The Super Plextortion and Pinnacle from Brian Wampler aim for two iconic rock sounds: Plexi Marshall and Van Halen''s "Brown Sound."
Known throughout popular DIY internet forums and publications alike, Brian Wampler is a true example of just how powerful the internet can be. After he modded several pedals for members of the Harmony Central gear forums, word spread of his talents and know-how, and soon he was in demand from casual and seasoned players alike. He started offering his own designs for sale, and also formed indyguitarist.com with a forum for DIY pedal modding enthusiasts to post communicate with one another on how to improve the sound of their gear. With 15 pedals available for guitarists, Wampler has now added the Super Plextortion (a modern update of his admired Plextortion) and Pinnacle Distortion to the lineup.
Super Plextortion
Download Example 1 | |
PRS McCarty into a 1973 Marshall Super Bass with a Bogner 4x12 |
The Super Plextortion is a beefed-up variation of Wampler’s popular Plextortion pedal. The idea was to provide a more modern array of tones by altering the internal gain stages (three total), giving more transparency and bite with a tighter low end. The original Plextortion is still offered by Wampler, as it has more of a vintage-vibe with a heavier midrange emphasis than its newer brother. Located on the front panel of the Super Plextortion is a 3-band EQ consisting of Treble, Mid, and Bass controls. Sandwiched between a Volume and a Gain control is a Gain Boost switch for saturated leads and heavier riffing.
Part of the Wampler philosophy is affordability. Brian likes to test his effects through affordable rigs that most people would have the chance of owning. I now own a really great-sounding 1973 Marshall Super Bass head, but before I was able to acquire it, I went through tons of pedals trying to capture that sound with whatever amp I had at the time. Simply put, pedals like this exist because not everybody can afford a vintage plexi or metalface Marshall amplifier, so I decided to give the pedal a run through a Fender Twin Reverb reissue with a 1998 Gibson Les Paul Studio equipped with a Seymour Duncan JB (bridge) and Jazz (neck) combination. With all of the controls at noon and the gain boost off, the Super Plextortion handled light, open-chord riffing quite well, with a great amount of transparency. I love pedals that allow me to hear my pick making contact with the strings as I slice through a chord, while at the same time keeping a reasonable amount of string clarity. Not only did the Super Plextortion handle this expertly, but as I increased the Gain, the definition just got stronger and punchier. Only on lower strings below the fifth fret did the low end start to muddy up a bit, but backing off of the gain helped restore the tone to its former glory.
The voicing of the pedal is darker than most vintage Super Lead heads I’ve come across. Gear hunters who have scoured the ends of the earth for vintage Marshalls will love this, as many of those older plexis had very different feel and voicings due to slight variations in the circuit. The voicing of the Super Plextortion is just right, perfect for high-gain work in the vein of George Lynch. While the Super Plextortion has a great deal of gain, it’s best applied to styles of music famous from the modded-Marshall era of tones—the ‘80s and early ‘90s. Think Slave To The Grind-era Skid Row rather than the more current, grinding rhythm tones produced by bands like Slayer. I especially liked how well it sat in line with the famously bright Twin Reverb. All too often I’ve seen bands with bright-sounding rigs try to pummel the front end of the amps with high-gain distortion pedals, only to produce horrible ear fatigue from a bad mix with the band. For players looking for that hot-rodded Marshall tone without having to lug a vintage half-stack behind them, the Super Plextortion might be just the ticket.
Buy if...
you’re looking for a versatile distortion to cover a wide range of hot-rodded British tones.
Skip if...
you are after a distortion that cops tones with a more American voicing, à la Mesa/Boogie.
Rating...
Pinnacle
Download Example 1 | |
Download Example 2 | |
Ibanez 1978 Iceman into a 1973 Marshall Super Bass with a Bogner 4x12 |
The Pinnacle Distortion is one of the more aggressive-sounding distortions in the Wampler line. The pedal was designed to cover light to heavier overdrive, but dishing out the famous Van Halen “brown sound” is where its heart really lies. The Pinnacle relies on two separate EQ controls, dubbed Tone and Contour, to shape its overall sound, coupled with separate volume and gain controls. In between the four knobs are two mini-switches, the first toggling the voicing between vintage and modern modes, and the second between normal and boosted gain amounts.
For testing out the Pinnacle, I used a 1978 Gibson Les Paul Custom with a Bareknuckle Warpig in the bridge and a Vox AC30 reissue combo. With both the Tone and Contour controls set at noon, I gradually increased the gain on the unboosted vintage mode, and let loose a flurry of Jake E. Lee-inspired rhythm work. The tone was extremely impressive, with smooth, pleasing highs and soft yet aggressive lows coupled with a really grinding midrange. I could really hear the brown sound influence here, and wow, was it close.
