Billed as a practice amp, this 40-watt, solid-state combo with reverb and tremolo is clean, pedal- and stage-friendly, and affordable.
Orange O 40
I enjoy that back-of-the-throat, big cat growl that starts happening when you turn up the preamp of an Orange amplifier. But the company’s new O Tone 40 is a different breed of feline. With no gain control and a 1x12 made-in-Poland Voice of the World speaker that doesn’t break up until you start cranking it past noon, the O Tone 40 is designed to purr rather than snarl—unless lashed to an overdrive or fuzz pedal. It adds a different, more American-vintage flavor to the company’s lineup of versatile, low-priced new-generation amps and a voice shaped, in many respects,by the number and character of the stomps on your pedalboard.
Practice Schmactis
The solid-state O Tone 40 is billed as a practice amp, but I’d feel comfortable taking it onstage anywhere I’d use, say, a Deluxe Reverb or Blues Junior. It’s a 40-watt, class-AB build with 3-band EQ, digital reverb, and footswitchable JFET-driven tremolo. There’s an effects loop, too, and the combo clocks in at a light 26 pounds. In the modern practice-amp spirit, the O Tone has a 1/4'' headphone out and an unbalanced line-out to run into a DAW. There’s also an auxiliary input for, say, pumping in rhythm tracks or plugging in a metronome. The cabinet is medium-density fiberboard, versus the birch plywood of the 35-watt, 1x10 Orange Crush, which has no reverb or tremolo. And it’s tagged at a very reasonable $399, given its overall functionality.
With its classic control set—reverb, depth, speed, bass, midrange, treble, and volume, from left to right—the O Tone 40 is easy to use, and dialing up a host of good sounds with single-coil and humbucking pickups was a snap. The closed-back design and overall sonic profile tends to make the amp a bit bass heavy, especially with humbuckers, so it’s important to watch the EQ settings. I found a set-it-and-forget-it location with the bass at 9 o’clock, the mids floored, and the treble at 11 o’clock. This is a matter of taste, of course, and mine runs toward the mid-heavy with tempered treble. After all, Orange amps’ strength has always been the harmonic richness of their mids, and the O Tone 40 hits that mark. Plus, adding a little more treble pulled things toward Marshall territory, too.
Another aspect I loved was the breakup I started to hear working the volume up past noon. It’s more subtle than snarling, and reminded me of the organic dirty sounds that can be achieved by cranking up old Valco and Gibson amps from the ’50s and ’60s. So vintage tone hunters may find the O Tone 40 a great lower-priced alternative to an actual period piece. But the quiet effects loop also makes the amp ready for sonic futurism, if that’s one’s goal.
Finally, the reverb is deliciously spring-like, and the dial will travel from dry to surf to the supernatural. The tremolo has plenty of vintage character, too, although I would like to see a little more response in the lower range of the depth control, like that I’ve experienced with old Supros and Gibsons, which can get pretty radical right out of the box.
The Verdict
The super-affordable Orange O Tone 40 is versatile and pedal-friendly, with vibe-y reverb and tremolo as well as an effects loop, so stomp OD fans likely won’t miss the amp-maker’s usual appealing gain profile. There’s enough headroom for clean stage and rehearsal sounds at substantial volume, and pushing the volume past noon yields a very vintage-amp-like breakup profile, which make the O Tone a dependable work-pony with much more than a single trick.
Xotic Effects newest version of the Vox-flavored AC Booster, the AC Booster V2, adds a second, footswitchable boost circuit (tweakable via a small, clear knob tucked among the four main-channel controls), plus a set of four DIP switches on the box’s righthand side which engage compression, modern or classic voicing, low-mid boost, and high-mid boost.
This new suite of features packs significant extra functionality into V2’s still-diminutive enclosure. The Vox sounds are all there, and with the high-mids juiced and treble nudged, you’re squarely in clanging Top Boost territory. The modern voicing trades some furry mid-range chunk for a bit more aggression and clarity, while the compression is useful for leveling leads and smoothing out unruly playing.
