Every now and then, similar enough products are released within a short enough span to provide us with the opportunity to do a proper shootout. Recently, three major manufacturers
Every now and then, similar enough products are released within a short enough span to provide us with the opportunity to do a proper shootout. Recently, three major manufacturers – Electro-Harmonix, Eventide and TC Electronic – announced highly-anticipated delay pedals in close enough succession that this perfect storm seemed like it might actually take place.
But as soon as we began plugging them in we realized that apart from being digital delays, they were all dissimilar enough to make head-to-head comparisons difficult, with each tailored for very different individuals and featuring their own, unique personalities. In short, they each fill different needs which run the gamut from studio-derived efficiency to anarchic flying-saucer tone generation.
So, rather than a shootout, look upon this article as a guide to help rid you of the remaining cash in your checking account and that last little bit of empty space on your pedalboard.
Eventide TimeFactor
The TimeFactor delay is Eventide’s first, highly-anticipated foray into the world of stompboxes. Having been fortunate enough to have putzed with some of their studio gear in the past, I was really looking forward to seeing how well their build quality and renowned effects translated to the less rarified domain of guitar pedalboards.
After the ten minutes it took me to free the TimeFactor from some of the most impenetrable packaging this side of a Transformers toy, its heft, thoroughly laidout back panel and generous number of knobs demonstrated this was no halfhearted attempt. The attention to detail, coupled with the thoughtful inclusion of a quick reference guide, a sticker and even a few picks, was impressive.
In a hurry to plug in, I checked out the back panel, which starts off traditionally enough by featuring an A/C input, USB port, Expression Pedal jack and a 1/4 input for an optional Auxiliary Switch. Where things get interesting is the inclusion of an Amp/Line Level switch, giving the TimeFactor the flexibility to handle studio and live chores in addition to its primary, guitar-specific focus. Next up are two Output jacks, two Input jacks and an In Level switch allowing the input signal the same freedom afforded the output by providing Guitar and Line selections. Feeling a little intimidated by the 11 knobs and three switches populating the pedal’s face, I decided to plug in mono and give it the music store demo – no manual, no cheat sheet, just plenty of false bravado. I scrolled through the delay types using the Encoder knob, auditioning DigitalDelay, VintageDelay, TapeEcho, ModDelay, DuckedDelay, BandDelay, FilterPong, MultiTap, Reverse and Looper. Count this bifocal-toting geezer as an ardent fan of what Eventide refers to as the “Billboard Display,” allowing easy reading from true eye-to-floor distances. With minimum knob fiddling I was easily able to pull some truly musical delays from this box. In fact, I tranced-out – completely sober, I should add – on the BandDelay setting for about 20 minutes, using the Tap switch to get some in-time, spaced out, wah’ddelay grooves which were more satisfying than a frozen Snickers after a Widespread Panic show. The other settings – particularly TapeEcho – all shined as brightly, with even the DigitalDelay mode exuding plenty of musicality and warmth.
I wasn’t expecting too much as I scrolled through to Looper mode. Having already received a small, mono sampling of the TimeFactor’s delays, I figured the engineering budgets had been blown on cramming studio-quality delays into a relatively small box and that the Looper would be little more than a cursory addition. Later, after coming out of a loopinspired, half-hour time lapse, I reckoned that my previous assumption may have been premature. Although my past looper experiences have been limited to more readily available units – DigiTech’s JamMan and a Boss Loop Station – I found nothing to complain about here, and as always, the emanating sounds never gave up any musicality. I also finally conceded that I had gone as far as I was able before needing to reference the included cheat sheet and manual.
Opening the manual offered a glimpse into the minds at Eventide, and displayed the same thoughtful layout as the TimeFactor itself. Starting logically enough with the various options for routing signal in and out of the TimeFactor, the manual then goes on to outline how to choose the proper form of bypass for the intended usage, offering DSP Bypass (default), Relay Bypass/True Bypass and DSP+DLY Bypass. These settings are easy enough to access, requiring minimal drilling down while remaining challenging enough to keep them safely hidden from accidental changes, and offering a choice in bypass is another thoughtful, welcomed feature.
In fact, while walking users through the controls, the manual laid out the logic behind the layout of the TimeFactor’s controls. The Encoder soft knob is the go-to control while navigating this delay, primarily controlling the selection of individual effects, and, as with most small, powerful pieces gear, about a bazillion other things in various modes. The remaining knobs are split into two rows, with the top row set aside for quick and basic effects parameter settings such as Delay Mix, Delay Time A, Delay Time B, Feedback A and Feedback B. Since the TimeFactor offers two separate delays to be used at once (alas, not two separate effects), the Delay Time A and B knobs control the time settings from 0 to 3000 milliseconds with Tempo off – which is switched on and off by the, you guessed it, Encoder knob. When Tempo is on, the Tap switch handles time settings with the Delay Time knobs taking care of the rhythmic subdivisions of the set tempo, allowing easy dial-up of complex dual-delays. A and B Feedback knobs are provided to offer additional separate controls over both delays.
