Gently undulating modulation and hard-choppin' tremolo come together in a harmonic trem with copious control options.
Lush, complex harmonic tremolo. Easy to shape extreme modulations into serviceable textures. Well-integrated gain control generates cool dirt tones and compression. Well built.
Controls can feel overly sensitive.
$259
JAM Pedals Harmonious Monk
jampedals.com
Harmonic tremolo deserves its own effect category—perhaps one without "tremolo" in the name at all. Harmonic tremolo (which modulates bass and treble frequencies separately before recombining them to very wobbly ends) and amplitude tremolo, (which attenuates volume at various rates) sound like siblings in many settings. At low effect levels, casual listeners might have trouble discerning a difference.
In more prominent settings, however, harmonic tremolo is audibly more fluid and full of breath. Because there is no volume attenuation, it colors and fills the spaces between modulation peaks while achieving many of the same animating sensations as tremolo. Its essentially less-choppy voice makes it well suited for complex chord voicings and slide. And it also enables you to color your tone with a light touch of phase—an effect that typically reads as pretty heavy handed.
JAM Pedals' Harmonious Monk delves deep into the possibilities of harmonic tremolo textures, with controls that enable extra-fine tuning of rate, intensity, effect mix, output volume, and even the EQ makeup of the modulation. But it's also equipped with a very fine amplitude tremolo mode, which means you don't have to commit to a single tremolo style—or two tremolo pedals. If you like really digging for unusual or specific tremolo textures, you'll love the Harmonious Monk's power to shape them.
Straight, Many Chasers
JAM designed the Harmonious Monk with input from Dan Steinhardt and Mick Taylor from YouTube's That Pedal Show. Given the collective enthusiasm for pedal minutiae among that crew, it's little wonder that the Monk is built for hyper-precise modulation shaping. The depth, speed, output level, and effects-mix controls each have extensive ranges, are pretty sensitive, and are interactive. When you're just getting to know the pedal—or just into an intuitive, fast-moving workflow—that range and sensitivity can make the controls feel vague and induce option fatigue, particularly when you add in the very cool speed-doubling and LFO intensity switches to the mix. But once you get the feel for a few favorite settings, the extra control can feel as satisfying as a fine-tipped paintbrush.
While the Monk's most classic sounds are luxurious enough to keep you rapt for hours, it can be instructive to explore backwards from its most extreme settings. And many of the sounds that make the Monk extra fun and unique are found there.
The extra control can feel as satisfying as a fine-tipped paintbrush.
Super-low modulation rates mated to the more intense LFO and heavy depth settings yield hypnotic phase variations that strike a perfect balance between presence and mystery at lower mix levels. You can further soften the pulse of these slow modulations by adding gain from the output level, which very seamlessly compresses the peakiest parts of the modulation wave and conjures some of the pedal's most cohesive and swirlingly heavy sounds.
Savory Swell
The Monk's most vintage-hued and user-friendly sounds are generally situated with the depth and speed somewhere between 10 and 2 o'clock. These modulations most effectively realize harmonic tremolo's lovely capacity for bridging the heartbeat pulse of bias and optical tremolo and the doppler-ish swirl of a rotary speaker or phaser. They are silky, complex, and a joy to get lost in. But the mix, output level gain, and LFO intensity switch invite and enable many hip variations on these sounds. Here, too, the gain from the level control has a beautiful compressing effect that makes the modulation waves more elastic and cohesive.
The Monk's amplitude tremolo is beautiful as well. Nuances like finger vibrato and pitch bends shine more clearly through these modulations. And the hard pulses you can create with heavy mix and depth settings can generate thumping rhythm hooks if you have a steady strumming hand. There's also many familiar black-panel Fender-style tremolo textures on tap when a song calls for more straight-ahead and streamlined modulation.
Both tremolos, by the way, benefit enormously from the Monk's three internal trim pots, with which you can regulate treble, mid, and bass EQ settings. Heavy bass settings, in particular, can really change the feel of the modulation—yielding super-deep pulses than can be used creatively in song arrangement and mixing.
