But it can also be fuzzier than you expect. And calling it a distortion sells short its fine overdrive and boost qualities, as well as its responsiveness to guitar volume and tone variations, and picking dynamics. It interacts with amps spanning the Fender- and English-sound templates as though it has a very individual relationship with each. It rarely sounds generic. And its tone range makes it a potential problem-solver in backline situations or studio sessions where you’re looking for something predictable or altogether weird—which is reassuring if, like me, looking at 10 different gain devices gives you a nervous sense of decision fatigue. The Nichols 1966 may not always be precisely the gain unit you’re looking for, but can also produce scads of tones you may not have known you needed.
Exponential Possibilities, Many Personalities
When the knob count on a pedal goes up, that doesn’t always make the device more effective or complex-sounding. But when controls work as interactively as they do on the Nichols 1966, four knobs and a mid-cut switch can make for a very broad palette, indeed. You don’t often see fuzz and drive controls together on a pedal. Usually, the two terms are interchangeable. Here though, the fuzz and drive knobs have a very different effect on the Nichols 1966 output. They also react very differently to single-coils, humbuckers, and American- and British-style amps.
At its maximum, the drive control’s distortion can sound and feel comparatively midrange-y, not too saturated, and sometimes brittle—requiring careful attention from the tone control. In general, advanced drive settings (with low fuzz) favor slightly attenuated and bassier tone-control positions and the stock EQ toggle setting. At their best, these combinations evoke small vintage amps cranked to their nastiest or larger amps with more sag. Advanced drive control settings with toppier tone settings and/or a mid-cut EQ setting are much less flattering, particularly with single-coils and/or high-mid-focused, British-voiced amps. Introduce humbuckers though—especially neck PAFs with less aggressive tone profiles—and you can coax muscular, hazy gain with tough tenor-saxophone tonalities, which are fatty and delectable. The drive control can also help shape great clean-boost sounds and treble booster-stye distortion. There are discoveries aplenty you can make with the right guitar-and-amp recipe.
The fuzz control is the hotter of the two, in terms of gain. At maximum levels, it’s scorching and buzzy, and, if you like really burning fuzz, it’s actually quite forgiving of trebly settings and mid-gain scoops, even with single-coils. A great technique for creating nasty, mid-’60s fuzz colors is to set the fuzz tone to maximum, scoop the mids, add a fair bit of treble, and add drive to taste.
“It’s plenty loud, and with the volume, fuzz, and drive all the way up, it’s positively brutish.”
Danelectro may allude to the Nichols 1966 being something less than a full-on fuzz, but I just spent the weekend listening to Davie Allan and the Arrows Cycle-Delic Sounds, and if this isn’t fuzz—as in getting-jumped-by-a-gang-of-leather-clad-mace-wielding-wasps kind of fuzz—then I’m Tony Bennett. There may be fuzzes that are silkier, smoother, or sound more like classic fuzz X or guitar-hero Z. But if you regard fuzz as an attitude more than a sonic commandment etched in granite, you’ll be tickled by how unique the Nichols 1966 sounds in that capacity. It’s plenty loud, and with the volume fuzz and drive all the way up, it’s positively brutish.
But it’s the playful use of the interrelationship between fuzz, drive, and tone together that showcase the Nichols 1966’s real strengths. Used actively, intentionally, and with an attentive ear, you can fashion high-gain distortion and fuzz sounds as well as varied, unique overdrive colors that you can fit to single-coils or humbuckers and that summon unique textures from each. The pedal responds effectively to guitar tone and volume attenuation without sacrificing much in the way of dynamic sensitivity. And, at less trebly and cutting settings, it still works as a vehicle for funky David Hidalgo/Tchad Blake Latin Playboys fuzz or Stacy Sutherland’s 13th Floor Elevators drive sounds that are distinctive in a mix in spite of their low-midrange emphasis.
Fuzzy Finish
Though generally sturdy, the Nichols 1966 isn’t a flawlessly executed pedal. The three circuit boards—one for the I/O jacks and DC 9-volt jack, another for the footswitch and LED, and a third for the drive and tone circuitry—are affixed to the enclosure independently of each other, which conceivably makes the pedal less susceptible to cataclysmic failure and more conducive to repair. On the other hand, some of the finishing work around some solders looks less than pretty and irregular. I’m not sure this affects pedal longevity. I’ve seen decades-old fuzzes with solders light-years uglier than these that work perfectly. At $199, you do like to see slightly tidier finishing work. Then again, I suspect most of what looks sloppy here is only superficial. The pots and switches all feel sturdy and smooth.
