Exactly how does this glowing bottle affect your tone?
I'm often asked about tube rectification in guitar amplifiers. For many players, it's a subject that could stand a little deeper scrutiny from an engineering and design perspective. First, keep in mind that a tube rectifier is not an audio amplifying device. If no audio signal passes through it, how does it affect an amplifier's sound? Let's have a look.
Your amplifier's preamp and power tubes require a DC voltage to operate. The amplifier's power transformer converts the incoming AC line voltage to the levels required. The power supply rectifier, whether of the vacuum tube or silicon diode variety, converts the AC voltage to DC. That DC voltage is filtered and then sent along to the various amplifying stages to do their specific tasks.
The hard-working power supply must be able to deliver the amplifier's maximum continuous rated power for an extended period of time. Most well-engineered amplifiers can operate continuously at full power for hundreds of hours without generating sufficient heat to injure the operator or cause a component to fail. Even so, things do heat up.
A rectifier tube in a typical tube-rectified power supply: R1 and R2 represent the internal copper resistance in the transformer's primary winding, and R3 and R4 represent the same in the transformer's secondary winding. RA represents the tube's internal resistance between the anodes and the cathode. In a silicon-rectified power supply, RA is much lower and therefore produces less heat loss.
When you play at low volumes, you're not placing a great demand on your amplifier's power supply. At gig volume, however, you start drawing significant power from it. When you run the unit for several hours straight, the copper wire in the power transformer gets hot. Copper wire, being an imperfect conductor, exhibits resistance to current flow, and this inherent resistance causes the wire to heat up as the power demand increases. The resistance of a given length of wire is fixed, which means something has to give when the temperature goes up, and that something is voltage. As your power transformer heats up, the voltage it produces decreases. In a typical amp this decrease isn't large, but it's noticeable.
When we introduce a tube rectifier into the equation, the effect of heat-induced voltage loss is exaggerated. The reason is that the rectifier also has some internal resistance that contributes to a total drop of as much as 50 volts under full load. That's a lot. Silicon diodes overtook vacuum-tube rectifiers long ago because they were much less expensive and assembly was less labor intensive. But there was another reason: They're more efficient, due to low internal resistance. That difference in internal resistance means silicon and vacuum tube rectifiers are generally not directly interchangeable. Using a plug-in silicon device in place of a tube rectifier can cause excess DC to appear at the filter capacitors.
Because the silicon diode is a much lower maintenance item than the tube counterpart, it rarely requires replacement. However, with progress often comes compromise, and when you're talking about guitar amp behavior, an improvement in performance can be interpreted as detrimental when it reduces the give-and-take that tube rectified amplifiers exhibit. These are the pros and cons that a manufacturer thinks about when deciding when and why to use a tube rectifier.
When you play at low volumes, you're not placing a great demand on your amplifier's power supply. At gig volume, however, you start drawing significant power from it.
A tube rectifier may make the cut when the goal is to produce a vintage-correct reproduction amp. Even though we can engineer a similar amount of voltage sag into the power transformer, purists may see the absence of the original part as a cop-out to save money, when, in fact, it may simply result in a more reliable, maintenance-free design. However, inducing sag into the transformer design can cause the temperature in the power transformer to increase more rapidly over time, in which case a larger, heavier, and more expensive part may be required to manage this drawback. In some cases, getting a power transformer design to conform to modern regulatory limitations can be simplified by using a tube rectifier to provide an easier path to safety compliance. We often see reissue amps that differ in performance from the originals simply because they have to clear regulatory hurdles that were non-existent at the time the originals were created. A crafty engineer can often find workarounds to such obstacles, and clever application of transformer technology and tube rectification are valuable tools in the kit.
In my experience, the most practical use of a tube rectifier is in dual-voltage power supplies, where a high- and low-power mode is required. For the high-power mode, a large, stable power transformer is necessary to meet maximum performance parameters. The downside? A high-capacity power transformer tends to yield stiffer performance when not running at or near maximum potential, such as in a low-power mode. This is where the tube rectifier really shines: It can be used to exaggerate the voltage sag in a power supply that would otherwise exhibit an unforgiving feel.
Whether the design objective is aesthetic, practical, or genuinely novel, it's good to have choices. Besides the satisfaction of seeing more glowing tubes humming away in our amplifiers, it's nice to know that players appreciate the extra effort involved in creating new designs around these familiar bottles.
"'If I fall and somehow my career ends on that particular day, then so be it," Joe Bonamassa says of his new hobby, bicycling. "If it's over, it's over. You've got to enjoy your life."
Photo by Steve Trager
For his stylistically diverse new album, the fiery guitar hero steps back from his gear obsession and focuses on a deep pool of influences and styles.
