Jules Leyhe's Sound Is “Basically Buena Vista Social Club with Cardi B and a Funk Band from Oakland”
Jules Leyhe is gonna piss off some blues guitar purists.
His main passion is the blues, and he cuts the best blues-slide licks since Derek Trucks—maybe even Duane Allman. But you won’t find one blues song on his newest release, Your First Rodeo. In fact, they’re not really on any of his albums. His songs are a steady stream of EDM, ’70s funk, Hendrix-like psychedelic jams, and horn sections from south of the border. Think Oz Noy and his admittedly twisted take on jazz. That’s what Leyhe brings to the blues.
“Oz is doing his version of this thing, too,” says Leyhe. “He loves Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan as much as he loves Allan Holdsworth, Thelonious Monk, and John Coltrane. He’s just doing his mutant Oz Noy version of that. And I’ve got my more slide-guitar-centric version of that.”
Leyhe sees the best of the Delta, Chicago, and 1960s rock in even the most modern genres. And it’s his mission to connect today’s music fans to the bluesy core of their favorite songs. It’s a mission that started at a very young age.
“There was always music in the house when I was growing up, and we were always dancing,” he says. “Way before I ever played, I liked the Beatles, blues, and jazz. I had a CD player, my headphones, and a little CD collection. I loved music. But by the time I saw School of Rock as a 13-year-old, I knew what I needed to do.
Jules Leyhe - Start Your Engines (Official Video)
“That same week I went to see Doc Watson with my dad,” Leyhe remembers. “Driving home from the show, we drove by the Warfield where Jeff Beck happened to be playing. My dad saw ‘Jeff Beck’ up on the marquee, and he goes, ‘Hey, we’re not going home yet; we got to go see Jeff Beck.’ I got my ass kicked by the guitar that night. I’m 13, and I saw Jeff Beck! After that, I said to my dad, who had a Telecaster, ‘Hey man, you got to teach me everything you know.’ I dove in headfirst.”
Leyhe immediately took to the instrument, but he wasn’t into the musical flavors of the week. “I was listening to all the early acoustic blues guys: Robert Johnson, Son House, Muddy Waters. My dad introduced me to it. And he took me to shows. I saw the Rolling Stones, Buddy Guy, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, all as an 8-year-old. That was part of my life.”
All of those experiences and his love affair with the 6-string came together in one magical night—a night that certified Leyhe’s blues credibility. “I played with Buddy Guy for the first time when I was 16. My dad and I went to see him, and Buddy had some wireless setup so he could walk around the entire place. He’s walking right by my dad, and my dad goes, ‘Buddy, my son is here, and he can play some blues.’ Buddy walks back up onstage—and this is all in the middle of a song—and he’s pointing at me and goes, ‘Come on up here.’ I ran up. He put his guitar on me. He literally took his guitar off his back, his famous polka dot guitar, and put it on me. We played a slow blues in G, and he let me take it away. The crowd went bonkers. I’ll never forget it. We became friends that night, and I play with him anytime he’s in town. He was always really supportive. I’ve kept in touch with him ever since. He’s been so freaking cool to me for over half of my life now.”
“As soon as you’re playing the Klon into a Dumble on a Les Paul, it’s like you grew up driving an old Volkswagen Beetle. Now your dad’s giving you the keys to his Maserati and telling you to go have fun on the freeway.”
Leyhe’s love for the blues has never waned since being called onto that stage. It’s apparent in his slide style. But, strangely, it’s not so apparent in the music he writes and records. There’s a good reason for that.
“That’s definitely on purpose. I certainly started as a blues player, but I’m trying to stretch what that can be,” Leyhe explains. “I’d love to make more of a straight-ahead blues record, too. But my mission is to expose the younger generation, who might be listening to totally blues-influenced music, to the origins of where that is coming from. Say, hip-hop, where they’re sampling jazz and blues records. Like, I heard a sampled thing of Johnny Smith, one of my favorite jazz guitar players, the other day. I told my friend, ‘That’s Johnny Smith.’ She said, ‘No, it’s some hip-hop artist who sampled it.’ That’s a great illustration of what I want to do. It’s a baton handing-off between the old generation and the new generation. My music is the moment that both hands are on the baton, and it’s cross-generational inspired.”
