The interview with Justin in February's
Bassplayer Magazine is now available online. There's a plethora of cool info in this, from insight into his creative process to the
jaw-dropping list off basses and amps he uses:
"Soul of A Robot
Justin Meldal-Johnsen Pushes All The Right Buttons
By Gregory Isola
Best-known as the pedal-pushing onstage foil to alt-rock wonderboy Beck, 33-year-old Justin Meldal-Johnsen has quietly been making inroads into the
L.A. session scene for nearly ten years. Actually, there’s rarely anything quiet about Justin’s playing. Whether he’s fingering effects-laden funk or
punchy honky-tonk with Beck, hot-buttered soul with Macy Gray, grinding angst-rock with Courtney Love, or herky-jerky Devo-tion with his new band, Ima
Robot, Justin makes his presence felt on every track he touches. And while he’s justifiably proud of the chameleon-like skills he’s acquired during
his tenure with Beck, Justin refuses to take his eye off the prize. “It’s all dance music,” he winks. “I make no apologies for that.”
You’ve been closely allied with Beck for several years now. How has performing his music affected your bass playing?
The one overriding element that’s been added to my playing is freedom. When he’s creating, Beck has so much personal liberty; his process is like no
one else’s. In the band I’d been in for a few years before, Medicine, and all of the projects I’d done prior to that, we may have been musically
adventurous, but our process was typical: It involved jamming with people who knew how to play their instruments in a standard way, and maybe we’d
take chances from there. But Beck’s whole thing is just letting go. Music is a very fluid world to him, without a lot of parameters. In his mind, you
don’t have to go through a tollbooth to get from hip-hop to country. His creative process is so elastic, so moment-to-moment, that it’s much more
about his innate emotional response.
As a bass player, what was your initial response to this freedom?
Back in ’96, when I started to play with him, I definitely had to get used to it. It wasn’t a matter of getting into it, because I found it
immediately alluring, but it was a matter of relearning— and unlearning—and letting more primal, less technical, random elements creep into what I was
doing on bass.
A Selected Discography
With Beck: Sea Change, Interscope/Geffen; Midnite Vultures, Interscope/Geffen; Mutations, Geffen. With Ima Robot: Ima Robot, Virgin. With Macy Gray:
The Trouble With Being Myself, Epic. With Air: 10,000 Hz Legend, Source/Virgin. With Tori Amos: (all on Atlantic, except as noted) Tales of a
Librarian; Scarlet’s Walk, Sony/Epic; Strange Little Girls; From the Choirgirl Hotel; Hey Jupiter. With the Mars Volta: De-Loused in the Comatorium,
Strummer/Universal. With Marianne Faithful: Kissin’ Time, Virgin. With Nelly Furtado: Folklore, DreamWorks. With Turin Brakes: Ether Song, Virgin.
With Pete Yorn: Day I Forgot, Columbia. With Michelle Branch: Hotel Paper, Maverick. With Ladytron: Light & Magic, Emperor Norton. With Charlotte
Martin: In Parentheses, RCA. With Lisa Marie Presley: To Whom It May Concern, Capitol. With Brad Mehldau: Largo, Warner Jazz. With Mark Eitzel: Music
for Courage and Confidence, New West. With Medicine: Wet on Wet, Wall of Sound; Her Highness, American. With Jessy Moss: Street Knuckles, DreamWorks.
With Ike Reilly: Salesmen & Racists, Republic. With Dave Allen & the Elastic Purejoy: The Clutter of Pop, World Domination. With On: Shifting
Skin, Sony/Epic. With Electric Company: Studio City, Island. With Amnesia: Lingus, Island.
Justin has also recorded or performed with Daniel Lanois, the Foo Fighters, Emmylou Harris, Frank Black, Willie Nelson, BT, Sasha, Jon Brion, Sean
Lennon, Hanson, Melissa Etheridge, Big Sir, Pulsars, Joshua Kadison, Julieta Venegas, Melanie C, Erica Garcia, DJ Z-Trip, Sierra Swan, and many
others. He appears on upcoming albums from Courtney Love, Nikka Costa, and Charlotte Martin.
He had just finished recording Odelay when I joined him, and he was putting the band together—me, [guitarist] Smokey Hormel, [drummer] Joey Waronker,
and a couple of keyboards players, notably Roger Manning—and we began rendering all of his material for a live format. That’s when I got my first
taste of his liberty. I really had to approach things in a different way, and the consequence is that it has greatly improved the scope of my playing
and my willingness to experiment. It’s been a great improvement—at least in my mind [laughs].