Knowing that a lot of the original tone was due to a low-output PAF in Eddie’s original guitar, I switched out my guitar to a 1978 Ibanez Iceman set neck with a Seymour Duncan ’59 humbucker in the bridge. The clarity of the tone after this change was certainly noticeable, with a great, spongy low end to boot. While this tone was fantastic, the resulting sounds that I was able to coax out of the Pinnacle with very small adjustments to the EQ were even more impressive. The Tone and Contour controls are extremely sensitive and powerful, almost to the point of going overboard. The Pinnacle is capable of some really over-the-top, biting distortion, so it’s best to be conservative when setting the EQ knobs. With the modern mode and boost engaged, the pedal can get into thrash metal territory if you raise the Contour control to higher levels. It almost turns the pedal into an entirely different beast, one that only moment before was singing some awfully inspiring, smooth vintage tones. Even at these extreme settings, the Pinnacle’s low end stayed tight and present, even after switching back to the Les Paul with the much hotter humbucker. Flipping back to the vintage mode and leaving the boost on let the low end loosen up a bit, gave me back that great vintage British amp sag that Billy Gibbons and Cream-era Eric Clapton helped make famous, especially on the neck pickup with the tone rolled off a little bit.
The Pinnacle certainly achieves its goal of giving very convincing early-‘80s hard rock tones, but what really blew me away was its ability to get so many other sounds. However, extreme settings can sometimes give off a harsh and unruly sound, so being careful with the EQ positions is advised. I don’t think this is a downfall of the pedal, though. Actually, I like the fact that Wampler designed the Pinnacle to have the ability to go into these other tonal territories, as it helps give it more range for whatever rig is being used. Some darker amps could benefit from the added brightness of the higher EQ settings, and some rigs with a brighter edge might be improved with the opposite. Either way, the Wampler Pinnacle is flat-out a great distortion device, one of those pedals that makes you want to keep doing what we all love: play guitar!
Buy if...
you’re looking for a pedal that can cover a lot of British-voiced distortion tones.
Skip if...
American-flavored distortion tones are your thing.
Rating...
Columnist Janek Gwizdala with heroes Dennis Chambers (left) and Mike Stern (right).
Keeping your gigging commitments can be tough, especially when faced with a call from a hero. But it’s always the right choice.
Saying “yes!” to everything early on has put me in a place now where I can say no to almost everything and still be okay. That wasn’t without its challenges. I’d like to share a story about a “yes” that would haunt me for years.
As bass players, we can, if we choose, quite easily find ourselves in a wide variety of situations without having to change much about our sound or our playing. If your time is good and you’re able to help those around you feel good and sound better, the telephone will pretty much always ring.
Playing jazz as an electric-bass player living in New York City from 2000 to 2010 was somewhat of a fool’s errand in terms of getting work. No one wanted electric bass, and bandleaders would go to the bottom of a list of 100 upright players before they would even think about calling you. Not only that, but I wasn’t even at the top of the electric list when I first moved there. Not even close. Anthony Jackson, Richard Bona, Will Lee, Tim Lefebvre, James Genus, Lincoln Goines, Mike Pope, John Benitez, Matthew Garrison—that’s a who’s who of the instrument when I first moved to town, and I was very much a freshman with almost no experience. Almost…
I’d been lucky enough to play extensively with Kenwood Dennard (Jaco’s drummer), and a little with Hiram Bullock (Jaco’s guitarist) before moving to NYC which helped create a little momentum, but only a VERY little.
This is where the story begins:
I’d sent Mike Stern a demo back in late ’97. He’d not only taken the time to listen to it but had called my parents’ house right after I moved to the U.S. to tell me he loved it and wanted to hang. I missed the call but eventually met him at a clinic he gave at Berklee.
Of course, I was buzzing about all of this. It helped me stay laser-focused on practice and on moving to NYC as soon as possible. I got the typical “look me up when you get to town” invitation from Stern and basically counted the seconds through the three semesters I stayed at Berklee until I could split town.
I arrived with a ton of confidence but zero gigs. And nothing happened overnight. It really took saying yes to literally everything I was offered just to keep a roof over my head. Through that process, I felt like I was getting further away from playing with my jazz heroes.
The early gigs were far from glamorous—long hours, terrible pay, and sometimes, after travel expenses, they cost me money to play.
“Whenever I have a single moment of doubt, I think about the time I had to say no to my heroes—the reasons I moved to America, the reason I do what I do.”
When Stern finally called, a few years into living in NYC, things started to move pretty quickly. I began playing a lot of gigs at the 55 Bar with him, and short road trips became a thing—a four-night stint at Arturo Sandoval’s new club in Miami, gigs in Chicago, Cleveland, and upstate New York, and then some international work, including a tour of Mexico and a trip to Brazil, if I remember right.