To the left of the Delay Time knobs is Delay Mix, residing somewhat paradoxically next to the Mix control at the top left corner. Although similarly named, these two knobs handle very different chores. Mix takes care of overall wet/dry mix levels, while Delay Mix handles the relative level between the two delay times. When using the TimeFactor in mono mode, with Delay Mix set at zero, only Delay A’s output will go to the amp. When the knob is at noon, the signal is an equal amount of both delays, and with Delay Mix at one-hundred percent, only Delay B’s output will see the light of day. In stereo mode, it acts like a true mix control – at zero, Delay A travels to both outputs; at twelve o’clock Delay A goes to Output 1 and Delay B is routed to Output 2; when the knob is at 100%, Delay B goes to both outputs.
On the second row, we are greeted by the Xnob which handles various chores depending on which effect is selected. For instance, when using the TapeEcho effect it controls hiss. Sweet! Next in line is the Depth control, which, while still using the TapeEcho delay, controls wow. The next knob, Speed, controls flutter, and the Filter control handles the virtual tape delay’s frequency response. Switching to a different effect re-assigns the functions of the knobs on the bottom row, making sense of their segregation. For all of the cowboys out there, the blissfully huge Billboard Display flashes each knob’s function as soon as it senses any movement.
The footswitches, which are set up logically enough that I was able to use the Looper function without any prior reading, consist of Active, Repeat and Tap from left to right. The Active switch toggles from Active to Bypass, while the Repeat switch toggles the infinite function off and on. Tap handles timing duties when Tempo is on, and also switches from Play to Bank mode. Bank mode allows for 20 total presets, offering ten banks with two presets each. While initially sounding somewhat limiting, the two-preset-per-bank approach works well by offering the ability to group two similar settings together for quick changes within a song. Users can store their own presets here, and by switching the Global command off or on allow the user-defined Presets to come up with or without the corresponding Tempo and Mix settings.
The Final Mojo
All of the great interface design in the world is no concession to bad tone, and thankfully, the most negative thing I can say about the sounds that the TimeFactor produced is that the first of four loops started sounding a little grainy after zoning out for a while. Otherwise, the TimeFactor’s effects echoed its design by producing the right tone with a minimum of fuss and bother. Like its bigger, Ultra- Harmonizer effects processor siblings, the TimeFactor allows great tone to be dialed in with relative ease while still allowing the ability to go deep and tweak and edit nearly every parameter when needed. As far as using the TimeFactor live, which seems to be its forte, its on-the-fly tweakability coupled with the ability to store presets should offer enough flexibility to coax really usable sounds for the more adept among us. If you just want a little slapback to get your Luther Perkins on, the TimeFactor is complete overkill – stick with a simple, bucket-brigade pedal. But if you rely on delay for everything from wobbly, tube-Echoplex-getting-hot tones to spaced-out Frippertronic excursions, the TimeFactor is definitely worth an audition.
Buy if...
your delay needs aren’t easily encompassed and you crave quality tones
Skip if...
your ideal delay has three knobs
Rating...
MSRP $499 - Eventide - eventide.com |
TC Electronic ND-1 Nova Delay
I’ve got some shitty news for you, and to make it go down harder, it’s phrased in the form of a theorem, those nasty little mathematical statements that make ninth graders’ cheeks pucker.
An effects processor’s complexity is inversely proportional to its cost. In a nutshell, the more you pay, the less time you’ll spend twiddling knobs around to find killer tones and textures. Instead, they spill out freely, almost unintentionally. And it makes sense – why would an A-list producer want to spend more than a millisecond watching an engineer dial up a little slapback on a vocal track? The day he hears, “Man, I’ve got the perfect patch – just give me a second,” is the day a new engineer starts.
TC Electronic is no stranger to these demanding environments and has produced several ubiquitous and easy to use studio processors. I remember the first time I was instructed to patch in a TC 2290 and get some ambient delay going. It was easy enough that I felt a little guilty. The Nova gleefully revisits that guilt.
