I think it’s based on a ’69 SG, but their take on it was to make it more of a dark cherry, and I love it. I’ve used that a lot. I mean, each of these guitars brings something a little bit different out of you. You’re attracted to different ones for different reasons, but it just makes it more fun because ultimately you’re trying to find songs in there.
And right now we’re talking about doing another updated version. It’ll have a different color and hopefully involve a volume knob closer to the bridge, which is something that I always liked about Strats, and what I also like about the Les Paul, so I can do fade-ins and violin-style effects in ways that it’s not so convenient to do on an SG. I have that modification on my prototype, where I have a global volume knob over everything, so hopefully we’ll include that on the next one.
Do you play the Crestwood on “Little Friend”?
Yes. That’s the guitar on that song. I also used it on “Uma.” That guitar has a very distinctive sound. I’m playing the rhythm part through a Divided By 13 RSA 23 amp, and I just love the way they interact together. But yeah, that guitar is very dear to me, so when it was initially broken, I was just concerned that I wouldn’t get to play it again, you know? I was excited that Prince played it and everything, but I was really concerned about the prospect of him being the last person to have played it. Luckily it didn’t work out that way.
How did you dial in the clean sound on “Little Friend,” and what were you listening for in your head?
Well, at the time I think I was listening to a lot of Unknown Mortal Orchestra. I’m a big fan of Ruban Nielson, so the types of chords that he uses are kind of present in that song. And you know Prince, he’s so many things, but one of the ways he gets to everybody is by being this master popsmith, so I thought it was fitting to represent him in a pop tune. And I guess because I was playing some of the Unknown Mortal Orchestra stuff, I wasn’t playing with a pick, but I also didn’t want to straight-up bite him, so I found a way of playing those chords that gives it a keyboard-y sound. Then when you add chorus and phasing, it just accentuates that keyboard sound—or it can move through an amp tremolo, like a Johnny Marr effect.
What were some of the other go-to guitars you used?
Well, there’s a Rich Robinson ES-335 that I used a lot on the record. That’s on the title track. There’s also an acoustic on that song—a ’68 Gibson Hummingbird. And the song “I Used to Be in the Circus” was done with my signature model Gibson SG. But you know, Rich and I actually traded signature guitars. I gave him my signature SG, and in return he gave me his, so I made sure I had it on the record.
Is there a solo on the album that you’re particularly proud of?
Well, let’s take “Uma,” because there aren’t that many guitar solos. That was actually recorded where Gibson had their showroom, on 54th Street between 9th and 10th.
Was that the old Hit Factory?
Exactly, the old Hit Factory. We actually tracked most of the overdubs and the vocals there, and I played the solo for “Uma” on one of those Supro Black Magick combo amps. I think that they had just come out at the time, and I was getting a particularly good sound with that and the Crestwood. I just wanted a solo that you could sort of sing. The melody just kept coming to me, and I love solos that are like songs within the song. Some things just feel good, like comfort food, and some of those bits in the solo that you might recognize from old blues songs just drive the point of the rhythm home. That’s why they’re there.
Was that a first take?
Well, that’s the solo that I always played live. When it came time to record it, I just wanted to get the best possible performance. It probably took a few takes to get it to the point where I was really happy with it. I wish I could say yeah, that was a first take, but I’d be lying to you [laughs].
There’s a thickness to the sound of this album that recalls ’70s hard rock—you know, some of the classic albums from Zep and Aerosmith. And I’ll throw Thin Lizzy and Nazareth in there, too!
It’s funny, the records that I played Paul [Klimson] for reference were pulling from that deck—just stuff that ultimately sounds good when it’s played loud, you know? I mean, these performances are steeped in loud volume, so the goal is to hear it the way that you hear it, and I don’t hear it softly. I can’t listen to it softly. Some kinds of music are just for that.
This album needs to be cranked.
Yeah, it’s definitely meant to be. I think that’s why we switched our name to Hundred Watt Heart. It suggests the power that I’m always searching for.
