
Iriondo has been a member of the Italian alt-rock outfit Afterhours since 1992. Here he’s playing a custom Epiphone SG Custom at an Afterhours show in 2015.
The Italian maestro talks about the spiritual inspiration he draws from his Basque roots, as well as channeling his endless guitar-tinkering passions into his latest musical project, Buñuel.
Italian guitarist and sonic adventurer Xabier Iriondo has an affinity for the Basque term, metak—which literally means, “pile”—and he often incorporates it into the names of his various projects. His custom-built experimental guitar is the Mahai Metak (or “table pile”). Some of his unconventional musical collaborations also include the term, as in PhonoMetak and PhonoMetak Labs. And Sound Metak was the name of the eclectic shop he ran for about a decade in the early 2000s, which sold everything from boutique guitar pedals to shoes. (Check out his Instagram profile, which, in addition to pictures of his amazing collection of guitars, pedals, and vintage amps, is also a showcase for his impeccable taste in footwear).
“I am half Basque,” Iriondo says. “And these words—like “mahai” and “metak”—come from the Basque language. A metak is when you take the grass that you’re cutting, and you make a mountain of this grass in the garden. In the past, you gave this metak to the cows.” Another traditional Basque practice and type of metak involves shredding and drying corn stalks to use as fodder over the long, cold winter months. So, a metak is a pile of collected things that are preserved for an extended period. In Iriondo’s view, this serves as an analogy for something deeper. “I love this idea, because you can put everything inside the metak,” he says. “It’s like a collection of your emotions. For example, with my shop, Sound Metak, I sold different kinds of things—from old gramophones and vinyl shellac records to fuzz pedals and jukeboxes and guitars and amplifiers—it was a lot of different things. Metak for me is an idea, and my instrument, the Mahai Metak, is the same thing. It’s an energy from my fantasy, which is everything I can put out from my mind.”
Buñuel is a noise-rock quartet named after the legendary Spanish filmmaker, Luis Buñuel. The band formed was formed in 2016 by (from left to right) bassist Andrea Lombardini, drummer Francesco Valente, American vocalist Eugene S. Robinson, and guitarist Xabier Iriondo.
Conceptually, metak also helps to explain Iriondo’s musical diversity. Born in Milan, he started playing the guitar at 17, and became something of an Italian celebrity as part of the alternative band Afterhours, with whom he’s been a member since 1992 (except for hiatus throughout most of the aughts). But Afterhours is about as mainstream as Xabier gets. He’s also made incredible noise with myriad projects, like his recordings and performances with Can’s Damo Suzuki (Damo Suzuki’s Network), collaborations with the cream of Europe’s avant-garde (?Alos, Pleiadees), numerous solo projects, and the list goes on and on.
Xabier Iriondo's pedalboard: “When you’re using some of these destruction pedals on the loud and heavy stuff, the guitar isn’t so important. You destroy everything with these kinds of pedals."
His most recent outing is the abrasive, apocalyptic, noise-rock quartet Buñuel. Named after the legendary Spanish filmmaker Luis Buñuel, the band first came together in 2016 and mixes the talents of a trio of Italian musicians—Iriondo, bassist Andrea Lombardini, and drummer Francesco Valente—plus American vocalist Eugene S. Robinson. Their new release, Killers Like Us, is awash in fuzz and rages between brain-crushing, metal-tinged cuts like “A Prison of Measured Time” and “When God Used a Rope” to slow, doomy dirges like “Hornets” and “When We Talk,” as well as moments of unstructured, free improvisation interspersed throughout the record.
BUNUEL - When God Used A Rope (official video)
“We are three Italian musicians,” Iriondo says about Buñuel’s genesis. “We were a little bit famous here in Italy, and we decided to choose an international singer. We wrote to Eugene Robinson, and he accepted our idea. For our first record, the three of us recorded 10 songs in a studio in Italy. We sent them to Eugene in San Francisco, he sang on them, and then sent the tracks back to us. We did that again for this record.” Not only were the vocals recorded separate from the rest of the band, but Robinson didn’t even get a chance to rehearse with them. The first time the band played together as a quartet was onstage in front of an audience. “We didn’t rehearse with Eugene—we rehearsed ourselves—and we met with him the first day of the first gig. That’s how it started.”
Despite Iriondo’s years of experience with group improvisation, that was not the approach he took with Buñuel. You’d think improv would be helpful when stepping onstage raw with an unrehearsed new singer. Rather, the band’s vibe is through-composed songs that are played the same way—except for planned sections set aside for improvisation—night after night.
