
Yves Jarvis’ methods for simulating effects include using a whammy bar while riding his guitar’s volume for reversed guitar sounds. But many are done the old-fashioned way: manipulating tape on his TEAC reel-to-reel as it passes from one head to another.
Embracing battered 6-strings, lo-fi tech, tunings du jour, and his own restless muse, the singer-songwriter does whatever he can to make his guitar-playing life difficult.
Yves Jarvis—born Jean-Sébastien Yves Audet—is allergic to being complacent. “I don’t like to tune my guitar live,” the Canadian-born singer-songwriter says about his almost irrational fear of creative ennui. “I don’t even have a tuner. I like to make my entire set in the same tuning—that’ll be an alternate tuning, it’ll be something random. I force myself to find a way to reinterpret all my songs in the same tuning.”
In fact, Jarvis chooses one tuning for an entire tour. He does that although each of his songs first comes to life—as it is being written and recorded—in an original song-specific tuning. But tunings, at that early stage, are just compositional devices. Once a song is recorded, its tuning is forgotten, and when it’s time to hit the road, he relearns each song in the new tuning chosen for that tour. If he decides to reprise an older song, he learns it up yet again in that new tuning as well.
All that learning and tuning keeps Jarvis on his toes, which he finds exciting. “I get stuck in too many patterns, too many shapes, so I throw myself off,” he says. “I love being thrown off.”
Yves Jarvis - "Bootstrap Jubilee"
What was the tuning Jarvis used on his recent summer tour? Good question.
“I’m in D–A–D-something, that’s for sure,” he says. To figure out the rest, he brought his laptop—we spoke via Zoom—into another room with a piano. “Someone once asked me about my tuning at a show, and people think I’m being coy, but I actually don’t know what it is. I know how to get there with a guitar, but I don’t know what the notes are.”
He tuned up his guitar by ear, sat at the piano, and figured it out. It didn’t take long. His summer 2022 tuning was D–A–D–E–A–C#. It won’t be that again.
That type of unpredictable spontaneity is how Jarvis does everything. That explains his addiction to cheap gear, his aversion to pedals—which he never uses—and why he didn’t even bother with an amp on The Zug, his latest release, which he recorded at ArtScape, the artist-friendly place he was living in at the time. “It’s a subsidized-for-artists condo in Toronto [where rents are sky high] and the building is full of artists,” he says.
Yves Jarvis recorded his fourth album, The Zug, at Toronto’s ArtScape, a subsidized living space for artists. The Zug is a masterclass in lo-fi guitar orchestration on a limited budget.
The Zug is Jarvis’ fourth release since 2016 under the moniker Yves Jarvis (Jarvis is his mother’s maiden name), and prior to that he released the critically acclaimed Tenet under the name Un Blonde. In 2019, he was longlisted for a Polaris Music Prize. The Zug is an intimate collection of songs, and that means intimate, as in up close and personal. The vocals sound as if he’s whispering in your ear and letting you in on a joke. Jarvis plays all the instruments himself, and that includes an array of alternative timbres and sounds. “Noise was an issue,” he says about the challenges of recording in a condominium. “Nevertheless, I was playing the drums with chopsticks, but that was for feel, not for noise suppression.”
Chopsticks aside, most of the effects on The Zug were done with guitar. On songs like “At the Whims” and “Enemy,” Jarvis employs dramatic swells and backwards-sounding leads, which complement the more subtle fingerpicking and gentle warbles on “Prism Through Which I Perceive” and “You Offer a Mile.” The album is also a masterclass in lo-fi orchestration. Check out “Why” and, especially, “Stitchwork,” with its string-sounding pulses and layered effects that are, in a simple way, almost Beatle-esque. All done with guitar, and on a very limited budget.
