Sovteks and a Stogie: Mike Matthews leans on an Electro-Harmonix-designed Sovtek Bassov Blues Midget head in a room full of Sovtek tubes and testing machines circa 2008. |
Among the multitudes of stompbox manufacturers
to have come and gone over the
years, Electro-Harmonix is one of the longest
running and most prolific. They’ve also made
some of the most iconic pedals of all time,
including the Big Muff Pi, the Small Stone, and
the Deluxe Memory Man. The fact that this
company—founded by the enigmatic Mike
Matthews in 1968—was there when the fuzz
box craze started is amazing. The fact that it
has thrived during so many changes in popular
music is even more so. Today, certain EHX
pedals are must-haves for many players, and
the company’s influence has most assuredly
been a huge factor in the boutique stompbox
boom of the last two decades.
As you can imagine, based on the warped
sounds that emanate from so many EHX
devices, Matthews’ story and the saga of
Electro-Harmonix is a long, twisted tale that
could only happen in the world of rock ’n’ roll.
From Kool-Aid Stands
to Guild Foxey Lady Fuzzes
Matthews’ tale begins in New York City.
“Ever since I was a kid, I was always into business—
y’know, big money,” he says. “On the
street in the Bronx, my mother first set me up
with one of those stands to sell drinks. And
our drinks were better because she helped
me make real fresh juice as opposed to
Kool-Aid or . . . stuff out of the sewers. I
was just always into hustling and business
as a kid. I also started playing piano when
I was 5. It was classical, and I quit in the fourth grade."
Then came rock ’n’ roll. “I really got into
it in college, but I didn’t know what the
hell I wanted to do. My father said, ‘Well,
you’ve got to have a profession.’ So, for no
particular reason, I registered in electrical
engineering. Between the electrical engineering,
being into business, and being a
musician, it was sort of natural for me to fall
into this industry.”
Even as he was beginning this free-fall toward
immortality in the pantheon of stompbox
pioneers, Matthews got married and started
to feel his literal mortality. “I got married
young,” he says, “and my first wife told me I
should work toward a goal. So I took that to the
ultimate extreme—this was right at the beginning
of Electro-Harmonix—and that goal was . .
. to whip death. In my own lifetime.”
Back up. Weren’t we talking about effects
pedals here? Rock ’n’ roll?
“If you look at each generation,” says Matthews,
“they live longer than the last. I thought if you
look ahead a hundred years, people will be
regularly living to 100, 120, maybe even 200
years. A thousand years from now, they’ll cross
the threshold where they just won’t die.”
Smacking Rather Than Stomping: Matthews lets loose on an Electro-Harmonix Mini-Synth, circa 1979. |
Rediscovering Roots
Though he’d had his head in the electrical
engineering space, Matthews couldn’t stay
out of the rock world for long. The road to
becoming a guitar-gear kingpin began with
Matthews wanting to get back into playing
music—which he had given up temporarily
to take a straight job as a salesman for IBM.
“You know how it is,” he says, “once it gets
into your blood, you want to get back. You
like the people digging you. You want to
be a star. The ladies, the money, the glory.
Basically the glory, y’know.” [
Laughs.]
As Matthews rediscovered his rock roots,
he also witnessed the renaissance that was
unfolding around him in Greenwich Village.
He gigged around the area and got close
to some of the biggest players of the day,
including Jimi Hendrix. The two met when
the future Strat master was working as a
sideman for Curtis Knight and the Squires,
and Matthews says he encouraged Hendrix
to develop his vocal abilities so he could
move on to establish his own career. Hendrix
apparently did so, and soon went off to
England as Matthews went his own way.
The future pedal guru was in and out of
day jobs and night gigs, but through it all
he clung to the dream of breaking out. And
slowly but surely, Matthews found ways to
make money from music.
“My relationship with Hendrix had really
no effect on my work,” he says, “because I
wanted to start playing again. At that time,
‘Satisfaction’ was a big hit. It was Number
One for 13 weeks, I think. Everybody
wanted a fuzz tone, but Maestro couldn’t
make them fast enough. I started building
fuzz tones to make some quick money so
I could quit my day gig at IBM and play
music again.”
