1) Do regular room recordings of rehearsals so you can hear what you sound like, and what you need to fix.
2) These recordings are for you to hear what you are doing badly, so you can fix that. They are not the same as the recordings you do for other people to hear what you are doing well.
3) Recording quality does not matter, as long as you can hear what you are doing and what needs to be fixed. Record it using anything you have.
4) In order for these to have any value, you are probably going to have to hate yourself a bit when you hear them. FEEL THE BURN SO OTHERS DON’T HAVE TO.
5) Send your rehearsal recordings to your bandmates as an MP3, medium quality. Yeah yeah– you are all using the the same chip jewelry and yeah yeah they should all be able to play the same files and LOL MP3 jeez that’s so old-school, grampy! Send it as MP3.
6) Oh, you don’t know anything about that stuff and that mp4 file works fine on your chip jewelry and gosh you’re so busy being creative and windswept and interesting that you can’t learn all that tech stuff? Don’t bother then. You’re doing terrific.
7) I honestly hope these recordings sound great and you are happy and you have nothing you think needs fixin’. But neither of us are you a month from now, and I will bet you a nickel that you a month from now will not be happy with these recordings. Do not post your rehearsal recordings anywhere, ever.
8) If 50% of your bandmates actually listen to these recordings, you are doing way better than average. If one of them actually fixes something that needs fixing, you are KILLING IT. This bit sounds particularly cynical and cranky, but these results are WAY better than what you’d get if you didn’t do this at all.
This is an update to an earlier post about my beloved E-series Squier Strat from 198something. It might be of use to you if you are thinking of modding or rehabbing a Stratty guitar.
Since that post, I’ve done the following:
Started playing in a band called “Pink Flamingos” (I KNOW!) in which I do a lot of “lead” guitaring using fairly trad-sounding clean sounds. I am NOT trying to make this thing sound like a Tele, but I want Tele-ish elements to the sound. And lots of bonk.
Put in a Fender Super Switch, wired like this:
1 – Bridge only
2 – Bridge and Middle
3 – Bridge and Neck
4 – Middle and Neck
5 – Neck only
This all worked out really well. Lots of big warm bonk in the 2 position, fills out and gets wider in the 3 position, and still that lovely Stratty-Strat jangle in the 4 position. I use the bridge alone VERY rarely, and never use the neck alone.
As you’ll find with most kooky single-coil experiments in their raw state, I DID have to deal with a bit of noise. To a large extent, this is just a fact of life with some single-coils. YES! I AM AWARE OF VARIOUS NOISELESS OPTIONS! I even have some in other guitars. But for THIS guitar, and the pickups I have decided to use, noise is part of the fun.
But there ARE things you can do. Like some basic shielding. I thought I would share with you my example of why this is a good idea, and how not to do it. For sciense.
I had 3/4 of a sheet of adhesive-backed copper foil floating around for a few years. It bounced around various shelves and boxes so much that the adhesive had pretty much kinda given up in a lot of places, and the edges had been dinged, ripped and folded. It was way too shot to use on someone else’s guitar, which makes it just the kind of thing I would use on my own guitar.
On Thursday, I had about 45 minutes before Pink Flamingos rehearsal, which seemed like EXACTLY enough time to do the shielding on the Squier if nothing went wrong. To ensure that something WOULD go wrong, I didn’t make sure I had all the tools I would need, grabbed the guitar, and ran to my work bench.
I picked up the amp I forgot I had opened up on my work bench and carefully stacked it on top of another amp, on top of a wobbly storage container, so that I would always be distracted by the fear it would fall over while I was working. Can’t stress how helpful this step is. If you want to make your task more exciting, MAKE SURE YOUR WORK AREA IS AN IMMINENT DISASTER!
I slacked off the strings, then decided I should just remove and change them, then decided to just slack them off, then undid them from the tuners but didn’t use a piece of tape or Velcro to hold them in place, so that they would be sure to tangle.
I removed all the screws from the pickguard and actually put them all in a container. Crazy.
Here’s a nice picture of the guitar all opened up. You can click on it if you want to see it more biggerer:
This next bit is most useful. First, I didn’t make sure I had my shears or even a pair of scissors in the room. That way, I could cut the foil by either snipping teeny bits with the end of my wire strippers or biting it and then tearing it unevenly with my hands. If you find these methods too accurate, make sure that you hurry while doing them.
DON’T MEASURE ANYTHING! Just slap the foil down and start pressing it in randomly. Then, when you discover that things are in the wrong place, just lift it up and move it a lot. Not only will this put lots of random folds and creases in your foil, it will also pull off any adhesive it had left on it.
Speaking of adhesive, for goodness sake don’t bother to reach across the bench and grab any of the adhesives you have there. Just keep slogging away with the wrong tools!
The torn edges of copper foil can be quite sharp. But I’m pretty sure that’s OK. Don’t worry about gloves.
Swearing is a great time-saver!
In what seemed like no time at all, but was actually about 15 minutes after the guys in the band showed up, I had the foil properly in place, and was ready to put the guitar back together.
Here’s a picture with most of the shielding in place:
Just to make life interesting, I put on a fresh set of strings, because how could that be a problem right before you play?
All kidding aside, my point here is DO THE PREP WORK! This job SHOULD have been fast, and the old foil shouldn’t have been a problem, but by trying to hurry before I started, I ended up taking longer and having to do things about three times. Also, it REALLY hurt to play at rehearsal, and I messed my hands up for a gig tonight.
The shielding itself has worked out quite well. You can’t see it in the picture, but I just soldered a wire from the ground of the guitar to the foil. It’s probably never going to be a noiseless guitar, but it’s about 40% quieter than it was, and certainly not a problem when playing live.