But lo-fi also has its share of challenges. “I need to invest in a vocal mic because it would be nice to not have to do 100 takes of the same thing,” Jarvis says about his idiosyncratic multi-layered vocal sound. “It started out as an aesthetic thing, being that I wanted to create this texture that was inspired by D’Angelo—many voices at once, perfectly stacked. But then, layering became a necessity because I was not pleased with the single takes. In order for all the nuances of my voice to translate to the recording, I have to have multiple layers.”
“But I’m not averse, at all, to effects. I have just always gotten off on forcing myself to simulate my own effects.”
That labor-intensive effort is how Jarvis gets his guitar tones as well. As mentioned, he doesn’t use pedals. “I can’t imagine looking down at a pedalboard, frankly,” he says. “I think I’m getting there in my growth as an artist where I see the potential of using pedals. But that’s precisely the problem—too much potential. Although I see where I could benefit with experimenting with new tech.”
The distortion sounds were created by running his guitar into an old TEAC reel-to-reel machine—and a single, loved, beaten reel of tape—and then into the open-source DAW Audacity, which is ultimately where everything ends up. “It’s nice to manipulate sound with such an analog piece,” he says about his tape machine. “I also like stretching and distorting the tape. I’ve never really used a different reel of tape. It’s been the same reel on there for years and years and years, and the degradation of that reel has really played into the sound of the guitar. I think the best example of it on the record is at the end of ‘What?’ That electric guitar solo is the most quintessential sound of my TEAC, for sure.”
But Jarvis’ aversion to pedals doesn’t come from some purist notion of tone craft. Rather, similar to choosing a new tuning for each tour, he sees limitations as a creative tool, albeit with ideological strings attached. “Constraints are very helpful for me,” he says. “I don’t like options—especially in our culture today where everything is custom. You go into a restaurant, and you can customize your order, I hate that. Tell me what to get, or don’t tell me what to get, but constrain me. Two options are all I need. That’s where the experimentation comes from—from some sort of physical parameter like playing percussion backwards, for example, so that the feel is different—just little things like that. But I’m not averse, at all, to effects. I have just always gotten off on forcing myself to simulate my own effects.”
Yves Jarvis’ Gear
Yves Jarvis plays solo acoustic at the Colony in Woodstock, New York, in February 2022. His acoustic is a Fender he bought for $50 in Gravenhurst, Ontario.
Photo by Michael O’Neal
Guitars
- Fender acoustic
- Hondo Formula I
- Yellow S-style
Recording/Sound Manipulation
- Tascam Portastudio 424 MkIII
- TEAC Reel to Reel
Strings
- Any brand, heavy gauge, usually starting with a .012 for the high E
Jarvis’ methods for simulating effects aren’t completely outlandish. His reversed guitar sounds—which you can hear on The Zug’s “Enemy”—are done with a whammy bar and riding his guitar’s volume knob. Some of his delay-like effects are done the old-fashioned way: manipulating tape as it passes from one head to another.
Yet despite his embrace of the reel-to-reel, his first love is a Tascam Portastudio 424 MkIII multitrack cassette recorder. “I’ve gone through maybe a dozen Tascam 424 MkIIIs,” he says. “That’s the only piece of gear that I know about, which is crazy. Ten years ago, I got them for $100 bucks a pop every time. Now they’re $1,000 bucks.”
Another outgrowth of his quest for unpredictability is how Jarvis uses a capo, which he often places high up on the neck at around the 8th or 10th fret. He prefers it like that, with the strings taut, similar to a smaller-scale instrument like a ukulele or mandolin. It opens up a very different world of harmonics and other sonic possibilities, although he has more pedestrian reasons for using a capo, too, which is the difference in how he sings live versus the studio.
Once Jarvis records a song, its tuning is forgotten. When it’s time to hit the road, he relearns each song in a new tuning chosen for that tour. His 2022 tuning was D–A–D–E–A–C#.