“When I want to take a solo, I adjust the Cornish directly with my foot. I open up the volume, and then I arrive in the cosmos.”
“We play the songs like they are on the album,” says Iriondo. “Although we do have some parts, or structures, that can change. For example, on our first tour, we wrote our 10 songs, and that’s all we had. At the end of the show, the audience asked for more. I said, ‘Okay, let’s start with an improv,’ and that improv we used on those gigs from the first tour became a song on the second album [“The Sanction” o 2018'sThe Easy Way Out]. We composed each day, each gig, and the song transformed and arrived at the end of the tour.”
When recording Buñuel, Iriondo harnesses that live feel by taking a minimalist approach to overdubs. Aside from an odd guitar solo or two, the instruments are recorded live, with the band members standing together and looking at each other. “I also play pop rock with other bands, and overdubbing is okay for that kind of music, but the wildness of this project gains a lot when we’re all playing together in the same room,” he says.
For both of Buñuel’s albums, including the new Killers Like Us, the three Italian core band members recorded the songs in Italy and sent them to vocalist Eugene Robinson in San Francisco. Robinson sang over the music and then sent the tracks back to Italy.
“In the past, in the ’90s, I used the VHT head system that people talked about,” he says about the now-rebranded Fryette Pittbull Ultra-Lead. “I bought the second one that arrived in Italy in 1994. But in the last 20-to-25 years, I started using theHiwatt DR103, and I think that’s my sound. When I plugged in for the first time, I said, ‘What the hell is this?’ I can go from high-frequency, crystal-like sounds to really deep grunge sounds with a lot of low frequencies. In general, with Buñuel and also Afterhours, I use the Hiwatt, and then also another amp, a 300-watt SWR California Blonde, which is a transistor amp. I have the headroom also in the clean sounds, but when I engage all my fuzzes and boosters, the gain is incredible, and it’s still in front of you all the time.”
“I love this idea, because you can put everything inside the metak. It’s like a collection of your emotions.”
Iriondo’s tone is wild, too. Considering how mangled, heavy, and distorted his sound gets, it’s interesting how he crafts his tone almost exclusively with pedals, which he uses to drive his amps. He owns more than 20 heads and cabs, and his preference is classic British amps like Hiwatt, Orange, Carlsbro, and Simms Watt—he has a few of each in assorted colors—that have a lot of headroom. He feels those work best with his high-gain pedals.
Xabier Iriondo’s Gear
Xabier Iriondo’s custom-built "Mahai Metak" is a 10-string short-scale table guitar. Six of the strings are tuned to D in different octaves and act as drones. The other four are G, G, F, and A. It has pickups on both ends, plus an onboard oscillator and distortion unit, and controls for volume and tone. "I play it with Chinese sticks, and I create rhythms and special sounds with steel wool—that stuff you use in America to wash your dishes. It sounds great."
Photo courtesy of Xabier Iriondo
Guitars
- Two custom Billy Boy Guitars made by Fabio Ghiribelli (a white model and a purple model used with Buñuel, with a TV Jones pickup in the neck position and a ’52 Tele pickup in the bridge)
- NukeTown Venusian IX Signature 9-string
- Loic Le Page (Mahai Metak Guitar)
- James Trussart Red Star Steelcaster
Amps
- Hiwatt DR504 stack
- Hiwatt DR103 head and 4x12 cab (1970)
- Vox AC30TB (1992 reissue)
- Orange OR120 head with 4x12 cab (1969)
- Orange bass cabinet with 18" speaker (1970)
- Simms Watts AP100 Mk2 (1972)
- Marshall 1959 SLP Purple Limited Edition (1994)
- 300-watt SWR California Blonde
Effects
- Hologram Microcosm Granular Looper
- TC Electronic Ditto X2
- Pete Cornish NB-2
- AC Noises AMA (reverb w/ oscillator + bit crusher)
- Supro Tremolo
- DigiTech Whammy Ricochet
- Death By Audio Waveformer Destroyer
- EarthQuaker Devices Organizer
- EarthQuaker Devices Acapulco Gold
- AC Noises Arpiona Xabier Iriondo signature
- Korg PB-03 Pitchblack
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario .010–.052
- Dunlop Tortex Purple 1 mm
Iriondo has a seemingly endless collection of pedals, too, although his go-to is his signature octave-synth-fuzz-boost Arpiona, made by Italian builders AC Noises. The pedal starts with a gated fuzz circuit inspired by Death By Audio’s Harmonic Transformer, followed by a sub-octave bass synth, more fuzz, and a boost. He uses that in conjunction with an EarthQuaker Devices Acapulco Gold, and a Pete Cornish NB-2 boost that’s always engaged. “When I want to take a solo,” he says, “I adjust the Cornish directly with my foot. I open up the volume, and then I arrive in the cosmos.”
