PRS Pedal Reviews: Horsemeat Transparent Overdrive, Mary Cries Optical Compressor, and Wind Through the Trees Dual Analog Flanger
Paul Reed Smith may hate pedals, but his first foray into the realm delivers nothing but gems.
Inside each box containing a brand new PRS pedal, there’s a little fold-out card with a picture of Paul Reed Smith and a simple caption: “I hate pedals.” It’s not hard to imagine Smith’s indifference to stompboxes. PRS guitars are immaculately executed, ultra-playable instruments that reflect a focus on elemental interactions between fingers, strings, and fretboard. Indeed, for much of Paul Reed Smith’s career, stompboxes were probably held in the same regard as a broken toaster—a needless impediment to the communication of unadulterated tone.
Certainly, there is a visceral thrill to playing a guitar without effects—particularly one as nice as the average PRS. But while that’s true, stompboxes are, to many musicians, equally artful and thrilling vehicles of expression. And more than a few pedals have done their magic with a PRS guitar at the other end of a cable.
PRS’ three debut pedals—an optical compressor, overdrive, and dual flanger—do not feel like willy-nilly concessions to market pressures. In fact, in keeping with PRS tradition and ethos, these pedals seem selected and designed to offer minimal intrusion on the guitar/amp relationship if the player chooses that route. But they also have the bandwidth to be bold and even positively extroverted. Unsurprisingly, they are also built to a very high standard of quality and reflect an intense attention to detail.
PRS Horsemeat, Mary Cries & Wind Through the Trees Demos | First Look
Horsemeat Transparent Overdrive
Horsemeat isn’t a pretty name, but I’m guessing it alludes to making short work—mincemeat, if you will—of the Klon Centaur in a head-to-head battle. It’s hard to know exactly how much inspiration PRS derived from the Klon. PRS emphatically insists that Horsemeat is a very original design. And its circuit board is flipped, making it impossible to determine similarities in topology. It shares at least one important design element with the Klon, in the form of germanium clipping diodes. In a very general sense, germanium diodes tend to contribute soft-edged compression and a high capacity for distortion. But without knowing how other components in the circuit modify the performance of the diodes, you have to rely on your ears. And alongside my favorite Klon clone, Horsemeat sounds like a very different animal indeed.
Next to the Klon clone—which serves here as a familiar baseline rather than a direct comparison—the Horsemeat’s headroom and the leeway to work with it via picking dynamics or the flexible and practical control array is striking.
Though the Horsemeat can get aggressive, moving through the gain control’s range yields many nuanced shades. At maximum gain levels (and with relatively neutral treble, bass, and voice settings), the Horsemeat exhibits a lot of Marshall-plexi-like characteristics. There’s a distinct sense of size, a viscerally satisfying growl to the voice, and lots of top-end response that gives first- and second-string output heat and room to breathe. If you keep the output level at a reasonable setting, the compression in the distortion never feels oppressive or muddy. Instead, the pedal’s natural compression tends to lend cohesion. And even at advanced output level settings (and there is a lot of room to run in that respect), the distortion remains articulate.
“Moving through the gain control’s range really yielded shades of gain rather than heaps of extra crunch and aggression.”
Reducing gain reveals an impressive capacity for touch sensitivity. I can’t remember the last gain device I used that responded so well to variations in fingerpicking intensity. Guitar volume attenuation, too, yields rich and very pretty clean tones. And if you’re frustrated by your single-coil pickup’s tendency to bleed high end with volume reduction, you’ll be tickled by how readily the Horsemeat can replace some of that sparkle.
The bass and treble controls not only have a lot of range, but offer very colorful and varied tones within those areas. You can extract exceptionally bright tones out of the Horsemeat (in fact, extra-trebly settings rather than high-gain sounds struck me as the pedal’s most “extreme” settings). The voice control, which shapes frequency response in the clipping stage, helps you color the pedal’s tones in even more specific ways. Aggressively clockwise settings sound and feel hot and explosive, while the lower-to-middle third of its range have a sweetness that works with the pedal’s intrinsic dynamism to add soulful movement to chord melodies.
