Seldom before has an innocent-looking pedal offered such devilish delights.
Combining a ferocious fuzz circuit with remarkably powerful pitch-shifting capabilities, Keeley’s new Octa Psi pedal makes it easy to blow your mind … and have a ton of fun in the process.
It’s capable of creating pleasing and/or demented intervals, subtle harmonizing, expansive octaves up and down, and swooping pitch changes—all turbocharged by one of the gnarliest fuzzes this side of Armageddon.
Simply Psychoactive ... By Intent
If you’ve ever craved a user-friendly freakout, this is it. With just five knobs, two 3-way toggle switches, and a pair of footswitches—as well as an expression pedal input—the Octa Psi presents a comfortable, inviting portal to a universe of crazy sonic exploration.
That’s exactly what Robert Keeley intended from the moment he started designing the Octa Psi.
“The finished pedal is true to the original idea that I had in November 2021,” Keeley says. “I wanted it to have a high-gain vintage Muff, all-analog and all-transistor, going into an octave pitch shifter—something in the neighborhood of a Pitch Fork or POG. And then when I added the expression pedal function, it could resemble a whammy.”
Ah yes, the expression pedal input. Linking the Octa Psi with a standard expression pedal opens the door to a whole new dimension of pitch shifting mayhem. Rest assured, you don’t have to use an expression pedal to derive crazy fun from the Octa Psi. But it sure helps.
With all of the pedal’s deep functionality, Keeley felt that simplicity would be a key factor in broadening its appeal, starting with this elemental item: “From the get-go I wanted it to have order switching, allowing the fuzz feeding the pitch shifter or vice versa, because it gives you two distinctly different sounds if you have pitch going before or after the fuzz. And it had to be pretty effortless for the player to switch the order on the fly. And I wanted it to be easy to switch between using it either as a harmonizer or as an all-wet octave-down thing.” That desire for ease-of-use, even in the middle of a live gig, drove the design of the pedal’s controls and functions.
“I wanted to come up with something that Jack White, Steve Vai, or Frank Zappa would have fun with.”
It Ain't Easy to Create Easiness
The Octa Psi exemplifies an old adage: Sometimes a simple solution can be the most difficult to achieve. “I knew this was going to be a challenging project,” Keeley admits. “It’s very tough to combine a high-gain, full-analog distortion with a DSP [digital signal processing] section in one box. It took a long time to get the switching just right. It was particularly difficult because the Octa Psi’s analog and DSP sections are so intimately entwined. You can’t have gaps in the audio when you’re switching back and forth. Those kinds of complications drove us crazy.
“We also addressed a lot of issues that have raised concerns about other products on the market. The Octa Psi is a true-bypass pitch shifter, and it has our killer buffer system as well. There’s nothing else out there like this, so we had to figure it all out for ourselves.“
An essential challenge: voicing the fuzz so that it would sound great as a standalone effect, while also playing nicely with the Octa Psi’s harmonizer functions. “You would think that the fuzz was easy, but it was actually one of the last things we ironed out,” Keeley notes. “I had to ask myself, ‘Do I want this to be a bass-y fuzz?’ Probably not, since the pitch shifter can add octave down. But it’s got to be an amazing sounding fuzz if I want people to consider buying it. It has to sound great when compared to any Big Muff, and it has to effortlessly pair with a DSP section. So, getting the fuzz just right turned out to be the hardest part!”
The pedal design process also encountered some last-minute wrinkles. “The ramping and momentary switching capability was the last big feature that was added. That ramping function is like having an onboard expression pedal. We talked about it in the beginning of the process with Sarah Lipstate [also known as the artist Noveller], when Aaron Pierce [a key member on the Keeley team] was working on the initial concept. Later, Michael Kaye—the guitar tech for Pete Townsend and Trey Anastasio—asked, ‘Does it have momentary switching?’ and I was like, ‘Oh crap, I forgot about that!’” Keeley laughs.
The How-To Guide for Octa Psi's Hidden Features
For all of its readily accessible capabilities, the Octa Psi boasts several essential features that can only be accessed by using more than a single knob or switch. To unlock these features, it helps to have a few simple, specific instructions. For this reason, Keeley has included a brisk, handy primer on the back of each pedal. The Octa Psi’s key “hidden features” include:
- EFFECT ORDER: You can instantly switch the effect order by simultaneously holding the octave and fuzz footswitches.
- WET/DRY SELECTION: Double-click the blend control knob for switching between wet/dry blending or wet-only.
