OC Pedal Co. was formed in 2024 by Santa Ana native Evan Haymond, a session ace who toured with Jack Russell of Great White in the 2010s. Not surprisingly, OC Pedal Co.’s U.S.A.-made LA HABRA Hard Clipper evokes many of the crunchy sounds from that era.
Less is More
The LA HABRA’s control panel is minimal, with just two knobs—volume and tone. There’s no gain knob, instead you get a gain switch that lets you choose between two clipping profiles. In the right position the pedal employs op-amp clipping. Set it to the left and a set of LED diodes are activated. With humbuckers, the gain switch set to LED mode, and the tone knob at 11:00, the LA HABRA produced a toothy sound that, sure enough, produced power chord sounds that sounded more than a little like Great White’s cover of “Once Bitten, Twice Shy.”
Though the lack of a gain knob may leave some players feeling limited, the tone knob is a powerful tool for shaping the characteristics of the distortion, and with the tone knob at its darkest setting, the LA HABRA still delivers ample definition. Move the tone knob up to around 3:00, though, and there’s enough clarity and treble detail to make leads sizzle. To my ears this is where the pedal shines, and bumping the tone knob all the way up (with the gain switch still set to the LED clipping mode), the sound is super aggressive without being over-saturated.
In general, with the gain switch set to LED clipping you get a high-end boost and hear and feel more compression. Op-amp clipping tames some of the highs yielding a more balanced output, which is particularly noticeable when the tone knob is set to 3:00 and above. I generally preferred the gain switch set to op-amp clipping but each clipping mode yields sounds that can work in many contexts.
The Verdict
The LA HABRA has plenty of definition for melodic parts and is tough enough for bluesy riffs. For legato shred-type playing, there were times when I wished the pedal had a little more gain. But LA HABRA has a knack for feeling amp-like, particularly in terms of dynamics and touch sensitivity—much more so than many pedals that occupy this mid- to high-mid-gain category.
Darkglass Electronics is a bass player’s company. And like many bass-centric brands, they sometimes seem determined to ensure that guitar players aren’t the only ones having fun when it comes to amps and effects. If that’s true, the DSP-driven Anagram may be their most impressive form of revenge yet.
All The Things, All So Small
The Anagram is a sleek unit with just three footswitches and six knobs above the touch screen. Plug in the unit (there’s no on/off) and the screen lights up, welcoming you to your journey. It’s an inviting interface, and it’s hard to avoid the impulse to just start tapping and scrolling.
Connection options are plentiful: There’s a send and return that can be configured as a stereo effects loop or a mono loop and expression pedal input, a 1/8" headphone jack, and a USB-C port along with two 1/8" MIDI ports for connecting an external MIDI controller and sending MIDI. Four outputs take up half of the back panel, with two XLRs and two 1/4" jacks.
Looking Through the Darkglass
There are 19 pages of tutorial you can scan on the touch screen after the initial power up, but that shouldn’t be discouraging. The Anagram is, in general, easy to grasp. There are three modes that can be used to navigate its many features. Preset mode uses footswitches to move between presets, though there will be an audible gap when you switch between them. Stomp mode allows you to use the footswitches to toggle between three virtual stompoxes within a preset, so you can, for instance, use the chorus on a bridge and overdrive for your bass solo. The deeper scene mode enables you to seamlessly switch between scenes, which can include completely different groups of pedals and settings. Think of it as an octopus switching multiple stomps and turning knobs for you all at once.
Three screen views are available: chain, bindings, and name. Chain view provides the most pedalboard-like representation of the signal path. This is where you can manage and route your preset’s effects in an efficient, more “analog” way. It’s intuitive and the most direct way to create a preset from scratch or reshape an existing one. Bindings mode allows access to parameters within a preset and enables you to assign the most critical controls to the six knobs at the top of the Anagram. Name mode displays—you guessed it—the name of the active preset. It’s the easiest readout to see in a low-light stage setting. But if any of the individual views don’t serve your purposes, the modes can be combined in multiple configurations.
The Anagram makes editing global settings a breeze. Hold down the sixth knob to enter mixer mode, where you can control the L/R and XLR outputs—either individually or linked for consistent volume—as well as the headphone and master outputs. Tapping the “EQ” box in this screen takes you to the very precise global EQ, where you can adjust gain, width, and frequency in a range from 25 Hz to 16.0kHz.
