Get custom-shop options on a bargain budget by making it yourself.
After playing and collecting pedals for a while, many players decide that off-the-shelf pedalboards don't quite offer all of the options they'd prefer for organizing and getting the most out of their stompboxes. Some of us want little more than a platform with space for our effects and a power supply, while others are at the opposite end of the spectrum and can't live without various jacks and specialized connections being built right into the pedalboard.
For this DIY piece, I wanted to solve the problem I'm facing: I have a growing pedal collection, but after using some of the pre-assembled products on the market for a while I decided they weren't quite cutting it. I wanted something closer to a custom pedalboard—minus the elevated price tag. After scoping out the range of custom options offered by various companies, I decided to make something with all the features I wanted. It's a bit more involved than duct-taping everything to an IKEA shelf, but it's definitely not as involved as some of the space-age control centers on the market. I was careful to keep costs as low as possible, though. in fact, I was able to keep the price around $100.
Tools & Supplies
- Appropriate lengths of 1/2" oak and 3/4" cabinet-grade birch
- Table Saw (with taper angle attachment and 80-tooth blade)
- Mitre Saw
- Router (with 1/2" straight bit)
- Medium-sized Phillips screwdriver (or similar-sized bit for a power drill)
- (6) 1/2" self-tapping wood screws (1/8" diameter with fine threads)
- (24) 1" self-tapping wood screws (1/8" diameter with fi ne threads)
- (10) 1 1/4" self-tapping wood screws (1/8" diameter with fi ne threads)
- Kreg Jig
- Marinco 5278BL power inlet
- (2) solderless Neutrik conenctors
- 7/8" hole saw
- 1 3/4" hole saw
- Power drill
- 1/8" drill bit
- Wire strippers
- Electrical tape
- IEC power cord
- 2" industrial-strength Velcro
- 220-grit sandpaper
A couple of notes about things we're not covering here: I won't go into the theory of wiring up your board (effect order, switching options, etc.)—that's a whole other topic. Here we're covering the basics of getting a signal and power to and from your board. Also, though most players need a pedalboard case because they drag their boards all over the place, we'll refer you to the fine folks at blackbirdpedalboards.com, stompin-ground. com, nycpedalboards.com and other outlets with a multitude of sizes, options, and materials for you to choose from once you've decided on the final size and shape of your board.
All right—let's get to it!
Step 1
Lay out your pedals on the floor in ideal performing position and use a tape measure to determine what size of board will fit them. I decided on 24" x 16". I wanted my board to have an angled surface so I can comfortably reach two rows of pedals, so we'll also make the surface angle from 4" high in back down to 1 1/2" high along the front edge. This will also let me mount a power supply underneath.
Step 2
Next, we need a basic frame. I used a miter saw to cut the four sides to the appropriate lengths. I chose 1/2" oak for the sides, and 3/4" cabinet-grade birch for the top.
Step 3
I determined that a 7-degree cut on each of the pedalboard's side pieces would provide the optimum surface incline.
To cut the sides flat and even so they'd make complete contact with the underside of the top, I used a table saw and the blue taper-angle attachment in the top portion of this photo. A blade with a higher number of teeth reduces the chance of rough or damaged edges, so I used an 80-tooth blade.
Step 4
I cut the holes for the power inlet and neutrik connectors in the board's right side piece. I used a 7/8" hole saw for the smaller holes, and a 1 3/8" hole saw for the larger one. If you prefer adding more jacks for, say, an effects loop or a parallel acoustic setup, add the appropriate number of connectors using the same tools.
Step 5
To assemble the frame, we need holes for the screws. I used a kreg jig to pre-drill all the holes with a 3/8" drill bit. for a secure fit, I used two 1 1/4" screws for the front two edges, and three for each of the back corners. be sure to use fine-threaded screws, which prevent splintering and hold things together much tighter. While you're tightening the screws, make sure everything is square and level so it won't rock back and forth during use—the last thing you need to worry about while performing is whether you're stomping too hard.
Step 6
In order for the signal and power cables to pass efficiently throughout the board, I opted for a slotted pattern on the top piece. I used a 1/2" straight bit in my router to cut each channel. Each slot was 7" long, and I left 6" of wood between each pair. Be careful about placing the slots too close together—it can weaken the top of the pedalboard.