Though some purists would call it sacrilegious to play over hip-hop and call yourself a blues guitarist, they obviously haven’t been paying attention. If it was wrong, Muddy Waters would never have electrified it, Clapton couldn’t have cranked his Les Paul into a Marshall JTM45, and Hendrix’s outer-space experiments would be off the table. Don’t even get me started on ZZ Top’s use of synthesizers.
As far as Leyhe sees it, these experiments are all part of the inevitable evolution of the blues. And his playing might just help push it forward.
“I’m trying to filter these things through my slide guitar,” he said. “It’s super Duane Allman-influenced, but I play in a context with maybe hip-hop beats, EDM, or more modern-sounding beats. Like, say, “Taco Truck.” It’s basically Buena Vista Social Club with Cardi B and then a funk band from Oakland. That’s the style.”
TIDBIT: Jules Leyhe says his engineer, Protist (Nick Bergen), used a Boss Waza Tube Amp Expander as the main studio tool when recording Not Your First Rodeo. When it came to experimenting with effects, Leyhe went deep. “I’m a kid in the candy shop with too many options,” he says. “I really work well that way.”
Your First Rodeo is full of sonic mashups like “Taco Truck.” On the one hand, “The Journey” offers understated melodies with some of the most captivating tones on the album. Then “Start Your Engines” strips everything back to an electronic beat and exploding slide riff. After Leyhe takes us on a wild ride, the album closes with “Sad but True,” a beautiful ballad with a decidedly Motown feel. As you can tell, crossing genres throughout the album was easy for Leyhe and his band (the Jules Family Band). Recording it, however, was not.
“It was totally COVID,” Leyhe says. “It was recorded way before people got vaccinated. It was all done separately and all in one day. No two musicians recorded at the same time. All the musicians came into the studio and took turns. Luckily, we’re all great buddies. We’ve been playing together for 10 years, and we all know each other’s tendencies, so we can give each other space and play off each other.”
The band’s camaraderie is obvious as they ebb and flow through different genres with a tight and live feel. They fill each song with new tones, new instrumentation, and new layers that always keep you guessing. But above all, they make every song entertaining from beginning to end.
“It’s basically Buena Vista Social Club with Cardi B and then a funk band from Oakland. That’s the style.”
“I think music should be really fun,” Leyhe says. “I think that’s something you get if you look at the cover of Your First Rodeo. Everybody chuckles when they see it. That’s what I’m trying to bring—some levity, creativity, and art. Then I think that matches the experience you have when you hear it. Like on the opening track, you’re going, ‘Wait, is this even a guitar record?’”
Though Leyhe’s musicians enjoy plenty of space to stretch out, Your First Rodeo is absolutely a guitar record. And once it was his turn to track, Leyhe didn’t hold back. “Protist [Leyhe’s recording engineer, Nick Bergen] and I used the Boss Waza Tube Amp Expander. That was our studio. We never recorded a cabinet. And there were so many options between pedals and impulse responses that we were spoiled rotten. I think some people feel like, ‘Ah, there are too many options.’ But I felt like, ‘I love too many options!’ I’m a kid in the candy shop with too many options. I really work well that way.”
Those options manifest throughout the album in a myriad of guitar tones. But even though they shift from vintage ’50s cleans with spring reverb to fuzzed-out explosions of energy, the core of Leyhe’s rig is as classic a setup as you can imagine.
“One of the best moves I’ve ever done was getting an Overtone Special, 50-watt amp by Ceriatone. They make Dumble clones. Oh my gosh, this amp was a game-changer for me, my sound, and everything. At this point, I’ve been playing for, man, it’s close to 20 years. And after working hard on it, I finally have an amp that really brings my voice out, and tells the story I want, how I want it to.”
Jules Leyhe’s Gear
Jules Leyhe prefers his Gibson SG with a Coricidin bottle for playing slide. “It’s the ’61 reissue, and it barks,” he says. “There’s something about the Coricidin bottle. It’s this magic. The tone, it’s this sweet spot. It feels really good on the strings, and I swear it sings.”