As a corollary, when we’re in a recording environment or even a live setting, he regularly asks me to do things that seem impossible—whether it’s a
tap-dance on some effect pedals or a very gymnastic, non-standard bass part. Those demands helped my musical development in no small terms.
That much musical freedom can be a bit scary.
His approach can be daunting, but my job is to throw away preconceptions and just dive in. For a while, I tried to play what I thought he wanted, but
it’s become much more of a two-way street. We actually contribute to each other’s ideas. Understanding his aesthetic and being able to strike out on
my own is very satisfying.
Plus, Beck has proven time and again that despite initial appearances, he does know where he’s going. He’s got a master plan with every record, with
every song, and it always works. I’ve done three records and a whole bunch of other stuff with him—projects with other artists, tons of B-sides,
unreleased material, and so on—so I’m used to just about anything. I’m ready to go when I’m with him, and it feels really natural, really right.
You said several years ago you’d only be satisfied as a sideman if you could “let the situation carry you away,” and you could get “emotionally
involved in the music.” It sounds like this is still a priority.
Was then, still is.
Does it get tougher to maintain this outlook as the phone rings more and more? Eventually, C***** D*** will call you. Then what?
No! [Long, painful groan.] First of all, people don’t usually call me unless they already know what I do. My phone rings selectively, and I’m lucky to
be in that position. I’m not a “standard” studio bassist, although occasionally I get calls that are very generic. I have to make a living like anyone
else, so I do records that are way more poppy or standard-issue than what I listen to, but I can find the fun in anything.
Generally, though, just being in the studio gets me really stoked. I don’t work every day—I’m often touring or doing other projects—so when I do
session work, it’s never a 9-to-5 job. It still has that air of freshness to me, even after ten years of doing it. I think this saves me from the
grind, from prematurely having integrity issues and all of that. So I head into the studio looking for something to like, something I can contribute
to, something I can ride like a wave and maybe take in my own direction a little. It’s a matter of viewpoint.
Your playing on Macy Gray’s The Trouble With Being Myself is unlike most of your playing with Beck, yet it still sounds like you. How did you compose
for that disc?
Macy and I and a few other people wrote most of that record by jamming. Macy is not dissimilar to Beck in her creative process, even though her music
is quite different. She’s a maverick, and she doesn’t care if you don’t know how to play something; she just wants to hear you try. She wants freedom
and she wants spontaneity.
How did you come up with your parts for Macy’s “When I See You”? The arrangement is pretty straightforward, but your second bass line adds a real
twist.
“When I See You” was a jam. We just played what we felt, and somehow I got the idea to play two different bass lines. For the clean, “standard” part,
I wanted a really dumb, hot, dancy line. Part of my ability to create lines like that comes from playing with Beck. Like any bass player who thinks
he’s good when he’s young, I wanted to overplay. But in adapting my playing to what Beck needed, I learned about taste, timing, space, and simplicity.
Now it comes much more naturally. The original “When I See You” line was really easy; then I went back and added a whole crazy line of fills all over
the track with an Electro-Harmonix Q-Tron envelope filter. The whole thing was just a demo we did it in a cheap studio, but that demo sounded really
hot, and it ended up making it onto the record, and now it’s this big international hit.
“She Ain’t Right for You” is a Motown-style arrangement, the kind James Jamerson just owned.
My line is pretty darn simple, but you’re right about the arrangement. I love those records with all my heart. They were played in my house when I was
a kid, particularly the ’70s Motown: the Jacksons, Gladys Knight & the Pips, and later Temptations and Marvin Gaye. And, man, that stuff just
seeps into you, and you can’t deny it once it’s there. Anyone who listened to those same records as a kid would probably have come up with something
just like I did. You hear some of those chords played on a Wurlitzer, and you’re just naturally inclined to play like that.
Your line in “She Don’t Write Songs About You” is almost sassy, which seems to mirror the vocal. Do you focus on anything specific when you’re
jamming?
No, not at all. I hear a lot of bass players talk about how they listen to the vocals and stuff like that, but I’m just not that subtle. I don’t
really know what I’m listening to. It’s difficult for me to be that conscious while I’m playing. Beck has said things to me like, “I love how you
played that part along with my vocals,” or “I love how we doubled our guitar and bass for that part.” It’s neither here nor there, but I always just
have to say, “You know, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” [Laughs.] I just don’t know what the mirror is that allows me to come up with a
line. It’s just me listening and feeling.