But the hardest phone call of my career came from Mike not long into my time touring with him. It went something like this:
“Hey man, what’s your scene in April? Lincoln can’t make a trip to the West Coast. It’s just one gig. Trio… with DENNIS CHAMBERS.”
Mike didn’t shout Dennis’ name, but that’s how I heard it. My all-time hero. Someone I’d been dreaming about playing with for over 15 years. And here’s the kicker: I had to say no.
I’d just committed to six weeks with Jojo Mayer’s band Nerve in Asia and Europe, and there was no way I could bail on him. And there was no way I could afford to ditch six weeks of work for a single gig with Mike. To say that haunted me for years is an understatement. I was destroyed that I had to turn it down.
The tour with Jojo was amazing—the posters hang in my studio as a reminder of those times to this day. And thankfully, I was able to go on some years later and play dozens of shows with Mike and Dennis all over the world—truly some of the highlights of my career.
I still think about that phone call, though. Whenever I have a single moment of doubt, I think about the time I had to say no to my heroes—the reasons I moved to America, the reason I do what I do. I get emotional writing and thinking about it even now. But I've learned to never have regrets and understand you just have to believe in the process and maintain the willpower to continue—no matter what.
New RAT Sound Solution Offers a Refined Evolution of Distortion
ACT Entertainment ’s iconic RAT brand has unveiledthe Sterling Vermin, a boutique distortion guitar pedal that blends heritage tone with modernrefinement. With a new take on RAT’s unmistakable sound, Sterling Vermin delivers a new levelof precision and versatility.
“The Sterling Vermin was born from a desire for something different — something refined, withthe soul of a traditional RAT pedal, but with a voice all its own,” says Shawn Wells, MarketManager—Sound, ACT Entertainment, who designed the pedal along with his colleague MattGates. “Built in small batches and hand-soldered in ACT’s Jackson, Missouri headquarters, theSterling Vermin is a work of pure beauty that honors the brand legacy while taking a bold stepforward for creativity.”
The Sterling Vermin features the LM741 Op-Amp and a pair of selectable clipping diodes.Players can toggle between the traditional RAT silicon diode configuration for a punchy, mid-range bite, or the BAT41 option for a smoother, more balanced response. The result is a pedalthat’s equally at home delivering snarling distortion or articulate, low-gain overdrive, with a wide,usable tonal range throughout the entire gain spectrum.
The pedal also features CTS pots and oversized knobs for even, responsive control that affordsa satisfying smoothness to the rotation, with just the right amount of tension. Additionally, thepolished stainless-steel enclosure with laser-annealed graphics showcases the merging of thepedal’s vintage flavor and striking design.
“From low-gain tones reminiscent of a Klon or Bluesbreaker, to high-gain settings that flirt withBig Muff territory — yet stay tight and controlled — the Sterling Vermin is a masterclass indynamic distortion,” says Gates, an ACT Entertainment Sales Representative. “With premiumcomponents, deliberate design and a focus on feel, the Sterling Vermin is more than a pedal, it’sa new chapter for RAT.”
The RAT Sterling Vermin is available immediately and retails for $349 USD. For moreinformation about this solution, visit: actentertainment.com/rat-distortion .
The Miku was introduced about 10 years ago and is based on the vocal stylings of Hatsune Miku, a virtual pop icon. But it does much more than artificial vowels and high-pitched words.
It’s tempting to think of this pedal as a joke. Don’t.
It all started a few years ago through a trade with a friend. I just wanted to help him out—he really wanted to get a fuzz pedal but didn’t have enough cash, so he offered up the Korg Miku. I had no idea then, but it turned out to be the best trade I’ve ever made.
Here’s the truth: the Korg Miku is not your typical guitar pedal. It won’t boost your mids, sculpt your gain, or serve up that warm, buttery overdrive you’ve always worshipped. Nope. This little box does something entirely different: It sings! Yes, sings in a Japanese kawaii accent that’s based on the signature voice of virtual pop icon Hatsune Miku.
At first glance, it’s tempting to dismiss this pedal as just a gimmick—a joke, a collector’s oddity, the kind of thing you buy for fun and then forget next to your Hello Kitty Strat. But here’s the twist: Some take it seriously and I’m one of those people.
I play in a punk band called Cakrux, and lately I’ve been working with a member of a Japanese idol-style girl group—yeah, it’s exactly the kind of wild mashup you’d ever imagine. Somewhere in the middle of that chaos, the Miku found its way into my setup, and weirdly enough, it stuck. It’s quirky, beautiful, occasionally maddening, and somehow … just right. After plenty of time spent in rehearsals, studio takes, and more sonic experiments than I care to admit, I’ve come to appreciate this pedal in unexpected ways. So here are a few things you probably didn’t know about this delightfully strange little box.
