Want to try your hand at stompbox assembly but don’t know where to start? We fired up our soldering irons to bring you a deep dive on making pedal kits.
Building your own pedal can feel unattainable—like something only geniuses and magicians can do. Or at least people who took an electronics course. Many of us are content to leave it that way. Those things on our boards sound cool when you click ’em, and that’s all we need to know. But some of us want to get our hands dirty and figure out what ticks behind the click. If you’re in the latter camp, this one’s for you.
There are a wealth of pedal-kit options today, from long-standing DIY-focused companies to established pedal builders who want to get in on the fun. But, really, how hard is building a pedal? Can any of us just, like, do it? And where are the best places to start?
Well, we’re here to tell you that, yes, any of us can. Both of us have limited experience—Jason is brand new, and Nick started building kits last year (you can watch his inauspicious beginnings over on our YouTube channel). But with nothing but some baseline soldering skills and a sense of adventure, we set out to survey the pedal-kit market by doing. What we’ve assembled are six kits from JHS, Third Man, StewMac, Aion FX, General Guitar Gadgets, and Pedal Parts and Kits that range from the simplest no-solder option to step-by-step builds to kits that’ll have you testing components and following wiring diagrams to complete the task. We’ve rated each kit: “tone” for the overall sound of the pedal, “design/build” for the experience of building the kit, and “value.”
If you build a few of these, you’ll probably end up with a better idea of what your pedals are doing, pick up some skills, and have some new pedals for much cheaper than you might otherwise. The next step is learning to mod and design your own circuits, and then you’ll be on your way to launching your own pedal company!
Pedal Parts and Kits sells all the parts and components you might need for pedal building, plus a variety of kits created in collaboration with GuitarPCB, which sells printed circuit boards (PCBs) and hosts a forum. I opted for their Pump’d Up Tone Bender, which is a MkII clone featuring vintage germanium PNP transistors. This design adds a charge pump to the power section, inverting the circuit to a modern negative ground, and allows the pedal to be daisy chained.
Right out of the box, I was impressed by the packaging of the Pump’d Up Tone Bender (PUTB). Each component group was separated into its own bag and clearly labeled. The resistors were separated by value, which made it easy to get started.
Tone Bender circuits are relatively simple, and this kit includes a handful of resistors and capacitors and a single IC. The germanium transistors include sockets, which makes installation easy, plus they allow for some transistor experimentation later if that’s your kind of thing. The kit includes a well-spaced 3PDT board for easy switch installation.
Documentation for the PUTB doesn’t include step-by-step instructions. Instead, Pedal Parts and Kits offers an online beginners build guide that will help any entry-level kit builder get started. I followed the included wiring diagram. It's clear and easy to follow, so I had no problem getting this together in a couple hours. The only time I went off script is with the pots, which can be mounted directly to the PCB, but I chose to wire them up instead.
The PUTB is a great-sounding Tone Bender MkII clone, with all the personality, versatility, and response you’d expect. There’s a world of usable, cutting tones across the range of the control set, and I could feel myself channeling Jimmy Page when I plugged my Tele and the PUTB into an old Fender Champ. At $85, if you’re up to the task, the PUTB is a fantastic way to get your hands on a MkII.—NM
Entering the General Guitar Gadgets realm can feel like wading into the deep end of the pedal-kit pool. Their site is loaded with a wide range of projects, and PCBs and kits are the company’s sole business. And if you’re at the point you’re ready to peruse schematics, the GGG site is a great resource because they make schematics available for each project.
Every GGG kit includes universal pedal-building instructions, project-specific instructions, a schematic, and a wiring diagram. Like the Pump’d Up Tone Bender build, this is for more experienced builders, not necessarily because it’s complicated but because the directions are more streamlined.
The D-Verb is based around the Belton Accutronics BTDR-2H, aka the “Belton Brick” reverb designed by Brian Neunaber. It’s a commonly used digital spring reverb module that can be found in plenty of pedals from small and large manufacturers. The pedal’s circuit consists of a handful of resistors, a few capacitors, one transistor, a pair of IC chips, and the reverb block.
The circuit board came together fast and the reverb block simply plugs into the PCB and gets a round of solder. The trickiest part of this kit is wiring up the footswitch, which doesn’t include a circuit board, so you have to get in there and connect everything yourself. It can be tricky to wire a switch for the first time, but it’s a good learning experience that’ll show you, at least a little bit, what’s going on in your switches.
