Borrowing a few tricks from the Boss CE-2 makes this very evolved, sweet, and fat BBD chorus a modulation star.
Intoxicating modulations. Capable of great subtlety. Thoughtful, high-quality construction.
Maybe a touch spendy for a simple BBD chorus?
$219
Mythos Fates
mythospedals.com
Wondering how to get me to buy a pedal on looks alone? Well, Mythos’ The Fates chorus is a fine place to start. Blue Hammerite paint, chunky enclosure, Ampeg Daka Ware-style chicken head knobs—basically the stompbox equivalent of a clean, stock ’61 Ford Falcon. Yum. You know what else is tasty? The fat and creamy modulations from this unit.
Mythos makes no secret of the ways the Fates’ design is rooted in the Boss CE-2, and that’s fine by me. My friend’s CE-2 is the pedal that broke my anti-chorus bias. I’d venture that the Mythos is every bit as rich as that O.G. CE-2. But Mythos added two important features—increased depth range, and a vibrato, which, as an EHX Deluxe Memory Man devotee, delights me to no end. The Fates excels at every one of my favorite chorus applications. Paired with an electric 12-string, it can either add near-subliminal shimmy or heavy warp to fundamentals and overtones that make a room tremble and sparkle—no reverb or delay required. Classic 6-string tricks—Gilmour waves, Hendrix vibe, Marr and Pretenders sway, and Graham Coxon vibrato quease—are always just a few very smooth twists away. It’s nicely built, too, with solid switchwork, silky, stable pots, and an IC that’s well-insulated from tour abuse, heavy-footed switching, and jack snapping. A tag of $219? Sure, that’s a little steep. But I bet you’ll never need another analog chorus. Why can’t everything be this delicious and simple
Mythos Pedals The Fates Chorus Demo | First Look
Maestro FZ-M, Comet Chorus, Invader Distortion, Discoverer Delay, and Ranger Overdrive Reviews
A classic brand’s colorful return to the stompbox fray is marked by equally vibrant sounds.
The resurrection of Maestro as a stompbox-building concern has been a real breath of fresh air. With their colorful, substantial enclosures and illuminated bugle logos, Maestro’s five new stomps recall an era when effects pedals were still, thrillingly, working through their infancy. Call them retro if you want, but they look awesome, offer practical functionality, and sound great by just about any measure.
The beauty of Maestro’s stomps runs deeper than cool, colorful enclosures. There are a lot of compelling and often distinctive sounds in these effects. And with the promise of even more new releases before the end of 2022, it’s hard to not be excited about what oddities and original sounds might lie in wait. But for now, these new cornerstone introductions suggest that Maestro is embracing the creative possibilities of an new all-analog pedal line and aiming for sounds and functionality that offer real alternatives on the more accessible side of the cost spectrum.
Maestro's Five New Pedals | First Look
FZ-M Fuzz
For more information about the Maestro pedal line, go to maestroelectronics.com.
Though much has been made about Maestro’s return to the fuzz space, the new FZ-M is a very different animal than the 3-volt, AA battery-powered FZ-1 that appeared in 1962. Maestro is tight-lipped about the FZ-M’s design particulars. But Craig Hockenberry, director of engineering at Maestro, says the FZ-M employs a six-transistor design. By comparison, the Maestro FZ-1 used just three transistors and an Electro-Harmonix Big Muff used four. Other than the beastly Shin-Ei Super Fuzz, few fuzzes use six.
While the FZ-M is not an FZ-1 reissue, Maestro captures a lot of the sonic essence of mid-’60s fuzzes like the FZ-1 that eludes other builders. In vintage mode, the FZ-M has the snarling top-end focus and rasp that makes mid-’60s fuzzes cut so prominently. There’s more gain and volume than an FZ-1, which makes the FZ-M’s voice more aligned with the silicon Fuzzrite, silicon Bosstone, and, to some extent, the MkIII Tone Bender. (Of the fuzzes I used for comparison, a silicon Fuzzrite was the closest match.) And though the FZ-M is hot in the treble zone, there is a cool high-midrange honk that adds a smooth, almost saxophone-like resonance and complexity that keeps it from sounding too sizzly.
