As a dedicated studio rat, I've spent countless hours composing and recording various music genres. Yet, one persistent challenge has been the limited microphone options that genuinely capture the natural sound when directed towards the center of the cone nearby.

My dissatisfaction extends to miking guitar amps on gigs. While some choices, like the long-standing favorite Shure SM57, have their merits, they always produce a harsh sound that I find myself battling within the mix.

The Shure SM57 has maintained its popularity for decades, and good reason. Its affordability, ease of replacement, and ability to handle high sound pressure levels, such as those produced by high-wattage guitar amps, make it a practical choice. For instance, a Marshall non-master volume 100watt amp at full blast is too loud for a ribbon mic placed close to the speaker, but the Shure SM57 can withstand this level of intensity.

But the SM57 can sound harsh and brittle. I fight with its sound every time I use it, as it doesn't sound like how I hear the amp in the room. I always wish I could find a mic that wouldn't make me rush to an EQ in a state of emergency.

Incorporating an EQ into your setup is not just a suggestion; it's necessary for a seamless recording experience.

We use an EQ in several ways, including troubleshooting problem frequencies, tone shaping, filtering, and special effects.

The EQ is at the heart of your mixing and sound sculpting process, followed by a compressor and time-based effects. While other tools may be enticing, the first steps almost always involve EQ and compression.

I've dedicated considerable time delving into the intricacies of classic fuzz tones. To my discerning ears, one fuzz pedal doesn't cover all the sonic ground I seek. I'm meticulous about embracing the diverse characteristics inherent in each era and circuit of fuzz, strategically pairing them with the specific session or gig at hand.

What has captivated my attention is the void in the reproduction of early-era fuzz pedal circuits. In particular, the resonant allure of the original Maestro FZ-1 has enchanted me. My 90s Gibson reissue, crafted during a limited run, has become a rarity to procure.

Unbeknownst to me, amidst this quest, another early fuzz circuit has quietly continued production—the Rush Pepbox, conceived by the circuit designer Pep Rush's daughter, Lucy Rush.

A familial collaboration, Lucy worked alongside her father until his passing, making the Pepbox a testament to generational craftsmanship. In an industry where legacy businesses are a scarcity, this connection to the roots is noteworthy.

When I think of the passage of time, there are tools that I'm surprised haven't evolved sooner. One of those musical tools is the metronome. For many decades, the concept of what a metronome could be seemed cemented.

I'm not trying to imply that the metronome did not evolve. Metronomes with odd time signatures and programmable set lists appeared. Even though those small evolutions happened, one noticeable change hadn't occurred: Feeling a metronome instead of hearing it.

Peterson (the company known for strobe tuners) developed a vibrating accessory to a metronome that would attach to your pants. But it didn't take off for whatever reason and is now discontinued. Players didn't like attaching the vibrating accessory to their belt or felt it was limited to a physical connection to a metronome.

A wide variety of phaser pedals are available, each with unique characteristics and history. One notable figure in the development of phaser pedals is Tom Oberheim, who was also responsible for designing the OB-X synth in the late 1970s.

While the Univibe, created in 1968, can be considered a type of phaser, it doesn't quite capture the distinct phasing tone that became the defining characteristic of phasers.

The term "phasing" initially started being used to describe the tape-flanging effect discovered by engineers in the late 1960s. Still, "flanging" and "phase" took a few more years to define and differentiate clearly.

Learning scales is an essential aspect of every musician's journey. However, there often needs to be more connection between learning scales and the ability to employ them effectively in music.

I have witnessed numerous students diligently memorize scales without comprehending how to apply them to actual musical contexts. They seem to perceive it as a mere ritual they must perform because they were instructed to do so.

But let's not place blame on the students themselves. The emphasis has long been placed on mastering scale positions rather than integrating them musically and meaningfully.

Understanding registers is crucial when working with musicians or in any production scenario. Registers refer to different ranges or sections of the musical spectrum, typically categorized as low, middle, and high. By being aware of these registers, you can troubleshoot issues related to sound balance, clarity, and overall mix quality.

The Ebow was first released on the market in 1976. The Ebow intended to create a string (violins, viola, cello) like sustain on the guitar.

Players skilled in using the Ebow could also emulate stocatto-like effects from a bow and feedback style sounds.

For years it seemed like the Ebow was the only product of its kind on the market. Interestingly, the idea hasn't been expanded over the years.

That is until now. The Sound Stone was created as a more cost-effective version of the Ebow.

Listen to episode 6 of Anatomy of Tone on all podcast outlets including Apple and Spotify.

Regarding guitar effects pedals, the wah-wah pedal stands out as one of the most widely recognized and iconic. Even those unfamiliar with guitars can often identify this distinctive effect, a rarity among effects pedals.

One of the reasons for its widespread recognition is that the wah-wah pedal was among the earliest effects explicitly manufactured for guitars.

The wah-wah pedal dominated the guitar effects scene alongside tremolo and fuzz until the 1970s.

The wah-wah pedal's influence can be heard on countless records by renowned artists such as the Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, Cream, and many others, including prominent funk musicians.

I'm a big fan of the surf genre, which had a short life in the late 1950a to early 1960s. The sound is fun but melancholy, fast but moody.

The early days of surf music were an underground movement. Long before The Beach Boys took over with their polished looks, real edgy characters like Link Wray and Dick Dale built the scene.

I'm a big punk fan, and bands like the Dead Kennedys led me back to discover many original surf bands, such as the Shadows.

I composed a lot of surf music for my Mark Marshall's Future Relics project. The concept is as soon as something is created (which is the future), it becomes the past. So in this project, I time travel to different eras to explore sonically the future of the time.