
Can a retired mid-’70s import Epiphone be reborn as a ready-to-rumble rocker?
It’s exciting when an unusual project lands on my workbench, and I always welcome the challenge to solve the unexpected problems that inevitably accompany ambitious rebuilds or upgrades. When a guitar has sentimental value to a client—as was the case with this ’74 Epiphone ET-290 Crestwood—I derive extra satisfaction from a successful outcome.
Some background: Our project guitar is a mid-1970s Japanese Epiphone that was given to the owner by his father, who worked for Norlin Music Corp. at the time. Norlin owned Gibson back then and the Crestwood was one of the models Norlin imported from Japan to round out the Gibson and Epiphone lines. A double-cutaway slab solidbody with dual humbuckers and a bolt-on maple neck, the Crestwood blends elements of an SG and a Strat.
My client played this guitar in his first band, but since then it had languished in the closet for decades. It was time, the owner felt, to bring the Epi back into service, and he was willing to invest in the requisite electronics and hardware to make it stage- and studio-worthy.
of an SG and a Strat.
He also had a crazy idea: Add a Bigsby. Until recently, this would have meant drilling holes into the body—a permanent mod I wasn’t keen on doing. But a new product called the Vibramate ($65 street) seemed like it might allow me to install a B5 Bigsby ($168 street) on this Crestwood without drilling any new holes. I was intrigued and we decided to give it a shot. More on this in a moment.
Other planned upgrades included swapping out the stock pickups for a pair of Seymour Duncan Seth Lovers (each $104 street), installing new volume and tone pots, making a new bone nut, and replacing the Tune-o-matic-style bridge, 3-way switch, and output jack.
The owner also wanted to upgrade the tuners, which were not original. The budget keys on the headstock wouldn’t hold their tune and had to be replaced for the guitar to be playable. However, I knew installing pro-quality tuners would require drilling new screw holes and reaming out the post holes. Although the owner wanted to avoid mods that couldn’t be reversed, he felt this was one exception he’d be willing to make.
In the past someone had redrilled the back of the headstock to install the cheap replacement tuners—meaning there were multiple screw holes—so in a sense, the damage had already been done. And as the owner pointed out, it’s not like this Crestwood was a ’59 Les Paul—a sacred relic that couldn’t be touched. So we agreed that since our goal was to bring the guitar back into service, we’d do whatever was required to install better tuners.
Fig. 1. Checking the fit: The aluminum Vibramate mounts to the original stop-tailpiece stud bushings.
Betting on the Bigsby. First I wanted to answer a burning question: Could we install a B5 Bigsby on this guitar? A sturdy aircraft-grade aluminum plate that replaces the stop tailpiece, the Vibramate sits on the face of the guitar and attaches with studs that thread into the existing bushings. The Crestwood’s large pickguard curves almost behind the stop tailpiece, and because we didn’t want to alter the pickguard, I wasn’t sure we’d have enough room to accommodate the Vibramate plate. Amazing! It fit just fine (Fig. 1). So far, so good.
Fig. 2. Confirming the string-break angle before installing the Vibramate and Bigsby.
But before I declared victory and actually installed the B5 Bigsby, I needed to set it on the Vibramate and observe the strings’ break angle as they passed under the rollerbar and up to the bridge saddles. This break angle is important because if it’s too shallow, the strings rattle and lift off the saddles when they’re plucked. Using a 6" precision metal ruler as a guide, I determined the angle was sufficiently steep (Fig. 2). Had it been too shallow, I would have had to reset the neck angle using a full-pocket shim—a big job.
To learn how to make a full-pocket shim, search for “Guitar Shop 101: How to Shim a Bolt-On Neck” at premierguitar.com.
Fig. 3. (left) Mounting the Vibramate. Fig. 4. (right) Mounting the Bigsby to the Vibramate. No drilling required, so it’s a
100% reversible mod.
Now I could confidently mount the Vibramate (Fig. 3) and B5 Bigsby (Fig. 4). The Vibramate’s two stud screws come in both U.S. and metric threads, and I used the latter to attach the plate to the existing stud holes. Then using the four supplied machine screws, I secured the Bigsby to the Vibramate.
Fig. 5. Installing the Tune-o-matic-style bridge with the saddle intonation screws facing forward.
Once the Bigsby was attached, I removed the old bridge and posts and replaced them with a new system ($40 from Allparts). Knowing the Bigsby rollerbar would make it hard to access the intonation adjustment screws from the rear of the saddle, I faced it forward (Fig. 5).