Step 7
To attach the top piece, I used the Kreg jig and a 3/8" drill bit to pre-drill three pairs of holes along each surface. I spaced them 7" apart along the front and back, and 3" apart along the sides. The top of my board is 1/2" thick, so I used 1" wood screws that wouldn't puncture the top surface. Using screws rather than glue makes it so I can easily remove the top if I ever want to replace or repair anything.
Step 8
Now it's time to wire up the hardware connectors. I didn't want to risk a bad connection with the power jack, so I used a Marinco 5278BL flanged inlet, which lets you connect wires with screws rather than solder. (You can find this part, as well as the solderless connectors, at pedalboardshop.com.)
To begin, snip the male end from a regular IEC power cord. Inside you'll see three wires with black, green, and white insulation. Strip about 1/2" of the insulation from each wire, then match the wires with the corresponding inlet connectors. Finally, tighten each screw and wrap any exposed wire with electrical tape.
Step 9
Before attaching the hardware, apply whatever finish you prefer. I used a dark polyurethane stain. Don't be afraid to do a few coats to achieve the desired hue, just make sure you wipe the board thoroughly between each one. After the stain has dried, be sure to sand the top surface of your board so that whatever you use to attach the pedals—be it Velcro or a specialized product like Godlyke's Power-grip—has a nice surface to bond to.
Step 10
To facilitate a power supply upgrade or replacement in the future, I used a 2" strip of industrial-strength Velcro to attach the power supply to the underside of the top piece.
Mount the power supply and install the wired inlet and solderless connectors with 1/2" wood screws.
Use fine-grit (at least 220) sandpaper to sand the surface nice and smooth so the Velcro adheres sufficiently.
That's it! Once you've attached your pedals and wired up your power and signal cables, you're ready to plug in and go—enjoy!
Special thanks to Mason Marangella from Vertex Effects, David Quinones from Blackbird Pedalboards, Luke Summers from Agape Custom Shop, and Michael Helweg from Helweg Pedalboards.
[Updated 7/27/21]
- How to Build a Flight-Friendly Pedalboard - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY: How to Make a 9V Power Supply Out of a Drill Battery - Premier ... ›
- 10 DIY Patch Kits to Streamline Your Board - Premier Guitar ›
- Powering Your Board - Premier Guitar ›
- The Stompbox-Builder’s Secret Weapon - Premier Guitar ›
- The Stompbox-Builder’s Secret Weapon - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY: How to Make a 9V Power Supply Out of a Drill Battery - Premier Guitar ›
- Reader Pedalboards 2022, Part 1 - Premier Guitar ›
- Tools for the Task: Pedalboard Power Supplies - Premier Guitar ›
- Learn How to Swap Diodes to Improve Your Overdrive - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY: How to Level, Crown & Dress Guitar Frets - Premier Guitar ›
- DIY 101: How to Build a Delay Pedal Kit - Premier Guitar ›
- Discover the Power of J. Rockett Archer Select: Review - Premier Guitar ›
- Way Huge Stone Burner Fuzz Pedal Review ›
- EarthQuaker Devices Zoar Dynamic Audio Grinder Review ›
- Are Pedals Necessary for True Guitar Freedom? ›
- JAM Pedals Harmonious Monk mk.2 Review ›
- Reader Pedalboards 2024: Fuzzy to Checkered Guitar Pedals ›
- EHX Pico Attack Decay, Oceans 3-Verb, Canyon, Deep Freeze ›
- Beetronics Nectar Guitar Pedal Review ›
- Want to Build Pedals? Here's the Ultimate Kit Roundup ›
- Mojo Hand FX Stylus Modulation Pedal ›
- Death By Audio Octave Clang V2 Review ›
- MXR Layers Review: Unleash Your Sonic Creativity - Premier Guitar ›
- 6 Next Level Reverb Pedals - Premier Guitar ›
- Pro Pedalboards 2025: 17 Incredible Pro Guitarists Share - Premier Guitar ›
- Power Up Your Pedalboard Performance with These Top Supplies - Premier Guitar ›
- Premier Guitar’s Reader Pedalboards 2025 - Premier Guitar ›
- An Easy Guide to Four Minor Guitar Repairs - Premier Guitar ›
- Save Money with DIY Guitar Repairs: No Repair Fees! - Premier Guitar ›
Columnist Janek Gwizdala with heroes Dennis Chambers (left) and Mike Stern (right).