The Verdict
The Monk excels at the kind of subtle modulation that can near-subliminally animate and enliven simple and complex guitar phrases alike. But it can also create intense undulating textures that can completely re-cast a dull riff into a song-defining hook. The sensitive controls—and the extent to which they sometimes seem to overlap in function—can lead you down rabbit holes. Generally, though, the pedal's depth of control is an asset that makes the Harmonious Monk a potentially invaluable performance, studio, and songwriting tool.
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The accomplished guitarist and teacher’s new record, like her lifestyle, is taut and exciting—no more, and certainly no less, than is needed.
Molly Miller, a self-described “high-energy person,” is fully charged by the crack of dawn. When Ischeduled our interview, she opted for the very first slot available—8:30 a.m.—just before her 10 a.m. tennis match!
Miller has a lot on her plate. In addition to gigs leading the Molly Miller Trio, she also plays guitar in Jason Mraz’s band, and teaches at her alma mater, the University of Southern California (USC), where, after a nine-year stint, she earned her bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate in music. In 2022, she became a professor of studio guitar at USC. Prior to that, she was the chair of the guitar department at the Los Angeles College of Music.
Molly Miller's Gear
Miller plays a fair bit of jazz, but considers herself simply a guitarist first: “Why do I love the guitar? Because I discovered Jimi Hendrix.”
Photo by Anna Azarov
Guitars
- 1978 Gibson ES-335
- Fender 1952 Telecaster reissue with a different neck and a bad relic job (purchased from Craigslist)
- Gibson Les Paul goldtop with P-90s
Amps
- Benson Nathan Junior
- Benson Monarch
- Fender Princeton Reverb Reissue (modified to “widen sound”)
Effects
- Chase Bliss Audio Dark World
- Chase Bliss Audio Warped Vinyl
- EarthQuaker Devices Dispatch Master
- EarthQuaker Devices Dunes
- EarthQuaker Devices Special Cranker
- JAM Pedals Wahcko
- JAM Pedals Ripply Fall
- Strymon Flint
- Fulltone Clyde Wah
- Line 6 Helix (for touring)
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball .011s for ES-335 and Les Paul
- Ernie Ball .0105s for Telecaster
- Fender Celluloid Confetti 351 Heavy Picks
To get things done, Miller has had to rely on a laser-focused approach to time management. “I’ve always kind of been juggling different aspects of my career. I was in grad school, getting a doctorate, TA-ing full time—so, teaching probably 20 hours a week, and then also doing probably four or five gigs a week, and getting a degree,” explains Miller. “I had to figure out how to create habits of, ‘I really want to play a lot of guitar, and gig a lot, but I also need to finish my degree and make extra money teaching, and I also want to practice.’ There’s a certain level of organization and thinking ahead that I always feel like I have to be doing.”
“The concept of the Molly Miller Trio—and also a part of my playing—is we are playing songs, we are bringing back the instrumental, we are thinking about the arrangement.”
The Molly Miller Trio’s latest release, The Battle of Hotspur, had its origins during the pandemic. Miller and bassist Jennifer Condos started writing the songs in March 2020, sending files back and forth to each other. They finally finished writing the album’s last song, “Head Out,” in December 2021, and four months later, recorded the album in just two days. The 12-song collection is subtle and cool, meandering like a warm, sparkling country river through a backwoods county. The arrangements feel spacious and distinctly Western—Miller’s guitar lines are clean and clear and dripped with just the right level of reverb, trem, and chorus, while Jay Bellerose’s brush-led percussion trots alongside like a trusty steed.
The Battle of Hotspur has a live feel, and that aspect was 100-percent deliberate. Miller says, “That’s the exact intention of our records—we want to create a record that we can play live. Jason Wormer, the recording and mixing engineer that did our record, came to a show of ours and was like, ‘This is incredible.’ He’s recorded so many records and was like, ‘This is the first time I’ve ever recorded a record that sounds the same live.’ And that was our exact intention. Because I feel like [the goal of] the trio itself was to be full. It’s not supposed to be like, ‘Oh, let’s put saxophone and let’s put keys and other guitars on it.’ The concept of the record is a full trio like the way Booker T. & the M.G.’s were. It’s not, ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if you added another instrument?’ No, we’re an instrumental trio.”