The pedal sounds great—there’s a reason so many pedals use the Belton Brick. While most of those units include other controls or more advanced circuitry, the D-Verb is a simple, 1-knob effect that controls less or more. At subtle settings, it sounds suitably springy, while cranking the control adds some soft repeats with a nice level of drip. Overall, an easy build for a great no-frills reverb unit. —NMVintage-style fuzzes are the ultimate fodder for DIY pedal builders. Some of the best fuzz pedals consist of just a few components, so it’s easy to get your hands on a great circuit even when you’re just developing your skills. There are plenty of places to get started on your kit-building journey, but I’d argue that the Third Man Fuzz-a-Tron sets a new benchmark.
The Fuzz-a-Tron’s circuit is simple, consisting of just two transistors, four capacitors in two sizes, and four resistors that are all the same value, so there’s no testing components—just open the bag and get going. The confined space of small enclosures can be a real patience-tester, and tightly packed PCBs can make for some stressful soldering. The Fuzz-a-Tron alleviates those issues with a well-spaced PCB and an enclosure with plenty of space to maneuver. Once it’s all finished, builders can customize their wedge-shaped box with the included sticker sheet.
Third Man not only included detailed step-by-step instructions with the Fuzz-a-Tron, but made a build-along video that takes any guesswork out of the process and makes this the most well-documented kit I’ve seen.
The Fuzz-a-Tron sounds as retro as its shape suggests. Its volume and tone controls are interactive, and I prefer both fully cranked, where it sizzles like a Fuzzrite, but with a little less cutting treble and a tight midrange. Although there’s no LED on this pedal, which some will dislike, that is in line with plenty of vintage fuzzes. You’ll know whether it’s on or not, no matter the setting.
The Fuzz-a-Tron offers the best learning experience for beginning builders. That alone justifies your time. If the stickers feel a little gimmicky, don’t use ’em and decorate it on your own. Ultimately, the Fuzz-a-Tron’s vintage-voiced tone and great looks make it an essential stop on the kit-building journey. —NM
The Klon Centaur is arguably the most imitated circuit there is—even with DIY kits. A little over a decade ago, JHS made their own Klon clone, but it was discontinued after Klon’s Bill Finnegan started making the KTR. (On Reverb, these rare JHS models are going for close to $1,000.) Last November, JHS introduced the NOTAKLÖN, which is a complete pedal kit, but with a twist—no soldering skills needed. Admittedly, that puts the barrier to entry much lower than the other kits represented here, which makes this a solid first step for those looking for a foolproof initial build.
Building the NOTAKLÖN isn’t unlike building a very useful Lego project. The directions are mostly picture-based, all the parts fit together, and they include a few tools that you can punch out directly from the circuit board. Company founder Josh Scott even remembered to include a bit of GOOP to cover up those “magic” diodes.
I’ve tried quite a few Klon clones, and I have to say this JHS is up there with the very best. It gives you that real pronounced midrange, and paired with a slightly dirty amp, it can be set up for an incredible boost. The bonus feature is the switch on the front that works in Scott’s Shamrock mod, which adds more volume, mids, and an extra clipping gain stage.
Within about 20 minutes, I had gone from opening the box to kicking it on for the first time. The build feels incredibly solid. Combined with the extremely streamlined directions and the nearly unbeatable $99 price tag, the Notaklön delivers on nearly every front.—JSNot many guitarists are as closely connected to a singular tone as Robben Ford is to his Dumble Overdrive Special. Even though Dumble’s creations cover a wide range of tones, it’s Ford’s Dumble that set the benchmark. The original Hermida Zendrive was one of the first pedals that copped that D-style tone. Aion FX’s Azimuth is a DIY version that’s great for beginners since it doesn’t include a lot of parts, but teaches you plenty about basic pedal construction.
The kits from Aion are impeccably assembled. You get a bag of all the parts and components, a powder-coated enclosure, and a thoughtfully created build document. This was the very first pedal I ever built, so I needed to get my soldering skills together, but after that, assembly went very smoothly. In retrospect, I really like how Aion chooses ribbon connectors and enclosed input/output jacks for their builds. It keeps down, or limits, the amount of loose wires down and prevents any bad connections.
