What Fretboard Radius Actually Means

Fretboard radius describes how curved the surface of your fingerboard is across its width. The number is the radius of an imaginary circle that the arc of the board would complete, so a smaller number means a rounder, more curved board and a larger number means a flatter one. A 7.25″ radius is noticeably domed, while a 9.5″ radius is flatter and more relaxed under the hand.

For context, most vintage-era Fenders wore that rounded 7.25″ curve, Fender’s modern standard settled on 9.5″, Gibson tends to sit around 12″, and many contemporary players’ guitars stretch to 12″ or flatter. None of these is objectively “correct.” They simply favor different playing styles.

The Case for the 7.25″ Vintage Radius

The rounded 7.25″ board is beloved for how it fills the palm. When you cup your hand around the neck for open chords and first-position rhythm work, the curve follows the natural arc of your fingers, and a lot of players describe it as instantly comfortable and “broken in.” It is a big part of why old Strats and Teles feel the way they do.

The trade-off shows up when you push the strings. Because the surface curves away so sharply, bends and low action fight each other on a 7.25″ board. Bend a note far enough and the string can choke out, or “fret out,” against the higher frets. Players who set their action low for fast leads often find the vintage radius frustrating.

The Case for the 9.5″ Modern Radius

The flatter 9.5″ radius is Fender’s modern compromise, and it earns its keep by keeping most of that Fender feel while solving the biggest vintage headache. With less curve across the board, you can set the action lower without notes fretting out, so big bends and quick lead lines stay clean.

Most players still find 9.5″ perfectly comfortable for chords, even if it lacks that last bit of “in the palm” roundness the 7.25″ board delivers. For a lot of guitarists it hits the sweet spot: vintage enough to feel like a Fender, modern enough to shred on.

Chording and Rhythm Feel

For open chords, barre shapes, and rhythm playing, the rounder 7.25″ board has a slight edge in pure comfort because it matches the way your fingers naturally arch. Fans of the vintage curve often say it makes cowboy chords feel effortless.

That said, the difference is subtle, and 9.5″ is a hair flatter without feeling like a plank. Plenty of rhythm-focused players are perfectly happy on the modern radius and never think twice about it.

Bending and Lead Playing

This is where the two radii separate most clearly. If you love low action and expressive, wide bends, the flatter 9.5″ board is the friendlier tool. The rounder 7.25″ radius rewards a slightly higher setup and a lighter touch, and if you fight it with low action you will meet that fret-out problem quickly.

None of this means you cannot play lead on a vintage-radius neck; countless legends did exactly that. It simply asks for a setup that respects the curve rather than working against it.

Where Fret Size Comes Into It

Radius is only half of the feel equation. Fret size, from vintage-narrow up to jumbo, changes how the same board plays. Bigger frets like jumbos let you fret and bend with a lighter touch, since your fingertips press more against the fret than the wood, which many lead players love. Smaller vintage frets feel flatter and more traditional, and fans of that style value the direct contact with the board.

Pairing matters, too. A flatter radius with taller frets is a popular modern combination for fast, low-action playing, while a rounder radius with vintage frets leans fully into that classic feel.

My Personal Take

For what it is worth, I personally prefer 9.5″ over 7.25″. The flatter board just suits how I play, especially when I want lower action and room to bend. On fret size I lean the same direction, and I actually prefer jumbo frets for that lighter, more effortless touch.

I love Fender guitars, and most of them are 9.5″. But to be honest, I generally prefer a more modern compound neck between 10″ and 14″ radius. That combination of comfort down low and cleanliness up high fits my hands better than either vintage spec on its own.

Compound Radius: The Best of Both?

A compound radius neck is designed to sidestep the whole debate. It starts rounder near the nut, often around 9.5″ or 10″, so chords stay comfortable, then gradually flattens toward the body, frequently to 12″ to 14″ or beyond, so bends and low action stay clean up high.

For players who want vintage comfort in the chord positions and modern performance for leads, a compound board can genuinely feel like the best of both worlds. It is a big reason so many contemporary players’ guitars use one.

A good example of a guitar that features a compound neck is the Fender Ultra and Ultra II Telecaster (or Strat). Those feature a compound fretboard radius that goes from 10″ near the nut to 14″ on the higher end of the fretboard near the body.

Which Radius Is Right for You?

If you live in open chords, love vintage vibe, and set your action a touch higher, the rounded 7.25″ board will likely charm you. If you bend often, prefer low action, or split your time between rhythm and lead, the flatter 9.5″ radius, or a compound neck, is probably the safer bet.

The best approach is to play both if you can. Radius is a feel thing, and your hands will tell you more in five minutes than any spec sheet can.

Final Thoughts

There is no winner in the 7.25″ versus 9.5″ debate, only the right fit for your hands and your style. The vintage radius trades a little bending performance for that unmistakable palm-filling comfort, while the modern radius trades a touch of that roundness for cleaner low action and easier bends. Factor in fret size and the option of a compound board, and you have everything you need to pick the neck that disappears under your fingers and lets you just play.

The Six String Sensei article that compares the Fender American Original 60s Stratocaster vs American Vintage II Stratocaster is another good story that offers a direct, real-world comparison between a guitar that features a 7.25″ fretboard radius and one with a modern 9.5″ radius.

The guitar-related post 7.25″ vs 9.5″ Fretboard Radius: What Guitarists Love and Hate is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.

Why I Rarely Sell a Guitar

I almost never part with an instrument. There is usually something special about each guitar I own, and even on the ones that are not my favorites I tend to find things I genuinely enjoy. That is what makes the American Original 60s worth writing about: it was one of the very few guitars I have actually sold.