Photo by Michael O’Neal
“I like my voice to be like a whisper on recordings, but live I like to really sing,” he says. “That’s the thing: The textural qualities that I’m looking to lay down on the record are not at all similar to what I’m trying to do live. Live, I like to be clear-eyed vocally, and with recordings I want it to be more of a whisper. That’s the main impetus for the capo, too. I usually perform the song much higher than the recording—although I also use a capo because I usually use pretty shitty gear—and I like the guitar to have that twang, that sharpness of a mandolin or something very taut.”
In Jarvis’ telling, that sharpness can take on a somewhat mystical feel as well. He’s searching for a certain synchronized resonance between his voice and the instrument’s natural vibrations. “I’m definitely making an effort to match those resonances,” he says. “The guitar on the chest, the guitar on the belly, and amplifying that, and amplifying each other. I feel that is a very deconstructive process in the studio, and then live it’s something that I’m trying to have as a unit, a package of songwriting.”
And just in case you think Jarvis doesn’t do enough to avoid becoming complacent, his instruments of choice are usually low-budget starter guitars, which, obviously, come with their own issues and quirks.
“I’m excited to plug in a cool guitar that I just got back. It’s a guitar I’ve had since I was a little kid: an electric Hondo. It’s an Explorer shape. It’s red and it’s got all these stripes on it.”
And his electric?
“I’m excited to plug in a cool guitar that I just got back,” he says. “It’s a guitar I’ve had since I was a little kid: an electric Hondo. It’s an Explorer shape. It’s red and it’s got all these stripes on it. I left it at my buddy’s when I lived in Calgary as a kid, and then he had it for 10-plus years. He fixed it up for me. He just gave it back and it sounds amazing. That’s a guitar that I’m really excited to have back because it’s just so dirty and gritty and sounds just straight off Neil Young’s Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere, which is a beacon for me in terms of electric guitar tone.”
It’s not a gimmick. Jarvis is a unique, forward-thinking artist, and, ultimately, the tricks he employs make for engaging, compelling music—music that takes on new life with every retelling. “Because of the improvisational nature of the production, relearning my music and restructuring it in a more traditional format is really an exciting thing for me,” he says.
It’s exciting for his listeners, too.
Yves Jarvis - Full Performance (Live on KEXP at Home)
In this intimate acoustic performance recorded for Seattle’s KEXP radio, Yves Jarvis plays five songs with assistance from his faithful capo.
This is perhaps the most rare Iwase guitar: one volume, one tone, and a quality adjustable bridge, plus a raised pickguard and some beautiful shading on the burst.
A 6-string found in the workshop of the late luthier Yukichi Iwase may be the only one of these small, nearly full-scale guitars. Our columnist tells the story.
I’ve been thinking a lot about snowflakes lately. We are getting some snowy weather up my way, but there’s a few other items rattling around in my mind. Like, I just got a car for my daughter (thanks to those who bought guitars from me recently), and it’s so freakin’ cool. I bought her a Mini Cooper, and this thing is so rad! I was doing research on these models, and each one is sorta different as far as colors, racing stripes, wheels, etc. Her friends say she has a “main character” car, but you’ll probably have to ask a teenager whatthat means.
And then my mind wandered to my college days, when I was an English major. I got to read and write every day, and I thought I was getting good at it until a professor raked me over the proverbial coals for using the word “unique” incorrectly when describing a local band’s sound. He really tore me up, because if I describe something as unique, it should be like none other—like a snowflake.
So, what about guitars? Is a custom-shop model unique if it has the same pickups and same scale as many others? Even if the body is shaped differently? Seriously, that professor would hand you your butt because, in his mind, you didn’t just choose words unless you understood their real meaning. Consider the super-rare Teisco T-60 … the model that Glen Campbell loved and played for much of his early career. I know of only four in existence. There are some Japanese collectors who own hundreds of guitars but don’t have a T-60. Does that make the T-60 unique, or simply rare? I mean, they were all hand-made and featured that original hole-in-the-body “monkey grip” … but unique? Talk amongst yourselves for a hot minute.