I previously owned a Lovepedal-era Zendrive and remembered how dynamic and smooth it sounded. Naturally, after playing the Azimuth, I was really regretting selling that pedal. With this circuit, the magic is really in the voice control, which helps tailor the low-end response. As you can hear in the clips, it sounds full and round, with plenty of punch. If the used prices for a Zendrive are a bit out of reach, then getting your hands on an Azimuth—even with the extra work—would be well worth it.—JS
Tremolo might be one of my favorite effects. Adding a bit of whirl to an arpeggio or doubling a lead line with something more aggressive that borders on a ring mod is always fun. StewMac has long been a go-to for any kind of repair tools, but their line of DIY pedal kits are sturdy, useful, and fun. Out of their line of kits, I chose the Fan Tremolo not only because of my fandom (sorry), but also because this circuit offers three different flavors: vintage-style ’60s, heavier ’70s style, and a pristine digital version.
This was the second pedal I had built, and I’m glad my soldering skills were proven before I started because this design needed a slightly more delicate touch. Plus, it tested my troubleshooting abilities, which is necessary no matter what kit you’re building.
Out of the box, the components were high-quality and the step-by-step instructions were clear and concise. Out of the three builds I did for this story, this was the only one that really gave me a crash course in deciphering the color bands on resistors. This is one step where a multimeter can help alleviate any doubts between brown and violet and black. After sorting all the parts, it took me most of an afternoon to complete the entire build.
My favorite setting was the thicker ’70s sound. It’s chewy and warm. Admit it: It’s nearly impossible not to break into “Born on the Bayou” when you're rocking a trem at a very specific speed. Although it had a bit more wire work and took a focused touch in certain places, the Fan Tremolo would be a solid first step for aspiring pedal builders who want to dip into modulation. Just take your time.—JS
A gift from Gary Holt, a bastardized Jazzmaster, a Squier baritone, bountiful boards, and stacks of amps litter the rocker’s tone bunker.
The 2000s were an odd period for music sales. The decade was a tale of polar opposites. Songs and albums never exchanged hands faster (thanks to file-sharing services like Napster and LimeWire), and thus the industry's sales plummeted.
During the aughts, one of the few acts growing through the free-streaming floodwaters, were the dark, theatrical rockers My Chemical Romance who melded punk, post-hardcore, indie, and glam. Singer Gerard Way started the band in late 2001 after the 9/11 attacks. He recruited drummer Matt Pelissier (replaced by Bob Bryar in 2004), lead guitarist Ray Toro, his brother Mikey Way for bass, and in early 2002 Frank Iero joined.
As a result of their skyrocketing success, the quintet went from opening dive bars to selling out arenas in eight fast years. 2002's debut for Eyeball Records, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, was a scorcher (and sold over 3 million copies). The follow up, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, had the fist-pumping hooks for TRL, but still retained the edge for the pits. 2006's soaring anthemic concept album, The Black Parade, learned from past classics (A Night at the Opera, Sgt. Pepper, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness), became a triple-platinum smash with the title track perching them on top of two charts (Billboard's U.S. Alternative and U.K. Singles Chart). And 2010's Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys dialed back the rage and ramped up the fun producing a rushing ride.
While the band did release new music (collection of singles eventually becoming a compilation, Conventional Weapons), they took a hiatus. Iero took this an opportunity to step out from just rhythm duties and added frontman to his resume.
First releasing Stomachaches as frnkiero and the cellabration in 2014. He followed that up by forming Frank Iero and the Patience who produced Parachutes (LP) in 2016 and Keep The Coffins Coming (EP) in 2017. After surviving a harrowing accident where he was drug approximately 10 feet by a passenger bus in Australia, he found catharsis in music and created Frank Iero and the Future Violents. So far, they've dropped Barriers (LP) in 2019 and earlier this year Heaven is a Place, This is a Place (EP).
Just after putting out his offbeat, stirring 4-song collection (complete with a ghostly cover or R.E.M.'s “Losing My Religion"), the good-time guitarist virtually welcomed PG's Chris Kies into his Jersey-based home and gear haven.
In this episode, Iero introduces us to his oddball offsets and sentimental single-cuts, he explains how unusual tunings and pinky rings give his “broken" riffs an extra off-kilter sound and extra gunk, and we witness how a pandemic turned his basement into a pedal warehouse.
D'Addario XPND Pedalboard:https://www.daddario.com/XPNDRR
One of Iero’s newest guitars is this Fender American Professional II Jazzmaster finished in dark knight. (Iero calls this 6-string “Batman.”) His two favorite appointments are slight tweaks on the classic design—the responsive Panorama Tremolo and the sculpted neck heel improving access and comfortability.
Depending on the instrument and tuning, Frank will go with Ernie Ball Slinkys in various configurations of .011s to compensate for lower tunings and looser tension.
For My Chemical Romance, they’re typically tuned to standard for Future Violents stuff he rides in Eb standard.