I did not sell it because it let me down. I sold it at a time when I was trying to move money into something else, and the AO60s Strat happened to be the guitar I was playing the least. I loved how it felt like quality. The gloss nitrocellulose finish, on both the neck and the body, was fantastic.

What Made My American Original 60s So Special

There is something about guitars, even mass-produced ones, where each individual model and each individual unit varies from the next. They differ in weight, ever so slightly in shape, and noticeably in sound and feel. I knew from the very beginning that this particular Olympic White example was a special and unique one.

I also ordered it while speculating a little on price. Mine came from the very last batch Sweetwater received before the American Original 60s was discontinued and replaced by the AVII Stratocaster. I expected these to climb in value, but the truth is they never really did. Oddly enough, the Olympic White ones never got that popular, while these days you can find the Shell Pink version selling for considerably more than the white ones. Regardless, neither of the two colors is selling for more than new. Given Fender always has this little niche filled with some kind of new option, it’s likely we won’t see the AO60s selling for more than new, anytime soon.

The Things I Didn’t Love About the AO60s Strat

None of this is a knock on the guitar. It was an amazing instrument through and through, and my gripes are almost entirely personal preference:

• I am not a fan of the vintage-style narrow frets. I generally prefer standard or jumbo frets under my fingers.
• I would rather have 22 frets than 21, though this bothers me far less. I own other 21-fret guitars I enjoy just as much.
• The nitrocellulose back of the neck is a little sticky compared to the slippery, more modern necks on guitars like the American Ultra or American Professional II.
• The pickups felt a touch weak to me, but that is because they are vintage-voiced and I am simply used to playing hotter pickups.
• Keeping the truss rod adjustment at the heel is true to vintage spec, but I honestly prefer the convenience of adjusting it at the headstock end.

Even the six-point vintage tremolo bridge felt great, and that is coming from someone whose other Strats wear the two-point tremolo. Everything else about this guitar was awesome.

How the American Vintage II Stratocaster Differs on Paper

Fender retired the American Original 60s in early 2022 and rolled out the American Vintage II 1961 Stratocaster later that year as its spiritual and catalog replacement. The interesting twist is that the AVII does not modernize the formula. If anything, it leans further into period-correct territory than the American Original 60s did, which matters a lot depending on which of my gripes you happen to share.

Neck, Fingerboard Radius and Frets

My AO60s Stratocaster used a thick “’60s C” maple neck with a round-laminated rosewood fingerboard and a fairly modern 9.5″ radius. The AVII moves to a period-accurate 7.25″ radius over a slab rosewood board with a “1961 C” profile. Both necks are gloss nitrocellulose, and both carry a bone nut at 1.650″.

Here is the catch for players like me: both the American Original 60s and the AVII Strat stick with 21 frets in the vintage-tall size. So if you were hoping the successor would add a 22nd fret or move to wider frets, it does not. And that rounder 7.25″ radius on the American Vintage II can make aggressive bends choke out more easily at low action than the flatter 9.5″ board on the AO60s.

Pickups and Electronics

The American Original 60s ran a trio of Pure Vintage ’65 gray-bottom staggered single-coils, wired with a slightly modernized control scheme and no reverse-wound middle pickup. The AVII 1961 uses Pure Vintage ’61 single-coils with beveled staggered poles and vintage-correct wiring.

Both sets are low-output, vintage-voiced pickups. That means the “a little weak” feeling I had with the AO60s would very likely carry over to the American Vintage II if you, too, are coming from hotter, more modern pickups. These are guitars built for classic Strat chime, not high-output punch.

Bridge, Hardware and Finish

Both Stratocasters share a six-point synchronized tremolo and a gloss nitrocellulose finish over an alder body, so the core vintage recipe is intact on each. The American Vintage II layers on extra period detail: a chrome bridge cover, a cold-rolled steel block with bent-steel saddles, a spaghetti logo, clay-style dots with wide spacing, and a vintage 11-hole pickguard layout.

By comparison, the AO60s wore a transition-era logo, pearloid dots with narrower spacing, and a more modern pickguard configuration. On color, the American Original 60s was offered in 3-Color Sunburst, Olympic White, Shell Pink, and Candy Apple Red, while the AVII Strat comes in 3-Color Sunburst, Olympic White, and Fiesta Red.

Truss Rod and Everyday Playability

If the heel-adjust truss rod on the American Original 60s bugged you, brace yourself: the AVII keeps the vintage-style butt-adjust truss rod too. Likewise, the sticky gloss-nitro neck feel I mentioned is baked into both guitars by design. Neither one is trying to feel like a modern player’s Strat.

If those modern conveniences are what you actually want, a headstock-end truss rod, a slicker satin neck, hotter pickups, and a two-point tremolo, you are better served by something like the American Professional II or the American Ultra rather than either of these vintage-minded models.

Which Strat Is Right for You?

Affiliate disclosure: Some of the links in this article are affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you if you buy through them. I only point you toward gear I would genuinely consider owning myself.

If your goal is the most authentic early-’60s Stratocaster experience Fender currently sells new, the American Vintage II 1961 is the more period-correct choice. If you loved everything about the nitro vibe but appreciated the slightly more modern 9.5″ radius, then the American Original 60s is worth hunting down, and it has the added charm of being a discontinued model with its own small following.

Because the AO60s Strat is no longer in production, the used market is where you will find one. Reverb is the most reliable place to browse American Original 60s Stratocasters by color and condition, and to keep an eye on how the Shell Pink and Olympic White examples are trending.