The Nova delay – apart from conjuring up pleasant and distracting images of Linda Harrison’s character in Planet of the Apes – is so intuitively designed it practically guarantees that the manual won’t need to be referenced until a preset needs to be saved, and that’s only if you’re near-sighted enough to miss the little prompt on the pedal itself. A good portion of this is due to a single feature – intelligent layout notwithstanding – that allows the Nova to sound so fine and fall into line with such ease. This killer app is the Color knob. The Color knob’s functionality isn’t anything new – it scrolls from Tape to Analog to Digital, changing the delay’s EQ response and other behaviors. What is new is how effectively TC has implemented it here, although there is a greater likelihood that the Color knob’s effectiveness has more to do with TC’s effects algorithms – which don’t suck, by the way. Where other manufacturers offer up switches that allow either/or scenarios, the continuously scrolling Color potentiometer allows the guitarist to get in-between Analog and Digital, or park it squarely on Tape and pretend Mary Ford’s cab was held up on the way to the studio.
The rest of the controls eventually come into play, starting with Delay, which kind of threw me for a loop. Remember the theorem? Well, the Nova’s Tap Tempo doesn’t require a physics degree to figure out, which, coupled with the Subdivision soft-knob, allowed me to set a tempo then scroll through the type of rhythmic value I wanted without ever touching the Delay knob. When I finally did, some odd, scroll-my-delay-to-nowhere thing happened. A quick glance at the pedal reminded me that the display was showing tempo. There were also some kind words instructing me to “hold subdiv for bpm on/off.” Once the Nova was displaying BPM, it made sense; moving past the Delay knob’s center détente position in either direction starts it scrolling either less or greater than the preset tempo. Once you arrive at the desired delay time, simply move the Delay control back to the détente. Feedback, Mod Level and Mix Level will be navigable for most, and offer up no surprises other than the feeling that the overall level of the delays is a little hot, with the Mix Knob rarely straying from between nine and ten o’clock, unless the repeat needed to be the same level as the original signal. It should be noted that the ND-1 was tested in front of an amp, not in an effects loop.
Below the familiar controls exist four soft-knobs to keep the Subdivision knob company: Manual, Preset, Mod Style and Type – what TC refers to as “Selectors.” Manual allows the pedal to react to the specific position of the other controls. Switching between Manual and Preset mode is accomplished by simply pressing and holding the On/Off footswitch for a second, or by pressing either the Manual or Preset soft-knobs. Once in Preset mode, users scroll through the factory presets or through their own concoctions, which can also be done via the Tap Tempo and On/Off switches – press Tap Tempo then scroll up with the On/Off footswitch. The Preset button also allows you to write your own presets much like setting the stations on your car’s radio – just select the factory preset you want to overwrite, dial up your setting, then press and hold the Preset button until the LED blinks.
The Mod Style control is another cool feature, offering up three different flavors of modulation for the delay repeats; the level of this feature is adjusted by the Mod Level pot up above. I spent most of my time unapologetically using Mod Style three, with the Mod Level full up and the Color knob pulled all the way back to Tape. The next control is Type, which along with Subdivision and the Tap Tempo switch, shoulders much of the responsibility for the ease with which the Nova serves up tasteful repeats. The first choice offered by Type is Direct Line – or meat and potatoes delay. Next is Dynamic, borrowed from the TC 2290, which in oversimplified terms is a smart ducking feature, with the delay chilling out while you pick – but never totally going away – and raising up when you’re done. It’s a really musical effect that should see plenty of use. Next up is Reverse, and TC won here. While the effect is usually hackneyed and embarrassing, the Danes have hit all the right notes with this one, making the ghost of Jimi sit up and say, “All right, man! All right!” Just remember to dime the Mix Level knob and roll back the Feedback knob, and enjoy some honest- sounding reverse effects. Ping Pong and Pan echos are cool, but really only come into play while in stereo. It’s nice that they’re there, although I’m still on the fence regarding the effectiveness of stereo guitar rigs in live situations, but for studio use, the pan feature in particular sounded fine, and added subtle depth to an otherwise vanilla two-amp setup. The final echo mode is Slapback, which is, well, slapback – everything from rockabilly- approved hiccups to seventies-flavored ADT effects are easily dialed up.
The final soft-knob is the Subdivision knob, labeled “subdiv.” This takes the tempo you input – either by tapping at least two beats into the Nova via the Tap Tempo footswitch or by holding the Tap Tempo switch down and picking quarter notes on your guitar – and lets you determine if the repeats will be quarter note, dotted-eighth or eighth note triplets. There are also settings for a delay plus delay, like quarter note plus dottedeighth, quarter note plus eighth-note triplet and sixteenth note plus dotted-eighth.
The Final Mojo
The studio-quality algorithms, coupled with easy, almost intuitive access and effective real-time manipulation equals a home run for both TC and guitar players ready to pony up and Velcro a high-end delay to their pedalboard. And the coolest part is the Nova ND-1 flies in the face of mathematical absolutes, falling more in line with the familiar English dictum stating for every rule there is an exception – that exception is that the ND-1’s street price is less than a good analog delay. Sure, there’s no looping function or inputs for expression pedals, but for a meat and potatoes, throw-it-in-your-gigbag delay, the TC is unbeatable.
