A spacious reverb that spans low-key plate and demented, enormous cosmic reverb colors is a gas to use and easy to own.
Fun to use. Wide spectrum of sounds. Nice build quality at a great price
Can be hard to remove high harmonic content at all but the least trebly tone settings.
$129
Walrus Fundamental Ambient
walrusaudio.com
With variable voices, accessible prices ranging from 99 to 129 bucks, and slide controls that evoke old synths and vintage Jen pedals, Walrus Audio’s Fundamental series effects are functional, stylish, and dish a lot of awesome sounds at a nice price. The newest addition to the Fundamental series, the Ambient, will be good news for budget-constrained atmospheric musicians that otherwise settle for less-durable pedals at the market’s most inexpensive extremes. Some of those pedals are pretty cool, but the Walrus’ construction quality, sense of substance, and function—which is flat-out fun—make it a substantial alternative to those entry-level artifacts for a minor additional investment. It puts a super-wide range of sounds at your disposal, too.
Though few may use Ambient in subtle applications, it is capable of nice sounds on that spectrum. By using the lowest mix, tone, and decay settings, you can create an appealing facsimile of studio plate reverb that isn’t slathered in cloying top-end harmonics—particularly in the deep mode (which adds low octave) and the sustain-rich lush setting. At advanced mix and decay settings, the Ambient can sound colossal, alien, and unreal in ways any serious sound designer would be happy to explore. Haze mode, which uses sample rate reduction to create grainier, fractured, lo-fi pictures, is its own awesomely weird animal. You can fashion outsized dream-pop textures, or, at the most extreme level and mix settings, use the tone slider in crossfade fashion to conjure scuzzy VHS horror tones that, frankly, freaked me out as I was playing them.
Mesa/Boogie-built updates of two classic combos add boutique amp control and character to stellar vintage sounds.
Reimagines a classic small combo while adding modern clarity and punch to vintage tones. Power scaling is a plus for at-home and small-venue players.
Might not appeal to guitarists seeking a wider variety of sounds. Tremolo could use more range and is noisy at highest depth settings.
$1,799
Gibson Falcon 20
gibson.com
I love old science fiction and horror movies, and one of my favorites is The Fly, both the Vincent Price and Jeff Goldblum versions. The premise: A scientist developing a teleportation machine accidentally steps into its chamber with a fly inside, and their genetic material gets blended. Mayhem ensues.
Gibson Falcon 20
But imagine if that scientist was teleporting a vintage amp, and accidentally left a high-end boutique amplifier at the back of the chamber? The result might be the reimagined Gibson Falcons, which combine the pleasures of old-school tone with the clarity, quality, robust punch—and some of the functionality—of a modern boutique amp.
I love the sound of low-wattage Gibson and Valco amps from the early 1960s, and original Falcons and Skylarks—the latter model inspired the Falcon 5—are classic examples. They have lush midrange, fat, elegant bottom-end, snappy high-string response (with a bit of top-end roll-off), and they break up beautifully. It’s a sound that’s perfect for blues and other rusty-tractor-style roots and rock. Just ask Ry Cooder. But vintage examples can have a little fog in their voices, which amounts to a lack of clarity—especially with brisk, heavy-handed chording. I used to think eliminating that patina would kill the vibe that made those amps special, and I had largely ascribed that patina to aged components and speaker dust, until I heard a mothballed NOS Gibson GA-20 that had the very same qualities. Thankfully, that fog is gone in these two canny birds.
Let's Boogie
The Gibson brand hasn’t appeared on an amp since 2008, although in 2021 the company did acquire Mesa/Boogie. So, it seems only natural that Mesa’s founder Randall Smith and R&D director Doug West would be involved in resurrecting these avians, which are built in Mesa’s Petaluma, California, shop.
The only outward signs of Boogie in these amps’ bloodstreams is the power-scaling toggles on the control panels and the monitor and 4-ohm outs on the rear panels. The Falcon 20 also scales between 1, 5, or 12 watts (or 2, 6, or 15 watts, with 6L6 tubes rather than the 6V6s in our test model), and the Falcon 5 can flip from 3 to 7 watts with its 6V6s, or 4 to 8 with 6L6 replacements. The 20 has a 12" Jensen Blackbird alnico speaker, while the 5 has a 10" Blackbird. They are serious sound generators.
While power-scaling has become common, Smith was a pioneer. “I really enjoyed the Falcon project, as it harkened back to my early days in the late ’60s as a repairman— becoming the first boutique amp builder before that category existed,” Smith told me, when queried about the reissues. “I could try out radical ideas on a small scale, in response to what players were seeking, like separating gain and distortion from playing loudness, and providing switchable power levels to fit different venues.”