Sometimes if I listen to records I’ve done in the past, I guess I can hear my bass orienting itself to the snare, or following the keyboardist’s left
hand, or a guitar or vocal part. But it’s really all over the map, because I’m not hearing the same thing each time.
How did you start playing with Ima Robot?
When Beck’s Midnite Vultures tour ended in 2001, we were in Japan, and I met these guys who asked me to do a demo with them. Then they said I should
join their band. I thought that was cool, but I had other stuff going on. Eventually, though, more jams resulted in more recordings, and it had a
nice, organic start to it. Then, all of a sudden, we were playing shows, and three months later we were signed. That uncovered in me the undeniable
dream of starting my own band. It became insatiable, and so I knew I had to do it. It’s a real adventure. Joey Waronker—who I conned into joining
me—and I really had to change our viewpoint. The situation is so different from much of our other work. It’s not exactly five-star hotels and
business-class flights and tons of bread or anything; it’s rough and ready, shitty clubs and bars, and circumstances that are normally reserved for
young, ambitious people who aren’t married with mortgages!
Career File
1970 Born March 26 in Eugene, Oregon
1988 Gets job as production coordinator for string arranger David Campbell; meets David’s son, Beck Hansen
1988–90 Studies at Faunt School of Creative Music in Studio City, California
1988–94 Plays in local bands and begins session work
1995 Works with Dave Allen & the Elastic Purejoy as studio bassist and live guitarist
1995-96 Joins noise-rock band Medicine; plays on the group’s third album, Her Highness
1995 Plays on Hey Jupiter, the first of five recordings with Tori Amos
1996 Joins Beck’s touring band prior to the release of Beck’s Odelay
1998 Records Beck’s Mutations
1999 Records Beck’s Midnite Vultures
1996–2001 Records sessions with Frank Black, BT, Sean Lennon, Pulsars, On, Scapegoat Wax, Mark Eitzel, Jamiroquai, and others
2001 Following Beck’s Midnite Vultures tour, records demo with Ima Robot, then joins the band
2001–03 As a working session musician, records with Air, Nelly Furtado, Marianne Faithful, the Mars Volta, Lisa Marie Presley, Turin Brakes, Ladytron,
and others
2002 Records Beck’s Sea Change
2002 Co-writes and plays on Macy Gray’s 2003 album The Trouble With Being Myself
2003 Records sessions for forthcoming albums from Courtney Love, Beck, Nikka Costa, and Charlotte Martin
2003–04 Tours in support of Ima Robot’s self-titled debut
Why bother?
That was a question I was getting from a lot of my peers, even if it was often unspoken. But I believe in the music, and it’s mine. I figure, Why not?
I’m still young, and I want to do something that’s mine, something I’m wholly and entirely responsible for. And that’s what I love about it. I like
being consulted on T-shirt designs and where to tour next and the video budget. I love that detail, and I get off on juggling all of that stuff. Also,
it’s crazy, but I still really enjoy touring.
The Ima Robot record is full of mechanical, almost Devo-style grooves. It’s almost the opposite of the Macy Gray disc.
It’s a matter of the circumstances dictating an approach. My contribution to Ima Robot is the net result of the things that get me off more than
anything: ’70s and ’80s art-rock, post-punk, and new wave. That’s where I’m at, and this is my chance to play that stuff. It’s me wearing my heart on
my sleeve and not being afraid to show my influences.
With Macy, I’m in the room with her. That brings out a different side of me from the one that shows when I’m in the room with Joey and the Ima Robot
guys. I don’t know if it’s unique, but I know it’s not difficult for me to jump all over the map. Call this glib, but I have just as much love for
earthy, Motown-influenced soul and R&B and hip-hop as I do for jerky, New York, no-wave, deconstructionist art music. I like all that shit. I’m
just thankful that I have an ability to play it all.
Not to obsess over the ’80s thing, but your line in “Dirty Life” sounds an awful lot like something John Taylor would have played.
[Laughs.] Guilty as charged, no doubt. Let me put it to you this way—playing along with Duran Duran records was one of the best things I did when I
first started playing bass. I got a bass when I was 11 or 12, and the first two Duran Duran records, along with MTV’s earliest days, were the first
things to influence me as a bass player. Even now, a lot of what I do, in spite of the varying styles, ends up in the realm of dance music. So the
lasting John Taylor influence is inevitable. I even copied his tone on that track! The tone I got from my Wal bass was just so evocative of his
playing, and that period, that I loved it right away.
