Super versatile EQ. Punchy and powerful in tracking situations. Surprisingly sweet clean tones. Useful DI features. Fun!
Midrange focus comes at expense of airiness. Push button switches can be noisy.
$299 (not including potential US tariff upcharge)
Peavey Joshua Homme Decade Too
The punchy and potent practice amp that propelled many classic QOTSA tracks proves surprisingly versatile thanks to a flexible EQ section and cool clean tones.
One of the reasons classic Queens of the Stone Age tracks leap from radio speakers like striking vipers is because Josh Homme is a true recording artistāan individual that chases and realizes the sounds in his mind by any means necessary. When you play the 10-watt, solid-state Peavey Decade Too with Homme and QOTSA in mind you understand why the original Peavey Decade became integral to that process. Itās feral, present, nasty, bursting with punky attitude, and when tracked and mixed with a booming bass, sounds positively menacing. But itās also a lovely clean jangle machine that will lend energy to paisley psych pop or punch to a Bakersfield Telecaster solo.
Objectively speaking, if youāve played an ā80s Peavey practice amp before, you will know many of these sounds well. (Many of my own early amplified experiences came courtesy of a borrowed Backstage 30, so they are etched deep in my marrow and consciousness.) Like any small amp with a little speaker and cabinet, itās marked by an inherent, pronounced midrange honkāno doubt, an ingredient that Homme found appealing in his original Decade. The saturation is thick and surprisingly dimensional. But itās the 3-band EQ, with added bass and top-end boost buttons, that really extends the versatility of the Decade Too. In many contexts, it made a cherished vintage Fender Champ sound like a one-trick pony. The Decade Too may not excel at cooking-tubes-style distortion, but in terms of punch, clarity, and versatility in the studio environment, it delivers the goods.
Peavey Josh Homme Decade Too 10-watt 1 x 8-inch Combo Amplifier
Decade Too 1x8" 10w Combo Amp$149
Marshall 1959 Super Lead
The very definition of classic, vintage Marshall sound in a highly affordable package.
Thereās only one relevant question about Marshallās new 1959 Super Lead overdrive/distortion pedal: Does it sound like an actual vintage Super Lead head? The answer is, simply and surprisingly, yes. The significant difference I heard within the voice of this stomp, which I ran through a Carr Vincent and a StewMac Valve Factory 18 kit amp for contrast, is that itās a lot quieter than my 1972 Super Lead.
The Super Lead, which bore Marshallās 1959 model number, debuted in 1965 and was the amp that defined the plexi sound. That sound is here in spades, clubs, diamonds, and hearts. Like the Super Lead, the pedal is easy to use. The originalās 3-band EQ is replaced by a single, rangeful tone control. The normal dial and the volume, which together mimic the character created by jumping the first and second channels of a plexi head, offer smooth, rich, buttery op-amp-driven gain and loudness. And the high-treble dial functions much like the presence control on the original amp.
The pedal is sturdy and handsome, too. A heavy-duty metal enclosure evokes the classic black-with-gold-plate plexi look and a vintage-grille-cloth motif. Switches and knobs (the latter with rubber sides for slip-free turning) are ultra solid, andārefreshinglyāthereās a 9V battery option in addition to a barrel-pin connection. Whether with single-coils or humbuckers, getting beefy, sustained, historic tones took moments. I especially delighted in approximating my favorite Super Lead head setting by flooring the high-treble, normal, and tone dials, and turning back the tone pots on my Flying V, evoking Disraeli Gears-era Clapton tone. That alone, to me, makes the 1959 Super Lead stomp a bargain at $149.Cool compression profile that yields blooming and nasty fuzz with fangs. Simple. Excellent value!
Not a ton of variation in the fuzzās simple controls.
One big, bad, and very boss no-frills fuzz.
On the surface, fuzz is an almost barbarian conceptāa nasty sound thatās easy to grasp in our imaginations. But contrast David Gilmourās ultra-creamy Big Muff sounds with James Gurleyās free and visceral fuzz passages from Big Brother and the Holding Companyās Cheap Thrillsand you remember that two different fuzzes, in the hands of two different players, can speak very different languages. The latter artist concerns us here because Gurley did his work with a Jordan Boss Tone, which is the inspiration for the Ananashead Spirit Fuzz.