“In my waning days of collecting, I just want to have Voice stuff, because I met Iwase and connected with him immediately.”
I recently wrote about the passing of the great Japanese luthier Yukichi Iwase, whose small company (basically just him) produced some of the finest guitars and amps and carried the “Voice” label. A friend in Japan, along with his daughters, were in the process of clearing out his old workshop, and I’ve been trying to acquire everything from it that I can. I used to collect just Teisco stuff, and then I had a passion for the old Intermark/Pleasant guitars. Then I wanted to get all the old Yamaha stuff I could find. But now, in my waning days of collecting, I just want to have Voice stuff, because I met Iwase and connected with him immediately. He was a peach, and, yes, he was unique. Aside from being one of the earliest employees of Tesico, he was a brilliant fellow who could make just about anything from scratch, including guitars and amps. Left in his workshop were a few unfinished T-60s, some pedal steels, some amps, a really cool bass, an unfinished double-neck guitar, and a tiny guitar that is also truly worthy of the term “unique.”
“I know these pickups well enough to understand they are loud, crisp, and offer a full range of sounds,” our columnist says.
The latter is a small powerhouse of a guitar. It has one of his amazing pickups that looks like a big block engine stuffed into an AMC Gremlin. He somehow squeezed out a 23" scale, but the rest of the guitar is like a child’s 6-string or a travel guitar. I believe he only made one of these. The body design has an ocean-wave type of flow, and the guitar is very balanced and not hard on the eyes, even with the exaggerated features. One volume, one tone, and a quality adjustable bridge plus a raised pickguard—the only time I’ve seen this design on his guitars. His finish work was really nice, too, and he was able to get some beautiful shading on the burst. The headstock has a figured overlay and the neck profile is so sweet—curved perfectly with some fine wood.
To me, it seems to have been built around 1966, based on the tuners he used. I don’t have the heart yet to plug this into an amp, but I know these pickups well enough to understand they are loud, crisp, and offer a full range of sounds. So, what do you think? Rare? Truly unique?
In this episode of 100 Guitarists, we’re talking all things surf rock, from reverb to tremolo picking and much more. And while “Misirlou” is undisputedly his most influential work, maybe Dale’s best records didn’t come until a few decades later.
“All the kids in all L.A. / Come to hear Dick Dale play,” or so goes the title track from Dick Dale’s Wrecking Crew-heavy 1963 album, King of the Surf Guitar. Immodest though it might seem to proclaim such a status, he was indeed at the top of the heap.
For many, Dale’s legend precedes him. His sound, first heard in a So Cal beach ballroom, created the surf guitar vocabulary and transformed the guitar universe, starting with the 1962 release of his take on the traditional song “Misrlou.” Ever the showman, he worked closely with Leo Fender developing the right gear for the gig as he played his ripping instrumentals to larger and larger audiences. He also inspired a Hendrix lyric and had a late-career renaissance thanks to Quentin Tarantino.
In this episode of 100 Guitarists, we’re talking all things surf rock, from reverb to tremolo picking and much more. And while “Misrlou” is undisputedly his most influential work, maybe Dale’s best records didn’t come until a few decades later.
This episode is sponsored byTraveler Guitar.
Tetrarch, from left: Ryan Lerner, Diamond Rowe, Josh Fore, and Ruben Limas.
The heavy quartet, led by shredders Diamond Rowe and Josh Fore, returns with a second full-length that advances the nu-metal revival.
In ancient Rome, a tetrarch was one of four joint governors in one of four divisions in a country or province. Tetrarchy, as opposed to monarchy, represents shared governance. If there is any question as to which contemporary band can rule the borders and expand the boundaries of nu metal 25 years after its initial peak, Georgia’s Tetrarch might just hold the answer. Their latest release, The Ugly Side of Me, forms a uniquely unified musical front from four individuals who honor nu metal’s foundations with colossal choruses and maniacal guitar riffs, while also infusing the source material with post-modern industrial aggression and a healthy dose of socially conscious lyrical honesty. The Ugly Side of Meis a creative tour de force that should affirm Tetrarch’s status as one of nu metal’s most potent contemporaries, particularly among the genre’s faithful constituents.