Afterhours - Spreca una vita
They’re Italian, which is probably why this Afterhours video looks like a Federico Fellini film.
Iriondo is also no purist. If an analog circuit will get him the sound he wants, great, but he’s just as happy using a digital device. “I use everything that can give me satisfaction,” he says. “Why not?”
Why not, indeed. He also gets that satisfaction from his guitars. “About 80 percent of my choice in guitars is the feel, and 20 percent is the sound,” he says. “When you’re using some of these destruction pedals on the loud and heavy stuff, the guitar isn’tso important. You destroy everything with these kinds of pedals. They completely destroy your clean sound. Although when I play pop-rock music, I change my guitars a lot.”
Xabier Iriondo bought his James Trussart Red Star Steelcaster directly from the luthier at his L.A. home in 2012. It features a metal front and back perforation body, maple neck, rosewood fretboard, and two Arcane Inc. pickups.
Photo by Alberto Mori
But that feel is elusive, which may explain Iriondo’s vast collection of instruments. He has vintage guitars he doesn’t mod at all, but in general he’s an itinerant tinkerer. He usually swaps out pickups, even on his less expensive guitars, and has a significant number of custom-built guitars as well. “I’m not only a collector, I’m a professional, which means guitars are my life,” he says. “I want to have tools that work well with me. In the last few years, I’ve had the opportunity to have my dream guitars that I ask luthiers to build for me with my specific specifications. The principal guitar that I used on the Buñuel project is made by Billy Boy Guitars. It has an incredible tremolo, and it’s a light guitar. All the sounds you hear on Buñuel are made with that guitar.”
Perhaps Iriondo’s most unique instrument is his custom-built Mahai Metak. It’s a 10-string, short-scale table guitar. Six of the strings are tuned to D in different octaves and act as drones. The other four are G, G, F, and A. The instrument has pickups on both ends—near the bridge as well as near the nut—plus an onboard oscillator and distortion unit, and controls for volume and tone. He plays it with an assortment of items, including marbles, roach clips, and steel wool. “I play it with Chinese sticks,” he says, “and I create rhythms and special sounds with steel wool—that stuff you use in America to wash your dishes. It sounds great. I use it with the loopers and reverbs and it creates these noisy and bizarre sounds, as well as melodic sounds that create a nice texture.”
Iriondo’s Gibson “Elettra” Explorer was handpainted by Valentina Chiappini
Photo by Matteo Pieroni
It’s that openness and wonder, as exemplified by Iriondo’s voracious appetite for gear, as well as his embrace of disparate genres and styles, that are the ingredients that make up his metak. Call it his esoteric pile of ideas, which gives him permission to explore the endless energies of his imagination. He’ll conjure up sounds that are heavy and dark—or playful and light—and almost always fun, and, maybe, even a little mischievous.
And isn’t that, ultimately, the ideal?
YouTube It
This live performance shows Buñuel from their last tour in 2016, with Xabier Iriondo playing his custom Billy Boy guitar. It takes a while for Iriondo to enter, but it’s worth the wait. Head to 2:45 to hear one of the guitarist’s deliciously mangled solos.
Grez Guitars has introduced the Grez GrandTour Bass, a short scale semi-hollow carve-top instrument available in 4-string format.
The Grez Grand Tour Bass, designed in collaboration with bass powerhouse Ian MartinAllison is, like all Grez instruments, a modern sleek interpretation of the classic instruments from the 50’s and 60’s.
The instruments feature a carved Spruce top, Honduran Mahogany body and neck. The 30" scale construction includes a Macassar ebony fretboard, 12” radius with 21 jumbofrets. Each bass comes equipped with a Halon bridge, Grez string anchor and LaBellaDeep Talkin’ long scale 45-105 flatwound strings. Electronics include Curtis Novak Bisonic/Darkstar pickups with coil tap.
The Grand Tour bass features a nitro finish and is available in a variety of colors(pictured here in custom Toasted Marshmallow).