Musicality is what separates Miller from the rest of the pack. She has prodigious chops but uses them appropriately, when it makes musical sense, and her ability to honor a song’s written melody and bring it to life is one of her strong suits. “That’s a huge part of what we do,” she says. “The concept of the Molly Miller Trio—and also a part of my playing—is we are playing songs, we are bringing back the instrumental, we are thinking about the arrangement. The solo is a vehicle to further the story, to further the song, not just for me to shred. So often, you play a song, and you could be playing the solo over any song. There’s not enough time spent talking about how to play a melody convincingly, and then play a solo that’s connected to the melody.... Whether it’s a pop song, an original, or a standard, how you’re playing it is everything, and not just how you’re shredding over it.”
Miller still gets pigeonholed by expectations in the music industry, including the assumption that she’s a singer-songwriter: “I don’t sing. I’m a fucking guitar player.”
Photo by Anna Azarov
Miller’s strong sense of melody can be traced to her diverse palette of influences. Even though she’s a “jazzer” by definition, she’ll cover pop songs like the Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do is Dream” and the Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.” Miller says, “I spent nine years in jazz school. I practice ‘Giant Steps’ still for fun because I think it’s good for my guitar playing. But it was a release to be like, ‘I am not just a jazz guitar player at all!’ Why do I love the guitar? Because I discovered Jimi Hendrix, right? What made me feel things in high school? Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, and No Doubt. It’s like, Grant Green’s not why I play the guitar.
“I play jazz guitar, but I’m a guitar player that loves jazz. What do I put on my playlist? It’s not like I just listen to Wes Montgomery. I go from Wes Montgomery to the Beach Boys to freakin’ Big Thief to Bob Dylan to Dave Brubeck. The musicians I love are people who tell stories and have something to say—Brian Wilson, Cat Stevens.... They’re amazing songwriters.”
“Whether it’s a pop song, an original, or a standard, how you’re playing it is everything, and not just how you’re shredding over it.”
Despite a successful career, Miller continually faces sexism in the industry. “I went to a guitar hang two days ago. It was a big company, and they invited me to come and check out guitars. And I’m playing—I clearly know how to play the instrument—and this photographer there is like, ‘Oh, so are you a singer?’ And I’m just like, ‘No, I don’t sing. Fuck you,’” recalls Miller. “It’s such an internal struggle because of the interactions I have with the world. This kind of gets this thing in me where I feel like I need to prove to people, like, I am a guitar player. And at this point, I know I’m established enough. I play the guitar, and I know how to play it. I’m good, whatever. There still is this ego portion that I’m constantly fighting, and it comes from random people walking up to me and asking about me playing acoustic guitar and my singer-songwriter career or whatever. And I’m like, ‘I don’t sing. I’m a fucking guitar player.’”
YouTube It
Molly Miller gets to both tour with and open up for Jason Mraz’s band. Here’s a taste of Miller leading into Mraz’s set with some adeptly and intuitively performed riffs from a show in July 2022.
Our columnist shares the benefits of recording those moments where you’re just improvising and experimenting with ideas. If you make a practice of it, you’re more likely to strike gold.
Welcome back to another Dojo. To date, I’ve somehow managed to write over 50-plus articles and never once addressed the importance of recording your experimentations and early rehearsals in the studio (and of course, your live performances as well). Mea culpa!
This time, I’d like to pay homage to one of my greatest teachers and espouse the joy of recording the unedited, “warts-and-all,” part of the creative process. Don’t worry, you’re still beautiful!
Many times, early in the experimental development of riffs and songs, there are episodes where you simply play something that’s magical or particularly ear-catching—all without effort or forethought. It’s those moments when your ego has somehow dozed off in the backseat and your “higher power” takes over (for a moment, a minute, or more) before the ego jerks the wheel back and lets out a white-knuckled scream of sheer terror.
These are the “What was that?!” time gaps that you often wish you had been recording, because it’s usually these moments we frantically chase down by memory so we can capture them again—often with diluted results, where we’re left with a pallid approximation of what occurred.