Ana-tons of Tone
With more than 50 effects (Darkglass says that thousands of additional effects and amps are available via integration with the Neural Amp Modeler), Anagram's factory presets are a great place to begin exploration. I jumped down the rabbit hole starting with Factory preset 01—“harmonic booster.”In this preset, there are six elements in the chain, and when one of the six knobs along the top row are pressed, the corresponding effect goes dark, signaling that the effect is off. The same six knobs also control user-defined parameters within the effect, or a virtual speaker cab, if you switch one into the chain. Once you’re happy with your tweaks, you tap the three dots on the touch screen and save the preset. It’s really simple. Swapping effects within a preset is just as quick—tap the pedal icon you want to change, and you’ll jump straight to its edit screen.
While the sounds are superb, the Anagram truly shines in its ease of programmability and the precision with which you can switch things up.
Paired with my passive, J-bass-style Bluesman Vintage Eldorado, the harmonic booster preset was enough to make my day. Though there are 12 effect blocks available—or 24 in parallel—in that preset, only five are used in its factory preset form, permitting me to add rich chorus and octave to the already satisfying tone. The depth of familiar effects and amps is impressive. With searing overdrives, signature Darkglass pedals, and a super-wide range of bass-centric effects, I was like a kid in a candy store. And there are also 20 cab options and a boatload of mic options that can be situated in different positions relative to the cab. The options are seemingly endless.
The Verdict
The Anagram is ideal in a lot of settings. For fly dates, it’s compact and easy to re-program if, say, you add a new song to the set on a whim. Provided there is a proper P.A., the unit is truly all you need to get the job done. Able to run the gamut of vintage and modern sounds, it could be a cover-band bass player’s best friend. And while the sounds are superb, the Anagram truly shines in its ease of programmability and the precision with which you can switch things up. From an economic standpoint, the Anagram is the equivalent of purchasing several traditional floor pedals … and then getting hundreds more for free. At just under $1,200, that’s math that makes sense.
Like the Silver Sky, the NF 53 revealed Paul Reed Smith’s deep reverence for classic Fullerton designs and curiosity about how to expand on those templates. 2023’s NF 53 release left us impressed, and it was only a matter of time until an offshore-built SE model followed. That time has come: The SE NF 53 is here, dressed in the same lines and livery as the USA-built model, but at a more affordable price point thanks to PRS-licensed and supervised manufacturing by the Cor-Tek Musical Instrument Co. in Indonesia.
Like the NF 53, the SE model is more a riff on the Telecaster theme than a copy. Unburdened by tradition, PRS carved away at every line of the single-cutaway form, and the electronics are very much about enhancing versatility, rather than reducing componentry to the absolute basics. Even so, the SE NF 53 still drips with Tele-ness.
Single-Cut Minded
T-style traditionalists will find much that feels familiar, like the 25.5" scale length and bolt-on maple neck. From there, though, the SE NF 53 deviates from vintage T-style spec pretty quickly. There are 22 medium-jumbo frets, and the neck is constructed with a scarf joint that increases strength at the headstock break. The maple fretboard is sliced away from the neck and reglued after installation of the truss rod. Its width at the nut falls between Gibson and Fender camps at 1 41/64". The 10" radius also splits the difference between vintage Gibson and Fender specs, and it all feels great in hand courtesy of a rounded-C profile that measures about .87" deep at the first fret. The guitar’s overall weight is around 8.1 lbs.
In Telecaster style, the SE NF 53’s body is made from swamp ash—in this case, using 3-piece construction. It features belly and forearm contours, and a contoured cutaway for easier upper-fret access. PRS maximized the drama of the ash’s distinctive grain with a white doghair finish on our review sample, and black grain filler makes the wide, rippling lines pop and weave beneath the white. They reverse the effect entirely on the black doghair version, and hide the grain entirely on the pearl white finish.
In the hardware department, the SE NF 53’s bridge nods to a vintage Telecaster’s brass barrel saddles, but it uses a steel-base design with string-anchor notches rather than through-body stringing. It also deviates from T-style tradition by assigning three strings to a saddle with two adjustment bolts, rather than three saddles with two strings each.
Like the USA model before it, the SE NF 53 is fitted with a pair of PRS’s Narrowfield DD pickups, although these are the “S” variant, which are designed to enhance low-end tones while retaining snarl and twang. The “DD” stands for deep dish, meaning these single-coil-sized humbuckers are made with deep bobbins to enable extra coil windings, using a mix of magnet pole pieces with steel poles in between. They are wired through master volume and tone controls and a three-way selector switch on a plate that nods toward the late ’60s Fender Telecaster Thinline.
Taken together, the SE NF 53 is a cohesive design, made stronger by its robust build quality. There’s no real lack of refinement in evidence when compared to the USA model. Some of the woods and components are a different grade, but the overall result is a guitar that lends a sense of confidence.
Field Day
Plugged into a Fender Bassman head and 2x12 cab, a Vox AC15 1x12 combo, and a Fractal FM9 into headphones, the guitar reveals a genuine alternative to the T-style formula suggested by its components. Its character is distinctly its own—and with noticeably less hum.