Buy if...
you want a high-quality, extremely musical yet intuitive delay
Skip if...
the lack of a looper is a deal breaker
Rating...
MSRP $345 - TC Electronic - tcelectronic.com |
Electro-Harmonix Stereo Memory Man with Hazarai
I worry a lot, and contemplating running the Stereo Memory Man with Hazarai through its paces for this article wasn’t helping things. My concern was that the pedal wouldn’t be able to hold its own against the other delays in this roundup – the TC Nova and the Eventide TimeFactor. After all, the other offerings are culled from successful studio processors, while EH’s more successful pedals have been known for sounding great with the caveat of quirkiness.
Luckily, for the Stereo Memory Man with Hazarai (now SMMH) the quirks work, an observation which, surprisingly, was reinforced after spending a couple of weeks playing with the ND-1 and the TimeFactor. Unlike those two pedals, the SMMH doesn’t so much let the player tell it what to do, but, after demanding unconditional acceptance, offers itself as another instrument in your arsenal. Just like no one would ever assume that a Les Paul is the go-to guitar for delicate, stringy sounds, choosing the SMMH to offer up guitarspecific, studio-quality delays makes about as much sense. Instead, the SMMH’s forte is inspiring new riffs or adding a new twist to your playing, reminding me of the first modulation-based effect I ever purchased: an EH PolyChorus, probably one of the more “musical” sounding effects I’ve ever played. I placed quotes around “musical” to acknowledge that I both overuse the term as well as use it to mean two different things. One is the way it was used in the ND-1 review, meaning once set up, the effect is never in the way of the music – it does what it should “musically.” The other definition reflects the way I’ve used it here – it mucks your signal up like nobody’s business, but in an inspiring, “musical” way.
Like most other great EH effects, the SMMH imparts a familiar “live” sound unique to their pedals – bright, but never brittle, almost like a faint, high-frequency hum from a CRT. Setting the SMMH up sans manual is a snap, once you become acclimated to its way of doing things. Across the top are knobs for Blend, Decay, Filter, Repeats, Delay and the incongruous white knob that has tongues wagging everywhere – Hazarai. Rather than revisit the definition of the word ad nauseum, conceptually, it’s about full measure, something EH has always offered by way of some control or feature that initially prompts you to scratch your head and say, “What the hell?” while becoming integral shortly thereafter. On the SMMH, Hazarai is primarily responsible for navigation, scrolling through the various effects available: echoes of 3 Seconds, 1 Second or 300 mS + Mod; 3 Second, 1 Second or 1 Second + Rev Multi Tap delays; and Reverse Echo or Loop functions under the aptly labeled Déjà Vu section.
As an example of what the SMMH is and isn’t, let’s look at the Reverse Echo function, which I accessed using the Hazarai knob. I then turned the Blend knob all the way up to hear only the effected signal, dialed the Repeats control up to around 25 percent to add a few backwards repeats and started playing. What came out of my amp sounded phenomenal – jaw-droppingly good backwards guitar sounds. Rolling the Blend control back up to 50 percent brought in some straight signal for even sweeter textures. Now for the idiosyncratic part – the phrases were limited to six second bursts with the Delay knob at 100 percent, which isn’t a problem if you are playing continuously, but leave some space and a too-abrupt decay becomes apparent. With the Repeat knob either off or above fifty percent, this issue goes away. I would normally count this as a negative, but in this case, the effect sounded so good that this glitch was okay.
The Loop function had similar quirks. Recording the first loop is super easy and sounds great – just step on the Tap/ Record switch for the duration of your loop, and when you let go, you’re off. As a bonus, your echo settings are left intact, so that super cool, rhythmic multitap delay part remains after the loop is recorded. The issues start when going to record the next loop – a drop in volume occurs on the first loop, rendering it next to inaudible. For some, this is another potential deal-breaker, but it ultimately left me unfazed, perfectly content to accept this as another of the SMMH’s peccadilloes, and I’m generally what you would call a picky bastard. Has the power of Hazarai reached out and turned me into some acceptance-spouting, peaceloving hippy? Let’s hope not.
