 | Download 13 Audio Examples Zip file contains 13 MP3 files and description document |
Turns out that what lay inside was a Marshall JMD102, the latest in hybrid amp technology from the most iconic amp builder in the history of loud. The JMD102 is a 2x12 100-watt combo from Marshall's new JMD:1 line that also includes a 100-watt full stack, 50-watt half stack, and 50-watt 1x12 combo.
Future and Past Come Together
Under 28" wide, 21" tall, and only 10" deep, this 2x12 100-watt all-in-one amp is only slightly larger than many 1x12" combos. Powered by four EL34 valves (I'm going with the British term since this is a British amp), it has plenty of raw analog muscle, which the Eminence AX75 speakers handle exceedingly well. While Marshall may have taken it on the chin when they went down market and started dabbling with solid-state circuits, they are still kings when it comes to focused output derived from valve power, and this amp shows off that legacy. What may give pause to some Marshall and valve power purists is the JMD:1's digital preamp and onboard effects. The digital preamp is Marshall's foray into amp modeling, and to make sure they got it right, they collaborated with Swedish DSP company Soft Tube, relying on their "Natural Harmonic Technology" for the 16 different digital preamps found in the JMD:1 series. Given the many classic Marshall tones throughout the company's history, adding simulations to any amp with the Marshall brand had to be daunting prospect, so they were wise to leave the simulations to experts in the field via Soft Tube while Marshall focused on what it does best—loud, proud, classic valve power and tone.
The sixteen preamps included in the JMD:1 series are, of course, based primarily on classic Marshall amps, including the 1959 Plexi, the holy grail of rock JCM800, and more recent models like the JVM series and Haze 40. A few Marshall's stompboxes and their MIDI-controlled rackmount digital preamp are also represented.
Controlling the Beast
The preamps are accessed from a single knob that breaks down the tonal palette into four categories: Clean, Crunch, Overdrive, and Lead. Marshall's standard set of controls for EQ and volume all respond differently based on the selected preset. This makes sense since, for example, the EQ knobs of a Marshall 1974 behave differently than the EQ controls on a JMP-1. Likewise for gain staging. So dialing up a preamp setting is like dialing up an amp, since all the relevant knobs will behave accordingly. The JMD:1 manual does an excellent job of explaining this along with the gain staging and signal path of each preamp setting.
The amp's front panel includes five LED push-button switches to store four amp presets. The fifth button (technically the first on the panel) puts the amp in manual mode (what you see is what you get). While only four amp presets and one manual setting are available from the front panel, there are 28 different amp presets available—seven banks containing four presets each. These are accessed using the included 6-way foot controller and are also available via MIDI. The foot controller is smartly designed and easy to use. LEDs tell you what preset you are on. The first four footswitches call up the presets of the current bank, and the two remaining footswitches allow you to increment/decrement through the seven available banks. Again, LEDs on the controller tell you what bank you are currently in. If for some reason you don't plan on using multiple banks of amp presets, you can change the foot controller to act as a universal controller for the amp. This mode, called Switch Mode, lets you assign each footswitch to a button on the amp's panel. So, for example, you can use three switches for different preamp tones such as clean, distortion, and lead, and use the remaining three to manage the JMD1's onboard effects and an external FX loop. Kudos to whoever thought of that!
The back panel of the JMD:1 has everything you'd expect from an amp, with some feature implementations worth noting. The FX Loop has a switch for +4/-10 dbv I/O, and has a Wet/ Dry knob. It can also be turned on and off via the amp's front panel of, if assigned, the foot controller. The emulated speaker line out uses a balanced XLR connection, and Headphone out, Line in, and Preamp out are also available via 1/4" jacks.
Okay, I'm dying to get to the tone, but, for the sake of due diligence, I need to mention that the amp has the standard Marshall controls, Gain, followed by EQ (Treble, Middle, Bass), followed by preamp volume, followed by a bunch of knobs and buttons for the effects—more on that later—followed by the standard Marshall Master Controls Presence and Master Volume. Got it? Let’s move on to the good stuff.
Click here for a larger image of the front panel
How It Sounds
Okay, let’s talk TONE, in capitals, for a reason. I am usually unlucky in the factory preset department, and historically have had to program my own patches to make use of whatever preset-enabled gear I am using. The JMD:1's factory presets are, however, quite useful. The most I had to do was turn the effects off since I was enthralled with the amp tone and not ready to play with mods and delays. The overdrive and distortion tones are Marshall all the way. Big, fat, excellent beef on the bottom and warm, bright highs on the top. The tone sounds much bigger than the physical size of the amp—not just loud, but big. No doubt having two 12" speakers helps here—so much so that I find it hard to go back to the 1 x 12s I am accustomed to lugging around with me. Saturation on the heavy distortion settings is both heavenly and wicked at the same time with very accessible feedback. In all the overdrive/distortion settings I played through, the amp just plain delivers. Sustain was excellent, and it responded naturally to the standard assortment of playing techniques. Every sound I wanted my guitar to make was transmitted accurately at any volume level I could get away with.