Here’s a signature guitar owned by Iero, but it’s not his namesake instrument. He and Gary Holt become fast friends and the thrasher for Slayer and Exodus offered a guitar swap. So Iero got Holt’s ESP LTD GH-600 sig and Holt requested his Ampeg Dan Armstrong AMG100 BK reissue featured in the video for Iero and the Future Violents’ rollercoaster “Young and Doomed”.
When touring with his first solo band (Frank Iero and the Celebration), they visited a guitar boutique in a Canadian mall. He picked up a Squier Vintage Modified Baritone Jazzmaster and quickly began coming up with fresh ideas on the spot. Not wanting to deal with customs, he went online, ordered his own Antigua model and it showed up to his New Jersey doorstep before he finished the tour. Tuned to A#, the baritone was workhorse for his last full-length release, Barriers, and his just-released EP.
Always on the lookout for something unusual and different, Iero was on tour in Cincinnati scooped this Frankenstein Fender offset that has a ’50s body matched with a ’90s neck.
During My Chemical Romance’s rise, Iero’s main guitar was a white Epiphone Les Paul nicknamed “Pansy.” He’s since retired it from the road and was tired of playing similar same single-cut, humbucker-loaded guitars. As seen in this Rundown, he’s got instruments of many shapes, sizes, and configurations, but he’s always loved a white Les Paul. Wanting to bring one back into the fold, a serendipitous phone call from Thunder Road Guitars’ owner Frank Gross put this 1992 Gibson Les Paul Custom into Iero’s growing collection.
“If you’re looking for something affordable that you can rip on, I don’t think you can beat this one,” says Iero when playing this 2020 reissue of the Epiphone Coronet.
With touring plans still up in the air for 2021, Iero is unsure if he’ll go fully digital, full tube, or a hybrid approach, but he did admit that this Fender Twin Reverb will for sure be the clean tone. (And for those keeping track at home, this is the amp he played during the Rundown.)
The last Future Violents tour saw Iero bring out the aforementioned Twin Reverb and the above Supro Black Magick.
Like most of us, during the pandemic, pedalboards became fluid and tone hunting was a mind-saving pastime. Iero was no exception as you’ll see in the next few slides he has some mainstays, but nothing is permanent.
Here’s his closest gig-ready stomp station that has time-based effects and modulation on the left side (Fender Marine Layer Reverb, vintage Pearl CH-02 Chorus, old Boss DM-2 Delay, Ibanez CF7 Chorus/Flanger, and Electro-Harmonix Holy Grail). The right side is home to menace (Marshall Blues Breaker, SNK Pedals VHD Distortion/Preamp, Keeley-modded Boss BD-2 Blues Driver, and Klon Centaur). Everything is controlled by the Carl Martin Octa-Switch MkII. Utilitarian units include a TC Electronic PolyTune 2 Mini, Ernie Ball VPJR volume pedal, and a Strymon Zuma power supply.
Here’s his mess-around-the-house board (with a fine tribute to EVH) that has a pair of Strymons (BigSky and Volante), an Ibanez DE7 Delay/Echo, gold Klon Centaur, Fuzzlord Effects Drone Master, Bowman Audio Endeavors The Bowman (company ran by Rig Rundown alumnus and Against Me! guitarist James Bowman), and a Ernie Ball VPJR Tuner Pedal.
His recording board is made up of versatile staples including a 4-pack of Strymons (Ola, Flint, El Capistan, and Iridium), Bowman Audio Endeavors Fortune and Glory, and a Templo Devices Model 33 Supa vibrato.
The reclusive pedal builder discusses the origins of his famed Centaur overdrive, the more affordable new KTR design, and how one pedal can inspire so much adoration and disdain.
If you've spent any amount of time on guitar-gear forums, you know they can often devolve into pretty abrasive battles of opinion. Even when a thread starts out with the best of intentions, it's not uncommon for it to morph into the online equivalent of a mythical Hydra. Forum administrators attempt to clean things up and lock out the more abusive commenters, but once they cut off one of the creature's heads, two more appear.
Of all the forum topics that can inspire such heated debate, few inspire more passion, awe, and vitriol than a guitar pedal named after a different sort of mythological creature. Launched in 1994 at the front end of the modern-day boutique-pedal boom, the Klon Centaur overdrive was immediately met with critical acclaim. So much so that it's ironic how much the pedal named after the half-human, half-horse creatures from Greek legend has since developed such a complex mythology of its own. And the fact that this seemingly mundane, 3-knob stompbox is used by such high-profile players as Jeff Beck, John Mayer, Joe Perry, Nels Cline, and Matt Schofield only compounds matters. Never mind the fact that the majority of the circuit comes encased in epoxy.