Matthews and then-partner Bill Berko,
an audio repairman who claimed to have
his own custom fuzz circuit, outsourced
construction of the units and sold them
to Guild, which ended up labeling them
“Foxey Lady” in an effort to capitalize on
Hendrix’s rising popularity.
But for Matthews, starting his own business
was the real dream. “Back in ’68, I
worked with this brilliant guy, Bob Myer at
Bell Labs, trying to design a distortion-free
sustainer, so everybody could sound like
Jimi Hendrix. The LPB-1, the Linear Power
Booster, started the business.”
As Myer developed the LPB-1, he found
that it wasn’t difficult to create a circuit that
sensed the lower volume and turned up the
gain as a note died out. The real difficulty
was decreasing the gain fast enough so that
there weren’t horrendous popping sounds
when a new note was struck.
In short order, Matthews learned a few things
about the guitar business. “I started out selling
the LPB-1s via mail order,” he recalls. “You can’t
sell direct as a manufacturer and at the same
time sell to stores [
laughs], because a store
isn’t going to buy something that competes
with them. What I did was advertise at full list,
and the stores would still get their discount. I
didn’t make a profit, but it basically paid for my
advertising. As such, I was able to advertise as
a big company, which gave me a big presence
and built up demand at the stores.”
An assortment of late-’70s Mike Matthews creations (left to right): a Deluxe Electric
Mistress, a Muff Fuzz, and a Polyphase. Photos by Tom Hughes
Pi in the Sky—and Everywhere Else
If there’s one pedal that EHX is most known
for, it’s the Big Muff Pi. Myer and Matthews
came up with its design in 1969. “When I
came out with the Big Muff, I spent a lot
of time shaping the cascading gain stages,
which gave a super-long sustain. I also
worked a lot with the filters to get the notes
to sound less raspy and more sinusoidal
and smooth. That’s how the Big Muff got its
long, violin-like sustain, because the filters
filtered out the harsh cross products.”
From there, the Big Muff Pi sold like, er,
hotcakes. “I brought the first ones up to
Manny’s Music and Henry [Goldrich], the
owner at that time, told me that Hendrix
just bought one,” Matthews recalls. “Carlos
Santana bought a Big Muff mail order. He
sent in a check—a Carlos Santana check,
y’know, with his drums and bongos on it—
and Carlos Santana stationery. We still have
copies of that here.”
At that point, it seems the floodgates had
opened fully—both crazy product names
and off-the-wall design ideas were flowing
freely. “One of the other ideas I had around
that time was a guitar that had a speaker
that was in a ceramic case that screwed
into the guitar. So the guitar output would
go to an amp, but part of it would bleed
into a separate amp that would feed the
signal back into the ceramic speaker that
would give you some actual real feedback
right into the guitar.”
As for the funky names on Electro-
Harmonix gear, the story behind them is
predictably circuitous. “What happened
with the Big Muff is that, we had this
treble booster, our bass booster, and then
we had a fuzz. It had a muffled sound, so
I called it the Muff Fuzz. Later on, when
we developed the superior distortionsustainer
unit, because we already had the
Muff, I called it the Big Muff. That’s how
it came about—it evolved. But I also like
those names with a double meaning. And
the Bad Stone was just trying to play off
the name of the Rolling Stones and Bob
Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” hit. I came
up with most all the names.”
With Hendrix and Santana using Big Muffs
at the height of their powers, it’s no wonder
the devices did so well. “We were building
3000 Big Muffs a month,” Matthews says.
“We quickly followed it with some variations.
We had a little treble booster, a bass
booster, a Little Muff . . . and there wasn’t
that much competition.”
But that didn’t last long. “MXR came along
and they were a big competitor. We battled.
They came on big with the Phase 90,
and we were really working hard to come
out with a phase shifter. As we were working
on it, the problem was that there was
some feedback. But that feedback turned
out sounding good, so we captured it. You
could have regular phasing or, with the
flick of a switch, you could have feedback
and get this really edgy sound. The feedback
would sharpen the notes. A lot of our
competitors, they hate noise. Anything that
has noise has to be taken out. They’ll work
their asses off filtering out every ounce of
noise to the point where they filter out the
feeling. I mean, playing music is really . . .
it’s getting out feelings. So I always want to
leave the feeling in.”