Final Thoughts

Selling my Olympic White American Original 60s is one of the few guitar decisions I still think about, and comparing it to the AVII 1961 makes it clear why. Fender did not so much upgrade the concept as re-aim it, trading the AO60s Strat’s mildly modern touches for the American Vintage II’s stricter vintage accuracy. Neither one solves my personal wishlist of jumbo frets, hotter pickups, and a headstock truss rod, but both are beautifully made nitro-finished Strats that reward anyone who values that classic feel over modern convenience.

The guitar-related post Fender American Original 60s vs American Vintage II Stratocaster: An Owner’s Comparison is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.

SixStringSensei is reader-supported. If you buy through links in this article, I may earn a small affiliate commission at no extra cost to you.

What Makes the Lightspeed an “Organic” Overdrive

Greer Amps built the Greer Lightspeed Organic Overdrive for the player chasing a natural drive tone, and the “organic” name is the whole pitch. Instead of stamping its own voice on top of your sound, the pedal blends with the character of your guitar and amplifier, adding rich harmonics and a complex but smooth clipping that never feels processed.

It is unusually sensitive to pick attack, so it responds to your hands the way a great tube amp does. Dig in and it pushes harder; back off and it cleans up. At $249 and built to order by hand (though plenty of stock is usually available), it sits in boutique territory, and the Premier Guitar Premier Gear Award it picked up tells you the wider gear world agrees it earns the price. That’s all good and well, but I’m more interested in what the general guitarist thinks about it.

Why Everyone Calls It Transparent

People reach for the word transparent with this pedal for a specific reason: the note articulation and separation through it is unmatched, even when you crank up the gain. Most overdrives start to smear and compress as you add dirt, collapsing chords into a single blurry wall. The Lightspeed refuses to do that.

Strum a full chord with the gain pushed and every string keeps its own identity. Play intervals or partial voicings and you can still hear the individual notes breathing inside the drive. That clarity is what makes it sound less like an effect and more like a better version of the amp you already own.

Where the Lightspeed Really Shines: Low Gain, High Volume

For my money, the Lightspeed does its best work in low-gain, high-volume settings. Keep the drive down and push the level up, and it adds a unique boost element that is edgy and clean but sitting right on the doorstep of hot breakup.

It is the sound of an amp that is working hard without fully tipping over, and it gives rhythm parts a forward, three-dimensional shove that cuts through a band mix. If you mostly want presence, punch, and the feeling of a bigger amp rather than obvious distortion, this is the corner of the dial where the Lightspeed feels almost magic.

Controls, Power, and Build Quality

The feature set is refreshingly simple and built to last. Greer specs top-quality components, true-bypass switching, and a 5-year warranty to the original owner, which says a lot about how much they trust their own build.

• Power: 9 to 18 volts, negative center pin only, drawing just 11mA at 9 volts.
• Headroom option: running it at 18 volts opens up extra headroom and tightens the low end.
• Powering it: takes a 9-volt battery or a standard 2.1mm negative-center supply.
• Footprint: a standard enclosure at roughly 4.77″ x 2.6″ x 1.39″ – it tucks onto a crowded board. This the the tried-and-true size of JHS and many Walrus Audio pedals.

True Bypass and the 3PDT Switch

The Lightspeed uses traditional 3PDT true-bypass switching, the familiar hard-clicking footswitch that has anchored pedalboards for decades. I am deliberately working it into a rig built mainly around these hard-clicking switches, because there is a consistency to the feel and the audible click that I genuinely prefer underfoot.

True bypass also means the pedal is completely out of your signal path when it is off, with no tone-sucking and no buffer coloring your sound. For a drive this transparent, keeping the bypassed signal equally honest just makes sense.

A Plethora of Colorways to Choose From

One of the unexpected joys of shopping for a Lightspeed is the sheer number of finishes. Greer has partnered with many different shops over the years, each offering exclusive color combinations, so there is a genuine plethora of colorways out there. Mine is the Black and Charcoal version, which looks as understated and serious as the pedal sounds.

Find the colorway that suits you from a plethora of available color combos with the button below, and check current listings to see which shop-exclusive finishes are floating around.

Who’s Playing the Lightspeed

The Lightspeed has quietly become a touring-rig staple. Greer lists it on boards for players like Peter Stroud (Sheryl Crow), Drew Shirley (Switchfoot), Alex Weeden (Miranda Lambert), Jordan Peters (Lauryn Hill), and plenty more working pros.

That kind of adoption matters because touring players need gear that is reliable, predictable night after night, and flattering across many different amps and rooms. A transparent, amp-like drive that gets out of the way is exactly the tool a pro reaches for, and it is a strong signal for the rest of us.

Is the Greer Lightspeed Worth It?

If you want an overdrive that respects your tone, preserves note clarity even at higher gain, and doubles as a gorgeous edge-of-breakup boost, the Greer Lightspeed Organic Overdrive is one of the easiest recommendations in the boutique drive world. It is the rare pedal that lives up to a reputation built almost entirely on word of mouth.

It is not the cheapest path to dirt, and players who want aggressive, saturated distortion should look elsewhere. But for natural, transparent, hands-responsive drive, the Lightspeed earns its spot on the board and tends to stay there.

The guitar-related post Greer Lightspeed Review: Truly Transparent & Organic Overdrive is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.

