Take care of your pedals by giving them the power they deserve.
A heavy-duty, isolated power supply that costs $200 to $250? Nah, I’ll just find a cheap off-brand one on Amazon. But a $450 point-to-point, 2-knob fuzz pedal? Heck yeah!
I’ve been going on rants in the shop lately about pedalboard rigs that feature expensive effects pedals but are powered by inexpensive and less-than-desirable power supplies. Why would this scenario ever show itself? My hypothesis comes down to “allure.” By this, I mean that power supplies, compared to pedals, aren’t exactly exciting. They’re not something that we get to use artistically. We don’t pine for them or get to create with them. It’s not a reverb pedal that you become immersed in for hours on end. It’s not a delay pedal that lets you tap the tempo with your foot and set subdivisions on. I doubt anyone has ever exclaimed, “I got this new power brick and it inspired three new songs in the studio!”
So why aren’t power supplies more intriguing to us, especially with all these new ones that feature switch-mode power, variable voltage outputs, and extensions for linking additional power bricks? I would say that it is due to the fact that they are inherently a utility device. Much like a buffer or tuner, they serve a foundational purpose, as opposed to a creative one. (I would like to point out that those buffer and tuner pedals are at the mercy of the power supply.)
I imagine a lot of us have experienced a noisy pedal in some aspect or another, such as something digital with a high-current draw, or a pedal with a clock (like a delay or chorus). In my tenure, I’ve fielded a good amount of emails from customers about this exact thing, in particular our Triplegraph and Polaris—the former a high-current, DSP device and the latter a BBD chorus. Most email inquiries come in because of noise issues, of which 95 percent are diagnosed as suffering from a bad power supply or wall wart and are then remedied with a superior power unit.
The poor quality power-supply or daisy-chain pedalboard rigs are still running amok in the effects pedal world. The power supply is the lifeblood of the pedalboard, so it’s strange to see high-quality, personally picked, meticulously crafted signal chains being held back by weak power bricks.
“I doubt anyone has ever exclaimed, ‘I got this new power brick and it inspired three new songs in the studio!’”
Let’s play out a scenario to give some perspective and illustrate the point that I’ve been driving at. Let’s say the average pedal is $150. (I think this may be a bit low, but I’m trying to incorporate affordable boost pedals and utility pedals, as well as more expensive digital units.) Now, let’s say the average pedalboard consists of eight pedals. The total cost of the pedals on that board is $1,200. A quick Amazon search for pedal power supplies yields a $40 supply. If you showed up to practice with that, there’s a good chance nothing would be said. Conversely, if you showed up with a $1,200 guitar and a $40 amp, you’re almost guaranteed to catch some glances and draw some questions.
I’m firmly aware that not everyone’s pockets are the same and that a lot of us have to choose our purchasing battles wisely. This kind of goes back to the “alluring” piece of gear winning out over the utility piece.
I’d like to expand on the $1,200 board scenario. I’ve been building pedalboard rigs on the side for about five years now. Pretty much all pedalboards that I build either meet or exceed that $1,200 value. When suggesting a power supply to install in these rigs, I reference bricks from a few manufacturers, usually Truetone, Voodoo Lab, and Strymon—Cioks also makes great options. All of these companies make power supplies that could efficiently power that hypothetical board filled with eight pedals. Let’s take the most expensive supply among the three manufacturers’ products, priced at $279. That power supply for your $1,200 pedalboard would be about 23 percent of the cost of all eight pedals.
Most gear in our music world, including power supplies, falls into that retail razor: “Buy nice, or buy twice.”
Featuring a 12AX7 tube, 3-band EQ, and true bypass switch, this pedal is designed to deliver versatile tone control and stage-worthy durability.
"We chose to base our pedal on one of the best tube-driven bass amps ever made, the AD200B. From full, powerful cleans to beautiful harmonic break up to full out fuzz this pedal covers it all. To build a true amp in a box we run a 12AX7 tube at 250vdc, full tube amp voltage, and use MalloryMl50 and Silver Mica signal capacitors just like you would see in a real, high-end tube amp."
- 3 Band EQ for total tone control
- True Bypass on/ off switch
- 9-volt operation with standard DC input
- Solid aluminum housing for stage-worthy durability
The Blood Orange has a street price of $355 CAD with a JJ 12AX7 tube included or$325 CAD if you have your own stash of tubes. The pedal can be purchased directly atweethunderamps.com with free shipping on all pedal orders.
For more information, please visit weethunderamps.com.
Blood Orange Bass PreAmp/Overdrive Pedal
A well-ordered and intuitive means to octave fuzz disorder, in many shapes and colors.