Tetrarch was formed in Atlanta in 2007 by lead guitarist Diamond Rowe and lead vocalist/guitarist Josh Fore. As of 2025, the band is rounded out by bassist Ryan “Doom” Lerner and drummer Ruben Limas. Rowe and Fore initially played traditional metalcore before making a notable shift towards a more melodic sound on their independently released 2017 debut, Freak. Blending elements of nu metal and thrash, along with their metalcore influences, they honed in on a distinct sonic amalgamation and style, combining their signature creepy sounding guitar motifs with bone-crushing rhythms, melodic vocal melodies, and sub hooks.Unstable, released in 2021, drew greater comparisons to nu-metal progenitors like Slipknot and Korn, further entrenching Tetrarch within the hierarchy of that lineage.
Tetrarch’s third album, The Ugly Side of Me, features massive, needle-sharp production co-helmed by renowned producer Dave Otero, along with Rowe and Fore, and boasts a deftly executed combination of unrelenting brutality and undeniable charisma. The ’90s-industrial-infused single “Live Not Fantasize” is a real banger, featuring intense electronic flourishes, fast riffs, and Rowe’s dynamic, tantalizing guitar solos. An anthemic second single, “Never Again (Parasite),” balances monstrous grooves and massive atmosphere with incisive lyrics about facing our own darkest criticisms. The hypnotizing, metallic “Anything Like Myself” opens the album, while “Best of Luck” highlights the rhythmically nuanced interplay between Lerner and Limas.
YouTube It
Lead shredder Diamond Rowe takes the spotlight for a playalong to “Live Not Fantastize,” the first single off of Tetrarch’s new record.
Rowe and Fore have known each other since they were about 11 or 12, so it’s no surprise that they are musically so intimately compatible and completely in sync. “I feel like our playing styles melded into each other because we developed together,” explains Rowe. “We learned how to be in a band, how to play music, how to play shows, and how to play guitar together. When you’ve been playing and practicing with someone for so long, you just lock in, and our playing styles really complement each other. It was a natural progression.” Fore says that they would go to the library after school and instead of doing homework, they would play guitar. “We would print off books’ worth of guitar tabs and learn songs together,” he recalls. They’d also go to Guitar Center and “turn amps up way too loud and play for hours”–likely to the annoyance of the employees, he chuckles.
When it comes to their respective assignments within the band, Rowe plays more of the leads and single-note phrases while Fore, who is also the band’s frontman, plays more rhythm. “It’s very much rhythm and lead player roles,” affirms Rowe. “On choruses when Josh is playing big fat chords, I’ll play octaves or some melody lines, or on verses, if he’s playing some rhythm riff, I’ll do some weird creepy lead.” If it’s a riff-oriented rhythm part, they sometimes match up on those, but even then, Rowe often adds some kind of texture on top.
Fore and Rowe combine to create the band’s creative spark, and handle the bulk of the writing for new songs. For The Ugly Side of Me, they demoed material via their individual Pro Tools rigs and emailed files back and forth before jamming with the rest of the band. “Typically, it will start with me or Diamond coming up with a guitar riff,” explains Fore. “Sometimes one of us will come with a whole skeleton of a song and we’ll get in the room together and take it from there. Every song has its own way of coming together, but me and Diamond usually see it through.”
Tetrarch’s third album cements them as flagbearers of the new nu.
