Roland produced the first guitar synthesizer, the GR-500, in 1977. It was cumbersome—requiring multiple rack spaces or a tabletop stand, and a special guitar outfitted with hexaphonic pickups. Problems with latency and tracking were all too real, as anyone who tried bending a note learned. But, with the right coddling, they sounded heavenly. Check out David Bowie’s “Ashes to Ashes” to hear the GR-500 at its best.
Many generations later, Roland subsidiary Boss delivers the SY-200. Inside its vault-like 5" x 4" x 2 " metal enclosure dwells all the processing for 171 sounds spread over a dozen core analog-style synth voices, 128 preset variations on those sounds, MIDI, and a deep but simple set of controls that put a variety of ferocious-and-twisted, elegant, and classic-synth-cheesy sounds at my fingertips.
- Lead Synth Mode, Oct Lead 1 setting—all dials at noon except guitar level at 63 and effect level at 30. Zuzu guitar on Zuzu neck humbucker and Porter bridge humbucker, through Carr Vincent 1x12 combo: volume 8 o’clock, treble 2 o’clock, mid boost mode, bass 9 o’clock, reverb 10 o’clock, drive 10 o’clock, 33W.
- Pad Synth Mode, Slow Sweep setting—all dials at noon except guitar level at 88, effect level at 44, resonance at 78, tone at 100; Zuzu guitar on Porter bridge single-coil, through Carr Vincent 1x12 combo: volume 8 o’clock, treble 2 o’clock, mid boost mode, bass 9 o’clock, reverb 10 o’clock, drive 10 o’clock, 33W.
- Pad Synth Mode, Soft Pad setting—all dials at noon except guitar level at 60, effect level at 50, resonance at 70,; Zuzu guitar on Porter bridge single-coil, through Carr Vincent 1x12 combo: volume 8 o’clock, treble 2 o’clock, mid boost mode, bass 9 o’clock, reverb 10 o’clock, drive 10 o’clock, 33W.
- Sequencer Synth Mode, Seq + Noise Lead setting—all dials at noon except guitar level at 65, effect level at 50, tempo at 120,; Zuzu guitar on Porter bridge single-coil, through Carr Vincent 1x12 combo: volume 8 o’clock, treble 2 o’clock, mid boost mode, bass 9 o’clock, reverb 10 o’clock, drive 10 o’clock, 33W.
- Organ Synth Mode, Layered Organ setting—all dials at noon except guitar level at 50, effect level at 70, variation 8,; Zuzu guitar on bridge humbucker, through Carr Vincent 1x12 combo: volume 8 o’clock, treble 2 o’clock, mid boost mode, bass 9 o’clock, reverb 10 o’clock, drive 10 o’clock, 33W.
- Arpeggio, then Lead Synth Mode, Touch Filter setting: all dials at noon, except tone at 45 variation 1,; Zuzu guitar on bridge humbucker, through Carr Vincent 1x12 combo: volume 8 o’clock, treble 2 o’clock, mid boost mode, bass 9 o’clock, reverb 10 o’clock, drive 10 o’clock, 33W.
The James Cagney of Guitar Synthesis
This tough little guy is the kid cousin of Roland’s SY-1000, a 13" x 20" stomp synth issued in 2019 that brought ’80s GR-300-flavored synth sounds and more to any guitar or bass for a grand. At a third of the price, the SY-200 offers a lot to any guitarist or bassist with a taste for adventure. There’s zero latency, the dynamic response is excellent, and the control set is so simple and intuitive that you almost don’t need a manual—which is good, because the manual explains little more than the device’s exterior anatomy. (Failing to include a list of those 171 sounds is a major omission. A Google search for a PDF of the manual brought up a downloadable list.) The SY-200 runs on three AA alkaline batteries or a Boss PSA series 500ma adaptor.