Playing through both amps with a Les Paul, a Flying V, a PRS SE Silver Sky, and a custom Zuzu with coil-splitting, it readily became apparent that power-scaling wasn’t Smith and West's only renovation here. With each instrument, notes and chords were tightly focused—even with my raucous Tone Bender clone. Overtones hung in the air, the mids and lows were fat and present (even with the Falcon 5) with just the right amount of sag, and that light, distant fog that colors the originals was supplanted by clean, well-defined tones—all without sacrificing the essence of the classic sound I associate with old, small Gibson combos. The adjectives punchy, clear, beefy, airy, and responsive filled my head every time I plugged in.
The Gauntlet
To challenge these Falcons, I played them against character on gigs, bringing the 20 to a quiet room and the 5 for a loud rock set. For the low volume gig, I left the 20’s power full and turned down the volume. Not an iota of its character was diminished. And the 5 was a barking wonder, cranked up to noon, with its humble 10" speaker maintaining clarity and focus and characterful tones despite the incursions of my drive, fuzz, delay, and modulation pedals—proving it’s far more than a practice amp. I’d play either Falcon anywhere, without reservations. And at home, the amps managed to maintain their essential personalities at all power settings.
Smith offers an explanation: “What I did in resurrecting the Falcons was retain parts of the circuit that contributed to its character while getting creative with my bag of experience to make it a hot rod instead of a reproduction. Doug and I auditioned different capacitors and resistors to get vintage characteristics, but the power and output transformers were custom-designed and refined”—the key to the amps’ sounding both old and new at once.
There’s no mystery to the Falcon’s controls. The 5 is dirt simple, just like original Skylarks. There are two inputs, power and standby toggles, and volume, tone, and reverb dials. On the 20, there’s all of that plus depth and frequency dials for the tremolo, and an included on/off pedal for tremolo and reverb.
The tremolo on the Falcon 20 is a bit too subtle for my taste, but it’s a sore spot for me with the originals, too. If I want to use an effect, I really want to hear it, and unless the depth control is close to noon and higher, it's not terribly effective on the Falcon. That said, there are pleasing, colorful tremolo textures to be found in the upper half of the depth’s range, particularly with frequency settings ranging from 10 o’clock to near maximum. This tremolo isn’t about extremes; it's about mood and vibe. Unfortunately, at high depth settings—say, after 5 o’clock—the pulses get noisy. That’s likely because the tremolo is part of the power section. And that’s an unfortunate trait of vintage examples, too.
The spring reverb on both Falcons, however, is perfect and perfectly vintage to my ears. It’s comparable to that on my own ’64 Supro Tremo-Verb, but with a wider range and glorious depth. It made my guitar sound warm and glowing, or, when I wanted to crank the reverb up, like a flashback from the original psychedelic era or a ’60s Chess session. It sounds almost otherworldly at maximum. I basked in its warmth and weirdness. Smith, again, shares his strategy: “The original Falcons were the very first guitar amps to incorporate reverb and did it in a way that we consider to be unconventional now. One could literally turn up the reverb while keeping the dry guitar signal completely off. But it was new technology at the time, which later evolved. I retained the original input, tremolo, and power amp circuitry, but the reverb was, again, more of a hot-rod approach.”
The Verdict
These small, easy-to-lift combos are loud, clear, and bold, and dialing in great sounds is easy. Dressed up in cream bronco vinyl and plastic handles showing the Gibson name inside them, they transmit old-school vibe as they provide updated takes on classic tones. They‘re also a cheaper, more efficient option than actual vintage Skylarks or Falcons, which fetch high prices these days. For their blend of modern efficiency and reliability, and classic tones, these birds certainly soar.
Gibson Amps Return! Falcon 5 & Falcon 20 Demos | First Look
A medium-high-gain overdrive that gives you room to move between fat boost tones and fuzzier fare.
A powerfully heavy but also surprisingly subtle and versatile distortion pedal. Great dynamics and articulation.
Some noise at higher gain settings.
$129
EarthQuaker Devices Zoar
earthquakerdevices.com
What’s in a name? In dubbing their latest “Zoar,” maybe the pedal pushers from Akron, Ohio, are referencing the falcon from Masters of the Universe. More likely, they are referring to the communal village in Ohio named for the Biblical hamlet spared during the Old Testament razing of Sodom and Gomorrah. Maybe it’s just EarthQuaker Devices’ idea of the kind of ominous name a chunky medium-high-gain distortion should have. The latter scenario isn’t out of the question. It becomes clear pretty quickly that the name totally suits this teal, hammer-finished machine. Yet the Zoar is more than a tool for aggression. It’s a dynamic device that straddles both sides of the distortion/fuzz fence and achieves great touch sensitivity via a discrete transistor-based circuit.
