Croatia’s masterful tone tailors use the Urei 1176 compressor and Dallas Rangemaster as inspiration for a super-flexible sound-sculpting machine.
Squier J. Mascis Jazzmaster and Fender Jazz Bass through ‘68 Fender Bassman recorded via Apogee Duet and Rode NT2A
The rhythm guitar is recorded with a Vox UL730-style preamp pedal with Unit67 range, eq. and sustain controls all at noon. Boost is at about 30%. Lead guitar features no extra overdrive and starts with identical Unit67 settings—adding progressively more range, boost, sustain and high-band EQ until boost is ultimately at 75%, range at maximum, high EQ at about 70% and sustain at 70%. Bass is recorded with same levels at rhythm guitar.
RatingsPros:Pretty, transparent compression that excites overall tone without excessive coloration. Very intuitive to use. Great range in all controls. Cons: Fixed attack, release, and compression ratio settings diminish flexibility to some extent. Street: $289 DryBell Unit67 drybell.com | Tones: Ease of Use: Build/Design: Value: |
As capable and mission-specific as modern stompboxes are these days, it’s easy to lapse into quixotic quests to replicate sounds from records. It’s also easy to forget that many of those sounds were crafted with very basic guitar/amp setups and big assists from outboard studio gear.
To some extent, the Unit67, from Croatia’s DryBell, is built to address this simple truth. It’s a compound boost/compressor/EQ inspired by the Urei 1176—a gold-standard staple of outboard studio racks—and the Dallas Rangemaster, a treble booster that more than a few legends counted as the one pedal worthy of otherwise pedal-free rigs. There’s also a very nice booster, an effective 2-band EQ, and simple but useful EQ-bypass and input-level switches. That’s simple enough to sound pedestrian—even ordinary. But the Unit67 is, in fact, powerful enough to be the centerpiece of a very streamlined and flexible rig.
A Sound Concept
If you’re of a certain aesthetic alignment, the Unit67’s component parts probably sound like a no-brainer recipe. And these days, it’s not exactly unusual for a board to feature a Rangemaster clone and a vintage studio-style compressor. But while there are pedals that use the Urei 1176 circuit as inspiration (Origin’s superb Cali76 line comes to mind.) and an increasing number of fair-to-excellent Rangemaster clones, I can’t recall those circuits being combined—at least in the highly integrated way they are in the Unit67. And integrated is the operative term here. These are not just separate circuits stuffed together in a single enclosure that simply cascades one effect into another. The Unit67’s component parts function as a fluid, interactive, and cohesive whole.
The Unit67’s utilitarian bent is reflected in the relatively simple control layout. The boost knob is the biggest and most prominently placed, which is smart because you’ll likely fine-tune your tone with the compression and EQ controls and adjust the overall level and saturation on the fly. Knobs for range (the Rangemaster-inspired part of the EQ section), low and high frequency controls, and the sustain dial (which is essentially a wet/dry blend for the fixed parallel compression section) are tiny but sturdy. They turn with a firm resistance that ensures settings stay fixed from night to night. This is a good thing, given the considerable range, sensitivity, and interactivity of each of these controls. Two additional toggle switches provide options to boost the input signal (convenient when moving from instruments of varied output) and to bypass the EQ section.
Primed for Performance
It’s tempting to look at the Unit67 and wonder what a few less expensive pedals might do as well. But the Unit67 is much more than the sum of its parts, and the intuitive, adaptive way it functions in performance underscores the thought that went into achieving its more functional whole.
Skeptics will question the extent to which the compressor section truly emulates an 1176. Needless to say, a compact $289 stompbox will not completely replicate the functionality, componentry, or sound quality of an outboard compressor that costs thousands. But DryBell didn’t try to emulate every last function and control of the 1176 as much as it used the Urei’s transparency and utility as benchmarks. And while the circuit topology and FET-based design are certainly 1176-derived, the more important similarities are in the forgiving, nuanced way that the Unit67 affects your signal and how it feels to use the effect: Intuitive, responsive, and capable of subtle shading and more drastic transformations.
Attack, release, and ratio are fixed, so as far as compressors go, it’s not exactly the most versatile. But as anyone that has used a real outboard 1176 in the studio can tell you, it’s pretty easy to find a relatively unobtrusive setting and let the unit do its magic while making subtle adjustments. Using the Unit67 to massage a guitar tone is a very similar process.
Another similarity between the Unit67 and the 1176 is the careful way it walks the line between transparency and coloration. The 1176 became legend in large part because it’s transparent, fast, and less prone to the blunted, pumping dynamics you encounter in cheap compressors—even at super-squished levels. The Unit67 shares these attributes, too—adding oxygen, depth, dimension, and breadth to a basic guitar/amp while exciting and animating harmonics and other subtle tone shadings that your basic rig might typically just hint at. You rarely feel like you’re sacrificing picking dynamics for extra sustain. And the fixed attack and release of the compression are voiced so carefully that I almost never missed them. The boost control has great range and sensitivity. And though it will give a big amp a major kick in the pants and coax warm, low-gain growl at higher settings, the way it enables you to boost a given EQ and compression setting without adding significant coloration is very impressive—especially given the considerable heat and presence you can add with the range control.