Diamond Rowe’s Gear
Guitars
- Jackson Signature Diamond Rowe Monarkh w/EverTune bridge
- Jackson American Series Soloist
Amps
- EVH 5150III EL34 100-watt head
- EVH 4x12
- EVH 5150III 50-watt head (for backup)
Effects
- Boss CH-1 Super Chorus
- Boss DD-7 Digital Delay
- Boss ES-8 Effects Switching System
- Boss RC-1 Loop Station
- Boss RV-6 Reverb
- DigiTech Whammy 5 Pitch Shift
- Dunlop KH95 Kirk Hammett Signature Cry Baby Wah
- Dunlop Volume (X) Mini
- Electro-Harmonix Small Stone Analog Phase Shifter
- Ibanez TS9 Tube Screamer
- ISP Decimator G String X Noise Reduction
- MXR Carbon Copy Analog Delay
- Strymon blueSky V2
- Two notes Torpedo C.A.B. M+
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball Beefy Slinky (.011–.054)
- Ernie Ball Skinny Top Beefy Bottom (.010–.054)
- Dunlop Jazz III black 1.38 mm
- Dunlop Jazz III black 1.35 mm
Josh Fore’s Gear
Guitars
- ESP E-II Eclipse
- ESP LTD EC-01FT
- ESP LTD AA-1 Alan Ashby Signature
- ESP LTD Eclipse
Amps
- EVH 5150III Stealth 100-watt head
- EVH 4x12
Effects
- Ibanez TS9 Tube Screamer
- ISP Decimator G String X Noise Reduction
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball Mammoth Slinky (.012–.062)
- InTuneGP GrippX 1.0 mm
For tracking, the guitarists mainly rely on plugins, “Mostly because of how easily you can change things on the fly,” explains Fore. For the new album, they leaned heavily on the Archetype: Gojira X by Neural DSP. The final product, what you hear on The Ugly Side of Me, was re-amped through the EVH 5150III. There’s no ego when they’re in the studio, so the decision of who plays which parts is simply a matter of who executes them the best. “Diamond will play some riffs, I will play some riffs,” says Fore. “We just swap the guitar back and forth. We’re like, ‘What’s the most efficient way? Who sounds better on this part?’ We just go with where the session takes us and try to get the best sounds and performances.”
The eerie signature sonic element that runs throughout all Tetrarch albums courtesy of Rowe’s inventive guitar-effects palette has helped establish the band’s identity. “When we first found it, Josh and I were playing around with POD Farm on the computer and it was just a sine wave chorus that nobody makes in a pedal,” recalls Rowe. “We were writing the song ‘Freak’ and looking for a weird sounding tone, and then it literally became a staple of our sound. For this album, we were like, ‘Alright, we’re not going to use that tone very much.’ We literally said that before making this record and yet here we are [laughter].”
As for their newfound status as the torchbearers of nu metal, Rowe says it’s not the label that matters most. “People could call us ‘progressive country metal,’ but what’s important is we’re writing the music that we really enjoy,” she attests. “Some of my favorite bands are Linkin Park, Slipknot, Disturbed, and Korn, but when I started playing guitar, Metallica was my all-time favorite band. And then, Zakk Wylde, Pantera, and Trivium—all of that was in there too, so I wouldn’t say nu metal was the only thing that I listened to, but it was a huge part of what I listened to.” Fore concludes with a similar sentiment: “People are going to perceive us how they’re going to perceive us. If they want to call us nu metal, then hell yeah, that sounds great.”
Analog modulation guided by a digital brain willing to get weird.
Fun, fluid operation. Capable of vintage-thick textures at heavier gain settings. High headroom for accommodating other effects.
MIDI required to access more than one preset—which you’ll probably long for, given the breadth of voices.
$369
Kernom Elipse
If you love modulation—and lots of it—you can eat up a lot of pedalboard space fast. Modulation effects can be super-idiosyncratic and specialized, which leads to keeping many around, particularly if you favor the analog domain. TheKernom Elipse multi-modulator is pretty big and, at a glance, might not seem the best solution for real estate scarcity. Yet the Elipse is only about 1 1/4" wider than two standard-sized Boss pedals side by side. And by combining an analog signal path with digital control, it makes impressive, efficient use of its size—stuffing fine-sounding harmonic tremolo, phaser, rotary-style, chorus, vibrato, flanger, and Uni-Vibe-style effects into a single hefty enclosure. Many of the effects can also be blended and morphed into one another using a rotary control aptly called “mood.” The Elipse, most certainly, has many of those.