This raw footage of Hundred Watt Heart’s “Open Your Eyes” was taken by an audience member at the band’s record release show in Brooklyn in May. This track isn’t on Turbulent Times, but is a great representation of what the trio can do.
Captain Kirk details his Gibson SG signature model, which has his name on the tailpiece, a dark cherry finish, gold hardware, three ’57 Classic humbuckers, push-pull tone pots, and a TogPot control for the middle pickup.
The roots and jazz guitar virtuoso offers insights and guidance on how to make the most of the vintage sound of the company’s enduring RH, FH, and Rhythm Chief pickups.
What do the screaming tone of Elmore James’slide guitar, the dirty rumble of early Muddy Waters recordings on Chess, the smooth 6-string voice of Johnny Smith, and the warm melodies of Gábor Szabó’s eclectic repertoire have in common? DeArmond pickups. Since 1939, DeArmonds—in particular the company’s RH (round-hole) and FH (f-hole) models, and the Rhythm Chief 1000 and 1100—have helped define the sound of experimenters and traditionalists, depending on the era.
One of today’s most notable DeArmond players is the revered blues and jazz guitar virtuoso Duke Robillard, a deep student of vintage tone who has learned how to recreate many historic guitar sounds. We asked Robillard to share his expertise and experience with DeArmond pickups, which goes back to the mid-1950s, when he and his father built his first guitar for a school science fair. They took the neck from an old, acoustic Kay Kraftsman and cut a Tele-shaped body from two pieces of 3/4" plywood, inspired by the guitar James Burton played on TV’s The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet. Then, they recycled the Kay’s bridge and tailpiece, and ordered a DeArmond. “A week after that, I was in a band,” Robillard says.
DeArmond originally referred to its pickups as “guitar microphones,” as they were designed to amplify acoustic guitars without altering their organic tone. Of course, once plugged into an amp all bets on that were off, given the breakup characteristics of the small combos that were common at the time. The RH pickups, which James and Szabó, for example, used, are held in place by clamps. The FH and Rhythm Chief models are floating pickups, mounted by what’s often called the “monkey-on-a-stick” method. Essentially, the pickups are held in place by a metal bar that’s screwed to a guitar’s body, and the pickups can slide up and down the bar, like a simian might scale a tree, to find the sweet spot.
DeArmond’s Rhythm Chief 1100.
By the time Robillard founded the swing and jump blues band Roomful of Blues in 1967, he was playing a Gretsch Synchromatic archtop fitted with a DeArmond, in quest of the authentic vintage tones he heard on records from the ’30s, ’40s and early ’50s. “Then I went to a Gibson ES-125, where I ended up finding a way to make a Rhythm Chief 1100 work in the neck position,” he recounts. “Then I added a P-90 for the bridge. I didn’t want to use a guitar with a cutaway because I wanted every setback that the guitar players in 1940 had. That stopped me from going high on the neck all the time, which I think was a discipline that made me a better musician.”
“The cheapest model [the 1000] is really the best sounding one.”
Today, he uses a variety of DeArmond pickups on his guitars, but his favorite is the Rhythm Chief 1100, which has screwdriver-adjustable pole pieces. And he applies the tricks he’s learned over the years, like placing stick-on felt pads under DeArmonds positioned near the bridge, to raise the floating pickup to the correct height. He also notes there is an alternative to attaching the monkey stick behind the bridge. “A lot of jazz players would shorten the bar and have it flattened out, so you could screw it to the side of the neck. That became popular with guitarists who played Strombergs, D’Angelicos, and L-5s, for example.
“The cheapest model [the 1000] is really the best-sounding one,” he continues. “And you need to use a wound G string on an archtop, or it’s going to howl like crazy. It isless of a pickup than a microphone. You can actually talk into it, and I’ve done gigs where something went wrong with the PA and I’ve sung through the pickup.”
Robillard’s latest album, Roll With Me, includes “You Got Money,” played on his DeArmond-outfitted J.W. Murphy archtop.