The Verdict
If you like lots of control over your compressor, the DryBell’s limited control set may compel you to look elsewhere. But the real power and elegance of the Unit67 is in how seamlessly and forgivingly its component parts work together—particularly in performance and studio situations where changing backlines and room dynamics challenge what you thought you knew about your rig. In scenarios like these, where economy of effort and pedal count can make life and music-making much simpler, the Unit67 is sweet medicine. And while $289 bucks isn’t pocket change, the power, flexibility, and compact convenience of this thoughtfully voiced stompbox make that sum a very fair price.
Is this midrange booster from Montreal a panacea for getting transparent boosts and ripping leads out of your single-coils?
Recorded using a Squier/Warmoth baritone Jazzblaster with Curtis Novak Widerange Jazzmaster pickups into a ‘76 Fender Vibrolux Reverb miked with a Royer R-121 feeding an Apogee Duet going into GarageBand with no EQ-ing, compression, or effects.
Clip 1: Middle pickup position for rhythm progression and beefy riff, then in bridge position for high lead—all parts played with Tsukuyomi bypassed first, then engaged with gain knob at 10 o’clock and mids toggle activated.
Clip 2: Neck pickup riff with Tsukuyomi bypassed first, then engaged with gain knob at max and mids toggle activated.
RatingsPros:Simple, killer alternative for easily at adding zing, sting, and burn to single-coil-ish sounds. Cons: Could probably fit in a smaller footprint. Slightly pricey. Can sound harsh with traditional humbuckers. Street: $159 Ground Control Tsukuyomi groundcontrolaudio.com | Tones: Ease of Use: Build/Design: Value: |
If you’ve tried using a boost/buffer pedal or overdrive to nudge your amp to saturation, only to find that it disrupts your carefully dialed EQ, you may love Ground Control’s Tsukuyomi midrange booster. Named after the Shinto moon god, this beautifully decorated, JFET-buffered stomp from Montreal, Canada, has a single gain control offering up to 20 dB of op-amp derived clean boost, plus a 2-position toggle that gooses frequencies between 880 Hz and 1 kHz by 12 dB when you flick it to the left.
Tested through a silverface Fender Vibrolux Reverb and a Celestion Ruby-stocked Goodsell Valpreaux 21, Tsukuyomi became instant best buds with my Telecaster. Ground Control is up-front about the pedal not being designed for humbuckers (and I can confirm that the mid boost really doesn’t complement a Les Paul), but I found that it worked just as wonderfully with the Widerange-style humbuckers in my baritone Jazzmaster as it did with the Telecaster. I’ve had trouble dialing satisfactory clean boosts with both these instruments in the past, even with a very popular Klon-style overdrive. But whether Tsukuyomi’s was dialed for moderate gain or maxed, engaging its midrange toggle instantly imbued these settings with everything from sparkling brilliance to bristling lead tones. I’m not gonna lie—getting these sorts of tones this simply was both refreshing and revelatory.
Test gear: Squier/Warmoth baritone “Jazzblaster” with Curtis Novak JM-WR pickups, Squier Vintage Modified Telecaster Custom with Curtis Novak JM-V and Tele-V pickups, Gibson Les Paul Traditional with 57 Classics, 1976 Fender Vibrolux Reverb, Goodsell Valpreaux 21
Think stereo amps are just for fancy delay-pedal addicts? This ingenious/delicious 6V6 design will make you think again.
Recorded using a Squier Vintage Modified Telecaster with Curtis Novak Tele-V bridge and JM-V pickups, and a Gibson Les Paul Traditional with 57 Classics. Amp miked with a Royer R-121 and a Shure SM57 feeding an Apogee Duet going into GarageBand with no EQ-ing, compression, or effects.
Clip 1: Telecaster (with pickup selector in middle position for rhythm segment, then in bridge position for lead segment) feeding Swart’s amp-1 input with toggle in bottom position, “space” and master volume at maximum, amp-1’s controls set with volume at 1 o’clock, tone and tremolo speed at max, and trem depth at 10 o’clock, while amp-2’s controls had volume at max, tone and trem speed at minimum, and trem depth at 3 o’clock.
Clip 2: Les Paul neck pickup feeding Swart’s amp-1 input with toggle in top position, “space” at 3 o’clock, master volume at maximum, amp-1’s controls set with volume at 11 o’clock, tone at 9 o’clock, tremolo speed at minimum, and trem depth at 10:30, while amp-2’s controls had volume at 10:30, tone at noon, trem speed at minimum, and trem depth at 3 o’clock.
RatingsPros:Fantastic tones. Incredible touch sensitivity. Gorgeously spacious reverb. Independent tremolo circuits facilitate both 3-dimensional wonder and delectable disorientation. Cons: Can’t sum outputs for use with mono cabinet. Street: $2,399 street (head), $859 street (2x12 cabinet) Swart Stereo Master 20 swartamps.com | Tones: Ease of Use: Build/Design: Value: |
Stereo rigs typically entice players heavily into sophisticated delay, reverb, and pitch-shifting effects—not exactly the target market for Michael Swart’s line of vintage-inspired designs. But you don’t have to be a fan of the latest algorithm cruncher from Eventide or Strymon to fall in love with Swart’s Stereo Master 20.
