I believe that at one time or another, each and every one of us experiences moments of divine tone intervention— occurrences that inspire us and forever shape our concept of tone. It can be a power chord, a passing riff, or some type of hook that sucks you into the twilight zone, kicks your ass and spits you back out—something you hear on the radio or television, in a club, or at a local music store. Who knows, perhaps even in an elevator somewhere after a visit to the dentist, while you drool helplessly on the person standing next to you. Regardless, you can undoubtedly recall when and where these fortuitous moments happen to you. Such occasions become turning points along the path of your relentless pursuit of tone, as cherished as memories of your first time crawling into the back seat at the drive-in when you were 16. I can certainly recall my own moments, so I thought I would share them with you. Here are my top five pinnacle moments of divine tone discovery:
1. Montgomery Ward Home Stereo, circa 1974. I couldn’t afford an amp, but I had a cool Harmony copy of a Gibson Byrdland Guitar. My first drummer had a Montgomery Ward home stereo in his basement with a 1/4” instrument input on the front, so I thought I’d experiment by plugging my guitar directly into it. Holy horse nipples, Batman! It was one of my earliest experiences of playing through an amp that would actually distort with increasing volume. The tone was so raspy and overdriven; it was an awesome feeling. Eventually, I blew up that stereo, and the drummer’s angry mother threw a shoe at me. (Funny how an amplifier sounds best right before it blows up.) It would not be the last time I blew something up, or had something thrown at me.
2. Kiss Alive, circa 1975. It was the very first album I ever purchased. I paid for it with money I made mowing lawns, and I was addicted from the first play. I loved Ace Frehley’s tone and the energy of that record. It inspired me to buy my first Japanese Les Paul copy. My parents thought I needed therapy when they saw me becoming a Kiss freak—to this day they believe it’s the reason I’m as weird as I am. I joined the Kiss Army, started painting my face and sticking my tongue out all the time. I still have that double EP on original vinyl. I loved it.
3. “More Than a Feeling,” Boston, circa 1976. Riding home from football practice in my sister’s Ford Fairlane, I was in seventh grade and had just formed my first band. I recall that song coming on the radio, and I cranked it up through the Jensen Triaxials (remember those?). I had never heard such a frickin’ huge guitar sound. It literally took my breath away—not only because of the amazing tone, but because of how “up front” the guitar was in the mix. I bet Tom Scholz kept nudging the guitar faders up during mixdown when the engineer went to the bathroom. Scholz’s thick tone and unbelievable sustain led me to the discovery of my first Rockman.
4. “Do You Feel Like We Do,” Peter Frampton, circa 1977. Still celebrated as one of the greatest live albums of all time, Frampton Comes Alive! was my introduction to the Talk Box and a three-pickup Les Paul Custom. I recall the tone on this particular track was very inspiring, and Frampton’s silky smooth style was so incredible, I still get goose bumps when I hear it—Nuff Sed.
5. “Eruption,” Van Halen, circa 1979. Although accolades for this stunning bit of tone history can be somewhat overstated, you cannot deny its impact. I can remember hearing “Eruption” for the first time and thinking, “This changes everything.” While everyone else flipped out about the hammer-ons and dive bombs, I flipped out on the tone. That natural tube compression on this piece of history was undeniably badass. It’s still regarded as one of rock’s greatest tones—and it created an entirely new generation of guitar players. Not since Hendrix had the industry experienced such an influential guitar hero.
Musical styles certainly come and go (I’m still trying to figure out how my twelve-year-old daughter went from Hannah Montana to Slipknot in less than six months). Regardless of changing styles, though, tone is tone. Discovering tone is a continuous journey, and it usually starts with inspiration from an artist. Premier Guitar strives to present you up-close and personal sessions with the artists who have inspired so many moments of divine tone intervention. We aim to truly drill down with gearcentric players who are willing to share their personal tone secrets. This issue is certainly no exception, featuring two of the very best: Alex Lifeson and Adrian Belew, two cats who certainly know tone.
It is inspiring to be inspired, so enjoy PG’s artist coverage, as well as our news, stories, gear reviews, audio and video at premierguitar.com. Speaking of inspiration, check out the twins in photo below: a matching pair—Ibanez Korina Explorer and Vee—early lawsuit models to die for. 