Now that some of the pedal’s quirks have been addressed, we can talk about what I feel is one of the core strengths of the SMMH; good, old-fashioned, kick-ass ambient delays and textures, much like EH’s earlier efforts. I was as happy as a pig in slop staying in the 300 mS + Mod setting and sweeping the Filter knob around choosing from several sweet spots. The Filter controls the delay’s high-pass/low-pass filter, going from warm, dark and rich to AM radio thin. Surprisingly, despite my hatred of all things thin and trebly, the extreme AM radio sounds were quite usable for syncopated delay duties, taking the delay’s sonic footprint out of the initial signal’s way, leaving little more than rhythmic textures pulsing behind the original, while never becoming brittle. The warmer Filter settings in conjunction with the 300 mS + Mod offered up respectable Deluxe Memory Man impersonations, helping fuel a 20-minute homage to Keith Levine. Another cool setting is the smeared echo reverb-like effect. Dial it in per the manual’s suggested settings – start with the 3 Sec Echo setting, place Blend, Repeat and Filter at noon, Decay at 3 o’clock and you’re greeted with a fun, messy, overthe- top reverb effect. Pull the Repeat and Delay knobs all the way back, and park the Blend control around 10 o’clock for some manageable-yet-surrealistic reverb that would work well for David Lynch soundtracks. Additionally, cranking up the Decay knob and killing the repeats while in Reverse Echo mode creates an effect that would be perfect for some suspenseful background music in a creepy funhouse scene.
The Final Mojo
Pushing the Hazarai knob scrolls through the factory presets, and here is where all of the genius and tomfoolery that went into the design of this pedal becomes apparent. Robotic pulses, runaway feedback and metallic reverbs are the norm here, coming across like Easter eggs from the pedal’s designers – their way of saying, “Enjoy your journey together, just try not to get too hung up on where you’re going.” The SMMH presents itself as an unapologetic partner intent on exploiting what digital has to offer, like the friend your parents thought was trouble.
Buy if...
you’re in need of both a delay and a musical collaborator
Skip if...
you always use the same BPM for slapback
Rating...
MSRP $286 - Electro-Harmonix - ehx.com |
The Final, Final Mojo
If you’re looking for studio quality delays with a simple, straightforward interface and a nearly non-existent learning curve, our choice would be TC’s Nova Delay. If you are continually reaching the limits of your current delay’s capabilities and need pristine, high-end tones, check out Eventide’s TimeFactor, which rewards a little digging in the manual with deep editing options. Additionally, the inclusion of a surprisingly capable looper could possibly free-up some pedalboard real estate. The Stereo Memory Man with Hazarai fills the smart-assed, art-punk void, deftly offering up skronk for skronk’s sake while still effectively handling life’s more mundane delay chores, keeping well away from one-trick-pony status to emerge as a capable, cost-effective, dual-duty option. For all but the most hardcore champions of analog, nearly everyone should be able to find a good gigging partner among these three.
Check out our podcast to hear all three in action.
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Pedals, pedals, and more pedals! Enter Stompboxtober Day 13 for your shot at today’s pedal from Electro-Harmonix!
Electro-Harmonix Hell Melter Distortion Pedal
With its take on the cult-classic, chainsaw distortion pedal, the EHX Hell Melter takes distortion to its extremes. The Hell Melter features expanded controls and tonal capabilities, allowing the already in-your-face sound of the pedal to broaden by switching to more open clipping options and boosting the internal voltage for increased headroom, less compression, and more attack.
Originally designed as the ultimate in high-gain tone, this world-famous distortion circuit is known for the death metal sounds of Sweden’s Entombed and the shoegaze wash of My Bloody Valentine. It’s even found a home in the rig of David Gilmour!
The EHX Hell Melter’s expanded control set includes Gain and Level controls, and a powerful active EQ featuring with parametric mids for improved versatility. The Dry level control allows for blending your input signal for improved low-end when used with a bass or even blending in other distorted tones.
Boost Footswitch engages an input gain boost and volume boost which is internally adjustable. The Normal/Burn switch toggles between the classic chainsaw sound and the more open clipping option.
John Mayer Silver Slinky Strings feature a unique 10.5-47 gauge combination, crafted to meet John's standards for tone and tension.
“I’ve always said that I don’t play the guitar, I play the strings. Having a feeling of fluidity is so important in my playing, and Ernie Ball strings have always given me that ability. With the creation of the Silver Slinky set, I have found an even higher level of expression, and I’m excited to share it with guitar players everywhere.”
— John Mayer
hese signature sets feature John’s previously unavailable 10.5-47 gauge combination, perfectly tailored to his unique playing style and technique. Each string has been meticulously crafted with specific gauges and core-to-wrap ratios that meet John’s exacting standards, delivering the ideal balance of tone and tension.
The new Silver Slinky Strings are available in a collectible 3-pack tin, a 6-pack box, and as individual sets, offered at retailers worldwide.