Photo Lizzy Myers
Guitars
- Gibson Les Paul 1959 Reissue
- Gibson SG 1961 Reissue
- Fender Deluxe Special Stratocaster
Amps
- Ceriatone Overtone Special 50
- Milkman 1x12 with Celestion G12M-65 Creamback
Strings, Picks, Slide
- GHS Boomers .012 sets, on the SG
- Dunlop .010 sets on the Les Paul
- Dunlop Eric Johnson Jazz IIIs
- Coricidin bottle
Effects
- Ceriatone Centura overdrive
- Vertex Dynamic Distortion
- Vertex Ultraphonix Overdrive
- Vertex Boost
- Vertex Steel String Clean Drive
- Xotic EP Booster
- Line 6 DL4 delay
- TC Electronic Hall of Fame Reverb
- T-Rex Tremster
- Dunlop Cry Baby Mini Wah
- Dunlop Volume (X) Mini
- Mojo Hand FX Luna Vibe
Leyhe is so in love with his Overtone Special that it’s the only guitar amplifier on the record. He often rounds out his rig with the other two-thirds of a tonal trinity. “My high-gain tones are definitely the dirty channel on the amp with a freaking Gibson Les Paul,” he shares. “It’s one of the ’59 reissues. Ceriatone also makes a Klon Centaur clone that I use. They call it the Centura, and, man, that thing is so great. As soon as you’re playing the Klon into a Dumble on a Les Paul, it’s like you grew up driving an old Volkswagen Beetle. Now your dad’s giving you the keys to his Maserati and telling you to go have fun on the freeway. [Laughs.] Part of that is using a lot of gain. That’s a technique or a trick that I definitely rely on. I love the tone you get from a lot of gain. Like, Stevie Ray when he’s playing 'Lenny,' he’s definitely using a lot of gain, but, man, you gotta roll back a little bit to get that sound. Jeff Beck does that a ton, too. I’m sure a lot of guys do that, but those are two of my favorite influences for that sort of thing.”
As hairy as Leyhe’s high-gain sound gets, it’s the exact same setup on the more delicate-sounding solos of “The Journey.” The only twist is Leyhe’s secret weapon: a Dunlop Volume (X) Mini Pedal.
“It’s cool because it’s the same setup, but everything’s way dialed back. It’s still nice and fat, but we turned all the gains down, and I’m riding the volume pedal a lot,” explains Leyhe. “The volume pedal really is a big part of my sound. There’s always a little life on the notes because I’m riding the volume most of the time. Between being expressive with it and the tone from this amp, that’s my sound now.”
But Leyhe’s not afraid to dig into his other effects and experiment. He’ll often throw one of his favorite Vertex overdrives on for a different shade of grit or create full-on soundscapes, “giant worlds” as he calls them, with a Line 6 DL4. “The Planetarium” features this technique. “That song’s in the key of D major,” says Leyhe. “So, I’ll build a big D-pad, where I make random noises and get a layer that I can play over. It almost comes off as the synthesizer or something, but it’s a guitar.”
Another of Your First Rodeo’s standout tones is the harmonica solo on “High Street” … except it’s not a harmonica. It’s his trusty Gibson, Ceriatone, and Klon clone. “It sounds like an old Howlin’ Wolf record or something,” he says. “It’s super raw and nasty. There’s this nasty-ass, low, gritty, bluesy thing and this tight, Tower of Power-ish funk thing going on, too.
“I saw the Rolling Stones, Buddy Guy, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, all as an 8-year-old. That was part of my life.”
“Those are the worlds we’re combining there. But it’s just me playing and trying to sound like a harp. I think part of the sound is that the strings were jangly. I tuned way low to C, and I didn’t use the right [gauges] or anything. They were kind of angel hair pasta-ish [laughs]. But it’s cool that way. You don’t do that the whole time. But once is fine, and actually cool.”
Once is right. “High Street” is the only time Leyhe deviates from his two favorite tunings—standard and open E for slide—for the entire album. And while he often uses a pick, he plays slide with his fingers alone.
“I only play slide on my SG. It’s the ’61 reissue, and it barks,” he explains. “I have it strung up with the action really high. Also, I’m in a band called the Alameda All Stars. They were Gregg Allman’s touring band for a good 12 to 15 years. The guitar player in that band, Jellyroll [Marke Burgstahler], gave me a Coricidin bottle slide, and I use that as my main slide. There’s something about the Coricidin bottle. It’s this magic. The tone, it’s this sweet spot. It feels really good on the strings, and I swear it sings.”
