
Lilas Mayassi (left) and Shery Bechara (right) are the founding guitarists of the all-female Lebanese thrash-metal band, Slave to Sirens, as seen in the documentary Sirens, directed by Rita Baghdadi.
Guitarists Shery Bechara and Lilas Mayassi discuss fighting to make music amid political unrest, societal strife, generational trauma, and more.
There’s a moment in the documentary Sirens when Blaakyum’s Bassem Deaibess declares that heavy metal is “100 percent pure sacrifice.” Deaibess says this to Shery Bechara, one half of the guitar tandem in Slave to Sirens, the all-women thrash-metal band from Lebanon who are the focus of the new film,directed by Rita Baghdadi. Deaibess was a close friend to Slave to Sirens in the band's early days. “I think what he meant by that was, you give a lot, for a long time, and don’t expect anything in return, especially if it’s here in Lebanon,” explains Bechara. “There’s so much sacrifice.”
Though much of Sirens ultimately focuses on guitarist Lilas Mayassi’s coming out, and how that inadvertently creates turmoil with her bandmates, Baghdadi’s deft filmmaking simultaneously captures just how challenging it is for a band like Slave to Sirens to even exist in the Middle East, much less grab the proverbial brass ring. Aside from the familiar struggles one might encounter in pursuit of a music career (or any artistic endeavor, for that matter), Slave to Sirens finds themselves face-to-face with cultural dogma, political protests, regional unrest, catastrophic disasters, and limited opportunities. The film is a metaphorical back-and-forth between the band’s own struggles and societal dysfunction writ large, but the magnitude of their quest is perhaps best amplified when Bechara’s father, Roger, tells her that less than one percent of the population in the Middle East listens to metal. You could make the argument that heavy metal is a fairly marginalized musical genre in the United States, but in the Middle East, a queer, all-female thrash-metal band is literally an against-all-odds gambit.
And yet, through sacrifice, fierce commitment to their ideals (some of which emerge throughout the film), and perseverance, Slave to Sirens starts to gain some traction within the metal community, particularly outside of Lebanon. Their performance at Glastonbury Festival in 2019 is a pivotal moment in the film. Solicited by Earache Records to perform on one of their stages, it is Slave to Sirens’ first international gig, and a seemingly triumphant opportunity. Their time slot, however, runs simultaneous with a Babymetal performance on one of the main stages, so they are left playing to a single-digit audience. Baghdadi artfully crafts an emotional rollercoaster from such bittersweet moments. Think ABC’s “The thrill of victory … and the agony of defeat” slogan from Wide World of Sports in the 1970s—disappointment and exaltation abound equally.
Slave To Sirens - Salomé (OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO)
“Glastonbury was an amazing experience, and we learned a lot from it,” says Mayassi, who seems far more upbeat about it now than she did in the film. “We were unlucky in the time slot, but we didn’t really care, because the point for us was just performing and having fun.” It’s been about four years since Sirens was shot, so distance clearly provides some perspective.
“I think whatever happened with us, especially with the revolution and the port explosion, it just stays there—it stays and inspires, and everything that happens affects us personally and musically.”—Lilas Mayassi
Slave to Sirens was formed by a chance encounter between Bechara and Mayassi in 2015 in Lebanon during an anti-government protest regarding a waste management crisis. In 2018, they independently released their debut EP, Terminal Leeches, which pricked up some ears around the globe, leading to the invitation from Earache to perform at Glastonbury. Lyrically, the band addresses much of the societal strife that seems to plague the Middle East. Musically, the songs are infused by the thrash and death metal influences of their youth, and Mayassi and Bechara both attack their instruments with a kind of swagger that belies their years.
Shery Bechara's Gear
Bechara is the lead guitarist in Slave to Sirens, but both she and rhythm guitarist Mayassi write equally and switch on parts whenever the mood takes over.