Originally conceived as a means of packing a single chassis with the harmonic possibilities you get from through two differently voiced amps, the SM20 became something more compelling. Whether you plug straight into its “amp-1” input, or route stereo signals from your space-station pedalboard to both of the SM20’s inputs, the Stereo Master sends your signal to two 20-watt, 6V6-powered amps, each of which can then feed either its own cab or the deceptively normal-looking 2x12 shown here.
The kickers: 1) Each amp has its own deliciously hypnotic tube-driven tremolo circuit, and 2) this Swart 2x12 has an internal cabinet divider isolating a pair of diagonally oriented Celestion Creambacks (other options are available as well). Still not grokking why this is so cool for both old- and new-school types? Let’s just say the SM20 is all about the glorious, oft-ignored world of contrasts.
All-Class Class AB
Swart offerings have long evoked some of the coolest visual aspects of early amps while still looking fresh and unique. The Stereo Master manifests this in details like lacquered black tweed and gold accents over finger-jointed solid-pine cabinets, and a front-panel presentation that feels Atomic Age without being hokey. Circuit-wise, the SM20 combines the tremolo, reverb, and simple volume-and-tone preamp circuit from Swart’s Gibson Scout-inspired Atomic Space Tone with the input EQ toggle from Swart’s STR-Tremolo and Antares models (more on this later). Craftsmanship is stellar: Components are neatly handwired on a central turret board, with longer wires snugged up against the chassis and routed at right angles, and the tube sockets and pots are all chassis mounted. Tube access is a cinch, too. Remove five screws, and the front panel comes off to yield easy, no-flashlight-required access. That’s cool for routine maintenance, or for light modifications like switching 6L6s for the stock 6V6s in either or both amps (sans biasing!), or swapping the stock 5AR4 rectifier with a 5Y3 for more sag in the response. Oh, and the output transformer is impressively gigantic.
The Conundrum: Vertiginous or Enveloping?
I tested the SM20 with a 57 Classic-equipped Gibson Les Paul Traditional and a Squier Vintage Modified Telecaster Custom with Curtis Novak JM-V and Tele-V pickups, both of which sounded absolutely fantastic. This can be attributed to two main factors: First, any qualms about perceived limitations of a single tone control are decimated by the fact that you can set different tone recipes on each amp, and the SM20’s clever 3-position input toggles, which select different cathode-bypass capacitor values in the first gain stage to determine which frequencies head to the second stage.
The middle position is flat, the top yields more bass presence, and the bottom cuts low end to accentuate mids and highs. This feature is so handy for dialing in different guitars that you might wish it were footswitchable (blues and blues-rock players will go gaga for the beefier setting). Second, the amps’ identically voiced tone knobs (which increase midrange and treble as they’re turned clockwise) are expertly tuned. There’s plenty of the velvety character you expect from a vintage 6V6 design, but at minimum the tone knobs don’t get flubby or indistinct, and at max tones are lean and incisive but never shrill.
All this would make the Stereo Master 20 compelling even if its control set were halved and all four 6V6s were dedicated to making it a single 40-watt generator of classic American tones. But it’s the Swart’s capability for contrasts that really make it a fantastical sound playground.
After spending hours exploring settings, I settled on a favorite: Plugging directly into amp-1, flicking its input toggle to the mid-and-treble-accentuating position, and dialing its volume to 2 o’clock and its tone to maximum, then setting amp-2’s volume to max and its tone to minimum. With the Paul, this sounded beefy and on-the-verge, with various levels of pick attack producing everything from warm jazz tones to country spank, jangle, and mean rock and punk sounds. A Telecaster yielded similar but tamer results with more single-coil leanness and chime—while a clean boost from a J. Rockett Audio pushed the amp to its most bristling output. Here, the bridge pickup slashed viscerally, while middle and neck-pickup tones conjured all sorts of ringing, bell-like loveliness.
This is only half the SM20’s magic though, because its ingenious cab’s raison d’être is tremolo mayhem. Whether you play it safe and dial-in identical speed and depth settings on each amp, use trem on one side only, keep speed settings the same but contrast depth-knob positions, or go full-wacko with vertigo-inducing contrasts on both knob pairs, you might find enough captivating options to forego other effects.
Except, of course, reverb. It’s virtually impossible to hear a Swart amp and not be gobsmacked by its spring reverb tones, and the SM20’s (available only on amp 1) is no exception. If, like me, you’re a reverb junkie who gets irked if you can’t dial a tank past 5 without getting loads of trebly, pinging grodiness, you’ll love that the Stereo Master’s cavernous response lets you go full-bore without the trails becoming an annoying distraction.
The Verdict
I’m pretty much at my word limit, but really what more is there to say? If you’re looking for something truly, addictively different in a classic-voiced amp, you really ought to check out Swart’s Stereo Master 20. It’s not cheap, but the extra dollars go toward more unique and impactful ends than they might on many similarly priced boutique amps.