"Very few guitarists in the history of popular music have influenced a generation of players like John Mayer. For over 25 years, John has not only been a remarkable artist but also a dear friend to the Ernie Ball family. This partnership represents our shared passion for music and innovation, and we can't wait to see how John’s signature Silver Slinky strings continue to inspire guitarists around the world.”— Brian Ball, CEO of Ernie Ball
Product Features
- Unique gauge combination: 10.5, 13.5, 17.5, 27, 37, 47
- John’s signature gauge for an optimal balance of tone, tension, and feel
- Reinforced Plain Strings (RPS) for enhanced tuning stability and durability
- Custom Slinky recipes tailored to John’s personal preferences
The folk-rock outfit’s frontman Taylor Goldsmith wrote their debut at 23. Now, with the release of their ninth full-length, Oh Brother, he shares his many insights into how he’s grown as a songwriter, and what that says about him as an artist and an individual.
I’ve been following the songwriting of Taylor Goldsmith, the frontman of L.A.-based, folk-rock band Dawes, since early 2011. At the time, I was a sophomore in college, and had just discovered their debut, North Hills, a year-and-a-half late. (That was thanks in part to one of its tracks, “When My Time Comes,” pervading cable TV via its placement in a Chevy commercial over my winter break.) As I caught on, I became fully entranced.
Goldsmith’s lyrics spoke to me the loudest, with lines like “Well, you can judge the whole world on the sparkle that you think it lacks / Yes, you can stare into the abyss, but it’s starin’ right back” (a casual Nietzsche paraphrase); and “Oh, the snowfall this time of year / It’s not what Birmingham is used to / I get the feeling that I brought it here / And now I’m taking it away.” The way his words painted a portrait of the sincere, sentimental man behind them, along with his cozy, unassuming guitar work and the band’s four-part harmonies, had me hooked.
Nothing Is Wrong and Stories Don’t End came next, and I happily gobbled up more folksy fodder in tracks like “If I Wanted,” “Most People,” and “From a Window Seat.” But 2015’s All Your Favorite Bands, which debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Folk Albumschart, didn’t land with me, and by the time 2016’s We’re All Gonna Die was released, it was clear that Goldsmith had shifted thematically in his writing. A friend drew a thoughtful Warren Zevon comparison to the single, “When the Tequila Runs Out”—a commentary on vapid, conceited, American-socialite party culture—but it still didn’t really do it for me. I fell off the Dawes train a bit, and became somewhat oblivious to their three full-lengths that followed.
Oh Brotheris Goldsmith’s latest addition to the Dawes songbook, and I’m grateful to say that it’s brought me back. After having done some catching up, I’d posit that it’s the second work in the third act, or fall season, of his songwriting—where 2022’s Misadventures of Doomscrollercracked open the door, Oh Brother swings it wide. And it doesn’t have much more than Dawes’ meat and potatoes, per se, in common with acts one or two. Some moodiness has stayed—as well as societal disgruntlement and the arrangement elements that first had me intoxicated. But then there’s the 7/4 section in the middle of “Front Row Seat”; the gently unwinding, quiet, intimate jazz-club feel of “Surprise!”; the experimentally percussive, soft-spoken “Enough Already”; and the unexpected, dare I say, Danny Elfman-esque harmonic twists and turns in the closing track, “Hilarity Ensues.”
The main engine behind Dawes, the Goldsmith brothers are both native “Angelinos,” having been born and raised in the L.A. area. Taylor is still proud to call the city his home.
Photo by Jon Chu
“I have this working hypothesis that who you are as a songwriter through the years is pretty close to who you are in a dinner conversation,” Goldsmith tells me in an interview, as I ask him about that thematic shift. “When I was 23, if I was invited to dinner with grownups [laughs], or just friends or whatever, and they say, ‘How you doin’, Taylor?’ I probably wouldn’t think twice to be like, ‘I’m not that good. There’s this girl, and … I don’t know where things are at—can I share this with you? Is that okay?’ I would just go in in a way that’s fairly indiscreet! And I’m grateful to that version of me, especially as a writer, because that’s what I wanted to hear, so that’s what I was making at the time.
“But then as I got older, it became, ‘Oh, maybe that’s not an appropriate way to answer the question of how I’m doing.’ Or, ‘Maybe I’ve spent enough years thinking about me! What does it feel like to turn the lens around?’” he continues, naming Elvis Costello and Paul Simon as inspirations along the way through that self-evolution. “Also, trying to be mindful of—I had strengths then that I don’t have now, but I have strengths now that I didn’t have then. And now it’s time to celebrate those. Even in just a physical way, like hearing Frank Zappa talking about how his agility as a guitar player was waning as he got older. It’s like, that just means that you showcase different aspects of your skills.
“I am a changing person. It would be weird if I was still writing the same way I was when I was 23. There would probably be some weird implications there as to who I’d be becoming as a human [laughs].”