The Narrowfield DD “S” pickups play a big part in the guitar’s success. The easiest reference point I can think of might be a blend of Telecaster and P-90 tonalities, but with plenty of their own thing going on. With a clean amp or setting there’s a meaty growl on top of the twang. Yet the guitar isn’t short on bright, sparkly chime, and sounds alive in those frequencies without being strident or spikey. This sonic foundation puts edge-of-breakup tones right in the SE NF 53’s wheelhouse, where the chewy bite segues into a little bit of breakup when you hit it hard. And it’s just as comfortable with high-gain tones, where the same sonic characteristics that contribute sweetness in cleaner settings enable clarity and cutting power while avoiding harshness in the highs. In fact, the guitar is at home in so many settings, sharing a Telecaster’s versatility and its effortless ability to handle almost anything with style.
The Verdict
The NF 53 platform is a very likeable tribute to the seminal T-style without trying to replicate it and, as a result, it’s versatile and inspiring guitar in its own right and in its way. And in the SE version of this design it delivers at a price that belies its vocabulary and its confidence.
There are more flexible means for mashing up fuzz and delay thanBenson’s Deep Sea Diver. And in a time of preposterously low-priced pedals, there are more economical methods, too. But there’s no guarantee that a more traditional and cost-conscious path will yield results as interesting—or inspirational—as those offered by the Deep Sea Diver. It’s a pedal that often serves up zigs where you seek zags—depending on your sense of adventure and creative latitude, it can feel versatile, forgiving, and full of exciting surprises.
Bathyspheric Battiness
The Deep Sea Diver was developed withJessica Dobson, who fronts the band that shares the pedal’s name—and for whom more unusual applications of the fuzz/delay equation are a sonic cornerstone. The basic architecture of the Deep Sea Diver makes a great departure point for any player keen to ply the odder corners of that stompbox formula. It’s hard to know firsthand exactly what that architecture is—Benson flipped the circuit board so that you don’t see components, but rather a stylized representation of Dobson’s face in silhouette. (For the record, the solders you can see all look exceptionally tidy).
Chris Benson says that the 3-transitor fuzz section of the circuit uses a mutant mix of the 2-transitor Tone Bender MK 1.5 and the 3-transistor Tone Bender MK 2.0 as a foundation. Dobson says she envisioned a less hectic version of the ZVEX Fuzz Factory—a relation borne out here by the gate and bias controls. The delay section, meanwhile, is built around a PT2399 chip. This is a device many builders have put to creative use in spite of first turning up in karaoke machine delays. Its sonic signature—lo-fi, hazy—can be similar to that of bucket brigade delays, but still occupies a different lane than the analog EHX Memory Man and Diamond Memory Lane devices that underpin Dobson’s rig. As a whole then, the Deep Sea Diver doesn’t really replicate any particular part of Dobson’s tone recipe as much as it adds a new color formed in the spirit of where her playing has been and where it might be going.
One Deep Sea Diver feature that is a fixture of Dobson’s tone is a delay that is situated before the fuzz—except for when it isn’t. By holding down the bypass switch while powering up, you can reverse the order of the effects. If you’ve never experimented with switching fuzz and delay, the results can be revelatory.
Submarine Flip Flops
Given how interesting it is to move between the order of effects on the Deep Sea Diver, it’s a shame that you can’t make the switch without powering off the unit. Obviously, that’s not the most complicated process, but it’s also not one you’ll attempt in the middle of a song or set. Many pedals enable effect-order switching via a toggle or alternate footswitch input. In this case, the latter possibility was difficult for good reason, as pressing and holding the footswitch activates an endlessly entertaining runaway oscillation effect.
To a passively listening bystander, a switch in fuzz/delay effects order isn’t always glaringly obvious. In a very general sense, fuzz before delay results in greater clarity, and vice versa. But on the Deep Sea Diver, situating the delay before the fuzz lends a gauzy, foggy smear around the edge of transient notes and the repeats that you feel as much as hear. Comparing the Deep Sea Diver to a bucket brigade delay and a ZVEX Fuzz Factory, you can hear why Chris Benson employed the PT2399 chip. There’s a slightly more lo-fi blur to the Deep Sea Diver’s delay signature, which, to my ears, lends extra mystery.
One Deep Sea Diver feature that is a fixture of Dobson’s tone is a delay that is situated before the fuzz—except for when it isn’t.