With that said, there is an inherent tightness in the sound. Is that a byproduct of digital simulation? Possibly. It wasn't necessarily bad, and the fact that I expected it may be a byproduct of being accustomed to tube amps that can be inherently unforgiving and raw when cranked, and tepid when turned down. Perhaps the relatively compact size and partially closed cabinet had something to do with it. At low, bedroom levels, the digital preamps offer as much distortion as you can take. And at bad neighbor volumes, the tightness was perhaps a bonus, as the tone remained highly defined and highly focused as opposed to just another loud overdriven valve amp. In addition, each distortion preamp retained its character at all volume levels.
Marshall's JCM800 has always been a favorite of mine, and more than any other Marshall amp, it exemplifies the Marshall overdrive sound. So it's no surprise that the JCM 800 model on this preamp was likewise my favorite. At high-gain settings especially, it is a very accurate representation of that classic amp. And the JCM2000 Dual Super Lead model accurately recreated classic tones from Gary Moore and Robin Trower with just a few tweaks to gain and EQ. Another accurate repro was the JVM410H preamp model, which took little effort to coax out some heavy metal tones a la Slash.
I could go on about the tone of the overdrive and distortion settings, but the amp has clean tones as well. Prattling on about clean tones on a Marshall feels a bit like talking about reverse gear on a Porsche, but they’re there for a reason. The pure clean tones had a definite Class A/B vibe to them, and some of the clean presets sounded a tad compressed. Musical but somewhat neutral, with super clean settings, the tone was just sort of there. Ah, but dial in a bit of crunch by either changing preamp presets (I chose the Dual Super Lead 100) or bringing up the preamp gain (stick with the DSL100), and a much needed dose of Class A character enters the picture, like Tom Joad in a John Ford film. No longer overly pristine and polite, the amp sounded man-made again—its anger in check, its soulful lament in heart wrenching bloom. Americana tones from a British bastard with a high brow Swedish education. Frankly, it's the first time I enjoyed playing a Marshall clean longer than five minutes (though I’ve never owned a Plexi). It also reminds me that at high gain settings, amps with digital preamp stages do not clean up as nicely via your guitar's volume knob compared to their all analog counterparts. Luckily there are enough clean tone models to switch over to.
The Effect of FX
Okay, so what are all those flashing red LEDs doing on a Marshall amp anyway? Face it, effects like modulation and delay are now standard fare on amps. Their practicality can be debated endlessly, and while no one buys a guitar amp because they like the delay, hey, they're here, we may as well use them. The usefulness of onboard effects often comes down to how easy it is to turn them off, and the JMD:1's well-designed footswitch succeeds in this regard.
The JMD:1's effects are based on Marshall stompboxes and include Delay, Modulation, and Reverb. The Reverb is what you'd expect on a modern amp—one knob, no springs. Of the four delays to choose from—Hi-Fi (pure digital delay), Analog, Tape, and Multi—the Analog and Hi-Fi were the best of the bunch. The Multi is a two-tap delay line with analog-style decay—I find digital delay repeats on multi-taps a la The Edge far more useful. The delay controls consist of a Delay Level knob, and an on/off switch that can be used for tap tempo, and can be assigned to a footswitch when the foot controller is in Switch Mode. Delay types, like the modulation types, are selected using the Delay or Mod Adjust knob respectively.
The four mod effects are Chorus, Phaser, Flanger, and Tremolo. Modulation controls consist of a Mod Depth knob and an on/off switch that can also be assigned to a footswitch. The limited access to effects parameters means you're at the mercy of the factory's tastes. The Chorus is totally usable, though I would go with a stompbox over the JMD:1's Phaser and Flanger. The Tremolo's speed has limited adjustment via the Mod Adjust knob, which hamstrings its usefulness. Turning the Mod Adjust knob hard left engages the noise gate, the threshold of which is controlled by the Mod Depth knob. The attack and release settings for the JMD:1's gate are hard-wired at the factory and very well done. So much so that I found myself using the gate over any mod effects—I have loads of pedals strewn across the floor anyway. This amp has me convinced that any amp offering heavy distortion should include a proper gate—the two go hand in hand.
The Verdict
With 16 different digital preamps to choose from, and the amp's primary controls adapting to the amps those preamps emulate, Marshall's JMD:1 series guarantees something for everybody. And likewise, you will probably find tones that don't satisfy your appetite. That's variety for you. The amplifier feels well made and thoughtfully engineered. Marshall may rattle a few rusty cages as they evolve into a modern amp company using cutting edge technology. Blame that on their legacy, I suppose. Fortunately, with the JMD:1 series, they have done a fine job blending modern with vintage for another great sounding amp with the iconic gold faceplate and white, cursive logo.
Buy if...
you need a loud versatile amp with great distortion and overdrive tones
Skip if...
you're a purist at heart and digital still doesn't do it for you, or you primarily use clean tones.
Rating...
Street $1199 - Marshall - marshallamps.com |
LR Baggs Session DI Acoustic Guitar Preamp / DI
Inspired by the LR Baggs Handcrafted Video Sessions and our experience in some of Nashville’s great studios, the Session Acoustic DI brings our signature studio sound to your live rig. The Session DI enhances your acoustic pickup and imparts the rich sonic character that you’d expect from an experienced audio engineer using some of the world’s finest studio gear. We’ve captured this studio magic and put it into a compact, easy-to-use DI that will transform your live sound.
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.
