
The reclusive pedal builder discusses the origins of his famed Centaur overdrive, the more affordable new KTR design, and how one pedal can inspire so much adoration and disdain.
If you've spent any amount of time on guitar-gear forums, you know they can often devolve into pretty abrasive battles of opinion. Even when a thread starts out with the best of intentions, it's not uncommon for it to morph into the online equivalent of a mythical Hydra. Forum administrators attempt to clean things up and lock out the more abusive commenters, but once they cut off one of the creature's heads, two more appear.
Of all the forum topics that can inspire such heated debate, few inspire more passion, awe, and vitriol than a guitar pedal named after a different sort of mythological creature. Launched in 1994 at the front end of the modern-day boutique-pedal boom, the Klon Centaur overdrive was immediately met with critical acclaim. So much so that it's ironic how much the pedal named after the half-human, half-horse creatures from Greek legend has since developed such a complex mythology of its own. And the fact that this seemingly mundane, 3-knob stompbox is used by such high-profile players as Jeff Beck, John Mayer, Joe Perry, Nels Cline, and Matt Schofield only compounds matters. Never mind the fact that the majority of the circuit comes encased in epoxy.
We recently spoke to Klon's Bill Finnegan about the origins of the Centaur, his new KTR design—which made a (naturally) limited debut in October of 2012—and how an overdrive pedal can fetch more than $1,000 on the used market and inspire such emotionally charged reactions.
Birth of a Centaur
In the 1980s, Bill Finnegan played in a band where he plugged his Telecaster straight into a Twin Reverb turned up as loud as the soundman would permit. In bigger Boston-area clubs, the Twin's volume would be at 6 or sometimes even 7, but in smaller places Finnegan could usually turn it up to only 3 1/2 or 4. The latter still sounded good, but not as harmonically rich as when the amp was working harder. Although it didn't occur to him at the time, a pedal that would give him the sound of a cranked amp is exactly what he needed.
Finnegan recalls that, in 1990, guitarists began chasing after out-of-production Ibanez Tube Screamers in droves. He'd heard about a guy who was selling two TS9s, and—hoping one of the little green pedals would help make his Twin sound like it was at 6 when it was only at 4—he went to check them out. It immediately became clear that Tube Screamers were not for him.
Finnegan built Centaurs—around 8,000 in total—by hand, on a cheap folding card table in a succession of small apartments for 15 years.
“[The TS9] compressed the transient response of the original signal a lot, had a midrange character I didn't like, and subtracted a noticeable amount of bass response from the signal as well," he explains. The same seller also had a TS808 that he wasn't selling. And, though Finnegan thought it sounded a little better than the TS9s, he still felt it had the aforementioned shortcomings. What he really wanted was a big, open sound, with a hint of tube clipping—a sound that would make you unaware a pedal was involved.
That's when Finnegan starting looking into creating a new design that would meet those criteria. He recruited a friend who'd just graduated from MIT with an electrical engineering degree. Though both had day jobs, for the next couple of years they got together once a week and tried to push the ball down the field. Within the first year, they'd developed prototypes that were much closer to what Finnegan wanted than a Tube Screamer, and various guitarists in the Boston area encouraged them to go into production so they could buy their own. But Finnegan felt the circuit could still be improved, so he and his partner kept working.
Eventually, the MIT friend bought a house in the suburbs and the distance made it harder to work together. Finnegan later partnered with the late Fred Fenning (who tragically passed away in a plane crash in the mid '90s)—another MIT grad whom Finnegan says was brilliant and very determined. Although Fenning had never designed an audio circuit and had no real interest in music, he was exceptionally good at finding ways to give the circuit what Finnegan thought it needed at any given time. Finnegan says Fenning deserves a lot of credit for the circuit in both the Centaur and its successor, the KTR.
Photo by Sarah Pollman
The entire design process took four and a half years, and when the pedal debuted at the end of '94 Finnegan was soon very busy trying to keep up with the demand—building, testing, and shipping the pedals as a single-man outfit.