The Verdict
It’s hard to imagine an overdrive user that wouldn’t dig working with the Horsemeat. Players that prefer the squish in overdriven Fender tweed circuits might find the output a touch too even across frequencies. But I suspect a lot of players that love the more articulate side of a Marshall’s voice or really obsess over relative transparency will find a soulmate in this fine and varied drive machine.
Mary Cries Optical Compressor
Like the Horsemeat, the Mary Cries comp hints at a possible PRS design team directive: That a guitar’s fundamental voice should always be able to be its best, most exciting self. That’s no surprise for a company whose instruments are typically so rich and sonorous. But like the Universal Audio Teletronix LA-2A optical studio compressor that inspired it, the Mary Cries succeeds so well that it could probably make a busted kazoo shine.
“The Mary Cries could probably make a busted kazoo shine.”
If you ever use a real LA-2A in a studio, you’ll never forget the way it fattens, flatters, and warms a signal. You’ll also be struck by how economical the layout is. Apart from a compression ratio switch, there’s a peak reduction knob (typically just called the compression control) and a make-up gain or output gain control. Even a novice can competently use an LA-2A using ears and intuition.
Building a pedal-sized optical compressor circuit does not automatically make it the equivalent of an LA-2A. That verges on the impossible. But the Mary Cries excels at the same tasks: adding body and excitement to a signal and enabling quick adjustments without overthinking the process. The Mary Cries reduces the control scheme of an LA-2A to just the compression and output gain controls (which are the controls studio engineers use most). But just as a studio LA-2A can dramatically recast a sound with these simple interactions, the Mary Cries has the capacity to completely alter the feel and force of an instrument—beyond adding sustain and mitigating the effects of nasty peaks.
Even modest compression settings on the Mary Cries also have the effect of thickening and tightening low- and low-mid frequencies, giving the perception of extra mass and resonance without overpowering the top end. Mary Cries also colors trebles with bell-like sustain that tends to decay in almost perfect balance with the fatter low end. Players often use comps to achieve balance between frequency band extremes, but the Mary Cries’ cohesiveness, if you’ll permit a food analogy, has the feel of a sauce where every ingredient shines brilliantly.
This ability to gather and highlight fundamentals and overtones in a balanced whole does wonders for simple and extended chords. And these tone composites can purr and growl gorgeously depending on where you situate your output gain. Incidentally, Mary Cries is a magnificent clean boost when you kick up the output gain and reduce the compression to a minimum.
The Verdict
Mary Cries does a superb job of sounding and feeling transformative with very little fuss. It’s beautifully built, which manifests itself in the unit’s exceptionally quiet performance. At 219 bucks, it may seem expensive to players accustomed to other superficially simple comps. But I suspect even a cursory side-by-side play with many of these units would reveal much about Mary Cries’ nuance, elegance, and value.
Wind Through the Trees Dual Analog Flanger
Compared to its relatively streamlined siblings the Mary Cries and the Horsemeat, the analog, LFO-driven Wind Through the Trees flanger looks like a handful to manage. But for all the knobs that populate the Wind’s enclosure, it’s surprisingly intuitive.
Many contemporary, digitally attuned players will insist that a pedal this full of possibilities should come with presets. But the Wind Through the Trees’ analog interface is fluid and clear enough that you can move between varied settings with relative ease. That makes exploring the pedal’s myriad textures a flat-out joy—particularly because you can home in on very specific modulation profiles to suit a musical moment.
“One of the Wind Through the Trees greatest strengths is its ability to generate very mellow and hauntingly subliminal modulations.”
Flange is not an effect players typically associate with subtlety. But one of the Wind Through the Trees’ greatest strengths is its ability to generate very mellow and hauntingly subliminal modulations. These subtleties are made possible by the Wind Through the Trees very interactive, sensitive, and rangy controls. And, in my experience at least, the LFO mix, wet/dry output, and the very clearly labeled “added highs” controls are key to these textures.
Using these controls, you can, for instance, fashion a very understated modulation on LFO 1, blend in just a touch of twitchy, deep, high-rate modulation from LFO 2, add a touch of haze or brightness to taste with the added highs control, and then mix the sum into your signal with the very sensitive dry/wet knob. These are obviously not revolutionary means of control, but the way they work on the Wind Through the Trees feels surgical and gives you a real sense of command where some flangers feel monochromatic or purely chaotic.