We recently spoke to Klon's Bill Finnegan about the origins of the Centaur, his new KTR design—which made a (naturally) limited debut in October of 2012—and how an overdrive pedal can fetch more than $1,000 on the used market and inspire such emotionally charged reactions.
Birth of a Centaur
In the 1980s, Bill Finnegan played in a band where he plugged his Telecaster straight into a Twin Reverb turned up as loud as the soundman would permit. In bigger Boston-area clubs, the Twin's volume would be at 6 or sometimes even 7, but in smaller places Finnegan could usually turn it up to only 3 1/2 or 4. The latter still sounded good, but not as harmonically rich as when the amp was working harder. Although it didn't occur to him at the time, a pedal that would give him the sound of a cranked amp is exactly what he needed.
Finnegan recalls that, in 1990, guitarists began chasing after out-of-production Ibanez Tube Screamers in droves. He'd heard about a guy who was selling two TS9s, and—hoping one of the little green pedals would help make his Twin sound like it was at 6 when it was only at 4—he went to check them out. It immediately became clear that Tube Screamers were not for him.
Finnegan built Centaurs—around 8,000 in total—by hand, on a cheap folding card table in a succession of small apartments for 15 years.
“[The TS9] compressed the transient response of the original signal a lot, had a midrange character I didn't like, and subtracted a noticeable amount of bass response from the signal as well," he explains. The same seller also had a TS808 that he wasn't selling. And, though Finnegan thought it sounded a little better than the TS9s, he still felt it had the aforementioned shortcomings. What he really wanted was a big, open sound, with a hint of tube clipping—a sound that would make you unaware a pedal was involved.
That's when Finnegan starting looking into creating a new design that would meet those criteria. He recruited a friend who'd just graduated from MIT with an electrical engineering degree. Though both had day jobs, for the next couple of years they got together once a week and tried to push the ball down the field. Within the first year, they'd developed prototypes that were much closer to what Finnegan wanted than a Tube Screamer, and various guitarists in the Boston area encouraged them to go into production so they could buy their own. But Finnegan felt the circuit could still be improved, so he and his partner kept working.
Eventually, the MIT friend bought a house in the suburbs and the distance made it harder to work together. Finnegan later partnered with the late Fred Fenning (who tragically passed away in a plane crash in the mid '90s)—another MIT grad whom Finnegan says was brilliant and very determined. Although Fenning had never designed an audio circuit and had no real interest in music, he was exceptionally good at finding ways to give the circuit what Finnegan thought it needed at any given time. Finnegan says Fenning deserves a lot of credit for the circuit in both the Centaur and its successor, the KTR.
Photo by Sarah Pollman
The entire design process took four and a half years, and when the pedal debuted at the end of '94 Finnegan was soon very busy trying to keep up with the demand—building, testing, and shipping the pedals as a single-man outfit.
Evolution of the Legend
From that point on, demand for Centaur pedals grew. Finnegan says he typically worked 55–60 hours per week in effort to keep turnaround times as short as possible, though he was hindered by the fact that the circuit was very labor intensive and time consuming. He also says it was more expensive to build than most other pedals due to the fact that everything from its cast enclosure to its knobs, pots, and sheet-metal bottom were custom crafted. Finnegan estimates the aggregate cost of a Centaur as seven to eight times that of a pedal built with off-the-shelf parts.
“For the last seven years or so of Centaur production, the retail price was $329," says Finnegan, “and to be honest, my profit margin was not very sensible—no real business person would have considered, for more than a moment, doing what I was doing for the return I was receiving. Also, given that I live in Boston, it was impossible for me to hire people and expand: Real estate here is in short supply and very expensive, so there was no possibility of my renting commercial space to set up an actual shop."
Finnegan built Centaurs—around 8,000 in total—by hand, on a cheap folding card table in a succession of small apartments for 15 years. In addition to the modest returns from his efforts, Finnegan says he felt immense stress as he tried to oblige those who wanted a Centaur but didn't want to pay the inflated price used specimens were fetching because of the 12- to 14-week turnaround time for a new one. It gradually became clear to Finnegan that the situation was unsustainable.