Twenty years ago, Joe Bonamassa was a struggling musician living in New York City. He survived on a diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and ramen noodles that he procured from the corner bodega at Columbus Avenue and 83rd Street. Like many dreamers waiting for their day in the sun, Joe also played "Win for Life" every week. It was, in his words, "literally my ticket out of this hideous business." While the lottery tickets never brought in the millions, Joe's smokin' guitar playing on a quartet of albums from 2002 to 2006—So, It's Like That, Blues Deluxe, Had to Cry Today, and You & Me—did get the win, transforming Joe into a guitar megastar.
Since achieving fame and fortune, Joe has spent most of his time in his various residences across the country. He's got Nerdville in sunny California and Nerdville East in Nashville. Both are almost-literal museums that house Joe's arguably unmatched collection of vintage guitars and amps. You will be very hard pressed to come across a finer collection. Yet in 2019, Joe found himself drawn back to New York City.
Joe Bonamassa - "Time Clocks" - Official Music Video
"It's a mid-life crisis. I always wanted to go back to where I lived 20 years ago, but not have to worry about hustling down sessions and gigs to make the rent every month," he says. "For as cool and exciting of a time as it was, it was also a very stressful time. I had this thing in my mind where I just wanted to be able to enjoy New York City and not have the stress of, 'Oh shit, it's either a subway ticket or ramen noodles tonight.'"
In February 2021, Joe went to Germano Studios in Manhattan's NoHo neighborhood to record Time Clocks, aka "The New York Album." Because of the pandemic, this recording session was like no other Joe had been involved with. Kevin "the Caveman" Shirley, Joe's longtime producer, was stuck in Australia due to strict COVID travel restrictions. The two have had a long working relationship and they've been inseparable for most of Joe's career. Shirley produced the guitarist's fifth studio album, You & Me, and has since produced over 30 of Joe's subsequent projects. So, when it came time to record Time Clocks—travel restrictions be damned—they found a way to work together. "We recorded it virtually with Zoom and some other technology where my producer in Australia could get the actual tracks from the session in real time or with about a second latency," says Joe. "It was totally fine. It was an odd record to make because of what we were doing, but it was also an odd time. So, why should anything be normal anymore?"
"I just wanted to be able to enjoy New York City and not have the stress of, 'Oh shit, it's either a subway ticket or ramen noodles tonight.'"
Even with the differences in time zones (Sydney, Australia, is 16 hours ahead of New York City), they found a way to make it work. "We would get there about noon. Kevin's an early riser so he would get to his studio, which is by his house in Sydney, by about 2 a.m. So, we would go from about noon to 6 or 7 at night, and he would go from 2 to 9 a.m., and then take naps."
Time Clocks is full of unexpected twists. It was recorded live as a trio with drummer Anton Fig and bassist Steve Mackey, and then other parts were layered in. The album has a diversity of sounds that belie Joe's blues categorization. "Notches" opens with an Ali Farka Touré-inspired 12-string riff, "Time Clocks" has a country-esque, Americana vibe, and "Curtain Call" is an homage to Led Zeppelin. "My ADD transcends into my musical life. It's a very different record for me. It's not a blues record, for sure. I just try to make records that don't bore me all the way through—we've got this groove covered, we've got that groove covered, let's put a sorbet in, something out of left field," says Joe.
TIDBIT: Bonamassa's longtime producer, Kevin Shirley, had his hands on the wheel again, but remotely. He produced from Sydney, Australia, while the band recorded live on the floor in New York City.
"Some people think that all I do is play blues. I don't just play blues. I play whatever. We've all been in this game for a long time where we can adapt to any musical situation. It's fun. Every once in a while, I'll go sit in with friends. I just sat in with Nir Felder [at NYC's famed 55 Bar]. If I sit in with Nir, I'll be like, 'When these chord changes get too fucking adult for me, I'm bailing.' You just know your strengths and your weaknesses."
For the Time Clocks sessions, Joe used a much leaner gear selection than you might expect, especially given his cavernous collection. "In New York City, you go with what you got. There were only three amps. I had a [JB signature] high-powered Twin sent from our inventory that's still in the spare bedroom in the apartment. I ended up using two Deluxes. I had one Deluxe Reverb and one brown Deluxe," says Joe. We wonder if Joe was referring to a reissue Deluxe Reverb that might have happened to be at the studio, or one of his rare closet classics. He immediately snaps, "Think about that critically and ask yourself again, 'Who are you talking to?'" Point taken, Joe!
Joe Bonamassa’s Gear on Time Clocks
“I’m not going to live my life in indentured servitude to the fucking guitar.”