Nuff Sed,
Trent Salter, Publisher
Truetone 1 Spot Pro XP5-PS 5-output Low-profile Isolated Guitar Pedal Power Supply
The XP5-PS is a package containing the 1 Spot Pro XP5, along with a 12Vdc 2.5A adapter, which allows you to power the XP5 without having a CS11. The adapter comes with an array of international plugs so that you can take it with your pedalboard anywhere in the world. Some musicians may even choose to get one of these, plus another XP5, to distribute their power around the pedalboard and have the dual XP5s acting as two pedal risers.
Reverend Vernon Reid Totem Series Electric Guitar - Shaman
Silos features six presets, tap tempo, one full second of delay time, and three voices—two of which are styled after bucket-brigade and tape-delay sounds. In the $150 price category, it’s not unusual for a digital delay to leave some number of those functions out. And spending the same money on a true-analog alternative usually means warm, enveloping sounds but limited functionality and delay time. Silos, improbably perhaps, offers a very elegant solution to this can’t-have-it-all dilemma in a U.S.-made effect.
A More Complete Cobbling Together
Silos’ utility is bolstered by a very unintimidating control set, which is streamlined and approachable. Three of those controls are dedicated to the same mix, time, and repeats controls you see on any delay. But saving a preset to one of the six spots on the rotary preset dial is as easy as holding the green/red illuminated button just below the mix and preset knobs. And you certainly won’t get lost in the weeds if you move to the 3-position toggle, which switches between a clear “digital” voice, darker “analog” voice, and a “tape” voice which is darker still.
“The three voices offer discernibly different response to gain devices.”
One might suspect that a tone control for the repeats offers similar functionality as the voice toggle switch. But while it’s true that the most obvious audible differences between digital, BBD, and tape delays are apparent in the relative fidelity and darkness of their echoes, the Silos’ three voices behave differently in ways that are more complex than lighter or duskier tonality. For instance, the digital voice will never exhibit runaway oscillation, even at maximum mix and repeat settings. Instead, repeats fade out after about six seconds (at the fastest time settings) or create sleepy layers of slow-decaying repeats that enhance detail in complex, sprawling, loop-like melodic phrases. The analog voice and tape voice, on the other hand, will happily feed back to psychotic extremes. Both also offer satisfying sensitivity to real-time, on-the-fly adjustments. For example, I was tickled with how I could generate Apocalypse Now helicopter-chop effects and fade them in and out of prominence as if they were approaching or receding in proximity—an effect made easier still if you assign an expression pedal to the mix control. This kind of interactivity is what makes analog machines like the Echoplex, Space Echo, and Memory Man transcend mere delay status, and the sensitivity and just-right resistance make the process of manipulating repeats endlessly engaging.
Doesn't Flinch at Filth
EarthQuaker makes a point of highlighting the Silos’ affinity for dirty and distorted sounds. I did not notice that it behaved light-years better than other delays in this regard. But the three voices most definitely offer discernibly different responses to gain devices. The super-clear first repeat in the digital mode lends clarity and melodic focus, even to hectic, unpredictable, fractured fuzzes. The analog voice, which EQD says is inspired by the tone makeup of a 1980s-vintage, Japan-made KMD bucket brigade echo, handles fuzz forgivingly inasmuch as its repeats fade warmly and evenly, but the strong midrange also keeps many overtones present as the echoes fade. The tape voice, which uses aMaestro Echoplex as its sonic inspiration, is distinctly dirtier and creates more nebulous undercurrents in the repeats. If you want to retain clarity in more melodic settings, it will create a warm glow around repeats at conservative levels. Push it, and it will summon thick, sometimes droning haze that makes a great backdrop for slower, simpler, and hooky psychedelic riffs.
In clean applications, this decay and tone profile lend the tape setting a spooky, foggy aura that suggests the cold vastness of outer space. The analog voice often displays an authentic BBD clickiness in clean repeats that’s sweet for underscoring rhythmic patterns, while the digital voice’s pronounced regularity adds a clockwork quality that supports more up-tempo, driving, electronic rhythms.
The Verdict
Silos’ combination of features seems like a very obvious and appealing one. But bringing it all together at just less than 150 bucks represents a smart, adept threading of the cost/feature needle.
EarthQuaker Devices Silos Multi-generational Time Reflection Delay Pedal