Evolution of the Legend
From that point on, demand for Centaur pedals grew. Finnegan says he typically worked 55–60 hours per week in effort to keep turnaround times as short as possible, though he was hindered by the fact that the circuit was very labor intensive and time consuming. He also says it was more expensive to build than most other pedals due to the fact that everything from its cast enclosure to its knobs, pots, and sheet-metal bottom were custom crafted. Finnegan estimates the aggregate cost of a Centaur as seven to eight times that of a pedal built with off-the-shelf parts.
“For the last seven years or so of Centaur production, the retail price was $329," says Finnegan, “and to be honest, my profit margin was not very sensible—no real business person would have considered, for more than a moment, doing what I was doing for the return I was receiving. Also, given that I live in Boston, it was impossible for me to hire people and expand: Real estate here is in short supply and very expensive, so there was no possibility of my renting commercial space to set up an actual shop."
Finnegan built Centaurs—around 8,000 in total—by hand, on a cheap folding card table in a succession of small apartments for 15 years. In addition to the modest returns from his efforts, Finnegan says he felt immense stress as he tried to oblige those who wanted a Centaur but didn't want to pay the inflated price used specimens were fetching because of the 12- to 14-week turnaround time for a new one. It gradually became clear to Finnegan that the situation was unsustainable.
“These two photos show my testing jig for Centaur boards, with one of my experimental boards on it," Bill Finnegan shares. “The experimental boards have sockets for every component in the circuit, which enables me to listen to any particular component and then swap it out for a substitute while keep everything else the same. This experimental board is the one I used for developing the KTR. Unlike the Centaur which had through-hole components with leads, I wanted to use surface-mount components for the KTR, which meant that my assistant, John Perotti, and I had to spend an enormous amount of time soldering through-hole leads onto hundreds of very small surface-mount components so that we could evaluate them and choose the ones that would make the KTR sound the same as the Centaur did."
Photo by Nolan Yee.
“I was going to have to kill it before it could kill me," Finnegan recalls. In 2008, he began working on a ground-up redesign that had to meet the following criteria: It had to be straightforward to build, so that any good contract manufacturing firm would be able to do the job easily and well. It had to be rugged and reliable. It had to be a design with no hookup wires whatsoever, and with a modular footswitch assembly so that faulty footswitches could be replaced in a few minutes. It had to be considerably smaller than the Centaur. Except for the all-important clipping diodes, it had to have surface-mount components, which take up less space on a board than traditional through-hole components. Finnegan also wanted to prove—to himself and to those who said it couldn't be done—that, with careful component selection and smart board layout, he could design a successor that would sound exactly the same as the Centaur.
“This turned out to be quite a challenge," Finnegan says. “My assistant, John Perotti, and I spent almost two years listening to different surface-mount capacitors in various places in the circuit before I felt this had been achieved." Lastly, he wanted the new unit to be visually unique—a tall order, given that the unit would be housed in a standard enclosure.
I don't have any overall preference for single-coil guitars or humbucker guitars myself. I like pretty much everything under the sun in the way of electric guitars, and over the years I've owned a bunch of very different ones.
The one new feature Finnegan wanted to incorporate was a switch that enabled the player to choose the buffered output of the original Centaur or a true-bypass output. “Without the buffer there is a very noticeable degradation of the signal due to the capacitance inherent in guitar cables," says Finnegan, “but some people prefer it, so I wanted to provide that option in the new unit." He quickly adds, “My good friend Paul Cochrane—of Tim and Timmy [pedals] fame—was the guy who designed the switching circuitry, so a tip of the hat to Paul."
It took a long, long time to finish the KTR. And though Finnegan says it was much more difficult than he expected, he feels it has achieved all of his design objectives. “It sounds the same as the Centaur, takes up considerably less space on a pedalboard, is less expensive, and it's distinctive aesthetically—it's got the Klon thing going on." He laughs, “Whatever the Klon thing is."
You obviously have high expectations from your designs, though you're also perplexed by the reactions it inspires. What do you want people to see in Klon?
What I want people to expect from me and from Klon are designs that are exceptional in the literal sense of the term—designs that are conceptually sound and well executed. Designs that are unique and not to be expected from any other designer, no matter how talented.
When you were designing the Centaur, did you begin with any assumptions about players who'd be interested in it?