Photo by Sally Mïre
Guitars
- Vox Custom 25
- Dean Dime Razorback Slime Bumblebee
- Dean Exile Select 7-string Multiscale
Amps
- Peavey Heritage VTX Series 12-watt 2x12 combo
Effects
- Line 6 POD HD500 multi-effect/amp modeler
Strings and Picks
- Fender 250R Nickel-Plated Steel .010–.046 strings
- D’Addario Regular Light XL .010–.046 strings
- Ernie Ball 2215 Skinny Top Heavy Bottom Slinky .010–.052 strings
- Dunlop Ultex Jazz III 1.38 mm picks
- Dunlop Primetone Jazz III 1.4 mm picks
- Dunlop John Petrucci Jazz III 1.5 mm picks
- Levy’s Leathers guitar straps
- D’Addario Planet Waves cables
The guitar playing is tight and tenacious, featuring quirky, unexpected rhythmic patterns courtesy of Mayassi, and nuanced melodic note choices and phrasing from Bechara. In 2022, the band, which also included bassist Alma Doumani, drummer Tatyana Boughaba, and singer Maya S. Khairallah, released the bludgeoning single “Salomé,” but as of January 1, 2023, they announced on social media that Khairallah and Boughaba had left the band, and introduced Anita Tóth from Hungary as their new lead singer. There’s been no official announcement yet regarding their new drummer. According to Mayassi, they’ve currently tracked about 80 percent of the guitars and bass for a new album. “We have new members,” she clarifies. “So, we’re trying to finish the vocals.” She says they’re mixing at Dyne Engine Studio in Italy with Manuele Pesaresi, who worked with them on Terminal Leeches.
“I think what he meant by that was, you give a lot, for a long time, and don’t expect anything in return, especially if it’s here in Lebanon.”—Shery Bechara
According to the film credits, Mayassi and Bechara occupy fairly distinct roles in Slave to Sirens—Mayassi is billed as the rhythm guitarist, while Bechara is billed “lead guitar.” Mayassi admits that she’s mostly fascinated by the rhythmic aspects of a song. “My focus always shifts to the drums and bass,” she explains. “Shery is more about the soloing and all the dynamics that truly animate a song—she adds the color.”
Bechara describes Mayassi’s style as rough and very thrashy. “She loves the ‘djent, djent, djent,’” she says. “I like that, too, but she has a different approach to it than me. Also, she’s really good on the clean parts, with chorus and vibrato—I see something in her eyes. It’s like, ‘Mm-hmm [laughs].’”
Lilas Mayassi's Gear
Mayassi started playing guitar at age 13, and would spend hours at an internet cafe studying shredders on YouTube.
Photo by Sally Mïre
Guitars
- DBZ Venom Flying V
- Dean Thoroughbred Select
Amps
- Marshall MG30FX 30-Watt 1x10 combo
- Marshall JCM800 2203X 100-watt head
Effects
- Electro-Harmonix Memory Man XO Analog Delay/Chorus/Vibrato
- DigiTech DF-7 Distortion Factory
Strings and Picks
- Ernie Ball Regular Slinky .010–.046 strings
- Ernie Ball Power Slinky .011–.048 strings
- Dunlop John Petrucci Jazz III 1.5 mm picks
Despite such seemingly clear-cut differences in how they approach guitar parts, there is a moment in the documentary when the two are working on a song idea and Mayassi is playing the single-note melodic phrases, while Bechara backs her up on rhythm. So clearly there’s some wiggle room when inspiration strikes. “Whenever I feel like I have an idea, I’ll solo over it,” says Mayassi. “If Shery has an idea, she solos over it. We just go with the flow, whatever we feel like [laughs].”
Both Mayassi and Bechara picked up the guitar in their teens and were mostly self-taught. Mayassi started playing when she was just 13. “I didn’t have access to guitar lessons or anything, so I relied more on a friend in high school who would take pictures of his playing and I would mimic his finger position on the fretboard,” she explains. She would also go once a week to an internet cafe to watch hours of guitar shredding on YouTube. “That was the turning point for me. I started learning, through the videos—that’s what I had access to.” Today, she holds a bachelor’s degree in music education from Lebanese University (LU).
Bechara says she learned from her dad but is also mostly self-taught. She did study for a month at a music school and wants to go back. “I want to learn more things and improve,” she says. “There’s always something to learn. I’m trying to get into music theory and put technique with it.”
Terminal Leeches is the 2018 debut EP by Slave to Sirens, and was recorded at Dyne Engine Studio in Castelfidardo, Italy, with Manuele Pesaresi. The band is currently putting the finishing touches on a new album at Pesaresi’s studio.
