The proprietor and house producer at Nashville's Smoakstack details how a previous owner's failed relationship put this guitar in the crosshairs of a jilted lover.
Add a splash of motion and mystery to a flat amp with this simple, streamlined, vintage-flavored tremolo and reverb stomp.
Simplicity and utility. Lively spring reverb simulation. Smart, spacious control layout. Nicely dovetailed modulation and reverb tones.
Can’t use harmonic tremolo or vibrato with spring reverb simulation.
$229
Keeley Zoma Stereo Reverb And Tremolo
keeley.com
There are days I plug into myFender Vibrolux, play an E minor chord with a little vibrato arm flourish, and ask, “What more could I ever need?” The simple, elegant perfection of Fender’s reverb and tremolo formula is so foundational, essential, and flat-out delicious to the senses that it gave rise to a class of pedals that consolidate the essence of that recipe.
The most famous of these is probably theStrymon Flint, a tool widely adopted by touring players that deal with changing backlines and players that make do with simpler amplifiers. While the Flint is an industry standard of sorts, at almost 350 bucks it’s also a serious investment. Less expensive alternatives include Fender’s own Tre-Verb (which uses a design and layout strikingly similar to the Flint) as well as Keeley’s excellent U.S.-made Hydra Stereo Tremolo and Reverb and their simpler, less-expensive Verb o Trem, which lacks independent switches for the two effects. But for players that like a more spacious control layout and independent reverb and tremolo switches—and are willing to sacrifice a few options to save about $120—Keeley’s new Zoma might be the most enticing Flint alternative out there.
Form Leads to Function
The Zoma is built into the same enclosure and uses the same control layout as theI Get Around rotary simulator and California Girls 12-string simulator Keeley built in collaboration with JHS Pedals and Benson Amps to honor the Beach Boys. Though destined to annoy space-economy fetishists, the Zoma’s dimensions should be little problem for those who keep their pedal effects to a minimum. The larger enclosure also offers lots of upside in the form of the spacious control layout, which facilitates fast adjustments on the fly. The sizable RCA-style knobs, particularly the big reverb level control, make adjustments with your toe easy. The blue Fender-style jewel lamp—which also blinks at the tremolo’s rate—is situated between the already well-spaced reverb and tremolo bypass switches to ensure that even the klutziest performer can avoid pressing one or both accidentally.
“The plate reverb leaves more space for the beautiful, liquid modulations from the harmonic tremolo and vibrato.”
A small 3-way toggle nestled safely among the three knobs moves between the Zoma’s three basic modes and voices: spring reverb with sine wave tremolo (the black-panel Fender formula), a plate-style reverb with brown-panel Fender-style harmonic tremolo, and plate-style reverb with more Magnatone-like pitch vibrato. The single toggle means you can’t combine different tremolo types with different reverb types as you can with the Flint. But by pressing and holding the reverb/alt switch, you can orient the tremolo after the reverb in black-panel Fender style or place the tremolo before the reverb for a thicker, blurrier tone. You can also change the reverb decay level, reverb tone, or the tremolo output level in alt mode.
Pipelines and Sines
You’d have to be pretty nitpicky to take issue with Zoma’s likeness to real spring reverb. The pings and clicks that follow transients in the Zoma’s spring simulation are particularly authentic compared to the Vibrolux and Fender Reverb tank I used for comparison. And given the possible variation that exists among vintage Fender reverb units, thanks to age, wear, and component value drift, the Zoma’s output falls well within the realm of “accurate.” The primary difference I heard in the Fenders was a little extra harmonic thickness and ghostliness in the decay at the highest reverb levels—but that was at pretty high volume and in isolation. Would you hear it with a bass and drums filling out that harmonic picture? Maybe. Would it spoil the evening of paying customers out to stomp to your instrumental surf combo? I kinda doubt it. And if the Zoma spring is ever-so-slightly less thick than the real deal, it’s still easy to excite and add splash to those harmonics—or make them more subdued—with the Zoma’s alt-mode reverb tone control, which you’re only going to find elsewhere on an outboard Fender Reverb unit. The plate reverb settings are a little more vaporous, diffuse, and lack the post-transient attack you hear at advanced spring settings. But they leave more space for dynamics—most importantly the beautiful, liquid modulations from the harmonic tremolo and vibrato that accompany them.
The harmonic tremolo is especially pretty and adds lovely dimension to lazy chord melodies. The vibrato is excellent, too—throbbing and wobbly without being overpowering at its most intense levels and capable of adding dreamy drift at subdued settings. The sine wave tremolo, by the way, is a great match for the spring reverb. There are bolder, bossier tremolos out there, but it’s a close match for the optical tremolo in most mid-1960s Fender combos, which are not always wildly forceful themselves.
