With one eye on 1960s and ’70s stylings (Hammerite-style paint, chrome- and candy-colored knobs) and another on concessions to modernity like mini toggles, smart one-screw back-panel access, top-mounted jacks, and smooth, sturdy pots, the Hammertone pedals are nice design pieces. They also seem very well made for the price. I’m usually skeptical about an inexpensive pedal’s ability to hold up over the long haul, but the Hammertone series seem put together right.
Fender Hammertone Pedals Demo | First Look
Hammertone Reverb Review
The Hammertone entry in the reverb sweepstakes, strangely, comes with no spring emulation. It hardly matters, though. I was able to dial in convincing spring-like sounds using the pedal’s hall mode. It fared well in an A/B test with a splashy sounding black-panel Vibrolux Reverb. Like a lot of the Hammertone pedals, the Reverb gives you an extensive range to work within, so the hall setting, for instance, can shift from spring-ish sounds to a vacant, massive gymnasium. The room mode is great for fast and subtle reflections and a nice way to add a little body to overdriven tones without creating an overbearing wash. The plate mode is home to loads of treats, too, and, like many pedals in the Hammertone series, has a pleasing, almost-metallic range of overtones that suggest vintage reverbs.
At more radical, high-to-maximum time and level settings you start to hear a lot of cool, odd reflections and overtones.
Each of these voices sound pretty great at mellower or more traditional settings. At more radical, high-to-maximum time and level settings, you start to hear a lot of cool, odd reflections and overtones. At times though, you can also hear digital artifacts and some less-than-flattering high harmonic content in the decay. These qualities are more obvious when the damping control, which controls the length of the reverb tails, is set for a long trail. Exceptionally wet blends, too, can betray digital origins. But there is a bit of hidden treasure among these most extreme sounds: If you max the level and use the most open damping setting, you can almost use the Reverb as a freeze pedal. Additionally, some players may dig these sounds—particularly those that evoke shimmer reverbs without sounding entirely like a shimmer reverb. Even if you rarely explore these corners of the Reverb’s tone collection, the less extreme sounds are plentiful and full of personality, and you can dial in many in-between shades that blend big spaces and cool understated facets.
Hammertone Chorus
Like most pedals in the Hammertone line, the Chorus generates an impressive palette of sounds for the price. That includes a lot of tones you can safely file under “weird.” It takes a little practice to walk the fine line between radio-friendly chorus tones and odder fare. The Chorus starts to get pretty woozy sounding past 3 on the depth knob. Initially, that can feel constraining. But it’s also a source of surprises once you master the ways in which the Chorus’s controls interact.
The Chorus’s sounds are rooted in the three basic modes. The single-voice mode is focused and airy—leaving ample room for picking dynamics and clear transients, even at high depth settings. The two-voice setting is thicker and sounds more flanger-like at many positions. The two-voice structure produces more unusual phase-cancelling patterns that can give the output a honky midrange focus that cuts as it drifts through waveforms.
The two-voice mode produces very liquid ’80s vintage chorus, including Kurt Cobain/Small Clone-style submarine modulations.
It’s less naturalistic and peakier than the single-voice mode, but it also produces very liquid ’80s vintage chorus, including Kurt Cobain/Small Clone-style submarine modulations when the depth gets to about 4. The 4-voice mode combines four lines with base delay times of 14, 23, 29, and 35 milliseconds. This creates a complex voice that adds subtle motion to prevailingly dry effects mixes or can make wet settings sound like a demented high horn in a rotary speaker.
First impressions of the Chorus’s controls are that they can be twitchy. And the boundary between pleasantly aqueous modulations and downright seasick ones at certain depth settings can be hard to navigate until you get a feel for how the depth and level controls work together. Ultimately, though, the Chorus provides intuitive routes to many modulation ends.
Hammertone Delay
One initial impression of this Fender Delay is that it’s a lot more fun than most inexpensive digital delays. All three of the Delay’s voices have a very present EQ profile with just a hint of almost mechanical, spring-like overtones that feel appropriate for a Fender pedal. The effort Fender put into sourcing smoother, sturdier-feeling potentiometers pays fun dividends here, too. The feedback control, for instance, is really responsive and easy to ride right at the verge of oscillation.
The analog 1 voice generates soft tapering echoes that blend into the background as they decay—a treasured facet of genuine bucket brigade delays. It can be genuinely subtle, even at advanced feedback, level, and time settings. And at equivalent feedback levels, analog 1 will yield many fewer perceptible repeats than the middle-position digital voice. Analog 1’s washy, less distinct repeats shine at certain extremes as well. Long feedback settings, delay-heavy mixes, and super-short delay times yield a weird blend of metallic spring reverb and Abbey Road automatic double-tracking tones. The more subtle repeats also mean you can crank the feedback without making a total mess.