- MOMENTARY/LATCHING OPTION: Press and hold the fuzz footswitch to choose between momentary or latching operation. This is crucial if you plan on using the Octa Psi’s adventurous pitch shift ramping capability: the output signal begins with the initial note(s) you’re playing, and then veers up or down to the effected pitch. The ramp speed—i.e. how quickly this veering effect lasts—is controlled by….
- RAMP SPEED: If you’re using pitch shifting in the momentary mode, you can adjust the ramp speed by pressing and holding the octave footswitch down, then adjusting the blend knob control.
Part of an Ongoing Evolution
The Octa Psi underscores the continuing evolution of Keeley’s product line. In particular, it benefits from a pair of preceding Keeley devices: the I Get Around Rotary Simulator pedal and California Girls Twelve String Simulator—two pedals that were released in summer 2024 as exclusive offerings for the U.S. retailer Sweetwater, timed to coincide with The Beach Boys documentary on Disney+.
“That Beach Boys project did so much to help the DSP side of the Octa Psi,” says Keeley. “I got audio analyzers in so I could study the signals. We found out that we had to make our power supplies better because of the Beach Boys pedals, and that revolutionized our design. Everything that comes out since the Beach Boys pedals is going to sound even better. Plus, it was a lot of fun working with Sweetwater and JHS Pedals.”
Interestingly, for the Octa Psi project, the Keeley design team did not rely on much input from the company’s long list of affiliated artists. “I didn’t really have an artist that is a pitch/fuzz guru, so I had to keep it pretty much to ourselves. I knew that it had to be very musical—as musical as we could get it. And thankfully we have a team that can make this happen.”
The Keeley product development squad includes electrical engineer Craighton Hale, programmer Aaron Tackett, and Aaron Pierce—the “golden ears” member of the design group who helps analyze the sounds. “I’m just one part of the team of engineers that help make the products come to life,” Keeley notes.
Fun for Everyone
In the end, Keeley hopes that the Octa Psi pedal finds new and unconventional uses in the real world. “I wanted to come up with something that Jack White, Steve Vai, or Frank Zappa would have fun with—something that does all the crazy pitch-shifting with a purpose. And I’m hoping that musicians of all types will be attracted to this. People who want to distort their drums or bass or synth, and then start taking advantage of the pitch shifting. It’s almost like you get a great fuzz with the pitch shifter for free. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be surprised if some people use just the pitch shifter, if they’re not a fuzz maniac. You can get a lot of fun out of it without an expression pedal.”
Whether you’re a brazen sonic adventurer, or simply looking for a great-sounding dual function fuzz/harmonizer pedal, the Octa Psi offers a galaxy of tones for your arsenal.
The experience of locking in with the Hawkins brothers for an hour of conversation is not unlike absorbing their gonzo, wildly effervescent take on classic hard rock. To be sure, Justin, 49, the band’s frontman and de facto lead guitarist, and Dan, 48, who plays guitar, produces, and contributes backing vocals, keep you on your toes.
An instance of deep creative insight will jump-cut to a well-executed crude joke with a set-up involving slide guitar, which Justin taught himself to play during Covid lockdown in standard tuning, “not the G cheating tuning.” Passages of admirable self-reflection are interspersed with a freewheeling riff on Kid Rock and a debate about the finer points of crawling up one’s own arse. It’s kind of a blast.
The sad inability of critics and even audiences to reconcile fantastic hard rock with a sense of humor has dogged the Darkness throughout its existence, to the point where Dan believes the “classic rock community” only really came around to the band after Justin and drummer Rufus Taylor performed in Taylor Hawkins’ all-star tribute in 2022. “Finally, ‘Okay, these guys aren’t actually just fucking around,’” says Dan. Fair enough, but what exactly are they doing?
The Darkness’ new album, Dreams on Toast, their eighth LP overall and sixth since reforming in 2011, is quite possibly their strongest set yet. In its wide-ranging, often surprising charms, it somehow manages to muddy the waters even further while also firming up an ethos—namely, that the Darkness are smart rock and pop mastercraftsmen who contain multitudes. Or, as Dan describes their M.O.: “We can do whatever the fuck we want, whenever we want, and we don’t have to worry about it.” Adds Justin, “The funny thing is what we actually want to do is just write timeless songs.”
Dreams on Toast, the British hard-rock band’s eighth full-length, is a testament to their indefatigable belief in the melding of hard-rock riffage with humor.