The 1" x 2 1/2" LCD screen is a godsend. Running the SY-200 on the floor with my pedalboard running through the SY-200’s effects loop, I could read the effect names clearly and switch through presets readily with the Memory/CTL 1 stomp button. However, I ultimately decided to place the SY-200 on a stand to better make changes on the fly—like changing the guitar/effect balance of my 017 bubble sound preset (video-games, anyone?), or adding resonance to my favorite voice, the 109 touch filter (raging, dynamically sensitive, attenuated fuzz).
The best place to start building tones is the right-side dial, with 12 analog synth sound options.
You start building tones on the right-side dial, by selecting from one of 12 core analog synth sound options. They are lead, pad, string, bell, organ, bass, dual (beefy tones), sweep, noise, SFX, sequence, and arpeggio. Some, like arpeggio and pad, are self-explanatory. Others have characteristics associated with their organic equivalent. Bell, for example, is bright and metallic, while lead is tightly focused for soloing. Noise and SFX yield modulations and octave-type sounds that are fairly unpredictable from setting to setting but very cool as trail tones at dryer settings. And I swear that I could hear the keys clicking in 074 layered organ, where I got my Jon Lord on.
Re-set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun
Tone, resonance, and depth knobs are situated directly under the LCD screen and provide control of EQ and dimensionality. D. level and E. level are separate controls for balancing the organic guitar tone and the selected effect. The variation dial, meanwhile, lets you blend in additional voices from each sound category. For example, 074 layered organ has 13 additional variations within its sonic spectrum. The number of variations per sound varies. All the controls have detents, and the tone, resonance, depth, D. level, and E. level dials each have 100 subdivisions for ultra-precise tweaking. Sometimes the change of a few detents was imperceptible, to my ears, at least. In other settings, the arpeggio and pad, for example, very small changes could be significant.
Pushing the menu button activates the control menu and expression pedal functions and enables access to MIDI capabilities. The memory control button also works as a tap tempo, and you can control pitch shifting effects or envelope parameters via an expression pedal (not included). Want to save a particularly interstellar sound? Simply hit the menu and exit buttons at the same time, and then press down the memory dial. Bingo! It’s there in the preset bank, waiting to be called up via the Memory CTL/1 switch.
As with any synth pedal, there are occasionally unpredictable results. In a few settings, like 041 bubble, bent notes peter out a bit. And in some sweep, noise, and SFX settings, fast runs and chording got a bit sticky. But dialing back the effect level usually yielded a balance where clusters of noise sat comfortably below the core guitar tone, providing a foundation for the chaos. Some sounds, like 109 Touch Filter, had more boldness and character on the lower strings.
The Verdict
It’s hard to imagine a more sonically diverse pedal than the SY-200—especially for its size. Whether I used humbuckers, single-coils, or effects like delay and overdrive—the SY-200 was a delight to play. Even sounds that didn’t please my ear—like some chirpy classic synth tones—were intriguing and authentic. And at $299 it’s a bargain, particularly when you consider the vast number of tones and the ease with which they can be sculpted. Some players might even find that the SY-200 renders their flanger, phase shifter, organ emulator, shimmer delay, or other pedals redundant. Needless to say, there’s plenty in Boss’ latest synth to please both guitar synth newcomers and veterans.
Electro-Harmonix Hell Melter Distortion Pedal
With its take on the cult-classic, chainsaw distortion pedal, the EHX Hell Melter takes distortion to its extremes. The Hell Melter features expanded controls and tonal capabilities, allowing the already in-your-face sound of the pedal to broaden by switching to more open clipping options and boosting the internal voltage for increased headroom, less compression, and more attack.
Originally designed as the ultimate in high-gain tone, this world-famous distortion circuit is known for the death metal sounds of Sweden’s Entombed and the shoegaze wash of My Bloody Valentine. It’s even found a home in the rig of David Gilmour!
The EHX Hell Melter’s expanded control set includes Gain and Level controls, and a powerful active EQ featuring with parametric mids for improved versatility. The Dry level control allows for blending your input signal for improved low-end when used with a bass or even blending in other distorted tones.