But it’s the fuzz section of the Deep Sea Diver that really expands its performance envelope. The gate and bias controls both have impressive range and work together pretty seamlessly to broaden the pedal’s fuzz voice. There are lots of collapsing, fractured fuzz-on-the fritz and dying-AM-radio sounds made more appealing by the smoky delay signal. You’ll find many shades of super-cool mid-1960s buzz, too. But it’s also capable of unique, punchy drive sounds that hit hard and are easy to compose with, and situate in a mix without sounding entirely unhinged. The Deep Sea Diver will happily go bonkers if that’s what you’re after though, and as you get a feel for the way the gate and bias controls interact you might not even miss the conspicuously absent gain level control—which, I venture, would complicate matters significantly.
The Verdict
I played the Deep Sea Diver next to a few different fuzz/delay combinations, and there is an audible cohesiveness in the two effects at the Benson's core. Furthermore, the resulting dovetailed fuzz/delay voices lend the Deep Sea Diver a truly individual voice at many settings. Though it falls short of mimicking the butter-smooth sustain of, say, a Big Muff and a Boss DD-5, it can still dish many rich fuzz tones in that spirit—just a bit filthier. The Deep Sea Diver is most certainly eccentric, just as its creators no doubt intended. But it’s not exclusively weird. There are plenty of sounds here for classicists, even if the Deep Sea Diver tends to beckon the player toward more unorthodox ends.
When California-based effects company Noise Engineering released their Desmodus Versio in 2020, it represented the first reverb effect in their product line, but they coined a new term for the DSP-based effect: a synthetic-tail generator. The name reflects the reality that, by definition, it doesn't create literal reverberation, as in reflections in a room, but instead builds “tails” onto an audio signal. Taxonomy aside, it was a powerful, well-received, and positively jam-packed digital unit.
The Batverb, launched earlier this year, is an evolution of Noise’s tail-generating efforts. However, it uses brand-new code programmed for Electrosmith’s Daisy Seed DSP platform. A stereo effect box that spans delightful and demented flavors of delay and reverb, the Batverb is generously featured and full of unique takes on space-making effects.
Heads or Tails
The Batverb’s main panel includes six knobs, three 3-way switches, two footswitches, and one “bat” button, which you press and hold to access alternate parameters assigned to the knobs. On the crown are input jacks for either mono or stereo performance. On the sides are MIDI in/out and expression pedal jacks. Up to 16 different presets can be saved and recalled via MIDI.
In normal operation, the knobs govern, from bottom left to bottom right, input volume, time, a suboctave chorus, an octave-up shimmer, “regen” or feedback, and a blend of dry and wet signals. When holding the bat button, those same knobs, in order, control output volume, MIDI channel selection, high-pass filter, low-pass filter, duck amount, and expression pedal parameter assignment. The focus switch changes the diffusion of the delay lines. In the left position it behaves more like a delay, while the other two settings sound and feel more like reverbs. Grit adds, in the middle and right positions, a discrete soft-clipping distortion, and duck determines the responsiveness of the feedback. In the switch’s center position, there’s no ducking. At left, feedback momentarily increases when input volume is received, then tapers off as the signal does. At right, the opposite happens, and feedback increases as the signal gets quieter.
Enter the Bat Cave
To my ears, the Batverb’s more reverb-y patches are in hall or room territory—albeit very cavernous halls or rooms. But reverb sounds created by the Batverb’s algorithms sound more authentic to me than many sought-after reverbs I’ve played. Rather than an indistinct wash of sound, the tails here give the convincing impression of your amp’s signal ricocheting around a high-ceilinged cathedral, at first coming back in clearer, sharper bursts, then melting into smeary ambience. And the handy hold feature can be engaged for infinite regeneration by tapping the footswitch, or for a specific window by pressing and holding. That double utility goes a long way toward determining whether the Batverb sounds organic or unhinged.
The sub- and up-octave content injected by the doom and shimmer knobs is more chaotic and spacious than garden-variety iterations of those effects you’ll find on many octave-based reverbs, and that’s a good thing. Like most effects generated by the Batverb, it feels like the product of thoughtful, well-considered programming.
The delay algorithm, engaged with the focus toggle at left, is pleasant and plenty usable, and it’s nice to have alongside the less predictable reverb settings. But the Batverb’s deep tweakability means you can still dial in a broad range of both standard and more marginal delay sounds. The chunky transistor-ish dirt summoned by the grit switch widens the palette further. Add in the touch-sensitive ducking (and its customizable parameters), and you’ve got a ton of ground to play with.
The Verdict
Noise Engineering created an outstanding reverb and tail generator here. Considering its steep asking price, the Batverb will be out of reach for many, but it’s obviously geared toward adventurous players and discerning producers, especially those looking for authentic, parallel universe-conjuring ambience and noise in their studio or live rigs. For these musicians, the Batverb will be more than worth the bite it takes from the bank balance.