No matter how you feel about the Klon Centaur—whether you share the near-religious reverence of its acolytes or simply shrug your shoulders—it’s a damn fine and mighty versatile overdrive. And as with any good (or excruciatingly rare and expensive) pedal, it’s nice to have affordable alternatives.
Tone Bakery’s Creme Brulee doesn’t promise anything apart from being an affordable Klon alternative. But at 99 bucks, it’s very affordable by the near-mad standards of the vintage Klon market. And it delivers much of the Klon’s transparent, near-clean-to-crunchy tones, while offering the responsiveness that spawned the great Klon craving in the first place.
Slightly Secret Sauce
With gain, treble, and level controls aligned along the pedal’s length and an offset footswitch, the Creme Brulee hints unabashedly at the source of its inspiration. Alas, you won’t find out a lot about the Creme Brulee’s components by opening up the back. The upside-down printed circuit reveals even less than the black-tar goop that cloaks the innards of a real Klon. You can, however, see some of the cost saving measures that help Tone Bakery get below the $100 mark, such as board-mounted jacks. We also noticed that the unit can be a bit microphonic and susceptible to switching noise and bumps at high-gain settings, suggesting it could use a little extra shielding somewhere in the circuit.
In general though, economical construction methods have little adverse effect on the unit’s sturdy, solid feel. The knobs turn with a satisfying resistance that allows precise adjustments from the toe of a boot, and they tend to stay in place once you’ve got them where you want them.
Send in the Klones
If you plugged in the Creme Brulee and dialed everything up to noon, you’d probably be pretty pleased with the muscle and dimension it stacks on top of your amplified signal. It’s a fat, full, and natural-sounding overdrive. It’s also a Klon clone, so it was hard to resist playing it alongside the real deal—in this case, Senior Editor Joe Gore’s original (serial number 309 for all you pedal-spotters out there).
How did the Creme Brulee hold up against its near-mythical inspiration? Remarkably well, all told. Perhaps the most important difference is in the pedal’s touch sensitivity. While there’s not a profound difference between the Klon and the Creme Brulee, notes from the Klon tend to jump just a bit more immediately from the amp, and the output from the Creme Brulee feels a touch more compressed at equivalent settings. The difference is subtle, and it’s unlikely to affect the way you interact with the pedal, unless you’re obsessed with technique or a hyper-shredder. (And if that’s the case, why are you looking at a budget overdrive anyway?)
Ratings
Pros:
Super-authentic Klon-style tones on the cheap. Wide range of overdrive colors.
Cons:
Microphonic at high-gain settings.
Tones:
Ease of Use:
Build/Design:
Value:
Street:
$99
Tone Bakery Creme Brulee
tonebakery.com
In fact, were the Creme Brulee not hooked up next to the original Klon, we probably wouldn’t notice any lack of attack at all. It’s sensitive to picking dynamics, and that reactivity is enhanced by an overdriven signal that doesn’t color your guitar’s output too much. Like the Klon, the Creme Brulee possesses a subtlety at low-gain settings that some might classify as transparent—especially when you roll back the gain to near zero. And the ability it gives you to move between wildly different guitars and hear a clear, more-muscular version of each instrument lends a real sense of musical flexibility and dynamism that expands tone and performance possibilities in the studio and on the stage.
Adding gain in small doses colors guitar and amplifier tones with the same airy, wide-spectrum amp-like overdrive that made the Klon intoxicating to so many. And the range of available overdrive shades sometimes feels as colorful and full of possibilities as a box of 64 new Crayolas. Single-coils delivered everything from venomous blues tones to “Taxman”-style Beatle sounds, depending on how you set the very versatile treble control. Humbuckers bristled with cool, compressed, extra high-mid content that lent definition to arpeggios and power chords.
The Creme Brulee’s breadth of character is apparent in higher gain settings too—an application for which Klon’s are less celebrated, perhaps, but at which they are no less capable. The pedal can transform medium-wattage Fenders and 18-watt Marshalls into punky beasts with half-stack-like ferocity. And the snappy picky sensitivity you hear in feel in these zones is intoxicating stuff—particularly if you’ve been binge listening to the works of the young Jimmy Page.
