The Bass
When I purchased it, it was an utter disaster. It had suffered from years of neglect and experimentation by ham-fisted wannabe luthiers. At first glance, I could determine a clay dot neck and not much more. Before it was for sale, I made the assessment that it was a 1960 neck and body with all-1970s parts. That proved to be correct. The body had been stripped, but whoever did it hadn’t altered any cavities or contours—it was as cut by the factory. The original finish is in all the cavities and the 9/60 pencil date is clear and vibrant. A very long time ago, though, the worst refin I’ve ever seen was performed on this bass. Nothing was removed, not the covers, strings, pickguard or anything. Someone just painted around them. The finish looks like it was applied by a rogue member of the Homer Formby Conservatory after a weekend bender. The barn-door-red stain is like nothing I’ve ever seen before (or hope to see again). The four mute holes are undisturbed, and the body still has the exterior ground wire routing.
The neck had been stripped of its finish a million years ago, but it was sent for a refinish in something that makes ‘70s Fender “thick skin” look like worn nitrocellulose. This concoction was professionally applied. The 8/60 neck date was preserved, but the logo is long gone.This finish has roughly the same sleek feel as a snow globe after kids eating peppermint sticks have played with it. The neck was attached to the body via its original neck plate. The four attachment screws, oy vey! They were slot head decking screws, but they were the right size, and they appear to be marine grade. The nut is missing under the E and A strings—with matchbook covers as a substitute. The frets have not been serviced since Al Kaline was a Tiger, and not a battery in your stompbox. A major grind and polish are in store.
The parts also were as I expected. Every stitch of hardware and electronics came from a 1974 Jazz Bass. I plugged the bass into an amp and got lots of really bad noise. I sprayed out the pots and they started oozing what looked to be syrup. This was the result of damp storage and grease—someone had lubed the pots with petroleum jelly. These pots are now trash. I hooked the pickups up to my multimeter and found that the tail pickup read open coil and the neck pickup had all the windings torn.
The Dilemma
Functionally, the bass was a disaster. The electronics needed to be made useable, the neck needed a new nut, and the frets needed to be cleaned up. I wanted the bass to be playable. The question was whether I should restore it or leave it alone.
Every purist I spoke to said, “Make it playable and leave it as is.” I wanted to do some homework. The former owner of the bass was famous, however the bass was not. It was an electric bass in the arsenal of a doghouse player and seemed to serve as a guest bass or for very occasional use. Don’t get me wrong, this bass was loved. I have documentation that says Stanley Clarke was on this bass. After talking this through with others, pleading with my conscience and making an educated judgment, I decided to fully restore the bass—I may be going against common sense, but Jerry Barnes told me Uncle Bookie probably would have restored it too.
So who would do the work? Luckily, I had a mostly complete set of hardware from a 1961 stacker Jazz Bass. The ’61 pickups I have are blown, so I’ll have them rewound. The finish work was a difficult choice, since I work with many great refinishers. I went with Krishna Jain of Guitar Garage in Massachusetts. Krishna knows basses really well, his finishes are superb and his turnaround time is amazing. I was debating between Fiesta Red and Olympic White, but after a long talk with Krishna and Matt Brewster of 30th Street Guitars and Rust Guitars, I decided to go with Olympic White. Matt is my voodoo-guru of all things to be repaired. He will do the mechanical restoration and a Rust Guitar-style mild relic’ing. This bass will return to its original glory as a 1960 stack-knob Jazz Bass. When I paid Buddy Williams for the bass, I promised him I would provide this bass with a good home, standing right next to my Gold Guard P-basses and my slab board J-basses.
The Low Down
It’s been a glorious adventure, definitely a pinnacle moment of my career. I’m flattered that I was asked to be the purchaser of this bass, and humbled too. The opportunity was afforded in part because of the credibility I’ve gained by having this column—so I guess I owe all my readers a big “thank you” too (but no, you cannot borrow the bass). Until next time, drop the gig bag and bring the cannoli.
Kevin Borden
Kevin Borden has been a bass player since 1975 and is currently the principle and co-owner, with “Dr.” Ben Sopranzetti, of Kebo’s Bass Works: kebosbassworks.com. He can be reached at: Kebobass@yahoo.com. Feel free to call him KeBo.
