The combo features ''59 AC and ''68 Plexi channels.
Listen:
Clips recorded into Pro Tools HD9 through Apogee Symphony I/O. Mic Pre is Chandler LTD-1, no EQ, no FX.
If your dreams revolve around British
amps, the two kings of color are Vox
and Marshall. There isn’t much you can’t
squeeze out of a vintage AC30 and a plexi
Marshall—from Beatles and Hendrix tones
to Petty and Page sounds.
So when Jamie Scott of 3rd Power
Amplification decided to design the ultimate
Brit-flavored amp, he knew he wanted
to merge those two legends into a single
amplifier. The result of his efforts—the
British Dream—boldly combines great-sounding
interpretations of those two voices
with an effects loop and a power section
that's switchable between 15 and 30 watts.
Union Jacked
Scott has been down this road before. His
very successful 6L6-powered American
Dream [reviewed November 2010], combined
brownface and blackface Fender
flavors to excellent effect. The completely
handwired British Dream uses a pair of
EL34s, an EF86, and three 12AX7s in as a
jumping off point for its Anglo signature.
While this 56-pound combo isn’t exactly
compact (it’s also available as a head),
it's both lighter than a vintage AC30 and
significantly less hefty than a ’68 Marshall
half stack. Dressed up in black vinyl with
white lettering, piping, and chicken head
knobs, the British Dream looks original,
stately, a bit mean, and very rock ’n’ roll.
Construction is top-notch and incorporates
3rd Power’s proprietary Switchback
triangular speaker enclosure and tuned
triangle port for getting more of an open-back
tone, if desired. The latter is especially
thoughtful given that AC30s have an
open back and Marshalls cabs are closed-back.
The cab’s side ports enable venting
of the preamp and power-amp tubes,
which are isolated in a separate compartment
to reduce vibration. The vents are
removable to facilitate easy tube changes.
The British Dream’s front panel is divided
into three sections: ’59 AC, ’68 Plexi,
and a Presence/Power/Standby section. In
the ’59 AC section, you’ll find a single 1/4"
input and Volume, Brilliance, and Top Cut
controls. The Brilliance knob is a 3-way
Off/1/2 switch. The ’68 Plexi section has
a 1/4" input and traditional Marshall-style
controls—Volume, Treble, Middle, and
Bass. The third section has a Presence control
for both channels, as well as a standby
toggle for switching between 15 and 30
watts. The back panel has an IEC power
cable input, mains, and fuses, a 16 Ω speaker
output followed by dual 8 Ω and 4 Ω
outs, and the effects loop jacks. The removable
triangular port is held in place by three
screws and has a convenient leather loop for
pulling it away from the cab.
Split Personalities
As the owner of a ’64 Top Boost AC30
and ’68 Plexi, the sounds of these amps are
forever burned into my memory. And it was
startling to discover just how well the 3rd
Power captured so many of the sonic and
performance characteristics of both classics.
A Brian May Red Special guitar with
Burns Trisonic pickups and phase switches
seemed like a logical enough choice for testing
the Vox-inspired ’59 AC channel. And
with the volume at 2 o’clock, the Brilliance
switch off, and the Top Cut on zero, the
sound was pure Queen. Manipulating the
various phase switch and pickup combinations
on the Red Special gave me easy access
to “Brighton Rock,” “Bohemian Rhapsody,”
and “Killer Queen” tones. Without the benefit
of May’s Rangemaster driving the front
end, the British Dream didn’t deliver quite
as much gain as Brian’s tone, yet the amp
could still be aggressively bright. Adjusting
the Top Cut moved me to a more tame and
contoured treble edge.
With an Epiphone Sheraton in hand—a
recipe for Brit Pop nirvana if there ever was
one—the ’59 AC channel took on a very
different character. Even with the volume
set around 2 o’clock, the guitar and amp
seemed linked via a tube-driven central nervous
system. Single notes seemed to leap off
the speaker and chords were rich with harmonics
and sustain, and at times it seemed
you could feel the Sheraton vibrating in
harmony with the sounds leaping from the
British Power. Because the Sheraton created
a thicker sound than the Red Special,
I opened the volume up all the way, giving
the British Dream a jangling and raw character
that suggested the EF86 was working
overtime. But no matter how hard I pushed
the amp, it never collapsed and the break
up always tended toward sweet saturation.