Ananasheadās Pedro Garcia has a knack for weirder 1960s fuzzes. HisMeteorite silicon Fuzzrite clone, for instance, is a knockout. This take on the two-transistor Boss Tone is equally thrilling, and genuinely idiosyncratic when it runs at full tilt. It exhibits tasty inherent compression, and transient notes ring out as pronounced and concise before blooming into full viciousnessāa quality that shines when paired with neck-position humbuckers (and which probably made the original circuit appealing to Spiritās Randy California, another 1960s Boss Tone devotee). That tone profile gives the Spirit Fuzz meatiness that stands out among ā60s-style two-transistor circuits, and the sense of mass, combined with the pedalās intrinsic focus, makes it superb for tracking. The Spirit loves humbuckers, which coax real sweetness from the circuit. But it was just as happy to take a ride with a Jaguar bridge pickup and an old Fender Vibrolux with the reverb at 10. Sounds painful, right? On the contrary, it was one of the most haunting fuzz sounds I can remember playing.
Strong midrange-focused personality. Particularly vowel-ly and vocal sweep. Feels controlled.
Some players will miss silkier, hazier bass-range sounds.
$249
Dunlop Mick Ronson Cry Baby
Park and fly with this mid-focused but very vocal wah honoring Bowieās right-hand man.
Dunlop Mick Ronson Wah - MAIN by premierguitar
Mick Ronsonālead ripper, lieutenant, riff-dealer, and arranger in David Bowieās Spiders from Marsāwas such a cool amalgam of ā60s British guitar voices. He had Keith Richardsā sense of rhythm and hooks, Jimmy Pageās knack for evil-sounding ear candy, and a preference for loud, simple rigs: Les Paul, Marshall, Tone Bender, Echoplex, and, most critically, a Cry Baby wah. You know the sound of this Cry Baby. Itās everywhere on early 1970s Bowie recordsāāQueen Bitch,ā āMoonage Daydream,ā and āWidth of a Circle,ā to name a fewāand it put discernible fangs and venom in his playing. There are many such sounds in Dunlopās excellent new tribute, the Mick Ronson Cry Baby.
Ronno was not a wah player in the āwocka-wockaā sense. He primarily used the pedal in a fixed position or with subtle longer sweeps. His favorite wah for the job was an early Cry Baby built in Italy by Jen. These wahs were notoriously, shall we say, āuniqueā from specimen to specimen. And without Ronnoās original on hand for comparison, itās hard to know how close the tribute gets to nailing it. But there is an unmistakable mid focus that mirrors and invites Ronnoās biting phrasingāparticularly in Bowieās live recordings from the time. The new pedalās sweep starts out squawky at the heel-down position, where my other vintage-voiced wahs just sound foggy. That midrange emphasis and presence remains through its sweep, suggesting the Ronson wahās singing range is narrow. On the contrary, the many distinctly different vowel sounds within that range color the base tone more strongly than many wahs with a smoother, bassier taper. That profile lends itself to great control and multiple bold, distinct soundsāparticularly when an angry gain device is situated upstream.
Very diverse slate of tones. Capable of great focus and power. Potentially killer studio tool.
Sculpting tones in a reliably reproducible way can be challenging. Midrange emphasis may be a deal breaker for some.
$195 street
Bold-voiced, super-tunable distortion that excels in contexts from filtered boost to total belligerence.
Whitman Audio calls the Wave Collapse a fuzzāand what a very cool fuzz it is. But classifying it strictly as such undersells the breadth of its sounds. The Seattle, Washington-built Wave Collapse has personality at low gain levels and super crunchy ones. Itās responsive and sensitive enough to input and touch dynamics to move from light overdrive to low-gain distortion and degenerate fuzz with a change in picking intensity or guitar volume. And from the pedalās own very interactive controls, one can summon big, ringing, near-clean tones, desert sludge, or snorkel-y wah buzz.
The Wave Collapse speaks many languages, but it has an accentāusually an almost wah-like midrange lilt that shows up as faint or super-pronounced. Itās not everyoneās creamy distortion ideal. But with the right guitar pairings and a dynamic approach, the Wave Collapseās midrange foundation can still span sparkly and savage extremes that stand tall and distinctive in a mix. Thereās much that sounds and feels familiar in the Wave Collapse, but the many surprises it keeps in store are the real fun.