But if chaos—or at least the surreal—is what you crave, the Wind Through the trees can deliver. For instance, very effective, weird-but-musical textures can be crafted by dialing closely adjacent but just offset rate and depth settings in the two LFOs, then setting their respective manual (or waveform delay) controls in opposition and cranking the regen to extra whooshy levels. Using the same scheme but mixing slow and fast rate settings in the two LFOs yields even stranger and more complex variations that combine hints of rotary speaker and ring modulation. And backgrounding these wild combinations by subtracting high end and using a dryer mix adds mysterious animation to chords and melody lines.
The Verdict
At about 350 bucks, the Wind Through the Trees is the most expensive of the new PRS pedals. And it’s understandable that some might perceive that price as high for an effect that’s, ostensibly, specialized. But the Wind Through the Trees proves how expansive a flanger can be when done right. There are lovely chorus-like sounds, plenty of intense vintage phase tones, and the deep but elegant and intuitive control set makes crafting complex modulations feel effortlessly creative.
Players accustomed to presets on a pedal with such broad capabilities may be bummed by their absence. And it’s true that moving between vastly different flange settings in the midst of a performance won’t always be a piece of cake. But in the context of song creation and in the studio, where you have the luxury of hunting for the perfect modulation color, Wind Through The Trees can be a potent musical companion.
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Learn how Adrian Belew's BEAT Tour came together to include Tony Levin, Danny Carey, and Steve Vai—plus King Crimson, Bowie, Zappa, Talking Heads, and more.
The BEAT Tour, featuring a superband of Adrian Belew, Tony Levin, Steve Vai, and Tool’s Danny Carey, begins on September 12 in San Jose, California, and continues into December, playing repertoire from King Crimson’s highly influential ’80s albums Discipline, Beat, and Three of a Perfect Pear. PG’s editorial director Ted Drozdowski sat down with Adrian in his home studio to talk about how these four great players came together, Adrian’s decades in Crimson, and Robert Fripp, Bowie, Zappa, Talking Heads, and more. Also, stay tuned for our exclusive Rig Rundown, coming soon!
Realistic and highly controllable Leslie sounds from an essentially easy-to-use stompbox. More control than some similar-priced models. Stereo ins and outs.
Drive control could be more responsive and, at higher settings, more subtle. Slow-fast switch’s multi-functionality can be initially confusing, so save the instructions.
$299
Keeley I Get Around Rotary Simulator
robertkeeley.com
A highly controllable, mid-priced rotary speaker simulator inspired by the Beach Boys that nails the essential character of a Leslie—in stereo.
There’s nothing cooler than using a Leslie cabinet in the studio, and few things worse than having to lug one to gigs. The famed Leslie 981, for example, weighs nearly 150 pounds. Enter the rotary speaker pedal—an easy-on-the-back alternative for players who are looking to conjure Leslie-derived guitar sounds employed on classic records by Hendrix, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, and others.
California Roller
There are a lot of good options for on-the-floor rotary pedals between $99 and $549. At $299, Keeley Electronics’ new I Get Around Rotary Simulator falls in the middle of the pack on pricing but has an array of functions that make it competitive with costlier examples. The I Get Around is part of a collaboration between Keeley, JHS Pedals, and Benson amps, dedicated to creating five limited-edition effects in tribute to the Beach Boys. I can’t recall many Beach Boys tracks with Leslie-style guitar, but Brian Wilson did use the effect on brother Carl’s guitar on 1965’s “You’re So Good to Me,” and a year later on the song “Pet Sounds.”
At 5" x 4" x 2", the I Get Around is a little larger than the average stompbox, but that’s necessary to accommodate the three big dials on top (blend, drive, and speed) as well as the on/off (which also works to select true bypass or buffered mode) and slow-fast switches, plus the stereo inputs and outputs. Using two amps in stereo makes the flutter and warble of the rotary sound more pronounced and immersive. It’s truly psychedelic. There’s also a toggle that adds a 4.5 dB mid-boost, which fattens and tightens the tone enough for me to simply want to leave that boost engaged all the time.
