
Relief for the tube shortage is ahead, but it’s happened before and could happen again. Here’s the practical—and geopolitical—long view.
“Think about the American and British rock bands trying to get into the Cold War Soviet Union to play rock music that Soviets had never heard—through their British tube amps, with tubes manufactured in Russia.”
That quote, from Sweetwater Senior Category Manager for Amps and Effects Darren Monroe, sums up how much culture and politics can impact every note you play. And that’s especially true regarding tubes. Let’s start with some deep background.
A Brief Post-War History of Tubes
Until the mid-1950s, the vacuum tube ruled the world of electronics. If something needed amplifying, there were countless high-quality variations to choose from. They were in TVs, radios, record players, etc. The world’s armies even got into the game, demanding military-spec options that continue to be among the most sought-after tubes today. So, the little glowing bottles were in high demand, and the industry thrived. But things were about to change.
Seemingly overnight, the solid-state transistor became the go-to platform for countless electronic products we still use today, literally changing the world. They were cheaper to make, smaller, more efficient, and more reliable. They also offered pure, uncolored sound—precisely what you want in a great stereo system.Mike Matthews, the founder of Electro-Harmonix, had the foresight to acquire tube manufacturers, starting in the early 1990s, and today the brand names Tung-Sol, Electro-Harmonix, EH Gold, Genalex Gold Lion, Mullard, Svetlana, and Sovtek are all under the company’s umbrella.
Photo by Mike Chiodo
The First Tube Shortage
The demand for vacuum tubes dried up quickly. Factories that used to produce thousands of tubes daily had to close their doors as they watched orders disappear. Tube manufacturers all but vanished entirely from the U.S. Of course, guitarists still wanted their tubes, but, as Dave Friedman, owner/designer of Friedman Amplification, explains, there weren’t nearly enough 6-stringers to keep the giant industry afloat.
“The guitar tube market is really small in the scope of the tube industry,” he says. “Tubes used to be used in a variety of things, so these huge factories [suddenly] had no demand. They basically became obsolete. That’s when Mike stepped in.”
Friedman is referring to Electro-Harmonix Founder and President Mike Matthews. A legend in the musical instrument industry, Matthews helped write the template for many electric guitar effects pedals. His iconic designs—including the Big Muff, the Memory Man, the Electric Mistress, and the POG—are still going strong today. But many guitarists don’t know that Matthews is a massive presence in the world of vacuum tubes for guitar amplification, and helped save the industry.
It all started with the crumbling Soviet Union. “I took a rock ’n’ roll band to Russia in ’79 for the first exhibit they opened to companies around the world for consumer products,” Matthews recalls. “Only two companies from the U.S.A. went: us and Levi’s. And when I was there, I started thinking about how I could buy products from Russia [to import in the U.S.].”
“The EL34 everyone was using was the German Siemens tube. And in ’90 or ’91, those tubes went away. There were no other EL34s being made.” —Dave Friedman, Friedman Amplification
With his background in effects pedals, Matthews was familiar with integrated circuits (ICs), and dove head-first into importing Russian versions at 15 cents each. He says he made “a killing on them!” But it was only a short time before another trip east, and a respected friend’s approval, inspired the switch to importing tubes.
“In ’88, I saw vacuum tubes on the wall at the Ministry of Electronics [the Soviet Union’s state-run organization responsible for research, development, and production of electronic and electrical devices, from 1965 to 1985]. I took samples to Jess Oliver [famed amplifier designer and former vice president of Ampeg], and he said, ‘They’re good!’ So, I got early customers like Peavey, and the tubes took off!”
But the U.S.S.R. was failing, and panicked Soviet authorities demanded he commit big or leave it all behind. “Because the Soviet Union was starting to fall apart, the companies that made the tubes defaulted on their loans,” he explains. “So, the Russians told me that either I had to buy the factory for $500K or they’d sell to Groove Tubes. So, I sorta had to buy it.” And then he was in the vacuum tube manufacturing business for good.
“It has been a big deal,” says Sweetwater’s Darren Monroe. “In some cases, we even had to take products off the web.”
Building Back the Biz
The early ’90s were another dark time for the vacuum tube industry. Though Matthews was hard at work building his tube operation, he was far from full-strength, and other tube manufacturers continued to disappear. It got so bad that many of the day’s most famous amplifier designers adapted their amps for whatever tubes were available.
Friedman remembers, “When I started in the industry in ’88, Sylvania tubes were around but coming to an end. The EL34 everyone was using was the German Siemens tube. And in ’90 or ’91, those tubes went away. There were no other EL34s being made. Mike Matthews was just starting, so for a short time, everyone switched to the Sovtek 5881, which was a Russian military tube. Even Marshall had 5881s in their amps. EL34s didn’t exist!”
Thankfully, there was hope. As Matthews’ tubes were coming online, Svetlana (who would later be purchased in 2001 by Matthews under the name New Sensor Corporation) emerged as a player in the tube game.
Then came tubes from China. “Slowly, Svetlana came out, Mike came up, and then some Chinese EL34s showed up,” recalls Friedman. Availability stabilized with the entry of Chinese mega-manufacturers Shuguang and Psvane in the international marketplace. In Russia, Matthews grew to absorb the brands Tung-Sol, Mullard, and Sovtek, too. Also, newcomer JJ Electronic showed up in the early ’90s. They earned a name for quality and reliable tubes made in Czechoslovakia, and, after the division of that country, Slovakia.The world now had sufficient vacuum tube manufacturers to furnish guitarists, amp builders, and retailers everywhere. For nearly 30 years, you could get almost any tube from countless retailers and distributors. That changed in 2020.