Beyond playing ability, does being a session bassist require different skills than being an effective bandmember?
The thing that gets me off more than anything is the group, and I think that’s what makes me effective in the studio. I enjoy bands; even when I walk
into a studio to record with someone I’ve never met, I’m always trying to be a part of something, and to make the group experience a fun one. I think
I’ve made some artists quite happy, because they thought they were going to get a more conventional session musician—one who doesn’t necessarily care
a lot about what’s going on around him. As long as they’re courteous and nice, those guys can be great. But I’m looking for more from a situation. I
want the interaction between the artist, the producer, the engineers, and the musicians. I like to turn it into a party, fun and free. I like to think
my approach has created opportunities for artists to be more themselves, because they don’t feel like there’s this guy in the room who is just
punching the clock and not really making an aesthetic investment of value beyond simply the notes he’s playing.
More people should be making records by playing as a band. It gives the songs such a great feel. It’s scary how much people are relying on the
computer in the studio, but I do see a positive trend developing. I talk to other bass players who do lots of cool records—Mike Elizondo, Chris
Chaney—and they’re experiencing a nice shift in attitude, too. Make the situation feel good and then get good takes. Everyone knows it makes the song
feel better, and everyone knows bass lines go down better when you’re actually playing with a drummer and doing whole takes. The computers are great—I
work in a Pro Tools studio—but you can get better stuff by going easy on the crazy computer editing and focusing more on an organic studio environment
and good takes. Just work a little harder and play good.
I’ve been in situations where the producer and artist don’t know each other that well, and if I see that they’re not necessarily firing on all
cylinders, I get up and work my way into their rapport. I don’t want to make crappy recordings; I want to make lasting records. No matter who it is,
five or six people in a room have the potential to make great recordings if they can put aside expectations and create music for music’s sake. If you
can get everyone feeling each other and really listening to each other and just playing for fun, magic is inevitable. It’s a classic way to make
records, and the results speak for themselves. That’s why it will always be the best way to record.
Music Lesson
From Robo To Retro
Are there common denominators to Beck sessions, given that the music is so varied?
Recording with Beck is always an adventure. Midnite Vultures took nine months to record, and it was great. But Sea Change and Mutations took three
weeks. With Mutations, Nigel Godrich, the producer, simply didn’t have any more time, so he developed a method of tracking and mixing in the same day.
We’d come in at 11:00, learn the tune if we didn’t already know it, rehearse it a little, and then record a live take with the whole group before
adding vocals if we needed them. After that, we’d break for dinner while Nigel did a mix. We’d all go in and help finish the mix after dinner,
sometimes with six or eight hands on the board. We did a song a day that way, and it ended up working so well, we did the same thing when we
reconvened to cut Sea Change, even though Nigel had more time then. We cut 15 songs in 18 days, and that includes two songs with live strings. I love
that these classic, non-Pro Tools methods are still valid. The key is that you’re forced to make split-second decisions about what’s good for the song
and what isn’t. You need to figure out right now if you’re going to try something else or move on. Don’t wait, ’cause we’re mixing the whole song in
two hours! It was really refreshing.
What basses have you been playing in the studio lately?
I recorded the Ima Robot record primarily with my Gibson Thunderbird, which I put together from a bunch of different parts: some old ’70s pickups,
Badass bridge, Hipshot tuners, a new nut—it’s a real Frankenstein. I ended up making a couple of them, since they sound so good and play so great. I
played a few parts on that record with my Wal basses, too. I have a Mark I—it’s the classic Wal: 4 strings, 21 frets, chrome tuners, really basic.
They cost a fortune, but they have such cool character. I have a late-’70s Wal, too, a Pro IIE. I also used my American Standard Fender Precision on a
couple of songs. It’s just one of the $700 or $800 basses, but it sounds amazing, with that wonderful low-end pillow and grind you want from a P-Bass.
I used it a lot on Beck’s Sea Change and the Macy Gray record, too.
You continue to use as many effects as humanly possible, but they don’t sound gimmicky in your hands. How do you integrate so many sounds into your
playing?
First of all, there’s an undeniable totem-istic collector aspect to gathering pedals. You buy one, and then you want more. It’s an infatuation. But
it’s important to remember that you can always turn them off and just play clean bass. I’m schizophrenic, though; I can’t shake the need to make all
sorts of noises.
