Montreal’s Fish Circuits, helmed by builder Mike Poisson, has made quite a splash the past few years with colorful offerings like the Model One, Lunatique, and most recently the Astronomie, a dynamic reverb that can swell in and out depending on settings and playing style. Fish Circuits’ first delay, the Echo Limiteur, comes in a characteristically sleek box that, like all their others, could be used as a bludgeon. But with an analog delay, a second digital delay, and a limiter, its utility as a tool for defense pales in comparison to the sounds its circuitry produces.
Swell Set Of Features
The Echo Limiteur consists of two delay modes, swell A and swell B. Swell A is a straightforward delay channel, governed just by the global echo and blend knobs and the range switch. The last of these shortens or lengthens the delay-time range of the echo control. “Hi” gives you longer delay times (up to 1150 milliseconds) and slightly cleaner repeats courtesy of the digital PT2399 chip, while “Lo” gives you lower-fidelity repeats and a shorter sweep of possible delay times (up to 650 milliseconds). Both swell A and swell B knobs control the number of repeats.
The limiter affects the swell B mode alone. It limits the delay feedback and can be triggered dynamically by the dry signal, wet signal, or both. This effectively means you can use infinite repeats that won’t overpower your dry sound and/or infinite repeats that reset each time you pick a note or chord. The release switch tells the limiter how quickly to lay off the limiting, while the trigger lets you decide whether a dry, wet, or combined signal activates the limiter. Limit, meanwhile, controls the sensitivity of the trigger: All the way counter-clockwise, it’s nearly non-existent, while fully clockwise, the slightest noise in your signal will trigger the limiter, chopping the repeats. All three controls are extremely interdependent.
Got it? Probably not. You have to physically experience the responses of each of these features to really grasp how they manipulate the signal. And there will be some who wish the Echo Limiteur’s switch-controlled functions were more deeply tweakable. Not me though; we are in the age of the pedal-builder-as-auteur, and I loved allowing my playing to be guided by Poisson’s preset parameters.
Push it to the Limit
Playing through the dynamic-delay side of the Echo Limiteur immediately expands the possibilities of your instrument. Because it responds to playing dynamics, it’s not exaggerating to say there are endless ways to apply the Echo Limiteur. You can set it for a cavalcade of tight, spiraling repeats that cut out sharply the second you play another note, or you can tone down the limiter so that it only cuts off the delay when you play hard. In this arrangement, you can pick delicately beneath a bed of towering, oscillating feedback and pull the plug on the delay just by strumming a bit harder. If you want to bail on the dynamic aspect entirely, you just hit the left footswitch and you’re in regular delay land (the right one is the on/off switch).
Thanks to the analog MN3005 chip, the repeats are foggy, greasy, and frayed. But the augmented repeat lengths—courtesy of the digital PT2399 chip—extend the pedal’s utility. My only gripe is that I wish the Echo Limiteur was capable of even shorter, tighter delay times. It bottoms out at roughly 100 milliseconds, which means you can’t use the dynamic limiter with the most slashing and jittery machine-gun repeats.
The Verdict
The Echo Limiteur already feels destined to be a classic. The potential applications in live contexts, in particular, are thrilling to consider, and I’m sure that in the years to come, we’ll hear new music defined by the Echo Limiteur’s many voices.
In March, Luke Bentham, front, and Kyle Fisher, on the drums, blast through a set at Vertigo Music Festival in St. Catharines, Ontario.
Tom Oddballs
Luke Bentham, guitarist and vocalist in Hamilton, Ontario, rock outfit the Dirty Nil, was in the basement caverns under the Vatican when he glimpsed something that changed the direction of his band. It was a series of bronze reliefs by Francesco Messina, depicting the horrors of war. Amid the six pieces in the series, one in particular grabbed Bentham: It showed two men in desperate hand-to-hand combat, grappling to get control of a knife. “It was the hardest piece of art I’d seen in a very long time,” says Bentham.