Left: The top row of this Small Stone collection shows left to right) a mid-’70s model with minimalist graphics, a late-’70s version with large orange lettering, early-’80s
and mid-’90s models with blocky black-and-orange graphics, and a recent Small Stone Nano, while the bottom row features three Electro-Harmonix/Sovtek co-branded
units built in Russia and a US-made late-’70s Bad Stone. Photo courtesy pedalarea.com. Middle: A late-’70s Electro-Harmonix Echo Flanger. Photo by Tom Hughes. Right: An early-’90s Mike
Matthews-branded Soul Kiss wah-type effect. It features a plastic case with a strap clip and is controlled with the mouthpiece coiled next to it. Photo by Tom Hughes.
A Fistful of Firsts to Finance Immortality
For decades now, stompboxes from a plethora
of manufacturers have been available in
such variety that we take them for granted.
But Matthews says it was his company that
pioneered distortion, delay, modulation,
and even sampler pedals. “The old Electro-
Harmonix, we had great sounds—we were
very innovative. We were first with a lot of
things. I mean, we were first with a flanger
that wasn’t something you created for the
studio. We were first with analog delay.
We were first with low-cost samplers—the
Instant Replay and Super Replay. I took
those to Ikutaro Kakehashi, Roland’s founder.
He liked the technology. He flew me to
Japan and wanted me and David [Cockerell,
designer of the Small Stone] to be part of
Roland. But his chief engineer thought they
could do it themselves, so I made a deal
with Akai. Kakehashi told me it was his biggest
mistake, because Akai samplers ruled
the industry.”
While Matthews may come across as pretty
bold, he’s also honest about some of the
company’s early setbacks. “Instead of really
focusing on the chassis and the mechanical
construction, we moved on to the next
thing. A lot of the early pedals were flimsy
and broke down easily. That was not our
bag, at that time. That was back in the ’60s
and ’70s. Now, of course, our products are
built rock-solid.”
Matthews continued his overall quest for
immortality in the early 1970s with a trip
to Haiti and dalliances with the powers of
mental telepathy. Fortunately, the quest
also involved making effects pedals. Lots
and lots of effects pedals.
“In order to whip death, I had to grow the
business,” Matthews explains. “Double it in
size every year. If we missed that goal and
only grew by 50 percent, we’d have to make
it up the next year. Again, it was back to
my ex-wife and this goal—it was absurd—to
whip death in my own lifetime. I was always
interested in expanding, in coming out with
more stuff so I could make more money, hire
more engineers, and have a great scientific
think tank that would help me eventually
whip death.” Considering the time period,
it’s easy to assume this exceedingly lofty
goal was all some sort of flower-power pipe
dream. But Matthews says, “I wasn’t a hippie,
I was a loner. I had long hair, but I wasn’t
really in any group. I was just into making
money, having fun, playing in the group.”
An assortment of late-’70s Mike Matthews creations (left to right): a Deluxe Electric
Mistress, a Muff Fuzz, and a Polyphase. Photos by Tom Hughes
Pi in the Sky—and Everywhere Else
If there’s one pedal that EHX is most known
for, it’s the Big Muff Pi. Myer and Matthews
came up with its design in 1969. “When I
came out with the Big Muff, I spent a lot
of time shaping the cascading gain stages,
which gave a super-long sustain. I also
worked a lot with the filters to get the notes
to sound less raspy and more sinusoidal
and smooth. That’s how the Big Muff got its
long, violin-like sustain, because the filters
filtered out the harsh cross products.”
From there, the Big Muff Pi sold like, er,
hotcakes. “I brought the first ones up to
Manny’s Music and Henry [Goldrich], the
owner at that time, told me that Hendrix
just bought one,” Matthews recalls. “Carlos
Santana bought a Big Muff mail order. He
sent in a check—a Carlos Santana check,
y’know, with his drums and bongos on it—
and Carlos Santana stationery. We still have
copies of that here.”
At that point, it seems the floodgates had
opened fully—both crazy product names
and off-the-wall design ideas were flowing
freely. “One of the other ideas I had around
that time was a guitar that had a speaker
that was in a ceramic case that screwed
into the guitar. So the guitar output would
go to an amp, but part of it would bleed
into a separate amp that would feed the
signal back into the ceramic speaker that
would give you some actual real feedback
right into the guitar.”
