When it comes to producing some of the most awe-inspiring bass-fuzz tones known to man, it's hard to top those from a good instrument, a thundering amp with a lot of headroom, and a growling Electro-Harmonix Big Muff thrown in front of it. However awesome this recipe sounds, it’s often taboo in band settings. That’s because if you don’t do it right, it can completely cloud a lot of the frequencies essential for the bass to be heard properly in a mix.
Electro-Harmonix heeded the call for a solution when they released the original Bass Big Muff Pi. It addressed the issues associated with using a bass through a Big Muff, but many bassists found themselves wanting an even more feature-laden model. After paying close attention to concerns and requests—both those made directly to the company and in online forums—Electro-Harmonix recently introduced the Deluxe Bass Big Muff Pi. It brings an expanded set of tone-shaping controls and additional connections that provide a slew of new options for both studio and stage use.
Beyond the Bass-ics
The Deluxe Bass Big Muff Pi starts with the exact same analog circuit as
the Bass Big Muff Pi—that is, its voicing is inspired by the tank-green
Sovtek Big Muff Pi and USA Big Muff Pi pedals. Likewise, the Deluxe has
the classic Big Muff layout of volume, tone, and sustain controls,
along with true-bypass switching and the choice of battery or
power-adapter operation.
The blend control allows you to precisely set how much dry signal you want mixed in with the distorted tone. (In contrast, the original Bass Big Muff had a 3-way switch for normal Big Muff tones, a 50/50 wet-dry blend, or a Muff-with-bass-boost mode.) There’s also a noise gate for eliminating hum from higher fuzz settings, and a -10 dB pad switch to help the pedal play nicer with active pickups.
While all of these new features are welcome additions, the real treat is the footswitchable crossover, which employs variable high- and low-pass filters to really tighten up the feel and tone. The high-pass filter works only on the distortion circuit, while the low-pass filter works its magic on the dry signal. This makes the Deluxe Bass Big Muff Pi not only a very useful fuzz pedal, but also a highly functional tone-shaper for clean signals. And because the crossover circuit can have such an incredibly dramatic effect on the tone, the brilliant decision to make it footswitchable effectively makes the Deluxe a 2-channel pedal.
Considering how flexible these new features render the Muff formula, it makes perfect sense that EHX went to the next logical level and included an XLR direct out for sending a low-noise signal effected signal to a mixing console. In addition to the standard 1/4" output, there’s also a 1/4" buffered output for sending a dry, unaffected signal to a separate effects chain or amp.
A Future Classic is Born
After strapping on an American Fender Jazz bass, I set the blend and sustain controls to about halfway and played blues-rock-inspired lines through the Deluxe Bass Big Muff and into a Verellen Meat Smoke head driving an Ampeg Isovent cabinet. The pedal generated a nice, thick low end with a warm, snarling grind. The fuzz had more of an overdrive quality when I kept the sustain control below 1 o'clock, and it responded beautifully to harder picking.
Turning up the gain induced a hairier response without robbing the low end—even at its highest settings. Hard-rock bassists covet the green Sovtek Big Muff because its liquid fuzz still manages to hold extreme lows together. In contrast, the fuzz produced by the new Deluxe doesn't really have the same squishy feel and saturation—it's much more muscular and has a quicker attack, which makes it a better choice for keeping the bass audible in a band setting. That said, I wouldn’t go as far as saying the Deluxe Bass Big Muff Pi is necessarily better or worse—it's just a different animal with different characteristics. But it definitely has more than enough grit and attitude for the heaviest of heavy music.
Ratings
Pros:
Convenient output options for flexible routing and fidelity. Very useful variable-blend control and gating. Footswitchable crossover circuit takes the Bass Big Muff to places it’s never been. Very affordable.
Cons:
Not as much gain as Sovtek Big Muff Pi. Low-pass filter affects the dry signal only.
Tones:
Playability/Ease of Use:
Build/Design:
Value:
Street:
$118
Electro-Harmonix
ehx.com
The gate control is exceptionally good at keeping background noise at bay. Most pedals in this price range that have built-in gates have a tendency to squelch the gain, as well as shave the low end and cause sustained notes to sputter and die out. But after maxing the sustain and blend knobs for a 100-percent wet signal, I only had to dial the gate knob to about 11 o'clock before the hiss completely disappeared. The fuzz sustained beautifully, too, yielding stoner-rock and raucous-metal riffs that kept their super-thick tone without losing the earth-shaking lows. The gate also cut out the extreme feedback and white noise generated when I pushed the pedal to its limits by throwing a maxed-out Boss DS-1 in front of it. Working the Deluxe’s wide-ranging tone control in this scenario gave me a very cool, synth-like gated fuzz that was incredibly easy to manage.
But the pedal’s real potential was unlocked when I switched on the crossover circuit, which let me shape the fuzz's highs in a much more dramatic fashion than the tone control could. The high-pass filter had a fairly subtle—though still noticeable—effect between 7 o'clock and 1 o'clock, bringing more presence to the high end and focus on the upper mids for funk-oriented playing. Beyond 2 o'clock, it sounded like I had a notched bass wah in line with the pedal—though it also started to overpower the lows somewhat. Reducing the low-pass knob to allow more subs to pass through, while also reducing the blend control for more dry signal, helped out a lot. But since the low-pass filter only affects the dry signal, much of the pedal's roaring fuzz was lost. It took some time to find the sweet spot for my rig, but once I did, the crossover was amazingly effective at calling up a variety of tones—from slightly driven bluesy grind to warm and scrappy punk bite or ridiculously in-your-face fuzz that pushed my speaker cab to its limits.
The Verdict
Electro-Harmonix performed a welcome and long-overdue service when they brought the Big Muff's cherished fuzz to bassists. And now the Deluxe Bass Big Muff Pi—though it’s a bit more expensive—builds on the winning formula with versatility and features that make it a better value than its smaller brother. One could even argue that the crossover circuit alone is worth the additional cash. Factor in the DI output, variable-blend control, and the crossover's brilliantly employed footswitching, and it really feels like a no-brainer. The amount of gain on tap is noticeably less than the classic Russian Big Muff that ruled the ’80s and ’90s, but when you consider its great tone, endless tweakability, and stage-ready connection options, this pedal is the Big Muff many bassists have been waiting for.
Lehle P-Split Iii Signal Splitter
- Stereo split, summing, double DI box and problem solver
- Hum-free and lossless splitting and isolating
- Two high-impedance LEHLE TRANSFORMER HZ
- Phase and ground switch per channel
- Suitable for unbalanced or balanced signals
- Passive – doesn’t need power
The LEHLE P-SPLIT STEREO combines passive intelligent splitting with the highest possible signal fidelity in a double pack.
The classic solution for splitting, eliminating hum, balancing and reamplification in recording applications, now appears in a doubled version and this time adds the passive summing of signals.
Two LEHLE TRANSFORMER HZ are working at the heart of the LEHLE P-SPLIT STEREO, galvanically isolating the particular ISO outputs from each other, eliminating any possibility of ground loops and hum.
For the first time in the band’s history, the Dawes lineup for Oh Brother consisted of just Griffin and Taylor Goldsmith (left and right).
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.