While the FZ-M, with its silicon transistors, is less responsive to guitar volume attenuation than some vintage germanium fuzzes, the FZ-M retains a surprising amount of body and bite without sounding too thin. It can’t match the fuzzy-to-clean dynamic range of, say, a germanium Fuzz Face, but there are still many medium-gain and near-clean tones accessible via your guitar volume knob. The meatier “modern” mode adds midrange to the output that makes chord overtones clearer and tighter. It also adds more of the singing sonorities that increase sustain.
The FZ-M sounds pretty distinctive, which is not easy in a flooded fuzz sphere. Players that value sustain above all things may find the FZ-M lacking compared to something like a Big Muff. But the FZ-M is rich with character, loud, and equally capable of buzzy garage-psych lines and articulate chords, depending on where you set the classic/modern switch. That combination of capabilities is no mean feat, and the FZ-M does it all at a very nice price.
Comet Chorus
For more information about the Maestro pedal line, go to maestroelectronics.com.
Most good chorus pedals can generate a reasonable facsimile of a rotary speaker sound. The Comet Chorus, however, makes deep, rotary-like modulations the foundation of its voice. While you can generate ’70s- and ’80s-style chorus textures, there aren’t a wealth of tones here that match the liquid shimmer you associate with Roland, Boss, Ibanez, or EHX analog chorus from that era. Where the signature sounds of those units are distinguished, in part, by high harmonics that suggest ringing octave and unison strings from a 12-string, the Comet’s modulations have less sheen and excitability in the high frequencies—producing darker, pulsing, and arguably more mysterious chorus tones that evoke a Leslie or Fender Vibratone.
These modulations are an exciting alternative to canonical ’70s and ’80s chorus tones. But a lot of the Comet’s magic is its capacity to mix rotary-style sounds and vintage bucket brigade chorus to relatively unique ends. The Comet’s versatility even extends to generating cool vibrato tones at high mix and depth levels. And while I couldn’t match the queasiest, most intense textures of a dedicated vibrato unit, like a Boss VB-2, the Comet can sound like a cross between a dark vibrato and a Vibratone rotary speaker—a composite that, like actual rotary/chorus blends, can be mesmerizing.
One interesting facet of the Comet’s voice is the way that it thickens your tone and seems to add volume as you advance the mix. This can mean less defined modulations if you situate a gain source upstream. But the syrupy-thick modulations that result can sound awesome in a spare mix.
The Comet’s coolest feature might be its “orbit” mode, which adds tremolo to the already rich modulations. At modest depth and mix settings, the tremolo lends subtle complexity to the modulation waves. But at higher settings there’s more than a hint of an old Magnatone or Fender brown-panel amp’s throbby pitch wobble—sounds that lend greasy attitude to simple chord arpeggios and sass to soulful chord melodies and leads.
The Comet Chorus is a really lovely modulator—largely because it’s able to occupy unusual spaces that mix and bridge vibrato, chorus, and rotary speaker tones. Users hell-bent on nailing vintage-’80s chorus tones down to the letter may come away disappointed. For everyone else, there are a wealth of cool, even unusual modulation tones to mess with.
Invader Distortion
For more information about the Maestro pedal line, go to maestroelectronics.com.
While arguments over overdrives and fuzz inspire no end of vitriol among guitarists, distortion pedals—in strange inverse proportion to their aggressiveness—don’t seem to ignite the same feistiness amongst their proponents. Maybe that’s because almost any half-decent distortion pedal has the potential to transform the simplest riff into a Sunset Strip smash and unleash your inner animal. And if you’re in the right mood, they’re all pretty fun! The Maestro Invader excels at delivering such thrills. But it also offers a spacious voice that leaves lots of room for detail and quick-picking nuance. It’s no less rowdy than any of the classic distortions, but it tends to color your guitar’s sound much less and, in some cases, lets your amp breathe a lot more.
I don’t own a raft of distortion pedals, but I was able to run the Invader alongside a few classics. Compared to an ancient RAT2, the Invader was much brighter and sounded a lot less compressed. Alongside a Boss DS-1, it sounded airier, fuller, and less raspy. A battered MXR Distortion+ was perhaps the closet match, but still didn’t sound quite as open or detailed as the Invader. Part of the perceived (and very relative) clarity in the Invader is down to its inherent brightness and presence, which it mostly achieves without sounding shrill. There’s also the copious headroom. The Invader is loud—it’s little wonder why Maestro included a noise gate switch—so you can be very surgical and selective about how much distortion and bite you want to add on top.