I was working from the assumption that there were a lot of guitar players with really good guitars and really good amps who were looking for an overdrive pedal that—whether it was adding dirt or not itself—wouldn't mess up what they already had and liked. Given the popularity of the Centaur and now the KTR, I would say that this has been borne out.
In your opinion, do the pedals work better with single-coils or humbuckers?
Neither. I don't have any overall preference for single-coil guitars or humbucker guitars myself. I like pretty much everything under the sun in the way of electric guitars, and over the years I've owned a bunch of very different ones. Each of them has its own particular thing going on, and when I was working on the design of the circuit I was always thinking about how it could be more effective in preserving and accentuating the essence of whatever instrument it was receiving the signal of.
What can you tell us about Centaur units that occasionally turn up on eBay with the claim that they are “new, with full warranty"—are they fakes?
I have a very close friend who is a single mom and whose job doesn't pay all that well. Every now and then she needs a little help, financially. I'm aware of what the used units are selling for, so at some point after I discontinued the Centaur it occurred to me that—if and when she needed me to—I could build a Centaur and give it to her to sell on eBay and use the proceeds to keep going. This has worked really nicely, and I'll continue to do it for as long as my old Centaur parts last. Since I discontinued the Centaur, a lot of people have asked me whether I'd consider building one for them—sometimes offering me pretty substantial amounts of money—but I'm not going to do that. The only Centaurs I build anymore are the ones I build for her, and I don't make or collect a single cent from them.
Klon builder Bill Finnegan wanted to include this text—which refers to the dialogue surrounding his famed Centaur design—on the casing of his new KTR pedal. “It's a wry observation that I can't be held responsible for the overheated emotions that have been introduced into various Klon debates since the earliest days of the Centaur," he says. “I knew that in using that text I'd be stirring things up some, but I thought it would be interesting and fun to see how, in reacting to it, people would self-select into either the 'love it' or the 'hate it' group."
Photo by Nolan Yee.
Do you think Centaurs will retain their high value now that the KTR is available?
Yes, in general I think they will. They're collectible and—with the one small exception I just mentioned—no more will be built, unless I'm very mistaken. For almost everyone, the KTR is a much more sensible option now: It sounds the same, it's much smaller, it's way the hell less expensive—$269 retail—and you don't have to worry about losing something that's worth $1,000 or $1,500 or $2,000 if it's stolen. On the other hand, the Centaur has something of its own that people really like and are willing to pay serious money for. The design has achieved a certain status—I would use the analogy of old, custom-colored Marshalls. I have two small-box, 50-watt Marshall Lead heads—model 1987s: One is a black-Tolex, aluminum-panel head from 1970, and the other is a red-Tolex, plexi-panel head from 1969. They have the same circuitry and sound almost identical, but of course the red one is worth way more than the black one. I like cool, distinctive things as much as the next guy, so I'm not in a position to criticize someone for being willing to pay more than I myself would, or more than most people would, if they want it that much.
What are the demographics of the typical Klon user?
It seems to be more or less everyone. Baby-boomer guys who are still only interested in the music they grew up with, but also a lot of younger, indie-rock people, and also a number of musicians whose work is more experimental and can't be easily categorized.
What can you tell us about the germanium diode you like so much in your circuits?
In 1993 and '94, when it was clear that Fred and I were getting close to producing what I thought was the full measure of what our circuit was capable of, I started buying quantities of every diode I thought might be at all suitable for the head-to-toe pair that clips the signal, except for when the circuit is in clean-boost mode. This was pre-internet, so I was going to the public library, looking up distributors in the Thomas Register, and then calling those distributors to find out what they had—email was still in the future then! I started out ordering both germanium and silicon diodes, but pretty quickly I began concentrating on the germaniums. Usually, though not always, they sounded more natural to me than the silicon ones did. After months and months of listening, I felt a particular new-old-stock germanium diode sounded best in the circuit, so I thought I should buy as many of those as I could afford. Eventually, I found a distributor that had a significant quantity of them. They were stocking them for a huge OEM, who—without any warning, I gather—stopped using that part. I bought them all at a good price. The distributor was thrilled to be able to sell them and not have to eat them.