As for influences, Bechara says her dad was into rock, blues, and jazz, so those genres influenced her as she was starting out, but she quickly got into heavy metal. “[My dad] never was into metal,” she chuckles. “He used to tell me, ‘You’ll get over it,’ but when he saw how committed I was, and he heard a few bands that I listened to, like Iron Maiden and Carach Angren, he was like, ‘Okay, the riffing on the guitar is very, very good,’ but he’s not into the growling [laughs].”
“I didn’t have access to guitar lessons or anything, so I relied more on a friend in high school who would take pictures of his playing and I would mimic his finger position on the fretboard.”—Lilas Mayassi
Mayassi lists Joan Jett as perhaps her biggest inspiration, but also name-checks Alexi Laiho from Children of Bodom, Steve Vai, and Joe Satriani. “Then I fell in love with thrash and death metal,” she says. “So, it’s like Testament, all the ‘Big Four’ bands [Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer, and Anthrax], and Death, the band.”
Aside from musical influences, Mayassi raises the specter of inherited trauma in the film and the impact that has had on their personal and professional lives. “My parents were kids back when the civil war started [in 1975],” she says. “They were affected by what happened, and that trauma, that fear—it’s some kind of pessimism. These events leave some kind of a scar that doesn’t really go away. The body stores trauma, and it appears in the form of stress. And now, I think whatever happened with us, especially with the revolution and the port explosion, it just stays there—it stays and inspires, and everything that happens affects us personally and musically.”
YouTube It
Sirens is a documentary that follows the Lebanese metal band Slave to Sirens as the five members fight to make a path in music while dealing with societal and personal conflict in their home country.
As for her coming out while shooting the documentary, Mayassi says, “One of the main reasons I felt unapologetically myself in this documentary is because I had the girls with me.” But in a culture that essentially prohibits same-sex relations, and LGBTQ rights are fairly nonexistent, Mayassi admits to being concerned about the fallout from the film. “When the film was released, I started realizing, ‘Okay, I think it’s going to be a problem,’” she says. “We had a lot of tough conversations with Rita. We were lucky that she was able to understand where we come from, and our concerns were respected. But when the film happened to spotlight me and my friends, first I had concerns about their safety, and then the safety of the band. So, at the start, we didn’t feel bad, but during the last years of filming, we started being aware more and more.”
The documentary closes out with the aptly titled Sound of Resilience concert, which was organized by Baalbeck International Festival, and led by conductor Harout Fazlian and the Lebanese Philharmonic Orchestra. It took place on July 5, 2020, at the Temple of Bacchus. Both Bechara and Mayassi are featured on guitar during a performance of Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir.” It’s an auspicious moment, in a stunning setting, that seems to foretell a promising future for the two of them. “It was a new experience and a huge honor,” says Bechara. “Actually, playing with an orchestra was something like a dream.”
Fender introduces the Stories Collection Mike Campbell Red Dog Telecaster, paying tribute to the iconic guitarist's heavily modified instrument. Featuring two signature humbuckers, a custom single coil bridge pickup, Bigsby tremolo, and a unique "Destruct" circuit, this Telecaster allows players to channel Campbell's legendary tone and style.
Today, Fender Musical Instruments Corporation (FMIC) and the Fender Custom Shop (FCS) introduce the newest member of the ‘Stories Collection’ family—a series of instruments that pays tribute to iconic Fender guitars and basses that have been uniquely modified by the legendary artists who played them. Mike Campbell, the tasteful and versatile player who is responsible for some of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ most memorable riffs, has teamed up with Fender and the Custom Shop to develop the Stories Collection Mike Campbell signature guitars - the Red Dog Telecaster and FCS Limited Edition Masterbuilt 1972 “Red Dog“ Telecaster—two reproductions of Campbell’s stunning and heavily modified Telecaster that gives players the opportunity to create their own sonic identity through the framework of one of rock and pop’s greatest guitar players.
“Telecasters are the heart and soul of rock and roll music and this one is a beautiful instrument,” said Mike Campbell. “I could tell The Red Dog was special as soon as I picked it up. It felt like it was in the right place at just the right time. The humbuckers give it so much power and such a wide variety of tones while the destruct button really sets it apart from just about any other tele.”