Boost Footswitch engages an input gain boost and volume boost which is internally adjustable. The Normal/Burn switch toggles between the classic chainsaw sound and the more open clipping option.
For the first time in the band’s history, the Dawes lineup for Oh Brother consisted of just Griffin and Taylor Goldsmith (left and right).
Goldsmith’s lyrics spoke to me the loudest, with lines like “Well, you can judge the whole world on the sparkle that you think it lacks / Yes, you can stare into the abyss, but it’s starin’ right back” (a casual Nietzsche paraphrase); and “Oh, the snowfall this time of year / It’s not what Birmingham is used to / I get the feeling that I brought it here / And now I’m taking it away.” The way his words painted a portrait of the sincere, sentimental man behind them, along with his cozy, unassuming guitar work and the band’s four-part harmonies, had me hooked.
Nothing Is Wrong and Stories Don’t End came next, and I happily gobbled up more folksy fodder in tracks like “If I Wanted,” “Most People,” and “From a Window Seat.” But 2015’s All Your Favorite Bands, which debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Folk Albumschart, didn’t land with me, and by the time 2016’s We’re All Gonna Die was released, it was clear that Goldsmith had shifted thematically in his writing. A friend drew a thoughtful Warren Zevon comparison to the single, “When the Tequila Runs Out”—a commentary on vapid, conceited, American-socialite party culture—but it still didn’t really do it for me. I fell off the Dawes train a bit, and became somewhat oblivious to their three full-lengths that followed.
Oh Brotheris Goldsmith’s latest addition to the Dawes songbook, and I’m grateful to say that it’s brought me back. After having done some catching up, I’d posit that it’s the second work in the third act, or fall season, of his songwriting—where 2022’s Misadventures of Doomscrollercracked open the door, Oh Brother swings it wide. And it doesn’t have much more than Dawes’ meat and potatoes, per se, in common with acts one or two. Some moodiness has stayed—as well as societal disgruntlement and the arrangement elements that first had me intoxicated. But then there’s the 7/4 section in the middle of “Front Row Seat”; the gently unwinding, quiet, intimate jazz-club feel of “Surprise!”; the experimentally percussive, soft-spoken “Enough Already”; and the unexpected, dare I say, Danny Elfman-esque harmonic twists and turns in the closing track, “Hilarity Ensues.”
The main engine behind Dawes, the Goldsmith brothers are both native “Angelinos,” having been born and raised in the L.A. area. Taylor is still proud to call the city his home.
Photo by Jon Chu
“I have this working hypothesis that who you are as a songwriter through the years is pretty close to who you are in a dinner conversation,” Goldsmith tells me in an interview, as I ask him about that thematic shift. “When I was 23, if I was invited to dinner with grownups [laughs], or just friends or whatever, and they say, ‘How you doin’, Taylor?’ I probably wouldn’t think twice to be like, ‘I’m not that good. There’s this girl, and … I don’t know where things are at—can I share this with you? Is that okay?’ I would just go in in a way that’s fairly indiscreet! And I’m grateful to that version of me, especially as a writer, because that’s what I wanted to hear, so that’s what I was making at the time.
“But then as I got older, it became, ‘Oh, maybe that’s not an appropriate way to answer the question of how I’m doing.’ Or, ‘Maybe I’ve spent enough years thinking about me! What does it feel like to turn the lens around?’” he continues, naming Elvis Costello and Paul Simon as inspirations along the way through that self-evolution. “Also, trying to be mindful of—I had strengths then that I don’t have now, but I have strengths now that I didn’t have then. And now it’s time to celebrate those. Even in just a physical way, like hearing Frank Zappa talking about how his agility as a guitar player was waning as he got older. It’s like, that just means that you showcase different aspects of your skills.
“I am a changing person. It would be weird if I was still writing the same way I was when I was 23. There would probably be some weird implications there as to who I’d be becoming as a human [laughs].”