Justin Hawkins’ Gear
Guitars
- Atkin JH3001
- Atkin Mindhorn JH3000
- Dan’s red Gibson ES-355
- Dan’s Epiphone Casino (for slide)
- Atkin acoustic
- Brook Tavy acoustic
- Taylor 12-string
Justin and Dan’s Amps
- Ampete amp/cab switcher
- Vox AC30 head
- Mesa/Boogie Dual Rectifier
- 1959 Marshall plexi Super Lead
- Marshall 1987X
- Friedman Smallbox
- Friedman BE-100 Deluxe
- Marshall cab with Celestion Greenbacks
Effects
- Boss SD-1 Super Overdrive
- SoloDallas Schaffer Replica
Strings & Picks
- Rotosound Roto Yellows .010s
- Dunlop Tortex .73 mm
Dreams on Toast boasts moments of quintessential Darkness—in, say, “Walking Through Fire,” a hooky rock ’n’ roll behemoth that pays plainspoken tribute to the power of … rock ’n’ roll—and gets even more meta with a winky line about wasting time “shooting yet another shitty video.” For those who’ve followed the band from the start, it can evoke the shock of discovering the Darkness on MTV in 2004, when they were an exuberant burst of Queen-inspired virtuosity amidst so much overwrought post-punk and stylized garage rock. (“I fucking hate videos. I don’t even know why we bother,” shrugs Justin, the centerpiece of several of the most memorable rock vids of the 21st century.)
Elsewhere, Dreams on Toast has a knack for subverting expectations. “The Longest Kiss” leans into the progressive-pop facility of Jeff Lynne, Sparks, or Harry Nilsson. “Hot on My Tail” and “Cold Hearted Woman” are deft examples of rootsy pop writing, finding a niche between honky tonk and transatlantic folk. “The Battle for Gadget Land” engages in campy rap-rock, as if satirizing the nu metal that thrived when the Darkness was founded. It also betrays a British punk influence—a vestige, the brothers ponder, of their father’s excellent musical tastes and his decision to play his sons Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols. Bewilderingly, “Weekend in Rome” features a voice-over by the actor Stephen Dorff.
But the album’s absolute highlights belong to the signature balance that allows the Darkness to remain instantly identifiable while also being custodians of rock’s various traditions. “Rock and Roll Party Cowboy” seems to revel in macho rock clichés, until you notice a reference to Tolstoy in the chorus and realize that the badass at the center of the narrative is in reality a stone-cold loser. “There’s a line in there, which gives it away,” Justin explains, “where he says, ‘Where the ladies at?’” The truth hurts: “The party he’s describing is a disaster.”“The funny thing is what we actually want to do is just write timeless songs.” —Justin Hawkins
The same savvy defines “I Hate Myself,” a punked-up barroom-glam throwback that tackles heartbreak and self-contempt. The song also has a buzzed-about video in which Justin appears, unrecognizable, as a man who wears his grief, vanity, and insecurity on his face as questionable plastic surgery. The clip is startling, cinematic, and willfully not very much fun. Consequently it’s inspired pushback, even within the band. “I think on this record, from the recording to the videos and everything, I think we’re challenging people,” Justin says. “We’re trying to explore genres and visual ideas that we haven’t done before. Like, there’s only two of us on the album cover; me and Dan aren’t even on it.
“It’s like we’re doing everything differently, and in ways that make people go, ‘Well, what the fuck is this?’ I think we’re hopefully positioning ourselves as a band that cares about the art.”
The brothers Hawkins in action. They wrote the songs for Dreams on Toast on an acoustic guitar, face-to-face.
Photo by Gareth Parker
Fraternal Dynamics
Following 2021’s Motorheart, which was built piecemeal in the throes of the pandemic, Dreams on Toast is a welcome return to (literal) face-to-face collaboration. “Pretty much everything on the album was written on an acoustic, me facing Justin,” Dan says. “Holding my gaze,” adds Justin, with a straight face.
“We have quite a lot of success when I’ve just got an acoustic and I’m thrashing away,” Dan posits, though “thrashing away” isn’t quite fair. In fact, the through line tying Dreams on Toast to landmark Darkness singles like “I Believe in a Thing Called Love,” “Christmas Time (Don’t Let the Bells End),” or “Love Is Only a Feeling” is the precision of the craft—the sheer perfection of the sonics and the shape of each song, the seamlessness with which an intro becomes a verse and then a bridge before an earworm chorus breaks down the door. Track after track.
