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.
Excellent interface design enables this evolutionary unit to go toe-to-toe with multi-modeler titans.
Exceptional, and exceptionally intuitive, interface. Road-worthy build. Easy for modeler newbies to get started.
Many models exhibit trebly, fizzy tendencies. No amp capture capability. Less expansive user community than competition.
$1,699
Fender Tone Master Pro
fender.com
There are a few ways to think about powerful multi-modelers like the Fender Tone Master Pro. On one hand, they address 21st-century music industry realities—namely that everyone from wedding bands to high-profile touring acts can scarcely afford the techs and transport required to maintain and move heaps of gear. They are a natural fit for home recording, enabling a lot of players to make huge sounds in small spaces. Philosophically speaking, they also reflect the state—and possibilities—of a super-postmodern art moment, where every sound can be accessed, ingested, inhaled, scrambled, and reassembled in any way a musician’s whims and processing power may take them.
On the other hand, some find the notion of, say, playing, a virtual Marshall Super Lead without a 4x12 pushing air disorienting—the musical equivalent of walking the uncanny valley. Others find modelers less conducive to chance discoveries. On this latter count, though, Fender’s Tone Master Pro is a measurable step in the right direction. From the time you power up the unit and start tinkering with its engaging, intuitive touch screen, the Tone Master Pro reveals a knack for illuminating both well-trodden musical paths and unexpected detours with fluid facility. It’s satisfying to use in ways that could tempt even the most resolute analog devotee.
Applause for the Interface
The TMP’s touch screen user interface (and the way it dovetails with hardware elements like the rotary footswitches) is a huge part of its appeal. Lest you dismiss the well-executed representations of analog gear as merely “cute,” bear in mind that legions of modern engineers consider such skeuomorphic depictions of recording gear faster and easier to use in studio environments. That’s certainly the case here. The Pro’s interface facilitates casual experimentation and complex routing alike. It looks sharp. It’s also functional and flat-out fun—no small factor when courting reluctant and first-time modeler adopters. In theory, though, experienced users should find a lot to like in this thoughtfully executed touch screen.
The I/O array is practical and comparable to most competing modelers. There’s an option for two stereo effects loops or four mono effects loops, which opens up more possibilities via integration of your own favorite effects. As you’d expect, there are two stereo outs (one is fitted with XLR and ¼" jacks,) MIDI I/O, USB (for firmware updates), and more.
“The interface is functional and flat-out fun—no small factor when courting reluctant and first-time modeler adopters.”
The TMP does have some shortcomings compared to the competition. Most notably, you cannot capture amp sounds as you can with some other modelers in the TMP’s class. That also limits the breadth of sounds an extended user community can create and share.
Sounds Sourced from a Deep Well
I usually hear modelers as toppy and sometimes a bit woofy compared to real amp equivalents. (I’m also generally shocked by how many players claim modelers sound exactly the same as comparable amp rigs, but vive la differénce!) Most users find EQ fixes for these issues, and some of those solutions—high-end attenuation, primarily—were effective here. Still, I think it’s helpful to consider modeler sounds in context of the recorded environment. Check out the audio clip from the online version of this review. It contrasts a rhythm-and-lead loop played via a Tone Master Pro’s ’65 Deluxe Reverb model—miked with a virtual Shure SM57, on axis, at the speaker cap’s edge and sent straight into a UA Apollo Twin—with a real tube-driven ’65 Deluxe Reverb reissue miked with a real SM57 in precisely the same manner. Can you pick which is which? This is far from an airtight experiment. Heck, two real Deluxe Reverbs can sound pretty different. I hear minor differences in the two clips and, in isolation, prefer the airier, less-compressed sound of the real deal. But could I tell the difference in a mix with bass, drums, guitar, and organ? I’m not so sure. I also doubt I would scrap an inspired take from the Tone Master Pro in favor of a crappier one from an all-analog rig. These are real questions I might ask in a fast-moving recording session. Typically, the answer is “pick the take that suits the song, mood, and arrangement,” rather than “let’s use the less inspired take that, arguably, sounds 6 percent more like a vintage Deluxe.” Your opinions and process may differ.
High-gain sounds, too, are represented in plentitude. Predictably, perhaps, the top-end spikiness I heard in clean tones was more pronounced in these settings. The TMP’s EQ tools, including virtual mic placement, can make a pronounced difference in lending gentler contours to these frequencies. And again, in the context of a recorded mix, these sounds are likely to pass more than a few blindfold tests.
The Verdict
Big-ticket modelers tend to incite more tribalism and snobbery than almost any other guitar equipment—which is saying a lot. But while one could make valid gripes about any of these platforms, a certain truth that holds for any piece of musical gear applies here: No two players, nor their music predilections, needs, creative urges, or life realities, are alike. The Tone Master Pro’s approachability and thoughtful interface design make it well-suited to players that will benefit from quick integration, fast workflow, and a graphic interface that employs lucid representations of familiar analog equipment.
The Tone Master Pro often sounds authentic and inspiring, as do many of its competitors. Are any of them light years beyond each other in fidelity, or bound to spoil an otherwise stirring mix, song, or performance? That depends on the music you make, and the emphasis you place on tone purity. At the time of this writing, The Tone Master Pro costs the same $1,699 that you will spend for a Neural Quad Cortex or Line 6 Helix, and 100 bucks more than a Kemper Profiler. If you find the sound from a certain modeler appreciably superior and indispensable, find significant value in a more mature user community that has already generated oodles of tradable presets, or find the lack of an amp capture function a deal-breaker, you might ask how much time you’ll save using Fender’s exceptional workflow and interface—and how much real creativity that might spark. For many players for whom fluid creation is as important as tone nuance, or for whom modeling is a new experience, the Tone Master Pro’s intuitive operation could tip the scales in Fender’s favor.