Grez Grand Tour Bass with Ian Martin Allison
Barry Grzebik explains: “I love process of design instruments, marrying acoustical,electrical, visual and ergonomic engineering with industrial and artistic design. In this case creating something that artfully balances the desire for a robust acoustic voice with the need to hold up to professional touring and stadium stage volumes. One small notable detail is that although this is a short scale instrument, because of the after-length of string past the bridge, it uses standard long scale strings which dramatically increases sting options and availability.”
Ian Marin Allison shares, “I’m inspired by the unique character of vintage hollow andsemi-hollow basses, but they don’t always live up to our modern expectation of stability, playability, versatility and QUALITY. I’m proud to have helped create something that does”.
The Grez Grand Tour Bass, is available now from Grez Guitars and their dealers with astreet price starting at $5,999. Light customization is welcome with delivery times aslittle as 8 weeks.
$149
Marshall 1959 Super Lead
The very definition of classic, vintage Marshall sound in a highly affordable package.
There’s only one relevant question about Marshall’s new 1959 Super Lead overdrive/distortion pedal: Does it sound like an actual vintage Super Lead head? The answer is, simply and surprisingly, yes. The significant difference I heard within the voice of this stomp, which I ran through a Carr Vincent and a StewMac Valve Factory 18 kit amp for contrast, is that it’s a lot quieter than my 1972 Super Lead.
The Super Lead, which bore Marshall’s 1959 model number, debuted in 1965 and was the amp that defined the plexi sound. That sound is here in spades, clubs, diamonds, and hearts. Like the Super Lead, the pedal is easy to use. The original’s 3-band EQ is replaced by a single, rangeful tone control. The normal dial and the volume, which together mimic the character created by jumping the first and second channels of a plexi head, offer smooth, rich, buttery op-amp driven gain and loudness. And the high-treble dial functions much like the presence control on the original amp.
The pedal is sturdy and handsome, too. A heavy-duty metal enclosure evokes the classic black-with-gold-plate plexi look and a vintage-grille-cloth motif. Switches and knobs (the latter with rubber sides for slip-free turning) are ultra solid, and—refreshingly—there’s a 9V battery option in addition to a barrel-pin connection. Whether with single-coils or humbuckers, getting beefy, sustained, historic tones took moments. I especially delighted in approximating my favorite Super Lead head setting by flooring the high treble, normal, and tone dials, and turning back the tone pots on my Flying V, evoking Disraeli Gears-era Clapton tone. That alone, to me, makes the 1959 Super Lead stomp a bargain at $149.The Miku was introduced about 10 years ago and is based on the vocal stylings of Hatsune Miku, a virtual pop icon. But it does much more than artificial vowels and high-pitched words.
It’s tempting to think of this pedal as a joke. Don’t.
It all started a few years ago through a trade with a friend. I just wanted to help him out—he really wanted to get a fuzz pedal but didn’t have enough cash, so he offered up the Korg Miku. I had no idea then, but it turned out to be the best trade I’ve ever made.
Here’s the truth: the Korg Miku is not your typical guitar pedal. It won’t boost your mids, sculpt your gain, or serve up that warm, buttery overdrive you’ve always worshipped. Nope. This little box does something entirely different: It sings! Yes, sings in a Japanese kawaii accent that’s based on the signature voice of virtual pop icon Hatsune Miku.
At first glance, it’s tempting to dismiss this pedal as just a gimmick—a joke, a collector’s oddity, the kind of thing you buy for fun and then forget next to your Hello Kitty Strat. But here’s the twist: Some take it seriously and I’m one of those people.
I play in a punk band called Cakrux, and lately I’ve been working with a member of a Japanese idol-style girl group—yeah, it’s exactly the kind of wild mashup you’d ever imagine. Somewhere in the middle of that chaos, the Miku found its way into my setup, and weirdly enough, it stuck. It’s quirky, beautiful, occasionally maddening, and somehow … just right. After plenty of time spent in rehearsals, studio takes, and more sonic experiments than I care to admit, I’ve come to appreciate this pedal in unexpected ways. So here are a few things you probably didn’t know about this delightfully strange little box.