Why String Gauge Matters More Than You Think

String gauge is simply the thickness of your strings, measured in thousandths of an inch and usually named by the high E. A “09-42” set runs a .009 high E up to a .042 low E, while an “08-38” set drops everything a step lighter. That small change in diameter has an outsized effect on tension, and tension is what your hands actually fight against every time you play.

Important Note: Some people call 9-42 light and 8-38 super light. However, in the case of D’Addario NYXL 09-42 are considered super light strings, and 08-38 are considered extra super light electric guitar strings. Yes, this can be confusing, so go by the numbers when possible.

Thinner strings sit at lower tension for the same tuning and scale length. Lower tension means less force to push a string to the fret, less force to bend it, and less fatigue over a long session. For a lot of players, that difference is the gap between a guitar that feels like work and one that feels like an extension of your hands.

Less Pressure to Fret Notes and Bar Chords

The most immediate benefit of lighter strings is how little pressure it takes to fret a clean note. Thicker strings demand more downward force to seat against the fret, and that adds up fast across a three-hour practice session or a full gig.

Bar chords are where this really shows. Holding down all six strings with one finger is a strength-and-stamina exercise, and lighter strings shrink the effort required to get every note ringing. If you’re a newer player whose hand cramps up on an F bar chord, or a seasoned player who just wants to last longer before fatigue sets in, dropping a gauge is one of the simplest fixes available.

It also helps anyone dealing with hand strain. Less required grip strength means less stress on the fingers, wrist, and forearm, which can keep you playing comfortably for longer.

Bending Notes Becomes Effortless

If you love expressive lead playing, this is the headline. Bends are pure tension management, and lighter strings make them dramatically easier to execute and control.

On a heavier set, a full-step bend can be a real workout, especially up high on the wound strings. Drop to 08-38 and those same bends take noticeably less effort, which means cleaner pitch, wider vibrato, and the confidence to reach for those big bluesy bends you might normally avoid. Over-bends of a step and a half suddenly feel realistic instead of punishing.

Better control follows naturally. When you aren’t straining to move the string, it’s far easier to land on pitch and add the kind of singing vibrato that defines great lead tone.

A Faster, More Comfortable Feel for Lead Playing

Beyond bending, lighter strings simply feel quicker under the fingers. Legato runs, fast pull-offs, and rapid position shifts all benefit from the reduced resistance.

That low-friction feel is exactly why so many lead-focused and shred players gravitate toward thinner gauges. Less fatigue and lower tension let you play longer and looser, which tends to make technique feel more fluid. It won’t magically make you faster, but it does remove a layer of physical resistance between your idea and the note.

Why 08-38 Is the Natural Step Down From 09-42

Here’s the practical part. A huge number of guitars built on the 25.5″ scale length, including the Fender Stratocaster and Telecaster, ship from the factory with 09-42 strings. That set has become the de facto standard, and it’s what most players think of as “normal.”

The set directly below it in thickness is 08-38. It’s not a wild leap into ultra-thin territory; it’s the very next rung down the ladder. Every string is a touch lighter, the overall tension drops a meaningful amount, and the guitar you already know suddenly feels easier to play without changing anything else about it.

That makes 08-38 the obvious experiment for anyone curious about going lighter. You keep your standard tuning, you keep your scale length, and you get the benefits of reduced tension with the smallest possible change from what you’re used to.

What Players Like Rick Beato Say About Light Strings

Light gauge strings have plenty of high-profile advocates. Rick Beato, the producer and educator behind one of the most-watched guitar channels online, has openly championed thinner strings, including a well-known video comparing 8s, 9s, and 10s in which he makes the case for the feel and even the tone of lighter sets.

He’s far from alone. Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top is famously associated with extremely light strings, and countless studio and lead players quietly run thinner gauges than their fans assume. The takeaway isn’t that everyone should switch, but that light strings are a legitimate, professional-grade choice, not a beginner’s crutch.

The Trade-Offs Worth Knowing

Lighter strings aren’t free of compromise, and it’s only fair to lay out the other side before you switch.

• Less low-end thump. Thinner strings move less air, so you may notice a slightly thinner low end and reduced output compared with heavier sets.
• They can feel loose. Players with an aggressive pick attack sometimes find light strings feel floppy or go sharp when they dig in hard.
• More prone to buzz. Lower tension and lower action together can introduce fret buzz if your setup isn’t dialed in.
• Not ideal for low tunings. If you tune down to drop C or lower, an 08-38 set will likely feel too slack and lose definition.

None of these are deal-breakers for standard-tuning players, but they’re worth weighing against the comfort gains.

Getting Your Guitar Set Up for Lighter Strings

Changing gauge changes the tension your neck and bridge are balanced for, so a fresh set of 08-38 strings deserves a quick setup to play its best.

• Truss rod. Less string tension means less forward pull on the neck, so the relief may need a small adjustment.
• Intonation. Thinner strings can shift where each saddle needs to sit, so recheck tuning at the 12th fret.
• Tremolo balance. On a floating Strat-style bridge, lighter strings reduce pull, so the spring tension may need rebalancing to sit level.
• Nut slots. Going much lighter can occasionally cause minor slippage in nut slots cut for thicker strings, though stepping from 09 to 08 is usually fine.

If you’re not comfortable doing this yourself, a basic tech setup after the gauge change is money well spent.

Where to Buy

This article contains affiliate links. If you buy through them, SixStringSensei may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. I only point you toward gear I’d be comfortable recommending to a friend.

If you want to try going lighter, a strong choice is the D’Addario NYXL0838 Extra Super Light set, which lays out exactly as an 08-38: a .008, .010, and .015 on the plain strings and .021, .030, and .038 on the wound strings. It’s D’Addario’s lightest standard six-string combination, built for the lowest tension and the easiest possible feel.