Fig. 6. (left) Removing the cheap tuners that had obviously replaced the original set. Fig. 7. (right) Pushing out the old bushings with the handle of an X-Acto knife.
Installing the tuners. This turned out to be trickier than I’d anticipated, and we almost had to halt the project here. After carefully unscrewing the old tuners (Fig. 6), I removed their press-fit bushings from the face of the headstock using the handle of a small X-Acto knife. Pressing the rounded end through the post hole and gently applying pressure to the bushings (Fig. 7), I was able to coax them out without damaging the finish around them.
Fig. 8. (right) Carefully enlarging the tuner holes with a Stewart-MacDonald Peghole Reamer to accept the new 16:1 Gotoh tuners. Fig. 9. (left) The specialized headstock reamer leaves clean, round holes that are tough to achieve with hardware-store reamers.
We chose to install a high-quality set of Gotoh tuning keys ($55 street from Allparts). These Gotohs have a 16:1 turning ratio and are very well machined, but for the keys to fit properly I had to ream out the holes on the back of the headstock (Fig. 8). Again, it’s not something I’d do to a valuable vintage guitar, but in this instance I had the owner’s blessing. I used a specialized peghole reamer from stewmac.com that cuts cleaner, rounder holes (Fig. 9) than reamers you’d find at the hardware store. In this photo you can clearly see that different sets of tuners had previously been installed on this Epi.
Tip: A reamer is the correct tool to use for enlarging a tuner hole. You can work slowly and carefully and you won’t split the headstock like you might with a power drill.
Fig. 10. Yikes! The Gotoh threaded collar (left) is too short to reach its tuning machine through the headstock. Fortunately, taller collars and thinner washers (right) pirated from another set of tuners fit through the headstock and match the Gotoh threads. A close call.
Here’s where the project almost went off the rails. After I’d fitted the tuners into their snug, new holes and pushed them through the headstock, I was dismayed to discover that the supplied threaded collars were too short to reach the matching threads in the keys themselves. These collars secure the tuners to the headstock, so they’re essential. The problem? The Epi’s headstock was thicker than a typical Strat-style guitar. Fortunately, I found a set of longer collars (Fig. 10) I could pirate from another set of keys in my shop. We got lucky this time.
Tip: Always measure the thickness of the headstock before you purchase tuners.
Fig. 11. (left) To avoid marring the collar nut or headstock, always use a socket wrench—not an adjustable wrench—to install this type of tuner. Fig. 12. (right) Use a metal ruler to align the tuners with each other on the headstock.
Using a socket wrench, I installed the Gotoh tuners (Fig. 11). Don’t do this with an adjustable crescent wrench because it’s likely to slip off and butcher the nut or mar the headstock.With the collars moderately tight—but not completely torqued down—I then worked on aligning the tuners with each other. Once again, a 6" metal ruler comes in handy (Fig. 12).
Fig. 13. Measuring the drill bit against the tuner mounting screw. Once you’ve found the correct drill bit, mark the drill depth with a red Sharpie.
With the tuners now aligned and tightened against the headstock, it was time to drill holes for the tuner mounting screws. You must do this very carefully. For starters, use a drill bit that’s the same size as the screw shaft (Fig. 13). This leaves enough room for the screw threads to “tap” into the wood without splitting the headstock. If you drill the screw holes too small, inserting the screws can cause the headstock to crack. Never force the screws into the headstock.
Fig. 14. Confirming bit depth with the red guide mark. Remember to take the tuner’s screw eyelet
into account when measuring.
Here’s another trade secret: Mark the drill bit with a red Sharpie to illustrate the correct depth for the mounting holes, as shown in Fig. 13. Before drilling any holes, place the bit against the headstock. While taking into account the thickness of the eyelet that holds the mounting screw, determine how far the screw will penetrate the headstock (Fig. 14). The last thing you want to do is drill through the headstock!
Fig. 15. Carefully drilling holes for the tuner mounting screws. Always support the headstock and work slowly, checking the red depth mark as you drill.
Once I’d double-checked the drill bit depth, I slowly drilled the tuner screw holes while watching the red guide mark like a hawk (Fig. 15). Always support the headstock to keep it steady and above all, take your time.