As for the funky names on Electro-
Harmonix gear, the story behind them is
predictably circuitous. “What happened
with the Big Muff is that, we had this
treble booster, our bass booster, and then
we had a fuzz. It had a muffled sound, so
I called it the Muff Fuzz. Later on, when
we developed the superior distortionsustainer
unit, because we already had the
Muff, I called it the Big Muff. That’s how
it came about—it evolved. But I also like
those names with a double meaning. And
the Bad Stone was just trying to play off
the name of the Rolling Stones and Bob
Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” hit. I came
up with most all the names.”
With Hendrix and Santana using Big Muffs
at the height of their powers, it’s no wonder
the devices did so well. “We were building
3000 Big Muffs a month,” Matthews says.
“We quickly followed it with some variations.
We had a little treble booster, a bass
booster, a Little Muff . . . and there wasn’t
that much competition.”
But that didn’t last long. “MXR came along
and they were a big competitor. We battled.
They came on big with the Phase 90,
and we were really working hard to come
out with a phase shifter. As we were working
on it, the problem was that there was
some feedback. But that feedback turned
out sounding good, so we captured it. You
could have regular phasing or, with the
flick of a switch, you could have feedback
and get this really edgy sound. The feedback
would sharpen the notes. A lot of our
competitors, they hate noise. Anything that
has noise has to be taken out. They’ll work
their asses off filtering out every ounce of
noise to the point where they filter out the
feeling. I mean, playing music is really . . .
it’s getting out feelings. So I always want to
leave the feeling in.”
Left: The top row of this Small Stone collection shows left to right) a mid-’70s model with minimalist graphics, a late-’70s version with large orange lettering, early-’80s
and mid-’90s models with blocky black-and-orange graphics, and a recent Small Stone Nano, while the bottom row features three Electro-Harmonix/Sovtek co-branded
units built in Russia and a US-made late-’70s Bad Stone. Photo courtesy pedalarea.com. Middle: A late-’70s Electro-Harmonix Echo Flanger. Photo by Tom Hughes. Right: An early-’90s Mike
Matthews-branded Soul Kiss wah-type effect. It features a plastic case with a strap clip and is controlled with the mouthpiece coiled next to it. Photo by Tom Hughes.
A Fistful of Firsts to Finance Immortality
For decades now, stompboxes from a plethora
of manufacturers have been available in
such variety that we take them for granted.
But Matthews says it was his company that
pioneered distortion, delay, modulation,
and even sampler pedals. “The old Electro-
Harmonix, we had great sounds—we were
very innovative. We were first with a lot of
things. I mean, we were first with a flanger
that wasn’t something you created for the
studio. We were first with analog delay.
We were first with low-cost samplers—the
Instant Replay and Super Replay. I took
those to Ikutaro Kakehashi, Roland’s founder.
He liked the technology. He flew me to
Japan and wanted me and David [Cockerell,
designer of the Small Stone] to be part of
Roland. But his chief engineer thought they
could do it themselves, so I made a deal
with Akai. Kakehashi told me it was his biggest
mistake, because Akai samplers ruled
the industry.”
While Matthews may come across as pretty
bold, he’s also honest about some of the
company’s early setbacks. “Instead of really
focusing on the chassis and the mechanical
construction, we moved on to the next
thing. A lot of the early pedals were flimsy
and broke down easily. That was not our
bag, at that time. That was back in the ’60s
and ’70s. Now, of course, our products are
built rock-solid.”
Matthews continued his overall quest for
immortality in the early 1970s with a trip
to Haiti and dalliances with the powers of
mental telepathy. Fortunately, the quest
also involved making effects pedals. Lots
and lots of effects pedals.
“In order to whip death, I had to grow the
business,” Matthews explains. “Double it in
size every year. If we missed that goal and
only grew by 50 percent, we’d have to make
it up the next year. Again, it was back to
my ex-wife and this goal—it was absurd—to
whip death in my own lifetime. I was always
interested in expanding, in coming out with
more stuff so I could make more money, hire
more engineers, and have a great scientific
think tank that would help me eventually
whip death.” Considering the time period,
it’s easy to assume this exceedingly lofty
goal was all some sort of flower-power pipe
dream. But Matthews says, “I wasn’t a hippie,
I was a loner. I had long hair, but I wasn’t
really in any group. I was just into making
money, having fun, playing in the group.”