Clear repeats also expand the potential for punchier beat-centric and repetitive patterns and riffs.
Things are different over on the digital voice. In this domain, repeats ring with clarity, and the ghosts of bum notes will haunt you if you’re not careful. But the clear repeats also expand the potential for punchier beat-centric and repetitive patterns and riffs. Analog 2 is my favorite voice. Its mid-forward repeats excite a more prominent, shimmering set of harmonics. It’s a great environment for enjoying the mix of those extra overtones and a dose of extra motion from the pedal’s modulation section.
The modulation can be dialed up to amazingly queasy levels of intensity at high depth and repeat settings. In general, though, I like the modulation depth at more modest levels. And the Delay sounds nice enough to require little in the way of modulation dressing. That said, I strongly suggest this mode with the Hammertone Chorus. It’s a yummy combo.
There are more immaculate digital delays and more authentic digital takes on bucket brigade echo. But to me, the Delay’s quirks are big plusses. That they so interestingly color the pedal’s broad range of personalities make it a true bargain.
Hammertone Flanger
The Hammertone Flanger is a reliably flexible pedal. It generates great chorus tones (some of which I preferred to roughly equivalent sounds from the Hammertone Chorus), and slow whoosing sweeps can be the antidote to the sick-of-my-phaser blues. But great core flanger tones abound, too, including mind-warp, hit-of-nitrous jet flange, and gentler, less tone-mangling sounds that pulse with a nice, almost tremolo-like modulation.
Coaxing the tones you want from the Flanger won’t necessarily be automatic. The basic voice is, like many of the Hammertone pedals, colored by a high-mid focus that’s evocative of hard-surface reverb reflections. On the Flanger, that voice can read as harsh in places. But the Flanger’s easily mastered controls make it simple to find softer landings. The two mini toggles are key if you generate a sound that’s a bit too intense. The type switch, which here controls feedback polarity, can recast a super-peaky setting with a flick.
The basic voice is colored by a high-mid focus that’s evocative of hard-surface reverb reflections.
The resonance switch is an even more valuable escape hatch—or portal to weirdness. It takes the place of a resonance or feedback knob that you’d see on many flangers. Generally, replacing a knob with a switch that moves between presets means diminished flexibility. But the Flanger’s voices each inhabit a sweet spot that you can modify with the depth and manual controls, the latter of which governs the delay time between the split signals that make up the flanger tone. If there is a downside to abundance of control, it’s that it can be a minor chore to dial in precisely the sound you’re looking for. As with the Chorus, the depth control can move from just-right to wild with a minor accidental nudge. Thankfully, there aren’t many bad sounds to make such an accident too jarring.
Hammertone Overdrive
If you line up the Hammertone Overdrive alongside other popular overdrives (in my case, a TS9, an inexpensive klone, and a Boss SD-1), you hear a pedal much more aligned with the TS/SD-1 camp—tight, mid-forward, and punchy. But it is still a very different pedal in terms of feel and range.
The Overdrive is most easily distinguished and differentiated by its hotter gain profile. The distortion sounds you hear at gain settings of 1 to 3 on the Overdrive are roughly equivalent to the distortion you get north of noon on the TS, Boss, and klone. There’s also the sense of a touch more compression at equivalent settings. That recipe makes the Overdrive a sort of inhabitant of the borderlands between overdrive and distortion.
At its lowest gain setting the Overdrive still growls and feels ready to pounce.
If you’re not inclined to use your guitar volume control much, the Overdrive doesn’t have a ton of cleanish tones to offer. At its lowest gain setting it still growls and feels ready to pounce. And even significant guitar volume attenuation still leaves discernible grit. That may sound constraining at first, but if you use maximum output and tone, minimum gain, and a dynamic touch with your fingers and guitar volume, you can span a huge range of sounds from explosive to mellow and hazy. The Overdrive’s capacity for dynamism may not always be obvious, but it’s there if you open the pedal up and let your fingers do the expressive work.
Though the Overdrive feels pretty-mid forward to me, there is a pre-mid boost. There’s a lot of utility in this control. It can help the Overdrive span more of the distance between a TS and Klon, and it can make the transition between humbuckers and single-coils easier to manage. In general, though, I found that the Overdrive sounded airiest and best able to breathe with the tone wide open and the mids scooped. Unleash the gain in this kind of setup and the Overdrive sounds pretty beastly.
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.