Diving inside. In addition to the Seth Lovers, the owner specified all new electronics, so I planned to install Bourns potentiometers (two 500k volume and two 250k tone, each at $17 street) and a short Switchcraft 3-way toggle switch ($23 street). A Switchcraft output jack and a pair of .047 µF capacitors for the tone controls completed the package. We’d already decided to use the ’50s Les Paul wiring for the tone pots, so I was set to go.
For details on the ’50s LP wiring, visit premierguitar.com and search for “The Fabulous Four: Mods for your Strat, Tele, Les Paul, and “Super Strat.”
Fig. 16. Surprise! Part of the neck extends into the neck pickup cavity, making it very shallow.
Unscrewing the pickguard and pickup mounting rings allowed me to examine the wiring harness and original pickups to get a sense of what work lay ahead. If you study Fig. 16 carefully, you’ll notice two things: First, part of the neck extends into the neck pickup cavity. Second, the original pickups had a single height adjustment screw on the treble side, but two height adjustments screws on the bass side. Okay, two problems to solve.
Fig. 17. (left) A stock Duncan Seth Lover humbucker has long pole piece screws. This neck pickup isn’t going to fit in the Crestwood. Fig. 18. (right) Ah—there is a solution. Carefully trimming the pole pieces with a diagonal cutter allows the pickup to fit in the cavity with enough room for height adjustment.
Fig. 17 shows the underside of the Lover neck humbucker, complete with signatures and serial number. The long pole pieces prevented the pickup from dropping down into the cavity. I knew I wasn’t going to start routing out wood from this guitar, and that left just one alternative: trim the pole pieces. Using a pair of dikes, I carefully snipped off the pole pieces close to the baseplate (Fig. 18). Now the pickup could fit into the cavity with enough room to adjust its height.
Fig. 19. Using the original pickup rings to make a temporary jig for marking centered mounting-screw holes.
Normally I’d replace the pickup mounting rings with new rings that matched the Lovers’ mounting brackets, but the original Epi rings were much larger than modern ones and they nestled snugly into the pickguard. Modern rings would have left an ugly gap, so we had to keep the old rings. As much as I hated to modify them, I had little choice but drill a center hole into the bass side of each ring. I temporarily attached the original rings to each other, which gave me a jig to mark the new screw holes (Fig. 19).
Fig. 20. (left) Drilling the new centered holes in the old mounting rings. Always scribe a mark and then make a pilot hole before drilling into soft plastic. Fig. 21. (left) The neck pickup mounted in the original ring.
Note the trimmed pole piece screws.
Using the mark as a guide, I scribed a pilot hole, then reverse-drilled a deeper pilot hole, and finally drilled a new hole in each ring to accommodate the Lovers (Fig. 20). (Fig. 21) shows the neck Lover mounted in the original Epi ring. Note the trimmed pole pieces.
Fig. 22. (left) Bourns pots and Switchcraft jack and 3-way toggle are mounted on the pickguard, the harness wires are cut and tinned, and the pickups are mounted in their rings. Time to wire this baby up. Fig. 23. (right) Everything is now wired on the pickguard. Cable ties keep the harness neat so the pickguard will easily fit onto the cavity.
Firing up the soldering iron. Next I mounted the pots, toggle switch, and output jack to the pickguard, and then cut and tinned new harness wires using braided shield wire with a cloth core jacket (Fig. 22). When I was done wiring all the electronics, I added a couple of cable ties to keep everything neat and compact, and also inserted a pair of screws to each pickup ring to fill the empty, unused holes (Fig. 23). The latter was strictly a cosmetic decision, but such little details can make a big difference.
I connected the bridge ground wire to the harness, and after testing the electronics to confirm everything was working properly, I used new screws to attach the wired pickguard to the body.
Replacing the string nut. The original bone nut wasn’t too bad, but the bass strings sat too low and the overall string spacing was just a little off. I found a nice piece of bone stock and carved a new string nut. I shaped the nut blank to fit the nut slot, and marked it with a pencil to determine how much material to remove from the top. Next, I used my belt sander to remove the excess material and then contoured the nut top with a radius block and fine self-adhesive sandpaper. With the nut blank shaped and ends trimmed, I measured out the string spacing and began to carve the string slots.
For a detailed description of the nut carving process, along with photos illustrating every step, visit premierguitar.com and read “DIY: How to Convert a Flattop to Nashville Tuning.”
Fig. 24. The finished bone nut. Graphite from a mechanical pencil provides dry lubrication for the string slots.
