The compact, lyre-like body with its long, thin horns and slim headstock were a marked departure from Fenders and the big hollowbody basses that were popular during the 1960s. Not surprisingly, the Longhorn’s cool, punchy, concise tones made it popular among many pros. My first bass hero, Garry Tallent of the E Street Band, to name one, famously played one often during Springsteen’s Born to Run era in the mid 70’s. And no less than Jack Bruce and John Entwistle had turns with Longhorn basses in the mid ’60s.
Though the modern Danelectro company produces vintage-looking and sounding instruments that stick with those familiar, winning formulas, they aren’t afraid to tinker with well-established concepts either. The new Red Hot Longhorn bass isn’t exactly a radical departure from the original Longhorn, but Danelectro uses the shape as a Trojan horse of sorts for exploring a few new twists on the traditional Danelectro design and tone recipe.
"If a Longhorn bass was going to make the scene at the Rainbow Club on Sunset Boulevard, this would be it."
Lipstick Traces
If you’re used to the handsome copper-burst finish that’s synonymous with Longhorns, you’ll be knocked flat by the finish that gives the bass its name. Danelectro has dabbled with flashy finishes in the past, like the sparkle jobs from the ’90s and early 2000s, but this deeper, darker red along with the glossy black looks distinctly ’80s. If a Longhorn bass was going to make the scene at the Rainbow Club on Sunset Boulevard, this would be it. A cream-white binding highlights the contrast between the black and red, and in person, it looks pretty stunning. A single F-hole helps justify Dano’s claim that this is the first semi-hollow Longhorn, though technically, vintage Longhorns with their Masonite-on-pine-frame construction were semi-hollows without soundholes. Danelectro says that the F-hole configuration has a positive effect on the Red Hot’s sustain. That might also be helped by the updated lipstick pickups. Like those on the Longhorn baritone, these otherwise traditional-looking lipsticks are wound for hotter output.
Featherweight Flash
It would be fair to assume that a bass with a body this light would be top heavy. In fact, the Red Hot is well-balanced, and the weight—or lack thereof—astonishes at times. I can see how some of my friends that pull eight-hour shifts on Broadway in Nashville benefit greatly from its feather-like feel. On our review Red Hot, the action was pretty high. And as much as high action is conducive to replicating the feel of a vintage bass, most players will probably prefer less space between the strings and frets. In old-school Dano style, the Longhorn has a rosewood saddle for all four strings, so lowering the entire bridge was the only option for an action fix. Yet as primitive as that solution is, it worked like a charm. The aluminum nut slots (which is obviously much more challenging to alter without the help of a pro) also seemed a little high relative to the fretboard, but did not detract from playability much once I adjusted the bridge.
Bumpin’ and Burpin’
I was impressed with the “burp” and aggressiveness of the Red Hot with both pickups engaged and the tone all the way up. The bass comes from the factory equipped with roundwounds and the zing of those strings registers loud and clear in combined pickup and advanced tone settings. Even fret and hand noises sounded musical, inspiring and fun. That bark and presence isn’t lacking at other settings, though. The growl I heard from the bridge pickup was more toothsome than that from many solidbody basses, and I turned down the tone control frequently in order to tame the bite. Extra bass from an amplifier’s tone stack can be a great balancing factor if you like the basic sound of the bridge pickup alone. But the single pickup still leaves lots of room for nuance. The note volume along the whole length of the fretboard is surprisingly full and even, which compelled me to try out a walking jazz bassline. That’s not generally something I would try with a bridge pickup alone, but it sounded full and even here.
By itself, the neck pickup’s tone is thick and buttery. And it’s in this mode that you perceive the virtues of the semi-hollow construction most. There’s a woody essence in the lower midrange without the unpleasant byproduct of muddiness in the sub-low frequencies that often occurs in basses with the neck pickup located this far forward. When I played the neck pickup with a pick and muted with my palm, I heard the most pleasing, and in some respects, the biggest tones from the Red Hot.
The Verdict
The Red Hot Longhorn is an attractive bass that produces a greater variety of tones than its style suggests. The block at the neck/body joint and the relatively high string height at the nut might take time to get used to if a player’s experience with Dano basses is limited. But the playing experience and tones the Red Hot delivers are often quite unique. Combined with the eye-catching style, it’s a bass that can point a player in fresh creative directions.
Danelectro Red Hot Longhorn Semi-hollowbody Bass Guitar - Red
First introduced in 1958, Danelectro’s classic Longhorn body shape and short-scale neck is revered for its distinctive sound, heard on countless recordings. The newest Longhorn carries on this proud tradition but adds some modern touches.
Red Hot Longhorn features include:
- Red Hot top and black back & sides
- F hole and top body binding.