And if you stretch them in properly, new strings aren’t a problem either.
My friend Richard has had a lot of music gear, and much of it has been pretty interesting. A lot of it has been so interesting that, when he’s decided to sell it, I’ve bought it.
I played guitar in Richard’s band for a couple of years. After decades of playing bass, it was my first band being The Electric Guitar Player—or even AN Electric Guitar Player—and it was a lot fun.
One day I was poking around Richard’s tidy pile of stuff when I happened upon a black Strat with a black neck and fretboard and white pickups. A tuxedo. I asked Richard what it was, and he said that it was just a cheap Strat he had put together to match his Tele. He has (had?) an extremely nice Tele with a tuxedo color scheme. I tuned up the Strat and tried playing it, and found that the action was really high, and a couple of the frets were really chewed up.
At some point, Richard found the original neck, which made my geeky eyes bug out. This was an old E-series Squier Strat.
The Guitar – E-Series Squier Strat
You can look up what “E-series” means, starting here but in a nutshell, these are exceptionally well-made guitars built at the Fuji-gen factory in Japan. My friend Rob has a Fender Strat from the same period, and it is one of the best Strats I have ever played. I love the necks on these guitars. I LOVE them.
At the time, I only owned one electric guitar, so I asked Richard if I could put the original neck on the guitar and make it playable. He’d have a workable Strat, and I’d borrow it to bring along as a backup for shows. He said sure.
A lot of Strats from this period, whether Fender or Squier, came with Fender’s execrable System 1 bridge and string-locking system. This was Fender’s answer to the Floyd Rose, or more precisely, their answer to the question “How can we make a locking trem that won’t get us sued by Floyd Rose?”
The result was an epic collection of poor ideas:
They put a locking system BEHIND THE NUT, giving you all the rubbery crapness of a Floyd PLUS all the string-grabbing of a regular nut.
They built a bridge that was quite a bit higher than, well, anything without a railing.
They used the Floyd-like and inexcusable concept of locking the bridge pieces in place with hex nuts DIRECTLY under the strings, making setting the intonation a horror show.
The fine-tuners on the bridge stick way out at a 45-degree angle, so while they don’t actually get in the way, it always feels like they will.
That’s not a problem for long, because the fine-tuners also fall out and get lost very quickly.
Which is in turn OK, because they do kind of a crappy job of tuning finely.
I could go on, but I realize that I already have…
Rob’s Strat still has the System 1 bridge, but he had the lock removed from the headstock decades ago, and the bridge has been blocked in place for about 30 years. I think there are three fine-tuners left. Set up like this, the System 1 works pretty well as a hard-tail bridge.
Yep, that was irony you just read.
The upside for this guitar was that ALL of the System 1 stuff was already gone. The lock was off the headstock, and the bridge had been removed. All that was probably done when Richard had replaced the neck.
As I mentioned, the System 1 bridge is tall enough to dunk over Shaq, which meant that the necks on these guitars sit pretty high off the body. The replacement neck Richard bought didn’t sit as high, which made the action way too tall. Someone had put in a cheap-and-cheerful two-point replacement bridge to compensate for this, and the System 1 bridge was lost forever. Boo hoo.
But this created a problem when I put the original neck back on, because it sits a lot taller. Even with the bridge pieces up as high as they would go on the new bridge, the action was just barely playable without buzzing and fretting out. Things would need to be done.
Also, Richard had put a set of Fender Texas Special pickups in the guitar. I don’t like those very much.
Fixes – Bridge
Before I go on, I would like to make it clear that what I am about to describe is NOT what I would recommend to anyone. My fix here is most charitably described as “cunning but extremely silly” and I am only being that kind about it because I hold myself in such high regard. I have three things to say in my defence:
I was operating under straitened circumstances, and just wanted to get the guitar working
I was fine not being able to use the trem on this guitar
Nothing I did was irreversible, apart from a couple of small holes in the body
It ended up sounding really good, and I can see no reason to change it, but you probably don’t want to try this at home. If you find yourself with a similar problem, you should just get $30 together and buy a better bridge. Or see the update about shimming at the end of this section.
To recap: The replacement two-point bridge was kinda crummy, and too low to be able to set the action to any sane height.
On pretty much any Strat-style trem system, the bridge ends up being a fulcrum over which you balance the tension of the springs in the back of the guitar with the tension of the strings on the front of the guitar. In this case, the fulcrum was in the wrong place, and I needed to move it and still have the system work.
The idea was to to set the bridge up higher by adjusting the height of the support posts the bridge rests against. Then I’d just block the bridge at that height.
You need to be very careful messing around with this stuff, ESPECIALLY with two-point bridges, and ESPECIALLY if the edges where the bridge sits on the support bolts are sharpened. Screw up those edges or the bolts, and you’re going to be consumed by self-loathing.
I slacked the claw off in the back of the guitar, and I detuned the strings a bit. This took some of the tension off the bridge from both sides, so I could move it around, but kept enough tension on the bridge to keep it from moving around too much.
I set all the bridge pieces so that they were about 1/4 of the way from their lowest possible position. That way, I would have room to adjust the action once the bridge was in place.
There was just enough slack that I could hold the bridge just off the support posts with one hand and do the next bit with the other. At no point was I turning the posts while the bridge was leaning against them with all the tension on it.
I then unscrewed the posts a bit at a time, in order move the bridge up to a height at which I would be able to adjust the action to about what I would like. Then I measured how high the bridge was off the body. I’d need to put something that same height under the back of the bridge, so that the bridge would sit flat.
