Flexible filtering options and a vicious fuzz distinguish the Tool bass master’s signature fuzz-wah.
Great quality filters that sound good independently or combined. Retains low end through the filter spectrum. Ability to control wah and switch on fuzz simultaneously. Very solid construction.
Fairly heavy. A bit expensive.
$299
Dunlop JCT95 Justin Chancellor Cry Baby Wah
jimdunlop.com
Options for self-expression through pedals are almost endless these days. It’s almost hard to imagine a sonic void that can’t be filled by a single pedal or some combination of them. But when I told bass-playing colleagues about the new Dunlop Justin Chancellor Cry Baby—which combines wah and fuzz tuned specifically for bass—the reaction was universal curiosity and marvel. It seems Dunlop is scratching an itch bass players have been feeling for quite some time.
Triple Threat
To call the Justin Chancellor Cry Baby a two-in-one doesn’t do the pedal justice, simply because the difference between the two filter effects is so distinct. The first filter, called “Wah,” is a traditional wah that uses the red Fasel inductor circuitry of a modified Cry Baby. The second filter, designated “U.K.,” lives in the same sonic ballpark as the filter in Chancellor’s older, British-made, Wal basses. This filter sounds drastically different than the standard wah filter and is more reminiscent of a traditional envelope filter.
Both filters have dedicated controls for volume and Q. Q adjusts the bandwidth and intensity of the filter peak. You switch between the filters using a large footswitch on the very top of the pedal. The fuzz controls occupy the lower half of the pedal’s right side, and consist of fuzz, tone, and volume. The bypass switch for the fuzz is at the very bottom of the pedal and an additional “pedal topper” cap is included so you can make the switch slightly taller and activate it with your heel without taking your toe off the wah treadle. Dunlop says this was an important feature on Justin’s wish list. The kick switch on the right side of the pedal, meanwhile, enables use of the fuzz independent of the wah. One last very cool and useful feature is a small control for bypass delay that allows you to extend or decrease the time that the effect rings out when you move the treadle to the heel position.
Even at the toppiest settings, the fuzz retained a flexible vintage feel and never became too harsh.
Heavy Package, Heavy Tones
Pedals are smaller and lighter in general these days, so the Chancellor Cry Baby’s well-built enclosure and spacious layout make it seem a little on the wide and heavy side. But for those of us who tend to get a bit excited or heavy handed (or heavy footed) while performing, the heft is reassuring. As shipped, the pedal’s adjustable treadle has a firm resistance that enhances control and ensures that there’s little chance of engaging the effect accidentally.
Plugging my ’84 Yamaha BB-3000S into the pedal with just the P-pickup engaged, I started my test by employing the fuzz exclusively. It’s based on Chancellor’s old Colorsound Tone Bender, and sounds great without any help from the wah. I tended to dial back the top end in the fuzz signal slightly to accommodate my aggressive approach and new steel strings, but I felt that many of the brighter fuzz settings would pair wonderfully with a bass strung with flatwounds. Even at the toppiest settings, the fuzz retained a flexible vintage feel and never became too harsh. As with any fuzz or distortion, going direct into a desk or interface can yield some harshness. I preferred the brighter settings through an amp simulator plug-in or an amp to soften the overtones ever so slightly.
New School Metal to Ol’ School Funk
When I think of bass wah, my mind goes to Tim Commerford and his work on the Audioslave albums. The Cry Baby-derived filter in this pedal shines in this type of heavy application. Even when I set the Q filter for a fairly narrow range to retain more warmth and low end, the pedal delivered an aggressive, rhythmic bite that inspired me to play in ways I normally would not. Opening up the Q filter, the J.C. wah delivered biting, aggressive tones that had plenty of attitude—even without the fuzz. The U.K. filter comes from a much different place than the wah filter. In U.K. filter mode I was usually moved to disengage the fuzz and explore the unique possibilities of shaping its very envelope filter-like sound with my foot rather than picking dynamics. The thicker low end and low-mid punch of the U.K. filter lent itself extremely well to both slap and rhythmic muted-pick playing.
The Verdict
There are lots of uncommon tone combinations in the Justin Chancellor Cry Baby pedal. And my informal panel of L.A.-based rock bass players that tested the pedal all remarked about how difficult it would have been to achieve the sounds in the Chancellor with a standard wah and fuzz pairing. Dunlop did more than just make a signature model pedal with a well-known player’s name on it. They assembled a set of features that many bass players didn’t even know they needed. And while the feature-rich design makes it expensive, the result is a pedal that’s bound to inspire.
Dunlop Justin Chancellor Cry Baby Wah Demo | First Look
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There’s so much that goes into bringing a pedal to life. Here’s a stash of DIY kits in various stages of completion at the author’s workshop.