Guitars
Gibson Les Paul
Gibson ES-335
Fender Stratocaster
Fender Telecaster
Martin acoustic guitar
Strings
Ernie Ball Burly Slinkys (.011–.052; .011–.056 on down-tuned guitars)
Amps
Fender black-panel Deluxe Reverb
Fender brown-panel Deluxe
'59 Fender Twin-Amp JB Edition
Effects
Klon Centaur
Dunlop Joe Bonamassa Signature Wah
"When I was a kid, I had a black [panel] Deluxe Reverb. I think this is probably one of the ones that I had for 25 years," he clarifies. "The black and brown circuits are totally different, so you get that kind of sweet/salt mix. The brown Deluxe does the real thick midrange stuff and the black does the low and the high. That's kind of always been my M.O. It's never just one amp. You're mid-stacking with amps that don't necessarily do the same thing. The bigger, thicker tones you hear on the solo, that's the high-powered Twin. The more jangly stuff was the Deluxes."
"'When these chord changes get too adult for me, I'm bailing.' You just know your strengths and your weaknesses."
Joe also only used a handful of guitars on Time Clocks. "I don't keep a lot of guitars here," he says. "All I had was a Les Paul, a Strat, a 335, a Rickenbacker 12-string, an old bass from the movie Spinal Tap, the one that Nigel kept telling Rob Reiner not to touch—I actually own that one. But it was less than six guitars. I also used a Martin acoustic. All the acoustic stuff was done with one acoustic.
A recent snapshot of Bonamassa's pedalboard.
"In Nashville, I have all my road guitars, but to be honest with you, over the years I've never gotten into this thing where you bring 50 guitars and use five. I did that a long time ago. It's nothing but a photo op. Most of the time I bring a Whitman's Sampler of what I think would work. The days of humping in 50 guitars and setting up six racks of them and going, 'Look what I got'—that's a young man's game. That's for somebody in their 30s."
"I've been playing guitar and cranking amps for 40 years. Do you know the two things that prompt me to run away? Loud music and crowds. It's a paradox, I know."
Joe's newfound minimalism goes hand in hand with living in a New York City apartment, where even playing with an amp on 1 will get you the "broomstick on a ceiling" retaliation. "I've been playing guitar and cranking amps for 40 years. Do you know the two things that prompt me to run away? Loud music and crowds. It's a paradox, I know," he says. "So, when I'm at home and I'm enjoying a very quiet Sunday afternoon, I have zero, absolutely zero, desire to crank an amp. And I have zero-plus-5-percent desire to sometimes even practice on a given day. It gives you a break. It's important to be good at your job on a given day. It's important to also step away and give yourself some perspective, so you're not so consumed by it."
Rig Rundown - Joe Bonamassa [2018]
Every aspiring guitarist—no matter the genre—longs for their day in the spotlight. They too want to be a guitar god and inspire thousands of players and listeners, just like Joe. But what does it feel like on the other side—when you actually win?
The guitarist onstage with his frequent on-tour sparring partner in recent years, bass giant Michael Rhodes.
Photo by Debi Del Grande
"Then a whole 'nother set of circumstances come into play," he says. "It's managing time, managing your energy. It's also trying to keep in perspective what is it that you really do, because sometimes life comes at you twice as fast as it used to. All my energy is dedicated to the fans that keep me in business and come time and time again. That is 100 percent my biggest priority. When distractions and other things come into play that tend to take energy away from what you're supposed to be doing, that's the challenge. I realize I'm a very fortunate person, but I don't make any apologies for it, because, to be honest with you, that's what everybody strives for. Why should I apologize for working hard? I always tell people it's easy to dismiss, hard to replicate. If it was easy, as some claim, then it would be as easy as starting a TikTok. If it was that easy, then anybody could do it. But to be honest with you, anybody can do it. You've got to have the intestinal fortitude and the drive, and the ability to stick it out through thick and thin."
Bonamassa cradles his famed 1959 Les Paul Standard, Lazarus. The guitar was recreated for a limited-edition issue via Epiphone this year.
Older and wiser at 44, Joe, who started performing onstage at age 12, has now found time to explore other things in life besides guitar. He indulges in Law and Order marathons, is on an excruciatingly strict diet with Diet Coke as his only vice, and has found a new passion in cycling. He'll just as likely post details of his Central Park bike excursions on Instagram as he would another guitar-safari vintage find. Even with the potential danger of a career-ending fall, Joe, much like the late Allan Holdsworth—who was also an avid cyclist—is willing to chance it. "If I fall and somehow my career ends on that particular day, then so be it," he says. "I'm not going to live my life in indentured servitude to the fucking guitar. If it's over, it's over. You've got to enjoy your life."