The tale of the Red Dog Telecaster began when one of Campbell’s former students living in Florida offered to sell him a guitar. However, after seeing the guitar in question, it became clear that this was no standard instrument pulled from the rack. Campbell was presented with a bright red Tele equipped with humbuckers in the neck and middle position, a Bigsby tremolo and, perhaps the guitar’s most idiosyncratic flourish, an onboard electronic boost dubbed the “destruct” circuit. As any other lifelong guitar devotee would, Campbell bought this glorious Frankenstein of an instrument without a moment’s hesitation. The Red Dog was subsequently used most memorably on the Heartbreaker’s track “Refugee” and is prominently featured in the song’s music video. All throughout his storied career playing with Tom Petty, as a session guitarist, alongside Fleetwood Mac and touring the world with his solo act The Dirty Knobs, this singular Telecaster has been inextricably linked to Campbell’s career and legacy as one of rock and roll’s finest players.
The Stories Collection Mike Campbell Red Dog Telecaster offers the same level of craftsmanship and sonic capability at a more accessible price point. The two signature Mike Campbell humbuckers in the neck and middle position bring a low-end growl and high octane output that sets it apart from other Telecaster guitars. However, the custom single coil bridge pickup delivers the caliber of twang that people worldwide associate exclusively with Tele guitars. A Bigsby B5F tremolo allows players to extenuate riffs and solos with an additional level of flourish and attitude. Perhaps the Red Dog’s most exciting feature lies beneath the surface—the “Destruct” circuit. With the push of a sleek silver button on the control plate, an added 34 dB of gain can be activated for complete tonal dominance.
“It’s our mission to honor the legacy and sonic character that Mike Campbell has infused into every note played on his beloved ‘Red Dog’ Telecaster®,” said Justin Norvell, Executive Vice President of Fender Products. “Every scratch, modification, and battle scar tells a story, and with these meticulously crafted recreations, we’re giving players everywhere the chance to channel that same timeless energy and write their own musical history.”
While the Red Dog Telecaster came into his hands already modified, its custom features were universal and powerful enough to elevate Campbell’s personal playing style and the same can be said for Fender’s painstakingly detailed and powerfully crafted recreations. The FCS Limited Edition Masterbuilt 1972 “Red Dog” Telecaster is a jaw dropping representation of the instrument as it exists today—dings, paint chips, dents and all by FCS’s Senior Masterbuilder Dennis Galuska. Outfitted with vintage replica Arcane, Inc. pickups and signature “Destruct” boost circuit wired by Analogman, this custom Telecaster can achieve the same biting jangle heard on “Refugee.” Features include a flat sawn maple neck with custom Oval “C” back shape, 7.25” radius fingerboard, 21 vintage upgrade frets, 5-way pickup sector and vintage style Jazzmaster bridge with threaded saddles.
“The ‘Red Dog’ Telecaster® is a testament to how a heavily modified instrument can be both deeply personal and universally cherished,” said Chase Paul, Director of Product Development - Fender Custom Shop. “There’s an undeniable magic in an instrument that evolves alongside its player, and every modification on this guitar serves a purpose, working together to create something greater than the sum of its parts. Dennis Galuszka and the Custom Shop dedicated countless hours to faithfully recreating every detail, bringing players and fans as close to Mike’s legendary Tele® as possible.”
Stories Collection Mike Campbell Red Dog Telecaster® ($3,499.99) Revered for his tasty rhythms and fiery leads, Mike Campbell is responsible for many of the iconic hooks from the Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers catalog. For decades now his faithful Fender guitars have been at the heart of his trusted formula for award-winning tone.Campbell bought what became known as the “Red Dog” from a former guitar student in Florida, complete with Bigsby tremolo and a powerful onboard boost, known as the “Destruct” circuit. Mike’s iconic 1972 Red Dog Telecaster is featured on the Damn the Torpedoes track “Refugee” and can be seen in the accompanying music video. The Stories Collection Mike Campbell “Red Dog” Telecaster features an Heirloom™ nitrocellulose lacquer “Red Dog Red” finish, 1-piece maple neck with 7.25” radius fingerboard and 21 vintage-style frets as well as an onboard “Destruct” boost circuit. The custom Mike Campbell Red Dog pickup set features two vintage-style humbuckers and a single-coil Telecaster bridge pickup, Bigsby B5F tremolo and a custom Red Dog neck plate. Custom accessories include a vintage-style case, strap, picks and certificate of authenticity.