When I had the slot depth, string spacing, and string exit angles where I wanted them, I polished the nut and colored the slots with a mechanical pencil for lubrication. Then I strung up the guitar with a D’Addario EXL110 set (.010–.046), which is what the owner requested, and gave the nut a final check (Fig. 24).
Fig. 25. Notching the bridge saddles with gauged nut files. Notice how the strings attach to the Bigsby with the Vibramate String Spoiler—a real time-saver compared to the traditional “curl strings over and under the bar” method.
Notching the saddle. Next I turned my attention to spacing the strings on the Tune-o-matic-style bridge and notching its saddles (Fig. 25). This involves filing a small, shallow channel in each saddle to hold the string and prevent it from shifting when you pluck it. I use gauged nut files to match the different string widths in the owner’s .010 set.
Some considerations: It’s important to have all the strings an equal distance from each other, as well as the 6th and 1st strings placed equally in from the edge of the fretboard. Ideally, you also want the strings sitting over the center of the pickup pole pieces.
Unfortunately, this isn’t always possible. It’s rare that a pickup’s generic pole-piece spacing perfectly matches the string spacing on a given guitar. Also, the fret ends on one side of the neck may be beveled at a slightly different angle than the other, which means you may have to position the 6th or 1st string further in from the fretboard edge than the other. This is a horror story for those of us with OCD! The trick is to “average” the spacing to compensate for the uncorrectable variables, and this is more art than science.
For more details and photos on string spacing, read “How to Install a New Tune-o-matic Bridge” at premierguitar.com.
You can buy bridges with either pre-notched or un-notched saddles. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about installing Tune-o-matics, it’s that pre-notched saddles never put the string in the correct spot. String alignment can vary dramatically from guitar to guitar, and thus the correct location of the notches can vary too. My advice is to get un-notched saddles and cut your own.
If you look closely at the Bigsby in Fig. 25, you’ll see that the strings are held in a claw-like device by their ball-ends instead of wrapping over and around the second bar to attach to neck-facing pins—the standard Bigsby configuration. This nifty ball-end holder is called the Vibramate String Spoiler ($35 street). Named after the auto spoiler fin, this beautifully machined stainless steel bracket fits on any Bigsby without any modification or tools. It really simplifies stringing up a Bigsby—a huge time saver.
Fig. 26. When installing a Bigsby, face the bridge’s saddle intonation screws toward the pickups.
Final setup. Once the saddles were notched I was ready to do the final setup, which includes adjusting pickup height, neck relief, action, and intonation. You may recall that I turned the intonation screws toward the pickups, rather than the Bigsby, and Fig. 26 illustrates why: You need room to reach the intonation screws with a screwdriver.
For photos and detailed explanations of how to adjust pickup height, neck relief, action, and intonation, visit premierguitar.com and search for “How to Convert Your Axe to a Baritone.”
Fig. 27. With its new pickups, electronics, hardware, and bone nut, this Epiphone ET-290 Crestwood is all
dressed up and ready to rock.
Ready to rock. Finally, after many hours of work, this ET-290 Crestwood was ready for prime time (Fig. 27). It sounds amazing and plays beautifully—a tribute to its solid build quality and top-shelf electronics and hardware upgrades. For the owner, who invested a serious chunk of change in this project, the joy of bringing his 40-year-old friend back from retirement was worth the cost. Now transformed from a budget axe to a gig-ready sound machine, this Epi is geared up to provide decades of music-making pleasure.
Watch this “before” and “after” video of the ET-290 Crestwood in action:
On our season two finale, the country legend details his lead-guitar tricks on one of his biggest hits.
Get out the Kleenex, hankies, or whatever you use to wipe away your tears: It’s the last episode of this season of Shred With Shifty, a media event more consequential and profound than the finales of White Lotus and Severance combined. But there’ll be some tears of joy, too, because on this season two closer, Chris Shiflett talks with one of country music’s greatest players: Vince Gill.
Gill’s illustrious solo career speaks for itself, and he’s played with everyone from Reba McEntire and Patty Loveless to Ricky Skaggs and Dolly Parton. He even replaced Glenn Frey in the Eagles after Frey’s death in 2017. His singing prowess is matched by his grace and precision on the fretboard, skills which are on display on the melodic solo for “One More Last Chance.” He used the same blackguard 1953 Fender Telecaster that you see in this interview to record the lead, although he might not play the solo the exact way he did back in 1992.