The merits of these attributes are subjective, of course. I love the woof, compression, and darker capabilities of the RAT2, for instance. And even at its bassiest settings the Invader can’t deliver that pedal’s mysterious, cloudy sense of mass. For some players, though, the Invader will represent an ideal counterpoint to those hazier distortion tones. If you crave note articulation, massive volume, and the capacity to rise above a thick mix, the Invader is a distinctive sounding distortion alternative.
Discoverer Delay
For more information about the Maestro pedal line, go to maestroelectronics.com.
Bucket brigade delay, like copious heaps of butter, tends to make everything more delicious. So it goes with the Discoverer Delay. Fundamentally, there isn’t a ton of difference between the voice of the Discoverer and other affordable bucket brigade delays like the MXR Carbon Copy and the Ibanez Analog Delay Mini. Like those pedals, it tops out at about 600 milliseconds of delay, and a bit of clock noise is almost always present in the repeats. The Discoverer’s repeats, however, are ever-so-slightly darker and hazier than the echoes from those units. The Discover also colors the attack of an initial note in a similar way. Depending on your tastes and objectives, these are not bad, and among the attributes that draw players to bucket brigade delay in the first place.
What really distinguishes the Discoverer is its modulation. Not coincidentally, perhaps, the modulation in the Discoverer has a bit in common with the vibrato sounds in the Comet Chorus. As a result, the Discoverer’s basic architecture and functionality starts to look and sound a lot like an old EHX Deluxe Memory Man. But there are subtle differences between the modulation in the two. The DMM’s vibrato modulations, at least on my vintage unit, have a very trebly and squiggly quality. The Discoverer’s, by contrast, are throatier, smoother, and more present in the low-midrange, as well as a tiny bit faster, giving the Discoverer’s modulations a more rotary-speaker-like voice. The results are intoxicating and addictive, to say the least.
Old-school Deluxe Memory Man users that creatively utilize the scale and spacing of the original DMM’s controls for oscillation and pitch-shift effects will also be thrilled with how the Explorer’s layout facilitates many of the same moves. All three knobs can be adjusted simultaneously with an easy three-finger grip, and the knobs turn with a smooth resistance that makes fluid, improvisational moves a piece of cake.
Ranger Overdrive
For more information about the Maestro pedal line, go to maestroelectronics.com.
Carving out unique sounds isn’t easy in the overdrive realm. Even among very different overdrive pedals, you’ll often find a loss of audible crossover in tonality—particularly when you add additional pedals to the mix. And because Maestro has thus far been pretty secretive about what goes on under the hood, it’s hard to say which overdrive circuit, if any, inspired this design. To my ear, however, the basic voice aligns closely in both sound and feel with that of the Klon Centaur and better Klon clones. Maestro highlights the Ranger’s blend of clean and distorted tones as a feature. This is, of course, a hallmark of Klon design, which blends an op-amp distorted signal path with second and third paths of undistorted lows and boosted near-clean sounds, then blends the dirty and clean paths via the gain knob.
Like a Klon, there is a basic high-fidelity feel to the Ranger. And compared to a vintage TS9 or a Boss SD-1, the Ranger is discernibly more oxygenated and open-sounding in many of the same ways that distinguish a Klon from those pedals. There are still obvious differences in the performance envelope of the Ranger and the Klon-type pedals I used for comparison. The EHX Soul Food and Tone Bakery Creme Brulee I used as Klon stand-ins (the latter was a near dead-ringer for the real thing in a shootout) both have more available treble than the Ranger. But this could be a good thing if you’re trying to tame spiky transients in your overdriven signal without sounding overly compressed. And, in general, the Ranger’s not-too-bright voice makes it a great partner for stacking with fuzz and other overdrives, and tends to color your amp and guitar voice a lot less.
Bucket-brigade analog chorus with an individual voice and stereo functionality opens doors to classic and irreverent modulation worlds.
Unique voice that straddles classic and weird modulation worlds. Effective stereo capabilities. Toppy voice will stick out more effectively in many mixes.
Lives on the pricier side of the analog chorus affordability line.
$249
Supro Chorus
suprousa.com
There are distinct tendencies in Supro's design philosophy. Certainly, they are a style-conscious bunch. Everything in the Supro line looks ace. But you also get the feeling that Supro stuff is designed and built by players—particularly those on the performing and recording side of the equation. And whether a Supro product is absurdly simple, like their 1-knob '64 Super amp, or more option-rich like the Supro Chorus reviewed here, they're equally terrific at facilitating a direct path to a great sound and adventurous routes to unexpected ones.