“At the end of 2019, the Chinese government told Shuguang, ‘we’re closing you down.’ To make things worse, I don’t know if they will be able to open again. They lost all of their skilled workers.”—Mike Matthews, Electro-Harmonix
The Current Shortfall
If you’ve shopped for new tubes in the last couple of years, you might have noticed strikingly few options available, and even more striking price tags on some of the ones that were. Yes, the current tube shortage is real. Guitar amp builders and retailers haven’t been able to rebuild their stock of tubes.
Why? The current shortage began in late 2019/early 2020, when China’s Shuguang factory—then the world’s largest tube manufacturer—shut its doors seemingly overnight. The loss of Shuguang put the tube industry on its heels in a big way, plus the pandemic was looming right around the corner.
“That was big,” acknowledges Matthews. “At the end of 2019, the Chinese government told Shuguang, ‘We’re closing you down.’ To make things worse, I don’t know if they will be able to open again. They lost all of their skilled workers.”
Very few in the industry know the real reason Shuguang was shuttered. Still, with the Chinese government’s penchant for secrecy, theories abound. According to Matthews, the Peking government wanted the factory’s land. Friedman, though skeptical, heard a different story. “They had a fire a while back, but who knows if they were lying,” he says. “Anyway, their whole process still isn’t back. Right now, there is only New Sensor Corporation, JJ, and Psvane. Those are the only manufacturers [although their tubes are sold under many brand names]. So, all your tubes are only coming from three sources."
“The guitar tube market is really small in the scope of the tube industry,” says Dave Friedman. “Tubes used to be used in a variety of things, so these huge factories [suddenly] had no demand. They basically became obsolete. That’s when Mike stepped in.”
Fast forward to today, and the world continues to deal with Covid, labor shortages, international tensions, and all-out war. Varying government ideologies snarl and confuse the production of countless products, and importing and exporting of many products has ground to a halt.
While the Russia/Ukraine war and its political ramifications haven’t officially stopped Matthews and Russian tube production, they have introduced nearly insurmountable challenges to his ability to export goods. Matthews believes this explains the massive price increases, noting, “Western countries have high tariffs on things from Russia, so the costs are up.”
“A tube that used to wholesale for $9 now wholesales for $18,” adds Friedman. “Some 12AX7s are selling at retail for $30 or something! The wholesale side is not much less than that. Russian tubes are kinda off the table at this point.”
The two vacuum tube manufacturers that remained open for business with no limitations were JJ Electronic and Psvane. But both have struggled to keep up with demand. It got so bad that, according to Friedman, “JJ were so back ordered that they hadn’t taken any new orders for a couple of years.”
“A tube that used to wholesale for $9 now wholesales for $18. Some 12AX7s are selling at retail for $30 or something! The wholesale side is not much less than that.”—Dave Friedman, Friedman Amplification
Tube Supply Today
The tube shortage has weighed heavily on the entire guitar industry for a couple of years now. Labor shortages and trade tariffs are a major headache for tube manufacturers, amp builders can’t finish their products, and guitarists can’t keep their amps in working shape. Much of this comes to a head at music retail.
“It has been a big deal,” Sweetwater’s Monroe says, sighing. “In some cases, we even had to take products off the web. There was no way we could deliver. We even explored buying a container full of tubes and getting our own tube-matching equipment. But that was such a huge task that we decided not to do it.”
For large retailers, the problem is twofold. They must have after-market tubes for their customers. Plus, they understand the need to allocate tubes to amp manufacturers, ensuring the tube shortage doesn’t also become an amp shortage. If tube amp builders don’t have tubes, they’re out of business.
“It’s a difficult needle to thread,” Monroe says. “There are a lot of tube amp users out there that need to service their existing amp. We can’t provide that because all the tubes are going to new amps. Yeah, we want to sell more amps but, at the same time, we want to take care of those customers.”
According to Mike Matthews, making tubes in the U.S. "“would cost something like 500 to 600 percent more. The environmental and labor considerations…. It’s a handmade business, and the costs are just way too high.”
Photo by Mike Chiodo
The Cost Factor
Other than JJ Electronic, nearly every vacuum tube today originates from Russia or China. In the ’70s and ’80s, both were promising markets on the global stage. But today, both countries have volatile political climates and have economically distanced relationships with the U.S. that makes trade, including the tube trade, much more difficult and expensive. So, many guitarists in our hemisphere are asking, “Why not just make tubes here in North America?”
Matthews wades in: “You can’t make them in the U.S.A. It would cost something like 500 to 600 percent more. It’s just much too expensive. The environmental and labor considerations…. It’s a handmade business, and the costs are just way too high.”
With the U.S. being a no-go, what about other industrialized countries that manufacture high-quality products while still keeping costs down? Could we produce tubes in Mexico, Indonesia, or Taiwan?
Again, Matthews says no. It’s just too skilled-labor intensive. “It’s a handmade thing. A machine can’t just make the whole tube,” he explains. “There are a lot of different parts that go into one tube. Each of those parts is made separately; then, the whole tube is put together. Tubes require people who have those skills.”
“But it’s a lost art,” Friedman adds. “Almost no one knows anything about tubes anymore or how to build them. All the people that did are dead now. It’s like how houses used to be hand-troweled plaster. Try and find a plasterer today who can do that work. They almost don’t exist. Stuff gets lost over time.”
“I mean, there are still a lot of tube amps that are sold. If there’s a demand, they’ll fill the void.”—Dave Friedman, Friedman Amplification
Emerging Optimism
Just when things are looking very dark, there is a faint light at the end of the tunnel. JJ Electronic is still at it and should accept new tube orders soon. Matthews’ New Sensor Corporation fully expects to make it through Russia’s current political climate. There are even rumors of Chinese powerhouse Shuguang returning.