Tune in to learn how Gill dialed his clean tone with a tip from Roy Nichols, why he loves early blackguard Telecasters and doesn’t love shredders, and why you never want to be the best player during a studio session.
If you’re able to help, here are some charities aimed at assisting musicians affected by the fires in L.A:
https://guitarcenterfoundation.org
https://www.cciarts.org/relief.html
https://www.musiciansfoundation.org
https://fireaidla.org
https://www.musicares.org
https://www.sweetrelief.org
Credits
Producer: Jason Shadrick
Executive Producers: Brady Sadler and Jake Brennan for Double Elvis
Engineering Support by Matt Tahaney and Matt Beaudion
Video Editor: Addison Sauvan
Graphic Design: Megan Pralle
Special thanks to Chris Peterson, Greg Nacron, and the entire Volume.com crew.
$149
Marshall 1959 Super Lead
The very definition of classic, vintage Marshall sound in a highly affordable package.
There’s only one relevant question about Marshall’s new 1959 Super Lead overdrive/distortion pedal: Does it sound like an actual vintage Super Lead head? The answer is, simply and surprisingly, yes. The significant difference I heard within the voice of this stomp, which I ran through a Carr Vincent and a StewMac Valve Factory 18 kit amp for contrast, is that it’s a lot quieter than my 1972 Super Lead.
The Super Lead, which bore Marshall’s 1959 model number, debuted in 1965 and was the amp that defined the plexi sound. That sound is here in spades, clubs, diamonds, and hearts. Like the Super Lead, the pedal is easy to use. The original’s 3-band EQ is replaced by a single, rangeful tone control. The normal dial and the volume, which together mimic the character created by jumping the first and second channels of a plexi head, offer smooth, rich, buttery op-amp driven gain and loudness. And the high-treble dial functions much like the presence control on the original amp.
The pedal is sturdy and handsome, too. A heavy-duty metal enclosure evokes the classic black-with-gold-plate plexi look and a vintage-grille-cloth motif. Switches and knobs (the latter with rubber sides for slip-free turning) are ultra solid, and—refreshingly—there’s a 9V battery option in addition to a barrel-pin connection. Whether with single-coils or humbuckers, getting beefy, sustained, historic tones took moments. I especially delighted in approximating my favorite Super Lead head setting by flooring the high treble, normal, and tone dials, and turning back the tone pots on my Flying V, evoking Disraeli Gears-era Clapton tone. That alone, to me, makes the 1959 Super Lead stomp a bargain at $149.The Miku was introduced about 10 years ago and is based on the vocal stylings of Hatsune Miku, a virtual pop icon. But it does much more than artificial vowels and high-pitched words.
It’s tempting to think of this pedal as a joke. Don’t.
It all started a few years ago through a trade with a friend. I just wanted to help him out—he really wanted to get a fuzz pedal but didn’t have enough cash, so he offered up the Korg Miku. I had no idea then, but it turned out to be the best trade I’ve ever made.
Here’s the truth: the Korg Miku is not your typical guitar pedal. It won’t boost your mids, sculpt your gain, or serve up that warm, buttery overdrive you’ve always worshipped. Nope. This little box does something entirely different: It sings! Yes, sings in a Japanese kawaii accent that’s based on the signature voice of virtual pop icon Hatsune Miku.
At first glance, it’s tempting to dismiss this pedal as just a gimmick—a joke, a collector’s oddity, the kind of thing you buy for fun and then forget next to your Hello Kitty Strat. But here’s the twist: Some take it seriously and I’m one of those people.
I play in a punk band called Cakrux, and lately I’ve been working with a member of a Japanese idol-style girl group—yeah, it’s exactly the kind of wild mashup you’d ever imagine. Somewhere in the middle of that chaos, the Miku found its way into my setup, and weirdly enough, it stuck. It’s quirky, beautiful, occasionally maddening, and somehow … just right. After plenty of time spent in rehearsals, studio takes, and more sonic experiments than I care to admit, I’ve come to appreciate this pedal in unexpected ways. So here are a few things you probably didn’t know about this delightfully strange little box.