Taylor Goldsmith considers Oh Brother, the ninth full-length in Dawes’ catalog, to be the beginning of a new phase of Dawes, containing some of his most unfiltered, unedited songwriting.
Since its inception, the engine behind Dawes has been the brothers Goldsmith, with Taylor on guitar and vocals and Griffin on drums and sometimes vocal harmonies. But they’ve always had consistent backup. For the first several years, that was Wylie Gelber on bass and Tay Strathairn on keyboards. On We’re All Gonna Die, Lee Pardini replaced Strathairn and has been with the band since. Oh Brother, however, marks the departure of Gelber and Pardini.
“We were like, ‘Wow, this is an intense time; this is a vulnerable time,’” remarks Goldsmith, who says that their parting was supportive and loving, but still rocked him and Griffin. “You get a glimpse of your vulnerability in a way that you haven’t felt in a long time when things are just up and running. For a second there, we’re like, ‘We’re getting a little rattled—how do we survive this?’”
They decided to pair up with producer Mike Viola, a close family friend, who has also worked with Mandy Moore—Taylor’s spouse—along with Panic! At the Disco, Andrew Bird, and Jenny Lewis. “[We knew that] he understands all of the parameters of that raw state. And, you know, I always show Mike my songs, so he was aware of what we had cookin’,” says Goldsmith.
Griffin stayed behind the kit, but Taylor took over on bass and keys, the latter of which he has more experience with than he’s displayed on past releases. “We’ve made records where it’s very tempting to appeal to your strengths, where it’s like, ‘Oh, I know how to do this, I’m just gonna nail it,’” he says. “Then there’s records that we make where we really push ourselves into territories where we aren’t comfortable. That contributed to [Misadventures of Doomscroller] feeling like a living, breathing thing—very reactive, very urgent, very aware. We were paying very close attention. And I would say the same goes for this.”
That new terrain, says Goldsmith, “forced us to react to each other and react to the music in new ways, and all of a sudden, we’re exploring new corners of what we do. I’m really excited in that sense, because it’s like this is the first album of a new phase.”
“That forced us to react to each other and react to the music in new ways, and all of a sudden, we’re exploring new corners of what we do.”
In proper folk (or even folk-rock) tradition, the music of Dawes isn’t exactly riddled with guitar solos, but that’s not to say that Goldsmith doesn’t show off his chops when the timing is right. Just listen to the languid, fluent lick on “Surprise!”, the shamelessly prog-inspired riff in the bridge of “Front Row Seat,” and the tactful, articulate line that threads through “Enough Already.” Goldsmith has a strong, individual sense of phrasing, where his improvised melodies can be just as biting as his catalog’s occasional lyrical jabs at presumably toxic ex-girlfriends, and just as melancholy as his self-reflective metaphors, all the while without drawing too much attention to himself over the song.
Of course, most of our conversation revolves around songwriting, as that’s the craft that’s the truest and closest to his identity. “There’s an openness, a goofiness—I even struggle to say it now, but—an earnestness that goes along with who I am, not only as a writer but as a person,” Goldsmith elaborates. “And I think it’s important that those two things reflect one another. ’Cause when you meet someone and they don’t, I get a little bit weirded out, like, ‘What have I been listening to? Are you lying to me?’” he says with a smile.
Taylor Goldsmith's Gear
Pictured here performing live in 2014, Taylor Goldsmith has been the primary songwriter for all of Dawes' records, beginning with 2009’s North Hills.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/Tinnitus Photography
Guitars
- Fender Telecaster
- Gibson ES-345
- Radocaster (made by Wylie Gelber)
Amps
- ’64 Fender Deluxe
- Matchless Laurel Canyon
Effects
- 29 Pedals EUNA
- Jackson Audio Bloom
- Ibanez Tube Screamer with Keeley mod
- Vintage Boss Chorus
- Vintage Boss VB-2 Vibrato
- Strymon Flint
- Strymon El Capistan
Strings
- Ernie Ball .010s
In Goldsmith’s songwriting process, he explains that he’s learned to lean away from the inclination towards perfectionism. Paraphrasing something he heard Father John Misty share about Leonard Cohen, he says, “People think you’re cultivating these songs, or, ‘I wouldn’t deign to write something that’s beneath me,’ but the reality is, ‘I’m a rat, and I’ll take whatever I can possibly get, and then I’ll just try to get the best of it.’
