A great amp builder builds a boost that—surprise—feels like a seamless extension of your amplifier.
Many boost pedals claim transparency. Dusky Electronics makes no such boasts for their MOSFET-driven Mandorla boost. In fact, they go out of their way to call it a colored boost. So I laughed when I plugged in the Mandorla and thought, “It’s so transparent!” Upon reflection, and after a trip around the simple two-knob control set, I agreed with Dusky’s assessment. I didn’t hear transparency, but something better—a seamless interface between guitar and amp that retains the personality of both while expanding the tonal range of each.
It makes sense that Mandorla comes from the mind of an amp builder. At times, it can have a console preamp’s sensitivity and equalization power. It feels direct and immediate. The boost is considerable. But the real flexibility comes from the “meat” control that functions as a treble boost/bass cut left of noon and a bass boost clockwise from center. For little amps like my Champ, it can lend a steroidal muscularity that makes an 8" speaker feel like a 12"—especially in recording situations. On bigger amps, the treble boost capability is the star, adding a charged and reactive presence that makes leads and slashing chords rip.
Test gear: Fender '72 Telecaster Deluxe (neck pickup), Fender Champ
More and Meat controls at noon, 2 o'clock, 3 o'clock, and finally More at 3 o'clock and Meat at maximum.
Ratings
Pros:
Dynamic and sensitive controls and circuit. Console preamp sensitivity and color. Great range of treble and bass boost sounds.
Cons:
Bigger knobs might be nice for toe adjustment.
Street:
$160
Dusky Electronics Mandorla
duskyamps.com
Tones:
Ease of Use:
Build/Design:
Value:
In a world awash with Tele and Strat remakes, it’s fun to stumble across quirky outliers.
Are you obsessed with guitar books? Those coffee-table tomes that feature gorgeous photos of vintage guitars or explore the history of different genres and great players? Even as a kid I was fascinated with guitars and guitar design, and to feed my passion I made a “guitar section” on my bedroom bookshelf—right next to my prized comics. I remember having quite a few books by Tony Bacon (you rule, dude!), but the first book that truly blew me away was a Japanese offering called Bizarre Guitars of the 60s by Hiroyuki Noguchi. It was written almost entirely in Japanese and only sold in Japan, but a Japanese friend bought it for me and brought it to the States to blow my mind. Seriously folks, if you haven’t seen this, you need to find a copy. [Editor’s note: This 226-page book is out of print but is occasionally available from used book sellers at a price that reflects its scarcity.]
I’m riffing about my all-time favorite guitar book because after its publication in the early ’90s there was a small resurgence of adventurous vintage guitar designs, and this coincided with the renewed interest in such brands as Teisco and Guyatone. One of the more obscure yet cool offerings from this period is exemplified by the two FujiGen guitars shown in Photos 1 and 2.
At that time, FujiGen was building most of the Fender Japan guitars, and that’s when they decided to branch out and introduce their own unique designs. Among some of the first guitars to actually feature the FujiGen name on the headstock, these are often referred to as “PP” models, based on the neck stamps and catalog designations. They offered a retro-cool headstock and body design that combined elements of Valco, Galanti, Teisco, and Danelectro.
I remember reading that Kurt Cobain admired the band Shonen Knife, and as it happened, the first time I saw one of these FujiGen guitars, it was strapped around the band’s guitarist, Naoko Yamano. FujiGen designed these instruments in part as a signature model for her, and the red one here is an example of her preferred 6-string.
These FujiGens were offered in various gloss and matte finishes, and with different components, but they all featured basswood bodies and maple necks, high-quality tuners, good electronics, and really interesting pickups. There were even bass models available, which are now particularly rare. These lightweight instruments feature the attention to detail that’s typical of all the guitars that come from the FujiGen factory.