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He and Nil co-founder and bandmate, drummer Kyle Fisher, tried to obtain the rights to use the image for the cover of their new record, The Lash, but the Vatican wasn’t having it. “We got a cease and desist from the Vatican, and their lawyers are no joke,” Bentham says with a grin.
Still, before he left, Bentham snapped a picture of Messina’s sculpture on his phone, and it hovered over the creation of The Lash like a twisted idol. “It definitely fired me up musically for some reason,” he says. “It’s rare that I’ll see something and it’ll make me want to play my guitar a certain way, but this is one instance where it came to pass that way.”
Messina’s work took Bentham somewhere vicious and primal. It pulled him back to some of the sounds the Nil had explored earlier in their 14-year career: white noise, feedback shrieks, “sheet-metal-shaking distortion.” It made Bentham think of the work of the Jesus Lizard’s Duane Denison. “Something about this cold, metallic, brutal piece of art made me play guitar a bit more angularly, and with a much higher threshold and acceptance of microphonic and horrible feedback than I’ve been looking for on our last few albums,” he says.
Bentham’s live rig has been the same for more than a decade: a Les Paul Custom into a Marshall 1959SLP, with a Pro Co RAT or two in between.
Photo by Tom Oddballs
Enter The Lash, a scummy, barbwire-scraped slab of punk rock ’n’ roll, scarred with white-hot slashes of classic metal, hardcore, thrash, and garage rock. After the radio-ready melodies and tidy production of 2021’s Fuck Art and 2023’s Free Rein to Passion, The Lash feels like a triumphant return to the basement. “I’m incredibly proud of this record because we made it because we wanted to,” says Bentham. “I’m not a big believer in the idea that tension makes good records.”
“Something about this cold, metallic, brutal piece of art made me play guitar a bit more angularly, and with a much higher threshold and acceptance of microphonic and horrible feedback.”
To honor that energy and bring The Lash to life, Bentham and Fisher bailed on the higher-budget trappings of their previous records and went back to basics, working with local engineer and powerviolence musician Vince Soliveri at Boxcar Sound in Hamilton. When it came time to record Bentham’s vocals, Soliveri had a strange-looking mic set up. “I was like, ‘What’s this microphone? Is it something you like to use for vocals?’” Bentham recalls. “Vince was like, ‘I have no idea what it is. It just looked cool, so let’s try it out.’”
He continues, “I think Vince’s attitude towards that specific thing is a pretty good indicator of how we approached making this record, which was different from the 'tried and true' way we've made our last few. There are trade-offs when you enter that world, and complexities that enter your life and your band when it comes to staying in that world. With pretty much all of our previous records, there’s been some sort of behind-the-scenes animating force to make it a certain way or an internal pressure: ‘If we do this, then maybe we can get that.’ We basically decided for ourselves that we had fun, but we are leaving the casino.”
Those “internal pressures,” which are skewered on the new track, “Rock N’ Roll Band,” were jettisoned this time. With The Lash, the philosophy was simply, “Let’s just make a record, see what happens,” Bentham says. “It’s been a long time since I found myself in that headspace, I think probably since we made ‘Fuckin’ Up Young’ and all those songs 14 years ago.”
“We basically decided for ourselves that we had fun, but we are leaving the casino.”
Still, The Lash has moments unlike anything the Nil have produced to this point. The slow, cornered-animal growl of “This is Me Warning Ya” and the haunted-house romance of “Spider Dream” are two of the record’s doglegs into the softer end of the macabre. And the stomping “That Don’t Mean It Won’t Sting,” is unexpectedly intro’d by cello and xylophone, thanks to violinist and friend Sara Danae.