Taylor Goldsmith considers Oh Brother, the ninth full-length in Dawes’ catalog, to be the beginning of a new phase of Dawes, containing some of his most unfiltered, unedited songwriting.
Since its inception, the engine behind Dawes has been the brothers Goldsmith, with Taylor on guitar and vocals and Griffin on drums and sometimes vocal harmonies. But they’ve always had consistent backup. For the first several years, that was Wylie Gelber on bass and Tay Strathairn on keyboards. On We’re All Gonna Die, Lee Pardini replaced Strathairn and has been with the band since. Oh Brother, however, marks the departure of Gelber and Pardini.
“We were like, ‘Wow, this is an intense time; this is a vulnerable time,’” remarks Goldsmith, who says that their parting was supportive and loving, but still rocked him and Griffin. “You get a glimpse of your vulnerability in a way that you haven’t felt in a long time when things are just up and running. For a second there, we’re like, ‘We’re getting a little rattled—how do we survive this?’”
They decided to pair up with producer Mike Viola, a close family friend, who has also worked with Mandy Moore—Taylor’s spouse—along with Panic! At the Disco, Andrew Bird, and Jenny Lewis. “[We knew that] he understands all of the parameters of that raw state. And, you know, I always show Mike my songs, so he was aware of what we had cookin’,” says Goldsmith.
Griffin stayed behind the kit, but Taylor took over on bass and keys, the latter of which he has more experience with than he’s displayed on past releases. “We’ve made records where it’s very tempting to appeal to your strengths, where it’s like, ‘Oh, I know how to do this, I’m just gonna nail it,’” he says. “Then there’s records that we make where we really push ourselves into territories where we aren’t comfortable. That contributed to [Misadventures of Doomscroller] feeling like a living, breathing thing—very reactive, very urgent, very aware. We were paying very close attention. And I would say the same goes for this.”
That new terrain, says Goldsmith, “forced us to react to each other and react to the music in new ways, and all of a sudden, we’re exploring new corners of what we do. I’m really excited in that sense, because it’s like this is the first album of a new phase.”
“That forced us to react to each other and react to the music in new ways, and all of a sudden, we’re exploring new corners of what we do.”
In proper folk (or even folk-rock) tradition, the music of Dawes isn’t exactly riddled with guitar solos, but that’s not to say that Goldsmith doesn’t show off his chops when the timing is right. Just listen to the languid, fluent lick on “Surprise!”, the shamelessly prog-inspired riff in the bridge of “Front Row Seat,” and the tactful, articulate line that threads through “Enough Already.” Goldsmith has a strong, individual sense of phrasing, where his improvised melodies can be just as biting as his catalog’s occasional lyrical jabs at presumably toxic ex-girlfriends, and just as melancholy as his self-reflective metaphors, all the while without drawing too much attention to himself over the song.
Of course, most of our conversation revolves around songwriting, as that’s the craft that’s the truest and closest to his identity. “There’s an openness, a goofiness—I even struggle to say it now, but—an earnestness that goes along with who I am, not only as a writer but as a person,” Goldsmith elaborates. “And I think it’s important that those two things reflect one another. ’Cause when you meet someone and they don’t, I get a little bit weirded out, like, ‘What have I been listening to? Are you lying to me?’” he says with a smile.
Taylor Goldsmith's Gear
Pictured here performing live in 2014, Taylor Goldsmith has been the primary songwriter for all of Dawes' records, beginning with 2009’s North Hills.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/Tinnitus Photography
Guitars
- Fender Telecaster
- Gibson ES-345
- Radocaster (made by Wylie Gelber)
Amps
- ’64 Fender Deluxe
- Matchless Laurel Canyon
Effects
- 29 Pedals EUNA
- Jackson Audio Bloom
- Ibanez Tube Screamer with Keeley mod
- Vintage Boss Chorus
- Vintage Boss VB-2 Vibrato
- Strymon Flint
- Strymon El Capistan
Strings
- Ernie Ball .010s
In Goldsmith’s songwriting process, he explains that he’s learned to lean away from the inclination towards perfectionism. Paraphrasing something he heard Father John Misty share about Leonard Cohen, he says, “People think you’re cultivating these songs, or, ‘I wouldn’t deign to write something that’s beneath me,’ but the reality is, ‘I’m a rat, and I’ll take whatever I can possibly get, and then I’ll just try to get the best of it.’
“Ever since Misadventures of Doomscroller,” he adds, “I’ve enjoyed this quality of, rather than try to be a minimalist, I want to be a maximalist. I want to see how much a song can handle.” For the songs on Oh Brother, that meant that he decided to continue adding “more observations within the universe” of “Surprise!”, ultimately writing six verses. A similar approach to “King of the Never-Wills,” a ballad about a character suffering from alcoholism, resulted in four verses.