Here’s another common scenario. As you work your way through developing rhythms and melodies, there are many gems that fall by the wayside because they don’t exactly fit the prevailing emotional ethos at the time. Without recording them in real time, these nuggets may be forever lost in the creative cosmos.
Both examples are coming from the same sacred place, where we give ourselves permission to try new things and step outside our ingrained, habitual patterns of composing and playing.
“It’s usually these moments we frantically chase down by memory so we can capture them again—often with diluted results.”
For several years I had the good fortune to study with one of the great maestros of jazz guitar, Joe Diorio. Simply put, he was the Yoda of jazz guitar for me and influenced many great players over the years through his virtuosity, creativity, and mystical improvisations.
One of the things we used to do on a regular basis was what he called “gestural playing.” Meaning, we would try and copy the rhythmic and melodic contour of musical passages we’d never heard before. Often, it wasn’t jazz, but world music, where the goal was to condense a symphonic work down to be playable on solo guitar (Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, Lutosławski’s Symphony No. 1, etc.). The point wasn’t note accuracy, but gestural similarity and committing to the emotion it invoked. Inevitably, it led both of us to play something unplanned, and jump-started our creativity—stumbling upon diamonds in the rough just waiting to be polished and cut.
There were always “Oh, that was cool! What was that?!” moments, and as we were recording a lesson, we could stop and play back the licks to investigate further. These examinations, in turn, led to other licks, and before we knew it, we had pages full of new melodic material to digest that all started from simple gestures.
To hear this process in action, listen to the bridge section of my song “Making the Faith,” into the guitar solo starting around 2:22. There are lots of odd meters and modulations that lead to a very gestural-inspired solo. Just to pique your interest even further, the chorus’ words are also gestural, and they form an acrostic puzzle that reveals a hidden message that I’ll leave you to figure out.
What I’d really like to do is to encourage you to try this the next time you are feeling creative, and, hopefully, on your next recording. With computers having more and more storage and hard-drive prices ever falling, there’s no excuse to not try the following:
1. Open your DAW and get a drum groove going.
2. Create a guitar track and allow yourself to simply improvise and make gestures for an open-ended period of time.
3. Afterwards, go back and listen.
4. Highlight the moments that pique your interest, and finally....
5. Compile these moments into a new track by mixing them up into edited “mini gestures.”
6. Listen to the results.
This type of experimentation will definitely lead you into new musical territory and then you can start to add harmonic implications, as well as refine things along the way.
Until next time, namaste.
The low-end groove-master—who’s worked with Soul Coughing, Fiona Apple, and Iron & Wine—shares some doses of wisdom.
Umpty-ump years ago, at the beginning of my music magazine career, I conducted my first ever interview. It was with bassist Sebastian Steinberg of Soul Coughing, and I was excited to be talking to half of the rhythm section powerhouse behind this avant-rock, sounds-like-nothing-else quartet.
Think weird samples, colliding harmonies, and half-sung boho poetry, all over some seriously sick grooves, with Steinberg driving the bus to Beelzebub with his thick upright tone and funky feel.
“In the middle of every groove, there’s the stupid part,” he told me then, drawing my attention to, as an example, the steady high-hat part in Sly & the Family Stone’s “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin).” If a groove makes your head nod, he said, “there’s something absolutely idiotic weaving its way down the middle.” As a bass player, he cautioned: “Sometimes you’re it.”
This idea stuck with me over the years, so I thought I’d see what Sebastian was up to. I caught him at a good time. After three well-received albums in the ’90s, Soul Coughing went their separate ways, and Steinberg went on to play both upright and electric with a variety of artists, including several that he describes as “fearlessly original.” That’s him on Fiona Apple’s acclaimed pandemic release, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, as well as singer-songwriter Iron & Wine’s latest album, Light Verse. This summer he’s touring Europe in a trio with drummer Matt Chamberlain and pianist Diana Krall (who didn’t want to play with “jazz guys”), and in the fall, he’s hitting the road with a reunited Soul Coughing.