These days his favorite archtop is a J.W. Murphy with an 1100 with a shortened bar attached to the side of the neck. He puts stick-on felt pads under the treble side to keep the pickup height as he likes, and to preserve the natural sound of the guitar. You can hear Robillard play his DeArmond-outfitted Murphy on “You Got Money,” a track from his new album, Roll with Me, on Bandcamp.
One more recommendation: “Use a small amp because that’s what they sound best with,” he says. “Small tube amps are what these pickups were made for, but if you’ve got a closed-back cabinet they tend to feed back on the low end. Keeping the bass side of the pickup lower helps with that. When you’re setting up the pickup, press down on the last fret and get the treble side high and the base side low, and then just balance it out till you get the right sound.”
Hand-built in the USA, this pedal features original potentiometer values, True Bypass, and three unique modes for versatile distortion options. Commemorative extras included.
This limited-edition pedal is limited to a 1,974-piece run to commemorate the year of DOD’s start, 1974. The original OD250 put DOD on the map as “America’s Pedal” and continues to be an industry favorite today. Each pedal will have a serial-numbered Certificate of Authenticity, a commemorative laser-etched pedal topper, several commemorative guitar picks, and multiple commemorative stickers.
Hand-built in the USA, the DOD OD250 – 50th Anniversary Edition pedal boasts Gain and Level controls using the original potentiometer values and tapers giving the control knob the feel and range that DOD enthusiasts love. A three-position toggle switch features the OD250’s classic “SILICON” mode replicating that original sound. The “Ge/ASYM” mode uses a vintage Germanium diode for asymmetrical even-harmonic distortion. “LIFT” mode cuts the diode clipping from the signal path allowing for a clean boost or even a dirty boost when the vintage LM741 op-amp is clipped at higher gain settings. The DOD 250 also features True Bypass to maintain the integrity of your guitar tone.
This limited edition OD250 is outfitted in a stunning metal flake gray finish with classic yellow screenprint in a callback to the original OD250 of the 1970s. An etched aluminum badge on each unit commemorates this occasion. The DOD OD 250 – 50th Anniversary is ready to take its place among the historic DOD pedal lineup.
When John Johnson and “Mr. DOD” himself, David O. DiFrancesco set out to make DOD Electronics in Salt Lake City, Utah 50 years ago, they had no idea how enduring their legacy would be. Now 50 years later, DOD Electronics continues to be at the forefront of pedal technology. The DOD OD 250 – 50th Anniversary Pedal is an exceptional testament to DOD Electronics’ long–standing success.
Retail Price: $250.00
For more information, please visit digitech.com.
Want to know how tubes shape your tone? Join PG contributor Tom Butwin as he breaks down preamp vs. power tubes, tone tweaks, and biasing, in this ultimate beginner's guide to tube amps. From Fender cleans to Marshall grit, learn how to unlock the full potential of your amp!
The Tube Store Guitar Amp Tube Packages
Here you will find brands like Fender guitar amps, Marshall amps, Vox amps, Mesa Boogie guitar amps, Orange amps, and many other tube amps listed. You will find replacement tube sets in different option levels ranging from Value to Premium to Ultimate. Purchasing guitar amp tubes couldn't be easier.
Tube Amp Doctor Tube Sets
Go and see the doctor: Find all of our products here: our newest product line of high-end Redbase tubes, our famous premium selected tubes, and the equipment we manufacture like our Class A Converters, the Bias Master or the Silencer. Furthermore our TAD reverb cans, condensers and of course the amp kits on boutique level.
Dynamic and pitch control of delay textures pave roads to new compositional and playing approaches in another unusual effect from Latvia’s foremost stompbox provocateurs.
Impressive control over parameters. Coaxes new playing and compositional approaches for players in a rut. High build quality.
Interrelationships between controls will be hard to grasp for many.
$329
Gamechanger Audio Auto Delay
gamechangeraudio.com
From the outset, it must be said there are easier ways to get a delay sound than using Gamechanger’s Auto Delay. But if simple echoes were the sole objective of this pedal, I doubtGamechanger would have bothered. As you may have gleaned from a listen to the company’sBigsby Pedal,PLASMA Pedal fuzz, orLIGHT Pedal reverb, the Riga, Latvia-based company rarely takes a conventional approach to anything they design or release. But what is “conventional” from a guitarist’s point of view, may be something quite different for musicians determined to bend notions of what sound and music are, how it’s made, and by what means.