The NYXL line is a sensible place to go light because the same thinness that helps your hands can otherwise hurt tuning stability. D’Addario builds these around a high-carbon NY Steel core and a fusion-twist process the company says delivers greater break strength and meaningfully better tuning stability than traditional strings, which helps offset the usual downsides of a very light set. For a standard-tuned 25.5″ Strat or Tele, it’s an easy, low-commitment way to feel the difference for yourself.

Final Thoughts

Light gauge strings are one of the rare upgrades that cost very little yet change how your guitar plays every single time you pick it up. Easier fretting, easier bends, and a faster overall feel are a lot to gain from a single string change.

If you’re already on 09-42, an 08-38 set is the most logical next step to test the waters, no new guitar and no new tuning required. Give it a few days, set the guitar up properly, and let your hands tell you whether lighter is the way to go.

While you might not need locking tuners for extra light gauge guitar strings regarding tuning stability, they do help make string changes quick. Check out my article:
Are Locking Tuners Better Than Standard Tuners?

The guitar-related post Benefits of Extra Super Light Gauge Electric Guitar Strings (Why 08-38 Is Worth a Try) is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.

Big box delays tend to fall into two camps. Some chase the most extreme, otherworldly sounds they can muster, while others focus on doing classic delay tones beautifully. The Echosystem leans toward the second camp, and that is a big part of why I love it. It feels familiar in the best way, yet it hides a surprising amount of depth under the hood.

A More Traditional Voice Than the Competition

What draws me to the Echosystem is how natural it sounds. Compared to something like a Strymon Timeline, I think it has a more inspiring voice, and compared to the Meris LVX it stays grounded in the kind of delays most of us already know and love. The LVX is brilliant, but it can get pretty wacky, surreal, and out there. The Echosystem, by contrast, gives you delays you are familiar with and makes them sound gorgeous. Under the hood there is real horsepower too, with more than 36 algorithms spanning digital, tape, analog, multi tap, reverse, ambient, and even reverb modes, all running at 48kHz sampling with 24 bit conversion and 32 bit internal processing.

Dual Engines and the Output Transformer

The heart of the Echosystem is its dual engine design. You can run any two delays at once and route them in parallel, in series, or split them left and right, which is where a lot of the magic lives. That said, even though it is a cool feature, it’s one of the things I used the least. For guitarists that do a lot of ambient playing, this feature is way more valuable than it is to me.

I also really like that it has an output transformer. One of the outputs can be optionally isolated so you can lift the ground and avoid nasty ground loops when running into two amps. In my own rig I usually put a reverb pedal after it, so I have not been able to lean on that feature much. However, I have tried it and it works.

Here’s an Instagram video where I demonstrate how this works:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Danny Cruz (@dannycruzcreations)

If you own the Empress Reverb with its own output transformer, that isolation tends to be a lot more useful there, since the reverb usually sits last in the chain.

Powerful, but a Little Confusing

As great as this delay sounds, and as feature packed as it is, it can be a little confusing to use. Compared to a Timeline, an LVX, or an Eventide H9, the Echosystem has no screen, so you are constantly trying to read what each of the LEDs is telling you. That gets especially tricky when you are running in dual delay engine mode and tracking two engines at once. Overall the controls are definitely more confusing than other big box delays. The flip side is that if you are in the mood to experiment, you are in for a treat, and you can absolutely come up with some amazing delay sounds.

Footprint, Connectivity, and Extras

I really like the footprint and the shape of the pedal. My one small gripe is that the outputs sit a little close together, so certain patch cables do not seat as nicely as I would like. For example, the popular Squareplug SP500 is too wide to sit side by side in the outputs if you need all 4. Fine if you’re running mono though. You’ll need the Squareplug SPS5 straight plugs, or other straight plugs if you want to use all 4 outputs. There are some other smaller angled plugs than the SP500, I just don’t have experience with them.

It has MIDI, though some players consider the implementation a touch limited. Even so, I appreciate the feature set, including a built in looper and an SD card slot that handles both looping and firmware updates. The Universal Control Port is a nice touch as well, letting you connect an expression pedal, an external tap switch, control voltage, or MIDI through a single standard quarter inch jack.

A Studio Favorite More Than a Live Pedal

Even though it works just fine on a live stage, and players like Joey Landreth use it live, I feel a lot more comfortable with the Echosystem in the studio or at home. Its complexity can give you a bit of analysis paralysis when you are trying to dial things in under pressure. For live use I tend to reach for something much simpler, and save the Echosystem for the moments when I have time to dig in and explore.

Pairs Beautifully With the Empress Reverb

The Echosystem goes very well with the Empress Reverb, and of course you can combine it with any other delay you like. Beyond the sound, there is something satisfying about having matching shaped boxes sitting together on the same pedalboard. It is a small thing, but it makes the whole rig feel intentional.

To Conclude

The Empress Echosystem is a deep, inspiring, and genuinely musical big box delay that rewards patience. It trades the convenience of a screen for a hands on, LED driven workflow that takes some getting used to, but the payoff is a delay that sounds better to me than most of its rivals and keeps surprising me with new sounds. If you want a delay that does the classics beautifully while still leaving room to experiment, and you do not mind a bit of a learning curve, the Echosystem is very hard to beat, especially with an Empress Reverb sitting right next to it.

Since you’re on the topic of big box delay pedals, you may want to check out my article on Why I Sold My Meris LVX.