Unique, versatile and utterly original, The Mike Campbell “Red Dog” Telecaster pays tribute to a veteran Heartbreaker with a serious knack for writing extraordinary songs and delivering catchy, captivating and magnificent guitar parts.
Fender Custom Shop Limited Edition Masterbuilt Mike Campbell 1972 “Red Dog” Telecaster® ($20,000.00) With raw, powerful riffs and explosive leads, Mike Campbell firmly established himself as one of the greatest guitarists and songwriters in music history—and throughout his accomplished career, Fender guitars played in integral role in his creative expression. One of his most noteworthy instruments was his modified three-pickup Telecaster that would come to be known as the “Red Dog.” Fender Custom Shop Senior Masterbuilder Dennis Galuszka partnered with Mike to recreate this incredible guitar. From beautifully faded red metallic finish to the worn and Bigsby B5 vibrato tailpiece, every nick, ding and scratch was meticulously replicated to bring this tribute guitar to life. Loaded with vintage replica Arcane, Inc. pickups and a “Destruct” boost circuit wired by Analogman, this Tele plays, sounds and feels just like the guitar heard on “Refugee.” Its two-piece select alder body and custom-shaped, one-piece maple neck feature a well-loved Relic® lacquer finish, while the hardware is aged to look like it’s been played for the last five decades. Wonderfully unique and with a storied past, the Limited Edition Masterbuilt Mike Campbell 1972 “Red Dog” Telecaster is a fitting homage to such an incredibly captivating and inspiring musician. Other premium features include flat sawn maple neck with custom Oval “C” back-shape, 7.25” (184.1 mm) radius, 21 vintage upgrade (45085) frets, 5-way switch, 3-ply parchment pickguard, vintage-style Jazzmaster® bridge with threaded steel saddles, vintage-style “F”-stamped tuning machines, bone nut, two American Vintage ‘65+ string trees with nylon spacers, deluxe hardshell case, strap and certificate of authenticity.
For more information, please visit fender.com.
Fender Stories Collection Mike Campbell Red Dog Telecaster Electric Guitar - Red Dog Red
Stories Collection Mike Campbell Red Dog Tele, MapExpansive range of subtle thickening and focusing tones to fuzz. Great alternative to run-of-the-mill overdrive and fuzz. Enables surgical shaping of guitar sounds within a mix.
Interactive, sometimes sensitive controls make certain tones elusive and lend the pedal a twitchy feel.
$179
Catalinbread Airstrip
With the preamp from a Trident A-Range console as their target, Catalinbread conjures up a varied gain device that can massage or mangle your guitar tone.
Replicating a recording console preamp in a pedal is a pretty elementary idea, but it’s inspired stompboxes as varied as theJHS Colour Box andHudson Broadcast. All recording desks—and the pedals that imitate them—have their own color. Catalinbread’s Airstrip chases the sound of a Trident A-Range channel strip. (Search “Trident Studios” to get a handle on the kind of clientele the place attracted back in the ’60s and ’70s).
Presently, a new Trident A-Range channel strip costs thousands of dollars. An original? Well, only 13 desks were made, so you can probably get a nice used Rolls Royce for less—if you can find one. Rightly then, one should temper expectations about how well a $179 pedal can ape a priceless console. But like many preamps in a box, the Airstrip excels at a wide range of gain-shaping tasks, from surgical boost and EQ shadings to fuzzy, filtered, ready-to-rip-through-a-mix Jimmy Page/Beatles/Neil Young-style direct-to-desk tones. Even at extremes, the Airstrip is sensitive to touch, volume, and tone dynamics, enabling pivots from light (if very focused) overdrive to ’60s germanium-fuzz-like sounds with changes in guitar volume and tone. And though it’s dynamic and responsive, at many settings it also exhibits lovely compression tendencies, softening transients before giving way to wide-vista tone blooms—a great recipe for spare, lyrical, melodic leads with a ’60s biker-flick-soundtrack edge. Without any of its market-leading competitors around for comparison, it’s hard to say exactly how the Airstrip aligns with their EQ biases and core tones. What is certain is that there are scores of mellow to unconventionally aggressive colors here to explore.
AI, which generated this image in seconds, can obviously do amazing things. But can it actually replace human creativity?
Technology has always disrupted the music biz, but we’ve never seen anything like this.