Great basic, focused fuzz tone. Intuitive if you’re open-minded. Lots of surprises. Nice design. High-quality construction.
None
$225
Death By Audio Octave Clang
deathbyaudio.com
Every instrument is a tool for expressing feeling. But when you have to convey a certain range of emotions spanning anguish, the rush of sonic anarchy, and the exhilaration of total liberation, octave fuzzes are tops. Generally speaking, octave fuzz isn’t an effect you use casually.
And it often leads to hairy places where you are forced to surrender control. But if you have something to say with an electric guitar and you want to punctuate it with an exclamation point, adding octave fuzz can do the trick. Need further convincing? Kick back, close your eyes, listen to Jimi’s “Machine Gun,” and get back to me.
It’s little surprise that Death By Audio, with its well-documented love of extreme and perverse sounds, would dabble in octave distortion. What’s a wonder is that DBA ever discontinued its own excellent take on the effect, the Octave Clang. There’s no need to mourn any longer, though. The Octave Clang is back. And it’s as thrillingly chaotic and—yes—as practical as ever.
Space Station Salvage
I try to avoid saying much about how pedals look. Unless you’re collecting them to display on your mantle, it’s sound that counts. Admittedly, DBA has my number when it comes to their graphics and control layouts—appearing, as they do, like a cross of ’70s-synth and conceptual automotive and aerospace design from the same period. That may not mean much to you, but I feel extra compelled to unleash when I see the Clang staring back at me from the floor. It looks awesome.
“It has mass and spiky character, and does a great job of suggesting the brutish, switchblade attitude of ’60s fuzz circuits while staying in its lane in a mix.”
The control set is simple. One footswitch bypasses the pedal or brings in the gain section without the octave-up effect. The second footswitch adds the octave. You cannot operate the octave effect alone. The two leftmost knobs are for output level and gain (which DBA claims can be as much as an extra 39 dB). The third is the shape control, which controls a pre-gain tilt EQ that enables a lot of control in a relatively forgiving way—no small consideration when you’re messing with an effect that can sound so hot and hectic.
Fizz, Spittle, and Valkyrie’s Screams
The fuzz side of the circuit is idiosyncratic and thrilling, if you like variations on snarling first- and second-generation ’60s fuzzes. It’s not an easy fuzz to characterize. It doesn’t have the porcine megatonnage of DBA’s Fuzz War. And because it has to dovetail with the octave side of the circuit, it doesn’t billow with the overtone content and sustain you would hear even in simple ’60s fuzzes like the Fuzz Face, Bosstone, Tone Bender, or Fuzzrite. Nevertheless, it has mass and spiky character and does a great job of suggesting the brutish, switchblade attitude of those ’60s circuits while staying in its lane in a mix. Studio rats may treasure it for that reason. And because fundamental notes sound so strong and relatively uncluttered, it’s also really cool for trashy but succinct sub-Stooges power chording. I’d be psyched to have this fuzz circuit alone.
Adding the octave expands the Octave Clang’s tonal palette, of course. It’s easy to set up ferocious octave fuzz sounds that work for sawing power chords and Hendrix fare. But it also shifts the tactile responsiveness of the pedal and your guitar—often demanding a rethink of your picking approach and the fretboard—that can spawn creative results. When you set the EQ, gain, and output settings on the counterclockwise side of noon and use the octave and fuzz together, picking at points close to the bridge generates almost ring-modulated and metallic Martian gamelan sounds not unlike first-gen octave fuzzes like the Ampeg Scrambler and Green Ringer. But the Octave Clang’s pre-gain tilt EQ control and the many cool ways it interacts with the gain knob and your guitar’s dials make the Clang capable of many weirder, more mysterious shades of these already odd and arresting sounds. Switching guitars can create radically different tones, too. The concise sustain I can get from a semi-hollow Rickenbacker, for instance, activates the pedal and the resulting overtones in a very different way than a Stratocaster or SG, whose different overtone profiles excite different aspects of the pedal’s response envelope.
The Verdict
If you have an appetite for new distortion and fuzz sounds that can totally transform a hook or mood, the very simple-looking Octave Clang offers a trove of possibilities. Though I have gleefully described many of the device’s deviant capacities, neither these accounts nor Death By Audio’s reputation as noise merchants should dissuade you from approaching the Octave Clang as a very practical and unique option for fuzz and distortion tones. Psych-punk chording can take on new, more feral energy. And otherwise boneheaded hooks can become ear candy. Experimentally minded musicians, producers, and engineers with a willingness to dig a bit will find many such surprises in the well-designed, well-built, and well-executed Octave Clang.