Keeping your gigging commitments can be tough, especially when faced with a call from a hero. But it’s always the right choice.
Saying “yes!” to everything early on has put me in a place now where I can say no to almost everything and still be okay. That wasn’t without its challenges. I’d like to share a story about a “yes” that would haunt me for years.
As bass players, we can, if we choose, quite easily find ourselves in a wide variety of situations without having to change much about our sound or our playing. If your time is good and you’re able to help those around you feel good and sound better, the telephone will pretty much always ring.
Playing jazz as an electric-bass player living in New York City from 2000 to 2010 was somewhat of a fool’s errand in terms of getting work. No one wanted electric bass, and bandleaders would go to the bottom of a list of 100 upright players before they would even think about calling you. Not only that, but I wasn’t even at the top of the electric list when I first moved there. Not even close. Anthony Jackson, Richard Bona, Will Lee, Tim Lefebvre, James Genus, Lincoln Goines, Mike Pope, John Benitez, Matthew Garrison—that’s a who’s who of the instrument when I first moved to town, and I was very much a freshman with almost no experience. Almost…
I’d been lucky enough to play extensively with Kenwood Dennard (Jaco’s drummer), and a little with Hiram Bullock (Jaco’s guitarist) before moving to NYC which helped create a little momentum, but only a VERY little.
This is where the story begins:
I’d sent Mike Stern a demo back in late ’97. He’d not only taken the time to listen to it but had called my parents’ house right after I moved to the U.S. to tell me he loved it and wanted to hang. I missed the call but eventually met him at a clinic he gave at Berklee.
Of course, I was buzzing about all of this. It helped me stay laser-focused on practice and on moving to NYC as soon as possible. I got the typical “look me up when you get to town” invitation from Stern and basically counted the seconds through the three semesters I stayed at Berklee until I could split town.
I arrived with a ton of confidence but zero gigs. And nothing happened overnight. It really took saying yes to literally everything I was offered just to keep a roof over my head. Through that process, I felt like I was getting further away from playing with my jazz heroes.
The early gigs were far from glamorous—long hours, terrible pay, and sometimes, after travel expenses, they cost me money to play.
“Whenever I have a single moment of doubt, I think about the time I had to say no to my heroes—the reasons I moved to America, the reason I do what I do.”
When Stern finally called, a few years into living in NYC, things started to move pretty quickly. I began playing a lot of gigs at the 55 Bar with him, and short road trips became a thing—a four-night stint at Arturo Sandoval’s new club in Miami, gigs in Chicago, Cleveland, and upstate New York, and then some international work, including a tour of Mexico and a trip to Brazil, if I remember right.
But the hardest phone call of my career came from Mike not long into my time touring with him. It went something like this:
“Hey man, what’s your scene in April? Lincoln can’t make a trip to the West Coast. It’s just one gig. Trio… with DENNIS CHAMBERS.”
Mike didn’t shout Dennis’ name, but that’s how I heard it. My all-time hero. Someone I’d been dreaming about playing with for over 15 years. And here’s the kicker: I had to say no.
I’d just committed to six weeks with Jojo Mayer’s band Nerve in Asia and Europe, and there was no way I could bail on him. And there was no way I could afford to ditch six weeks of work for a single gig with Mike. To say that haunted me for years is an understatement. I was destroyed that I had to turn it down.
The tour with Jojo was amazing—the posters hang in my studio as a reminder of those times to this day. And thankfully, I was able to go on some years later and play dozens of shows with Mike and Dennis all over the world—truly some of the highlights of my career.
I still think about that phone call, though. Whenever I have a single moment of doubt, I think about the time I had to say no to my heroes—the reasons I moved to America, the reason I do what I do. I get emotional writing and thinking about it even now. But I've learned to never have regrets and understand you just have to believe in the process and maintain the willpower to continue—no matter what.