The guitar-related post Empress Echosystem Delay Review: Potent, Quirky, and Still Worth It is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.

Years later the hype has cooled and plenty of players have moved on, which is a shame because the pedal is genuinely great. This is why I still love mine, and why now might be the best time to grab one.

A Quick Word on the Golden Boy Hype

When the Golden Boy first dropped, the buzz was hard to miss. Designed in collaboration with Joey Landreth, it was pitched as a transparent overdrive, and word spread fast that one of its clipping voices supposedly emulated the Analogman King of Tone, with other modes said to land in the neighborhood of classics like the Ibanez Tube Screamer. Whether or not you buy every one of those comparisons, the marketing did its job. People wanted in. It also helped that this was a properly feature packed pedal, offering multiple gain structures, a dedicated boost, and MIDI control, which was still fairly novel for an overdrive at the time.

My Two Golden Boys

I ordered one of the earlier units in gold, and I have been very pleased with it for years now. At one point I also ordered a custom black version with white text. Funny story there. When I placed that order, the guy at Jackson Audio went and made it, then accidentally sent me a black on black version instead, which you can see in the photos. I sent that one back since what I really wanted was the black with white text. I still have both the gold one and the black and white one, and they have earned their keep.

The MOSFET Boost Steals the Show

I honestly think the Golden Boy is a great overdrive, but my favorite part of it is actually the MOSFET boost. To my ears it is one of the most beautiful sounding boosts out there. I often kick it on just to bolden up clean parts, especially on guitars with single coils when I am playing through the neck pickup. It warms everything up in a way that is hard to stop using once you hear it. For me that boost alone justifies keeping the pedal on the board.

The boost on the Golden Boy is so good that I often find myself trying to get as close as I can to it, with other pedals, when I don’t have my Golden Boy nearby. I’ve gotten pretty close with the Kernom Ridge. However, even pedals like the well-respected Empress ParaEQ MKII Deluxe, which has a very popular dedicated boost, lacks the warmth found in the boost of the Golden Boy.

The Honest Pros and Cons

Let me be frank about the trade offs. The MIDI implementation is on the limited side, but that has never bothered me, because I set up my presets in my Morningstar MIDI controllers and I do not need the pedal itself to store them. It sounds great, the boost is gorgeous, and the feature set covers what I actually use. My one real criticism, which I have mentioned in another article, is that many Jackson Audio pedals have a slight delay when you hit the switch and the pedal engages. That is because it is designed to come on at the up movement of the foot switch. It is by design, since that is the only way the dual footswitch gain staging can work, but it does take a moment to get used to. It’s fine most of the time, but not good when you need an immediate change from clean to overdrive with no audio dropout. Interestingly, switching via MIDI is much faster and brings that audio dropout to almost nothing – Very close to how many Chase Bliss pedals switch on.

The bigger picture is the overdrive chase itself. We guitarists are always hunting the next best drive, so a lot of guys simply sold their Golden Boys and moved on to whatever came next. It is too bad, because the pedal is excellent, and while many of the newer overdrives are genuinely awesome, the constant chase is often a substitute for actually practicing. The upside for the rest of us is that all that turnover means you can find a Golden Boy used on places like Reverb for very reasonable money. One thing to watch for is the printing, since some units show the text wearing off. Look carefully and you will find plenty with perfect print, so hold out for one of those.

Conclusion

The Jackson Audio Golden Boy is one of those pedals that got swept up in hype, lived through the inevitable backlash, and came out the other side still being a fantastic overdrive. Between the four clipping voices, the flexible gain staging, and that gorgeous MOSFET boost, there is a lot of pedal here for the money, especially now. If you passed on it during the frenzy or sold yours chasing something shinier, the used market is quietly giving you a second chance. I am keeping both of mine.

If you like MIDI pedals, you might want to check out my: List of Overdrive Pedals with MIDI Control.

The guitar-related post Jackson Audio Golden Boy Hype: Is It Still Worth It? is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.

I bought my first Telecaster well before I ever owned a Strat, and over the years it grew from a single cheap import into a small collection of instruments I genuinely love. This is the story of how I got here and why the Telecaster keeps earning its spot no matter what else is on the wall.

It Started Before the Strat

Even though my initial draw to the guitar came from a Gibson, I was always fascinated by the Telecaster. I got to one before I ever bought a Stratocaster. My first was a black made in Mexico Telecaster from around 2004, and to be honest it was not very good. I tried to make it my own by modifying it, including dropping a narrow humbucking pickup (Hot Rails or something) into the bridge position, mostly because my main goal at the time was playing punk rock. It was not the guitar that made me a Telecaster believer, but it planted the seed.

A Few Facts About the Fender Telecaster

For a little context to go with the infographic, the Telecaster holds a real place in history as the first solid body electric guitar to be mass produced and widely adopted by working musicians. Leo Fender and George Fullerton developed it in Southern California, and it reached full production in late 1950. It did not arrive with the Telecaster name attached, though. The two pickup model was first called the Broadcaster, but Gretsch already sold a drum kit under the similar Broadkaster name and sent a cease and desist to Fender. For a brief window Fender shipped guitars with no model name on the headstock at all, instruments collectors now affectionately call Nocasters, before the Telecaster name was settled on in 1951 to ride the rising wave of television.

The design was radical in its simplicity and it has barely needed to change. A bolt on neck, a flat slab body, two single coil pickups, and a three position selector switch gave players a bright, cutting voice that recorded beautifully and cut through any band. That straightforward formula is exactly why the Telecaster has shown up on so many records across country, rock, blues, pop, soul, and just about everything else for more than seventy years.