Fender Tone Master Pro Demo | First Look
The heavy pedal that became famous at the feet of Jonny Greenwood delivers surprises with colors that range from explosive to doomy, and yes—shreddy.
Top U.K.-build quality. Surprising range of unique distortion colors. Interesting interactions between EQ controls.
Could be too dark for shredders who rely on sizzling top end.
$249
Marshall ShredMaster
marshall.com
It’s a great irony that the player most popularly associated with the Marshall ShredMaster is probably Radiohead’s Jonny Greenwood. Clearly, Greenwood is a guitar magician. But he is hardly a shredder in the conventional sense. So, what is it about the Marshall ShredMaster that it was given such a … um … shreddy name and yet finds favor among so many not-shreddy players? As is turns out, the explanations are many. And there are plenty of reasons shredders would find much to love in this sturdy, U.K.-made pedal too.
Blast and Squish
The ShredMaster was short-lived in its original incarnation. Introduced around 1991, it was discontinued just a year later. The timing of its release explains how it would have fallen into Greenwood’s hands and shown up on the band’s 1993 debut Pablo Honey. (I’m going to bet that the ShredMaster is doing a fair bit of the heavy lifting in “Creep’s” super-crunchy choruses.) The ShredMaster shows up all over Radiohead’s other ’90s LPs too—usually paired with Greenwood’s solid-state Fender Eighty Five. This pedal/amp pairing gives us some clues as to why the relationship endured.
See, the ShredMaster has a wonderful capacity for dark, compressed tones—the kind that would probably blend well with Greenwood’s humbucker-equipped Telecaster Plus and a bright, powerful solid-state amp. But those dark and compressed tones can also work well for super-fast picking when you’ve got high-octane pickups and a high-gain amp in your chain, working as a kind of glue as you move through fast lines and legato phrases. That’s one explanation for how this pedal bridges the chasm between metal and big indie. But while the ShredMaster doesn’t have as wide a vocabulary as Marshall pedal stablemates like the Guv’Nor, it’s an impressive source of heaviness that can work across many styles.
Because the ShredMaster can seem dark at EQ levels that, on other pedals, would translate to fairly even response, it’s important to get a feel for how the bass, contour, and treble controls work together. Of these, the contour is probably most critical. At settings in the clockwise half of its sweep, it adds a bossy midrange—PAF humbuckers gain a trashy metal edge but single-coils can sound a touch cloudy and fizzy. Left-of-center settings scoop the mids, sound more amp-like, and let more detail shine through. For most of my experiments I preferred to live in this zone.
In general, toppier treble settings also sound best. They enable single-coils to growl and will enhance sustain in humbuckers—giving bridge pickups a feral edge or, in the case of neck PAFs, a smoky heaviness that works well even with considerable volume and tone attenuation. (In general, the ShredMaster isn’t super responsive to changes in guitar input.) One should not be afraid to use a lot less bass from the ShredMaster either. While it can add welcome heft to a scooped, treble-heavy setting, it’s often a source of fogginess that puts a damper on the pedal’s most exciting and dynamite sounds. A good practice is to park the bass at noon, dial up treble and contour to levels that make your guitar sing best, and then add or subtract bass to taste.
The Verdict
Marshall wasn’t misleading us when they gave the ShredMaster its name. Its compressed, high-gain capabilities make the pedal a great partner for fast fretwork. But what any open-minded player will discover is that the ShredMaster, in spite of its name, can play many roles. It can lend heaps of mass and enhance sustain, as well as add a singing or stinging side to leads, or menace to a tame signal that needs to cut and slice on demand. And while its $249 price tag exceeds that of many pedals that drive an amp to nastiness, the ShredMaster’s unique voice and high-quality, U.K. build suggest it’s a pedal that could serve at the front line of any studio pedal collection or as a fixture on a board—offering both gigantic distortion tones and many exciting surprises over the course of a long and useful life
Marshall BluesBreaker, DriveMaster, The Guv'nor & ShredMaster Demos | First Look
Flexible and rich with liquid-to-choppy textures, this analog tremolo is addictive fun and a potent tone-shaper.
Abundant textures of analog trem’ you can really get lost in. Intuitive. Rich modulations.
Costs just enough to sting.
$279
JAM Pedals Harmonious Monk mk.2
jampedals.com
The second iteration of JAM’s Harmonious Monk, a tremolo pedal designed with Dan and Mick from That Pedal Show, has a way of making hours disappear. It’s super fun, full of sounds you can swim or drown in, and, after a short time, quite intuitive to use. I’d be surprised to encounter a gigging musician that couldn’t cover 90 percent of their tremolo needs with the mk.2. For most, I suspect, the mk.2 will cover every need and then some.
My own tremolo predilections span on-off, stop-motion, Spacemen 3 throbs and liquid, subdued, wallflower modulations. The mk.2 covers both of those extremes. Its capacity for fine tuning via the pedal’s depth, speed, level, and mix knobs; square, sine, and reverse wave shapes; and amplitude- and harmonic-style trem’—plus a tap tempo switch—lend the mk. 2 a painterly, intuitive functionality. Exploration of the expansive range of modulation sounds here can be a pretty meditative exercise. But you can just as easily use it surgically, without disappearing down a rabbit hole.
There are cool new features on the mk.2. “Tap” and “ramp,” in one button, is probably the coolest of them. It enables you to set and switch between extreme speeds as well as set the rate of the ramp. It’s a crazy-cool way to build dramatic mood shifts and even whole riffs. Even the grumpiest stompbox skeptic would have fun with the mk.2. The fact that it’s so completely practical, too, is pure cream on top.
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.