The Verdict
If you’re non-dogmatic about how much your fuzz, overdrive, or distortion sound like a certain template—and if you have the time and presence of mind to tinker with the Nichols 1966’s interactive controls to learn how they work with each other and different guitar and amp pairings—you’ll find the Nichols 1966 a pedal of power, great utility, copious surprises, nuance, and happy weirdness.
Danelectro Nichols 1966 "Fuzzy Drive" Pedal Demo | First Look
Unlike other early LaBoz models, this Bison was made at the Shinko Gakki factory and has the Laboz family name on the headstock.
After I got home, I started thinking about the way we buy guitars nowadays, and how that’s most often online. It would seem like we’re really rolling the dice by buying guitars without holding them and hearing them, but a lot of models have become a bit standardized and often have a consistent feel across their mass-produced copies. I guess quality control is a big part of this. Almost every factory Fender neck feels the same to me, and most of the newer Gibson Les Paul guitars are of a similar weight and feel, too.
“Now, back when quality control wasn’t such a priority, one could find some crazy variations on a theme.”
Now, back when quality control wasn’t such a priority, one could find some crazy variations on a theme. When I was younger, the older players would gripe about guitar weight all the time, and there would be these epic discussions on the merits of such things that I never cared about. But I will say that if you did find a guitar that was above the 10-pound range, it was noticeable! Just like that short-scale National, heavy guitars are a bit of a drag, and I was always worried about them falling off a strap. The heaviest guitar I’ve ever owned was a B.C. Rich acrylic Mockingbird (in beautiful, see-through slime green), but the second heaviest is this LaBoz Bison that dates to the mid 1960s. This guitar laughs at the puny Norlin-era Gibsons!
Got pickups? And note the first pickup preset: wild dog!
See, back in the 1960s and ’70s, the TeleStar name was used by a New York-based company owned by the Laboz family. Maurice Laboz and his brother imported a lot of cool Japanese guitars, and I just love their sparkle-finished TeleStars. Most of the TeleStar guitars were made by Kawai Guitars in Japan, but this Bison actually has the Laboz family name on the headstock, and was made at the Shinko Gakki factory. Maybe this was from a short run, or maybe these were some prototypes? Either way, these are rare models that actually copy the more famous Burns Bison guitars, which were made in England.
Shinko Gakki was actually one of the better guitar makers of 1960s Japan. The company previously made pianos and organs, but when the guitar boom hit, Shinko dove into the deep end of guitar manufacturing. Shinko really gave it the ol’ college try, and designed most parts in-house. The Shinko guitars weren’t half bad, and at one time I owned about 50 different models of theirs. But they poured so many resources into electric guitars that the manufacturer was one of the first to go bankrupt at the end of 1966, when sales just didn’t match the price point.
Oddly, the headstock logo and the Laboz family name were disparate.
When I found this LaBoz collecting dust in an old music store, I was smitten. The controls are all sorts of crazy, with preset options that include “jazz” and “wild dog”! Four pickups, wild horns, a batwing headstock, and a whole lot of shiny chrome had me interested, and the shop owner knew it too. All he said was “Pick it up.” And yeah, it was about 11 pounds of axe! The body was so thick, measuring at around 2 1/2″!
There’s one volume and one tone knob, and then the pickup selector knob, which simply offers four different preset tones. The pickups on this one are super hot, usually reading in the high 8k range, and have a deep, rich tone. The bridge/tremolo combination is really an engineering marvel, like most Shinko innovations at the time. Sadly, the design adds quite a bit of weight to the already hefty body. Imagine ordering this LaBoz without holding and playing it first! I’ve seen two or three of these in my days, and the only other color seems to be a beautiful greenburst (one of my faves). Not quite cool as the B.C. Rich I owned, but almost as heavy!
1960s LaBoz Bison Guitar Demo
Watch a demo of this guitar by Mike Dugan on Frank’s YouTube channel, @drowninginguitars.