Heavy Surf, Changing Waves
The absence of a single fundamental influence makes it tricky to get your bearings with the Wave Collapse at first. Depending on where you park the controls to start, you might hear traces of RAT in the midrange-forward, growly distortion, or the Boss SD-1 in many heavy overdrive settings. At its fuzziest, it howls and spits like aFuzz Face orTone Bender and can generate compressed, super-focused, direct-to-desk rasp. And in its darker corners, weighty doom tones abound.
The many personalities are intentional. Whitman Dewey-Smithās design brief was, in his own words, āa wide palette ranging from dirty boost to almost square-wave fuzz and textures that could be smooth or sputtery.ā A parallel goal, he says, was to encourage tone discoveries in less-obvious spaces. Many such gems live in the complex interrelationships between the EQ, filter, and bias controls. They also live in the circuit mash-up at the heart of the Wave Collapse. The two most prominent fixtures on the circuit are the BC108 transistor (best known as a go-to in Fuzz Face builds) and twin red LED clipping diodes (associated, in the minds of many, with clipping in the Turbo RAT and Marshall Jubilee amplifier). Thatās not exactly a classic combination of amplifier and clipping section components, but itās a big part of the Wave Collapseās sonic identity.
The BC108 drives one of two core gain stages in the Wave Collapse. The first stage takes inspiration from early, simple fuzz topologies like the Tone Bender and Fuzz Face, but with a focus on what Dewey-Smith calls āexploiting the odd edges and interactivity in a two-transistor gain stage.ā The BC108 contributes significant character to this stage. The second, post-EQ gain stage is JFET-based. Itās set up to interact like a tube guitar amp input stage and is followed by the clipping LEDs. Dewey-Smith says you can think of the whole as a āfairlyā symmetric hard-clipping scheme.
āThe magic of the circuit is that those gain stages are very complimentary. When stage one is running clean, it still passes a large, unclipped signal that hits the second stage, making those classic early distortion sounds. Conversely, when the first stage is running hot, it clips hard and the second stage takes a back seatāmostly smoothing out the rough edges of the first stage.ā Factor in the modified Jack Orman pickup simulator-style section in the front end, and you start to understand the pedalās propensity for surprise and expressive latitude.
Searchinā Safari
The Wave Collapseās many identities arenāt always easy to wrangle at the granular-detail level. The control setāknobs for bias, filter color, input level, and output level, plus switches for āmassā (gain,) ārangeā(bass content at the input), and ācenterā (shifts the filterās mid emphasis from flat)āare interdependent in such a way that small adjustments can shift a toneās character significantly, and it can be challenging to find your way back to a tone that sounded just right five minutes ago. Practice goes a long way toward mastering these sensitivities. One path to reliably reproducible sounds is to establish a ballpark tone focus with the filter first, dial in the input gain to an appropriately energetic zone, then shape the distortion color and response more specifically with the bias.
As you get a feel for these interactions, youāll be knocked out by the sounds and ideas you bump into along the way. In addition to obvious vintage fuzz and distortion touchstones I crafted evocations of blistering, compressed tweed amps, jangly Marshalls, and many shades of recording console preamp overdrive. The Wave Collapse responds in cool ways to just about any instrument you situate out front. But while your results may vary, I preferred the greater headroom and detail that comes with single-coil pickup pairings. Humbuckers, predictably conjure a more compressed and, to my ears, less varied set of sounds. I also found black-panel Fender amps a more adaptable pairing than Vox- and Marshall-style voices. But just about any guitar or pickup type can yield magnificent results.
The Verdict
Though itās hard to avoid its filtered midrange signature entirely, the Wave Collapse is a pedal of many masks. Once you master the twitchy interactivity between its controls, you can tailor the pedal to weave innocuously but energetically into a mix or completely dominate it. These capabilities are invaluable in ensemble performances, but itās super enticing to consider how the Wave Collapse would work in a studio situation, where its focus and potency can fill gaps and nooks in color and vitality or turn a tune on its head. Pedals that stimulate the inner arranger, producer, and punk simultaneously are valuable tools. And while the Wave Collapse wonāt suit every taste, when you factor together the pedalās sub-$200 cost, thoughtful design, high-quality execution, and malleability, it adds up to a lot of utility for a very fair price.