I asked what it was about his approach that appeals to certain artists. “I like to play songs,” he answered. “But I have a musical curiosity and I can throw in my own ideas. My hands tend to be the smartest part of my body, so I can follow where the music leads.”
Steinberg says Fiona Apple’s 2020 record, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, “surpasses anything I’ve ever been involved in.”
Interestingly, when Sebastian started working at different points with Apple, Iron & Wine, and Krall, all three artists asked him not to listen to their previous albums. They wanted to create something new, current, and genuine, rather than, as Sebastian puts it, “trying to do stuff that’s already happened.”
“I’m not the bass player for everyone, which I’m really delighted to discover,” Steinberg continued. “But I’ve been sort of working out that there is a place for me. I’ve always been drawn to music that tends to ruffle feathers rather than smooth them. I gravitate towards people who are really strong individual thinkers, sometimes very much at the cost of their convenience, comfort, and public opinion. But the music is real. When musicians are real with each other, they’re as real as it gets.”
Sebastian describes the making of Fetch the Bolt Cutters as this kind of very real, exceptional experience. “It surpasses anything I’ve ever been involved in, including Soul Coughing,” he says. “I haven’t made an album so true, where nothing like this music has existed before, since Soul Coughing’s first album,” he said, referring to 1994’s Ruby Vroom. “Both albums were alive, unfettered, and truly unexplored territory.”
Fiona put the band together in 2016, inviting Steinberg, drummer Amy Aileen Wood, and multi-instrumentalist David Garza. “The four of us would go to the house, stomp around, sing in a chant she’d made up, and literally play like children or birds. After a while, songs began appearing. By the time we started going into the studio, we’d developed a level of trust and intimacy with each other, because we’d been playing in this non-specific but very personal way together. It's the most powerful band I’ve ever been in.”
“There are so many ways to approach music that transcend what the instrument was built to do. But you should know what it was built to do, because that’s a great job. It’s the best seat in the house.”
Sebastian notes that you do have to balance this kind of boldness with musical functionality. “Bass is a function, not an instrument,” he says. “There are so many ways to approach music that transcend what the instrument was built to do. But you should know what it was built to do, because that’s a great job. It’s the best seat in the house.”
So how does one go about getting real? “It’s about getting out of the way of whatever niceties musicians tend to inflict on each other,” he says. “You have to overcome fear and let the truth speak. Find the music and play it. Don’t bring your ego into it, but don’t let somebody scare you off from the music. And if you believe in what you’re doing, stick to it.”
A note of clarification
Last month’s column was about playing style, with Funkadelic bassist Billy Bass Nelson as an example. However, the magazine was already off to the printer when I finally connected with Nelson after several attempts. He told me that he did not play with a pick on Fred Wesley’s “Half A Man,” but often used his fingernails to get a similar attack. He also suggested two other songs that exemplify his style: Parlet’s 1978 track “Love Amnesia,” and the Temptations’ 1975 single “Shakey Ground.”
A brand-new YouTube series telling the 400-year-old story of the D’Addario family and how they created the world’s largest music accessories company.
This series features Jim D'Addario, Founder and Director of Innovation at D'Addario and Co., sharing his family's remarkable journey from 17th-century Italy to a 21st-century global enterprise.
In the first four episodes, available now, Jim D'Addario takes viewers back to the beginning, from making strings from animal guts, to knotting ukulele wire as a family around the television. Jim recounts the creation of strings that inspired legendary riffs, including one by The Who, the launch of Darco strings, the merger with Martin Guitars and the company’s humble beginnings with his wife, Janet and brother, John. Jim D'Addario's firsthand accounts provide an intimate and personal perspective on the milestones and challenges that shaped D'Addario into the brand it is today.
How D'Addario Invented The Modern Guitar String | Jim's Corner Ep. #1
Episode Highlights:
- Episode 1: The Early Days in Italy and the Move to America
- Episode 2: Inspiring Iconic Riffs and Legendary Partnerships
- Episode 3: Launching Darco Strings and Merging with Martin Guitars
- Episode 4: Building the D'Addario and Co. Legacy