“These two photos show my testing jig for Centaur boards, with one of my experimental boards on it," Bill Finnegan shares. “The experimental boards have sockets for every component in the circuit, which enables me to listen to any particular component and then swap it out for a substitute while keep everything else the same. This experimental board is the one I used for developing the KTR. Unlike the Centaur which had through-hole components with leads, I wanted to use surface-mount components for the KTR, which meant that my assistant, John Perotti, and I had to spend an enormous amount of time soldering through-hole leads onto hundreds of very small surface-mount components so that we could evaluate them and choose the ones that would make the KTR sound the same as the Centaur did."
Photo by Nolan Yee.
“I was going to have to kill it before it could kill me," Finnegan recalls. In 2008, he began working on a ground-up redesign that had to meet the following criteria: It had to be straightforward to build, so that any good contract manufacturing firm would be able to do the job easily and well. It had to be rugged and reliable. It had to be a design with no hookup wires whatsoever, and with a modular footswitch assembly so that faulty footswitches could be replaced in a few minutes. It had to be considerably smaller than the Centaur. Except for the all-important clipping diodes, it had to have surface-mount components, which take up less space on a board than traditional through-hole components. Finnegan also wanted to prove—to himself and to those who said it couldn't be done—that, with careful component selection and smart board layout, he could design a successor that would sound exactly the same as the Centaur.
“This turned out to be quite a challenge," Finnegan says. “My assistant, John Perotti, and I spent almost two years listening to different surface-mount capacitors in various places in the circuit before I felt this had been achieved." Lastly, he wanted the new unit to be visually unique—a tall order, given that the unit would be housed in a standard enclosure.
I don't have any overall preference for single-coil guitars or humbucker guitars myself. I like pretty much everything under the sun in the way of electric guitars, and over the years I've owned a bunch of very different ones.
The one new feature Finnegan wanted to incorporate was a switch that enabled the player to choose the buffered output of the original Centaur or a true-bypass output. “Without the buffer there is a very noticeable degradation of the signal due to the capacitance inherent in guitar cables," says Finnegan, “but some people prefer it, so I wanted to provide that option in the new unit." He quickly adds, “My good friend Paul Cochrane—of Tim and Timmy [pedals] fame—was the guy who designed the switching circuitry, so a tip of the hat to Paul."
It took a long, long time to finish the KTR. And though Finnegan says it was much more difficult than he expected, he feels it has achieved all of his design objectives. “It sounds the same as the Centaur, takes up considerably less space on a pedalboard, is less expensive, and it's distinctive aesthetically—it's got the Klon thing going on." He laughs, “Whatever the Klon thing is."
You obviously have high expectations from your designs, though you're also perplexed by the reactions it inspires. What do you want people to see in Klon?
What I want people to expect from me and from Klon are designs that are exceptional in the literal sense of the term—designs that are conceptually sound and well executed. Designs that are unique and not to be expected from any other designer, no matter how talented.
When you were designing the Centaur, did you begin with any assumptions about players who'd be interested in it?
I was working from the assumption that there were a lot of guitar players with really good guitars and really good amps who were looking for an overdrive pedal that—whether it was adding dirt or not itself—wouldn't mess up what they already had and liked. Given the popularity of the Centaur and now the KTR, I would say that this has been borne out.
In your opinion, do the pedals work better with single-coils or humbuckers?
Neither. I don't have any overall preference for single-coil guitars or humbucker guitars myself. I like pretty much everything under the sun in the way of electric guitars, and over the years I've owned a bunch of very different ones. Each of them has its own particular thing going on, and when I was working on the design of the circuit I was always thinking about how it could be more effective in preserving and accentuating the essence of whatever instrument it was receiving the signal of.
What can you tell us about Centaur units that occasionally turn up on eBay with the claim that they are “new, with full warranty"—are they fakes?
I have a very close friend who is a single mom and whose job doesn't pay all that well. Every now and then she needs a little help, financially. I'm aware of what the used units are selling for, so at some point after I discontinued the Centaur it occurred to me that—if and when she needed me to—I could build a Centaur and give it to her to sell on eBay and use the proceeds to keep going. This has worked really nicely, and I'll continue to do it for as long as my old Centaur parts last. Since I discontinued the Centaur, a lot of people have asked me whether I'd consider building one for them—sometimes offering me pretty substantial amounts of money—but I'm not going to do that. The only Centaurs I build anymore are the ones I build for her, and I don't make or collect a single cent from them.