The something turned out to be two Singapore 20 cent pieces. I stuck them under the bridge, tightened up the claw at the back and tuned the guitar to pitch, and the bridge sat flat.
Then I tried detuning one string, to see if the others changed pitch. They didn’t, which meant the bridge was sitting pretty solidly. I then drilled two holes in the coins and screwed them in place.
From there, I could set up the action and intonation with the bridge, as normal.
Yep. Pretty hacky. It worked though.
UPDATE: Richard eventually sold me this guitar–a great deal, because he is very nice that way.
I later took the guitar in to Linda London in Lincoln, NE. She’s who I go to for frets and acoustic repairs and anything else I need a grownup to do.
The guitar needed a fret dressing, and after we talked a bit, she also shimmed the neck a bit, which has made the guitar play even better. The shimming means that I COULD probably take out my hacky coin trick and of course, I could have changed out to a better bridge long ago. But I really like how this guitar sounds the way it is, and it plays like a dream. It ain’t broke…
Fixes – Pickups
Well, I have to admit, I’m still slightly on the horns of a dilemma here, but I’ll get to that in a sec.
I tried to like the Texas Specials, really I did.
I spend about 80% of my time in the 4 (neck and middle) position on a Strat, and while this worked OK-ish with the Specials, they just sound like they are trying way too hard. And the 1 and 2 positions were shrill and over-hyped enough to have their own talk radio show. No sir, I did not like them.
I have tried a whack of pickups in this guitar. So many, in fact, that for a while I was just holding the pickguard on with gaffer tape, to save time taking it off and putting it on. I figured that I would put the screws back in when I finally had pickups in it that I liked.
I got a hold of a Fender Tex-Mex bridge pickup at some point, and tried that. It was much better in combination with the middle pickup, and less annoying (though still annoying) on its own.
It baffles me how I can like something about almost every Tele bridge pickup I hear, and pretty much nothing about every single-coil-sized Strat bridge pickup I hear.
This was all pretty frustrating, because the guitar felt great to play. I’d put some combination of pickups in it and take it with me to shows as a backup. I would even use it to practice on with no pickups in it.
One day, I stumbled onto a Fender Vintage Noiseless pickup for next-to-nothing on eBay. Because the Tex-Mex happened to be in the bridge when the Noiseless showed up, I put the Noiseless in the middle position. This is the position I use the least–my other Strat is wired so that there is no way to just have the middle pickup on its own, and I like it like that. So I was expecting to try this, say “meh” and then try the Noiseless in the neck position.
Instead, I plugged it in and LOVED it. It was nice on its own, and really nice combined with the Tex-Mex in the bridge.
I had 15 minutes before I had to get to a rehearsal, and I really wanted to try this out with a band, but I HAVE to have that 4 position—I needed a neck pickup. I ran downstairs, grabbed a random pickup off the table and slapped it in the neck position. Then I headed off to rehearsal with a screwdriver in my case, so I could adjust the pickup heights as we played.
Turns out, the Noiseless and the mystery pickup worked together ridiculously well in that 4 position. Really stunning–my version of what a “Classic” Strat sounds like. I had never even bothered trying that mystery pickup before, because it was just some cheap goofy stock pickup from my Tickle Trunk of random parts. All I know is that at some point I metered it, because it has a piece of masking tape on the bottom on which I wrote “5.83K.” In this weird guitar, it’s absolutely the right thing.
UPDATE: I eventually put another Vintage Noiseless in the bridge and I am prrrreetttyy happy with it. The 2 position now gives me a near-Tele level of bonkiness, which I like a lot. I think I’m about as happy as I’m going to be without breaking out a router. I still only use the bridge pickup with crunchy sounds. I haven’t found a single-coil-sized Strat bridge pickup that I’ve liked clean yet.
Which leads to the dilemma I mentioned earlier: I KNOW I would be happy with a P-90 in the bridge of this guitar, but the body is cut for single coils only. Even though it has zero collector value by this time, I would never sell it, and it would be easy to just revert back to single-coils anyway, I still hate the idea of cutting a guitar that does a good job of being what it was made to be. They don’t make these E-series things any more.
One of my many annoying habits is sending emails to my musician friends about instruments I know they will:
a) love and not be able to afford.
b) completely hate.
I sent a link to a Craigslist ad for a guitar to a bunch of my friends. The guitar in the ad had started life as some kind of cheap Strat copy and been seriously messed with along the way. On top of everything else, someone had followed the time-honored tradition of writing a naughty word on the headstock with a marker.
Two days later, my friend John called me and asked if I was going to be around, because he wanted to drop something off. I said I would be. A few minutes later, he showed up with a terribly guilty look on his face, and from the back seat of his car, pulled the guitar from the ad.
“Dude! You bought the “F*ck*r!” My neighbors will never get used to me. “I couldn’t help it. I had to go take a look!” “Wow. OK.” “I really like the neck though!” “How much?” “I got it for $25. I figured you know, in parts alone…”
We plugged it in. It had a couple of single-coils in the middle and neck, and some had stuffed a gold-colored humbucker in the bridge. That humbucker, in this guitar, sounded really good. Actually, it sounded disturbingly great.
Well, of course I would try to fix this thing up! How could I not? This is just good practice, and kind of fun, in a weirdo detective kind of way.
Over time, we’ve beaten this thing into good enough shape that John actually plays out with it sometimes. I’m listing everything that’s been done to the guitar to this point in this write-up, and including some points that might be useful to anyone getting into basic electric guitar repair. Things that were changed after the original fix are listed as UPDATES.