Does the KTR have the same diodes?
Yes, the KTR has the exact same NOS diodes as all Centaurs did.
Since I discontinued the Centaur, a lot of people have asked me whether I'd consider building one for them—sometimes offering me pretty substantial amounts of money—but I'm not going to do that.
What is it you like about the sound of that diode when it clips?
It's a little more complicated than that, because the diode clipping happens on top of some op-amp clipping in the main gain stage. So it's op-amp clipping, then diode clipping. But to answer your question, this particular diode in the head-to-toe pair in the circuit just produces a very natural-sounding distortion in terms of the harmonic response. It's not harsh, but it also doesn't round off the highs excessively. It doesn't compress the signal as much as many germanium diodes seem to, but on the other hand it provides a little bit of what—to me—is exactly the right kind of compression.
Which other pedal makers are using this particular diode?
To the best of my knowledge, no one. It's a part that's been out of production for decades now, so even if someone else could identify it, I seriously doubt they'd be able to find any—I've tried a number of times myself.
So what are you working on now?
Lately, I've been focused almost entirely on putting together a good long-term arrangement for production of the KTR. This kind of thing has always been more of a challenge for me than it seems to be for anyone else, but I admit that I do have requirements—particular things I insist on—that few, if any of those other people have, so I guess that the increased difficulty is to be expected. I'm not saying that my stuff is necessarily higher quality than anyone else's, but rather that my criteria are somewhat different and that therefore the process is necessarily also somewhat different.
What is the current availability of the KTR?
The unit should be widely available—through dealers both here in the U.S. and in various other countries—by the time this interview is published. Hopefully by then I will have found time to get some kind of updated Klon website going, which of course will have contact info for the current dealers.
The top of the KTR features some text that's apparently causing controversy with some buyers: “Kindly remember: The ridiculous hype that offends so many is not of my making."
Lots of people got the point that I was trying to make and really enjoy the text, while other people find it off-putting or even insulting. It's a wry observation that I can't be held responsible for the overheated emotions that have been introduced into various Klon debates since the earliest days of the Centaur. I knew that in using that text I'd be stirring things up some, but I thought it would be interesting and fun to see how, in reacting to it, people would self-select into either the “love it" or the “hate it" group.
Photo by West Warren.
What does the future hold for Klon?
I've been thinking about this quite a bit lately. Part of me wants to work on design ideas I have—finish those designs to my satisfaction—and then make the resulting products available. The other side of me wants to either refrain from working on those ideas or work on them, finish them to my satisfaction, and then not put the resulting products out. As you may or may not know, many unscrupulous people have expropriated my hard work on the Centaur and KTR circuits and are selling pedals that incorporate my circuit—and in at least some cases, they're making a lot of money. And apparently there is nothing I can do about this from a legal standpoint.
Quite aside from the money they're making from my work, there's the question of what those pedals sound like. My understanding is that a number of those people are claiming their versions sound “identical" to mine, which—for reasons not only pertaining to the clipping diodes you asked me about—I think is very unlikely. Whatever expertise those various people may have, I'm going to go out on a limb and state my belief that it's not likely to be a good or sufficient substitute for the experience I have with the circuit: I co-designed it, I've hand-built and listened to about 8,000 Centaur units, I spent two years working hard to make sure the KTR would sound the same as the Centaur, and I've put almost 25 years of my life into it. If those other guys' pedals don't sound right, then of course Klon's reputation—and my reputation as someone who cares deeply about the quality of what goes out under the Klon name—will inevitably take a hit.
So my feeling is this: If any new product I come out with will be ripped off immediately after its release, and if unscrupulous people will again be making money off of my work, and if on top of that Klon's reputation and my own personal reputation will be at risk every time someone decides to put out his own version of one of my designs, then where is my incentive to release anything new at all? Over the past few years, I've talked with a number of other pedal designers about this stuff—good people who design their own circuits, and whose circuits have also been ripped off—and we all agree there is now an enormous disincentive for any of us to create and release new products.