It’s all about the combinations for me. I do a lot of tap-dancing, so you’re never hearing the sound of just one pedal. I’m constantly trying to make
the bass do different things, and for me that started with Wire’s Graham Lewis and New Order’s Peter Hook. When I heard those Roxy Music records with
those amazing guitar sounds, I was inspired. I started putting pedals on my bass from a very young age. I have to exercise taste and let the
circumstances dictate, though, because I’m inclined to step on a lot of pedals. I can’t go into a Courtney Love session making bleeps and bloops that
sound like an analog synth, but sometimes I do get to throw taste out the window. And I do like noise. I like making a diabolical racket.
Justin‘s Jewels
Justin Meldal-Johnsen owns nearly 50 basses but uses only about three dozen regularly. Here’s his list of go-to axes, with a few of his comments:
Engelhardt ES-1 Supreme upright, with K&K Bass Master Pro pickup system
’78 Electra MPC Outlaw, brown sunburst (“A ridiculous bass for the cybernetic Southern rocker in everyone, complete with modular, onboard effects.”)
’67 Fender Coronado, wildwood green
Fender 1975 Jazz Bass Reissue, black/maple
Fender 1964 Jazz Bass Custom Shop Reissue Closet Classic, sunburst/rosewood (“My main live bass with Beck for years. Those Fender Custom Shop boys do
amazing things.”)
Fender Mustang, Olympic white/rosewood
Fender American Standard Precision, black/maple (“My favorite P-Bass—a pure, lovely rock tone.”)
’75 Fender Precision, root beer brown/maple (“Sounds like a funky cardboard box. Not much sustain and a classic, old tone.”)
Fender 50th Anniversary Precision Reissue, blond/maple
Fender 1951 Precision Reissue, natural/maple
’74 Gibson Ripper, natural/maple
Gibson Thunderbird, natural (“My main live bass with Ima Robot. It’s got a nice growl and it’s very loud. T-birds have thin necks that are a lot of
fun.”)
Gibson Thunderbird, pelham blue
Gibson Thunderbird, natural sunburst
’79 Gibson RD Artist, natural/maple
’86 Gibson 20/20, silver
Guild Ashbory
Guild B30E acoustic bass guitar, natural
Guild Starfire, transparent red (“This one is beat to shit, but it just records and plays wonderfully. Palm-mute with a pick and you’re done.”)
Guild Starfire, natural
’71 Guild JS100, transparent brown (“Endless booty—got airtime on Macy’s record. Plays badly, but I don’t mind.”)
’73 Guild M-85, transparent brown
Hofner Club hollowbody, sunburst (“Good for a deep fundamental with a pseudo-upright flavor; has the classic Hofner tone.”)
Lakland Duck Dunn Signature, three-tone sunburst/maple
Lakland Hollowbody, sherwood green (“The best-playing hollowbody I’ve ever met, with a flexible sound. Lakland has something special going on.”)
’77 Ovation Magnum II, transparent brown
Rickenbacker 4003, fireglo
Two Roland G-77 Synth Basses, white (“A Beck live staple, mainly for the silly look. Luckily it sounds okay. I’ve got a Guyatone MD-2 delay pedal
taped onto one.”)
Fretless Schecter Traditional J-style, black/rosewood
Schecter Hellcat 8-string, black
Schecter Hellcat 4-string, metallic blue
’83 Steinberger L2, black (“I bought this on a lark, but it turned out to be a cool-sounding bass that simply cannot break, even when thrown at the
drummer.”)
’79 Wal Pro IIE, natural
Wal Mark 1 Custom, African shedua (“This is my favorite bass overall. It’s hard to put down, because it has an undeniable magic. I’m scared to tour
with it!”)
Wal Mark I Custom, olive ash
Yamaha BB3000, wine red burst
Justin uses D’Addario chrome flatwounds on the Fender Coronado and 50th Anniversary Precision, Gibson RD Artist, the Lakland Duck Dunn Signature and
Hollowbody, the Ovation Magnum, and the Guild Starfires and M-85; he strings the ’75 Fender Precision, Fender Mustang, and Guild Jazz 100 with
D’Addario Half Rounds, and uses D’Addario XL 160 .050–.105 nickel roundwounds on everything else except for the Hofner, which has its original Pyramid
flatwounds.