Some bold players in heavy genres like punk and metal are well known for playing Teles. Guys like El Hefe from NOFX and John 5 – Though I believe both these guys put humbuckers in them, or in the case of John 5, a full size humbucker.

From One Telecaster to a Collection

I eventually sold that first one and moved through a bunch of other guitars, including some Strats. At some point I bought an American Telecaster, and that is really where the collecting started. I ended up with a couple of American Professional II Telecasters, which are honestly my favorites of the bunch. One of them is in that stunning Dark Knight color. Before that one I had picked up an American Professional II in Butterscotch Blonde with a maple fretboard, which is about as classic a Telecaster look as it gets.

From there I got curious about the American Ultra series, the first version with the binding running around the body, and I landed on a Mocha Burst that I really like. Eventually a Texas Tea joined the family too. Those Ultra guitars do not sound vintage, and that is fine by me, because they are incredibly versatile. Some players are not fans of the noiseless pickups, but even without that old school voice I think they are great. And since I already have the American Professional II models, which still feel modern but lean more traditional in their Telecaster tone, I feel very well covered across the range.

I do have to add the Telecaster Deluxe. One of my favorites when I need more weight for distortion is the Chris Shiflett Telecaster Deluxe. I love the jumbo frets on that, as well as the flatter fretboard 12-inch radius. I full modded that one though. And lastly, I’m busy building a high end partscaster Tele Deluxe using an MIA mahogany crimson red body and a full rosewood Warmoth Tele Deluxe large 70s headstock neck with stainless steel frets.

Why I Still Reach for a Strat Sometimes

Here is the thing. I think a lot of guitarists who play Telecasters are hardcore Telecaster people who almost always play that and nothing else. Then there is a guy like me who jumps between Teles, Strats, and others. I find that for certain sounds I can only get there with a Stratocaster, especially in those in between positions where you blend the neck and middle or the middle and bridge pickups. That sound is just plain funky, and nothing else quite nails it.

That said, when I want more simplicity and a punchy bridge position, I always gravitate back to a Telecaster. A big part of that is honest preference, because I am not a fan of the single coil bridge pickup on a Strat. The Telecaster bridge just hits the way I want it to.

Conclusion

To wrap this up, I think the main reasons I love the Telecaster so much are basically the same reasons everyone who loves this guitar loves it too. They are simple and well balanced, they stay in tune, and they do not bury you in complicated controls. You get a punchy bridge pickup paired with an awesome and very warm neck pickup, and the whole package turns out to be remarkably versatile across just about any kind of music. My first cheap import did not convince me, but everything since has. The Telecaster is not going anywhere in my collection.

Sources for the facts: Fender Telecaster (Wikipedia), Guitar World: The Telecaster at 75, True Vintage Guitar: Broadcaster 1950–1951.

The guitar-related post My Fender Telecaster Collection: Why I Keep Coming Back is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.

The LVX is coming back, and this is the story of why it left and why it has to return.

I’m a Delay Aficionado

I consider myself a delay person first and foremost. I own more big box delay pedals than I do distortion pedals, which probably tells you everything you need to know about where my priorities sit. I appreciate a great reverb too, and I keep a Strymon BigSky around for exactly that reason, but I always gravitate back toward delay. I sprinkle a little reverb into just about everything I play, yet delay is the effect I actually build around. So when I tell you the Meris LVX is special, understand that it is coming from someone who has played a lot of them.

Why I Sold the Meris LVX

The sale had nothing to do with the pedal and everything to do with timing. I was in the middle of a house remodel project and I needed more cash flow to get ready for everything that came with it. The LVX was not the only casualty either. I sold my Meris Mercury X and a handful of other pedals in the same stretch, including a Meris Polymoon that went out the door during that same selling spree. When you are funding a remodel, even the pedals you love start looking like line items. The LVX was worth good money, it sold quickly, and it helped me get where I needed to be.

What Makes the LVX So Inspirational

Meris calls the LVX a modular delay system rather than a delay pedal, and that framing is accurate. Instead of locking you into a fixed set of delay types, it lets you build the delay from the ground up. You get up to 2.54 seconds of dual delay and 26 processing elements you can insert at different points in the signal chain, grouped into modules like preamp, dynamics, filter, and modulation. The delay structures cover Standard, MultiTap, Multi Filter, Poly, Reverse, and Series, and the Poly structure is essentially the Meris Polymoon living inside the LVX. On top of that you choose your delay character from digital, BBD analog bucket brigade, or Magnetic tape style with saturation, degradation, and wow and flutter baked in.

The thing that keeps me coming back is how far down the rabbit hole goes. The LVX inherits algorithms from other Meris pedals such as the Hedra, Polymoon, Enzo, and Ottobit Jr., then adds new ones like Granularize, Cassette, and Poly Pitch. There is a 60 second stereo looper built in, 99 preset locations, full MIDI implementation, and assignable expression control. The whole thing runs on 24 bit conversion with 32 bit floating point processing internally, and you steer all of it with seven knobs clustered around a high resolution color screen. It is a lot. That is the point.

The LVX Versus the Strymon Timeline

People always want the comparison, so here it is. I think the LVX is better than the Strymon Timeline, full stop, though it is a bit more complicated to live with. The Timeline is fast, dependable, and easy to navigate, which is exactly why it earned its reputation. The LVX asks more of you up front, but it gives back delay soundscapes that simply are not possible on the Timeline or most other pedals. They are not really competing for the same job. One is a workhorse and the other is a laboratory.