First, I cleaned off the body. Someone smoked a lot around this thing! Eww. Pretty much all the mess came off with vinegar and a cloth, which means that it probably wouldn’t have been there at all if someone had just run a cloth over the guitar from time to time. Or once a week. Or once in a while.
I took the strings off and then cleaned off the fretboard with orange oil and a cloth. It wasn’t really that nasty.1
There was an interesting collection of screws holding the pickguard on. I think two of them even match. I’m always amazed at how often people manage to lose screws and bolts and things while taking them off and putting them on.2
I got the pickguard off, and got a HUGE whiff of smoke. And I thought. They smelled bad. On the outside.
It became pretty obvious that this was not the original pickguard for this guitar, because there were a lot of holes in the body from whatever other pickguard used to be there.
At this point, I started referring to whoever worked on the guitar before as “Festus.”
I THINK that Festus took the original bridge pickup (or some other one) and put it in the neck position. The original leads on that pickup are about 2″ long, so he added a couple pieces of wire to it, using the worst soldering job in human history.3
The middle pickup might have been original. The magnet underneath it has some rust. Having seen the rest of the wiring, I had a theory on how that happened, but there was no discernible scent of urine, so that theory is probably incorrect.
The bridge pickup is a retrofit, obviously. It’s an Epiphone humbucker that was cut out of another guitar by a meatneck, so its pickup leads are about 1″ long. I wish people wouldn’t do this. Anyway, Festus connected it to some other wire, and it looked like he learned something from the neck pickup, because it was only the second-worst soldering job in human history.
There are a lot of ways to wire up a guitar. I’ve fixed some guitars on which it became obvious that the guitar was wired up one way, and then someone tried to add something based on a different wiring scheme. I may have even done that myself. Only once though. Really.
Sometimes it’s fun–or even educational–to try to figure out what wiring scheme was being used, and where it went wrong, and sometimes that’s like running a cheese grater over your brain.
In this case, all the pickup leads went into what appeared to be the last desperate act of a madman on fire.
My best guess is that the guy just kept connecting and disconnecting wires randomly until he got some output, and then soldered things where they were. There were a couple of wires that just came off the pots and don’t connect to anything, random grounding and stuff on wrong legs of pots. The end result was that the volume and tone knobs didn’t do anything, and only two positions on the five-way switch actually made any sound.
But despite the randomness, all the leftover wires were very neatly gathered up and bundled with a zip tie. It didn’t work, but it looked good. Just like me.
The action on the guitar was high, but not too bad. The frets had very little wear, though they felt very soft. The neck had just about the amount of relief in it I like, and no twists. The nut was awful.
When I took off the strings, the bridge went right back flat against the body and sat level. That meant I should be able to make it just stay there when I set the guitar up later. As long as you don’t want to use the trem (YOU DON’T ON THIS GUITAR), that makes life easy.
Fixes Part 1 — Pickups
Because John is cheap and lazy (he LOVES when I say that), I was just going to get this thing going with the same pickups that were in it.
I re-did the solder joins on the pickup leads and taped them off, so that they wouldn’t ground off on something when I put the thing back together. After the guitar was back together and hooked up, that Epiphone pickup sounded ridiculously good, particularly in combination with the middle pickup. And the other two pickups sounded just awful.
UPDATE: I found a crazy deal on some Fender Vintage Noiseless pickups. I really like those things. I put them in the middle and bridge, and now the guitar sounds great in every position. It’s kind of annoying how good it sounds.
Fixes Part 2 –Electronics
I knew I was going to take the electronics right down and re-do them, partly because it’s good practice, partly because all the existing parts were cheap and nasty, and partly because trying to figure out what Festus was trying to do–or what he ended up doing–would be flirting with madness.
He’d used 500K pots on a guitar that’s mostly cheap single coils and high-end squealiness. That’s not the best idea. If there was any thinking behind this, it was probably that 500K pots are usually used with humbuckers, and he had put the humbucker in the bridge. Regardless, it was a bad fit. I had some pots that I had metered, and came out in the high 200 to 300K range, so I used those. There is space here to mention whatever famous guitar hero you want who uses 300K pots. Go ahead, the rest of us will wait.
Got that out of your system? Awesome.
I wired it up in a pretty standard Strat configuration (volume, two tones, five-way switch) with the new pots and new wire.
UPDATE: Even with the new electronics, this thing was really noisy. That probably had a lot to do with the original pickups.
Also, John has some freaky X-men static buildup ability. I am not making this up. The second finger on his picking hand hits the guitar quite often, just below the middle pickup. Every once in a while, there is an audible “pop” when it does. I’ve seen this happen with him on a bunch of different guitars, which have been worked on by different people. It’s weird as hell. John bought some aluminum tape and stuck a piece on the guitar where his finger hits. That worked really well at making the end of his finger turn black.
I ended up lining the cavity and the underside of the pickguard with aluminum tape, connected to the ground, and the problem went away. It stayed away after we put in the Fender Noiseless pickups as well.
Fixes Part 3 – Setup and whatnot
There were three springs in the back of the trem. I just screwed the claw in as far as it would go, and that was enough to hold the bridge flush to the body. You can whack the low E, bend whatever strings you want, and not hear any movement.
The frets on this guitar were in OK shape for the kind of action John likes. I don’t think they will last very long, though. The nut is pretty awful: No real radius to the cuts, and very high. John plays a lot of acoustic, and he’s fine with higher action and more neck relief than I am, so his preferences worked nicely within the limited options this thing has for action. I just set it up as low as I thought I could and set the intonation. I think John has moved the action back up a bit.
It sounds great, plays in tune and he loves playing it. That means it’s set up right, as far as I’m concerned.