The Verdict
Taken alone, there’s very little downside to the Creme Brulee. Perhaps the most glaring flaw is a lack of shielding that can make the pedal as microphonic as a vintage germanium fuzz at high-gain settings. Then again, the percentage of players who’ll use the Creme Brulee in that way are probably in the minority. That shortcoming aside, the Creme Brulee does a startlingly good imitation of an original Klon, and the slight differences in touch sensitivity, dynamics (the Creme Brulee has a little less), and compression (the Creme Brulee has a little more) are really only perceptible when you play it alongside a vintage Klon. For the rest of us, the Creme Brulee is an excellent overdrive alternative that offers a riot of gritty colors at a very reasonable price.
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Walrus Audio’s Monumental Harmonic Stereo Tremolo is far from the only modern tremolo pedal that offers stereo panning. And it’s one of many that digitally approximates the elastic, phasey sound of brown-panel Fender harmonic tremolo. But the Monumental’s economical design and compact dimensions conjure memories of PN-2s I’ve known and missed. It brims with features an old PN-2 user could only dream of in the midst of a stereo amp reverie: the harmonic tremolo, a more traditional optical tremolo-style voice, the ability to blend the two, six wave shape options, and a subdivision switch that enables precise rhythmic variations on any given modulation pattern.
Rhythms Carved in Rock
The Monumental is, as any Walrus-watcher will know, is an evolution of theMonument, which was built around harmonic and optical-inspired tremolo voices, and features tap-tempo, subdivisions, and five waveform types. So, the big news here is the stereo capacity, presets, and the ability to blend the harmonic and optical tremolo types. You’ll pay 60 extra bucks for these extended capabilities. But if you really get into using tr-molo to its fullest potential, these are no small matters.
“The big news here is the stereo capacity, presets, and the ability to blend the harmonic and optical tremolo types.”
The Monumental uses the same-sized enclosure as the Monument V2. The only real drawback from this layout is the proximity of the tap-tempo switch to the bypass, and, as I was reminded at a jam last week, I for one, can easily miss my footswitch target if I’m deeply involved in a musical moment. That issue aside, the Monumental is impressive for the way it accommodates stereo in and out jacks, a tap and expression pedal jack, six knobs for volume, wave shape, stereo pan spread, rate, depth, and the optical/harmonic blend. The subdivision button is situated just below these and is easy to access and operate. None of it, save for the footswitches, feels cramped or difficult to navigate.
Soaring Skyward
It’s good that Walrus added presets to the Monumental, because while it can often seem subtle, the deeper you venture into the possible textures, the more detail and difference you hear among them. Waveforms like the square and sine wave sound great at low- and medium-depth settings. Other options benefit from a more-aggressive depth setting. I tended to like the optical and harmonic tremolo voices in their purest forms, but you can find many intricacies to probe and unravel in the blended settings. Some of those differences might go missing in the wash of a dense arrangement, but when they breathe in more spacious musical settings they are lovely. This is especially true when you use the pedal in stereo.
If you don’t intend to use the Monumental in stereo, you should carefully consider whether the presets and blendable voices merit the extra expenditure. For many, they will. But using the Momumental in mono alone means missing out on some of the pedal’s most infectious sounds. While square, sine, sawtooth, and random waveforms sound particularly exciting here, the other waveform types bubble and percolate all over the stereo field, often sounding percussive in optical mode and woozy in harmonic settings. Maximum depth settings sound particularly immersive. You can also enhance the effects of a dramatic stereo spread by equalizing your two amps differently. I boosted the bass and removed most of the treble from a black-panel Fender and did the inverse with a Vox-style amp for my stereo experiments. The resulting combination of detailed pick attack, strong transients, and peaky top-end popping over a fat, rubbery foundation sounded liquid and surreal—even with the pronounced treble peaks in the mix—making an already basically rich tremolo voice sound extra three-dimensional. By the way, yes, I tried the “How Soon Is Now” riff through a stereo setup. And yep, it sounded fantastic.