Coricidin bottle slide on pinky finger, Leyhe is on the rise at the perfect time. Derek Trucks is at the height of his lauded career, and roots-based players like Justin Johnson, Ariel Posen, and Joey Landreth (The Bros. Landreth) dominate YouTube guitar channels and are hitting the charts. People can’t get enough slide guitar.
On his new album, Jules Leyhe’s winning combo was a Les Paul, a Ceriatone Overtone Special, and a Klon clone. But he doesn’t ever stick to just one guitar. Here he dons a Telecaster, which is the model he started playing with his dad at age 13.
Photo by Bob Hakins
“Slide is the most powerful way of specifically conveying my musical thoughts,” Leyhe says. “It has a heavy sound. You can really get sad and mournful, or you can really rock a room. Like, we were playing last night, some classic Chicago blues romp, and everyone’s shaking their ass. But then I can make people cry playing ‘Amazing Grace’ like we’re at church or something. It’s amazing what you can do. People respond to it so much. If there’s a slide playing a melody well, people melt. I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but I’ve seen that over and over. It gives me goosebumps, and it’s what I’m into. It’s this mysterious thing.”
Unfortunately, people may have to wait to hear Leyhe’s slide in person. Like most artists, he hasn’t been able to perform as often as he’d like. But that doesn’t mean you can’t watch him play. Harnessing the power of YouTube, Leyhe created a guitarist’s dream channel full of his performances, lessons, gear overviews, and more. Hell, he may be in front of more fans now than ever.
With a new album, a growing YouTube channel, and even playing the “Star Spangled Banner” at Oakland A’s games, Leyhe is in a good place artistically and career-wise. But the future is calling. He’s already recorded his next album, tentatively titled Dub Blues. If all goes as planned, itwill be another step in lifting the blues into the future.
“It doesn’t have to be like, ‘I went to this blues show, and I heard some slide guitar.’ What if you went to a classical show, or opera, or anything else?”
But Leyhe doesn’t want to go it alone. He hopes his genre-bending forays rub off on his contemporaries. “The blues is in a funny place, and I think it needs to be carried forward with more than chops,” Leyhe says. “I’m trying to say that delicately, but we got to do what the Beatles did in the studio.
“They weren’t going to have two-minute pop tunes forever. They needed to be artists. I want to hear more of the art. I love guys like Josh Smith, Kirk Fletcher, and Eric Gales. Shit, these guys are all amazing. Everybody can ball. If you get guys like Eric Gales, Joe Bonamassa, Josh Smith all playing, that’s an NBA All-Star game. But I’d love for those guys to hear what I’m doing here. I want to hear the imagination that’s on records like Electric Ladyland and Sgt. Pepper’s.”
Whether his heroes share this view, we’ll have to see. But one thing’s for sure, Leyhe’s not putting any limits on his favorite music. Considering slide guitar’s current popularity, he’s happier than ever to bring it to a broader audience.
“I love it, and people love it everywhere. It’s this universal thing. People fucking love slide guitar. So it doesn’t have to be like, ‘I went to this blues show, and I heard some slide guitar.’ What if you went to a classical show, or opera, or anything else? That would be really wild. I’m definitely trying to do my part to bring it into other contexts.”
Jules Leyhe and the Family Jules Band | PayPal: jleyhe@gmail.com
Maestro's smooth, stylish PS-1 inspiresa simple and unique vintage-voiced analog phaser.
Great digital approximations of the Maestro PS-1's smooth, distinctive voice. Open, airy tonality. Nice combo of transparency and distinctive character.
No ramping between speeds.
$149
Mojo Hand FX Mister-O Phaser Shifter
mojohandfx.com
Though enormous and limited by modern standards, the original Maestro PS-1 (created by Tom Oberheim in 1971) is the very picture of pedal design elegance. It's also one of the most swirlingly smooth phase circuits to ever exist.
Mojo Hand FX's digital, six-stage Mister-O is inspired by the silky voice of the PS-1. The company did away with the design limitations of the original—like speed presets and fixed depth and resonance—but Mister-O still speaks in a deep, enrapturing, and distinctive phase voice that sets it apart from more common phasers. It also retains the straight-ahead simplicity that makes vintage phasers so attractive.