Without a master volume, 30 watts can
become very loud, so I switched over to
the 15-watt mode. There was a noticeable
volume drop, but not at the expense of
richness or character. In general, pushing
15 watts, the tone was more compressed
and a little smaller sounding at higher settings.
The more obvious difference was
how the power drop affected the feel. From
that perspective, it took a bit more work
to get notes to jump and explode than in
the 30-watt mode. But the convenience of
a lower-power setting is huge. Because 3rd
Power uses a non-master volume design,
this power option really expands the amp’s
potential. [Scott responds: “I agree with this
observation, but I’d like to add that I voiced
the Presence circuit to really have an impact
on half-power mode. If you dial Presence up
to 3 or 4 o’clock, it really makes half-power
mode rock.”]
Removing the back port to better
approximate the open-back feel of an
AC30 opened up the sound significantly,
filling the room with a big, but less directional
sound. It would be nice to make
this change without removing screws, but I
suspect the design keeps the British Dream
from rattling with unwanted vibrations.
There’s nothing in the world quite like the
smack-in-the-face raw power of a great Plexi.
And though the British Dream doesn’t have
the horsepower of your typical Marshall, it
does a fantastic job of capturing that spirit.
With a Gibson Custom 1958 Les Paul Plain
Top VOS, a bump in the mids, and the volume
cranked up to 4 o’clock, the 3rd Power
gave me the familiar power-chord wallop and
sustain I know from my Marshall.
The 3rd Power’s tone controls will be
familiar to any Plexi owner too. The mid
control affects both volume and gain dramatically,
and the midrange cuts in that
special way that screams Marshall. Backing
the volume down to 1 o’clock steered the
Les Paul into AC/DC rhythm territory.
Most interesting was how close the single
12" Celestion came to a 4x12 in terms of
response. Perhaps it didn’t blow my pant legs
like a leaf blower, the way some Marshalls
will. But the dynamics of guitar and speaker
interaction were startlingly similar.
Though the British Dream’s ’68 Plexi
channel has a very distinct, Marshall-like
voice, it still enables the character of individual
guitars to come through loud and
clear. Strats exhibited their signature spank,
and P-90s barked mean and raw. It’s a testament
to good amp design when guitars
retain their personality and character, and
the British Dream walks the line between
transparency and authority with aplomb.
The Verdict
With the British Dream, 3rd Power gives Vox
and Marshall lovers a killer one-two punch
in an amp that’s considerably more compact
and manageable than either of those legends.
The tones are amazingly authentic, if slightly
more modern at times, and the response is
startlingly spot on for a 1x12 combo attempting
to approximate the sound of much more
monstrous cabinets. The addition of the proprietary
cabinet design and removable back
panel gives you both open- and closed-back
sounds in one package.
Personally, I would prefer a single input
and channel switching over dual inputs,
as that design necessitates an A/B box. At
times, I found myself wanting a master
volume or power scaling to bring the levels
down for recording, but the ability to
switch from 30 to 15 watts gets you most
of the way there and is invaluable for a
gigging musician. In the end, 3rd Power
has once again come up with yet another
winning and imaginative design—one your
aching back and bandmates will thank you
for, if you’ve been hauling around an AC30
or plexi to gigs.
Buy if...
you want AC30 and Plexi tones in a single, relatively small package.
Skip if...
you prefer channel switching and a master-volume control.
Rating...
Street $2699 - 3rd Power - 3rdpower.com |
“Practice Loud”! How Duane Denison Preps for a New Jesus Lizard Record
After 26 years, the seminal noisy rockers return to the studio to create Rack, a master class of pummeling, machine-like grooves, raving vocals, and knotty, dissonant, and incisive guitar mayhem.
The last time the Jesus Lizard released an album, the world was different. The year was 1998: Most people counted themselves lucky to have a cell phone, Seinfeld finished its final season, Total Request Live was just hitting MTV, and among the year’s No. 1 albums were Dave Matthews Band’s Before These Crowded Streets, Beastie Boys’ Hello Nasty, The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Korn’s Follow the Leader, and the Armageddonsoundtrack. These were the early days of mp3 culture—Napster didn’t come along until 1999—so if you wanted to hear those albums, you’d have to go to the store and buy a copy.