- Two Danelectro 50’s pickups, CRL pickup selector
- 29.75″ short-scale neck with Rosewood fretboard and 24 frets
- Traditional bridge with single adjustable rosewood saddle
- Black die-cast master volume and tone knobs
But it can also be fuzzier than you expect. And calling it a distortion sells short its fine overdrive and boost qualities, as well as its responsiveness to guitar volume and tone variations, and picking dynamics. It interacts with amps spanning the Fender- and English-sound templates as though it has a very individual relationship with each. It rarely sounds generic. And its tone range makes it a potential problem-solver in backline situations or studio sessions where you’re looking for something predictable or altogether weird—which is reassuring if, like me, looking at 10 different gain devices gives you a nervous sense of decision fatigue. The Nichols 1966 may not always be precisely the gain unit you’re looking for, but can also produce scads of tones you may not have known you needed.
Exponential Possibilities, Many Personalities
When the knob count on a pedal goes up, that doesn’t always make the device more effective or complex-sounding. But when controls work as interactively as they do on the Nichols 1966, four knobs and a mid-cut switch can make for a very broad palette, indeed. You don’t often see fuzz and drive controls together on a pedal. Usually, the two terms are interchangeable. Here though, the fuzz and drive knobs have a very different effect on the Nichols 1966 output. They also react very differently to single-coils, humbuckers, and American- and British-style amps.
At its maximum, the drive control’s distortion can sound and feel comparatively midrange-y, not too saturated, and sometimes brittle—requiring careful attention from the tone control. In general, advanced drive settings (with low fuzz) favor slightly attenuated and bassier tone-control positions and the stock EQ toggle setting. At their best, these combinations evoke small vintage amps cranked to their nastiest or larger amps with more sag. Advanced drive control settings with toppier tone settings and/or a mid-cut EQ setting are much less flattering, particularly with single-coils and/or high-mid-focused, British-voiced amps. Introduce humbuckers though—especially neck PAFs with less aggressive tone profiles—and you can coax muscular, hazy gain with tough tenor-saxophone tonalities, which are fatty and delectable. The drive control can also help shape great clean-boost sounds and treble booster-stye distortion. There are discoveries aplenty you can make with the right guitar-and-amp recipe.
The fuzz control is the hotter of the two, in terms of gain. At maximum levels, it’s scorching and buzzy, and, if you like really burning fuzz, it’s actually quite forgiving of trebly settings and mid-gain scoops, even with single-coils. A great technique for creating nasty, mid-’60s fuzz colors is to set the fuzz tone to maximum, scoop the mids, add a fair bit of treble, and add drive to taste.
“It’s plenty loud, and with the volume, fuzz, and drive all the way up, it’s positively brutish.”
Danelectro may allude to the Nichols 1966 being something less than a full-on fuzz, but I just spent the weekend listening to Davie Allan and the Arrows Cycle-Delic Sounds, and if this isn’t fuzz—as in getting-jumped-by-a-gang-of-leather-clad-mace-wielding-wasps kind of fuzz—then I’m Tony Bennett. There may be fuzzes that are silkier, smoother, or sound more like classic fuzz X or guitar-hero Z. But if you regard fuzz as an attitude more than a sonic commandment etched in granite, you’ll be tickled by how unique the Nichols 1966 sounds in that capacity. It’s plenty loud, and with the volume fuzz and drive all the way up, it’s positively brutish.
But it’s the playful use of the interrelationship between fuzz, drive, and tone together that showcase the Nichols 1966’s real strengths. Used actively, intentionally, and with an attentive ear, you can fashion high-gain distortion and fuzz sounds as well as varied, unique overdrive colors that you can fit to single-coils or humbuckers and that summon unique textures from each. The pedal responds effectively to guitar tone and volume attenuation without sacrificing much in the way of dynamic sensitivity. And, at less trebly and cutting settings, it still works as a vehicle for funky David Hidalgo/Tchad Blake Latin Playboys fuzz or Stacy Sutherland’s 13th Floor Elevators drive sounds that are distinctive in a mix in spite of their low-midrange emphasis.
Fuzzy Finish
Though generally sturdy, the Nichols 1966 isn’t a flawlessly executed pedal. The three circuit boards—one for the I/O jacks and DC 9-volt jack, another for the footswitch and LED, and a third for the drive and tone circuitry—are affixed to the enclosure independently of each other, which conceivably makes the pedal less susceptible to cataclysmic failure and more conducive to repair. On the other hand, some of the finishing work around some solders looks less than pretty and irregular. I’m not sure this affects pedal longevity. I’ve seen decades-old fuzzes with solders light-years uglier than these that work perfectly. At $199, you do like to see slightly tidier finishing work. Then again, I suspect most of what looks sloppy here is only superficial. The pots and switches all feel sturdy and smooth.
The Verdict
If you’re non-dogmatic about how much your fuzz, overdrive, or distortion sound like a certain template—and if you have the time and presence of mind to tinker with the Nichols 1966’s interactive controls to learn how they work with each other and different guitar and amp pairings—you’ll find the Nichols 1966 a pedal of power, great utility, copious surprises, nuance, and happy weirdness.
