Beauty and sweet sonority elevate a simple-to-use, streamlined acoustic and vocal amplifier.
An EQ curve that trades accuracy for warmth. Easy-to-learn, simple-to-use controls. It’s pretty!
Still exhibits some classic acoustic-amplification problems, like brash, unforgiving midrange if you’re not careful.
$1,199
Taylor Circa 74
taylorguitars.com
Save for a few notable (usually expensive) exceptions, acoustic amplifiers are rarely beautiful in a way that matches the intrinsic loveliness of an acoustic flattop. I’ve certainly seen companies try—usually by using brown-colored vinyl to convey … earthiness? Don’t get me wrong, a lot of these amps sound great and even look okay. But the bar for aesthetics, in my admittedly snotty opinion, remains rather low. So, my hat’s off to Taylor for clearing that bar so decisively and with such style. The Circa 74 is, indeed, a pretty piece of work that’s forgiving to work with, ease to use, streamlined, and sharp.
Boxing Beyond Utility
Any discussion of trees or wood with Bob Taylor is a gas, and highly instructive. He loves the stuff and has dabbled before in amplifier designs that made wood an integral feature, rather than just trim. But the Circa 74 is more than just an aesthetic exercise. Because the Taylor gang started to think in a relatively unorthodox way about acoustic sound amplification—eschewing the notion that flat frequency response is the only path to attractive acoustic tone.
I completely get this. I kind of hate flat-response speakers. I hate nice monitors. We used to have a joke at a studio I frequented about a pair of monitors that often made us feel angry and agitated. Except that they really did. Flat sound can be flat-out exhausting and lame. What brings me happiness is listening to Lee “Scratch” Perry—loud—on a lazy Sunday on my secondhand ’70s Klipsch speakers. One kind of listening is like staring at a sun-dappled summer garden gone to riot with flowers. The other sometimes feels like a stale cheese sandwich delivered by robot.
The idea that live acoustic music—and all its best, earthy nuances—can be successfully communicated via a system that imparts its own color is naturally at odds with acoustic culture’s ethos of organic-ness, authenticity, and directness. But where does purity end and begin in an amplified acoustic signal? An undersaddle pickup isn’t made of wood. A PA with flat-response speakers didn’t grow in a forest. So why not build an amp with color—the kind of color that makes listening to music a pleasure and not a chore?
To some extent, that question became the design brief that drove the evolution of the Circa 74. Not coincidentally, the Circa 74 feels as effortless to use as a familiar old hi-fi. It has none of the little buttons for phase correction that make me anxious every time I see one. There’s two channels: one with an XLR/1/4" combo input, which serves as the vocal channel if you are a singer; another with a 1/4" input for your instrument. Each channel consists of just five controls—level, bass, middle, and treble EQ, and a reverb. An 11th chickenhead knob just beneath the jewel lamp governs the master output. That’s it, if you don’t include the Bluetooth pairing button and 1/8" jacks for auxiliary sound sources and headphones. Power, by the way, is rated at 150 watts. That pours forth through a 10" speaker.Pretty in Practice
I don’t want to get carried away with the experiential and aesthetic aspects of the Circa 74. It’s an amplifier with a job to do, after all. But I had fun setting it up—finding a visually harmonious place among a few old black-panel Fender amps and tweed cabinets, where it looked very much at home, and in many respects equally timeless.
Plugging in a vocal mic and getting a balance with my guitar happened in what felt like 60 seconds. Better still, the sound that came from the Circa 74, including an exceedingly croaky, flu-addled human voice, sounded natural and un-abrasive. The Circa 74 isn’t beyond needing an assist. Getting the most accurate picture of a J-45 with a dual-source pickup meant using both the treble and midrange in the lower third of their range. Anything brighter sounded brash. A darker, all-mahogany 00, however, preferred a scooped EQ profile with the treble well into the middle of its range. You still have to do the work of overcoming classic amplification problems like extra-present high mids and boxiness. But the fixes come fast, easily, and intuitively. The sound may not suggest listening to an audiophile copy of Abbey Road, as some discussions of the amp would lead you to expect. But there is a cohesiveness, particularly in the low midrange, that does give it the feel of something mixed, even produced, but still quite organic.
The Verdict
Taylor got one thing right: The aesthetic appeal of the Circa 74 has a way of compelling you to play and sing. Well, actually, they got a bunch of things right. The EQ is responsive and makes it easy to achieve a warm representation of your acoustic, no matter what its tone signature. It’s also genuinely attractive. It’s not perfectly accurate. Instead, it’s rich in low-mid resonance and responsive to treble-frequency tweaks—lending a glow not a million miles away from a soothing home stereo. I think that approach to acoustic amplification is as valid as the quest for transparency. I’m excited to see how that thinking evolves, and how Taylor responds to their discoveries.
Simple elegance and lush tone define this pair of high-quality, medium-priced guitars designed for players looking for onstage panache and sweet vintage sounds.
Excellent playability, glamour, simplicity, and great tones define this budget-priced but high-quality blast from Gibson’s past.
None, unless you require a neck pickup on your instruments or find the body shape inhibiting.