The Jesus Lizard’s sixth album, Blue, served as the band’s final statement from the frontlines of noisy rock for the next 26 years. By the time of their dissolution in 1999, they’d earned a reputation for extreme performances chock full of hard-hitting, machine-like grooves delivered by bassist David Wm. Sims and, at their conclusion, drummer Mac McNeilly, at times aided and at other times punctured by the frontline of guitarist Duane Denison’s incisive, dissonant riffing, and presided over by the cantankerous howl of vocalist David Yow. In the years since, performative, thrilling bands such as Pissed Jeans, METZ, and Idles have built upon the Lizard’s musical foundation.
Denison has kept himself plenty busy over the last couple decades, forming the avant-rock supergroup Tomahawk—with vocalist Mike Patton, bassist Trevor Dunn (both from Mr. Bungle), and drummer John Stanier of Helmet—and alongside various other projects including Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers and Hank Williams III. The Jesus Lizard eventually reunited, but until now have only celebrated their catalog, never releasing new jams.
The Jesus Lizard, from left: bassist David Wm. Sims, singer David Yow, drummer Mac McNeilly, and guitarist Duane Denison.
Photo by Joshua Black Wilkins
Back in 2018, Denison, hanging in a hotel room with Yow, played a riff on his unplugged electric guitar that caught the singer’s ear. That song, called “West Side,” will remain unreleased for now, but Denison explains: “He said, ‘Wow, that’s really good. What is that?’ And I said, ‘It’s just some new thing. Why don’t we do an album?’” From those unassuming beginnings, the Jesus Lizard’s creative juices started flowing.
So, how does a band—especially one who so indelibly captured the ineffable energy of live rock performance—prepare to get a new record together 26 years after their last? Back in their earlier days, the members all lived together in a band house, collectively tending to the creative fire when inspiration struck. All these years later, they reside in different cities, so their process requires sending files back and forth and only meeting up for occasional demo sessions over the course of “three or four years.”
“When the time comes to get more in performance mode, I have a practice space. I go there by myself and crank it up. I turn that amp up and turn the metronome up and play loud.” —Duane Denison
the Jesus Lizard "Alexis Feels Sick"
Distance creates an obstacle to striking while the proverbial iron is hot, but Denison has a method to keep things energized: “Practice loud.” The guitarist professes the importance of practice, in general, and especially with a metronome. “We keep very detailed records of what the beats per minute of these songs are,” he explains. “To me, the way to do it is to run it to a Bluetooth speaker and crank it, and then crank your amp. I play a little at home, but when the time comes to get more in performance mode, I have a practice space. I go there by myself and crank it up. I turn that amp up and turn the metronome up and play loud.”
It’s a proven solution. On Rack—recorded at Patrick Carney’s Audio Eagle studio with producer Paul Allen—the band sound as vigorous as ever, proving they’ve not only remained in step with their younger selves, but they may have surpassed it with faders cranked. “Duane’s approach, both as a guitarist and writer, has an angular and menacing fingerprint that is his own unique style,” explains Allen. “The conviction in his playing that he is known for from his recordings in the ’80s and ’90s is still 100-percent intact and still driving full throttle today.”
“I try to be really, really precise,” he says. “I think we all do when it comes to the basic tracks, especially the rhythm parts. The band has always been this machine-like thing.” Together, they build a tension with Yow’s careening voice. “The vocals tend to be all over the place—in and out of tune, in and out of time,” he points out. “You’ve got this very free thing moving around in the foreground, and then you’ve got this very precise, detailed band playing behind it. That’s why it works.”
Before Rack, the Jesus Lizard hadn’t released a new record since 1998’s Blue.
Denison’s guitar also serves as the foreground foil to Yow’s unhinged raving, as on “Alexis Feels Sick,” where they form a demented harmony, or on the midnight creep of “What If,” where his vibrato-laden melodies bolster the singer’s unsettled, maniacal display. As precise as his riffs might be, his playing doesn’t stay strictly on the grid. On the slow, skulking “Armistice Day,” his percussive chording goes off the rails, giving way to a solo that slices that groove like a chef’s knife through warm butter as he reorganizes rock ’n’ roll histrionics into his own cut-up vocabulary.