Aesthetically, it’s the kind of mutt I just love. Crappy-looking cheap pickguard with a chunk of aluminum tape on it, two different colors of pickups, mismatched screws, ugly, ugly wood on the neck. A player.
John couldn’t live with “F*ck*r” written on the headstock, so he took that off with some alcohol. You can see the faint outline of the original “Behringer” label. And now he calls the guitar “Festus”
1) Musicians are generally disgusting. Clean things before you work on them. Better yet, tell people to clean them before they bring them to you, and THEN clean them. It took one experience of picking up a stringless neck in a basement and not being able to get the smell off my hands for a couple of days to get me into this habit. Learn from my disgusting mistake!
I always start with the weakest possible cleaners and work up. You usually want something astringent, because most guitar grossness is either oily or sticky. Just plain white vinegar works on pretty much any guitar finish, and rubbing alcohol is USUALLY (test it!) OK as well. I use citrus-oil-based cleaners on open-grain or unfinished stuff, but again, test first. I use old cloths that I don’t mind throwing out or recycling. Have lots of these. Paper towels are a bad choice for cleaning guitars.
2) If you’re going to work on ANYTHING with small bits like screws, wires, nipples, or electronic parts, make sure you have a bunch of containers for things.4 “Containers” are things with a bottom, sides and a top. You can put things in a container and pick them all up at once. You can use empty pill vials, or little bowls, or little boxes or envelopes or whatever
An Altoids tin in an example of a container. An area on a table that you are pretty sure you will remember is not a container.
As you remove each piece, put it in a container, and then label the container. Label everything no matter what.
3)If you do not know how to solder, you should learn. And if you learn, you should learn to do it well. Seriously, this is a cheap and easy skill. It’s like knowing how to change a tire or stop a tap from dripping: You don’t HAVE to do it yourself, but it will probably save you inconvenience and maybe money, and you will know if whoever you pay to do it does a good job.
4)I freely admit that the use of the word “nipples” was gratuitous.
I’ve always believed two rules about bands and pedals:
Any group of three or more musicians with a decent amount of talent and commitment can write at least ONE good song
Any pedal has ONE usable sound in it. It might only be usable in the most limited context, but you can always find ONE thing a pedal is good at
Just as the Doors were the exception that proved the first rule, the Ibanez LA Metal pedal was the exception that proved the second. In its stock form, this pedal absolutely defies all attempts to make it sound better when on than when off. It is fantastically, mind-blowingly useless.
I have some pedals that are INCREDIBLY BAD–the DOD FX-17 Wah-volume, a Yamaha CP-100 compressor, an Arion Stage Tuner–and I have used several others, but nothing compares to the almost exquisite frustration of trying to get ANYTHING good to happen with a stock LA Metal pedal. It’s not even usefully horrible.
The Pedal – Ibanez LM7 LA Metal
This pedal has three knobs:
Distortion – How much crappy fizz-bark you want to hear instead of notes
Tone – Whether the crappy fizz-bark should be dull or piercing
Level – How loud you want your crappy fizz-bark
The stock LA Metal pedal has three things going for it:
It is in a bad-ass looking matte silver case
It says “LA METAL” on it in big thick letters
It’s actually a dumbed-down version of a much better pedal
The first two things make you want to have this thing in your board just so people will understand how damn cool you are (answer: As cool as LA METAL, fool!). The third one makes the pedal extremely useful.
The LM7 was built by Maxon, who built a lot of stuff for Ibanez at the time. Maxon also made a pedal for Ibanez called the “Fat Cat.” The Fat Cat was kind of a cover version of the ProCo Rat pedal. All they did to make the LA Metal pedal was remove the clipping diodes from the Fat Cat and move a few capacitors around. They even used the Fat Cat PC board to make the LA Metal. If you open up an LA Metal, you’ll see that the board is marked “FC-10.”
Yes! I am telling you that someone built a distortion pedal with NO CLIPPING DIODES. Or MOSFETS. Or anything like that. It’s just the sound of an op-amp being overdriven! YUMMY!
Why would someone do that? My only guess is that they were sitting in a room full of open containers of solvents, doing some deep breathing and listening to RATT on a Walkman that was turned up way too loud, and they fell in love with the sound. Then they married a canned ham. So curvy…
Anyway, with a few fairly easy mods, you can add some clipping diodes to the LA METAL (screw it–I’m writing it in all-caps from here on), swap around some caps, and end up with what is now my favorite crunchy overdrive pedal.
The main info on this mod is from this very useful thread, which has a nice summary of other threads/mods in it. Look for the post from Analogguru time-stamped “18 Dec 2007, 19:42” He runs down all the mods you need to do in order to convert the LA METAL to a Fat Cat.
I didn’t go all the way on this. I left the tone capacitor (C20) alone, to see if it would be useful as it is.
The end result is just a remarkably useful overdrive, with a wide range of tones available.
The Distortion knob now covers everything from nearly-clean gain through light overdrive through heavier and heavier to almost out-of-control fuzz at the far end.
The tone control is of MOST use between 10 and 2 o’clock. I could see changing the cap to use more of the knob’s range and get more fine control.
The pedal gets louder as you turn up the Distortion, so the Level control is mostly used to set the pedal’s output to where you want it relative to when the pedal is off.
This is now my go-to overdrive, which is shocking when you consider how crap the stock version is. It’s particularly good if you like snarly crunch tones, which I much prefer to smooth, compressed kinds of tones. If you watch late-night talk shows filmed in LA, and you like how the guitar in the band sounds, or if your guitar only has one cutaway, this might not be the pedal for you.