From what I understand, a lot of the people posting on various online forums seem to feel that it's a wonderful thing for the pedal consumer to have more choices—how could that be bad? Here's how it could be bad: Maybe talented pedal designers—originators—will simply stop designing pedals and take their talents elsewhere to apply them to the design of other classes of products that can't be ripped off quite so easily.
Top 5 Klon Myths
Gear forums are regularly aglow with all sorts of comments about Klon. Here are the most common misconceptions.
- The Centaur is a slightly tweaked [insert name of extant pedal here] circuit. According to Klon's Bill Finnegan, “it's a much more complex circuit than the typical overdrive/boost circuit. These claims stopped almost immediately after it was reverse-engineered in 2007 and a schematic was posted online."
- Certain Centaurs sound better than others. Finnegan says he's heard this claim about earlier units, later ones, gold ones, and silver ones. “The fact is, under the hood they're all basically the same. In 1995 I made three small changes: I added a resistor to give the circuit some protection against a static charge delivered to its input—a change that has no sonic effect. I also had the circuit board redesigned with a ground plane for better grounding—again, no sonic effect except the potential for a little less hum. And I added a resistor to give the circuit a very small amount of additional low-mid response—I wanted it to have a little more roundness when used with, say, a Strat into a Super Reverb. I made no other changes."
- The KTR doesn't/can't sound as good as the Centaur. Finnegan says this claim arises because the KTR uses surface-mount parts while the Centaur (and most other pedals) use through-hole parts. “For two years my assistant, John Perotti, and I listened to hundreds of different surface-mount parts throughout the circuit," Finnegan explains. “While it wasn't an easy or pleasant process, we both feel—and now a lot of other people feel, as well—that I achieved my design goal: With careful component selection, the KTR sounds the same as the Centaur."
- You have to play really loud for the Centaur or KTR to sound good. “You need to have the output knob high enough that the signal hits the front end of your amp harder than your bypassed signal would," says Finnegan. “In other words, you need to use the unit as an overdrive in the literal sense of the term." The assumption here is that users are pairing the Centaur or KTR with an all-tube amp. “It's always a good thing if your amp is turned up enough to get the harmonic response and distortion that are engendered by tubes clipping and output transformers saturating. This is true whether you're playing through a 4-watt or a 100-watt amp."
- Certain clones sound “exactly the same" as a Klon. Finnegan's contention is that, given several factors—especially the rarity of the Centaur's germanium clipping diodes—it would be extremely difficult to create an identical-sounding overdrive/boost.
[Updated 12/12/21[
- Klon vs. Klone: 5 Affordable Stomps Go Head to Head with a Gold ... ›
- What Does It Even Mean When We Say a Pedal Is "Transparent"? - Premier Guitar ›
- Green Giant: History of the Tube Screamer - Premier Guitar ›
- Klon vs. Klone: 5 Affordable Stomps Go Head to Head with a Gold Original - Premier Guitar ›
- Why I Built This: Atelier Rosenkrantz’s Rachel Rosenkrantz - Premier Guitar ›
- A Beautifully Simple Vibrato Like No Other - Premier Guitar ›
- Spun Loud The Litigator Review - Premier Guitar ›
From full-size to mini, these six pedals deliver funky “chickas,” screaming, fuzz-infused lead tones, and more.
The variations on a classic stompbox bring you tonal versatility and more!
Xotic XW-2 Wah Pedal
The Xotic XW-2 Wah Pedal is a high-quality, versatile stomp that creates a ’70s-style “throaty” wah sound.
xotic.us
Sonicake FlipWah
The FlipWah combo pedal combines a classic wah and active volume pedal in one, with a footswitch to select between the two modes. A Q knob adds even more versatility.
sonicake.com
$79 street
McCon-O-Wah McWah
The McWah-2B delivers classic tone with modern upgrades. Handwired, adjustable, and durable, it features a custom pot and true bypass for optimal sound. Inspired by the original, legendary wah pedal.
mcconowah.com
$428 street
Dunlop Jerry Cantrell Rainier Fog Cry Baby Wah
This Cry Baby signature model complements Jerry Cantrell’s sound with a dark, punchy voice, a wide sweep, and a control on the side for fine-tuning the toe-down frequency.