Styled Out … Subtly
If you love vintage pedal style, the Mister-O is a snack-sized meal of visual treats. "Mister-O" is printed in an original font that evokes the old Maestro logo. The white-on-black pinstripe looks ace. And while I'd be ultra-stoked if Mojo Hand had used red, gold, and blue knobs, the tri-color branding at the bottom hints at Maestro's beautiful '70s color motifs. (Future versions of the Mister-O will be called Mr. O to avoid confusion with the Maestro brand.)
Where the original PS-1 used three rocker switches to select slow, medium, and fast phase rates, the Mister-O utilizes a variable speed knob as well as depth and color (resonance) knobs that enable deviations from the original's voice. It's a cool set of additional but traditional controls that enable experimentation without getting into the weeds.
Apart from lacking analog circuitry, Mojo Hand omitted one important facet of the original Phase Shifter's functionality: It doesn't share the capability for ramping between speeds—a function that enhanced the PS-1's Leslie-ness. Though it might have elevated the very appealing $149 street price considerably, an expression pedal that approximated that functionality would be a nice addition.
Elastic But Never Overbearing
In the humble, one-page manual that accompanies the Mister-O, Mojo Hand suggests a few voices based on original Maestro sounds. These settings—all of which utilize depth and color controls at noon—are tuned to match that of the PS-1. They are truly sweet spots that are a great place to start—and stay, as I often did.
Mister-O's clear low-end carves out room for other phasing nuances that make the output sound more complex and detailed.
Phasers are inherently non-transparent. They change your tone as they cycle through a waveform, and every phaser does this with a distinct voice. Mister-O's is a wide-frequency voice that seems to retain much of a guitar's natural color. Players that gripe about tone suck and volume loss in vintage modulators will love this facet of Mister-O's performance envelope. (I even sensed a slight bump in volume in phase mode.) But Mister-O also heaps on a lot of unique, vintage patina'd personality. The contoured clarity it lends to low frequencies, for instance, is beautiful. It's not quite as bubble-gum chewy as a good Phase 90, which is extra gooey, in part, because of the unique way it filters and "stretches" low end frequencies. The choice between chewiness and low-end articulation is down to personal preference. But I loved the way Mister-O's clear low-end carves out room for other phasing nuances that make the output sound more complex and detailed. It might be the first phaser I routinely use for fingerpicking.
Advanced color and depth controls emphasize mid-range resonant peaks, which can make Mister-O feel more pulsing than elastic. But the effect is no less weird or psychedelic. The color knob can add extra noise as you get into its weirdest zones. Though I'd venture that anyone exploring these more bizarro sounds will not be terribly offended by a little white noise wash. At lower depth and color settings—and particularly at fast speeds—the Mister-O offers a cool, wobbly alternative to low-intensity tremolo.
If you tend to use your phaser for Hendrix and Gilmour-style fuzz-and-phase sounds, Mister-O's open tonalities—particularly the airy, present top end—are well suited to the task. The enhanced control also gives you more power to tweak resonant peaks to suit your pickups and drive source. The original Maestro voicings are ideal for fuzzy fare, but you shouldn't be shy about ladling deep textures on top. Because Mister-O is so articulate, there's plenty of room to heap on gnarly buzz without obscuring nuance in the modulation.
The Verdict
The Mojo Hand FX Mister-O is more than a little evocative of the original Maestro PS-1. But above all, it has a flexible, unique, and warm vintage voice that manages the minor miracle of sounding authentically analog and colorful while enabling your guitar's tone to shine. There's something effortlessly classy about the sound of the Mister-O. And it's refreshing to be able to explore such distinctly vintage phase flavors without treading that same old path—especially at such a reasonable price.
Economical controls make this DSP-driven homage to the DMM an affordable, clever, and compact compromise. The Premier Guitar Mojo Hand FX Dream Mender review.
RatingsPros:Warm analog-like tones that stroke a nice compromise between digital sterility and analog quirkiness. Controls have great range and sensitivity. Fair price. Compact. Cons: No input gain control. No independent control of modulation intensity. Street: $159 Mojo Hand FX Dream Mender mojohandfx.com | Tones: Ease of Use: Build/Design: Value: |
Though they’re stone-cold classics, vintage Deluxe Memory Man pedals demand compromise in return for those warm, sweet analog echoes. They’re massive by contemporary standards, aging specimens are fragile, and components are prone to drift. Fear of loss—or for breaking something I couldn’t fix—made me retire mine years ago. It stinks, because I don’t have a delay or echo that sounds quite like it.
