Which is all well and good — unless you have really bad dreams!

Does this guitar LOOK like it has over a hundred settings?

Just a quick follow-up on the Pagey project, which first recreated the original Jimmy Page wiring scheme, and then explored an even  more extreme version using Seymour Duncan Triple Shot Mounting Rings.

Once I’d finished the project, I [...]]]>

Does this guitar LOOK like it has over a hundred settings?

Just a quick follow-up on the Pagey project, which first recreated the original Jimmy Page wiring scheme, and then explored an even  more extreme version using Seymour Duncan Triple Shot Mounting Rings.

Once I’d finished the project, I had to decide whether to keep the guitar heavily modded, or revert to something simpler. It probably won’t surprise you to hear I decided to keep the extreme Phase 2 wiring, with its added germanium overdrive.

But as cool as the Duncan ’59 model pickups sounded, I wanted to revisit the Duncan Seth Lover pickups I’d previously had in the guitar. They’re bright — twangy, even — compared to the ’59s, and I like the midrange honk they add by virtue of being unpotted. (I’ve written about the pros and cons of potting here.)

I’ve recorded an example of how the guitar sounds with the Seth Lovers. (You can’t make exact comparisons with the previous Pagey videos, since I used an amp for those, while the new examples were recorded through an amp simulator, though the “Seth” character still shines through.) I’ve included the clip in the post after/above this one, because it’s my first audio example using SoundCloud, and I wanted to say a few words about that.

"There's GOLD in that thar pickup!"

And call me shallow, but…I really dig the way my guitar looks with the Seth Lovers installed. Between the teensy switches on the mounting rings and the push/pull pots, you really have to look hard to tell the guitar is not merely non-stock — it’s a morbidly overdeveloped tweak machine.

Funny — I’ve always found gold hardware a little bit tacky. But now I’m so enthusiastic about the look of gold that I feel like this guy at the right.

I haz a band.

My ol’ pals at Guitar Player magazine interviewed me for an instructional article on looping for next month’s issue. It was especially flattering to be invited, because the interviewer was Barry Cleveland, a fine guitarist and a leading figure in the looping community.

I put [...]]]>

I haz a band.

My ol’ pals at Guitar Player magazine interviewed me for an instructional article on looping for next month’s issue. It was especially flattering to be invited, because the interviewer was Barry Cleveland, a fine guitarist and a leading figure in the looping community.

I put together this little video to demo the digital rig I use onstage with my duo band, Mental 99, and I’ve cross-posted it here. It covers software, hardware loopers, looping techniques, and the like. Have a listen.

Out of curiosity, how many folks out there dabble in digital guitar? Analog and digital have collided on this blog since the very first post, the now-notorious “Amps vs. Models” listening contest. (You can still take the test by clicking on the link, but the prizes have long since been awarded. One of hundreds of participants, only three players managed a perfect score. And had I not created the test, I would definitely not have made it to the winner’s circle.)

More specifically, is anyone interested in the process of creating digital tones? Back when this blog started, MainStage, my main performance software, was included as a secondary program with the $500 Logic Studio package. But now Apple sells it separately for a ridiculously cheap $29.99. (Of course, you need a Mac computer to run it.) I’ve worked a lot as a Logic/MainStage/GarageBand developer, and I love geeking out over the programs. Does anyone else? (Don’t worry — the soldering iron won’t stay cool for long. It’s just that there are vast constellations of sounds you just can’t access via analog.)

Just how many colors can you coax from one guitar?

This post is about a guitar wiring scheme that only geeks and tweakers could love.

I think you’ll dig it. 

In Phase 1 of this project, I recreated the original Page wiring scheme using an ’82 Paul, a pair [...]]]>

Just how many colors can you coax from one guitar?

This post is about a guitar wiring scheme that only geeks and tweakers could love.

I think you’ll dig it. 

In Phase 1 of this project, I recreated the original Page wiring scheme using an ’82 Paul, a pair of Duncan ’59 model pickups, and four push-pull pots. The result was a great-sounding, almost absurdly versatile guitar, though the sheer number of options was downright bewildering.