The Verdict
At $279, you will want to ask yourself how much tremolo you intend to use before you invest in the Monumental. There are certainly simpler ways to swamp-rock. The Monumental also lives at the more expensive end of its category—coming in a little pricier than pedals like the Keeley Hydra and the crazy-feature-rich EHX Super Pulsar. But there’s no contesting the high quality of this USA-made pedal or the thoughtful way the sounds within were conceived. And studio rats and texture obsessives that love the sensation of swimming in a stereo field may find the Monumental worth every penny.
Walrus Audio Monumental Stereo Harmonic Tap Tremolo - Orange
Unlike the simplest sustain pedals, the Layers enables the player to significantly mutate sustained notes and textures. You can add blends of delay and chorusing that aren’t perceptibly either effect, which creates uncommon-sounding stacks and waves of guitar sound. The Layers pedal takes practice to use with precision, but even partial command of its time-warping capabilities makes it rewarding to use, and it’s relatively easy to dial in chaotic—or fluid and ordered—sustain and harmonizing effects to suit your whims.
Blink Twice If You Understand
Dive straight into Layers without a peek at the quick-start guide and you might fast end up swimming in washes of repeats and harmonic tangles. At first, it might not even be apparent what a layer is supposed to be, particularly because the delay and modulation effects can be so prominent. Essentially a layer is a snapshot of the sound you’re playing as you trigger the effect—either by pressing the soft-relay footswitch or by dynamic picking, depending on where you set the threshold control. (This type of functionality will be familiar to players that use envelope filters.) From there, you can control the length of the layer with the decay control, the wet/dry mix, and the rate at which the layer becomes audible, with the attack knob. By getting a feel for these functions, you can use Layers to predictably create droning and harmonizing accompaniment to what you play. But several additional features enable dramatic alteration of the shape and color of your layers. The “single” button allows switching between a default mode, in which as many as three layers can play concurrently, and another that allows only a single layer at a given time.
A set of secondary functions for each knob are activated by holding down either the single or sub-octave button, which primarily transposes layers down an octave. Options here include the ability to adjust the modulation time, modulation blend, delay time, diffusion (between more or less cavernous ambience), and the amount of dry signal sent to the delay effect, which makes the echoes dirtier and more prominent. The footswitch does triple duty. A single click activates a layer, clicking and holding sustains a layer for as long as you hold the switch, and clicking twice clears layers and puts the pedal in bypass. Functions like dry/wet signal splits, stereo operation, and control via external pedals are also available.Third-Eye Super Vision
The features listed here make the Layers seem more imposing than it is. As I said at the top, you may stare at the pedal a lot to see when the attack threshold is crossed or see which layers have been activated in the multi-layer mode. But the longer you work with Layers, the more you can do by feel. Getting a feel for what rate of swell and decay are right for a given guitar part can change from tune to tune, which makes the absence of presets a slight inconvenience. But it’s not terribly hard to make these adjustments in between tunes or even on the fly, when you’re comfortable. If you elect to go with a single set up and stick with it, you can still add much dynamic control depending on where you set the threshold. Configuring the pedal with a low- to medium-sensitive threshold, three available layers, conservative mix levels, and more generous delay times means you can move between gentle passages where you ride over misty, slow-fading overtone backgrounds or forceful, blown-out ones—all by varying pick intensity. It’s a much more interesting way to build quiet-to-loud dynamics than just switching on, say, an extra drive pedal and reverbs simultaneously. And that flexibility can help you respond to a live performance with extra sensitivity to the mood of a piece. (By the way, it bears mentioning that Layers is often more effective at the start of an effects chain, where it will respond most directly to your input.)