Joe Bonamassa & Tina Guo - "Woke Up Dreaming" - Live At Carnegie Hall
Joe Bonamassa is labeled a blues guitarist, but anyone that's heard him knows that he brings a huge diversity of stylistic elements to the genre. In this breathtaking, hyper-speed duo, Joe's right hand is like an unstoppable machine that keeps the intensity of the performance alive for over 6 minutes.
The original Bogner Ecstasy, released in 1992, is iconic in heavy rock circles. Though it was popularized and preferred by rock and metal artists (Steve Vai and Brad Whitford were among famous users), its ability to move from heavy Brit distortion to Fender-like near-clean tones made it appealing beyond hard-edged circles. Even notorious tone scientist Eric Johnson was enamored with its capabilities.
At nearly $4K, a new 100-watt Ecstasy is out of reach for a lot of players. But the new Ecstasy Mini, a 30-watt, class-D, solid-state amp that weighs less than four pounds, does a surprisingly great job of capturing the original Ecstasy's essence in a tiny, portable package
Mini Monster
The Ecstasy Mini comes in a package small enough to be mistaken for a shoebox. Don't be fooled by the diminutive size, though. It's a badass little screamer that can rip heads off. It can also play it cool: Even though it's based on the original Ecstasy's mighty high-gain red channel, the Mini still moves between screaming hot lead tones and near-clean sounds with relative ease.
The control panel is pretty straightforward. There are six chicken-head knobs for volume, presence, treble, middle, bass, and gain. Above the knobs are four mini toggle switches that help you shape the amp's tone and feel in more specific ways. There's a variac mode that approximates the function of a variable voltage transformer—reducing headroom and producing cool takes on Eddie Van Halen's brown sound. A gain switch lets you choose between a plexi-type sound or a modern, ultra-high gain setting, and a mid-frequency switch lets you choose which midrange band (800 Hz, 1.6 kHz, or 3.2 kHz) is shaped with the mid control. A pre-EQ switch, meanwhile, provides three baseline voices ranging from relatively mellow to bright. There's also an effects loop on the back of the amp for patching in effects like reverb and delay. The amp's 24V power supply is universal and the amp can be used anywhere around the world without a step-up transformer.
The Ecstasy Mini's build quality is excellent. Throughout my test—even with the volume and gain cranked—the amp was impressively quiet. With guitar volume at zero, you probably wouldn't even know that a raging amp is sitting idle, ready to pounce.
Lethal Low Gain, Hellacious High Gain
I started my tests in low-gain mode with the gain knob at noon. Even at these less aggressive settings, I could feel the room rattle when I hit an A chord. There's a lot of available volume and single notes really ring with sustain at these settings—particularly when the variac setting is on. The amp is a surprisingly great match for blues-rock and pop-rock at these settings. (I was even compelled to have a go at Steve Lukather's solo and tone from Toto's "Rosanna." It sounded pretty spot-on.)
Even at less aggressive settings, I could feel the room rattle when I hit an A chord.
High-gain settings transform the amp from simply muscular to monstrous, reminding me why the original Ecstasy is so coveted. I tuned my Schecter T-7 7-string's low string down to A and played power chord riffs with the gain around 1 o'clock, the variac off, and tone knobs all at noon. Here, the Ecstasy Mini was razor-sharp and never flabby. Picking response feels fast, and even low open 7th string tones were crisp and tight.
Switching to the variac setting brought a noticeable drop in volume, a bit more warmth, and spongier, more compressed response. In general, I preferred the variac setting for solos. Obviously, it's less well suited for ultra-precise single-note runs and detuned rhythms, but a high-mid boost from the pre-EQ's B2 switch helps solos cut through more effectively without sacrificing too much of the forgiving sag you get via the variac mode.
Time to Clean Up
For a single-channel, high-gain amp, the Ecstasy Mini does a respectable job of generating clean sounds at gigging volume. With the gain knob around 7 o'clock and the mini toggle for gain in low mode, single-coils readily produce cleaner tones at lower guitar volumes. Humbuckers introduce more grit, but you can still hear lots of individual note clarity and effectively move from clean-ish to dirty sounds via picking and volume control dynamics. The amp's dynamic response is impressive at the highest gain settings, too. And though you won't get pure clean tones here, active adjustments of guitar volume make the amp capable of cool, dramatic shifts in mood, tone, and intensity.
The Verdict
Bogner's Ecstasy Mini is versatile for an amp so clearly designed for maximum power. It will sound huge and hang with a loud band when miked through a PA. But you can also stow it in a gig bag as a backup, use it in the studio, or at home if you're tight on space. It may not rival an all-valve 100W Ecstasy for body, richness, and sheer power. But unless you're playing Madison Square Garden, there's no reason it can't cover most of your gigging needs. The Ecstasy Mini is a killer high-gain amp with a street price that's not much more than a pedal. And that combination of power and value makes it pretty hard to beat.