So naturally, the only way forward was to make the instrument even more bewildering by adding additional sonic options. This version offers all the sound of the Phase 1 model, and a buttload more. Several buttloads, actually — and I’m not talking about those skimpy metric buttloads!

I gutted all the Phase 1 electronics. (Man, that hurt!) Next, using the same pickups, I added a pair of Duncan Triple Shot Mounting Rings. These provide four settings per pickup: humbucker, inner coil split, outer coil split, and both coils in parallel. (The Phase 1 plan offers only one split-coil setting per pickups. While you can configure the two pickups in parallel, you can’t do so with the individual coils in each pickup like you can here in Phase 2.) Here’s the wiring diagram I worked from.

Since the Triple Shots add four new switches, the Phase 2 wiring requires only two push/pull pots. I wan’t about to let that real estate go unused! I installed a homemade germanium overdrive circuit (similar to the one we made in DIY Club) inside the guitar. My third push/pull pot activates it, and the fourth selects between two input caps, so I get a choice between a fat, Sabbath-style drive and a brighter, thinner Bluesbreakers-type tone.

Check out the demo video:

At some point I said I’d perform the Phase  2 surgery with a pair of Duncan P-Rails, which, unlike the ’59s, were specifically engineered for coil-splitting. with one coil yielding a Fender-type single-coil sound, and the other mimicking a P-90. And I did try that — and simply didn’t like it as much as the results I got with the ’59s.

Don’t get me wrong — the P-Rails are cool pickups, and I love how they worked for me in this post. But on this particular guitar, the retro flavor of the ’59s just moved me more. (And as I mentioned out in Part 1, I’m blown away by how great the ’59s sound in split-coil mode.) The only disadvantage of the ’59s is that there’s less contrast between the split-coil sounds within each pickup. Still, I hear plenty of difference between the two bridge-pickup coils. And while the two neck-pickup coils sound similar when heard solo, switching between them brings out cool  shadings in blended settings, especially the out-of-phase ones. So I’m cool with the compromise. :)

One of my tone controls doubles as an input capacitor switch for the built-in germanium overdrive. A 683 capacitor provides a fat, Sabbath-style tone, while a smaller 103 does the edgy, treble-booster thing. The third cap on the side is the usual 473 for tone control..

A few words about the onboard booster: If you’ve built the Fiendmaster project from DIY Club, you’ve probably noticed that it fits on a tiny piece of perfboard. It was easy to fit the circuit and a 9-volt battery inside the Paul’s control cavity — a lot easier than cramming it into a standard Strat-type guitar!

I replaced the guitar’s mono input jack with a stereo jack, and connected the battery’s negative terminal to the jack’s middle lug so there’s no current draw when the guitar is unplugged. (And FWIW, a simple boost circuit like that, with no power-indicator LED, runs for months and months on a single battery.) I omitted the input capacitor from the perfboard, but wired two different input caps to one of the vacant push/pull switches, as shown in the photo. Works great! (You could use the same technique to switch between two different tone-pot cap values — a sort of minimalist Vari-Tone.)

Man, I learned so much from this process! I’m now a total convert to split-coil humbuckers, and I’m becoming addicted to the out-of-phase sounds as well. The in-series sounds, both per pickup and between the two pickups, thrill me less, though I hear a few cool tones, and perhaps they’ll be perfect in some musical contexts.

But that’s the coolest thing about this exercise: You can pick and choose whichever aspects you dig the most. For example, I’d be totally stoked to play a dual-humbucker guitar with, say, two volume controls and one tone control, with coil splits and a phase switch accessible via three push/pull pots.

So: Can anyone who’s not a math dope like me calculate the number of available settings for the Phase 1 and Phase 2 projects? (Not counting the variations you get by adjusting relative pick balances, tone controls, or overdrive circuit — just the basic pickup combinations.)

Looks like a pot — but it's not!