“Ever since Misadventures of Doomscroller,” he adds, “I’ve enjoyed this quality of, rather than try to be a minimalist, I want to be a maximalist. I want to see how much a song can handle.” For the songs on Oh Brother, that meant that he decided to continue adding “more observations within the universe” of “Surprise!”, ultimately writing six verses. A similar approach to “King of the Never-Wills,” a ballad about a character suffering from alcoholism, resulted in four verses.
“The economy of songwriting that we’re all taught would buck that,” says Goldsmith. “It would insist that I only keep the very best and shed something that isn’t as good. But I’m not going to think economically. I’m not going to think, ‘Is this self-indulgent?’
Goldsmith’s songwriting has shifted thematically over the years, from more personal, introspective expression to more social commentary and, at times, even satire, in songs like We’re All Gonna Die’s “When the Tequila Runs Out.”
Photo by Mike White
“I don’t abide that term being applied to music. Because if there’s a concern about self-indulgence, then you’d have to dismiss all of jazz. All of it. You’d have to dismiss so many of my most favorite songs. Because in a weird way, I feel like that’s the whole point—self-indulgence. And then obviously relating to someone else, to another human being.” (He elaborates that, if Bob Dylan had trimmed back any of the verses on “Desolation Row,” it would have deprived him of the unique experience it creates for him when he listens to it.)
One of the joys of speaking with Goldsmith is just listening to his thought processes. When I ask him a question, he seems compelled to share every backstory to every detail that’s going through his head, in an effort to both do his insights justice and to generously provide me with the most complete answer. That makes him a bit verbose, but not in a bad way, because he never rambles. There is an endpoint to his thoughts. When he’s done, however, it takes me a second to realize that it’s then my turn to speak.
To his point on artistic self-indulgence, I offer that there’s no need for artists to feel “icky” about self-promotion—that to promote your art is to celebrate it, and to create a shared experience with your audience.
“I hear what you’re saying loud and clear; I couldn’t agree more,” Goldsmith replies. “But I also try to be mindful of this when I’m writing, like if I’m going to drag you through the mud of, ‘She left today, she’s not coming back, I’m a piece of shit, what’s wrong with me, the end’.... That might be relatable, that might evoke a response, but I don’t know if that’s necessarily helpful … other than dragging someone else through the shit with me.
“In a weird way, I feel like that’s the whole point—self-indulgence. And then obviously relating to someone else, to another human being.”
“So, if I’m going to share, I want there to be something to offer, something that feels like: ‘Here’s a path that’s helped me through this, or here’s an observation that has changed how I see this particular experience.’ It’s so hard to delineate between the two, but I feel like there is a difference.”
Naming the opening track “Mister Los Angeles,” “King of the Never-Wills,” and even the title track to his 2015 chart-topper, “All Your Favorite Bands,” he remarks, “I wouldn’t call these songs ‘cool.’ Like, when I hear what cool music is, I wouldn’t put those songs next to them [laughs]. But maybe this record was my strongest dose of just letting me be me, and recognizing what that essence is rather than trying to force out certain aspects of who I am, and force in certain aspects of what I’m not. I think a big part of writing these songs was just self-acceptance,” he concludes, laughing, “and just a whole lot of fishing.”
YouTube It
Led by Goldsmith, Dawes infuses more rock power into their folk sound live at the Los Angeles Ace Hotel in 2023.