Truetone 1 Spot Pro XP5-PS 5-output Low-profile Isolated Guitar Pedal Power Supply
The XP5-PS is a package containing the 1 Spot Pro XP5, along with a 12Vdc 2.5A adapter, which allows you to power the XP5 without having a CS11. The adapter comes with an array of international plugs so that you can take it with your pedalboard anywhere in the world. Some musicians may even choose to get one of these, plus another XP5, to distribute their power around the pedalboard and have the dual XP5s acting as two pedal risers.
Reverend Vernon Reid Totem Series Electric Guitar - Shaman
Silos features six presets, tap tempo, one full second of delay time, and three voices—two of which are styled after bucket-brigade and tape-delay sounds. In the $150 price category, it’s not unusual for a digital delay to leave some number of those functions out. And spending the same money on a true-analog alternative usually means warm, enveloping sounds but limited functionality and delay time. Silos, improbably perhaps, offers a very elegant solution to this can’t-have-it-all dilemma in a U.S.-made effect.
A More Complete Cobbling Together
Silos’ utility is bolstered by a very unintimidating control set, which is streamlined and approachable. Three of those controls are dedicated to the same mix, time, and repeats controls you see on any delay. But saving a preset to one of the six spots on the rotary preset dial is as easy as holding the green/red illuminated button just below the mix and preset knobs. And you certainly won’t get lost in the weeds if you move to the 3-position toggle, which switches between a clear “digital” voice, darker “analog” voice, and a “tape” voice which is darker still.
“The three voices offer discernibly different response to gain devices.”
One might suspect that a tone control for the repeats offers similar functionality as the voice toggle switch. But while it’s true that the most obvious audible differences between digital, BBD, and tape delays are apparent in the relative fidelity and darkness of their echoes, the Silos’ three voices behave differently in ways that are more complex than lighter or duskier tonality. For instance, the digital voice will never exhibit runaway oscillation, even at maximum mix and repeat settings. Instead, repeats fade out after about six seconds (at the fastest time settings) or create sleepy layers of slow-decaying repeats that enhance detail in complex, sprawling, loop-like melodic phrases. The analog voice and tape voice, on the other hand, will happily feed back to psychotic extremes. Both also offer satisfying sensitivity to real-time, on-the-fly adjustments. For example, I was tickled with how I could generate Apocalypse Now helicopter-chop effects and fade them in and out of prominence as if they were approaching or receding in proximity—an effect made easier still if you assign an expression pedal to the mix control. This kind of interactivity is what makes analog machines like the Echoplex, Space Echo, and Memory Man transcend mere delay status, and the sensitivity and just-right resistance make the process of manipulating repeats endlessly engaging.
Doesn't Flinch at Filth
EarthQuaker makes a point of highlighting the Silos’ affinity for dirty and distorted sounds. I did not notice that it behaved light-years better than other delays in this regard. But the three voices most definitely offer discernibly different responses to gain devices. The super-clear first repeat in the digital mode lends clarity and melodic focus, even to hectic, unpredictable, fractured fuzzes. The analog voice, which EQD says is inspired by the tone makeup of a 1980s-vintage, Japan-made KMD bucket brigade echo, handles fuzz forgivingly inasmuch as its repeats fade warmly and evenly, but the strong midrange also keeps many overtones present as the echoes fade. The tape voice, which uses aMaestro Echoplex as its sonic inspiration, is distinctly dirtier and creates more nebulous undercurrents in the repeats. If you want to retain clarity in more melodic settings, it will create a warm glow around repeats at conservative levels. Push it, and it will summon thick, sometimes droning haze that makes a great backdrop for slower, simpler, and hooky psychedelic riffs.
In clean applications, this decay and tone profile lend the tape setting a spooky, foggy aura that suggests the cold vastness of outer space. The analog voice often displays an authentic BBD clickiness in clean repeats that’s sweet for underscoring rhythmic patterns, while the digital voice’s pronounced regularity adds a clockwork quality that supports more up-tempo, driving, electronic rhythms.
The Verdict
Silos’ combination of features seems like a very obvious and appealing one. But bringing it all together at just less than 150 bucks represents a smart, adept threading of the cost/feature needle.
EarthQuaker Devices Silos Multi-generational Time Reflection Delay Pedal