jimdunlop.com
Dunlop CBJ95 Cry Baby Junior Wah Pedal
The Cry Baby Junior Wah features front-mounted jacks and an 8" housing for clean configurations on the world’s most popular boards.
jimdunlop.com
Dunlop Cry Baby Daredevil Fuzz Wah Pedal
A collaboration with Daredevil Pedals, this Cry Baby Wah combines the bright, aggressive vocality of a modded Cry Baby Wah with a custom fuzz circuit that’s downright gnarly.
jimdunlop.com
Leveraging 3D printing technology, the new Floyd Rose Original locking nuts are designed to deliver unmatched precision and consistency, replacing the traditional “lost wax” casting method that dominated for decades.
The shift to 3D printing allows for intricate detailing and tighter tolerances, ensuring each nut meets exact specifications.
The process begins with powdered metal, which is precisely 3D printed into the desired shape using advanced metal printing technology. After printing, the parts are depowdered and cleaned before undergoing a sintering process—an advanced heat treatment—during which the parts achieve full density and hardness. Lastly, the nuts are CNC “kiss-cut” to exacting specifications for consistency and control of the fit before receiving a premium electroplating finish.
“Floyd Rose has always been synonymous with innovation, and by embracing this incredible new technology we are able to continue that legacy,” said Andrew Papiccio, president of AP International Music Supply of which Floyd Rose is a division. “The accuracy and flexibility of the new 3D printing method will allow us to make a more consistent piece while also giving us full control of the manufacturing right here in the USA.”
Initially, the 3D-printed locking nuts will be available in ten classic sizes with a 10” radius, with plans to expand the range to accommodate various fretboard radii in Spring 2025. This augmentation will offer players more options for customizing their setups to match a wide variety of fretboard curvatures.
To get a sneak peek at the new Floyd Rose USA Series, come visit us at NAMM in booth 5734 in Hall D.
With flexible voltage adjustments, precise control, customizable protection, compact design, and affordable pricing at $299, the Brownie is the ultimate solution for optimizing tone and safeguarding your gear.
AmpRx, the trusted name behind the industry-renowned BrownBox, has unveiled its newest innovation: The Brownie, a voltage-optimizing power supply for modern amps and the first of its kind.
Designed by AmpRx co-owner and CEO Cassandra Sotos (2024 NAMM Female Entrepreneur of the Year), the Brownie provides unparalleled control, flexibility, and protection specifically for modern tube amplifiers by allowing the player to both increase and decrease voltage with volt-by-volt precision.
Priced at $299, the Brownie offers an affordable and essential solution for protecting your investment in your high-quality tube amp. It allows you to optimize your tone and safeguard your gear from variations in voltage by givingthe ultimate advantage: knowing exactly what you’re feeding your amp.
Known as the secret weapon of touring professionals, AmpRx products have been spotted on stage with bands like the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Zac Brown Band, Iron Maiden, and many more. AmpRx is now bringing its game-changing technology to an even broader audience with this compact, affordable, and versatile product. Try the Brownie for yourself and discover exactly why artists, amp designers, and technicians rely on AmpRx to provide consistent sound, performance, and extend the life of their gear.
The Brownie will be available January 20th, 2025, presented at NAMM Global Media Day and on display at Booth #5630.
WHAT MAKES THE BROWNIE SPECIAL? Building on the success of the flagship BrownBox, the Brownie offers key innovations tailored for modern amplifiers:
- Flexible Voltage Adjustments: The Brownie is the first in the AmpRx line to both decrease and increase voltage, providing optimal performance for modern tube amps (often at 117-120V).
- Precise Control: Adjust voltage in ultra-precise -1V increments when decreasing, and by +3V or +5Vwhen increasing, allowing musicians to fine-tune their tone with precision.
- Customizable Protection: The Brownie ensures safe operation, putting control directly in the player's hands, and includes two fuse options: 2A for smaller setups and 4A for larger setups, ensuring compatibility with diverse gear.
- Compact and Portable Design: Smaller and lighter than the original BrownBox, the Brownie is perfect for musicians seeking portability, durability, and streamlined functionality. It can even fit on a pedalboard or in a backpack.