The boost knob is a little difficult to access, situated as it is in the center of the primary four-knob array. I don’t have particularly big fingers, but even I had trouble twiddling it. That’ll annoy some. But it’s a small price to pay for such a pedalboard-friendly footprint. The boost doses you with a healthy bump in level and gain that’s great for stand-out leads and solos. And speaking of standing out, the upper-mid boost switch is a treat. I found that creating a greater disparity between the high mids from the low mids made for a more precise and satisfying tone-shaping experience than I would experience using a standard mids knob.
There are no shortage of pedals that ape Vox AC30 mojo, but I haven’t seen many that will give you the range of utility that the AC Booster V2 will, for less for $200. Xotic nailed a smart and versatile redesign here.
Incremental improvements yield a deeply satisfying whole in a Tele for all seasons.
Fender Player II Modified Telecaster SH & Stratocaster Demos by John Bohlinger | First Look
As the slightly unwieldy name for this new series suggests, Fender is not averse to regular, incremental tweaks and refinements to core and legacy instruments. Some such improvements get guitar folk riled up more than others. But the refinements and overall execution in the new Player II Modified Telecaster SH are almost exclusively lovable. It’s musically flexible, stout, precision crafted, and satisfying to play. And the sturdy build, plentitude of sweet sounds, and the accessible price add up to a satisfying sum—a guitar capable of fending off competitors striving to beat Fender at their own game in the $1K price range.
The tight fit-and-finish I’m used to from Fender’s Ensenada, Mexico, factory is plain to see everywhere. In an almost black shade of purple/indigo called dusk with rosewood fretboard and black pickguard, it’s a beautiful guitar with a moody personality. Design elements that are felt rather than heard, however, reveal a sunnier disposition. The neck profile is a variation on the C profile Fender uses in scads of guitars, but the satin finish and more contoured fretboard edges make it feel extra fast and lived in.
There’s a lot that’s exciting and satisfying to hear, too. Any good Telecaster in the single-coil bridge/humbucker neck pickup configuration has a high potential for magic. So it goes here. If there is any difference in core tonality between a vintage Telecaster bridge pickup and the Player II Modified Tele bridge unit, it’s that the latter might feel a little beefy in the low-midrange and maybe just a little fuzzy along the edges where vintage Telecasters shatter glass. I heard these qualities most via a vintage Vibrolux Reverb, which made the Tele bridge pickup sound a touch bellowy. The pickups are a fantastic match for an AC15 though, and most folks will hear tones squarely, identifiably, and often delectably along the Telecaster spectrum regardless of amp pairing. The pickups are also a great match for each other—both in combinations of the bridge and humbucker and the bridge and split-coil humbucker. The possible combinations are compounded by rangey pots and a treble-bleed circuit that keeps guitar volume-attenuated settings awake with top end. If you’re keen on working with the Telecaster SH’s volume and tone controls and split-coil capabilities, it’s remarkable how many sounds you can extract from the Telecaster SH and an amp alone. With a nice overdrive and a little echo, the world is your oyster.
At a click just north of a thousand bucks, the Player II Modified Telecaster SH is in a crazy-competitive market space. But it is a guitar of real substance, and in this iteration, features meaningful enhancements in the pickups, bridge, and locking tuners that offer real value and utility.
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.
Bold-voiced, super-tunable distortion that excels in contexts from filtered boost to total belligerence.
Whitman Audio calls the Wave Collapse a fuzz—and what a very cool fuzz it is. But classifying it strictly as such undersells the breadth of its sounds. The Seattle, Washington-built Wave Collapse has personality at low gain levels and super crunchy ones. It’s responsive and sensitive enough to input and touch dynamics to move from light overdrive to low-gain distortion and degenerate fuzz with a change in picking intensity or guitar volume. And from the pedal’s own very interactive controls, one can summon big, ringing, near-clean tones, desert sludge, or snorkel-y wah buzz.
The Wave Collapse speaks many languages, but it has an accent—usually an almost wah-like midrange lilt that shows up as faint or super-pronounced. It’s not everyone’s creamy distortion ideal. But with the right guitar pairings and a dynamic approach, the Wave Collapse’s midrange foundation can still span sparkly and savage extremes that stand tall and distinctive in a mix. There’s much that sounds and feels familiar in the Wave Collapse, but the many surprises it keeps in store are the real fun.
