Chase Bliss Bliss Factory

A reader of the Jounal sent me a surprise pedal in a return parcel.
I must admit that I am a wee bit scared. I tried to familiarize myself with the manual, but it IS quite complicated. A joint venture by Chase Bliss and, of all brands, Zvex.
I installed a couple of emergency circuit breakers and brought the dog over to the neighbors next village before plugging it in.

I guess I’ll find out if that reader is a benevolent spirit or an evil one,
but I suspect they have their fingers in a steeple and are cackling with mad laughter by now.

Alas, having had a few beers at band practice, I have the right mix of ignorance and fearlessness to tackle the beast.

Imagine going to the stables, finding someone who works there and then point at a wild mustang and request to ride it.
They say: “But this horse has never been ridden!”
You say: “And I’ve never sat on a horse. It seems like a fair match”.
The feeling when they let go of the bridles and the horse cannons off, with you on top, clinging to the pommel for sheer life, trying to learn all the relevant bits of horsemanship within the next second or two.

Imagine the grassy hill within the woods where the stables are beautifully located just at the side of a stream with water so clear you could fill it in bottles and sell it for a premium. Imagine the birdsong. Sounding like terror. Because the grass is not grass, but millions of snakes and the trees are actually on fire. All the wood and the stables are on fire. And the snakes are on fire and your horse is on fire and you are on fire.

Having had my fair share of liquid bravery, I decided for the manly way of doing this. I had forgotten basically everything I read in the manual, but instead of a quick refresher I tossed those sissy papers in the wind and decided to find out what the knobs and switches do by tinkering around with them. I was told to use a passive bass and turn down the volume lots to start. Good advice, which I luckily heeded.
They let go of the bridles and I shot off, riding on the back of the Bliss Factory, holding on to the knobs and switches, for dear life.

It was not as bad as the one where everything is on fire, though. I did not understand a single thing I was doing, only that there are weird interactions happening with the knobs. They influence each other in meaningful ways I have yet to discover. I ended up with a sound that might be the result when you set your phaser from stun to kill and then repeatedly shoot an analog synthesizer. You could not really stop playing because the way the notes were choked at the end felt unnerving, and moving up and down the neck there was some fat warmth to be found. It was not cozy fat and warm. It was still rather threatening. I could see using that for synth setups, especially because it is quite brutal with the gain and you have a lot of range covered on the knob of your bass. There is a drastic increase in basically everything (pleasant and VERY unpleasant in equal measures), and there is a lot of it.
I am a bit stunned and at the loss for words now.