The 1976-issued Schaffer­–Vega Diversity SVDS Model X-10 Transmitter & 63EX Receiver system was discontinued in 1981, but a reproduction is now available.

Wireless technology is thriving in all parts of the techno-sphere and it's time for bassists to catch up.

What were the most dangerous times for bassists, guitarists, and singers? Surely the '60s. Not because of wild backstage parties, drug abuse, or high-risk early international travel, but simply because of electrocution caused by amateurish electrical installations with missing grounds.

That's exactly what inspired Leo Fender to develop the TR-105, the first "Wireless Remote Unit," as they called it, back in 1961. Unlike the P-bass, this was really a world's first, but unfortunately a rather unsuccessful one. The unit was directed at guitarists, bassists, and accordionists, and had a radius of 50 feet—enough distance for those pre-arena stage dimensions. It looked surprisingly similar to modern units: a set-top box and a belt pack. Its transmitter, which weighed only 5 ounces, had an impressive frequency range of 20 Hz–75 kHz, while the receiver covered 20 Hz–20 kHz, with 100 to 150 hours of operation on one mercury battery. The system came with a hardcase, weighed 15 pounds, and cost $269.50—roughly $2,500 today. For whatever reason, it didn't catch on and Fender only offered it for around a year.

It wasn't until 1976 that Nasty Cordless, Inc. (later renamed Nady Systems) and Ken Schaeffer's Vega Diversity successfully entered a broader market. Both were analog devices and used a process called companding: a word-mix of compression at the sender side and expansion on the receiver side.

The specialty of the Vega was an integrated audio circuit that was known to colorize tone. This doesn't have to be a bad thing, as AC/DC's Angus Young is still using his today, even in the studio, and sees it as a central device for his signature sound. (See PG's AC/DC Rig Rundown from September 2016.) These systems also had greater operation ranges, so they were good for stadium stages.

Wireless systems got a bad reputation because of their early teething troubles, which included dropouts and problems picking up radio transmissions. Some guitarists really look down on them because of these initial foibles. Today's budget analog wireless systems can have companders with a fixed ratio, and this can make them sound unnatural. Better ones have more natural sounding companders that make it much harder to tell the difference between wired and wireless sounds. And the newer digital systems are even topping these, with their high-quality A/D converters.

In the foreground of today's discussions about wireless systems are most often things like tone, dynamics, range, energy consumption, bandwidth, and dropouts, while electrocution isn't that much of an issue. Although it should be for anyone touring exotic places with lesser-controlled electrical environments.

Today, wireless technology is thriving in all aspects of electronic products, with cables nearly a thing of the past, except among—astonishingly—many musicians who still like to knot and tangle them. As with all things mechanical, cable breakage isn't such a rarity and one might even be tempted to say that newer wireless devices excel in reliability. And—opposed to many early transmitters—they've switched to USB-equipped accumulators and far lower energy consumption. Choosing a system is almost a no-brainer, even though the sheer number of models is vast. With the exception of low-end budget models, almost all units fulfill the criteria of reliability, tone, ease of use, and operational range.

Fender was first in the wireless game with its unsuccessful TR-105 in 1961.

For us bassists, there are a few extra points to keep in mind. Our signal is pretty dynamic, so our wireless system should be as well. Analog wireless systems need to compress the dynamic range of the audio before it can be carried on a radio wave. Not only can this have an impact on tone; it also limits dynamics. Therefore, digital is the way to go, especially since these have a better low-end range.

All those owning basses with active pickups or preamps should check compatibility before buying, plus keep a few other things in mind. It's sometimes not mentioned in a system's spec lists whether it will work with an active instrument's stereo output jacks, due to a TRS-related connection issue that can occur. Output levels of active pickups can be another issue, which is why many devices come with a gain-adjustment at the transmitter. And finally, there can be whining and noise caused by insufficient shielding of the preamp on your bass, once the transmitter is plugged in and close to the electronics housing. To solve that, just look for a cable-equipped belt pack to keep the receiver's antennas farther away from it.

Some other common features to look for are capacity-load cable simulations, which are more directed at guitarists, and durable metal body packs, for the touring artist. Multiple transmitter supports could be nice to have, but are not essential.

Some research will help you find the right system. Don't be afraid to cut the cable! You might enjoy your new freedom to roam the stage.

Made in Canada, this two-voice guitar features a chambered Mahogany body, carved Swamp Ash top, 25.5” scale Mahogany neck and Rosewood Fingerboard.

Godin Guitars launches the Radium-X as part of its high-quality guitar lineup. After over 30 years of hand-crafting award-winning multi-voice guitars, celebrated by players worldwide, we are proud to introduce the Godin Radium-X! Designed to be ultra-versatile, the Godin Radium-X delivers both electric and acoustic tones.

With a Seymour Duncan Jazz SH-2 at the neck and a Bare Knuckle Boot Camp True Grit Zebra at the bridge, the Radium-X is designed to be a powerhouse of tone. This diverse magnetic pickup combo is capable of delivering powerful, warm distortion to clear, glassy tones, appealing to a wide range of players and musical styles. The Radium-X’s stunning acoustic voice comes courtesy of a custom-designed LR-Baggs X-Bridge tremolo with six built-in “HEX” saddle transducers.

A collaboration honoring Grammy-award winner and guitar virtuoso Christone "Kingfish" Ingram featuring his signature humbucking pickups.