“During recording sessions, his first solo takes are usually what we decide to keep,” explains Allen. “Listen to Duane’s guitar solos on Jack White’s ‘Morning, Noon, and Night,’ Tomahawk’s ‘Fatback,’ and ‘Grind’ off Rack. There’s a common ‘contained chaos’ thread among them that sounds like a harmonic Rubik’s cube that could only be solved by Duane.”
“Duane’s approach, both as a guitarist and writer, has an angular and menacing fingerprint that is his own unique style.” —Rack producer Paul Allen
To encapsulate just the right amount of intensity, “I don’t over practice everything,” the guitarist says. Instead, once he’s created a part, “I set it aside and don’t wear it out.” On Rack, it’s obvious not a single kilowatt of musical energy was lost in the rehearsal process.
Denison issues his noisy masterclass with assertive, overdriven tones supporting his dissonant voicings like barbed wire on top of an electric fence. The occasional application of slapback delay adds a threatening aura to his exacting riffage. His tones were just as carefully crafted as the parts he plays, and he relied mostly on his signature Electrical Guitar Company Chessie for the sessions, though a Fender Uptown Strat also appears, as well as a Taylor T5Z, which he chose for its “cleaner, hyper-articulated sound” on “Swan the Dog.” Though he’s been spotted at recent Jesus Lizard shows with a brand-new Powers Electric—he points out he played a demo model and says, “I just couldn’t let go of it,” so he ordered his own—that wasn’t until tracking was complete.
Duane Denison's Gear
Denison wields his Powers Electric at the Blue Room in Nashville last June.
Photo by Doug Coombe
Guitars
- Electrical Guitar Company Chessie
- Fender Uptown Strat
- Taylor T5Z
- Gibson ES-135
- Powers Electric
Amps
- Hiwatt Little J
- Hiwatt 2x12 cab with Fane F75 speakers
- Fender Super-Sonic combo
- Early ’60s Fender Bassman
- Marshall 1987X Plexi Reissue
- Victory Super Sheriff head
- Blackstar HT Stage 60—2 combos in stereo with Celestion Neo Creamback speakers and Mullard tubes
Effects
- Line 6 Helix
- Mantic Flex Pro
- TC Electronic G-Force
- Menatone Red Snapper
Strings and Picks
- Stringjoy Orbiters .0105 and .011 sets
- Dunlop celluloid white medium
- Sun Studios yellow picks
He ran through various amps—Marshalls, a Fender Bassman, two Fender Super-Sonic combos, and a Hiwatt Little J—at Audio Eagle. Live, if he’s not on backline gear, you’ll catch him mostly using 60-watt Blackstar HT Stage 60s loaded with Celestion Neo Creambacks. And while some boxes were stomped, he got most of his effects from a Line 6 Helix. “All of those sounds [in the Helix] are modeled on analog sounds, and you can tweak them endlessly,” he explains. “It’s just so practical and easy.”
The tools have only changed slightly since the band’s earlier days, when he favored Travis Beans and Hiwatts. Though he’s started to prefer higher gain sounds, Allen points out that “his guitar sound has always had teeth with a slightly bright sheen, and still does.”
“Honestly, I don’t think my tone has changed much over the past 30-something years,” Denison says. “I tend to favor a brighter, sharper sound with articulation. Someone sent me a video I had never seen of myself playing in the ’80s. I had a band called Cargo Cult in Austin, Texas. What struck me about it is it didn’t sound terribly different than what I sound like right now as far as the guitar sound and the approach. I don’t know what that tells you—I’m consistent?”
YouTube It
The Jesus Lizard take off at Nashville’s Blue Room this past June with “Hide & Seek” from Rack.
The two pedals mark the debut of the company’s new Street Series, aimed at bringing boutique tone to the gigging musician at affordable prices.
The Phat Machine
The Phat Machine is designed to deliver the tone and responsiveness of a vintage germanium fuzz with improved temperature stability with no weird powering issues. Loaded with both a germanium and a silicon transistor, the Phat Machine offers the warmth and cleanup of a germanium fuzz but with the bite of a silicon pedal. It utilizes classic Volume and Fuzz control knobs, as well as a four-position Thickness control to dial-in any guitar and amp combo. Also included is a Bias trim pot and a Kill switch that allows battery lovers to shut off the battery without pulling the input cord.