It’s Not Organic—and That’s OK
Most guitar pedals are chasing something real. Wah pedals mimic the human voice—or even a trumpet. Tube Screamers? They’re built to recreate the warm push of an overdriven tube amp. Cab sims aim to replicate the tone of real-world speaker setups. But the Miku? It breaks the mold. Instead of emulating reality, it channels the voice of a fictional pop icon. Hatsune Miku isn’t a person—she’s a vocaloid, a fully digital creation made of samples and synthesis. The Miku doesn’t try to sound organic, it tries to sound like her. In that sense, it might be the only pedal trying to reproduce something that never existed in the physical world. And honestly, there’s something oddly poetic about that.
A World-Class Buffer
Here’s a fun fact: I once saw a big-name Indonesian session guitarist—you know, the kind who plays in sold-out arenas—with a Miku pedal on his board. I was like, “No way this guy’s busting out vocaloid lines mid-solo.” Plot twist: He only uses it for the buffer. Yep, the man swears by it and says it’s the best-sounding buffer he’s ever plugged into. I laughed … until I tried it. And honestly? He’s not wrong. Even if you never hear Miku sing a note, this pedal still deserves a spot on your board. Just for the tone mojo alone. Wild, right?
“The Miku is one of those pedals that really shouldn’t work for your music, but somehow, it just does.”
Impossible to Tame
Most pedals are built to make your life easier. The Miku? Not so much. This thing demands patience—and maybe a little spiritual surrender. First off, the tracking can be finicky, especially if you’re using low-output pickups. Latency becomes really noticeable and your picking dynamics suddenly matter a lot more. Then there’s the golden rule I learned the hard way. Never—ever—put anything before the Miku. No fuzz, no wah, no compressor, not even a buffer! It gets confused instantly and says “What is going on here?” And don’t even think about punching in while recording. The vocal results are so unpredictable, you’ll never get the same sound twice. Mess up halfway? You’re starting from scratch. Same setup, same take, same chaotic energy. It’s like trying to recreate a fever dream. Good luck with that.
Full Range = Full Power
Sure, it’s made for guitar, but the Miku really comes to life when you run it through a keyboard amp, bass cab, or even a full-range speaker. Why? Because her voice covers way more frequency range than a regular guitar speaker can handle. Plug it into a PA system or a bass rig, and everything sounds clearer, richer, way more expressive. It’s like letting Hatsune Miku out of her cage.
The Miku is one of those pedals that really shouldn't work for your music, but somehow, it just does. Is it the best pedal out there? Nah. Is it practical? Not by a long shot. But every time I plug it in, I can’t help but smile. It’s unpredictable, a little wild, and it feels like you’re jamming in the middle of a bizarre Isekai anime scene. And honestly, that’s what makes it fun.
This thing used to go for less than $100. Now? It’s fetching many times that. Is it worth the price? That’s up to you. But for me, the Korg Miku isn’t just another pedal—it’s a strange, delightful journey I’m glad I didn’t skip. No regrets here.
Two guitars, two amps, and two people is all it takes to bring the noise.
The day before they played the coveted Blue Room at Third Man Records in Nashville, the Washington, D.C.-based garage-punk duo Teen Mortgage released their debut record, Devil Ultrasonic Dream. Not a bad couple of days for a young band.
PG’s Chris Kies caught up with guitarist and vocalist James Guile at the Blue Room to find out how he builds the band’s bombastic guitar attack.
Brought to you by D’Addario.
Devilish Dunable
Guile has been known to use Telecasters and Gretsches in the past, but this time out he’s sticking with this Dunable Cyclops DE, courtesy of Gwarsenio Hall—aka Jordan Olds of metal-themed comedy talk show Two Minutes to Late Night. Guile digs the Dunable’s lightness on his shoulders, and its balance of high and low frequencies.
Storm Warning
What does Guile like about this Squier Cyclone? Simple: its color. This one is also nice and easy on the back, and Guile picked it up from Atomic Music in Beltsville, Maryland.
Crushing It
Guile also scooped this Music Man 410-HD from Atomic, which he got just for this tour for a pretty sweet deal. It runs alongside an Orange Crush Bass 100 to rumble out the low end.
James Guile’s Pedalboard
The Electro-Harmonix Micro POG and Hiwatt Filter Fuzz MkII run to the Orange, while everything else—a DigiTech Whammy, Pro Co Lil’ RAT, and Death by Audio Echo Dream 2—runs to the Music Man. A TC Helicon Mic Mechanic is on board for vocal assistance, and a TC Electronic PolyTune 3, Morley ABY, and Voodoo Labs Pedal Power 3 Plus keep the ship afloat.