The analog bucket brigade-driven Supro Chorus adroitly walks the border between those two places. Inspired in no small measure by the rack-mounted Roland Dimension D stereo chorus, it brims over with high-fidelity, vintage-y modulation tones. But the dual-chorus circuit and stereo options enable weirder variations on those core sounds too, making the Supro a potent ally in the studio.
Wide Horizons, Deep Seas
A casual perusal of the Chorus' manual and marketing materials makes it clear that Supro are keen for folks to experience this pedal in stereo. They're right to encourage this pursuit. The Chorus sounds mind-bendingly submarine in stereo, and it's a kick to lay flat on your back, stick your head between two little tube combos, close your eyes, strum a few chords, and go swimming. But folks that don't have multiple amps or DAWs with emulations that enable stereo effects shouldn't feel left out. The Chorus has many mesmerizing tones to explore in mono.
The speed knob has great range. At its slowest settings with moderate depth levels, it has a sweet slow rotary flavor. At the fastest and deepest settings, it takes on the personality of a chatty, twitchy 'droid. Thankfully (in some cases, surprisingly) this sound is a perfect foundation for psychedelic lead lines and slashing Paul Weller and Who '66 chords. But roll back the depth on the Chorus, and the tone on your guitar, and the fast-yapping robot takes on the air of a basement jazzer kickin' it against a Leslie. Just a few very simple and fast adjustments enable travel between those ranges. And exploring the regions between is intuitive and painless. The depth knob isn't the deepest of all time, but it does make room for the extra intensity you can add via the delay knob, which shifts resonant peaks and adds swirling depth.
While guitar tone attenuation won't replace the low-mid content that's less prominent in the Supro's basic voice, the time knob can give the illusion of thicker low-mid by adding extra-chewy tape-like elasticity to the output.
Blue Bravado
The base tonality of the Supro is slightly toppy for an analog chorus. In isolation, it can sound a little bold and bright—especially if you compare it to an older, darker bucket-brigade chorus. In a mix with other musical elements, however, the Chorus sounds extra lively. What's more, there's wiggle room for accommodating the darker tones of PAF-stye pickups, hollowbodies, or other effects. There are more syrupy analog choruses out there—in the sense that they sound a little thicker in the bass frequencies. And the Supro's tone profile may be too toppy for some players that primarily use Fender-style single-coils—especially Strats. But I loved the strong, at times almost immodest, '80s tonalities that single-coils and the Supro Chorus impart to simple or complex signal chains. And while guitar tone attenuation won't replace the low-mid content that's less prominent in the Supro's basic voice, the time knob can give the illusion of thicker low-mid by adding extra-chewy tape-like elasticity to the output.
All of these qualities are an extra treat in stereo. The sense of extra space—or disorientation, depending on the setting—is perceptible. And it's easy to be tantalized about the possibilities of using a two-amp set up in the studio (or live, if you have a very cooperative sound engineer). The two critical controls in stereo applications are the time and dimension knobs. The former increases the delay time between modulations in one channel while reducing it on the other. The latter intertwines the Supro's twin chrouses in mono or stereo operation, and the confluence of oddly wobbling waveforms creates textures from classy and luxurious to odd. I have no doubt some players will drive engineers crazy capturing and applying the wobbling sounds the Supro makes in stereo. I also have little doubt some engineer will turn the results to gold. There are a lot of sound sculpture possibilities here.
Another upside to the Supro Chorus is that the vibrato does not feel like an afterthought. At moderately high speed and depth settings it does a more than respectable approximation of Lonnie Mack's woozy Magnatone wiggle and leaves plenty of room for rhythmic articulation amid the thick modulation pulses.
The Verdict
While strictly mono users might find the Chorus' $249 price tag steep, the Supro has a unique, present voice that alone could justify the cost for chorus users that dread being lost in a mix. And though there's a decent bit of competition in the analog chorus domain in this price range, the Supro distinguishes itself with its immersive stereo effects and a lively voice that leaves room for other effects. As a very conditional and particular chorus fan, I recommend trying the Supro Chorus to see how its distinct voice and extra functionality fit into your musical world and your classic-versus-irreverent chorus orientation in particular. For a wide variety of users, though, Supro's recipe will be a sizzler.