Do you scoff at pedal prices? Here’s a deep look at the process and expenses of bringing a pedal to market.
You’ve come up with something special and inspiring on the breadboard and are ready to put the circuit into a pedal. How do you do that? You could hire a contractor, but let’s go full DIY.
You will need a CAD program to lay out the schematic and the subsequent circuit board. Once purchased, you need to learn to use the software to create a digital schematic and PC board. This process is not strictly about understanding the software—you also need to learn PCB layout practices as they relate to grounding, trace length, footprint design, and other common elements. While adhering to these, you also need to layout hardware, like potentiometers and toggles, in specific locations that allow them to appropriately mate with the enclosure that they will be stuffed into.
Now that we have our circuit laid out, we need to create specific file types to send off to a fabrication house so that they can open the files and manufacture the PC boards correctly to our design. Once we’ve submitted the files and they are approved, we wait with excitement, and dread, until they come in. Why dread? Well, we won’t know if the PCB is correctly populated with components that fit the package footprints and distribute power correctly, and if the audio sounds like what we designed on the breadboard, until they arrive. There may also be noise or other issues that we’ll need to track down before we can call the PCB finished. The first PCB that I ever designed came in looking exactly like the digital file, but did not work whatsoever.
After we’ve debugged the PCB to make it work, we get to a fun and frustrating step: putting the circuit into our enclosure. The enclosure part is fun because it’s the external, artistic side of the product where the builder’s creativity is first seen. An unappealing look could be the deciding factor for a consumer. I’m sure most of us have made a decision on a guitar or pedal before it’s even plugged in.
Trying to squeeze everything into an enclosure can become discouraging. The more hardware that’s affixed to the PCB, the more every measurement counts. This means every knob, toggle, footswitch, audio jack, and DC jack will play a role in making the PCB line up with the drill holes on the enclosure. That’s an aspect we haven’t even covered yet.
“An unappealing look could be the deciding factor for a consumer.”
Most of us in the industry have our enclosures manufactured at one-stop-shop locations. This is because having the facilities and tools to do drilling, powder coating, and UV or screen printing in-house is simply not feasible for most. Once we get a line on an enclosure manufacturer, we need to get them our drill measurements. This includes drill-hole diameters and locations related to each other, and from the edges of the enclosure. Once done, we need to get those measurements into digital form along with any artwork. We also need to pick a powdercoat color from the thousands of colors available. Not all powders adhere the same way to metal and not all powders work well with UV printing. So how do we take our drill measurements, powder color, and artwork to the next step? This is stomping grounds for Adobe Illustrator—another software program to purchase and learn. Crud!
After the enclosure files are sent off, made to spec, and received, we hold our breath and hope the populated PCB fits into the drilled enclosure. If it does, we dance. If it doesn’t, we break out the ruler and calipers and measure the places that we messed up. If the changes are to the PCB, we make them and order new samples. Same goes for the enclosure. While those revisions are being fabricated, we can focus on the packaging for the pedal. This is another fun part, and something that the customer will interact with upon receiving.
This is where I need to leave you. Before doing so, I’d like to point out that we haven’t gone into the remaining aspects of bringing a boutique pedal to life. There are still major considerations like product photos done in a photo area with a nice camera and edited with (more) software. Website construction to display that pedal along with copy and SEO, packaging materials, a label printer, and shipping software that talks to the website.
And at that, I’ve omitted a lot of small and medium steps in the breakdown of bringing a pedal to market. So I ask, are pedals really overpriced?
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 Bowie’s right-hand man.
Dunlop Mick Ronson Wah - MAIN by premierguitar
Mick Ronson—lead ripper, lieutenant, riff-dealer, and arranger in David Bowie’s Spiders from Mars—was such a cool amalgam of ’60s British guitar voices. He had Keith Richards’ sense of rhythm and hooks, Jimmy Page’s 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. It’s everywhere on early 1970s Bowie records—“Queen Bitch,” “Moonage Daydream,” and “Width of a Circle,” to name a few—and it put discernible fangs and venom in his playing. There are many such sounds in Dunlop’s excellent new tribute, the Mick Ronson Cry Baby.
Ronno was not a wah player in the “wocka-wocka” 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, “unique” from specimen to specimen. And without Ronno’s original on hand for comparison, it’s hard to know how close the tribute gets to nailing it. But there is an unmistakable mid focus that mirrors and invites Ronno’s biting phrasing—particularly in Bowie’s live recordings from the time. The new pedal’s 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 Wah’s 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 sounds—particularly when an angry gain device is situated upstream.