Klon builder Bill Finnegan wanted to include this text—which refers to the dialogue surrounding his famed Centaur design—on the casing of his new KTR pedal. “It's a wry observation that I can't be held responsible for the overheated emotions that have been introduced into various Klon debates since the earliest days of the Centaur," he says. “I knew that in using that text I'd be stirring things up some, but I thought it would be interesting and fun to see how, in reacting to it, people would self-select into either the 'love it' or the 'hate it' group."
Photo by Nolan Yee.
Do you think Centaurs will retain their high value now that the KTR is available?
Yes, in general I think they will. They're collectible and—with the one small exception I just mentioned—no more will be built, unless I'm very mistaken. For almost everyone, the KTR is a much more sensible option now: It sounds the same, it's much smaller, it's way the hell less expensive—$269 retail—and you don't have to worry about losing something that's worth $1,000 or $1,500 or $2,000 if it's stolen. On the other hand, the Centaur has something of its own that people really like and are willing to pay serious money for. The design has achieved a certain status—I would use the analogy of old, custom-colored Marshalls. I have two small-box, 50-watt Marshall Lead heads—model 1987s: One is a black-Tolex, aluminum-panel head from 1970, and the other is a red-Tolex, plexi-panel head from 1969. They have the same circuitry and sound almost identical, but of course the red one is worth way more than the black one. I like cool, distinctive things as much as the next guy, so I'm not in a position to criticize someone for being willing to pay more than I myself would, or more than most people would, if they want it that much.
What are the demographics of the typical Klon user?
It seems to be more or less everyone. Baby-boomer guys who are still only interested in the music they grew up with, but also a lot of younger, indie-rock people, and also a number of musicians whose work is more experimental and can't be easily categorized.
What can you tell us about the germanium diode you like so much in your circuits?
In 1993 and '94, when it was clear that Fred and I were getting close to producing what I thought was the full measure of what our circuit was capable of, I started buying quantities of every diode I thought might be at all suitable for the head-to-toe pair that clips the signal, except for when the circuit is in clean-boost mode. This was pre-internet, so I was going to the public library, looking up distributors in the Thomas Register, and then calling those distributors to find out what they had—email was still in the future then! I started out ordering both germanium and silicon diodes, but pretty quickly I began concentrating on the germaniums. Usually, though not always, they sounded more natural to me than the silicon ones did. After months and months of listening, I felt a particular new-old-stock germanium diode sounded best in the circuit, so I thought I should buy as many of those as I could afford. Eventually, I found a distributor that had a significant quantity of them. They were stocking them for a huge OEM, who—without any warning, I gather—stopped using that part. I bought them all at a good price. The distributor was thrilled to be able to sell them and not have to eat them.
Does the KTR have the same diodes?
Yes, the KTR has the exact same NOS diodes as all Centaurs did.
Since I discontinued the Centaur, a lot of people have asked me whether I'd consider building one for them—sometimes offering me pretty substantial amounts of money—but I'm not going to do that.
What is it you like about the sound of that diode when it clips?
It's a little more complicated than that, because the diode clipping happens on top of some op-amp clipping in the main gain stage. So it's op-amp clipping, then diode clipping. But to answer your question, this particular diode in the head-to-toe pair in the circuit just produces a very natural-sounding distortion in terms of the harmonic response. It's not harsh, but it also doesn't round off the highs excessively. It doesn't compress the signal as much as many germanium diodes seem to, but on the other hand it provides a little bit of what—to me—is exactly the right kind of compression.
Which other pedal makers are using this particular diode?
To the best of my knowledge, no one. It's a part that's been out of production for decades now, so even if someone else could identify it, I seriously doubt they'd be able to find any—I've tried a number of times myself.
So what are you working on now?
Lately, I've been focused almost entirely on putting together a good long-term arrangement for production of the KTR. This kind of thing has always been more of a challenge for me than it seems to be for anyone else, but I admit that I do have requirements—particular things I insist on—that few, if any of those other people have, so I guess that the increased difficulty is to be expected. I'm not saying that my stuff is necessarily higher quality than anyone else's, but rather that my criteria are somewhat different and that therefore the process is necessarily also somewhat different.
What is the current availability of the KTR?
The unit should be widely available—through dealers both here in the U.S. and in various other countries—by the time this interview is published. Hopefully by then I will have found time to get some kind of updated Klon website going, which of course will have contact info for the current dealers.
The top of the KTR features some text that's apparently causing controversy with some buyers: “Kindly remember: The ridiculous hype that offends so many is not of my making."