AI has me deeply thinking: Is guitar (or any instrument) still valid? Are musicians still valid? I don’t think the answer is as obvious as I’d like it to be.
As a professional musician, I’ve spent the vast majority of my days immersed in the tones of tube amps, the resistance of steel strings under my fingers, and the endless pursuit of musical expression. Each day, I strive to tap into the Source, channel something new into the world (however small), and share it. Yet, lately, a new presence has entered the room—artificial intelligence. It is an interloper unlike any I’ve ever encountered. If you’re thinking that AI is something off in the “not-too-distant future,” you’re exponentially wrong. So, this month I’m going to ask that we sit and meditate on this technology, and hopefully gain some insight into how we are just beginning to use it.
AI: Friend or Foe?
In the last 12 months, I’ve heard quite a bit of AI-generated music. Algorithms can now “compose,” “perform” (with vocals of your choosing), and “produce” entire songs in minutes, with prompts as flippant as, “Write a song about__in the style of__.” AI never misses a note and can mimic the finer details of almost any genre with unnerving precision. For those who are merely curious about music, or those easily distracted by novelty, this might seem exciting … a shortcut to creating “professional” sounding music without years of practice. But for those of us who are deeply passionate about music, it raises some profound existential questions.
When you play an instrument, you engage in something deeply human. Each musician carries their life experiences into their playing. The pain of heartbreak, the joy of new beginnings, or the struggle to find a voice in an increasingly noisy and artificial online world dominated by algorithms. Sweat, tears, and callouses develop from your efforts and repetition. Your mistakes can lead to new creative vistas and shape the evolution of your style.
Emotions shape the music we create. While an algorithm can only infer and assign a “value” to the vast variety of our experience, it is ruthlessly proficient at analyzing and recording the entire corpus of human existence, and further, cataloging every known human behavioral action and response in mere fractions of a second.
Pardon the Disruption
Technology has always disrupted the music industry. The invention of musical notation provided unprecedented access to compositions. The advent of records allowed performances of music to be captured and shared. When radio brought music into every home, there was fear that no one would buy records. Television added visual spectacle, sparking fears that it would kill live performance. MIDI revolutionized music production but raised concerns about replacing human players. The internet, paired with the MP3 format, democratized music distribution, shattered traditional revenue models, and shifted power from labels to artists. Each of these innovations was met with resistance and uncertainty, but ultimately, they expanded the ways music could be created, shared, and experienced.
Every revolution in art and technology forces us to rediscover what is uniquely human about creativity. To me, though, this is different. AI isn’t a tool that requires a significant amount of human input in order to work. It’s already analyzed the minutia of all of humanity’s greatest creations—from the most esoteric to the ubiquitous, and it is wholly capable of creating entire works of art that are as commercially competitive as anything you’ve ever heard. This will force us to recalibrate our definition of art and push us to dig deeper into our personal truths.
“In an age where performed perfection is casually synthesized into existence, does our human expression still hold value? Especially if the average listener can’t tell the difference?”
Advantage: Humans
What if we don’t want to, though? In an age where performed perfection is casually synthesized into existence, does our human expression still hold value? Especially if the average listener can’t tell the difference?
Of course, the answer is still emphatically “Yes!” But caveat emptor. I believe that the value of the tool depends entirely on the way in which it is used—and this one in particular is a very, very powerful tool. We all need to read the manual and handle with care.
AI cannot replicate the experience of creating music in the moment. It cannot capture the energy of a living room jam session with friends or the adrenaline of playing a less-than-perfect set in front of a crowd who cheers because they feel your passion. It cannot replace the personal journey you take each time you push through frustration to master a riff that once seemed impossible. So, my fellow musicians, I say this: Your music is valid. Your guitar is valid. What you create with your hands and heart will always stand apart from what an algorithm can generate.
Our audience, on the other hand, is quite a different matter. And that’s the subject for next month’s Dojo. Until then, namaste.
Genuine, dynamic Vox sound and feel. Plenty of different tone-sweetening applications. Receives other pedals as nicely as a real amp.
Can get icy quick. Preamp tube presents risk for damage.
$299
Tubesteader Roy
tubesteader.com
The Roy is an exceedingly faithful Vox box that brings genuine tube dynamics to your pedalboard.