Modulator With Many Masks
Anywhere pedal hounds meet and chat you’ll encounter spirited talk about the way pedals sound relative to a certain gold standard. It makes sense. Benchmarks are useful for understanding anything. But one of the things I like best about the Kernom Elipse is how it eludes easy comparison to such standards, and how the fluidity of its controls make it sound unique. As with any review, I compared the Elipse to as many pedals as I have that are relevant. Here, that included an Ibanez analog chorus, Phase 90 and Small Stone phasers, an optical Uni-Vibe-style pedal, a Boss BF-2,Mu-Tron Phasor II clone, and more. But what made the Elipse stand out in this company was function as much as sound. Operating the Elipse with an open mind, rather than a quest to replicate another pedal’s sound, leads to intriguing, unique, and unusual tones more specialized modulators don’t always offer.
“The Elipse is pretty ambitious for an analog modulator, but doesn’t spread itself too thin.”
Three of the Elipse’s controls—speed, mix, and depth—function predictably. The latter two controls, however, change function depending on the pedal’s mood (or mode). In tremolo mode, setting the mix at noon generates complex, warbly, and elastic harmonic tremolo-like textures. At maximum, it shifts to a more binary, on/off sound akin to optical or bias tremolo. In chorus/vibrato mode, the noon position marks a 50/50 wet/dry mix of pitch shift and dry signal—the ingredients for any chorus. At maximum, the signal is 100 percent wet, yielding pure pitch-shift vibrato. The shape control, meanwhile, adjusts the LFO waveform. In tremolo mode that means moving between triangle- and sine-wave pulses. The swirl control is the wild card of the bunch. It adds big-time dimension to the Elipse in all modes. Through most of its range, it slathers slow phase on whatever modulation is already bubbling and burbling. In the latter third of its range, though, it also adds gain, and by the time you reach maximum, the output is discernibly thickened in the low-midrange zone. The gain and low-mid bump helps compensate for the perceived volume loss intrinsic to modulation. But they also excite different segments of the harmonic spectrum as you manipulate other modulation-shaping parameters—adding expansiveness as well as the thickness you might miss from vintage modulators.
Enunciation Modulation
Compared to many of the modulation pedals I used for contrast, the Elipse has a high-mid-forward voice. This frequency bias has advantages. It lends most of the Elipse’s modulation textures a clear, airy essence that keeps their character present when adding fuzz or big delay and reverb effects. It makes some modulations less chewy, but it’s also easy to imagine such textures slotting easily into a mix where some thicker analog modulators would gobble up harmonic space.
The basic EQ profile also makes it easier to probe the nuances in the “in-between” voices, living in the liminal spaces between pedal moods. When you start to play with these blended textures and various blends of drive, shape, mix, and depth, you encounter many sounds that veer from vintage templates in cool ways. Lathering on gain from the swirl control and lazy depth rates made the hybrid chorus/flange intense, dreamy, and enveloping. Similar blends of slow, heavy harmonic tremolo and rotary speaker sounded massive too.
The Verdict
The Elipse is pretty ambitious for an analog modulator, but doesn’t spread itself too thin. Players looking for one or two very specific modulation sounds might find the interrelationships between the Elipse’s controls too complex. The inability to save more than a single onboard preset without a MIDI switcher might frustrate guitarists used to all-digital pedals’ preset capabilities. Players that already have MIDI switchers in their rigs, however, could fall hard for the ability to switch between Elipse’s myriad, complex, analog-colored textures. With or without MIDI, it is an excellent analog modulator that offers colors galore.