I like the snarl, and I like the ampy-ness of the pedal. It’s quite responsive to picking dynamics and pickup/tone/volume changes. Also, having an LA METAL pedal on my board makes it easy for people to recognize just how cool I am, which has sometimes been a challenge since I thinned out my poodle cut and started wearing looser pants.
The boxes in the Ibanez 7 (10?) series are an odd compromise. The cases themselves are super-solid metal, with which you could easily knock a larger man unconscious. The battery access is excellent, through the nice big, square, spring-loaded footswitch. And the switch itself is just kind of OK. The switching feels solid under your foot, but the stompin’ area feels breakable.
I usually use this pedal in a true-bypass loop, so I don’t notice if there is any leakage when the pedal is off, and I don’t use the switch much. I think the average user would be happier doing things this way.
I just acquired a second LA METAL pedal a couple of days ago, and I’m going to fiddle with diode combinations on the new one. I might also put in a socket and mess with op-amp options.
If I can just give the world the perfect LA METAL pedal, I will know I have not lived in vain.
The BBE AM64 is a distortion pedal for guitar. Yep.
I love overdrive pedals, particularly medium-gain ones, that let you control the amount of crunch with your picking or the volume knob/pdeal.
I love fuzz pedals, particularly the insanely gain-y ones where you hit the button and hold on for dear life.
I’ve never been a fan of distortion-distortion pedals, because they’ve always seemed like a kind of boring middle ground. Like the porridge that Goldilocks chose, and we all know that she just played the same damn pentatonic licks over and over until the bears ate her or whatever. Not sure on that–I didn’t read the book, because I knew it would just spoil the movie.
Anyway, what? Oh, yes–distortion pedals. Right. They have no real sensitivity to them, but they are also not crazy. That seemed pretty boring.
I just didn’t get it at all until I had to switch quickly between singing and playing guitar parts and soloing in the same song. Then I understood the value of just pushing a button and automatically getting That One Sound for Just This Bit of the Song.
Which brings us to…
The Pedal – BBE AM64
I happened upon this wonderfully cheap example of just how well production pedals CAN be made, did a bit of reading up, and it seemed really dumb not to get it. I think these things sold for well under $100 in their heyday, and then ended up getting cleared out at something like $30 a year or two ago.
For that, you got:
A metal box (with a heavy plastic bottom, which is quite solid).
Mechanical true-bypass switching, using one of them blue 3pdt switches just like the big kids use.
Box film capacitors. Really.
Full-sized Alpha pots. Really.
Cleanly made board with all human-fixable (no SMC) parts.
This is a long way from sucking. It’s really how everyone should be doing it, PARTICULARLY folks who charge more than $30 for pedals.
The pedal has three knobs:
Level is the output level
Tone is the tone control
Gain is how much crunch you get
There is no useful clean setting on the stock pedal. If you turn the gain all the way down, and the level all the way up, you’ll end up quieter with the pedal on than with it off. With the gain up at all, you start to clip. Yep, it’s a distortion pedal, and that’s what you’d expect it to do.
The circuit is based around a TL072 op-amp, and uses a pair of LEDs for clipping. Sometimes I like LEDs for clipping–I’ve used them in a couple of other mods I have done–but in this case, the result was pretty fizzly. I tried the pedal with a few guitars, and found:
It’s kind of OK with humbuckers, but I don’t use them much
On a Strat with regular passive pickups, it’s meh. Works fine on the bridge pickup, if you really jack up the gain on the pedal, but almost everything can do that trick. Boring in other positions, and notes fizz as they decay.
Surprisingly good on my Tele-ish guitar. It’s got a P90 in the neck, and got along pretty well with this pedal
Quite unpleasant with my Strat with Lace Sensors. No sir, I did not like it. The fizziness was really pronounced, and there was nowhere to set the tone on the pedal that wasn’t either a cloud of low mid or a piece of piano wire in your eye.
I did about the simplest thing I could do: I swapped one of the clipping LEDs for a 1n4148.
That seems to have sorted things out nicely. The disto is now thicker and finer-grained, which lets the notes have more body and the sustain makes more sense.
i figured that this would be a good first step. This pedal is a good candidate for putting in a socket and some switches and trying out a bunch of op-amp and diode combos. It might also benefit from some messing with the tone stack, as the stock set up has too much range. There are simply too many places you can turn the tone knob that sound awful.
But for now, this one change has made it a fine punch-it-and-go pedal for all those times you just can’t say with flowers.
Overall, this might be the best platform for distortion modding , because the base pedal is very well-made, most of the parts you’d want are already in the pedal, and the stock configuration sounds far worse than it should. I’d certainly pick up another one or two if I got them at the same price.
A friend of mine got a really great deal on an amp. It’s a Traynor YCV40, of which I am a big fan. In fact, I have a Traynor YCV40WR, and I love it.
The YCV40 is a 40 watt tube combo amp with a single 12″ speaker. Like a lot of combos, the amp brain is mounted “upside-down” at the top of the cabinet, with the tubes pointing down and the controls at the top rear of the box. The front of the amp is rounded slightly, which means the speaker points up a bit, which means it projects sound a bit higher, and that is useful. It also means that the top of the amp is NOT flat.
This amp was used, but it seemed in pretty good shape. The speaker is fine, the amp sounds great, all appeared to be well. My friend had the amp for a little while, and we noticed that the channel switch on the top of the amp was pretty sticky. It was obvious that someone had spilled something on the amp, and some of the something had run into that switch. It was hard to change channels with the switch on the amp, though the remote foot-switch works just fine. There was also some rust under the paint on the top of the amp brain.
Then the carry-strap on the top broke. I said “No problem! I’ll fix that for you.”