Silk Worm Deluxe Overdrive
The Silk Worm Deluxe -- along with its standard Volume/Gain/Tone controls -- has a Bottom trim pot to dial in "just the right amount of thud with no mud at all: it’s felt more than heard." It also offers a Studio/Stage diode switch that allows you to select three levels of compression.
Both pedals offer the following features:
- 9-volt operation via standard DC external supply or internal battery compartment
- True bypass switching with LED indicator
- Pedalboard-friendly top mount jacks
- Rugged, tour-ready construction and super durable powder coated finish
- Made in the USA
Static Effectors’ Street Series pedals carry a street price of $149 each. They are available at select retailers and can also be purchased directly from the Static Effectors online store at www.staticeffectors.com.
Computerized processes have given repair techs the power to deliver you a better-playing guitar. But how do they work?
When we need to get our guitars fixed by a professional, a few nagging questions run through our heads: Will the repair specialist be thorough? Will their procedures ensure an optimal sounding and easy-to-play instrument, or will they merely perform cursory work to make the guitar somewhat playable without resolving underlying issues? Have they followed the tested advancements in understanding, tools, and techniques, or are they stuck in the ideas of the ’70s?
Presently, many certified guitar-repair specialists possess the expertise required to deliver an instrument that both sounds and plays wonderfully. The standards set by manufacturers and distributors have significantly risen, safeguarded by rigorous quality protocols to guarantee the best possible acoustic experience for customers. Additionally, lutherie training has raised the bar for critical processes, and one of the most tricky is fretwork.
Traditional fretwork once involved manual labor, with technicians utilizing sandbags or similar supports to steady the neck as they straightened it with a truss rod during the filing process. A notable advancement in this field came in the mid 1970s when Don Teeter, an author and repair expert, imposed a new method: fixing the guitar body to the bench and using blocks to maintain the neck in a playing position. This refinement was one of many in the continued quest to produce superior instruments by standardized methods.
An example of the Plek’s readings from an acoustic guitar.
Photo courtesy of Galloup Guitars
In the late 1970s, another pivotal innovation was introduced by Dan Erlewine. He created an advanced fret jig with a specialized body-holding system and neck supports, adding another layer of precision to the repair process. During my collaboration with Dan in 1985, we developed a rotating neck jig that counterbalanced the forces of gravity, keeping the instrument in its playing orientation while adjusting the neck supports. This step represented a significant leap in establishing control and standardization of fretwork procedures in our industry. By 1986, our approach had evolved into a freestanding workstation coupled with a sophisticated hold-down mechanism and enhanced neck supports, culminating in increased accuracy, efficiency, and consistency. Over the decades, the Erlewine/Galloup rotating neck jig has become a benchmark in numerous shops, enhancing fretwork performance.
"This step represented a significant leap in establishing control and standardization of fretwork procedures in our industry."
By the 1990s, automated and computerized technologies permeated the guitar manufacturing and repair sectors. Initially applied by import companies in the mass production of guitars, the technology, although expediting processes, did not immediately achieve high execution standards. However, the tech dramatically improved over time, with computer-driven systems eventually transforming the industry. Contemporary automated production utilizing such advancements meets exceedingly high standards of precision. Some bespoke guitar manufacturers, such as Steve Andersen, were pioneers in adopting these methods, but it was companies like Taylor that established them in the modern era.
Inevitably, the progression of technology extended beyond the mere production of parts. Around 1995, German engineer Gerd Anke envisioned the integration of computer-assisted technology into enhancing instrument playability, giving rise to Plek technology, which uses computers to precisely measure and analyze the various components of a guitar, like neck relief, fret height, nut and bridge specs, and more. Nashville guitar-repair tech Joe Glaser was among the first to recognize the machine’s value, followed by San Francisco luthier Gary Brawer. When Heritage Guitar Inc. invested in a Plek machine, the guitar industry could no longer disregard the significance of this innovation.
“The machine’s scanning data confirmed that there was one nature of an ideal fret plane, done by hand or machine, and unsurprisingly, it conformed exactly to what physics predicts, not personal mojo.”