“I think we’ve always been good at arranging,” Dan says. “Sorry to blow our own trumpets, but I think that comes from Justin and my musical upbringing.” To wit: Fleetwood Mac’s pop-rock masterpiece Rumours was on heavy rotation at home. At the outset of his career, after he’d been a drummer and a bass player, Dan only “started playing guitar properly as a session player,” he says. “And that kind of taught me a lot about placing things, when to do things and when not to.
“The only reason I can play guitar is because I wanted to work out how songs were written,” he adds later. At one point during the chat, Justin mentions his experience writing and producing music for commercial clients—something he and his brother continue to partake in, in specific under-the-radar situations. He maintains that work doesn’t inform the Darkness too much, though he does allow that it furthers their understanding of the architecture of songs. “We learn about how they’re built,” he says, “what’s happening underneath the bonnet.”
In the end, Dan explains, the band doesn’t chase down a song in the studio until it’s been properly worked out. “Because there’s no point, is there?” Justin says. A delightful exchange about turds, and the pursuit of polishing them, ensues.
“The only reason I can play guitar is because I wanted to work out how songs were written.” —Dan Hawkins
Dan Hawkins’ Gear
Guitars
- 2000 Gibson Les Paul Standard
- Gibson ES-355
Effects
- Ibanez TS9 and TS808 Tube Screamers
- SoloDallas Schaffer Replica
- Keeley Caverns
- Keeley Katana Boost
Strings & Picks
- Rotosound Roto Greys .011s
- Dunlop Nylon .73 mm
Dreams on Toast features the band’s current lineup with the rhythm tandem of Rufus Taylor, the son of Queen drummer Roger Taylor, and bassist Frankie Poullain. It was produced by Dan, who helms his well-appointed Hawkland Studios in Sussex, England.
Unprompted, he shows us around via Zoom, and in his lighthearted practicality, you get a sense of the study in contrast that the Hawkins brothers have presented since they were boys in the English seaside town of Lowestoft. (For an intimate look at their relationship and the band’s hard-won return, check out the 2023 documentary, Welcome to the Darkness, which will be available on platforms in the States starting in mid April.) The conventional wisdom dictates that Justin is the YouTube personality, the opinionated fount of charisma, falsetto, and unforgettable guitar leads, and Dan is the engine room, the pragmatist and a rhythm ace in the mold of his hero Malcolm Young. It’s definitely not that cut-and-dried; Dan, despite his modesty, can put together a great solo, too, and they’re both affable and entertaining, with the pluck to have forged ahead through physical and personal challenges. But it’s true enough.
“I’ve been in my studio for eight hours a day working on my guitar rig for this next tour,” Dan says, feigning salty exasperation. “I’ve spent so much money.” Enter Justin: “And I learned how to go snowboarding.” Dan is interested in the guitar for “what it is capable of sonically, not necessarily emotionally,” he says. “I imagine that’s like the opposite of how I see it,” his brother replies. “That’s why it works!” says Dan.
“As soon as the amp question comes up … I don’t even know what my settings are,” Justin admits. “I’m more concerned about guitars, and I think Dan’s more concerned about amps.”
Dan the amp man: The younger Hawkins brother manages “Tonehenge,” the wall of amplifiers at his studio which he and his sibling use.
Photo by Gareth Parker
Visiting Tonehenge
Actually, Justin’s response to the amp question is terrific: “You could just send him a picture of the Tonehenge,” he says to his brother, referring to a mouth-watering monument of heads and cabs in Dan’s studio. Dan goes on to explain his wall of sound and how he uses an Ampete switcher to explore various combinations. On Dreams on Toast, he says, we’re hearing plenty of Marshall and Friedman—which “take care of the EL34 stuff”—as well as a Mesa/Boogie Dual Rectifier and a handwired Vox AC30 head that “played a major role.” Dan doesn’t feel compelled to “pull out loads of weird combos,” he says, because “we’ve got a big sound that we need to portray pretty much straight away.” Mission complete.
Guitar-wise, the big takeaway on Dreams on Toast is that we’re hearing less Les Paul than we might be used to on a Darkness record. Dan continues to swear by his 2000 Les Paul Standard, whose high-output 498 humbucker has had a huge impact on the consistency of his sound. “It’s only in recent years that I realized you could actually pull the volume back” and achieve the tone of “a really nice old Les Paul,” he says. His strings have thinned out to .011–.052 after he’d bloodied his fingers one too many times using .013–.054 sets with a wound G.