Looking back now, these guitars were just a blip on the timeline of music history, as they were only made for a year or two. In fact, the oddball vintage guitar resurgence of the ’90s didn’t last very long, but it was a great time to be buying weird guitars on the cheap. (You may recall that back then even Fender Mustangs and Jaguars fell into this category, and you could score them for a fraction of today’s vintage prices.) If you want to feast your eyes on page after page of quirky, yet intriguing instruments, track down a copy of Bizarre Guitars of the 60s and prepare to be amazed.
Watch the video demo:
In his new column, Fryette Amplification's head honcho riffs about taking a holistic view of the instrument.
Your sound. Every player’s quest for “that sound” is a journey—a lifelong pursuit that can lead to unexpected places. And we can go as deep as time, patience, and diligence will allow. For example, finding the ideal amplifier can be as simple as grabbing whatever you have at hand, plugging in, and playing, or as complex as scouring internet forums, poring over magazine articles, and investing time and cash in hands-on experimentation. Along the way, our path is littered with rabbit holes—some worth exploring, some not. This is how we gain knowledge and experience, and hopefully discover what works best for us.
In my many years on this road, I’ve come to understand the role of the amplifier—in particular, a tube amplifier—as the other half of the instrument that includes your guitar. I reject the concept of the guitar as the instrument and the amplifier as the less important appliance. It’s vital to understand how the guitar interacts with the amplifier and its speaker. I always think of the combination of guitar, amp, and speaker as the instrument.
When we play, the whole instrument reacts. The strings induce the pickups to send a voltage—the signal—to the amp, which sends a larger voltage to the speaker, which converts that voltage to acoustic sound, which impacts us directly via the speaker and indirectly via reflections in our playing environment. Our playing volume is determined by how we set the amp and by how much power we have at our disposal. If it’s a big amp played loud, there’ll be an immediate physical impact when we dig into the guitar and directly experience the amplifier driving the strings under our fingers. If it’s a little amp, we can more freely lay into it, and we enjoy the sound and fury generated by pushing it over the top. There’s a reason why players always say, “It sounded great just before it blew up.”
Yet, it’s how we play, not what we play, that matters most. To underscore the importance of the will of the player in this equation, it’s helpful to remember that both Dick Dale and Jimi Hendrix played Strats, and that live video exists of Hendrix playing through Fender Showmans with 15" JBLs, Dale’s iconic weapon of choice. Yet listening to each master, we’d never confuse one for the other.
Getting the right balance of tone, distortion, volume, and acoustic feedback, especially in a live performance, is as much about luck as it is planning. Of course, there’s tone-tweaking, where one can endlessly obsess about the subtleties of the rig’s component parts, and then there’s performing, where the goal is to leave all those obsessions behind and surrender to the moment. It often happens that the gig is where you’ll encounter every possible obstacle to a satisfying performance. Given that, a fair amount of planning is necessary, but experience tells us that preparation can be overdone. We’ve all had those nights when the music feels off and it seems your instrument just won’t cooperate. You think you sounded terrible, yet after the show people keep coming up to tell you it was the best they’d heard you play.
Being comfortable and conversant with your instrument—and remember, we’re talking about the entire length of the signal chain from fingertips to speaker cone—is one way to make sure your rig isn’t going to trip you up when the going gets rough. A very simple rig consisting of a guitar and small amp may leave you wanting for embellishment, but there’s no denying that a minimalist approach can give you a lot of opportunity to act on inspiration and impulse. A more complex rig demands more of your attention and skill—sometimes to the detriment of your overall performance. You may find that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew onstage, even though it all seemed so familiar and easy to navigate in rehearsal.
As soon as you pluck a guitar string, things start happening to the idea in your head that gave rise to that first note. The amp lights up, the room fills with sound, you hear it, feel it, react to it, and build on it until you’ve fulfilled that moment of inspiration. Exploring the limits of your ability and imagination provides you with a stepping stone to the next moment of inspired noise. Being in touch with your instrument, whether it’s a simple plug-and-play affair or an agonizingly vetted assemblage of odds and ends, is the indispensable part of getting there.