Legendary shredder Joe Satriani was the first ever guest on Wong Notes, so it makes sense that he’s the first returning sit-in with Cory Wong.
He teases a new song with Sammy Hagar, plus delves into the intricacies of Eddie Van Halen’s playing and why he can’t quite replicate it—every guitarist has their strengths and deficiencies, claims Satch. And believe it or not, Satriani didn’t figure standing in front of huge crowds to be one of his strengths when he was younger. Fate figured otherwise.
Satriani goes deep on one of his favorite tools, the Sustainiac pickup, and talks about how it’s defined his playing—just like his trademark sunglasses, even in dark rooms. (“Stupid idea, right?” he jokes.)
And young guitarists, listen up: Satriani has some wise words on the importance of rigorous practice while you’re budding on the instrument. The big takeaway? Learn. Your. Scales.
Paul Reed Smith also continues to evolve as a guitarist, and delivered a compelling take on Jeff Beck’s interpretation of “Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers” at the PRS 40th Anniversary Celebration during this year’s NAMM.
After 40 years at the helm of PRS Guitars, our columnist reflects on the nature of evolution in artistry—of all kinds.
Reflecting on four decades in business, I don’t find myself wishing I “knew then what I know now.” Instead, I’m grateful to still have the curiosity and environment to keep learning and to be in an art that has a nonstop learning curve. There’s a quote attributed to artist Kiki Smith that resonates deeply with me: “I can barely control my kitchen sink.” That simple truth has been a guiding principle in my life. We can’t control the timing of knowledge or discovery. If profound learning comes late in life, so be it. The important thing is to remain open to it when it arrives.
I look at what’s happened at PRS Guitars over the last 40 years with real pride. I love what we’ve built—not just in terms of instruments but in the culture of innovation and craftsmanship that defines our company. The guitar industry as a whole has evolved in extraordinary ways, and I’m fortunate to be part of a world filled with passionate, talented, and good-hearted people.
I love learning. It may sound odd, but there’s something almost spiritual about it. Learning isn’t constant; it comes in stages. Sometimes, there are long dry spells where you can even struggle to hold onto what you already know. Other times, learning is sporadic, with nuggets of understanding appearing here and there that are treasured for their poignancy. And then there are those remarkable moments when the proverbial floodgates open, and the lessons come so fast that you can barely keep up. I’ve heard songwriters and musicians describe this same pattern. Sometimes, no new songs emerge; sometimes, they trickle out one by one; and sometimes, they arrive so quickly it’s impossible to capture them all. I believe it’s the same for all creatives, including athletes, engineers, and everyone invested in their art.
Looking back over 40 years in business and a decade of preparation before that, I recognize these distinct phases of learning. Right now, I’m in one of those high-gain learning periods. I’ve taken on a teacher who is introducing me to concepts I never imagined, ideas I didn’t think anyone could explain—things I wasn’t even sure I was worthy of understanding. But when he calls and says, “Have you thought about this?” I lean in, eager to absorb, not just to learn something new for myself, but because I want him to feel his teaching is appreciated, making it more likely that the teaching continues.
“Learning isn’t just about accumulating knowledge; it’s about applying it, sharing it, and evolving because of it.”
Beyond structured teaching, learning also comes through experience, discovery, and problem solving. We recently got our hands on some old, magical guitars, vintage pickups, microphones, and mic preamps. These aren’t just relics; they’re windows into a deeper understanding of how things work and what the engineers who invented them knew. By studying the schematics of tube-mic preamps, we’re uncovering insights that directly influence how we wire guitar pickups and their electronics. It may seem like an unrelated field, but the many parallels in audio engineering are there if you look. Knowledge in one area has a ripple effect, unlocking new possibilities in another.
Even as I continue learning, I recognize that our entire team at PRS is on this journey with me. We have people whose sole job is to push the boundaries of what we understand about pickups, spending every day refining and applying that knowledge so that when you pick up a PRS guitar, it sounds better. More than 400 people work here, each contributing to the collective advancement of our craft. I am grateful to be surrounded by such a dedicated and smart team.
One of my favorite memories at PRS was at a time we were deep into investigating scale lengths on vintage guitars, and some unique pickup characteristics, when one of our engineering leaders walked into my office. He had just uncovered something astonishing and said, “You’re not going to believe this one.” That excitement and back-and-forth exchange of ideas is what keeps this work so rewarding.
As I reflect on my journey, I see that learning isn’t just about accumulating knowledge; it’s about applying it, sharing it, and evolving because of it. I get very excited when something we’ve learned ends up on a new product. Whether lessons come early or late, whether they arrive in waves or trickles, there is always good work to be done. And that is something I just adore.