Layers can be subtle. I enjoyed using low mix levels, long decay settings, a permissive threshold, and slow-ramping rise times to create hazy harmonizing trails. I also loved the avalanches of deeply modulating, colliding, and completely unsubtle soundwaves you can slather over a still-coherent melody. Loopers will love building stacks of rising, falling, swelling, and swirling passages of all of these textures that roll like storm clouds. In fact, a two-pedal setup of Layers and a looper will make a simple guitar and amplifier weirder and more otherworldly by orders of magnitude.
The Verdict
The Layers inhabits a sweet middle ground between a simple single-function sustain pedal and overflowing loopers or multi-delays. And though you can utilize very prominent harmonizing voices, it’s generally grainer, less loaded, and more unique than a shimmer reverb. It’s these very uncommon voices and sounds, as well as a capacity for intuitive operation, that make Layers so alluring.
It would have been easy for Wampler to simply make a Mostortion clone and call it a day, but they added some unique twists to the Mofetta pedal. While the original Mostortion had a MOSFET-based op amp, it actually used clipping diodes to create its overdrive. The Mofetta is a fairly accurate replica and includes that circuitry, but also has a toggle switch for texture, which lets you choose between the original-style diode-based clipping in the down position and multi-cascaded MOSFET gain stages in the up position.
Luscious Low Gain and Meaty Mid-Gain
The Mofetta’s control panel is very straightforward and conventional with knobs for bass, mids, treble, level, and gain. The original Mostortion was revered for its low-gain tone and is now popular among Nashville session guitarists. Wampler’s tribute captures that edge-of-breakup vibe perfectly. I enjoyed using the pedal with the gain on the lower side, around 9 o’clock, where I heard and felt slight compression that gave single notes a smooth and silky feel. I particularly enjoyed the tone-thickening the Mofetta lent to my Ernie Ball Music Man Axis Sport’s split-coil sound as I played pop melodies and rootsy, triadic rhythm guitar figures. The Mofetta has expansive headroom, and as a result there’s a lot of space in which you can find really bold, cutting tones without muddying the waters too much. Even turning the gain all the way off yields a pleasing volume bump that would work well in a clean boost setting.
There’s a lot of space in which you can find really bold, cutting tones without muddying the waters too much.
Switching the texture switch up engages the MOSFET section, introducing cascading gain stages that elevate the heat and add flavor the original Mostortion didn’t really offer. Classic rock and early metal are readily available via the MOSFET setting. If you need to stretch out to modern metal sounds, the Mofetta probably isn’t the pedal for you. Again, the original Mostortion was, first and foremost, a low-to-mid-gain affair, so unless you’re using it as a boost with a high-gain amp, the Mofetta is not really a vehicle for extreme sounds.
One of the Mofetta’s real treats is its responsiveness. Even at higher gain settings the Mofetta is very touch sensitive. You can tap into a wide range of dynamic shading just by varying the strength of your pick attack. I enjoyed playing fast, ascending scalar passages, picking with a medium attack then really slamming it hard when I hit a high climactic note, to get the guitar to really scream.
The Verdict
Wampler is a reliably great builder who creates pedals with a purpose. I own two of his pedals, the Dual Fusion and the Pinnacle, and both are really exceptional units. The Mofetta captures the essence of the Mostortion and makes it available at an accessible price. But even if you’ve never heard or played an original Mostortion, you’ll appreciate the truly versatile EQ, touch sensitivity, and the bonus texture switch, which expands the Mofetta’s range into more aggressive spaces. The wealth of dirt boxes on the market today can make a player jaded. But Wampler pushed into a relatively unique, satisfying, and interesting place with the Mofetta.
Filthy, saturated fuzz is a glorious thing, whether it’s the writ-large solos of Big Brother and the Holding Company’s live “Ball and Chain,” the soaring feedback and pure crush of Jimi Hendrix’s “Foxy Lady,” or the sandblasted rhythm textures of Queens of the Stone Age’s “Paper Machete.” It’s also a Wayback Machine. Step on a fuzz pedal and your tone is transported to the ’60s or early ’70s, which, when it comes to classic guitar sounds, is not a bad place to be.