Heavy Hitter
The Zoar is housed in EQD’s standard enclosure and built around a 6-control layout, which has become a familiar sight on the company’s pedals. Here, they control gain, weight, level, bass, middle, and treble. Input and output jacks flank the center-negative 9V input on the crown of the pedal, and there’s a red LED indicator alongside the silent-action footswitch. Most of the controls are self-explanatory, save, perhaps, for weight, which governs the low-end content in the distortion signal. How you set it up plays a big part in shaping the pedal’s overall voice. So, too, does the traditional-looking 3-band EQ which EarthQuaker configured to feel and respond more like a traditional low-pass filter.
The Zoar can be powered by anything from 9V up to 18V DC, and higher voltages enhance the pedal’s dynamics, articulation, and frequency range. The non-latching, relay-based, true-bypass footswitch—called a “flexi-switch” by EQD—enables either standard on/off operation with a single tap or momentary operation when you press and hold.
Rhymes with Roar
Unlike some distortion pedals—and fuzzes in particular—that are nearly all-or-nothing, the Zoar’s gain knob has a gradual curve that yields many subtler drive colors. From around 3 o’clock to maximum, it’s pretty thick and heavy, and very fuzz-like at the highest settings. This is where the “Audio Grinder” part of the pedal’s name makes the most sense, and where the meanest, dirtiest sounds live. It’s great for sludgy chord work or foundation-rumbling riffing. It’s a heavy tone for sure, but one I can imagine using across indie styles, too.
There is an impressive plurality among the pedal’s tones, thanks to the wide-ranging EQ and the girth delivered by the weight knob. From razory and tight to flabby and bovine, there’s an entire world of high-gain, fuzzy distortion available. The Zoar’s noise levels aren’t bad overall, but noise becomes significant in silent passages if you have the gain maxed.
Reduce the gain, tweak the other controls, and the Zoar becomes appealingly nuanced. Where so many distortion and fuzz pedals are virtually unusable with their gain controls at the minimum, the Zoar behaves a lot like a good low-gain overdrive or a fat, semi-clean boost. Set this way, it lends lots of texture and liveliness to the tone as well as just a little hair that stops short of outright distortion as most of us imagine it. At 11 o’clock, you’ll hear a bit more clipping that’s more within the realm of overdrive than distortion, but you can construct many variations on that, thanks to the bass, middle, treble, and weight controls. More variation still is available via use of the 18V power option. It increases clarity and crispness as well as more detail and greater range in the already respectable touch sensitivity, which might make this mode many players’ favorite powering option.
The Verdict
sparkle as it does to generate all-out distortion and fuzzy textures. There’s a little noise with the gain knob at full tilt, but few medium-high-gain drives escape that fate, and the tones are sweet enough that you probably won’t notice anyway.
Bohlinger Tries the EarthQuaker Devices Zoar | First Look
EarthQuaker Devices Zoar Dynamic Audio Grinder Distortion Pedal
Zoar Dynamic Audio GrinderThe updated loop pedal from Mooer is a user-friendly blast at a budget price.
Easy to use. Intuitive controls and layout. Auto record mode is handy.
Multiple layers can get muddy.
Mooer Micro Looper II
mooeraudio.com
Within 5 minutes of plugging in Mooer’s Micro Looper II, the updated model of the company’s spartan Micro Looper, I knew everything there was to know about it. That’s thanks in part to a simple, smart control suite that eschews digital displays—the direction in which many loopers seem to be moving—in favor of a central rotary dial that navigates between the 16 available save slots in three banks, which are accessed via a 3-way toggle. A small level knob lets you simmer loops more quietly, or crank them with a 6 dB boost. Another mini knob controls the threshold at which the auto record function is engaged. Auto record is toggled on and off via the rubber LED in the pedal’s center that also tells you whether you’re in record, playback, or stop mode, depending on its color and pattern. The included manual did a fine job articulating all of these parameters.
Each loop offers up to 10 minutes recording time and unlimited layering in each loop slot, and I put those parameters to the test with no disruptive issues or glitches. Things got a wee bit foggy once more than four layers of guitar were introduced. But my Dr. Z’s chiming cleans were looped in perpetuity through the 2x10 speakers with what felt like very little loss of fidelity. And the Looper II’s auto record function worked seamlessly at all stops on the threshold spectrum. It’s a very welcome feature to have on hand, and I found myself opting for it as a quick fix for microscopic but annoying timing issues. For the price, it doesn’t get much better than this.
Small Supro-inspired simplicity leads to growling, raunchy, bad-attitude drive tones and lead sounds with venom.
Dynamically responsive. Sounds a lot like a little amp made enormous when used with bigger amplifiers. Great build quality.
Some players won’t dig the midrange focus here.