New RAT Sound Solution Offers a Refined Evolution of Distortion
ACT Entertainment ’s iconic RAT brand has unveiledthe Sterling Vermin, a boutique distortion guitar pedal that blends heritage tone with modernrefinement. With a new take on RAT’s unmistakable sound, Sterling Vermin delivers a new levelof precision and versatility.
“The Sterling Vermin was born from a desire for something different — something refined, withthe soul of a traditional RAT pedal, but with a voice all its own,” says Shawn Wells, MarketManager—Sound, ACT Entertainment, who designed the pedal along with his colleague MattGates. “Built in small batches and hand-soldered in ACT’s Jackson, Missouri headquarters, theSterling Vermin is a work of pure beauty that honors the brand legacy while taking a bold stepforward for creativity.”
The Sterling Vermin features the LM741 Op-Amp and a pair of selectable clipping diodes.Players can toggle between the traditional RAT silicon diode configuration for a punchy, mid-range bite, or the BAT41 option for a smoother, more balanced response. The result is a pedalthat’s equally at home delivering snarling distortion or articulate, low-gain overdrive, with a wide,usable tonal range throughout the entire gain spectrum.
The pedal also features CTS pots and oversized knobs for even, responsive control that affordsa satisfying smoothness to the rotation, with just the right amount of tension. Additionally, thepolished stainless-steel enclosure with laser-annealed graphics showcases the merging of thepedal’s vintage flavor and striking design.
“From low-gain tones reminiscent of a Klon or Bluesbreaker, to high-gain settings that flirt withBig Muff territory — yet stay tight and controlled — the Sterling Vermin is a masterclass indynamic distortion,” says Gates, an ACT Entertainment Sales Representative. “With premiumcomponents, deliberate design and a focus on feel, the Sterling Vermin is more than a pedal, it’sa new chapter for RAT.”
The RAT Sterling Vermin is available immediately and retails for $349 USD. For moreinformation about this solution, visit: actentertainment.com/rat-distortion .
The Miku was introduced about 10 years ago and is based on the vocal stylings of Hatsune Miku, a virtual pop icon. But it does much more than artificial vowels and high-pitched words.
It’s tempting to think of this pedal as a joke. Don’t.
It all started a few years ago through a trade with a friend. I just wanted to help him out—he really wanted to get a fuzz pedal but didn’t have enough cash, so he offered up the Korg Miku. I had no idea then, but it turned out to be the best trade I’ve ever made.
Here’s the truth: the Korg Miku is not your typical guitar pedal. It won’t boost your mids, sculpt your gain, or serve up that warm, buttery overdrive you’ve always worshipped. Nope. This little box does something entirely different: It sings! Yes, sings in a Japanese kawaii accent that’s based on the signature voice of virtual pop icon Hatsune Miku.
At first glance, it’s tempting to dismiss this pedal as just a gimmick—a joke, a collector’s oddity, the kind of thing you buy for fun and then forget next to your Hello Kitty Strat. But here’s the twist: Some take it seriously and I’m one of those people.
I play in a punk band called Cakrux, and lately I’ve been working with a member of a Japanese idol-style girl group—yeah, it’s exactly the kind of wild mashup you’d ever imagine. Somewhere in the middle of that chaos, the Miku found its way into my setup, and weirdly enough, it stuck. It’s quirky, beautiful, occasionally maddening, and somehow … just right. After plenty of time spent in rehearsals, studio takes, and more sonic experiments than I care to admit, I’ve come to appreciate this pedal in unexpected ways. So here are a few things you probably didn’t know about this delightfully strange little box.
It’s Not Organic—and That’s OK
Most guitar pedals are chasing something real. Wah pedals mimic the human voice—or even a trumpet. Tube Screamers? They’re built to recreate the warm push of an overdriven tube amp. Cab sims aim to replicate the tone of real-world speaker setups. But the Miku? It breaks the mold. Instead of emulating reality, it channels the voice of a fictional pop icon. Hatsune Miku isn’t a person—she’s a vocaloid, a fully digital creation made of samples and synthesis. The Miku doesn’t try to sound organic, it tries to sound like her. In that sense, it might be the only pedal trying to reproduce something that never existed in the physical world. And honestly, there’s something oddly poetic about that.