“I think things are improving,” Monroe says, optimistically. “We’re hearing, ‘We’re getting more tubes in,’ and, ‘We’re going to be able to supply you with tubes.’ So, hopefully, for anyone that couldn’t get tubes through us, we’ll have their tubes in stock soon.”
Also, tubes never entirely went away. Look at any large retailer and you’ll find a selection of EL34s, 6L6s, 12AX7s, and more. Your choices might be limited, and the prices higher, but they’re there. Why? Because the industry saw this coming, reached out to their suppliers, and prepared accordingly.
“We started talking to the Psvane company early,” says Friedman. “We were set up with them and in a good position when this all happened.”
“Guys like Mike Matthews did tell people early on, ‘I’m getting shut down. I’m not going to be able to deliver these,’” says Monroe. “That created a bit of a panic at the time. So, we were able to order ahead and keep sales going.”
Amp Makers Adapt to Survive
Amp builders have been able to adjust to availability the same way they always have—by embracing different tubes and brands. While the name on a tube might say Sovtek, Mullard, or Mesa/Boogie, there’s a good chance it was made in the same factory. And amp builders, unbeknownst to most guitarists, often jump from one brand to another to ensure their customers get the best-sounding and most reliable tubes currently produced.
Friedman explains: “Look, tubes have to sound great, but they also have to be reliable. That’s why I've changed tube makers several times over the years—because of reliability issues. So, whatever amp brand is on a tube [in our amps], it’s just whatever tube deemed the most reliable for right now. And that’s changed a million times over the years.”
While Friedman thinks each tube has its own magic, he also believes that right now there are better ways to spend your tone-chasing money. “There’s a big variety of tubes,” he says. “They have their own gain levels and tone. They all have a sonic signature, and you need to find out what you like. But I’m of the mind, ‘Don’t swap your tubes if they’re working.’ And, if you have an amp you like, figure out what’s in it and replace them with the same tube. Just look for a well-tested tube from a reputable source. There are a lot of great tube matching/screeners out there. So, know what you’re going for and get a screened tube that has a warranty.”
“I mean, there are still a lot of tube amps that are sold. If there’s a demand, they’ll fill the void.”—Dave Friedman, Friedman Amplification
The Future of Tube Amps
Although we seem to be emerging from the tube shortage, if history does repeat itself, this won’t be the last time it happens. Also, let’s not forget the rise of digital modeling and the new generation of solid-state amps that approximate tube tone that have entered the market in recent years.
This leads to the question, “Is this the end of the electric-guitar tube amplifier?” Not according to both Friedman and Monroe. “There is enough of a market that tubes will continue. There’s still money on the table,” Friedman says matter-of-factly. “I mean, there are still a lot of tube amps that are sold. If there’s a demand, they’ll fill the void. And remember, they asked the same thing in the early ’90s. It happens over and over again.”
“Tube amps are as hot as ever,” echoes Monroe. “I’ve been in purchasing for a long time at Sweetwater, and there are just too many amps out there. Someone is going to find a way to keep them going.”Billy Corgan shining with his Reverend Z One.
The Smashing Pumpkins frontman balances a busy creative life working as a wrestling producer, café/tea company owner, and a collaborator on his forward-thinking, far-reaching line of signature guitars. Decades into his career, Corgan continues to evolve his songcraft and guitar sound for the modern era on the band’s latest, Aghori Mhori Mei.
“Form follows function,” explains Billy Corgan when asked about the evolution of his songwriting. These three words seem to serve as his creative dictum. “Early Pumpkins was more about playing in clubs and effecting a response from the live audience, because that’s where we could get attention."
When the Smashing Pumpkins formed in 1988, they were ripping in rock clubs with psychedelic-inspired sets that drew on ’60s-rock influences like Blue Cheer, Jimi Hendrix, and Led Zeppelin. But by 1992, after the breakout success of the previous year’s swirling alt-rock masterpiece, Gish, “Suddenly, we’re on a major label,” recalls Corgan. “Pearl Jam sold a gazillion records. Nirvana sold a gazillion records. Alice in Chains is selling a gazillion records. And somebody puts a finger up to my temple and says, ‘You better figure out how to write pop songs or you’re going to go back to working at a record store.’
“So, how do I translate this kind of hazy psychedelic vision into something that sounds like pop-rock radio? I’d better figure this out, and fast.” On 1993’s Siamese Dream, Corgan had obviously gone far beyond simply figuring out how to fit his vision into a radio-ready format; he’d pushed alternative rock to new heights, masterfully crafting hooks fit for the band’s unique, massive guitar-driven sound.
More than three decades later, Corgan hasn’t stopped evolving his artistry to fit the times. On the firm foundation of his extremely well-developed, instantly recognizable musical voice, he’s made his career one of the most interesting in rock music, branching out into unpredictable trajectories. In 2017, he launched a new career as a professional wrestling producer when he purchased the National Wrestling Alliance, the source of the limited TV series Billy Corgan’s Adventures in Carnyland.The Smashing Pumpkins - "Edin"
And he’s applied that knack for spectacle—a de facto pre-req for anyone in the pro wrestling biz—to the band’s social media presence. In January 2024, when guitarist Jeff Schroeder split with the Smashing Pumpkins, they turned to the internet for an open call. Not only did the band eventually find new-hire Kiki Wong, but they effectively got every guitarist on the internet dreaming about joining the Pumpkins.