- Wide Accessibility: At just $299, the Brownie offers professional-grade voltage control at a price point that’s accessible to musicians everywhere.
Email sales@brownbox.rocks to order and stop by NAMM Booth #5630 to see the Brownie in action, talk with the owners, team and artists, and see exactly why so many people insist onAmpRx products when they make music.
For more information, please visit brownbox.rocks.
The latest multi-effect from Wampler is a dreamy if sometimes difficult-to-master delay/reverb combo.
Great, instantly useable reverb and delay tones. Impressive breadth of sounds in one box. Solid construction. Good value.
Controls and operation can feel confusing.
$299
Wampler Catacombs
wamplerpedals.com
“Modeling versus tube” might be the gear world title fight of the 2020s, but “LED menu versus none on multieffects” is a pretty riveting undercard. I have sympathies in both corners. The ocean-deep onscreen interface of theMeris Mercury X, for instance, was a bear to navigate, but it also yielded some of the most exciting and tweakable reverb I’ve ever heard. At the same time, I’ll always be partial to having every control I need at my fingertips, and every parameter a knob twirl away from just-right.In theory, the digitalWampler Catacombs fits into the second category, the one I prefer. It’s a super-loaded reverb and delay combo pedal, with seven delay algorithms and five reverb options that sound great. Though in practice, Catacombs sometimes turned out to be a bit more complicated to navigate than I expected.
Lost in the Catacombs
The Catacombs is one of those pedals that begs a dedicated read of the manual before you dive in. Wampler says that the interface enables users to “navigate effortlessly” without the use of onboard screens and menus. I was excited by this: Like I said, I don’t love getting lost down tiny LED display rabbit holes and would much rather have all I need at hand. The Catacombs technically satisfies that desire, but it also demonstrates tradeoffs involved with that design ethic. I’m alright with certain controls pulling double-duty, but when every single knob shares two functions, things can get hairy, and doing your preparation up front pays big dividends.
You have to press and hold the left footswitch for a second to access the alt controls (labeled in blue), including reverb selection on the main rotary knob. Though this doesn’t complicate matters too much when using a reverb or delay exclusively, it can be tricky when using a reverb and delay simultaneously. A few times, I scrambled to switch control modes to tame a super-loud runaway reverb or a self-oscillating delay, and the feeling of frantically spinning knobs with no impact because you’re not in the right control mode isn’t a good one. Additionally, you might not know where a given parameter is set because each knob is shared between the delay and reverb effect. The eight onboard preset slots take some of this guesswork away. And Catacombs would be a cinch in the studio once the control navigation becomes second-nature, but I got nervous thinking of trying to navigate any of these quirks during a set.
Entombed in Ambience
Catacombs’ operational challenges don’t take too much away from the whole experience because it sounds so great. Each of the six delay programs, and each of the five reverbs, were instantly useable and familiar. Side by side with my Walrus Fathom and EarthQuaker Avalanche Run, the plate, hall, and spring reverb modes held their own, and something about the pedal’s wet/dry mix made my playing feel especially alive, present, and cinematic at most settings. I was especially fond of the spring reverb with the decay maxed out—it was juicy and metallic in all the right ways.
The delay modules were just as satisfying. They include three algorithms for tape-style delays, two analog-style delays, and a single digital echo, and each mode offers a distinct texture and experience. The ability to quickly switch the effects from series to parallel offers fun and useful experimentation, letting you apply the reverb algorithm to just your dry signal, or to the repeats, too. I especially enjoyed sticking the plate reverb on my dry signal and leaving it off the delay, creating warped senses of space and continuity.
The Verdict
Though it sounds excellent, immersive, and inviting, I was flustered more than once while trying to bend Catacombs to my will. In some respects, I was reminded of a menu where you’re given three desirable options and have to pick just two. In this case, the options are affordability, sound quality, and user-friendliness. Catacombs is certainly reasonably priced and sounds excellent. But because it navigates a difficult middle path between skipping a cost-bumping digital menu and being more complex than more-straightforward, what-you-see-is-what-you-get units, you should make sure you’re comfortable with that compromise.