Even as the band has grown, Bentham’s rig has scarcely changed. His calling-card tone for the past decade has been a 1975 Gibson Les Paul Custom, tuned to E-flat standard, through a Pro Co RAT (or two, with the second set to “drop the hammer”) and into a Marshall 1959SLP head and a Marshall 8x10 cabinet. Bentham admits he’s pretty hard on his guitars—the ’75, which has a stock pickup in the neck and an early production DiMarzio Super Distortion in the bridge, has had its headstock broken on more than one occasion.
While recording The Lash, though, Bentham changed things up. Rather than the usual RAT pedals, he leaned on the Electronic Audio Experiments 0xEAE Boost, which he describes as the most “extreme” dirt pedal he’s used to date. “That pedal is absolutely brutal,” he says with a smile. For the record’s violent feedback, Bentham and Soliveri borrowed one of producer John Goodmanson’s tricks: Split the guitar signal via an A/B box, send one signal to the amp being tracked in an isolation room, and another to a 5-watt amp in the control room. The feedback generated from the small combo jumps back through the pickups, and out to the stack in the isolation room (a Vox AC4 helped out for those purposes). For clean tones, meanwhile, Bentham called on his godfather’s 1952 Les Paul goldtop and a Shyboy Telecaster copy, both running into an Ampeg VT-22. The Ampeg’s reverb, along with the onboard effect from a Fender Deluxe Reverb, is the only coloring Bentham applied besides his dirt.
“There are so many distractions and complications as you navigate a career in music, but you must return to the simple joy of a howlingly distorted Les Paul Custom E chord as your guiding light.”
The RAT, by the way, is still Bentham’s one true love in live settings. “I’ve learned not to mess with my rig, which has served me very well for basically 12 years now,” he says. “It’s never ceased to put a smile on my face to plug into my plexi with my Custom, turn it up, and play an E chord. If that doesn’t make me happy, then I’m probably done with rock ’n’ roll, because that’s what this whole thing is. There are so many distractions and complications as you navigate a career in music, but you must return to the simple joy of a howlingly distorted Les Paul Custom E chord as your guiding light.”
YouTube
On his long-running video tutorial series Let ’er Riff, Bentham breaks down the tricks behind the foundation-shaking fury of The Lash’s opening track, “Gallop of the Hounds.
Tony Levin and Janek Gwizdala, likely from 2011 at S.I.R. in Los Angeles.
When the call came, our columnist was ready.
Perhaps, like me, you’re a fan of Tony Levin—maybe even a fan of King Crimson, Peter Gabriel, John Lennon, Paul Simon, or any of the hundreds of major artists whose albums Tony has contributed bass to. He’s the bassist on Paul Simon’s “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover,” for instance, which is a song I’ve not only listened to literally thousands of times, but one with a bass tone that is hugely influential on my sound.
So when I got an email recently asking me to fill in for Tony in Stick Men, a co-led project he has with Pat Mastelotto (Mr. Mister/King Crimson) and Markus Reuter, you might imagine there was some shock and excitement going on in my brain—feelings that had to be tamed very quickly in order to do the best job I could: literally playing Tony’s bass and Chapman Stick parts in his own band.
The initial focus was on transcribing and learning the music in a very short amount of time. The call came on Monday night, and by the time I got the song list it was Tuesday—with the only rehearsal on Thursday morning at 10 a.m. We got to chug through the tunes a few times for a couple of hours in the studio, and then the first show was Friday.
My process for learning material that isn’t charted is to immerse myself in it for as long as possible. The longer I listen, the easier it becomes to learn the notes and the forms.
This time around, I didn’t have that luxury, so the process was heavily weighted toward doing the fastest and most accurate transcription work on each song, and making detailed notes about form along the way. The music is incredibly complex and very specific in places, and even after the gigs had started—through the six shows we played over three nights—I was getting notes from Markus and Pat about where we could improve, make little tweaks, and make the show better.
“You have to summon all the experience and confidence you have to keep a level head and not let the situation get the better of you.”