The Verdict
The Zoma can be a very transformative pedal—adding splashes of surfy energy to a Marshall or big-amp presence to a Fender Champ. In terms of utility and approachability, about the only thing that rivals the Zoma is an amp with onboard tremolo and reverb. But even with the real thing you’ll probably lack the pretty harmonic tremolo, the vibrato, and the plate reverb options that extend the Zoma’s color palette. Do I wish I could mix the vibrato and harmonic tremolo with the spring reverb? After a few hours of getting used to the characteristics of each, I do. But it wouldn’t be a deal breaker if I was going to use this pedal in performance or in a recording session where I could also take advantage of the stereo capabilities. The Zoma is a mood machine par excellence that’s also a breeze to use.
Indonesian guitarist Dewa Budjana chatting with rig designer Bob Bradshaw.
Our columnist tells the story of his visit to a recording studio, interviews an Indonesian guitarist, and releases some of his prejudices about a rack-system-style rig.
Last month, I had the opportunity to do a recording session at a professional studio, or more precisely, the best recording studio in my city. As an amateur musician, I only brought my Marshall 6101 combo, Les Paul, and ’70s fuzz wah. The owner and engineer of the studio had said that I could use all the equipment in the studio, especially the rack system that was available there.
Of course, I wouldn’t waste that offer; my curiosity was clearly through the roof. However, using the rack system was not as easy as I thought. After tinkering with it for about an hour, I ended up deciding to stop, as it’s not my thing and I don’t like the way it looks. I tend to set up my rig scattered on the floor because I love to control it using my feet.
But that moment haunted me for weeks. As someone who started playing music as a teenager in the 2000s, for some reason, I was completely unfamiliar with the concept of the rack system. First, during that era, floor multi-effects were very popular, including the Korg AX series, Boss ME series, and of course, the Line 6 Helix. Second, the rack system was considered very expensive and bulky (and also seemed very serious), so typically only professional musicians could afford to use it. As a result, I had neither experience nor knowledge about it. I’m sure millions of amateur musicians like me on this planet also have curiosity and various questions about it.
That was until I met Dewa Budjana, a professional guitarist in Indonesia. Recently, he collaborated with John Frusciante, Jordan Rudess, and Mateus Asato. Budjana has been known as one of the users of the rack system since the ’90s. I was able to have a conversation with him, where I asked him about his knowledge and experience with the system.
Rack systems are out of my world. Can you explain why you use them?
Dewa Budjana: Growing up as a musician in the ’80s, the era of Mike Landau and Steve Lukather, of course I wanted a rack system. There was no direct system back then [such as Fractals, Kempers, etc.], and the only way to explore the equipment was by reading what was available in magazines.
I know it’s not easy to route a rack system. How do you do it?
DB: My first rack was routed by Dave Friedman [of Friedman Amplification], but I bought it from [guitar rig designer] Bob Bradshaw, whom I’ve been in touch with since 1996. At that time, Bob was on tour with Toto, so Dave did the routing. My friendship with Bob continues until today; [he helped me with] several of my albums that I recorded live in America. In 2013, I even made a smaller rack system, which I still use in the studio now.
Why do you think it’s so special, and how often have you used it?
DB: Using the rack system certainly has its own sound satisfaction, perhaps because I am really familiar with it. But since the early 2000s, I have rarely brought a rack [on tour with me] because of the difficulty of transporting it. Also since the mid 2000s, I have tried to explore using multi-effects with a direct system, especially on stage.From that conversation, I concluded that my prejudice about the sacredness of the rack system was not entirely correct. Over time and with technological advancements, a professional like Budjana eventually wasn’t confined to always using rack effects because as times change, so does the tendency of humans to always find new ways to do things, including creating music. Is the rack system merely a representation of a specific era? I don’t think so, because today, we can also find people using vintage stompboxes from the ’60s with all their limitations, such as no LED indicator or the ability to save presets.
In the end, any equipment we use can be considered a personal statement that represents our identity, just like John Mayer with a BluesBreaker, or Yngwie Malmsteen with his Strat and full-stack Marshall.
Budjana still uses the rack system today because in some contexts, it is indeed part of his sound, even though it’s so complicated. To use one, you need another person to operate it in order to make it just right, as well as proper accessories like the housing, power conditioner, and special patch cables. Even when faced with a variety of super advanced equipment, I still tend to crank tube amps and push them with fuzz—and that’s it! But Budjana taught me about the awareness of how “gray,” or not so black-and-white, equipment can be for creating.