That difference is why both still have a place for me. My Strymon Timeline lives on its own already built board, ready to go whenever I want something straightforward to work with. Not to mention, it sits before my BigSky and after my Mobius. I’m not willing to break the Stryfecta. There are absolutely days when I want to plug in and play without diving into deep menus. But when I feel like building a delay texture from scratch and chasing a sound nothing else can make, the LVX is the perfect tool. The two pedals answer two completely different moods.

Why It Is Coming Back

I fully expect to buy the LVX again. The plan is to bring it back as part of a dedicated studio build, where the deep settings and sound design potential matter most and where I have the time to actually use them. And if I could get my hands on a special release black version, I would do it in a heartbeat. A black LVX would be the ideal excuse to make the return official. Selling it was the right call for that moment, but the LVX is not a pedal you walk away from for good.

Conclusion

Selling the Meris LVX taught me what I already suspected, which is that some pedals are easy to part with and some leave a hole. The LVX is firmly in the second group. It is one of the most inspiring delay tools ever made, it outclasses the Strymon Timeline for the kind of deep sound design I love, and it earns a permanent spot in my future studio plans. The remodel needed the cash and the pedal delivered, but this was never goodbye. It was just see you soon, ideally in black.

What you probably weren’t expecting is that Meris LVX isn’t actually my favorite delay pedal. It’s actually the Strymon Volante. Yes, I like that one the best for different reasons. I have a story about that: My Favorite Delay Pedal Ever!

The guitar-related post Why I Sold My Meris LVX Delay Pedal is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.

For a long time, buying a guitar pedal meant accepting whatever color the manufacturer had decided on. There was no conversation about it. The MXR Phase 90 was orange. The Boss SD-1 was yellow. The Eventide H9 was white. That was that. But at some point — and it’s hard to pin down exactly when — players started responding to limited colorways with genuine excitement, and manufacturers started paying attention. What followed was a trend that reshaped how pedals get marketed, re-released, and ultimately collected.

The Colorway as a Sales Strategy

The playbook became familiar: release a pedal in its standard color, let it run for a year or two, then drop a special edition in black for Black Friday, or in some unexpected hue tied to a retailer partnership or seasonal campaign. It was a way to revive interest in an existing product without redesigning it. And it worked. Players who already owned the pedal would sometimes buy the new color just to have it. Players on the fence would be nudged off it by the novelty. And a subset of buyers — the collectors — would snap up limited runs knowing they might not come back around.

The collectible angle turned out to be significant. A pedal that trades on the used market at one price in its standard color can command a meaningfully higher price in a limited colorway, especially if that run was small and is no longer available. The Meris Mercury 7 is a good example. It’s a beautiful pedal in its standard blue finish. But Meris at one point issued a black version and didn’t bring it back. That black Mercury 7 now trades for noticeably more on Reverb and eBay than its blue counterpart. The pedal is functionally identical. The color is the whole story.

The Eventide H9: A Case Study in Colorway Evolution

Few pedal lines tell this story as clearly as the Eventide H9 series, because you can watch the strategy evolve in real time across three distinct product generations.

The original H9 launched in white and stayed white for a long time. That’s not unusual for a pedal of its era — a single color, a single identity, a long run. Eventide eventually broke from that pattern with some noteworthy limited editions: a red version produced exclusively for GearHero in Florida (I own two of those, both still on my board), a blue version, and a black version that proved popular enough to see multiple batches. The black H9, in particular, had real staying power — it sold well and kept coming back. But all of this happened over years. The colorway expansion was gradual, almost cautious.

Then came the H90. Eventide’s flagship dual-algorithm pedal launched in the familiar white, continuing the visual language of the H9 line. But the black version of the H90 arrived considerably sooner than it had with the original H9. The timeline had compressed. Whether that reflects a deliberate strategic shift or simply Eventide responding to a market that now expects and anticipates limited colorways is an open question — but the acceleration was noticeable.

The H9 Gen 2: Black From Day One

Which brings us to where things stand now. When Eventide announced the H9 Harmonizer Gen 2, it launched in black. Not as a follow-up colorway. Not as a limited edition drop a year down the road. Black from the start, right out of the gate.

That’s a meaningful departure from a decade of Eventide color convention. The H9 line has been white. The H90 started white. The Gen 2 breaks from both. It’s hard to know exactly what drove that decision — maybe black tests better with current buyers, maybe it photographs better for online listings, maybe it signals the Gen 2 as a distinct product rather than just an update — but it clearly marks a shift in how Eventide is thinking about colorways at launch, rather than as a follow-up play.

What comes next will be interesting to watch. If the Gen 2 eventually gets a white version, a limited retailer run, a special edition tied to a holiday window, the playbook will have simply rotated: black becomes the baseline, white becomes the special. Or Eventide might chart a different path entirely. Either way, the Gen 2 launch is a data point worth noting for anyone paying attention to how color strategy has matured in the pedal industry.

Conclusion

What started as manufacturers trying to squeeze more life out of existing products has become a genuine cultural phenomenon in the guitar world. Limited colorways drive sales, create collectibles, and give players a new reason to talk about pedals they’ve owned for years. The Eventide H9 series didn’t invent this trend, but it has lived through its full arc — from one color for a decade, to gradual limited editions, to a new generation that launches in a color its predecessors never wore. That’s a quietly fascinating evolution, and it says as much about how the pedal market has changed as it does about any single product.

The guitar-related post Eventide H9 Gen 2 Colors: Why Going Straight to Black Changes Everything is original and was published first on SixStringSensei.