Heavy Surf, Changing Waves
The absence of a single fundamental influence makes it tricky to get your bearings with the Wave Collapse at first. Depending on where you park the controls to start, you might hear traces of RAT in the midrange-forward, growly distortion, or the Boss SD-1 in many heavy overdrive settings. At its fuzziest, it howls and spits like aFuzz Face orTone Bender and can generate compressed, super-focused, direct-to-desk rasp. And in its darker corners, weighty doom tones abound.
The many personalities are intentional. Whitman Dewey-Smith’s design brief was, in his own words, “a wide palette ranging from dirty boost to almost square-wave fuzz and textures that could be smooth or sputtery.” A parallel goal, he says, was to encourage tone discoveries in less-obvious spaces. Many such gems live in the complex interrelationships between the EQ, filter, and bias controls. They also live in the circuit mash-up at the heart of the Wave Collapse. The two most prominent fixtures on the circuit are the BC108 transistor (best known as a go-to in Fuzz Face builds) and twin red LED clipping diodes (associated, in the minds of many, with clipping in the Turbo RAT and Marshall Jubilee amplifier). That’s not exactly a classic combination of amplifier and clipping section components, but it’s a big part of the Wave Collapse’s sonic identity.
The BC108 drives one of two core gain stages in the Wave Collapse. The first stage takes inspiration from early, simple fuzz topologies like the Tone Bender and Fuzz Face, but with a focus on what Dewey-Smith calls “exploiting the odd edges and interactivity in a two-transistor gain stage.” The BC108 contributes significant character to this stage. The second, post-EQ gain stage is JFET-based. It’s set up to interact like a tube guitar amp input stage and is followed by the clipping LEDs. Dewey-Smith says you can think of the whole as a “fairly” symmetric hard-clipping scheme.
“The magic of the circuit is that those gain stages are very complimentary. When stage one is running clean, it still passes a large, unclipped signal that hits the second stage, making those classic early distortion sounds. Conversely, when the first stage is running hot, it clips hard and the second stage takes a back seat—mostly smoothing out the rough edges of the first stage.” Factor in the modified Jack Orman pickup simulator-style section in the front end, and you start to understand the pedal’s propensity for surprise and expressive latitude.
Searchin’ Safari
The Wave Collapse’s many identities aren’t always easy to wrangle at the granular-detail level. The control set—knobs for bias, filter color, input level, and output level, plus switches for “mass” (gain,) “range”(bass content at the input), and “center” (shifts the filter’s mid emphasis from flat)—are interdependent in such a way that small adjustments can shift a tone’s character significantly, and it can be challenging to find your way back to a tone that sounded just right five minutes ago. Practice goes a long way toward mastering these sensitivities. One path to reliably reproducible sounds is to establish a ballpark tone focus with the filter first, dial in the input gain to an appropriately energetic zone, then shape the distortion color and response more specifically with the bias.
As you get a feel for these interactions, you’ll be knocked out by the sounds and ideas you bump into along the way. In addition to obvious vintage fuzz and distortion touchstones I crafted evocations of blistering, compressed tweed amps, jangly Marshalls, and many shades of recording console preamp overdrive. The Wave Collapse responds in cool ways to just about any instrument you situate out front. But while your results may vary, I preferred the greater headroom and detail that comes with single-coil pickup pairings. Humbuckers, predictably conjure a more compressed and, to my ears, less varied set of sounds. I also found black-panel Fender amps a more adaptable pairing than Vox- and Marshall-style voices. But just about any guitar or pickup type can yield magnificent results.
The Verdict
Though it’s hard to avoid its filtered midrange signature entirely, the Wave Collapse is a pedal of many masks. Once you master the twitchy interactivity between its controls, you can tailor the pedal to weave innocuously but energetically into a mix or completely dominate it. These capabilities are invaluable in ensemble performances, but it’s super enticing to consider how the Wave Collapse would work in a studio situation, where its focus and potency can fill gaps and nooks in color and vitality or turn a tune on its head. Pedals that stimulate the inner arranger, producer, and punk simultaneously are valuable tools. And while the Wave Collapse won’t suit every taste, when you factor together the pedal’s sub-$200 cost, thoughtful design, high-quality execution, and malleability, it adds up to a lot of utility for a very fair price.