Corgan has also found a creative outlet as a guitar conceptualist. His four signature Reverends—the Billy Corgan Signature, Terz, Z-One, and Drop Z—were created in collaboration with Joe Naylor, the company’s visionary builder. Taken together, these models go well beyond standard signature artist instruments protocols. Not content to just design his own dream guitar, Corgan is equally concerned with contributing to the guitar community. The Billy Corgan Signature and Z-One models are forward-thinking electric guitars well-outfitted with hip, futuristic aesthetics and custom pickups; the Terz and Drop Z break new ground in guitar design. The Terz is a 21 1/2"-scale model meant to be tuned one and a half steps up—G to G—and the Drop Z model, at 26 1/2" scale, is intended for D standard or lower tunings. In the case of these alt-tuned guitars, the instruments are specifically voiced for their tunings, with custom pickups.
“In that quiet solitude of just you and the guitar, this communication can happen that sort of expresses something about yourself that is surprising.”
With all this action—plus signature Yamaha acoustics and his Highland Park, Illinois, café, Madame Zuzu’s, which he owns with his wife, Chloé Mendel—Corgan must be dialing into a deep, super-focused state when working on music, because he’s been prolific. In 2023, the Pumpkins released the epic ATUM: A Rock Opera in Three Acts, the third part of the trilogy that began with the Pumpkins’ smash-hit Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadnessin 1995, followed by 2000’s Machina/The Machines of God. In 2024, the band released Aghori Mhori Mei. Pitched as a stripped-down guitar record, and exempt from the former’s grandiosity, the songs are often riff-centric guitar jams, full of dark, in-your-face tones. But that pitch might belie the album’s rich compositional complexity and intense emotional breadth. Corgan’s writing on Aghori exemplifies all the nuance and finesse of his broader work, as do the dynamic, thoughtful guitar arrangements and hard-hitting performances.
With so much going on, how does Corgan keep his artistic vision focused and in step with the times? How does he find time to tap into the creative essence that has made his music so special? What drives his process? The only way to find out is from Corgan himself.
The Smashing Pumpkins’ Aghori Mhori Mei was pitched as a more stripped-down guitar record, but don’t let that description, fitting as it may be in comparison with their recent work, belie its majesty.
The premise of Aghori was to be more of a stripped-down guitar record. How did you approach this album from a compositional perspective?
Corgan: The idea was to return to the early language of the band and see if it had a modern application. If you were making a movie, it would be akin to: We’re going to shoot this on VHS cameras and edit in an old analog bay and see if you can make something that a modern audience would actually enjoy and appreciate.
The way most rock records are made these days is “in the box,” which is Pro Tools or whatever people use. You can hear that the digital technology is very important to the way modern rock music, whether it’s metal or alternative, is made. It’s become the fifth band member—you know what I’m saying? They’re able to do things and effect changes and musically innovate in a way that you wouldn’t if you were just on a floor with the band playing in a circle, like we used to. So, for us, we could continue down this digital path, and I’m not that interested in gridding out my guitars.
When you go listen to a Pumpkins record, that’s live playing. That’s not all chopped up—99% of what you hear is literally from our hands and mouths—we’ll still fly in a chorus here and there. If you’re at a particular crossroads, do you continue to move forward and with technology as your ally? Or do you kind of go back and see if that old way still has something magical about it? That becomes sort of the existential debate of the record, both internally and publicly, which is: Is there a there, there?
But to clarify, this isn’t an analog recording.
Corgan: We record to Pro Tools. It’s using the technology of Pro Tools to make your records that we don’t do. I’m not trying to make a point. I’m saying using the technologies that are present to write your music or using it to do things that you can’t humanly do—that we don’t do.
Listen to your standard metal record. Everything is gridded to fuck: All the amps are in the box, all the drums are in the box, there’s not a missed note, everything’s tuned to fuck. You know what I mean? That’s modern metal, and I like it. It’s not like I turn up my nose at the thing, but that’s a way of making music for many people in 2024. We decided to try and go back and make a record the old-fashioned way, not to make some sort of analog point.
“There’s a certain loneliness in the way I play because I didn’t have anybody else to play guitar with.”
You write mostly on acoustic and piano. Where do the guitar arrangements come in?
Corgan: The fundamental process, going back to the beginning, is to create the basic track; the vocal then becomes the next most important thing, and then the icing on the cake is the guitar work over the top of that, basically to support and supplement the vocal and create more melodic interaction.
I got a lot of that from Queen and Boston and some Beatles—the idea that the guitar takes on a lead voice of its own that’s distinctive and almost becomes another lead singer in the band.
That stuff doesn’t show up literally until the last day working on the song. It’ll come off wrong, but we don’t spend a ton of time on it. And I don’t know what that means other than it seems to be like everything is done, and then you go, “Okay, time for the guitar work.” You’ll spend three hours, six hours just going through and trying stuff. Then it sort of just appears, and you go, “Oh, that sounds cool,” and you move on. It benefits from being fresh or feeling kind of like an emotional reaction.
I remember being in a car circa 1975 or ’76 and “Killer Queen” by Queen was on the radio. You’re listening to a song, the song sounds cool, and there’s flange vocals, and I’m 10 years old, in the backseat. All of a sudden, that lead break comes in; it’s just fucking loud. It has that feeling of somebody stepping forward into a spotlight. It’s not a show-off thing. It’s the way it makes you feel. It’s like a lighter type of moment. We’ve always chased that feeling.
Billy Corgan's Gear
Corgan with his signature Yamaha LJ16BC in 2022.