Catalinbread’s StarCrash is from their new ’70s collection, so the company is laying its Six Million Dollar Man trading cards on the table—upping the ante on traditional fuzz with more controls and, according to the company’s website, a little more volume than the average fuzz pedal, while still staying in the traditional Fuzz Face lane.
The Howler’s Viscera
Arbiter Electronics made the first Fuzz Face in 1966. The StarCrash is inspired by that 2-transistor pedal, but benefits from evolution, as did almost all fuzz pedals in the ’70s, when the standard shifted from germanium to silicon circuitry to improve the consistency of the effect’s performance. The downside is that germanium is gnarlier to some ears, and silicon transistors don’t respond as well to adjustments made via a guitar’s volume control.
While Fuzz Faces have only two knobs, volume and fuzz, the silicon StarCrash has three: volume, bias, and low-cut. Catalinbread’s website explains: “We got rid of that goofy fuzz knob. We know that 95 percent of all players run it dimed, and the remaining 5 percent use their guitar’s volume knob to rein it in.”
I suspect there are plenty of players who, like me, do adjust the fuzz control on their pedals, but the most important thing is that the core fuzz sound here is excellent—bristly and snarling, with a far girthier tone than my reissue Fuzz Face. It’s also, with the bias and low-cut controls, far more flexible. The low-cut control allows you to range from a traditional, comparatively thinner Fuzz Face sound (past noon and further) to the StarCrash’s authentic, beefier voice (noon and lower). Essentially, it cuts bass frequencies from 40 Hz to 500 Hz, resulting in an aural menu that runs from lush and lowdown to buzzy and slicing. And the bias control is a direct route to the spitty, fragmented, so-called Velcro-sound that’s become a staple of the stoner-rock/Jack White school of tone. The company calls this dial a “dying battery simulator,” and it starves the second transistor to achieve that effect.
Sweet Song of the Tribbles
Playing with the StarCrash is a lot of fun. I ran it through a pair of Carr amps in stereo, adding some delay and reverb to mood, and used a variety of single-coil- and humbucker-outfitted guitars. While both pickup types interacted well with the pedal, the humbuckers were most pleasing to my ears with the bias cranked to about 2 o’clock or higher, since the ’buckers higher output allowed me to let notes sustain longer before sputtering out. Keeping the low-cut filter at 9 o’clock or lower also helped sustain and depth in the Velcro-fuzz zone, while letting more of the instruments’ natural voices come through, of course.
With the low-cut filter turned up full and the bias at 10 o’clock, I got the StarCrash to be the perfect doppelganger of my Hendrix reissue Fuzz Face. But that’s such a small part of the pedal’s overall tone profile. It was more fun to roll off just a bit of bass and set the bias knob to about 2 or 3 o’clock. Around these settings, the sound is huge and grinding, and yet barre chords hold their character while playing rhythm, and single-note runs, especially on the low strings, are a filthy delight, with just the right schmear of buttery sustain plus a hint of decay lurking behind every note. It’s such a ripe tone—the sonic equivalent of a delicious, stinky cheese—that I could hang with it all day.
Regarding Catalinbread’s claims about the volume control? Yes, it gets very loud without losing the essence of the notes or chords you’re playing, or the character of the fuzz, which is a distinct advantage when you’re in a band and need to stand out. And it’s a tad louder than my Fuzz Face but doesn’t really bark up to the level of most Tone Bender or Buzzaround clones I’ve heard. In my experience, these germanium-chipped critters of similar vintage can practically slam you through the wall when their volume levels are cranked.
The Verdict
Catalinbread’s StarCrash—with its sturdy enclosure, smooth on/off switch and easy-to-manipulate dials—can compete with any Fuzz Face variant in both price and performance, scoring high points on the latter count. The bias and low-cut dials provide access to a wider-than-usual variety of fuzz tones, and are especially delightful for long, playful solos dappled with gristle, flutter, and sustain. Kudos to Catalinbread for making this pedal not just a reflection of the past, but an improvement on it.
Catalinbread Starcrash 70 Fuzz Pedal - Starcrash 70 Collection