Live, Justin uses two Ampeg SVT-4PRO heads; one drives two SVT-410HLF cabinets, while the other runs bridge-mono into an SVT-18E cab. He goes direct
to the house mixer with an MXR M-80 DI+. “That DI is the first one I’ve used with a musical-sounding EQ, which is very handy, especially in sketchy
venues.” Justin has a pile of amps and cabinets and a rack full of effects he takes into the studio for recording. They include:
Amps & Cabinets
Ampeg B-15R flip-top tube combo
Ampeg B100R solid-state combo
Ampeg SVT tube head
Ampeg SVT-810 cabinet
Aguilar GS 112 cabinet
Mesa/Boogie Walkabout amplifier
Mesa/Boogie 1x15 cabinet
SWR Redhead combo
Studio Rack
API 560 graphic EQ
API 525 compressor
API 312 mic preamp/DI
Empirical Labs Distressor
compressor
Line 6 Bass PODxt Pro
Moog Three-Band Parametric EQ
MXR M-80 Bass DI+
Tech 21 SansAmp Bass RBI
“I just bring everything down to a session, unless someone has a specific request. Generally, my sound is based on the Ampeg B-15, which does
everything just right. [Producer] Nigel Godrich likes to record that amp with no DI, and it comes out nice and big. On other occasions I use my rack
as a sort of overblown DI, which lets me get very specific about carving up the tone; the approach can range from a heavily altered sound to a simple
and organic one. On Ima Robot I used the B-15 along with an MXR M-80 Bass DI+ and a Marshall JTM-45 head feeding a Fender ToneMaster 2x12 cabinet.
Those three sources were mixed together in various combinations, depending on what the song required. During the mixing, the tracks were time-aligned
to take care of the inherent phase problems between the DI and two amp tracks, since the amp tracks always went to tape a number of milliseconds more
slowly than the DI.”
Onstage or in the studio, Justin pushes more pedals than the Tour de France. Here are three of his favored pedalboard setups:
Ima Robot (stage and studio)
Tech 21 SansAmp GT2, Boss HM-2 Heavy Metal distortion, Krauser Audio Prunes & Custard harmonic generator/intermodulator, Boss OC-2 Octave,
Guyatone PS-3 Phase Shifter, Guyatone MD2 Digital Delay, Boss TU-2 tuner/mute, Z. Vex Wooly Mammoth fuzz, ’80s Ibanez modulation delay, Line 6 DL4
Delay Modeler
Beck (live setup)
Tech 21 SansAmp GT2, Boss HM-2 Heavy Metal distortion, Krauser Audio Prunes & Custard, Boss OC-2 Octave, Guyatone phaser, Guyatone MD2 delay, Boss
tuner/mute, Z. Vex Wooly Mammoth fuzz, ’80s Ibanez modulation delay, Line 6 delay, MXR Auto-Q, Electro-Harmonix BassBalls (“a fixture on Beck
records”), Tube Works Blue Tube distortion, Boss GE-7 graphic EQ with presets (“great w/multiple basses”)
General studio setup
SansAmp GT2, Boss Heavy Metal distortion, Krauser Audio Prunes & Custard, Boss OC-2 Octave, Guyatone phaser, Guyatone MD2 delay, Boss tuner/mute,
Z. Vex Wooly Mammoth fuzz, ’80s Ibanez modulation delay, Line 6 DL4 delay modeler, Electro-Harmonix Bass MicroSynth, Moogerfooger ring modulator, Z.
Vex Fuzz Factory distortion, Ibanez Bimode chorus, Roger Linn Adrenalinn II
“In the studio, the problem with using all these damn pedals is they really affect your sound. They take away gain and strip away low end and on and
on. It’s bad. So a lot of people use expensive, Bradshaw-style switching systems—but I had the folks at Pedal-Racks [www.pedalboards.com] build me a
box that has ten effect loops in it, with hard-bypass switches. It’s about an inch thick and three feet across, and has all of these switches and
LEDs. It’s a godsend! You just plug each pedal into a different loop, stomp on each of ’em so the lights are lit, and then you can activate them
individually via the loop box. You don’t deal with the pedal itself anymore, and the bass isn’t running through every pedal all the time; you’re
sending your signal only through the pedal you’re using at the moment. Also, there’s a mute switch for tuning and one button that bypasses everything,
so you can still get your perfectly clean sound. It’s great for session work especially. I was always envious of guys with crazy racks and switching
systems, but this box does the same thing, in a much more budget-conscious way.”
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