Photo by Mike White
Guitars
- E standard: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend Z-One Black
- E backup: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend - Satin Purple Burst
- Eb standard: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend Z-One - Silver Freeze
- Eb backup: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend Z-One - Orchard Pink
- Eb standard: ’70s Gibson ES-335 walnut
- C# standard: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend Drop Z - Pearl White
- Prototype Gibson Firebird
- Billy Corgan Custom Signature Yamaha LJ16BC Black with Silver Star
- Billy Corgan Custom Signature Yamaha White with Black Star
Amps
- Ampete 444 Amplifier & Cabinet Switching System
- Korg DT-1 Rack Tuner
- Carstens Cathedral
- Orange Rockerverb MkIII
- Carstens Grace Billy Corgan Signature Head
- Laney Supergroup LA100SM
- Laney LA412 4x12 Black Country Custom
Pedals
- RJM Mastermind GT/22 MIDI Controller
- Lehle D.Loop
- Warm Audio Warmdrive
- MXR Phase 90
- Catalinbread Zero Point Tape Flanger
- Behringer Octave Divider
- Strymon Brigadier dBucket Delay
- EarthQuaker Devices Time Shadows II
- Custom Audio Electronics MC-403 power supply
Strings
- Ernie Ball Regular Slinky (.010–.046)
- Ernie Ball Power Slinky (.011–.048)
- Ernie Ball Not Even Slinky (.012–.052)
- Ernie Ball Earthwood Medium Light (.012–.054)
Guitar starts out for so many of us as this really personal thing that we spend all our time doing, and then as life gets more complicated, you just have less time. What is your relationship with the guitar like in 2024? Do you have a day-to-day relationship with guitar playing?
Corgan: I do not. I don’t really pick up the guitar much unless I’m working.
When you do pick up the guitar, is it with intent? Do the ideas come inspired by the guitar, inspired by something you play? Or are they up in your head, and then you’re grabbing a guitar to realize it?
Corgan: If I pick up a guitar, I’m looking to play something that surprises me. It’s whatever comes out. And sometimes you hit the wrong chord and go, “Oh, that’s interesting.” Or you find a new inversion or something that you never thought of before. You try to play a different scale run than you’ve played 10,000 times, always landing on the same note. It’s just looking for something just a little bit new. I find oftentimes, in that quiet solitude of just you and the guitar, this communication can happen that sort of expresses something about yourself that is surprising—an emotional feeling or a way of approach.
“You could say to me, ‘Hey, play me some Siamese-type thing that you would’ve done in ’92,’ and in five minutes, I could write you something that would sound like a song that would’ve been a Siamese song in ’92.”
The style of my guitar playing came out of taking care of my disabled brother when I was a teenager, so I was stuck inside a lot. To paint a simple visual, imagine being stuck inside on a summer’s day and watching people play outside through the window as you’re playing the guitar. That was my life for much of my teenage years, because I was in this position where I had to look after somebody who was not so much homebound, but it wasn’t like the type of child at his stage of development that you could take him in the backyard and let him run around. You kind of had to look after him. It often became easier to stick him in front of a television or let him take a nap while you’re practicing.
There’s a certain loneliness in the way I play because I didn’t have anybody else to play guitar with. I developed a style that had a kind of call-and-response aspect to it in the open strings and the drone playing, because it was a way to effect a larger conversation without somebody else in the room.
Then, when it was James [Iha] and I in the early days of the band, James would basically do different versions of what I was playing. That created an even bigger conversation that seemed to create almost like a third guitarist. You can hear that in the whistling harmonics in the background. That’s just two guitars playing, but you create a ghost effect. I’ve done a lot of guitar work in the studio where people would be visiting me, and they look at the speakers, “What’s that sound?” And I’m like, “That’s just two guitars.” They don’t believe me. I literally have to solo the two guitars and just show them. That’s the harmonic effect.
I still have that inner relationship with my playing, where I could just sit down and play and find something that sounds like a bit of a conversation.
The Reverend Billy Corgan Signature in the hands of the man himself alongside drummer Jimmy Chamberlin and guitarist James Iha.
Photo by Ken Settle
When you’re writing, picking up a guitar, looking for those things, like you said, are you still after the same feeling you had initially or has the feeling changed?
Corgan: I think it’s more trying to find something that seems to signify whatever’s happening at the moment. It’s a truthfulness. You could say to me, “Hey, play me some Siamese-type thing that you would’ve done in ’92,” and in five minutes, I could write you something that would sound like a song that would’ve been a Siamese song in ’92. I can dial in any era of the band or my writing at will, because they’re all based on methodologies and certain emotional templates. So, I’m trying to do that for today. What is the 2024 version of that that makes me feel something—anything at all?
There’s this other creative side to your work, which is your signature gear. You have four Reverend guitars, and they’re all very different from each other. You’ve created them with Joe Naylor. Can you tell me about that collaboration?
Corgan: Somehow, Joe is able to go back and listen to what I’m referencing, and then translate that into something that’s physically tangible and consistent.
I don’t think a gimmicky guitar serves anybody. My signature guitars need to be useful to anybody else doing their music, not just my kind of music. And I’m very proud of that. I think that’s what makes a great guitar—it has application to whoever picks it up. And a lot of credit to Reverend to be willing to take these chances that I’ve sort of set them off chasing.
The Reverend Billy Corgan Drop Z is specially voiced in feel and sound for D standard and lower tunings.
They’re all bold guitars, but especially the Terz and the Drop Z, which are built specifically for alternate tunings. What were you looking for when you came up with the idea of those instruments?
Corgan: The thing with the Terz, which is G to G as opposed to E to E—a step and a half higher—was in listening to guitarists like Jonny Greenwood of Radiohead and other guitar players of that generation, I noticed that the function of the guitar for many alternative guitar players was becoming more atmospheric and less elemental. I thought maybe they would like to have a higher tonal range to work in. Because, ultimately, in 2024 logic, you want to get the guitar away from the vocal. If you think of the classic Telecaster sound, well, if you’re playing in the key of G on a Telecaster, that sits exactly where the vocal is. It’s like the worst possible place for a guitar in the 21st century. But if you can increase the harmonic range of the guitar, it does sort of sit, elementally, a little higher.