$215
Skreddy Skunk
skreddypedals.com
Most of the pedals I play that are built by Skreddy’s Marc Ahlfs feel like the product of a lot of deep listening and diligent research. They always seem to go a layer deeper—more detail, more authentic, and just more moving when you plug in and play loud. That certainly goes for the new Skunk Drive Model 1606, a simple, straight-ahead stomp designed to add vintage small-Supro sounds and dynamics to a player’s crayon box. Skunk nails a sort of sound, feel, and responsiveness that strongly evokes Supros and other low-wattage classics. And it can transform the sound of a high-headroom amp while retaining a very organic sense of touch.
Airship Inspirations
If you’re familiar with Skreddy’s work, you’ll know Marc Ahlfs has an affinity for old-school stomps and the players that made them famous. A few of his fuzzes are revered by the David Gilmour cult. His Little Miss Sunshine is as enveloping as any Phase 90-inspired pedal you’ll ever play. And his love of Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin, among others, inspires fantastic Fuzz Face- and Tone Bender-style stomps that effectively enhance and expand upon the potential of those platforms. The Skunk is, at least in part, another product of Ahlfs’ affinity for Jimmy Page—specifically Pagey’s dalliance with a Supro, and, quite probably, a Solo Tone Bender, on Led Zeppelin I. To many Zep’ fans (this author included), those tones are at least tied for Pagey’s most-bitchin’-ever sounds. There are many such textures hiding in the Skunk. But Zep’ tones are not the whole ball of wax here.
As is typical for a Skreddy pedal, the Skunk, which is fitted into a pretty gold-finished 1590B enclosure, is a tidy piece of pedal manufacturing. The circuit is made up of a fairly modest number of components, but they are arranged on a through-hole board with plenty of space between them. Skreddy will repair any pedal that malfunctions due to defects for three years. The build quality I see here suggests that’s unlikely. But if it happens, servicing the pedal should be no sweat.
Rippin’ with Le Pew
For most of the time I spent with the Skunk, I had it hooked up to an old black-panel Fender Vibrolux Reverb. I mention this because my Vibrolux is an especially “surfy” specimen. It’s clean and sparkly, the reverb is deep and splashy, and the treble will rip your head off if you’re not careful. In many respects, it’s the antithesis of the kind of amp the Skunk is built to approximate. And what impresses in this configuration is the Skunk’s ability to transform the sound and feel of an amp like my Vibrolux without sounding or feeling like you splashed a cheap coat of paint over your direct tone. Most overdriven sounds have an organic, natural aggression. And though the pedal creates a vivid illusion of a small amp, which flips the character of your amp completely, in a dynamic sense it feels seamlessly integrated with the amplifier on the receiving end. The Skunk doesn’t seem to rob the amp of its intrinsic energy, like some overdrives will—even though it adds a pretty squishy, almost tweed-like helping of compression to the base tone. It retains responsiveness to guitar volume attenuation and can essentially approximate the clean bypassed sound of the amp (save for loss of a little top-end zing) with a just-right reduction in instrument volume. The Skunk excels at clean-boost tasks, too, with the gain low and the output volume up high, adding a little midrange focus, but never clouding over an amp’s essence. At the other end of the gain range, the Skunk flirts with near-fuzz sounds that brim with delectable raunch.
”Though the pedal creates a vivid illusion of a small amp, which flips the character of your amp completely, in a dynamic sense it feels seamlessly integrated with the amplifier on the receiving end.“
The pedal’s midrange emphasis won’t float everyone’s boat. Depending on the Skunk’s settings, and the pickups driving it, it can sound a bit honky and filtered, not unlike a cocked wah at some settings. (Check out “Communication Breakdown” for reference to hear what I’m talking about.) Depending on your affinity for these types of colors, the tone profile could sound narrow at first. But the midrange emphasis does not obscure clarity. The first and second strings snap and pop with authority and definition that adds heat to leads, and you hear very nice balance between strings in chording situations. Incidentally, situating a Tone Bender fuzz before the Skunk, in true Led Zeppelin I style, generates amazing nastiness. Again, the midrange focus in these sounds won’t be everyone’s idea of fuzz perfection, but they will stand out in a mix like Wilt Chamberlain in a third-grade-class picture. Personally, they left me giddy.
The Verdict
Even though it delivers the surprise of awesome clean-boost tones. It’s not transparent, and it will shift the voice of a louder amp noticeably and profoundly. But in the process, it really does create the picture of a little amp writ large. How this sound aligns with your tone ideals will be very personal, and you should consider my tone score here as very subjective. If you dig Jimmy Page, Mick Ronson, and other sprouts from the glam, punk, and raw, electric Mississippi blues vines, you’ll find a lot to love here. But any guitarist keen to carve out a distinct, visceral place in an ensemble or mix could well find the Skreddy Skunk invaluable.