Not Your Everyday Big Muff Pi: When Premier Guitar was brainstorming pedal manufacturers to approach about being part
of this special four-cover/collectible-custom-pedal issue, Electro-Harmonix was a no-brainer because of its place in stompbox
history and the quality of its products. Here, senior quality control technician Zaida Sojos tests one of the custom PG “Pedal
Issue” units seen on select November 2010 issues.
The Russian Connection
If you look back at EHX boxes over the
years, they’ve all got a pretty similar
look—brushed, folded-metal enclosures
with bright color schemes. That was until
Matthews ceased US production in the
mid ’80s and hooked up with Russian
producers to both export Russian-made
pedals and get into the tube trade. “In
1979, we were doing a lot of business
with Communist countries. I got a letter
inviting us to one of the first-ever trade
shows in Moscow open to consumer companies,”
Matthews remembers. “This was
a huge trade show with exhibitors from
the US, Germany, and Japan. I thought
‘I gotta go.’
“But, as it turned out, no one in Russia
had any money. In the end, we got no
orders. The show was a failure. Russia
wanted our stuff, but they had no money.
What could I buy from Russia? They needed
money. I decided to try to buy integrated
circuits, Russian integrated circuits—
these cheap, jellybean ICs that would
cost 15 to 20 cents apiece. When I went
over to visit, I had to go to the Ministry of
Electronics to talk business. There I saw,
hanging on the wall, vacuum tubes. I said
‘Send me some samples,’ which I got a
month later. I took them out to Jess Oliver,
who worked at Ampeg and designed most
of the great Ampeg amps. He said the
tubes were good, so I switched from wanting
to buy ICs to vacuum tubes.”
As luck would have it, this gambit paid
off pretty well. “I was able to grow a lot
faster. I was able to start a good business
with the ICs, but because I called on
people in the music industry—and because
they knew me—they would try the tubes.
Now I own the factory. So the ’79 trade
show was a failure, but it got me into vacuum
tubes and the tubes got me back into
Electro-Harmonix. And that got us back
into the pedals. I partnered with a military
company that repackaged the Big Muff
and Small Stone.”
If you’ve ever wondered what the deal is
with the austere-looking black versions of
the Big Muff Pi and Small Stone, they’re
the result of this Russian connection. They
bore the Sovtek brand name, and they had
yellow lettering (there were also green-and-black and black-and-red versions
at various times). However, by the mid
’90s, EHX had begun reissuing original
designs, and in 2002 they began adding
new designs to the lineup once again.
And as recent offerings like the Ring Thing
(reviewed July 2010), the Cathedral Stereo
Reverb (Feb. 2010), and POG prove, the
company is clearly in the midst of a second
golden age.
Carousing with the Competition: Friend and fellow effect pioneer
Bob Moog (left) stops by to say hello to Matthews circa 2003.
The Irony of Immortality
As far as the current boutique pedal boom,
Matthews says he welcomes the competition.
“We have the Electro-Harmonix name
and the history. And, instead of having one
or two of these companies to compete
with, we have one or two hundred—which
actually makes it easier. But most of these
guys, y’know, they’re into analog stuff only.
They’ll bring out their own versions of
various flangers or distortion pedals. They
come up with some good stuff, but it’s too
expensive. I’m happy for the competition—
they compete with each other.”
As for what’s ahead for Electro-Harmonix,
Matthews is blunt when asked if he’ll offer
up a peek. “No. But what’s really hot
right now—what we’ve sold out of—is the
Freeze (
reviewed this issue). If you hold
down the momentary switch, it’s constantly
taking a sample—so whatever you’ve
played is frozen and sustained. And you can
play on top of that and release that switch
and it dies out. It’s very musical.”
And then he launches back to the past,
back to his original goal of immortality. On
one hand, he seems to have given up the
goal. On the other, it seems he’s attained
it through the role he played—and continues
to play—in both the history of musical
instrument manufacturing and guitar music.
“In the late ’70s,” Matthews confides, “I
had too many problems all at once. It was
overwhelming. I was expanding into too
many things and I collapsed. Since we
reformed, I’ve become more conservative.
Now I’m much stronger financially
and more patient—and not trying to whip
death. I’m just trying to make money and
have fun and take things slower.”