A lot of people feel equally attached and anxious about their old DMMs. And compact analog and digital alternatives that offer Deluxe Memory Man characteristics without the stress have been around a while. Many digital multi-delays even come with DMM-inspired presets and voices. But these takes on the DMM can have shortcomings of their own. Few can replicate the ergonomic possibilities of a vintage unit’s control layout, which enables creative, nuanced, on-the-fly manipulation of controls with a single hand. Better digital emulations, meanwhile, can be expensive.
Mojo Hand FX’s Dream Mender, however, cleverly navigates the compromises inherent to building a small-form, digital homage to the DMM. And while it lacks the variable input gain control and an independent modulation intensity knob purists consider essential to the DMM formula, it offers a very nice take on the classic DMM voice and many of the chorus and vibrato textures that make the original Deluxe Memory Man so dizzyingly rich.
Streamlined Mojo Machine
The Dream Mender is no space hog. It’s about the same size as an MXR pedal. It’s also difficult to tell what might be going on under the hood, because the circuit board is flipped and occupies the entirety of the enclosure space. But like most Mojo Hand FX pedals, it’s very well put-together. The switchwork and jacks are all high-quality stuff, and the knobs turn with a satisfying resistance and precision that makes manipulating the rangy controls a tactile treat and a powerful expressive method.
For a DMM-inspired pedal, the control set is economical. Delay and feedback knobs work conventionally, though the delay time control gives you access to about twice the delay time of a vintage Memory Man (which tops out at about 500ms). Where the DMM featured a modulation section with a vibrato/chorus switch and modulation intensity knob, the Dream Mender employs a smart, space-saving workaround: The vibrato/chorus switch remains as a small push button, but the modulation intensity is controlled by the delay depth/mix control. This control is a 2-way knob.
Counter clockwise from noon, the knob regulates delay intensity exclusively. Clockwise from noon, it controls delay and modulation depth together, and the intensity of both effects increase together. The drawback, of course, is that you can’t control delay and modulation intensity independently, but it’s a smart design compromise given the pedal’s modest price and size, and it’s the source of some amazingly wobbly and, yes, very dreamy delay textures.
The other notable DMM feature that the Dream Mender omits is the input gain knob—a function that shapes many of my favorite tones on the Deluxe Memory Man. If you use other sources of boost and overdrive, you might not pine for this feature. Still, many players that like a minimal setup built around DMM tones might miss the way the input gain can add low-end mass, compression, and, at least in the case of my own DMM, a little extra top-end definition. (It bears mentioning that high input gain settings on an original DMM can turn into a blurry, compressed mess when mixed with fuzz, aggressive overdrive, and even deep modulation. Also, many classic DMM tones are partly attributable to the Deluxe Memory Man’s 24V circuit, which means more headroom for the overtones from the boosted output).
Tone Reveries
In the absence of a gain control, the Dream Mender’s basic voice sounds a lot like a vintage DMM operating in the cleaner, lower third of its drive range. It also tends to be stronger in the midrange than a vintage Memory Man. Again, such differences might let down players that want the most authentic vintage DMM tones in a minimal rig. But that doesn’t mean the Dream Mender doesn’t generate awesome and unique tones. The Mender’s narrower, more controlled midrange frequency emphasis means repeats can sound more distinct when paired with other effects. It also generates beautiful sounds and colors regardless of comparisons to the Memory Man. Slapback tones have focus, presence, and snap, and very cool tape-like wiggle with vibrato mixed in. More surreal textures, like the wiggly vibrato and chorus delays at high depth levels, will entice players that love the Cure, Slowdive, and Ride, as well as ambient players and composers.
The Verdict
For 159 bucks—a price that slots between the most basic analog delays and more feature-rich digital units—the Dream Mender is a good deal, particularly considering the deep and unique textures you can extract from its simple control set. It’s more colorful than a basic digital delay, and more controlled, and generates authentically analog color without the clock noise and touchy temperament of true BBD analog units. Its essential voice is also distinctly in the Deluxe Memory Man range, if a bit mid-focused. And while the lack of independent control of the modulation intensity diminishes the Dream Mender’s flexibility relative to a vintage DMM, the modulated delay textures are immersive and intoxicating. But beyond comparisons to the Memory Man, the Dream Mender is a great analog emulation—particularly if you love the fluttering, hazy tones of modulated delay.