"The Kingfish Telecaster Deluxe guitar gives me a sense of comfort when I’m playing across genres; everything from blues to smooth rock, it’s all about versatility. For me, it is important for people to play other genres,” said Christone “Kingfish” Ingram. “One of my favorite features on the Tele are my signature pickups because they’re a solid option for players in all genres. Being a blues player is a beautiful thing, but it’s about more than that. I’ve always been into heavy tones from my influences like Gary Moore and various blues players like Freddy King. I hope this Tele inspires players of all genres to dig in and rock out.”

The Kingfish Telecaster Deluxe guitar has been designed to the artist’s specifications with an emphasis on power and personal flourish. The heart of the instrument is the Kingfish Signature Humbucking Pickups, custom wound for velvety lows, punchy mids and a snarling high end. The custom pickups will also be sold separately, making it that much easier for players everywhere to achieve Christone’s signature tone. Finished in mesmerizing Mississippi Night, the guitar looks as stunning as it sounds and the custom color is more than meets the eye. This mystifying shade of purple harkens back to the deep night skies Kingfish would often marvel at while growing up in Clarksdale, Mississippi. The Kingfish Telecaster Deluxe features an alder body. The “V”-shaped roasted maple neck gives the instrument a distinctly vintage feel and the comfortable 12” radius rosewood fretboard allows for huge bends and scorching riffs up and down the neck. A custom “K & Crown” logo on the pickup covers and Kingfish’s signature autograph on the headstock rounds out the instrument’s personalized touch.

Gain is fun in all its forms, from overdrive to fuzz, but let’s talk about a great clean tone.

We’re all here for one thing. It’s the singular sound and magic of the stringed instrument called the guitar—and its various offshoots, including the bass. Okay, so maybe it’s more than one thing, but the sentiment remains. Even as I write this, my thoughts fan out and recognize how many incarnations of “guitar” there must be. It’s almost incomprehensible. Gut-string, nylon-string, steel-string, 12-string, 8-string, 10-string, flatwound, brown sound, fuzztone…. It’s almost impossible to catalog completely, so I’ll stop here and let you add your favorites. Still, there’s one thing that I keep coming back to: clean tone.

I’ve had the luck and good fortune to work in the studio with Robert Cray, and it was the first time I watched how a human being could split the atom with tone so pure that you could feel it in your blood, not just your gut. It’s a piercing voice like heaven’s glass harmonica. Now, I’ve had fellow musicians turn up their noses when Cray is mentioned, but that’s their problem. I love a saturated guitar—my Analog Man King of Tone cranked way up high in the clouds—but it’s a power trip. I know it’s scarier to get it right when down low and tight. Fearless Flyers tight.

It’s not that I don’t like distortion. I’ve chased saturated and singing sustain all my guitar life. I’ve experienced it all, from big amps with quads of Mullard bottles glowing brightly as they approached meltdown, to tweed combos turned up to a sagging and farting 12. There have been racks full of effects piled upon effects—hushing, squashing, squeezing, chorusing, echoing, and expanding my guitar’s output like some Lego sound transformer. The good, the bad, and the relatively unknown. I even tried building my own amp line with a friend when I was 17 years old just to get what I heard in my head. But when I’m honest with myself, the stinging clean sounds of guitar strings are what move me the most.

When I started playing guitar, clean was about all you could get. If an amp started to distort or feed back, we worried that the amp might burst into flames. I didn’t understand how it worked, but I learned fast. The instruments didn’t ignite, but the sound did. That buzzing, clipping tone hid all my bad finger technique, and I was on my way, squealing and spitting fire from the speakers. The neighbor lady complained to my parents, so, clearly, I was doing something right. It was the power I was looking for in my young life. Clean tone was a thing of the past; long live the square wave on the throne of 16 speakers piled high above the stage.

Many of us have clamored for that thick distorted sound we’ve heard on records and in concerts. Guitarists still curate their collections based upon the building blocks we all discovered during our formative years. It started on the early rock ’n’ roll recordings, when small combo amps got turned up loud to compete with the horns. Bluesmen dimed their amps on Chicago’s Maxwell Street to be heard down the block—good for business. The Brits cranked it up a notch and we players took notice. To some degree, clean was being pushed out. Then, in 1978, “Sultans of Swing” and “Roxanne” came clean. Alongside the slow burning rise of metal, the chiming clarity of the guitar returned to the fray. I’m not trying to build a definitive timeline history of popular guitar sounds here. I’m just merely acknowledging that they ebb and flow. But I always come back to clean.

Even the apex of thick, fat, beefy tone—the PAF humbucker—was and is built for bold hi-fi tone. Its shimmering, articulate clean highs are often lost on period recordings or lousy playback systems. If you doubt it, listen to Michael Bloomfield’s piercing tone on “Albert’s Shuffle” found on the Super Session album. His contemporary, Peter Green, also made extensive use of the clean tones available from his PAF-loaded axe on seminal Fleetwood Mac recordings. Humbuckers can play sweet and clear. It’s worth contemplating that some of the most revered guitar sounds ever committed to record were, in fact, cleaner than we remember. Don’t even get me started with country music.

A lot can be said about practicing guitar with a frighteningly clean sound. Strip away the fuzz and echo and bask in the glory of that stringy, popping, slicing tone that will reward your progress but punish your carelessness. Even after all these years, I’m a sloppy player. But getting it right when all the distortion is put back in the toy box is a scintillating high you can be proud of. It’s just a different addiction. The best part is that when you dial up the dirt again, it feels like flying.