I tried to unscrew the handle. It became clear that whoever owned the amp before had indeed spilled something on the amp–my best guess is that it was an entire beer. He had probably tried to sit it on top of the amp, probably with the bottom against the strap, which is in the middle, right where the channel switch is, it had fallen over and dumped all over the amp. And then he had just left it.
There’s no sign that anything was done to try to clean or dry the amp. Maybe the top was wiped off.
The liquid had run into the handle, and along the top of the amp brain itself. The bolts holding the strap in place had rusted, and then had come loose, and someone had stripped them by trying to tighten them and/or remove them with the wrong screwdriver head. Then they had been left a bit loose, so the strap, which was rusting, worked back and forth against the threads every time he picked the amp up, and eventually wore away. It had broken on one side, and he had driven a screw into that side of the handle. And finally the whole thing had given up, and the amp had been dropped when the handle broke. After that, the channel switch on the top of the amp had given up completely, so you can only switch channels with a footpedal.
The bolts were far to stripped to get out any other way, so I had to use a tapping screw puller. And both of the bolts broke off halfway with very little pressure. I am not a strong man. In fact, I am widely known for my utterly laughable physique. Those bolts were rusted all to ratshit.
I ordered a replacement strap from Direct Pro Audio here in Omaha. It cost five dollars for the strap handle (which is steel sandwiched with vinyl) AND both of the shiny metal mounts that hold it on. Yes! Original parts, from the manufacturer, reasonably priced–ANOTHER reason why I like Traynor.
I took the back plank off the amp, took out the bolts that hold the brain in place, along with the RCA jacks to the reverb and the plug for the speaker, and pulled out the brain. I opened it up and checked to see if there was any other damage inside, and I was pretty sure there would be. Nope. Traynor had done a good job of designing the amp so that the top is pretty well-sealed. Apart from the little opening around the switch, there was nowhere for the liquid to go in.
The top of the brain was covered with rusty gunk though, and all the bolts in the top of the brain were rusted. I cleaned the top of the brain, then took out all the rusty bolts, cleaned them off, put them back in, and then wiped all the rusty gunk off the top of the amp brain again.
And there were a couple of very dead beetles inside the brain. Very dead, very dry beetles. By the time I found those, I was starting to really dislike the old owner.
I measured for what I would need, and bought a couple of T-nuts and new bolts. Traynor had done a nice tidy job of putting the mounting hardware under the Tolex covering, so I would have to lift that off to replace them. Sometimes that can be a pain, because the tolex is glued down so hard that it tears. That wasn’t the case though, because this dude had spilled so much liquid in there and left it that when I picked up a corner of the Tolex, it all just popped off. What luck.
Underneath, the surface of the wood was a disgusting mess of rot and mold. The beer had to go somewhere, and where went was into the wood. The bolts and nuts were rusted into a single piece, which had rusted to the plywood as well. When I tried to take out the T-nuts, a whole bunch of the top two plies of wood came out as well. I took the picture above so that you can share the beauty.
The rest of the wood is solid–luckily, Traynor uses good-quality plywood to build their cabs. If this had been MDF, like a lot of amps, the cabinet would have been a write-off. I cleaned stuff up a bit, put in the new T-nuts, mounted the strap and bolted it on, and then glued the Tolex back down with some spray adhesive–You know, like in the Blues Brothers. Strong stuff.
The amp works and sounds great, and the handle is solid as new, but I’ve got replacement channel switches on order (~$2 each for factory replacements! YAY TRAYNOR), and then I’ll open up the brain and replace the channel switch on the PCB.
All because of one beer.
There’s a moral to this story, and it’s s simple one: Kids, PLEASE don’t be like this guy–give your gear some basic care and attention.
A small thing, like trying to sit a beer on an amp that is NOT FLAT ON TOP can lead to a small problem, like spilling a drink on your amp, and if you do nothing, that can lead to big problems, like rusting and rotting an otherwise perfectly good amp. It takes five minutes to get this amp apart and dry it out. You don’t need anything more complex than a Phillips screwdriver and a towel to do the job, and you don’t need any more brains than it takes to vacuum under the floormats of your car.
Should you ever need to repair a Seymour Duncan Tweak Fuzz, you will probably find this schematic.
It is largely accurate, and I am always grateful to anyone who takes the time to make such things available. But there is one correction you should know about:
P2 (the Gain potentiometer) is a 2KC. That is, a 2K pot with a REVERSE AUDIO taper. At the time of writing, the only manufacturer for this part appears to Alpha, and this part is only available from Mouser in North America. Here is a link to the exact part.
I’m going to say Seymour Duncan Tweak Fuzz one more time. For the search engines.
Holy crap! It’s a true-bypass effects loop, with a wacky twist!
I use bypass loop pedals all the time in my pedalboard. I have two double loops made by Loooper which are just great–he does excellent and tidy work. If you don’t want to build your own stuff, I highly recommend getting one made by Loooper.
I wanted to build one of my own, and added a wrinkle I had seen before and wanted. On this box, Pedal 2 is the loop switch. Pedal 1 feeds some of the output of the loop back to the input of the loop. The big ugly knob controls how much output is fed back.
I’m not the first–or even the 100th–to make a pedal like this. I used a schematic from the excellent Beavis Audio site, to which I would link, but the dude who runs it let the domain expire. Today. This is an excellent resource for DIY stuff, and I’m going to donate to help keep the thing up. You can find similar schematics all over the Web, but this one was extremely clear and well-drawn.
This is a very simple circuit–all it does is route your guitar signal one way or another, not actually create any effect–but bypass loops are extremely useful. It’s also the first pedal I have built from scratch. I’ve fixed lots of things, and built the odd channel switch and whatnot, but not really tried building anything audio passes through from the get-go.