In the comments on my post on the Mongrel Strat with the Obsessive-Compulsive Tone Control, reader Dave mentioned a related product: The Stellartone ToneStyler. I ordered one and popped in into my dual-humbucker Hamer 20th Anniversary guitar (which still boasts [...]]]>

Looks like a pot — but it's not!

In the comments on my post on the Mongrel Strat with the Obsessive-Compulsive Tone Control, reader Dave mentioned a related product: The Stellartone ToneStyler. I ordered one and popped in into my dual-humbucker Hamer 20th Anniversary guitar (which still boasts the Seymour Duncan Joe Bonamassa pickup set I demoed here.)

(Quick memory refresher: The Vari-Tone appeared in several historic Gibson guitars, notably the ES-345. It uses a half-dozen different-sized capacitors to alter the voicing of the tone pot. It also adds an inductor, which preserves lows while the capacitors remove highs. Result: the rolled-off settings have a somewhat piercing, nasal character, as opposed to the usual dark, wooly sound of a rolled-off tone pot.)

Like some cool DIY versions of the project, the ToneStyler omits the inductor. And while it looks like a conventional tone pot,it’s actually a 16-position switch that selects between stepped capacitors, all of them smaller than in a conventional tone control. Result: rolled-off tones that maintain more volume and impact than in a conventional tone control.

Have a listen:

First, a short repeated phrase, with the tone control lowered a few notches between each repetition:

Next, a comparison of the wide-open, half-way-down, and all-the-way-down settings with a clean tone:

Hamer Clean, Original Pot

Hamer Clean, ToneStyler

And finally, a comparison of the wide-open, half-way down, and all-the-way down settings with a crunch tone:

Hamer Crunch, Original Pot

Hamer Crunch, ToneStyler

You can make a similar control with a rotary pot and a bunch of caps. It's ugly but effective.

Some thoughts: I really dig the ToneStyler. US$109 may be a steep for a tone control, but for many players — especially ones who tend not to use their tone controls much — it will unlock enough new tones to justify the price. It doesn’t sound any better than the DIY versions, but if you don’t feel up to a messy soldering project, or don’t want to try to cram a big, messy rotary pot inside your guitar, it’s a great solution. The construction seems bullet-proof, and installation was a snap.

I tried the ToneStyler in both my tele-inspired Trussart Steelcaster and in the Hamer, and definitely preferred it with the Hamer’s Bonamassa humbuckers. I ordered the STD version, which maxes out with a .022uF cap, so the all-the-way-down position is significantly brighter than the same setting on a regular tone circuit with the standard .047uF cap. Since I often use that dark sound for EBow playing, next time I’d order Stellartone’s Jazz Model, whose maximum setting is .047uF. I’d also consider the model without a notch for each cap position. (These detentes are great for recalling a specific sound, but they make it more awkward to sweep quickly from minimum to maximum settings.)

Regarding the inductor, and lack thereof: After much experimentation with DIY Vari-Tones with and without inductors, my personal take is that a) the inductor is cool, but b) it’s not all that. (In Mongrel Strat #3, I even added a switchable inductor.) The inductor heightens the nasal, notched-wah quality of the effect, but I’d say you get about 80% of the action without one.

If you’re the sort of player who avoids using tone controls because everything other than wide-open sounds dull to you, you should definitely investigate this gizmo (or its DIY variants). Chances are you’ll develop a whole new attitude about that under-exploited control.

FYI, you can learn the basics of capacitors and tone controls from this post.

Hey kids! You're never too young to mod your guitars! Now get off my lawn.

As promised, here are a demo video and tech notes for the first phase of the Pagey Project, which recreates Jimmy Page’s original Les Paul wiring scheme. (The upcoming Phase Two will expand on the idea [...]]]>

Hey kids! You're never too young to mod your guitars!
Now get off my lawn.

As promised, here are a demo video and tech notes for the first phase of the Pagey Project, which recreates Jimmy Page’s original Les Paul wiring scheme. (The upcoming Phase Two will expand on the idea with even more crazy options.)

All I can say is, sheesh! Why did it take me decades to try out this awesome Les Paul mod?