A World-Class Buffer
Here’s a fun fact: I once saw a big-name Indonesian session guitarist—you know, the kind who plays in sold-out arenas—with a Miku pedal on his board. I was like, “No way this guy’s busting out vocaloid lines mid-solo.” Plot twist: He only uses it for the buffer. Yep, the man swears by it and says it’s the best-sounding buffer he’s ever plugged into. I laughed … until I tried it. And honestly? He’s not wrong. Even if you never hear Miku sing a note, this pedal still deserves a spot on your board. Just for the tone mojo alone. Wild, right?
“The Miku is one of those pedals that really shouldn’t work for your music, but somehow, it just does.”
Impossible to Tame
Most pedals are built to make your life easier. The Miku? Not so much. This thing demands patience—and maybe a little spiritual surrender. First off, the tracking can be finicky, especially if you’re using low-output pickups. Latency becomes really noticeable and your picking dynamics suddenly matter a lot more. Then there’s the golden rule I learned the hard way. Never—ever—put anything before the Miku. No fuzz, no wah, no compressor, not even a buffer! It gets confused instantly and says “What is going on here?” And don’t even think about punching in while recording. The vocal results are so unpredictable, you’ll never get the same sound twice. Mess up halfway? You’re starting from scratch. Same setup, same take, same chaotic energy. It’s like trying to recreate a fever dream. Good luck with that.
Full Range = Full Power
Sure, it’s made for guitar, but the Miku really comes to life when you run it through a keyboard amp, bass cab, or even a full-range speaker. Why? Because her voice covers way more frequency range than a regular guitar speaker can handle. Plug it into a PA system or a bass rig, and everything sounds clearer, richer, way more expressive. It’s like letting Hatsune Miku out of her cage.
The Miku is one of those pedals that really shouldn't work for your music, but somehow, it just does. Is it the best pedal out there? Nah. Is it practical? Not by a long shot. But every time I plug it in, I can’t help but smile. It’s unpredictable, a little wild, and it feels like you’re jamming in the middle of a bizarre Isekai anime scene. And honestly, that’s what makes it fun.
This thing used to go for less than $100. Now? It’s fetching many times that. Is it worth the price? That’s up to you. But for me, the Korg Miku isn’t just another pedal—it’s a strange, delightful journey I’m glad I didn’t skip. No regrets here.
Two guitars, two amps, and two people is all it takes to bring the noise.
The day before they played the coveted Blue Room at Third Man Records in Nashville, the Washington, D.C.-based garage-punk duo Teen Mortgage released their debut record, Devil Ultrasonic Dream. Not a bad couple of days for a young band.
PG’s Chris Kies caught up with guitarist and vocalist James Guile at the Blue Room to find out how he builds the band’s bombastic guitar attack.
Brought to you by D’Addario.
Devilish Dunable
Guile has been known to use Telecasters and Gretsches in the past, but this time out he’s sticking with this Dunable Cyclops DE, courtesy of Gwarsenio Hall—aka Jordan Olds of metal-themed comedy talk show Two Minutes to Late Night. Guile digs the Dunable’s lightness on his shoulders, and its balance of high and low frequencies.
Storm Warning
What does Guile like about this Squier Cyclone? Simple: its color. This one is also nice and easy on the back, and Guile picked it up from Atomic Music in Beltsville, Maryland.
Crushing It
Guile also scooped this Music Man 410-HD from Atomic, which he got just for this tour for a pretty sweet deal. It runs alongside an Orange Crush Bass 100 to rumble out the low end.
James Guile’s Pedalboard
The Electro-Harmonix Micro POG and Hiwatt Filter Fuzz MkII run to the Orange, while everything else—a DigiTech Whammy, Pro Co Lil’ RAT, and Death by Audio Echo Dream 2—runs to the Music Man. A TC Helicon Mic Mechanic is on board for vocal assistance, and a TC Electronic PolyTune 3, Morley ABY, and Voodoo Labs Pedal Power 3 Plus keep the ship afloat.