I don’t think people have figured that out yet about that guitar. But I have a funny feeling that at some point somebody will, much like when Korn took the Steve Vai guitar and took it in a completely different direction and made a whole new genre of music with it. I think the Terz opens a player up to a different tonal range.
“I don’t think a gimmicky guitar serves anybody. My signature guitars need to be useful to anybody else doing their music, not just my kind of music.”
A lot of these modern alternative guitar players, they don’t play super complicated stuff. Whether they were inspired by Jonny from Radiohead or the guy from Coldplay, it’s more like a tweedle-y guitar, like twilight, vibey.... You look at their pedalboards; it’s a lot of reverbs and bucket delays and stuff like that. I get it.
On the Drop—on making Aghori, I found myself thinking a lot about Mick Mars’s guitar sound and where Mick’s guitar sat in Mötley Crüe. Early Mötley Crüe was basically a guitar tuned down a step. Something about the D range—you could do it on a normal guitar, but it gets a little sloppy with the tuning and certainly the intonation. So, I talked to Reverend about making a D-to-D guitar that doesn’t feel like a baritone guitar, that plays and feels very much like an E-to-E guitar, but gives you range. For a modern guitar player who wants to make music that ends up on the radio, the specificities of where that guitar needs to sit tonally and how it would be mixed is what I was thinking of.
So, these are instruments for the modern player who wants to make music that can reach people vis-à-vis what is the media these days—streaming or whatever. If you want to take an old guitar and tune it down to F and all that … I did all that crazy stuff, too. I wouldn’t discourage anybody from doing it. But these are specific instruments with a very specific purpose, primarily for recording.
On “Edin” [from Aghori Mhori Mei], well, that’s that guitar. I think in that song, it’s dropped, so the low string is a C. But you can hear how that guitar sits so forward in the track. That’s a credit to Joe making that guitar exactly what I wanted, and the pickups really doing their job with how it sits in the track.Corgan has an early memory of hearing Brian May’s lead break on “Killer Queen”: “It has that feeling of somebody stepping forward into a spotlight. It’s not a show-off thing. It’s the way it makes you feel. It’s like a lighter type of moment. We’ve always chased that feeling.”
I want to come back to how that affects your playing. You have these instruments that are now specifically voiced to your vision. When they get in your hands and you’re working on something, how do you exploit the sonics of those guitars? Maybe you wrote a song on acoustic, but now you have this instrument that you’ve helped ideate, and you can do stuff that your other guitars can’t. Where does that come in the creative process?
Corgan: I don’t think I have a romantic answer. For me, it’s more about recording accuracy or clarity. If you compare, let’s call it the “Mellon Collie ’95” guitar sound, where we were mostly a half-step down; it’s clear, but it’s very sludgy—a lot of midrange and not a lot of stuff above, say, 17k, because I was using those Lace Sensor pickups. Modern recording; everybody wants the guitar as far forward as you can get it.
These days, I’m mostly using these Carstens amps, which is a Chicago amp-maker, Brian Carstens. I used one amp that he made for me, the Grace, which he does sell, which is kind of a modern take on the Eddie Van Halen brown sound—a ton of gain, but clear. And then he has another amp called Empire, which is more for a metal player. I use that as well. And in some cases, I stack both amps on top of each other by reamping. He has another amp, called Cathedral, which is like a cross between a Fender Twin and a Hiwatt. Again, very clear.
“Modern recording; everybody wants the guitar as far forward as you can get it.”
The best way I can explain it, and this is my poor language-ing, but if I was to take a vintage Marshall plexi and a Les Paul, like a classic amazing guitar sound, and record the riff for “Edin,” and then I was to take my Reverend Drop Z run through a Carstens amp, and you listen to the two tracks, the modern stuff I’m using, the guitar is like six more feet forward in the track; the vintage stuff sounds kind of back there. You can hear it—a little gauzy, a little dark, and the modern stuff is right in your grill. It’s not harsh; it’s not overly midrange-y. It just sounds really good and present.
So that’s the key. Because I play so distinctively that I kind of sound like me whatever you put me through, my focus is more tonal and how it sits in the stereo field.
Are pedals just pragmatic means to achieve a tone? Or is there exploration involved there?
Corgan: Since Siamese Dream, where we famously used the op-amp Big Muff and EHX Micro Synth, and some MXR stuff, the main sound of the band is just crank through something. Going back to something my father told me many, many moons ago: guitar, chord, amp is the key. I worked in the studio with Tony Iommi. Those hands, a chord, an amp—and when he plays, God’s moving mountains. We get super granular when I’m in the studio; I might play a chord that’s no more than seven-feet long, anything so I can be as close to the amp as possible, so there’s the least amount of chord from the guitar to the amp.
It’s all about driving the amp and moving that air and moving those electrons in the tubes. That’s just the key for me. If there’s pedal work on any Pumpkins albums in the last 25 years, it’s for solos and little dinky things on the top. The main guitar sound is always pure power. We want as much pure power as possible.
YouTube It
The Smashing Pumpkins kick out “Sighommi” from Aghori Mhori Meilive on Kimmel with new-hire Kiki Wong joining Corgan and James Iha in the guitar section.
The Meteora’s upscale second outing has a lot more in common with its offset siblings than its sleek modern looks imply—and that’s a wonderful thing.
Excellent array of tones, from heavy to bluesy, indie, and funky. Great playability.
Pricey. Knobs feel somewhat rough. On-the-fly contour adjustments take some getting used to.