This is an interesting moment for amp-in-a-box pedals. It used to be novel to have a little box that approximated the tone signature of an iconic amp. Nowadays, though, modeling pedals and profilers can give you many digital emulations in one package. Nevertheless, there are still worlds of possibility in pedals that copy amp topology in discrete form—particularly when you add a real preamp tube to that mix.
That’s what Montreal builder Tubesteader did with the Roy, their entry in the Vox-Top-Boost-AC30-in-a-box race. The Roy is a 2-channel preamp and overdrive built around a 12AX7 vacuum tube—a design gambit that is relatively uncommon if not totally unique. The tube makes the Roy look much more vintage in spirit at a time when sleek, black Helixes and Fractals are overtaking stages. In some ways, it looks like an antique. It can sound like one in the best way too.
Riding the Tube
The Roy comes in a handsome brownish-red enclosure, with an unsurprising control layout. The rightmost footswitch turns the pedal on and off, and the one at left switches between the identical channels. Each channel has an output volume and gain knob; the controls on the right are assigned to the default channel, and when you tap the left footswitch, you engage the left-side control tandem. The treble and bass controls between the two volume and gain knobs are shared by the two channels, but a post-EQ master tone cut control, which rolls off additional treble frequencies, is mounted on the crown of the pedal beside the power input. The input and output jacks occupy the left and right sides, along with a 3.5 mm jack for external operation. The Roy runs at 12 volts and draws 350 mA, and the included power supply can be reconfigured easily for a range of international outlets.
Tubesteader’s literature says the pedal’s tones are generated via a high-voltage transistor in the first gain stage coupled with the 12AX7, which operates at 260 volts. That preamp tube is nested at the top of the enclosure’s face, underneath a protective metal “roll bar”. Trusty as it looks, when there is a glass element on the exterior of a pedal’s housing, there’s an element of vulnerability, and transporting and using the Roy probably requires a more conscientious approach than a standard stompbox.
Royal Tones
Compared to the Vox's own Mystic Edge, an AC30-in-a-box from Vox powered by Korg’s NuTube vacuum fluorescent display technology, the Roy feels warmer, and more dynamic, proving that the 12AX7 isn’t just there for looks. The Mystic Edge could sound positively icy compared to the Roy’s smooth, even breakup. The Roy is very happy at aggressive settings, and in my estimation, it sounds best with output volumes driving an amp hard and the pedal’s gain around 3 o’clock. That recipe sounds good with single-coil guitars, but with a P-90-loaded Les Paul Junior, it achieves roaring classic-rock greatness. I’ve always felt Voxes, rather than Marshalls, are better vehicles for dirty punk chording. The Roy did nothing to dissuade me from that belief. And the pedals' midrange punch and bark in power-chord contexts lent authority and balance that makes such chords hit extra hard.
Though the Roy creates many of its own tasty drive tones, it really comes to life when pushed by a boost or overdrive, much like a real amp. When I punched it with a Fish Circuits Model One overdrive, the Roy was smoother and less spiky than a cranked AC30, yet there was plenty of note definition, attack, and the harmonic riches you’d turn to an AC for in the first place. A JFET SuperCool Caffeine Boost also brought additional depth and color to the output and broadened the pedal’s voice.
If you’re most comfortable with a real Vox amp, the Roy is a reliable and familiar-feeling stand-in when managing a different backline amp. In at least one way, though, the Roy is, perhaps, a bit toofaithful to its influence’s design: There’s a lot of treble on tap, and it’s easy to cook up tinnitus-inducing frequencies if you get too aggressive with the treble control. Noon positions on the cut/boost tone knobs sound pretty neutral. But I found it difficult to push the treble much past 2 o’clock without wincing—even with the tone cut control set at its darkest. (This quality, of course, may make the Roy a good match for squishier Fender-style designs). The relationship between the Roy’s treble and bass controls also takes time to master. The two don’t just add or boost their respective frequencies, but also add or subtract midrange, which can result in intense and sudden gain-response changes. As a general guideline, a light touch goes a long way when fine tuning these frequencies.The Verdict
The Roy isn’t exactly a bargain at $299. Then again, this Vox-in-a-box can stand in for real-deal Top Boost tones and the 2-channel design means you can move between an AC’s chimey cleans and ripping cranked sounds in a flash. If you’re squarely in the Vox amp camp, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more authentic means of achieving that range of clean-to-crunchy sounds.