I think it’s because I had a nasty dual-humbucker guitar many years ago with series and coil-split switches. Even though I knew the pickups were crap, it still prejudiced me against alternate humbucker wirings. “Just pick up a Fender!” I’d think.

Another factor: I lacked the sophistication to know that, while many of the tones unlocked by the Pagey wiring sound thin and/or weird on their own, they can be quite useful in context.

And make no mistake — except for the series switch, all the alternate Page sounds are smaller than stock Les Paul sounds. And that’s a good thing! They’re great for crystalline clean tones, ratty faux-P-90 distortion, and simply making the regular Les Paul sounds seem gigantic by contrast.

Have a listen. There video starts with a 90-second overview, then works through the system in detail:

Some pics and observations from the installation process:

At the recommendation of Scott Miller, one of Seymour Duncan’s wiring geniuses, I used a pair of ’59 Model pickups for the project. I worked from the schematic Scott used for his 2008 Guitar Player magazine article, which differs slightly from the one posted on the Seymour Duncan site. (I covered the parts necessary for the operation here.)

Old components, you are OUT of here!

I decided to work from a clean slate and pull all the electronics from my Paul, much like gutting a Halloween pumpkin. This has been my “mad scientist” guitar, so it was a bloody mess in there!

I popped in the new pickups and routed their wires. I didn’t replace the metal shielding box used on these ’80s Les Pauls — the guitar is heavy enough without it! Instead, I applied adhesive shielding material from Stewart-MacDonald. I used four brand new long-shaft 500K push/pull pots. I labeled them with magic marker and used colored twist ties to denote the various pickup wires.

Clear labeling: a good idea even if you're not stupid.

The hardest part of the job is threading wires through the tiny lugs in the push/pull portion of the pots — especially since you need to make dual connections at many of these spots. (I found it helpful to use 24-gauge stranded but pre-bonded wire from Small Bear.)

It was definitely easier to do all the wiring before fastening the pots to the guitar body. But if you care about your guitar, don’t follow my example — use a better protective material than a piece of paper.

Do as I say, not as a I do, and shield your guitar with a nice, thick cloth — not a piece of printer paper.

From that point, it was just a painstaking process of duplicating all the wire connections from the diagram. Incredibly, it all worked after the first attempt. And that never happens around here!

Despite its considerable hassle factor, I love this mod. It’s so cool and versatile that I’m going to keep it in my guitar forever rip it all out and start over. I’ll be using P-Rails pickups and Triple Shot mounting rings to unlock even more sounds than Pagey managed. Will they be worth the extra effort? We’ll find out soon. :)

Double the sounds available from your axe!

Man, preparing the Pagey project has been a real eye-opener! Expect some surprising results! (Hint: There’s much of interest, even for players who have zero desire to sound like Page.)

I’ll be posting the first video and tech walk-through after the weekend, but in [...]]]>

Double the sounds available from your axe!

Man, preparing the Pagey project has been a real eye-opener! Expect some surprising results! (Hint: There’s much of interest, even for players who have zero desire to sound like Page.)

I’ll be posting the first video and tech walk-through after the weekend, but in the meantime, I wanted to update you on the game plan, which, frankly, only became clear once I started soldering.

If you haven’t downloaded the relevant schematics, you can snag them here. (Reader Jeff pointed out pointed out a difference between the two versions of the four-push/pull wiring. I have no idea which version page used, but I went with the version from Scott Miller’s Guitar Player magazine article because it offers a bit more control — and this project is all about control!)

We’re going to tackle the project in two phases. First, we’ll look at the original Pagey wiring, using four push-pull pots and period-accurate pickups (I went with Duncan ’59s with four-connector cable). I’ve wired up my ’82 Les Paul in exactly this fashion, and it’s pretty dang cool. Yes, it’s a complicated job, but not as tough as anticipated. Amazingly (for me) it turned out great on the first attempt.