It’s Not Organic—and That’s OK
Most guitar pedals are chasing something real. Wah pedals mimic the human voice—or even a trumpet. Tube Screamers? They’re built to recreate the warm push of an overdriven tube amp. Cab sims aim to replicate the tone of real-world speaker setups. But the Miku? It breaks the mold. Instead of emulating reality, it channels the voice of a fictional pop icon. Hatsune Miku isn’t a person—she’s a vocaloid, a fully digital creation made of samples and synthesis. The Miku doesn’t try to sound organic, it tries to sound like her. In that sense, it might be the only pedal trying to reproduce something that never existed in the physical world. And honestly, there’s something oddly poetic about that.
A World-Class Buffer
Here’s a fun fact: I once saw a big-name Indonesian session guitarist—you know, the kind who plays in sold-out arenas—with a Miku pedal on his board. I was like, “No way this guy’s busting out vocaloid lines mid-solo.” Plot twist: He only uses it for the buffer. Yep, the man swears by it and says it’s the best-sounding buffer he’s ever plugged into. I laughed … until I tried it. And honestly? He’s not wrong. Even if you never hear Miku sing a note, this pedal still deserves a spot on your board. Just for the tone mojo alone. Wild, right?
“The Miku is one of those pedals that really shouldn’t work for your music, but somehow, it just does.”
Impossible to Tame
Most pedals are built to make your life easier. The Miku? Not so much. This thing demands patience—and maybe a little spiritual surrender. First off, the tracking can be finicky, especially if you’re using low-output pickups. Latency becomes really noticeable and your picking dynamics suddenly matter a lot more. Then there’s the golden rule I learned the hard way. Never—ever—put anything before the Miku. No fuzz, no wah, no compressor, not even a buffer! It gets confused instantly and says “What is going on here?” And don’t even think about punching in while recording. The vocal results are so unpredictable, you’ll never get the same sound twice. Mess up halfway? You’re starting from scratch. Same setup, same take, same chaotic energy. It’s like trying to recreate a fever dream. Good luck with that.
Full Range = Full Power
Sure, it’s made for guitar, but the Miku really comes to life when you run it through a keyboard amp, bass cab, or even a full-range speaker. Why? Because her voice covers way more frequency range than a regular guitar speaker can handle. Plug it into a PA system or a bass rig, and everything sounds clearer, richer, way more expressive. It’s like letting Hatsune Miku out of her cage.
The Miku is one of those pedals that really shouldn't work for your music, but somehow, it just does. Is it the best pedal out there? Nah. Is it practical? Not by a long shot. But every time I plug it in, I can’t help but smile. It’s unpredictable, a little wild, and it feels like you’re jamming in the middle of a bizarre Isekai anime scene. And honestly, that’s what makes it fun.
This thing used to go for less than $100. Now? It’s fetching many times that. Is it worth the price? That’s up to you. But for me, the Korg Miku isn’t just another pedal—it’s a strange, delightful journey I’m glad I didn’t skip. No regrets here.
Two guitars, two amps, and two people is all it takes to bring the noise.
The day before they played the coveted Blue Room at Third Man Records in Nashville, the Washington, D.C.-based garage-punk duo Teen Mortgage released their debut record, Devil Ultrasonic Dream. Not a bad couple of days for a young band.
PG’s Chris Kies caught up with guitarist and vocalist James Guile at the Blue Room to find out how he builds the band’s bombastic guitar attack.
Brought to you by D’Addario.
Devilish Dunable
Guile has been known to use Telecasters and Gretsches in the past, but this time out he’s sticking with this Dunable Cyclops DE, courtesy of Gwarsenio Hall—aka Jordan Olds of metal-themed comedy talk show Two Minutes to Late Night. Guile digs the Dunable’s lightness on his shoulders, and its balance of high and low frequencies.
Storm Warning
What does Guile like about this Squier Cyclone? Simple: its color. This one is also nice and easy on the back, and Guile picked it up from Atomic Music in Beltsville, Maryland.
Crushing It
Guile also scooped this Music Man 410-HD from Atomic, which he got just for this tour for a pretty sweet deal. It runs alongside an Orange Crush Bass 100 to rumble out the low end.
James Guile’s Pedalboard
The Electro-Harmonix Micro POG and Hiwatt Filter Fuzz MkII run to the Orange, while everything else—a DigiTech Whammy, Pro Co Lil’ RAT, and Death by Audio Echo Dream 2—runs to the Music Man. A TC Helicon Mic Mechanic is on board for vocal assistance, and a TC Electronic PolyTune 3, Morley ABY, and Voodoo Labs Pedal Power 3 Plus keep the ship afloat.