If you really want Clapton’s Cream tones, you’ve got to go with humbuckers, so I auditioned the Orangecream with a Les Paul. In front of a ’60s Fender Bassman (with the Orangecream’s crunch knob nearly maxed and sustain at about 4 o’clock), the attack is quick and precise, with a top-end fizz that complements a Les Paul’s naturally bassy character. Rolling back the crunch emphasizes the low-end—a great setting for rhythm, though lead dynamics could become a bit lost in a loud band.
Ratings
Pros:
Cool vintage-flavored fuzz/distortion.
Cons:
Not much volume available past unity.
Tones:
Ease of Use:
Build/Design:
Value:
Street:
$150
The Juliet Collective Orangecream
thejulietcollective.com
Switching to an Orange Rockerverb 50 MKII amp, I paired the Orangecream with a selection of Fender single-coils. Dirty amp settings aren’t the best match in this situation—a dirty Orangecream setting through a dirty amp tends to squash the interesting overtones that the Orangecream delivers in spades. But a mildly overdriven amp handles the Orangecream well, and single-coils let me ride the pedal’s crunch harder without sacrificing amp gain or obscuring the low end. High crunch and volume settings on the Orangecream yield aggressive, filthy tones reminiscent of a germanium Fuzz Face with the fuzz and volume controls wide-open. It’s here that the Clapton associations start to make sense. Vintage Gilmour fans will also dig these tones, especially with some added delay.
My last test amp was with a VHT Special 12/20 RT. This open-back combo setup didn’t reveal any unexpected nuances, though it did magnify a one concern some players may have with this pedal: the fact that even maxed out, levels are only marginally louder than unity gain. (In this regard, the Orangecream resembles the original fuzzes that inspired it.) You might need to add an additional boost pedal to get your guitar way out front for a big lead.
The VerdictThe Orangecream may not be a vintage circuit (at least not 1967-style vintage), but its parallel clipping stages deliver the muscular and vocal qualities of the classic ’60s Marshall-fuzz-and-humbuckers recipe with surprising effectiveness. It responds best through a clean amp with ample headroom, but works equally well with humbuckers and single-coils. Its ability to toe the line between fuzz and distortion yields unique sonic results that should intrigue many fuzz and distortion freaks.
Watch the Review Demo:
In Search Of…
The Circadia is nothing if not an eyeful. The graphics, which are actually screened onto a thin piece of plastic and applied to the round metal chassis, aren’t likely to be mistaken for anything else on your pedalboard. The control set is a little unconventional, too, and it takes a few minutes of playing with the thing before you really understand how they work together.
The Mode function enables you to scroll through the Circadia’s preset polyrhythms, which play behind your picking, and the presets range from cool, Bolerostyle 3/4 rhythms to drum-and-bass-type syncopations and four-on-the-floor beats. Rhythms are visually represented through the glowing, multicolored JC logo on the left of the pedal, which looks a lot like a lighted disco floor.
The tempo of any preset can be altered with the Speed knob, which can take your preset rhythm to the stratosphere or slow things to a glacial crawl. Twisting it completely counterclockwise selects tap-tempo mode, which is activated by turning the pedal off and then on again.
The Fat knob makes wah swells rounder and more vowel-like as you turn it clockwise. The Level control is both aggressively voiced and reactive—especially when you use the Fat knob to create resonant peaks. At high Level settings, the peaks can be downright dangerous, but set just right they can be a funky accent for solos.
…The Lost Wah
Thanks to the polyrhythm presets, the Circadia does things that no ordinary wah or auto-wah can do. Slow, odd-meter tempos create cool, wah-like swells ideal for rhythmically oriented ambient work or slower soul and blues tunes—and they can also inspire cool counterpoints to a vocal melody, or even a whole drum part.
For the latter reason, control freaks may have a hard time with the Circadia. It often does seem to have a mind of its own. And it may, at times, ask you to play to what it’s doing instead of the other way around. But jamming away in my rehearsal space with a drummer, a syncopated rhythm played off a simple funk rhythm became a whole new groove, mood, and song. In this way, the Circadia has the potential to be one of those magic bullets when you’re in a compositional rut. It may not have the answer you were looking for, but it can lead you down paths you may not have known to exist.
Tweaking the Fat knob gives you a Funkadelic-/Garcia-esque envelope filter effect, regardless of the tempo, and the resonant peaks can punctuate percussive picking in an intriguing way.
The Verdict
The Juliet Collective Circadia will take you on an adventure every time you plug it in. However, it demands that you release a lot of preconceptions about how a pedal should work—and at times you almost have to regard it as an accompanist or an additional member of your band who leads the way. The controls aren’t entirely intuitive, either, but this isn’t really a pedal for a player who wants things neat and easy, anyway. Sign up at your own risk, but get ready for a wild ride.
Buy if...
you’re fearlessly adventurous and intrigued by the thought of an auto-wah that sometimes seems to have a mind of its own.
Skip if...
4/4 time is about as tricky as you like to get.
Rating...
Street $239 - The Juliet Collective - thejulietcollective.com |
| <<< Previous Review: Subdecay Octasynth | Next Review: Pigtronix Tremvelope >>> |