I found the big key was having to maintain my huge respect for Tony and for the music while trying to put aside the “hero” aspect of how he fits into my life. I didn’t have any kind of personal relationship with Tony up until this point. We’d only met a couple of times over the years. The photo that accompanies this story is from 2011, I believe, at S.I.R. Studios in Los Angeles.
But as an influence and a presence in my playing, he’s kind of been there the whole time I’ve been a bass player. To suddenly be sitting in the seat of one of your heroes can bring in some thoughts that might not serve you that well when it comes to giving the music 100 percent of your focus.
There was also this added challenge not often encountered by bass players, where I had to play a significant amount of melodic and upper-register material. This is due to Tony playing a Chapman Stick in the band, and the concept between Tony and Markus being that either of them can play melody or bass parts and trade off at any time.
Effects were a huge part of the success of the gig, and it took almost as much time to build the pedalboard as it did to learn the music.
Even after locking in what I thought would work for the shows—and falling in love with one of my old Sovtek Big Muffs all over again—I came back from the rehearsal and threw the Big Muff in a parallel loop because it was draining a little too much of the low end when I got in the room with the band. That’s a huge part of effects that I don’t think we give enough attention to. We work so long dialing in sounds at home or in the studio, but the reality of the gig—and the changing conditions from night to night and stage to stage—is always so different from that controlled home setup.
So, I learned three big things from this incredible experience:
You never know when the call is going to come, and you need to be ready at all times.
You have to summon all the experience and confidence you have to keep a level head and not let the situation get the better of you.
Never commit to a signal chain in the pedalboard until you’ve heard all the sounds in the live context of the band you’re playing with.
Ultimately, it was an honor to be called, a thrill to be able to pull it off, and a total highlight of my musical year
MONO has introduced the M80 Classic Ultra – the latest evolution of the company’s sleek, iconic gig bag, now enhanced with smarter storage, effortless mobility, and tougher protection.
Building on the innovation of the original M80, the Classic Ultra features a refined silhouette and thoughtful upgrades designed to make life on the move easier for gigging musicians, touring professionals, and everyday players alike.
At the core of the Classic Ultra is the patented Freeride® Wheel System, allowing users to attach wheels for seamless transport when navigating airports, sidewalks, or venues. The system is especially impactful on Dual models, lightening the load while moving two instruments at once. Storage has also been supercharged. A newly designed expandable front pocket offers more room for tools and gigging essentials, while built-in compartments help keep everything in place. For even more capacity, the Classic Ultra case is Tick-ready and compatible with the MONO Tick 2.0 and Tick+ 2.0 Accessory Cases.
Inside, the instrument is protected by the Headlock® neck suspension system, keeping it securely in place and shielded from impact. A discreet tracker tag-compatible pouch adds peace of mind for travel. The exterior is built tough with water-resistant 1680D ballistic nylon, waterproof zipper tape, and reflective strips for added safety.
Key Features of the M80 Classic Ultra:
The patented Freeride® Wheel System allows users to seamlessly attach wheels to the case, providing smooth and effortless mobility.
Expanded smart storage includes dedicated internal compartments and an expandable front pocket, offering ample space for tools and gigging essentials.
The case is Tick-ready, fully compatible with MONO’s Tick 2.0 and Tick+ 2.0 Accessory Cases for even greater storage flexibility.
The signature Headlock® neck suspension system keeps your instrument securely in place, now enhanced with a discreet pouch designed to hold a tracker tag.
The durable exterior is constructed from water-resistant 1680D ballistic nylon and features waterproof zipper tape and reflective detailing for added protection and visibility.
The Classic Ultra is available in versions for guitar, bass, dual guitar, and dual bass, ensuring a fit for every player’s needs.
The MONO M80 Classic Ultra carries street prices of $359.99 (Guitar/Bass) and $459.99 (Dual Guitar/Bass) and is available via monocreators.com and select authorized dealers worldwide.