$2,249
Fender American II Meteora
fender.com
When Fender debuted the Meteora body shape in 2018 (as the Parallel Universe Meteora), I was among those who immediately thought it looked like a pretty worthy addition to the company’s venerated line of “offset” guitars. Taken in hand, though, the guitar may have struck some as having a bit of an identity crisis—which may account for the changes we see in the third iteration, the new American Ultra II.
All Metoras feature an intriguing blend of classic Fender elements (Strat-style headstock, Jazzmaster/Jaguar-esque outline) and in the case of the Player Plus Meteora HH and the American Ultra II, more Gibson-like appointments (humbuckers and 3-way selector). But whereas the Telecaster-like Parallel Universe model and Player Plus HH leaned a little more retro, the American Ultra II both tilts more modern and fine-tunes some of the original’s tonal quirks and limitations.
Diverging Contours
Available in three finishes (here we’ve got Texas Tea), the latest Meteora has exposed-coil Haymaker humbuckers and matching pickup rings that, alongside the anodized aluminum pickguards and knurled metal knobs, lend a more hard rock/metal aesthetic than the original Meteora’s WideRange-styled pickups and brighter finish options. (The new avalanche and ultraburst finishes in particular, with their white and crème pickups, respectively, are reminiscent of ’70s and ’80s DiMarzio-outfitted rock machines.) Having demoed the Player Plus Meteora HH inPG’s First Look video, I’ll admit I prefer that series’ looks. But there’s no arguing that both fundamental tones and the myriad permutations proffered by the American Ultra II’s unusual tone-control array feel much more useful and well thought out this time around.
Wait, “unusual?” If you’ve googled this guitar, chances are you’ve seen the same conflicting information I found. Some sites say it has two tone controls, others (including the manufacturer’s at publication time) list a master volume, a master tone, and a bass-contour knob. Upon plugging in and twiddling knobs, though, I was immediately confused and, honestly, initially not very impressed. So I looked through the case, found the manual, and finally came to the truth: The Meteora is actually devoid of traditional tone controls, using instead a master volume, a bass-contour knob (nearest the output jack), anda treble-contour knob (middle). This setup was a first for me. Also, unlike the Jaguar, the alder-bodied Meteora has a standard Fender-scale 25.5" maple neck, with an ebony fretboard and employs the company’s “modern D” profile. There’s a Graph Tech TUSQ nut, too, and sealed locking tuners.More Offset Than Meets the Eye
I tested the American Ultra II with an EL34-powered Jaguar HC50 (with a ceramic-magnet Weber Gray Wolf), a ’76 Fender Vibrolux Reverb (with alnico Celestion G10 Golds), a KT66-driven Sound City SC30, and a bunch of drive, fuzz, delay, and reverb pedals. Through the two latter amps combined, the Meteora II’s contour controls proved most powerful, yielding a pretty astonishing array of sounds—particularly with fuzz pedals. With the traditional control scheme on my favorite offset (and main band guitar, a Jaguar with Curtis Novak JAG-V pickups), I primarily use the lead circuit’s tone knob (or the rhythm circuit) to tame fuzz pedals—and I find that setup more versatile than a lot of other guitars. But the Meteora’s contour knobs take things much further, letting you effectively revoice filth pedals in ways otherwise only possible with an adjacent EQ pedal.
With both contours full up, the Haymaker pickups still lean brighter than some dual-’bucker fans might prefer—but not as strident as the Player Plus units. And the bass contour is especially helpful for warming/toughing up the bridge unit, as well as cleaning up low-mid clutter you might encounter with the neck pickup soloed and dimed. With a clean-ish tone and both pickups engaged, dialing volume and both contours back a bit yields wiry, muscular funk tones. Boost the volume back up a bit and hit the S-1 coil tap, and you get leaner funk tones very much in the Strat realm. In all, the variety of sounds possible with this control scheme is almost revelatory. So much so that it’s a wonder more guitars don’t go this route—because you’re no longer limited to just darkening or lightening a pickup with a single knob. The crossover EQ points between the two controls are well-tuned to complement each other and open up possibilities you simply couldn’t get with standard tone controls. And the treble-bleed circuit assures that volume adjustments don’t muddy things up.
The Verdict
Whether the tweaks to the American Ultra II Meteora alleviate its somewhat vague positioning is up for debate. Fender offset fans tend to fall in either the traditionalist/vintage camp or the more modern “I like the shape but not the weird switches and hardware” camp. And, to most eyes, the Ultra II probably looks pretty modern despite the vintage neck and headstock tint. But tonally, even though the control scheme looks straightforward, the array of available tones is far more akin to the versatility afforded by Jaguar and Jazzmaster circuits than, say, a modern rock guitar. It is a bit of a bummer that the Ultra costs twice as much as the Player Plus HH (albeit with hardshell case) but has no vibrato option. Considering its sheer tonal quality and versatility, the latest Meteora absolutely has the edge over its predecessor—but I’d love to see future versions fully embrace their offset-ness with a vibrato system befitting the Meteora’s sonic forebears.
Discover the iconic Mary Ford Les Paul Standard in Goldtop finish, a tribute to the trailblazing music icon and her groundbreaking partnership with Gibson legend Les Paul.
“I am thrilled that Mom is receiving this recognition for her talents,” says Mary Colleen Wess(daughter of Mary Ford and Les Paul). “I wish she was still with us to enjoy this wonderful honor, which she so richly deserves. Thank you so much, Gibson!”
Through her successful early career in country music and her connections with Gene Autry and Eddie Dean, Mary Ford--who was born Iris Colleen Summers on July 7, 1924--developed a musical partnership with Gibson icon Les Paul that led to their marriage in 1949. In 1951 alone, the duo sold over six million records, and between 1950 and 1954, they recorded a string of 16 top-ten hits that showcased Mary’s rich, smooth voice, complex, perfectly executed harmonies that she sang along with herself through multi-track recording, and overdubbing (a groundbreaking recording technique for the time), while her versatile guitar playing seamlessly blended country, jazz, and pop.