It’s Not Organic—and That’s OK
Most guitar pedals are chasing something real. Wah pedals mimic the human voice—or even a trumpet. Tube Screamers? They’re built to recreate the warm push of an overdriven tube amp. Cab sims aim to replicate the tone of real-world speaker setups. But the Miku? It breaks the mold. Instead of emulating reality, it channels the voice of a fictional pop icon. Hatsune Miku isn’t a person—she’s a vocaloid, a fully digital creation made of samples and synthesis. The Miku doesn’t try to sound organic, it tries to sound like her. In that sense, it might be the only pedal trying to reproduce something that never existed in the physical world. And honestly, there’s something oddly poetic about that.
A World-Class Buffer
Here’s a fun fact: I once saw a big-name Indonesian session guitarist—you know, the kind who plays in sold-out arenas—with a Miku pedal on his board. I was like, “No way this guy’s busting out vocaloid lines mid-solo.” Plot twist: He only uses it for the buffer. Yep, the man swears by it and says it’s the best-sounding buffer he’s ever plugged into. I laughed … until I tried it. And honestly? He’s not wrong. Even if you never hear Miku sing a note, this pedal still deserves a spot on your board. Just for the tone mojo alone. Wild, right?
“The Miku is one of those pedals that really shouldn’t work for your music, but somehow, it just does.”
Impossible to Tame
Most pedals are built to make your life easier. The Miku? Not so much. This thing demands patience—and maybe a little spiritual surrender. First off, the tracking can be finicky, especially if you’re using low-output pickups. Latency becomes really noticeable and your picking dynamics suddenly matter a lot more. Then there’s the golden rule I learned the hard way. Never—ever—put anything before the Miku. No fuzz, no wah, no compressor, not even a buffer! It gets confused instantly and says “What is going on here?” And don’t even think about punching in while recording. The vocal results are so unpredictable, you’ll never get the same sound twice. Mess up halfway? You’re starting from scratch. Same setup, same take, same chaotic energy. It’s like trying to recreate a fever dream. Good luck with that.
Full Range = Full Power
Sure, it’s made for guitar, but the Miku really comes to life when you run it through a keyboard amp, bass cab, or even a full-range speaker. Why? Because her voice covers way more frequency range than a regular guitar speaker can handle. Plug it into a PA system or a bass rig, and everything sounds clearer, richer, way more expressive. It’s like letting Hatsune Miku out of her cage.
The Miku is one of those pedals that really shouldn't work for your music, but somehow, it just does. Is it the best pedal out there? Nah. Is it practical? Not by a long shot. But every time I plug it in, I can’t help but smile. It’s unpredictable, a little wild, and it feels like you’re jamming in the middle of a bizarre Isekai anime scene. And honestly, that’s what makes it fun.
This thing used to go for less than $100. Now? It’s fetching many times that. Is it worth the price? That’s up to you. But for me, the Korg Miku isn’t just another pedal—it’s a strange, delightful journey I’m glad I didn’t skip. No regrets here.
Two guitars, two amps, and two people is all it takes to bring the noise.
The day before they played the coveted Blue Room at Third Man Records in Nashville, the Washington, D.C.-based garage-punk duo Teen Mortgage released their debut record, Devil Ultrasonic Dream. Not a bad couple of days for a young band.
PG’s Chris Kies caught up with guitarist and vocalist James Guile at the Blue Room to find out how he builds the band’s bombastic guitar attack.
Brought to you by D’Addario.
Devilish Dunable
Guile has been known to use Telecasters and Gretsches in the past, but this time out he’s sticking with this Dunable Cyclops DE, courtesy of Gwarsenio Hall—aka Jordan Olds of metal-themed comedy talk show Two Minutes to Late Night. Guile digs the Dunable’s lightness on his shoulders, and its balance of high and low frequencies.
Storm Warning
What does Guile like about this Squier Cyclone? Simple: its color. This one is also nice and easy on the back, and Guile picked it up from Atomic Music in Beltsville, Maryland.
Crushing It
Guile also scooped this Music Man 410-HD from Atomic, which he got just for this tour for a pretty sweet deal. It runs alongside an Orange Crush Bass 100 to rumble out the low end.
James Guile’s Pedalboard
The Electro-Harmonix Micro POG and Hiwatt Filter Fuzz MkII run to the Orange, while everything else—a DigiTech Whammy, Pro Co Lil’ RAT, and Death by Audio Echo Dream 2—runs to the Music Man. A TC Helicon Mic Mechanic is on board for vocal assistance, and a TC Electronic PolyTune 3, Morley ABY, and Voodoo Labs Pedal Power 3 Plus keep the ship afloat.