Not Your Everyday Big Muff Pi: When Premier Guitar was brainstorming pedal manufacturers to approach about being part
of this special four-cover/collectible-custom-pedal issue, Electro-Harmonix was a no-brainer because of its place in stompbox
history and the quality of its products. Here, senior quality control technician Zaida Sojos tests one of the custom PG “Pedal
Issue” units seen on select November 2010 issues.
The Russian Connection
If you look back at EHX boxes over the
years, they’ve all got a pretty similar
look—brushed, folded-metal enclosures
with bright color schemes. That was until
Matthews ceased US production in the
mid ’80s and hooked up with Russian
producers to both export Russian-made
pedals and get into the tube trade. “In
1979, we were doing a lot of business
with Communist countries. I got a letter
inviting us to one of the first-ever trade
shows in Moscow open to consumer companies,”
Matthews remembers. “This was
a huge trade show with exhibitors from
the US, Germany, and Japan. I thought
‘I gotta go.’
“But, as it turned out, no one in Russia
had any money. In the end, we got no
orders. The show was a failure. Russia
wanted our stuff, but they had no money.
What could I buy from Russia? They needed
money. I decided to try to buy integrated
circuits, Russian integrated circuits—
these cheap, jellybean ICs that would
cost 15 to 20 cents apiece. When I went
over to visit, I had to go to the Ministry of
Electronics to talk business. There I saw,
hanging on the wall, vacuum tubes. I said
‘Send me some samples,’ which I got a
month later. I took them out to Jess Oliver,
who worked at Ampeg and designed most
of the great Ampeg amps. He said the
tubes were good, so I switched from wanting
to buy ICs to vacuum tubes.”
As luck would have it, this gambit paid
off pretty well. “I was able to grow a lot
faster. I was able to start a good business
with the ICs, but because I called on
people in the music industry—and because
they knew me—they would try the tubes.
Now I own the factory. So the ’79 trade
show was a failure, but it got me into vacuum
tubes and the tubes got me back into
Electro-Harmonix. And that got us back
into the pedals. I partnered with a military
company that repackaged the Big Muff
and Small Stone.”
If you’ve ever wondered what the deal is
with the austere-looking black versions of
the Big Muff Pi and Small Stone, they’re
the result of this Russian connection. They
bore the Sovtek brand name, and they had
yellow lettering (there were also green-and-black and black-and-red versions
at various times). However, by the mid
’90s, EHX had begun reissuing original
designs, and in 2002 they began adding
new designs to the lineup once again.
And as recent offerings like the Ring Thing
(reviewed July 2010), the Cathedral Stereo
Reverb (Feb. 2010), and POG prove, the
company is clearly in the midst of a second
golden age.
Carousing with the Competition: Friend and fellow effect pioneer
Bob Moog (left) stops by to say hello to Matthews circa 2003.
The Irony of Immortality
As far as the current boutique pedal boom,
Matthews says he welcomes the competition.
“We have the Electro-Harmonix name
and the history. And, instead of having one
or two of these companies to compete
with, we have one or two hundred—which
actually makes it easier. But most of these
guys, y’know, they’re into analog stuff only.
They’ll bring out their own versions of
various flangers or distortion pedals. They
come up with some good stuff, but it’s too
expensive. I’m happy for the competition—
they compete with each other.”
As for what’s ahead for Electro-Harmonix,
Matthews is blunt when asked if he’ll offer
up a peek. “No. But what’s really hot
right now—what we’ve sold out of—is the
Freeze (
reviewed this issue). If you hold
down the momentary switch, it’s constantly
taking a sample—so whatever you’ve
played is frozen and sustained. And you can
play on top of that and release that switch
and it dies out. It’s very musical.”
And then he launches back to the past,
back to his original goal of immortality. On
one hand, he seems to have given up the
goal. On the other, it seems he’s attained
it through the role he played—and continues
to play—in both the history of musical
instrument manufacturing and guitar music.
“In the late ’70s,” Matthews confides, “I
had too many problems all at once. It was
overwhelming. I was expanding into too
many things and I collapsed. Since we
reformed, I’ve become more conservative.
Now I’m much stronger financially
and more patient—and not trying to whip
death. I’m just trying to make money and
have fun and take things slower.”