Mary Ford Les Paul Standard Goldtop - YouTube
Gibson Mary Ford Les Paul Standard Electric Guitar - Gold Top with Cherry Back
M.Ford LP Std, Gld Top/Chry BackAdd a splash of motion and mystery to a flat amp with this simple, streamlined, vintage-flavored tremolo and reverb stomp.
Simplicity and utility. Lively spring reverb simulation. Smart, spacious control layout. Nicely dovetailed modulation and reverb tones.
Can’t use harmonic tremolo or vibrato with spring reverb simulation.
$229
Keeley Zoma Stereo Reverb And Tremolo
keeley.com
There are days I plug into myFender Vibrolux, play an E minor chord with a little vibrato arm flourish, and ask, “What more could I ever need?” The simple, elegant perfection of Fender’s reverb and tremolo formula is so foundational, essential, and flat-out delicious to the senses that it gave rise to a class of pedals that consolidate the essence of that recipe.
The most famous of these is probably theStrymon Flint, a tool widely adopted by touring players that deal with changing backlines and players that make do with simpler amplifiers. While the Flint is an industry standard of sorts, at almost 350 bucks it’s also a serious investment. Less expensive alternatives include Fender’s own Tre-Verb (which uses a design and layout strikingly similar to the Flint) as well as Keeley’s excellent U.S.-made Hydra Stereo Tremolo and Reverb and their simpler, less-expensive Verb o Trem, which lacks independent switches for the two effects. But for players that like a more spacious control layout and independent reverb and tremolo switches—and are willing to sacrifice a few options to save about $120—Keeley’s new Zoma might be the most enticing Flint alternative out there.
Form Leads to Function
The Zoma is built into the same enclosure and uses the same control layout as theI Get Around rotary simulator and California Girls 12-string simulator Keeley built in collaboration with JHS Pedals and Benson Amps to honor the Beach Boys. Though destined to annoy space-economy fetishists, the Zoma’s dimensions should be little problem for those who keep their pedal effects to a minimum. The larger enclosure also offers lots of upside in the form of the spacious control layout, which facilitates fast adjustments on the fly. The sizable RCA-style knobs, particularly the big reverb level control, make adjustments with your toe easy. The blue Fender-style jewel lamp—which also blinks at the tremolo’s rate—is situated between the already well-spaced reverb and tremolo bypass switches to ensure that even the klutziest performer can avoid pressing one or both accidentally.
“The plate reverb leaves more space for the beautiful, liquid modulations from the harmonic tremolo and vibrato.”
A small 3-way toggle nestled safely among the three knobs moves between the Zoma’s three basic modes and voices: spring reverb with sine wave tremolo (the black-panel Fender formula), a plate-style reverb with brown-panel Fender-style harmonic tremolo, and plate-style reverb with more Magnatone-like pitch vibrato. The single toggle means you can’t combine different tremolo types with different reverb types as you can with the Flint. But by pressing and holding the reverb/alt switch, you can orient the tremolo after the reverb in black-panel Fender style or place the tremolo before the reverb for a thicker, blurrier tone. You can also change the reverb decay level, reverb tone, or the tremolo output level in alt mode.
Pipelines and Sines
You’d have to be pretty nitpicky to take issue with Zoma’s likeness to real spring reverb. The pings and clicks that follow transients in the Zoma’s spring simulation are particularly authentic compared to the Vibrolux and Fender Reverb tank I used for comparison. And given the possible variation that exists among vintage Fender reverb units, thanks to age, wear, and component value drift, the Zoma’s output falls well within the realm of “accurate.” The primary difference I heard in the Fenders was a little extra harmonic thickness and ghostliness in the decay at the highest reverb levels—but that was at pretty high volume and in isolation. Would you hear it with a bass and drums filling out that harmonic picture? Maybe. Would it spoil the evening of paying customers out to stomp to your instrumental surf combo? I kinda doubt it. And if the Zoma spring is ever-so-slightly less thick than the real deal, it’s still easy to excite and add splash to those harmonics—or make them more subdued—with the Zoma’s alt-mode reverb tone control, which you’re only going to find elsewhere on an outboard Fender Reverb unit. The plate reverb settings are a little more vaporous, diffuse, and lack the post-transient attack you hear at advanced spring settings. But they leave more space for dynamics—most importantly the beautiful, liquid modulations from the harmonic tremolo and vibrato that accompany them.
The harmonic tremolo is especially pretty and adds lovely dimension to lazy chord melodies. The vibrato is excellent, too—throbbing and wobbly without being overpowering at its most intense levels and capable of adding dreamy drift at subdued settings. The sine wave tremolo, by the way, is a great match for the spring reverb. There are bolder, bossier tremolos out there, but it’s a close match for the optical tremolo in most mid-1960s Fender combos, which are not always wildly forceful themselves.
The Verdict
The Zoma can be a very transformative pedal—adding splashes of surfy energy to a Marshall or big-amp presence to a Fender Champ. In terms of utility and approachability, about the only thing that rivals the Zoma is an amp with onboard tremolo and reverb. But even with the real thing you’ll probably lack the pretty harmonic tremolo, the vibrato, and the plate reverb options that extend the Zoma’s color palette. Do I wish I could mix the vibrato and harmonic tremolo with the spring reverb? After a few hours of getting used to the characteristics of each, I do. But it wouldn’t be a deal breaker if I was going to use this pedal in performance or in a recording session where I could also take advantage of the stereo capabilities. The Zoma is a mood machine par excellence that’s also a breeze to use.