In Phase 2, I’ll rip all the painstakingly assembled wiring out of the guitar (wahhhh!) and try the even more extreme version, which uses a pair of Duncan Triple Shot mounting rings, but only two push/pull pots. This scheme offers all the original Pagey sounds, plus many others. I’ll be replacing the ’59 models with Duncan P-Rails, which manage to deliver excellent humbucker, single-coil, and P-90 sounds via a single pickup.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep the other two push/pull pots in the guitar, in case I want to add even more crap, like a Black Ice distortion or a germanium overdrive.

(Not to give too much away in advance, but one of my Phase 1 surprises is the quality of the ’59 Model’s split-coil sounds. It’ll be interesting to compare the results to the P-Rails, which unlike the P.A.F.-style ’59s, were specifically engineered for coil-splitting.)

Anyway, dust off your soldering irons and fire extinguishers — this one is fun! More soon!

Weird — back when I wrote this GP cover story, I never even noticed the Hello Kitty guitar!

Maybe it’s because of the crescendo of chatter about a Smiths reunion, but I’ve had Johnny Marr on the brain lately. (Full disclosure: I am a total, drooling fan.) I keep coming [...]]]>

Weird — back when I wrote this GP cover story, I never even noticed the Hello Kitty guitar!

Maybe it’s because of the crescendo of chatter about a Smiths reunion, but I’ve had Johnny Marr on the brain lately. (Full disclosure: I am a total, drooling fan.) I keep coming back to how deceptively simple his parts are, with an emphasis on the “deception” part. There’s always much more happening than initially meets the ear.

Perfect example: “This Charming Man,” the band’s first single. It’s always been my favorite Smiths guitar performance — even more than the apocalyptic tremolo and harmonizer work of “How Soon Is Now?” Maybe it’s because I’m still astounded by the originality and sheer chutzpah of the young guitarist, who was all of 19 when the track was released.

“This Charming Man” is a perfect little pop guitar part, with an African highlife-inflected head and lots of pretty open-string chiming throughout. But the deeper you dig, the more you uncover. And you won’t believe what I uncovered during my latest Smiths geek-out:

I was prowling for Smiths content on YouTube, when I stumbled across this:

Yep — some unnamed benefactor has leaked the individual instrumental stems of this remarkable single. I’ve written previously about the series of illicitly leaked individual tracks from classic rock recordings available on the web, usually via the keywords “mutlitrack masters.” (I won’t bore you again with the whole intellectual property argument — suffice it to say, I support these releases on educational grounds.) And this leak is a prize!

Here’s what Johnny told me about the performance when I interviewed him in ’89, just after the Smiths broke up:

“‘This Charming Man’ was the first record where I used those highlife-sounding runs in 3rds. I’m tuned up to F# and I finger it in G, so it comes out in A. There are about 15 tracks of guitar. People thought the main guitar part was a Rickenbacker, but it’s really a ’54 Tele. There are three tracks of acoustic, a backwards guitar with a really long reverb, and the effect of dropping knives on the guitar — that comes in at the end of the chorus.”

Seriously — unless you read that, would it ever have occurred to you that there were 15 guitar tracks? Even after spending the intervening years listening for everything Johnny described, I still couldn’t hear it. Till now.

Curious about those acoustic guitars and backward-reverb sounds? We’ve got those too!

And yes, I can finally hear those dropping knives! Naturally, it’s on the open F#m chord (fingered as Em in Marr’s F# tuning).

There are so many awesome details here: the not-quite perfectly doubled Telecasters. A thin, acidic bridge pickup tone that most players with “good taste” would scorn. The subtle changes in the acoustic guitar groove. The dissonant arpeggio and sweet harmonics in the chorus. The isolated tremolo accent. (And if you listen on headphones, you’ll hear all the headphone leakage that accumulated over the course of those ambitious overdubs.)

My takeaway for today: Subliminal parts can be meaningful. Johnny talked about how he loved Roxy Music’s albums, because every listening uncovered previously unnoticed details. It’s those subtle, mysterious elements that keep the song so engaging after 30 effin’ years.

Let’s give Johnny the last word: Here’s a clip from a 2007 BBC documentary where he demonstrates the song’s main riffs — but sadly, not the knife-dropping part.