$1,299
Epiphone 1963 Firebird 1
epiphone.com
Epiphone Firebird I
When Gibson debuted the Firebird I and Firebird V in 1963, the design was as innovative as it was radical. Like the Flying V and Explorer, the Firebird seemed Martian—or at least like a work of futurist art, with its offset body shape, extended lower and upper bouts, reverse headstock, and through-body neck.
Firebirds came in three versions: The single-pickup Firebird I, the two-humbucker Firebird V, and the three-pickup Firebird VII, with the latter two featuring a Vibrola tailpiece, trapezoid inlays, and neck binding. The first time I saw a Firebird in action, it was in the hands of Johnny Winter, who gave no quarter as he ripped conflagrant solos from its fretboard, but Brian Jones, Clapton, Allen Collins, Paul Stanley, and Phil Manzanera also helped make the model a legend. Original ’60s Firebird V’s sell for as much as $35,000, and reissues peak at nearly $10,000 for the Gibson Custom Shop’s ’63 Firebird V. That’s a lot of dough to look badass on stage. But now, Epiphone—in collaboration with Gibson’s Custom Shop—has taken high-quality reissues of the 1963 Firebird I and V into a more affordable realm. They’re still pricey for an Epi’, at $1,299 and $1,699, respectively, but undeniably brimming with panache.
“I was surprised by how sweet and heavy Gibson’s Firebird Mini Humbuckers sound. There is nothing mini about their tone.”
An’ a I, an’ a V
Our review Firebirds arrived impeccably set up, with action low enough for speed, but high enough for slide—my comfort zone, coincidentally. They are handsome guitars too. The I is finished in gleaming cherry, while the V is decked out in vintage sunburst and a shiny Vibrola tailpiece.
The necks are the not-so-secret weapons on these models. They are 9-ply mahogany and walnut (original Firebirds have a 5-ply neck), sandwiched between mahogany wings, but both guitars are still fairly light. The I is 7 1/2 pounds and the V weighs about 9 pounds due to the additional pickup and bridge hardware. There are 22 comfortable, medium-jumbo frets, which allow easy navigation and elegant bends, a Graph Tech nut, dot neck inlays on the I and trapezoids on the V, a classic Gibson-scale neck length of 24 3/4", and an Indian laurel fretboard. The banjo-style Kluson Planetary tuners, as well as the reverse headstock, take time to get to use to, but contribute to the instruments sleek, clean lines. The Firebird I’s electronics are simply a master volume and tone, with CTS pots and Mallory caps inside, in service of a warm-to-cutting single alnico 5 Gibson USA Firebird Mini Humbucker. The V offers more ways to shape your tone: The Vibrola is cool and vibey and there’s a classic four-dial Gibson control set (also routed through Mallory caps and CTS pots), a 3-way pickup switch on the lower bout, and a pair of those Gibson USA Firebird Mini Humbuckers.
Epiphone Firebird V
Trial by Firebird
I was sure I would prefer the Firebird V playing experience, because I am typically a neck-pickup player, but both guitars revealed sonic charms through Carr Vincent and Telstar amps running in stereo, my vintage Marshall Super Lead, and a Positive Grid Spark.
Low-action setups on both accommodate everything from campfire chords to screaming single-note playing past the 12th fret, with the perfectly smooth fret ends and comfortable neck making it all a pleasure. The neck broadens to 2 1/4" at the body, from 1 3/4" at the nut, making it easy to hit high notes accurately. But what really excited me, besides how artful these guitars look, is the power and sound of the pickups.
I was surprised by how sweet and heavy Gibson’s Firebird Mini Humbuckers sound. There is nothing mini about their tone, whether slashing and growling through the Marshall or pouring thick honey out of the Carrs. And through the Spark, a highly pleasing snarl and juicy warmth were all on tap. Despite my predilection for neck pickups, I became really excited by the Firebird I. The simplicity and elegance of its look, streamlined controls, clean surface, and light weight made the I a joy to play, especially with the treble rolled to near-zero. There, early Clapton-esque tone was a cinch to find, and for blues and pseudo-jazz-licks (the best I can muster in that genre), the warmth and clarity were delightful. Despite its basic construction, the Epiphone Firebird I is assuredly more than a rock machine.
Sure, having the addition of a neck pickup on the Firebird V provides a wider selection of tones, but the voices achievable on the I were no less winning and, honestly, I could not find any pickup-and-dial configuration on the V that sounded all that different or better than those available on the I. But, ah, a Vibrola is a very nice appointment—not just for its grand appearance, which is like some antiquarian treasure, but for the subtle bends its enables. If atmospheric guitar tones from the Ventures to Hermanos Gutiérrez are your passion, you’d want the Vibrola, which stays remarkably in tune, given its relatively primitive design.
The Verdict
Make no mistake: With their uncommonly proportioned offset bodies and reverse headstocks, guitars like the Epiphone Firebird I and V require time to get acquainted. But if you’re unafraid to stand out from the crowd, these instruments will serve you visually and sonically. Both play well and offer a good scope of vintage tones—from aggressive to dark maple sugar—with simple dial adjustments. And while many other Epiphone models sell for less, these well-crafted copies of original Gibson designs provide custom-shop or boutique-builder quality at a much lower price. PG
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