TuninG uP
A Stroll Down Amplifier Lane BY SHAWN HAMMOND
This couldn’t really be billed as an “Amp Issue”
if I didn’t go on and on here
about amps, now could it?
But I promise I won’t blab
too much about how an amp
arguably does more for your
tone than anything else in your
signal chain. That’s all true—
after all, it’s the last thing in
that chain and it broadcasts
the signal for all to hear—but
what I want to do here instead
is talk a little about the stories
our amps tell. Because our gear
choices do tell a lot, sometimes
more after they’re gone than
when we have them.
My first amp was a little
solid-state Peavey Backstage
Plus 1x12 combo. The year
was 1984, and the amp lasted
less than a day. Not because it
blew up or died, but because
I’d purchased it at a big annual
sale at Herger Music in Provo,
Utah, where I’d also bought
my first electric guitar—a two-knob 1983 Fender Strat. Mere
hours afterward, the store had
a drawing for a door prize and
I ended up winning the grand
prize, a solid-state Marshall
Master Lead Combo. I was 12
and had begun playing acoustic guitar a year before, which
ticked off the older second-prize winner (he got a Tom
Scholz Rockman Soloist) to no
end. He’d played for years, and
there I was—this skinny little
kid, a foot or two shorter—
stealing the cooler prize away.
And to add injury to insult, my
bandaged-up broken thumb
(caused by a gnarly attempt at
Evel Knievel-style BMX biking)
made it impossible to play for a
while—yet more reason for the
runner-up to scowl.
The people who ran Herger
were cool enough to let me
return the Peavey, and for
the next couple of years that
Marshall broadcast my stilted,
out-of-tune, rhythmically
challenged parts in my first
band—an originals power trio
with very little in the way of
actual power. The concept of
master volume versus standard
volume knobs was somewhat
foreign to me then, because I
didn’t really know anyone else
who played guitar except my
teacher at the music shop.
Metal and, later, a Digi Tech
PDS1550). And catching snippets of interviews with guitarists like Joe Satriani talking
about using a JC- 120 for clean
tones just prolonged the time
till I discovered tube tones.
A slight tonal turning point
finally came when I started
going to clinics put on by
visiting shredders at local
shops. Players I’d read about,
like Paul Gilbert and Frank
Gambale. Players who seemed
to be reawakening to at least
half of the truth about great
guitar sounds. Players extolling
the virtues of new 12AX7-
powered digital preamps
like the ADA MP- 1, which
I bought and ran through
the JC- 120. (Yes, I ran a
metal-head preamp through a
squeaky-clean, jazz-cat amp.
Theoretically, it seemed like
pure genius.)
Toward the end of the ’80s,
6-stringers finally seemed to
remember en masse that great
tones usually come from all-tube amps—an awakening
due, no doubt, to the success
of Guns N’ Roses’ old-school
renaissance. I couldn’t afford
one for a while after that, but
after graduation I finally got
half of the amp rig used by my
(then) newfound hero, Eric
Johnson. His Ah Via Musicom
convinced me a Fender Twin
and a Marshall plexi were the
keys to amazing tone, but I
could only afford the former so
I got a ’ 65 reissue and a Hughes
& Kettner Tubeman pedal to
drive its front end.
But the awakening wasn’t
complete till a bit later when
I realized that pedal-generated
distortion could never compete
with what other power tubes
could generate in amps with less
headroom and a different tube
topology. Soon afterward, I
went on a bit of an amp-buying
spree: I experimented with an
EL34-powered Bedrock combo,
and EL84s in a VHT Pittbull
50/12 and a Matchless SC30.
A little later, I foolishly let
myself swoon over a pricey
digital-recording system,
selling my rare Matchless
Skyliner Reverb to bankroll it.
Next up was a 6L6-powered
Reverend Hellhound, then
had a short-lived trial with a
Line 6 Flextone II modeling
amp before grabbing a plexi-voiced Budda Superdrive 30 II,
and then a fantastic-sounding
Fender ’ 65 Deluxe Reverb, a
silverface Fender Vibro Champ,
a Laney VC30, and now a
Goodsell Valpreaux 21.
For the most part, all these
amps sounded great, and each
successive one was either an
improvement in sound or at
least a new adventure that
helped me narrow down my
aural ideal. Many of them I
wish I still had, although I have
to say that I’ve never been happier about my amp tone than I
am now—and it’s lasted longer
than with any other amp, too.
Here’s to your amp adventures in this issue, those in your
past, and those in the future.
And if you feel like sharing
them, please write me.
Shawn Hammond
shawn@premierguitar.com
