This prince among Princetons was brought fully to life with everything from a broken-in Jensen C12Q speaker to black-panel-style grille cloth and shoe polish.
I’ve hunted tone since I was a teenager, browsing through guitars, amps, pedals, and all the components that they are made of. I still buy or sell stuff every second month or so, mainly because it’s fun, but I also learn a lot in the process. This practice has helped me develop confidence in my preferences about what guitar tone to use in various styles of music.
It’s also fun sharing experiences with other tone hunters. So, I’d like to share the three amps that I most regret having sold. These memories bring me both pain and joy, and I hope they are useful in helping you to avoid similar mistakes.
There are two main reasons why I regret selling amps. Either I did not have the knowledge to understand or appreciate them, or I needed new sounds and did not have the know-how to achieve them. In the first category, I have to mention a 1968 Super Reverb, which was my second Fender tube amp after my No. 1 Super Reverb, which I talked about in my March 2021 column titled “Meet My 1965 Super Reverb—The Greatest Amp I’ve Ever Played.” The ’68 was a drip-edge transition model with a silver faceplate and black-panel innards, in very good condition. It was an AB763 circuit with cloth wiring and blue Mallory caps. It even had four well-performing, original CTS alnico speakers with square magnets mounted on the excellent, vertically floating baffle. My 1965 Super with CTS ceramic speakers was louder, punchier, heavier. It had the black faceplate and was almost twice as expensive. Altogether, this led me to sell the ’68 and keep the ’65. Fifteen years later I came across several other transition-era Super Reverbs and started learning to appreciate the mesmerizing clean tone, transparency, and excellent dynamics of lightly driven low-powered CTS alnicos. With the bright switch off, they deliver superior cranked tones as well. In fact, transition-era Super Reverbs probably have the best Fender clean tone I can think of. It hurts knowing that I had a very good one, when they were available for a lot less money. If you see a transition-era or early ’70s silver-panel Super with CTS alnicos, go for it.
"I miss having a portable and punchy amp that I am not afraid to lend out or haul around on gigs without a flight case."
Another example is a mid-’70s, beaten-looking Princeton Reverb that I bought for $700 in 2005. It was my main gig amp for years, and I did many modifications to make it fuller and louder. I plucked out the stapled and glued-in particle baffle board and inserted a floating plywood baffle with a broken-in 12" Jensen C12Q speaker. I installed a 25k mid-boost pot, to alter between clean, scooped tones and a British growl. I also installed a larger, Deluxe output transformer and a smaller coupling capacitor to prevent the flabby bass frequencies from entering the power amp section and the somewhat inefficient split-phase inverter. The firmer lower end and improved attack allowed hard picking-hand playing, which I appreciated as a die-hard SRV fan in my 20s. I remember replacing the bias resistor and finding the right pair of 6V6s for the deepest possible tremolo effect, too.
I also put on a black-panel-style grille cloth and faceplate, and treated the Tolex with black shoe cream for a shiny and healthy look, hiding the many ticks and scars. I sold it because someone offered me good money, even though I had spent more than I got in return. Now, I miss having a portable and punchy amp that I am not afraid to lend out or haul around on gigs without a flight case. My happiest memory of this amp was a blues cruise on a large, motorized sailboat on the Oslofjord. We had to tie ropes around the drum kit, and I secured the amp against the sail mast when the waves and wind increased. This warrior amp could do everything—much more than my current mint black-panel ’66 Princeton Reverb, which cost the same as a car.
Finally, there was a practice amp I sold because I didn’t use it often enough. In my previous column, “All Hail the Champ!,” I talked about my favorite travel amp—my ’66 Fender Champ, which only can deliver clean tones. Well, I used to have another small amp with even better clean tones and some of the best tube-driven preamp crunch you’ll find. It was a 5E3-circuit narrow-panel tweed Deluxe-style, built from a point-to-point amp kit, with high quality components. I experimented with several 12" speakers and found a surprisingly good pairing with an inefficient, modest Oxford speaker from a silver-panel Deluxe Reverb. The tone was fat and creamy and worked incredibly well as a vintage rock voice. It, too, now is gone.
I’d love to hear stories about your “lost” amps. Share them on PG’s social media feeds, or drop a letter!
Naturally, every recording Eddie Van Halen ever played on has been pored over by legions of guitar players of all styles. It might seem funny, then, to consider EVH solos that might require more attention. But your 100 Guitarists hosts have their picks of solos that they feel merit a little discussion. Some of these are deep cuts—get ready for some instrumental bonus tracks and Van Halen III mentions—and some are among the biggest radio hits of their time. Just because their hits, though, doesn’t mean we don’t have more to add to the conversation.
We can’t cover everything EVH—Jason has already tried while producing the Runnin’ With the Dweezil podcast. But we cover as much as we can in our longest episode yet. And in the second installment of our current listening segment, we’re talking about new-ish music from Oz Noy and Bill Orcutt.
Tinkering with theSDE-3 Dual Digital Delay suggested a similar, possibly enduring appeal. As an evolution of the Roland SDE-3000rack unit from the 1980s, it’s a texture machine, bubbling with subtle-to-odd triangle LFO modulations and enhanced dual-delay patterns that make tone mazes from dopey-simple melodies. And with the capacity to use it with two amps in stereo or in panning capacity, it can be much more dimensional. But while the SDE-3 will become indispensable to some for its most complex echo textures, its basic voice possesses warmth that lends personality in pedestrian applications too.