How I Got Around
I ran the I Get Around—powered by a 9V barrel connector at 130 mA— through a pair of Carr amps, playing a Gibson Les Paul Standard and a PRS SE Silver Sky, and blended the pedal with overdrive, fuzz, and delay as I experimented. I love the extra-large size of the speed control, which let me adjust the rate of simulated rotation at a whim with my shoe. The speed’s range is .06 Hz to .6 Hz, with 1 Hz being one revolution per second, and all the speed settings sound great and conjure the vibes you’d want from a Leslie, from velvet-painting dreamscapes to edgy, breathless Robert Ward- and David Gilmour-style psychedelic blues. Add a little delay and the sound becomes spongier and stranger, but too much, of course, can turn things to muck, as can an overbearing fuzz.
The drive control is a subtle overdrive that simulates a pushed 6550 and 12UA7 tube. At moderate amp volume, it doesn’t add much discernable grit until about 9 o’clock. Past 2 o’clock it rolled off enough top end to make my guitar sound less potent. But between those demarcations lies a very sweet spot for adding beef. The blend control starts being effective at about 8 o’clock, when the first hints of the rotary sound become a backdrop for the guitar’s voice, and then it's just a matter of turning up to taste—including cranking all the way clockwise to entirely eliminate your core guitar sound in favor of the rotary effect alone. For my taste, the best overall sounds were achieved with subtle-to-pronounced blends, between 9 o’clock and a bit past 2, that added rotary effect to my always-present basic guitar tone, thickening, supporting, and swirling behind it.
The slow-fast switch is all about drama. It allows toggling between two speed settings, and when it’s held down it stops the rotating speaker effect, which resumes when the switch is pressed again. The ramp rate can be customized as well. I like it slow, so the activation of the swirl is audible.
The Verdict
Keeley’s new I Get Around Rotary Simulator commands all the essential sounds you’d want from an actual Leslie. Unlike some pedals in its price range, it’s got stereo outs, which, to my thinking, are essential, because the rotary effect sounds best through guitar amps run in stereo. Also, the deep functionality beyond the basic adjustments of the three topside dials is attractive, adding more Leslie-like realism. There are cheaper alternatives, but to find competitive or better examples, you’ll need to reach deeper into your pockets.
Keeley I Get Around Rotary Simulator Pedal - Sweetwater Exclusive, Limited Release
I Get Around Rotary SimulatorOur columnist’s musings on honey bring him back to a forgotten little guitar company in Japanese history that didn’t last very long, but produced some interesting models.
One of the guys I work with is such an interesting fella. Dylan has an opinion on literally every topic, and I take amusement by asking him all sorts of probing questions.
For instance, he only wears t-shirts made from a certain blend (I’ll wear anything), and he likes smoke-infused whiskey (I drink mine straight), and he can go into great detail about an array of things like infusers, griddles, recording software, artificial intelligence, and the list just goes on and on. It seems like I, on the other hand, only have a certain amount of brain bandwidth and I don’t really ponder things of the material world, unless it’s guitar-related.
Recently, he was telling me about the rise of hot honey! He’s always telling me about recipes and how he uses it, but I have to say, anything that’s hot always turns me off. I used to love heat and spice and I could really eat anything. Yours truly even won a chicken-wing-eating contest (101 wings, baby!) with scorching hot sauce. I can even remember working at a restaurant back in the day, and the cooks were always challenging me with hot-sauce concoctions. Even the Jamaican dudes there couldn’t believe how I could inhale heat without a tear. Alas, all the years of trashing my body eventually caught up with me, and now if I eat anything that’s spicy, my belly and bowels just give up the ghost.
So, all this talk with Dylan about hot sauces and hot honey got me thinking about the old guitar brand, Honey. Looking back, I can’t believe I’ve never written about the little company before, but it was just a blip in guitar history—albeit a cool blip.
The story goes that in 1965 the Japanese guitar company Kawai had purchased the Teisco company. Teisco had its headquarters in Tokyo and made mostly electronics there. The wood production was done at a plant called Teisco Gen Gakki, which was located near Matsumoto City. Within a year or so, Kawai brought all-wood production to its own plant and Teisco Gen Gakki went idle.