Lots of people got the point that I was trying to make and really enjoy the text, while other people find it off-putting or even insulting. It's a wry observation that I can't be held responsible for the overheated emotions that have been introduced into various Klon debates since the earliest days of the Centaur. I knew that in using that text I'd be stirring things up some, but I thought it would be interesting and fun to see how, in reacting to it, people would self-select into either the “love it" or the “hate it" group.
Photo by West Warren.
What does the future hold for Klon?
I've been thinking about this quite a bit lately. Part of me wants to work on design ideas I have—finish those designs to my satisfaction—and then make the resulting products available. The other side of me wants to either refrain from working on those ideas or work on them, finish them to my satisfaction, and then not put the resulting products out. As you may or may not know, many unscrupulous people have expropriated my hard work on the Centaur and KTR circuits and are selling pedals that incorporate my circuit—and in at least some cases, they're making a lot of money. And apparently there is nothing I can do about this from a legal standpoint.
Quite aside from the money they're making from my work, there's the question of what those pedals sound like. My understanding is that a number of those people are claiming their versions sound “identical" to mine, which—for reasons not only pertaining to the clipping diodes you asked me about—I think is very unlikely. Whatever expertise those various people may have, I'm going to go out on a limb and state my belief that it's not likely to be a good or sufficient substitute for the experience I have with the circuit: I co-designed it, I've hand-built and listened to about 8,000 Centaur units, I spent two years working hard to make sure the KTR would sound the same as the Centaur, and I've put almost 25 years of my life into it. If those other guys' pedals don't sound right, then of course Klon's reputation—and my reputation as someone who cares deeply about the quality of what goes out under the Klon name—will inevitably take a hit.
So my feeling is this: If any new product I come out with will be ripped off immediately after its release, and if unscrupulous people will again be making money off of my work, and if on top of that Klon's reputation and my own personal reputation will be at risk every time someone decides to put out his own version of one of my designs, then where is my incentive to release anything new at all? Over the past few years, I've talked with a number of other pedal designers about this stuff—good people who design their own circuits, and whose circuits have also been ripped off—and we all agree there is now an enormous disincentive for any of us to create and release new products.
From what I understand, a lot of the people posting on various online forums seem to feel that it's a wonderful thing for the pedal consumer to have more choices—how could that be bad? Here's how it could be bad: Maybe talented pedal designers—originators—will simply stop designing pedals and take their talents elsewhere to apply them to the design of other classes of products that can't be ripped off quite so easily.
Top 5 Klon Myths
Gear forums are regularly aglow with all sorts of comments about Klon. Here are the most common misconceptions.
- The Centaur is a slightly tweaked [insert name of extant pedal here] circuit. According to Klon's Bill Finnegan, “it's a much more complex circuit than the typical overdrive/boost circuit. These claims stopped almost immediately after it was reverse-engineered in 2007 and a schematic was posted online."
- Certain Centaurs sound better than others. Finnegan says he's heard this claim about earlier units, later ones, gold ones, and silver ones. “The fact is, under the hood they're all basically the same. In 1995 I made three small changes: I added a resistor to give the circuit some protection against a static charge delivered to its input—a change that has no sonic effect. I also had the circuit board redesigned with a ground plane for better grounding—again, no sonic effect except the potential for a little less hum. And I added a resistor to give the circuit a very small amount of additional low-mid response—I wanted it to have a little more roundness when used with, say, a Strat into a Super Reverb. I made no other changes."
- The KTR doesn't/can't sound as good as the Centaur. Finnegan says this claim arises because the KTR uses surface-mount parts while the Centaur (and most other pedals) use through-hole parts. “For two years my assistant, John Perotti, and I listened to hundreds of different surface-mount parts throughout the circuit," Finnegan explains. “While it wasn't an easy or pleasant process, we both feel—and now a lot of other people feel, as well—that I achieved my design goal: With careful component selection, the KTR sounds the same as the Centaur."
- You have to play really loud for the Centaur or KTR to sound good. “You need to have the output knob high enough that the signal hits the front end of your amp harder than your bypassed signal would," says Finnegan. “In other words, you need to use the unit as an overdrive in the literal sense of the term." The assumption here is that users are pairing the Centaur or KTR with an all-tube amp. “It's always a good thing if your amp is turned up enough to get the harmonic response and distortion that are engendered by tubes clipping and output transformers saturating. This is true whether you're playing through a 4-watt or a 100-watt amp."
- Certain clones sound “exactly the same" as a Klon. Finnegan's contention is that, given several factors—especially the rarity of the Centaur's germanium clipping diodes—it would be extremely difficult to create an identical-sounding overdrive/boost.
[Updated 12/12/21[