Tapping Into the Source
Some interest in the original SDE-3000 is in its association with Eddie Van Halen, who ran two of them in a wet-dry-wet configuration, using different delay rates and modulation to thicken and lend dimension to solos. But while EVH’s de facto endorsement prompted reissues of the effect as far back as the ’90s, part of the appeal was down to the 3000’s intrinsic elegance and simplicity.
In fact, the original rack unit’s features don’t differ much from what you would find on modern, inexpensive stompbox echoes. But the SDE-3000’s simplicity and reliable predictability made it conducive to fast workflow in the studio. Critically, it also avoided the lo-fi and sterility shortcomings that plagued some lesser rivals—an attribute designer Yoshi Ikegami chalks up to analog components elsewhere in the circuit and a fortuitous clock imprecision that lends organic essence to the repeats.
Evolved Echo Animal
Though the SDE-3 traces a line back to the SDE-3000 in sound and function, it is a very evolved riff on a theme. I don’t have an original SDE-3000 on hand for comparison, but it’s easy to hear how the SDE-3 bridges a gap between analog haze and more clinical, surgical digital sounds in the way that made the original famous. Thanks to the hi-cut control, the SDE-3’s voice can be shaped to enhance the angular aspect of the echoes, or blunt sharp edges. There’s also a lot of leeway to toy with varied EQ settings without sacrificing the ample definition in the repeats. That also means you can take advantage of the polyrhythmic effects that are arguably its greatest asset.
“There’s a lot of leeway to toy with varied EQ settings without sacrificing the ample definition in the repeats.”
The SDE-3’s offset control, which generates these polyrhythmic echoes, is its heart. The most practical and familiar echos, like quarter, eighth, and dotted-eighth patterns, are easy to access in the second half of the offset knobs range. In the first half of the knob’s throw, however, the offset delays often clang about at less-regular intervals, producing complex polyrhythms that are also cool multipliers of the modulation and EQ effects. For example, when emphasizing top end in repeats, using aggressive effects mixes and pitch-wobble modulation generates eerie ghost notes that swim through and around patterns, adding rhythmic interest and texture without derailing the drive behind a groove. Even at modest settings, these are great alternatives to more staid, regular subdivision patterns. Many of the coolest sounds tend toward the foggy reverb spectrum. Removing high end, piling on feedback, and adding the woozy, drunken drift from modulation creates fascinating backdrops for slow, sparse chord melodies. Faster modulations throb and swirl like old BBC Radiophonic Workshop sci-fi sound designs.
By themselves, the modulations have their own broad appeal. Chorus tones are rarely the archetypal Roland Jazz Chorus or CE type—tending to be a bit darker and mistier. But they do a nice job suggesting that texture without lapsing into caricature. There are also really cool rotary-speaker-like textures and vibrato sounds that offer alternatives to go-to industry standards.
The Verdict
The SDE-3’s many available sounds and textures would be appealing at $219—even without the stereo and panning connectivity options, a useful hold function, and expression pedal control that opens up additional options. The panning capabilities, in particular, sparked all kinds of thoughts about studio applications. Mastering the SDE-3 takes just a little study—certain polyrhythms can be dramatically reshaped by the interactivity of other controls and you need to take care to achieve identical results twice. But this is a pedal that, by virtue of its relative simplicity and richness and breadth of sounds, exceeds the utility of some similarly priced rivals, all while opening up possibilities well outside the simple echo realm
Reader: T. Moody
Hometown: Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
Guitar: The Green Snake
Reader T. Moody turned this Yamaha Pacifica body into a reptilian rocker.
I have always loved the reverse headstock, simply because nothing says 1987 (the best year in the history of the world) like a reverse headstock. The pickups are both Seymour Duncan—an SH-1N in the neck position and TB-4 in the bridge, both in a very cool lime green color. Right when these pickups got listed, the Buy It Now button once again lit up like the Fourth of July. I am a loyal disciple of Sperzel locking tuners and think Bob Sperzel was a pure genius, so I knew those were going on this project even before I started on it. I also knew that I wanted a Vega-Trem; those units are absolutely amazing.
When the body arrived, I thought it would be cool to do some kind of burst around the yellow so I went with a neon green. It turned out better than I imagined. Next up was the shaping and cutting of the pickguard. I had this crocodile-type, faux-leather material that I glued on the pickguard and then shaped to my liking. I wanted just a single volume control and no tone knob, because, like King Edward (Van Halen) once said, “Your volume is your tone.”
T. Moody
I then shaped and glued the faux-leather material in the cavity. The tuning knobs, volume knob, pickguard, screws, and selector switch were also painted in the lemon-lime paint scheme. I put everything together, installed the pickups, strung it up, set it up, plugged it in, and I was blown away. I think this is the best-playing and -sounding guitar I have ever tried.
The only thing missing was the center piece and strap. The latter was easy because DiMarzio makes their ClipLock in neon green. The center piece was more difficult because originally, I was thinking that some kind of gator-style decoration would be cool. In the end, I went with a green snake, because crocodiles ain’t too flexible—and they’re way too big to fit in a pickup cavity!
The Green Snake’s back is just as striking as the front.