In the spring of 2022, Galloup Guitars obtained its first Plek machine. Promptly, our technician Adam Winarski paved the way for the Plek’s integration in our shop. Now, it’s a rarity for an instrument to leave our shop without having undergone Plek analysis and machining. Impressed by the results of our integration, we created “Intro to Plek” as a course for all students enrolled at the Galloup School of Lutherie, offering our students a practical introduction to this technology. We furthered this educational initiative with a comprehensive one-week intensive “Plek Certification Training Course” for both students and the public. This advanced Plek course serves those seeking to boost their knowledge base and employability in this high-precision field.
Plek is rapidly becoming an industry standard for major manufacturers and smaller shops alike. However, this does not mean that those without access to this technology cannot execute proficient fretwork. Personally, I continue to use my Erlewine/Galloup neck jig—not only out of nostalgia, but also because it remains an excellent method for delivering accurate and reliable guitars. Still, it’s undeniable that the process of fretting, fret dressing, and analytics of fretted instruments has undergone significant transformation, resulting in better sounding—and playing—guitars. And ultimately, that’s what it’s all about.
Plenty of excellent musicians work day jobs to put food on the family table. So where do they go to meet their music community?
Being a full-time musician is a dream that rarely comes to pass. I’ve written about music-related jobs that keep you close to the action, and how more and more musicians are working in the music-gear industry, but that’s not for everyone. Casual players and weekend warriors love music as much as the hardcore guitarists who are bent on playing full time, but they may have obligations that require more consistent employment.
I know plenty of excellent musicians who work day jobs not to support their musical dreams, but to put food on the family table. They pay mortgages, put children through school, provide services, and contribute to their community. Music may not be their vocation, but it’s never far from their minds. So where do they go to meet their music community?
A good friend of mine has studied music extensively in L.A. and New York. He’s been mentored by the pros, and he takes his playing very seriously. Like many, he always had day jobs, often in educational situations. While pro gigs were sometimes disappointing, he found that he really enjoyed working with kids and eventually studied and achieved certification as an educator. To remain in touch with his love of music, he plays evenings and weekends with as many as three groups, including a jazz trio and a country band. Not actually worrying about having a music gig that could support him in totality has changed the way he views playing out and recording. He doesn’t have to take gigs that put him in stressful situations; he can pick and choose. He’s not fretting over “making it.” In some way, he’s actually doing what we all want, to play for the music plain and simple.
Another guy I know has played in bands since his teens. He’s toured regionally and made a few records. When the time came to raise a family, he took a corporate job that is as about as far away from the music business as you can get. But it has allowed him to remain active as a player, and he regularly releases albums he records in his home studio. His longstanding presence in the music scene keeps him in touch with some famous musicians who guest on his recordings. He’s all about music head to toe, and when he retires, I’m certain he’ll keep on playing.
“Seek out music people regularly. They’re hiding in plain sight: at work, at the park, in the grocery store. They sell you insurance, they clean your teeth.”
I could go on, and I’m sure you know people in similar situations. Maybe this even describes you. So where do we all find our musical compadres? For me, and the people I’ve mentioned, our history playing in bands and gigging while young has kept us in touch with others of the same ilk, or with those who are full-time musicians. But many come to music later in life as well. How do they find community?
Somehow, we manage to find our tribe. It could be at work or a coffee shop. Some clubs still have an open mic night that isn’t trying to be a conveyor belt to commercial success. Guitarists always go up to the stage between changes to talk shop, which can lead to more connections. I like the idea of the old-school music store. Local guitar shops and music stores are great places to meet other musicians. Many have bulletin boards where you can post or find ads looking for bandmates. When I see someone wearing a band T-shirt, I usually ask if they’re a musician. Those conversations often lead to more connections down the line. Remember, building a network of musicians often requires persistence and putting yourself out there. Don’t be afraid to initiate conversations and express your interest in collaborating with others.
Of course, I’m lucky to have worked in the music sphere since I was a teen. My path led to using my knowledge of music and guitars to involve myself in so many adventures that I can hardly count them. Still, it’s the love of music at the root of everything I do, and it’s the people that make that possible. So whether you’re a pro or a beginner, seek out music people regularly. They’re hiding in plain sight: at work, at the park, in the grocery store. They sell you insurance, they clean your teeth. Maybe they’re your kid’s teacher. Musicians are everywhere, and that’s a good thing for all of us.