In electric guitar terms, I’ve always thought the Beatles are pretty underrated as tone meisters. We all know how good the records sound as complete works. But you rarely encounter rabid enthusiasm for the guitar tones themselves. Holy cow, though, I adore them. The electric tones that shape their 1966-’68 LPs are among the most beautiful, thrilling, and influential forces in my life. Barcelona company Aclam shares my sentiments, apparently. To date, the company built the Dr. Robert, which honored the sounds of the Vox UL730s on Revolverand Sgt. Pepper, and the Mocker, which aped the fuzz circuit from that amp.
Aclam’s latest, the Go Rocky Go, pays homage to another Vox amp that graced Abbey Road in those groundbreaking years: the Conqueror. The Conqueror left a less distinct, less well-chronicled mark on the Beatles' work than the UL730s or UL7120s. But it was definitely a part of The Beatles recording sessions (you can clearly hear the amp’s “MRB” selector at the end of “Birthday”) and is the likely source of many sounds on Magical Mystery Tour. Aclam’s Go Rocky Go dishes many fantastic Conqueror tones, and it’s dripping with psychedelic-era Beatles-ness—especially if you enjoy the more aggressive and distorted sounds from that period.
Magical Mystery Re-Routes
Aclam say they reproduced the Conqueror’s preamp topology part-for-part using an original Conqueror specimen (serial number 2004) as reference. With the MRB switch and distortion, they recreated much of the Conqueror’s functionality. There are a few significant differences, however. Aclam recreated the 2-channel amp’s brilliant channel exclusively. They added a second gain stage called the crunch channel, which splits the difference between the standard and distortion channel’s gain profiles. Aclam also made the bass pot more linear and precise than the amp’s. And unlike the Conqueror, the distortion circuit has its own output-level control.
Heavy Tripping the Light Fantastic
Though the Go Rocky Go will summon compelling tones from any guitar/amp combination, its basic voice is a natural fit for humbuckers and an EL84 amp. And depending on where you set the tone controls, it adds midrange focus and top-end running from sparkly to vicious. Black-panel Fender amps are less easily flattered by the humbucker/Rocky combo, but those tones can be carved into very precise, high-mid rhythm and lead sounds. With Fender single-coils, too, EL84s are a more organic match, but I’d be psyched to record with many of the hyper-focused high-mid sounds from the Go Rocky Go and a Fender guitar-and-amp pairing.
Adding the MRB switch to the mix (by pressing both footswitches) boosts either the 500, 700, and 1k MHz frequencies, just like three positions on a wah. Ostensibly, this narrows the pedal’s range. But the single-coil/Rocky tones with both Fender and EL84 amps are fascinating, generating sounds that would positively pop in mixes. Humbuckers seemed to summon the best from the MRB settings in both amp types—coaxing uniquely focused and burly midrange tones.
“You might think you know this distortion from Beatles records, but in the flesh it’s something much more substantial.”
Given the Beatles’ legacy as masters of pop, it’s easy to forget how tough they could be, and the Go Rocky Go gleefully, colorfully embodies that facet of the band’s personality in the distortion section. With any guitar and amp combination these sounds are snarly, nasty, and biting, but also massive. You might think you know this distortion from Beatles records, but in the flesh it’s something much more substantial. And while 6L6- or EL34-type distortion might be more even and full-spectrum in harmonic terms, the Go Rocky Go delivers a wicked, room-filling punch.
For a specialized pedal, $348 is a big investment. Listen with open ears and mind, though, and you’ll hear scads of different and brilliant tone colors in this stomp, including many that—surprise!—would benefit and intrigue curious and intrepid studio artists. In my humble opinion, Go Rocky Go is a ripper. But ’66-’68 Beatles tones may not be everyone’s ideal, and though often muscular and hard-hitting, they dwell some distance from Marshall or Fender archetypes. That, however, is the beauty of the Go Rocky Go, and if it’s good enough for the Fabs, it’s good enough for me.