By Gamechanger standards, the digital Auto Delay (along with its stablemates the Auto Reverb and Auto Chorus) is almost straightforward in concept. It utilizes existing concepts of dynamic delay, control voltage, and modular synthesis as essential parts of its functional underpinnings—which are not exactly unusual in stompbox design. Yet the way the Auto Delay’s functions interact make it feel and sound unique. And while not every player will want to take the time to explore the sometimes complex interplay between its functions, at its best, the Auto Delay prompts unorthodox thinking about the ways touch dynamics or pitch relate to the delay colors you can create, prompting unexpected compositional vectors and a kind of extra-dimensional relationship to the fretboard.
Beat of a Different Drum
Gamechanger’s path to building such unusual sound manipulation machines might seem a curious one when you consider that founder Ilja Krumins and his fellow founders Mārtiņš Meļķis and Kristaps Kalva are rockabilly heads with tastes that include the soulful earthiness of J.J. Cale. But the more accessible side of the Gamechanger design team’s musical interests likely informs the most approachable aspects of the Auto Delay. You can use it like you would any ordinary stompbox echo and take advantage of its three very distinct voices (tape, analog, and digital), copious 2-second delay time, and rangy tone control in order to fashion many compelling delay sounds. This is, needless to say, a vast underutilization of the Auto Delay’s powers.
Routing, Rearranging, and Raging Like a Lunatic
Though you can get lost in the Auto Delay (in good ways and bad), it isn’t necessarily the headache that its patch bay, LEDs, and many switches and knobs suggest. The idea behind the patch bay is simple: Routing a cable from one of the two dynamics or pitch automation input sockets to the level, tone, repeat, or time input sockets means that a change in, say, your picking intensity (dynamics) or where you play on the fretboard (pitch) increases or reduces the value for the parameter you linked to the dynamics or pitch socket. Even if you’ve not been indoctrinated in these methods via modular synthesis, it’s not as complicated as it sounds, and trial-and-error experimentation yields intuitive understanding of these interactions quickly.
The tape, analog, or digital voice can drastically reshape the tone and response of interactions. But so will the fast, rise, and gate dynamics modes, which determine the nature of the dynamic response. Setting thresholds for the dynamic and pitch response is easy. You simply hold down the “auto” footswitch or the bypass footswitch and twist the respective knobs until you reach the desired threshold, which is indicated by the adjacent LED. Like the other functions, getting a feel for how these thresholds work within your playing style takes time. As you might guess, we’ve really only discussed the most fundamental functions here. But in addition to these, you can use alt mode to assign different values to the secondary knobs and toggle between primary and secondary knobs using the auto switch. You can also manipulate the stereo spread or control the clock via MIDI.
The Verdict
The Auto Delay is not for the faint of heart or impatient. Grasping the interrelationships between the controls takes time. In fact, understanding how those interrelationships feel and respond musically will be more challenging for some than understanding how they work conceptually— which, while not elementary, can be sussed out with a careful read of the manual. But when you do find a rhythm and flow with the Auto Delay it can be richly rewarding and even meditative.
Because it can reshape your relationship with the fretboard and your sense of touch, this is a great tool for extracting yourself from ruts, whether in technique or mood. And if you’re a musical tinkerer, the Auto Delay can provide much of the same satisfaction and sense of discovery you experience working with a synthesizer—particularly if you enjoy working in the hardware realm rather than on a computer screen. One should consider the scores here as especially subjective and on a sliding scale. The Auto Delay’s many sonic and functional idiosyncrasies will be nectar to some and poison to others. And more than most pedals, you should probably have a firsthand experience with the thing before you decide how and if it fits your musical objectives. For many restless players, though, the Auto Delay will be a deep well of musical provocation and ideas.