“The economy of songwriting that we’re all taught would buck that,” says Goldsmith. “It would insist that I only keep the very best and shed something that isn’t as good. But I’m not going to think economically. I’m not going to think, ‘Is this self-indulgent?’
Goldsmith’s songwriting has shifted thematically over the years, from more personal, introspective expression to more social commentary and, at times, even satire, in songs like We’re All Gonna Die’s “When the Tequila Runs Out.”
Photo by Mike White
“I don’t abide that term being applied to music. Because if there’s a concern about self-indulgence, then you’d have to dismiss all of jazz. All of it. You’d have to dismiss so many of my most favorite songs. Because in a weird way, I feel like that’s the whole point—self-indulgence. And then obviously relating to someone else, to another human being.” (He elaborates that, if Bob Dylan had trimmed back any of the verses on “Desolation Row,” it would have deprived him of the unique experience it creates for him when he listens to it.)
One of the joys of speaking with Goldsmith is just listening to his thought processes. When I ask him a question, he seems compelled to share every backstory to every detail that’s going through his head, in an effort to both do his insights justice and to generously provide me with the most complete answer. That makes him a bit verbose, but not in a bad way, because he never rambles. There is an endpoint to his thoughts. When he’s done, however, it takes me a second to realize that it’s then my turn to speak.
To his point on artistic self-indulgence, I offer that there’s no need for artists to feel “icky” about self-promotion—that to promote your art is to celebrate it, and to create a shared experience with your audience.
“I hear what you’re saying loud and clear; I couldn’t agree more,” Goldsmith replies. “But I also try to be mindful of this when I’m writing, like if I’m going to drag you through the mud of, ‘She left today, she’s not coming back, I’m a piece of shit, what’s wrong with me, the end’.... That might be relatable, that might evoke a response, but I don’t know if that’s necessarily helpful … other than dragging someone else through the shit with me.
“In a weird way, I feel like that’s the whole point—self-indulgence. And then obviously relating to someone else, to another human being.”
“So, if I’m going to share, I want there to be something to offer, something that feels like: ‘Here’s a path that’s helped me through this, or here’s an observation that has changed how I see this particular experience.’ It’s so hard to delineate between the two, but I feel like there is a difference.”
Naming the opening track “Mister Los Angeles,” “King of the Never-Wills,” and even the title track to his 2015 chart-topper, “All Your Favorite Bands,” he remarks, “I wouldn’t call these songs ‘cool.’ Like, when I hear what cool music is, I wouldn’t put those songs next to them [laughs]. But maybe this record was my strongest dose of just letting me be me, and recognizing what that essence is rather than trying to force out certain aspects of who I am, and force in certain aspects of what I’m not. I think a big part of writing these songs was just self-acceptance,” he concludes, laughing, “and just a whole lot of fishing.”
YouTube It
Led by Goldsmith, Dawes infuses more rock power into their folk sound live at the Los Angeles Ace Hotel in 2023.
A more affordable path to satisfying your 1176 lust.
An affordable alternative to Cali76 and 1176 comps that sounds brilliant. Effective, satisfying controls.
Big!
$269
Warm Audio Pedal76
warmaudio.com
Though compressors are often used to add excitement to flat tones, pedal compressors for guitar are often … boring. Not so theWarm Audio Pedal76. The FET-driven, CineMag transformer-equipped Pedal76 is fun to look at, fun to operate, and fun to experiment with. Well, maybe it’s not fun fitting it on a pedalboard—at a little less than 6.5” wide and about 3.25” tall, it’s big. But its potential to enliven your guitar sounds is also pretty huge.
Warm Audio already builds a very authentic and inexpensive clone of the Urei 1176, theWA76. But the font used for the model’s name, its control layout, and its dimensions all suggest a clone of Origin Effects’ much-admired first-generation Cali76, which makes this a sort of clone of an homage. Much of the 1176’s essence is retained in that evolution, however. The Pedal76 also approximates the 1176’s operational feel. The generous control spacing and the satisfying resistance in the knobs means fast, precise adjustments, which, in turn, invite fine-tuning and experimentation.
Well-worn 1176 formulas deliver very satisfying results from the Pedal76. The 10–2–4 recipe (the numbers correspond to compression ratio and “clock” positions on the ratio, attack, and release controls, respectively) illuminates lifeless tones—adding body without flab, and an effervescent, sparkly color that preserves dynamics and overtones. Less subtle compression tricks sound fantastic, too. Drive from aggressive input levels is growling and thick but retains brightness and nuance. Heavy-duty compression ratios combined with fast attack and slow release times lend otherworldly sustain to jangly parts. Impractically large? Maybe. But I’d happily consider bumping the rest of my gain devices for the Pedal76.