For his part, Justin has largely moved away from the white Les Paul Customs that became an indelible part of his image long ago, settling into a fruitful partnership with the English brand Atkin, whose esteemed reputation for handcrafted acoustics shouldn’t overwhelm its versatile lineup of electrics. “I know I’ve sort of become synonymous with the white Les Paul, and that’s good; I think every generation should have a white Les Paul player,” he says cheekily. “But maybe my time is gone now. Maybe it’s somebody else’s turn.”
Justin enjoys his Atkin signature models: the Frankenstrat-indebted JH3001 and the JH3000 Mindhorn, an offset with two humbuckers and an LP-style bridge. “I’ve always loved Strats,” he says, beginning to describe his concept for the JH3001. “I’ve always enjoyed the tonal variety, and the way they play is interesting.” But signature instruments are opportunities to correct annoyances and combine archetypes, and so it goes with the 3001.
He wanted a floating, Floyd Rose-style bridge, which would allow him to do dive bombs “and all the things I’ve been teaching myself to do,” he says. (Those shred moves impress as smartly deployed accents to tracks like “Rock and Roll Party Cowboy.”) Justin had long been frustrated with the standard pickup-selector location on Strats and “wanted the electronics to resemble more closely what the Les Pauls do.” A 3-way toggle for two handwound humbuckers can be found on the upper horn, and the wiring is visible via a transparent Perspex pickguard—an homage, perhaps, to Justin’s lovingly remembered Dan Armstrong acrylic guitar (for which he had only the Country Bass pickup). The JH3001, Justin says, is a “FrankenPaul, if you will,” or, as Dan recommends, a “Lesocaster.” The Mindhorn, whose offset body might strike you as a meld of Firebird and Fender, offers Justin the reliability of a Tune-o-matic-type bridge; on other offsets he’s played, like a Jaguar, he’d pick so hard the strings would pop out of their saddles. “Also, the selector’s in the right place for me,” he says.
He also leans on his brother’s collection. One of his go-to instruments for his flourishing slide skills is Dan’s old Epiphone Casino. And Justin explains that Dan’s red Gibson ES-355 was the axe of choice for two of his hardest-hitting solos on the record: the twinned-up lines of “The Longest Kiss” and the breakaway Angus-isms of “I Hate Myself.”
“We’ve got a big sound that we need to portray pretty much straight away.” —Dan Hawkins
Justin’s signature Atkins JH3000 Mindhorn, wielded here, has forced his recognizable white Les Paul into a supporting role.
Photo by Gareth Parker
Solo Break
Which brings us to the choreographed majesty of Justin’s solos across the Darkness catalog—masterpieces in miniature, as hooky and bulletproof as the songs they complement. Justin expounds on his process: “When I’m trying to build a solo, we normally just run the track and I have a go. And usually, I’m going 100 miles an hour, finding phrases and trying to modify them so they don’t sound like where I’ve nicked them from. But the most important thing is that you can sing along to it, so it becomes a countermelody.” He thinks technical dazzle can work beautifully in a solo, but only when it’s held in judicious balance among less-showy principles. “The thing that sets the great guitarists apart from the other ones is the expression,” he says. “I’m talking about dynamics and vibrato.”
His lodestars of lead playing include Mark Knopfler, whose “Tunnel of Love” solo “shows you an infinite number of harmonic choices” atop a straightforward chord sequence. “It’s full of ideas,” he says. “None of it’s showing off; it’s all logic.” Other favorites are similarly thoughtful rockers, among them Brian May and Jeff Beck.
He digs EVH too, though those concepts came later. “There was a guitar teacher in Lowestoft that would teach everybody how to do that—the tapping and all the things that Eddie Van Halen invented,” he recalls. “I didn’t go to that guitar teacher. I was more interested in blues playing, really, and that kind of expression. It wasn’t until later that I thought, ‘Ah, fuck, I kind of wish I’d learned that properly.’ Because now I’m asking my guitar tech how to do it.”
His brother’s lead playing is an inspiration as well, in its ability to surprise and draw contours that Justin simply would not. “He makes interesting choices,” Justin says, “and then I always scratch my head and go, ‘Wow, I would never have thought to play that note.’ So I try and sometimes I think, ‘What would Dan do?’”
YouTube It
Watch the Darkness rip a trio of exuberant rock ’n’ roll romps to a massive festival audience.