There are several reasons why this one worked out so well:
I went PAINFULLY slowly, measuring, cutting, cleaning up, and continuity testing after every step. I don’t want to be this slow forever, so the more I learn with each build, the better. I don’t mind learning from mistakes, but avoiding them is even better.
I built it in my lovely prototype box, which as you can see is an old Vox channel switching pedal. What you can’t see is that this box has about 10 holes drilled in it from various prototyping things I have done previously. Putting this in a box I ultimately didn’t want to use pretty much ensured the pedal would work perfectly.
After I had drilled the hole for the LED, I decided to change the switch positions around. And that is why you can’t see the LED. It works, but it’s still inside the box. Very proud of that. Yep.
I planned to get the circuit working, and then move it into a nicer enclosure, but I have a fondness for good things that look bad, so it might end up staying where it is.
Here’s what I learned from this build, which might be useful to anyone else who is starting out building or repairing circuits like this:
You will be much happier if you have lots of different colours of wire. Really. You won’t remember which bit of wire is which the moment you close the box, so if you have to troubleshoot a mess of say, white wire, you will hate life.
Really get to know the circuit. Figure out how you want to do the build BEFORE you start melting any lead.
Look for points where multiple bits of wire need to connect to the same place. Figure out ways to do that as neatly as possible BEFORE you melt any lead.
Lay out all your components, measure where they should go. Make sure that there is room to actually fit all the components in your enclosure, that nothing touches that shouldn’t, and there is room for the jacks to fit into the plugs without wrecking anything.
Drill and test-mount EVERYTHING before you start melting any lead.
Label your jacks! I just wrote what they did (in, out, send, return) beside them in pencil inside the case. This WILL save you time. Make sure you turn the box over, so that you are looking at it the same way you will be using it when you label things.
Go through and tin all your components. If you don’t know what that means, look it up.
Measure your wire. Measure it again. Then cut it, then tin it.
Soldering should be the fast part of the job. By the time you actually start melting lead, all your thinking should be done.
If you are using a switch with lots of poles, plan the order in which you are going to connect things, so you don’t end up getting in your own way. You will probably want to connect the inside poles first.
If you are using a two-part box like this one (Bonus hint: Don’t use a two-part box like this one), you might need to leave the wires a bit long so that you can put the box back together without ripping any connections out. It’s OK to go back later and shorten/redo the wires later, but start with them long so that you can get the thing working and check the circuit without wondering if you broke it by building it.
Make really sure you know what side you want the LED on. I mean, what kind of IDIOT doesn’t do that?
I tested this with my beloved DOD Phasor 490. With the feedback knob set just right, it made a completely excellent whooping noise, which is pretty much unusable in any context in which I currently play.
I am going to save you some money here, because I know you are all trying to get that Geddy tone.
I own an Ashly SC-40 preamp. This is the pre that Geddy Lee used for many years. It’s not Ashly’s bass-specific preamp (that was the BP-41), but a very good piece of kit that works quite well for many instruments. A lot of people also like the SC-40 for bass, and I am one of those people. It is a nice contrast to my expensive tube preamp that would totally impress you if I told you what it was, but I don’t want you rushing over here tearing at your clothes in a fit of mad lust, so I will not mention it any further.
I also use the SC-40 for my bouzouki, and whatever else might need preampin’ It’s got lots of handy features, a transformer-isolated direct out, and very reassuring-looking knobs.
This is a fairly old piece. It needed a good cleaning, and was kinda barky for bass when I bought it used. Great for snarly rawk tones, but with a definite hump in the high mids and a tendency to sound like it was working too hard.
I spent a whopping $22 and replaced the op-amps inside the thing (swapped the RC4558 chips for OPA2134). The new op-amps are cleaner, with more lows, highs, headroom and a broad, tanned, trustworthy forehead. It was a good move, and the thing sounds much, much better–for bass and everything else.
At some point, I should also replace all the capacitors. But that is like, actual work…
If you read boring bass blather sites on the Internets a lot, you will eventually come across the mystical secret to the Geddy tone–on the amp side, at least. This actually not much of a mystery–it was just a hookup mentioned in the SC-40 manual. Yep, I RTFM. You take a pair of 1N914 diodes, wire them in parallel but backwards to each other, and run them between the tip and sleeve of a 1/4″ plug, which you then put into the effects send jack. According to the manual, this will create “smooth distortion.”
Now, as anyone who subscribes to “Tiresome Pedal Nerd” magazine (or goes to their many sites online) can tell you, the 1N914 is the diode used in the clipping section of the original Tube Screamer. It’s used for clipping/overdrive in a lot of other pedals as well. When it comes to smooth clipping of guitar tones, this should be, as the kids said a while back, “the shizz.”
What you see in this picture is a phono jack with a pair of 1N914s wired in opposed parallel. I plugged one end of a cable into it, and the other end of the cable into the effects send on my great-sounding SC-40. And it appeared that nothing happened.
Then I realised that (of course!) I would only get clipping/overdrive/distortion if I turned that shizz up! So I whacked the gain way up, and the red light started to come on, and I have to tell you, I could not believe the difference in tone!
It sounded like total ass.
So what I am saying here is don’t bother doing this.
The question remains whether the change in the op-amps had any effect on this. See, as anyone who reads “I am Dragging This Out Too Long” (or watches me do that online) knows, the mighty Tube Screamer used JRC4558 op-amps in its original design. So is the smooth distortion effect a product of both components? Did I clean up the op-amps and ruin my chance at smooth distortion? Should I put the old op-amps in and test that?