Some former Teisco employees, who had mostly lost their jobs in this production shift, decided to make a go of their own at the guitar business. From this time, we see the brands Firstman, Idol, and Honey. The Honey Company made all sorts of products, including amps and guitars, and the company only sold in the Japanese market. Honey had a few wild designs, but mostly the guitars were copies of Rickenbacker, Gibson, and Höfner. But then there were these crazy one-off models, like this Honey Happening guitar from 1968. I’ve never seen another one and the only photos I can find online are all of this same guitar! One of my good Japanese friends gifted this to me.
The Happening takes its name from common terminology of the time, like, “It’s what’s happening,” meaning “hip” or “cool,” but this one is one of the coolest, with that elongated upper bout contrasting a super-short lower one. It has a Bigsby copy resting on the beveled-out section at the butt, which is another detail that’s rarely seen. If you check out the pickguard, there’s a cute little bumblebee there with “happening” written across in an old typeface. The headstock design is also noteworthy, featuring an extra-large truss-rod cover with two little diamond-shaped accents.
This solidbody is powered by two sizzling pickups that are Mosrite copies. It has a stinging sound—sorry—and sets up well with the adjustable bridge. Electronics round out with simple volume/tone knobs and a 3-way pickup selector switch. The only part I personally dislike on this guitar is the tuners, which can be finicky. But the guitar itself is surprisingly well-balanced and is a joy to play.
The Honey Company started business in early 1967 but was bankrupt in March of 1969. All Honey guitars and amps are extremely hard to find today, and if you have a good example, consider yourself one of the lucky ones. So instead of hot honey, let’s give a little props to a cool Honey.
1968 Honey Happening Guitar Demo
Frank’s friend Mike Dugan demos the Honey Happening 6-string.
Discover the SoloDallas Orbiter Fuzz, a meticulously crafted effects pedal designed to blend genuine vintage tones with user-friendly versatility.
Building upon the legacy of the 1966 Arbiter Fuzz, the Orbiter Fuzz enhances this classic circuit with advanced fine-tuning circuitry.
Key Features:
- Vintage Tone: The Orbiter Fuzz delivers smooth, musical fuzz tones with cutting sustain, offering immediate inspiration.
- Vintage Power: Our unique power circuit internally converts modern wall power to emulate the draw of a vintage carbon zinc battery.
- "Sweet Spot" Dial: An internal mini potentiometer allows you to dial in the perfect impedance response for your favorite pickups.
Versatile Controls:
- FUZZ: Adjusts the overall amount of fuzz by shaping the signal’s waveform from triangular to square as the knob is turned clockwise.
- GAIN: Increases the amount of signal entering the circuit, pushing it into harmonic clipping for smooth overdriven fuzz tones.
- BIAS: Modifies voltage to the matched pair of transistors, unleashing a wide range of vintage fuzz tones. Lower voltages produce spitty Black Keys responses, while higher voltages create smooth American Woman fuzz.
- Compact Design: Optimized for pedalboard space and easy integration with any standard pedal.
- Durable Construction: Crafted for reliability to withstand rigorous touring conditions.
Technical Specifications:
- Input Impedance: 500 kOhm
- Output Impedance: 10 kOhm
- Power Requirements: External 9V DC center-negative power supply
- Dimensions: 4.75" x 2.50" x 1.5"
- Weight: 0.8 lbs
- Bypass: True bypass
Design Details:
- Custom Artwork: Retro space-age design that pays homage to the Arbiter’s flying saucer enclosure.
- High-Quality Housing: Durable reinforced steel enclosure with a vintage metallic blue hammered finish.
Why You Need the SoloDallas Orbiter Fuzz Pedal:
A great fuzz pedal is essential for every guitarist and bassist. The Orbiter Fuzz offers the smooth, singing fuzz tone every musician dreams of, combining musicality with the reliability you need. If you’re looking for a pedal that excels in both sound and style, the Orbiter Fuzz is a must-have. Complete your search for the perfect fuzz pedal with the Orbiter Fuzz.
Arriving on Planet Earth 9/1/24! The Orbiter Fuzz will be available for purchase exclusively at SoloDallas.com starting September 1, 2024. The first 100 orders will include a SoloDallas swag pack guaranteed to impress. All SoloDallas orders ship within 24 hours.
Price: $249 USD.