Today we’re taking a look at a head-to-head battle between two of the most popular fuzz pedals ever to appear on the channel: the TC Electronic Rusty Fuzz and the Behringer Fuzz Bender.
Between them, these two budget-friendly fuzz boxes have racked up around 80,000 views here alone — they’ve been absolute monsters for the channel. And honestly, it makes sense. Unlike overdrives or boosts, cheap fuzz is notoriously unpredictable. Sometimes you strike gold… sometimes you get a fizzy cardboard box pretending to be a pedal. Both of these, thankfully, fall firmly into the “gold” category. They’re both vintage-leaning, silicon-style fuzzes trying to capture that classic 60s/70s fuzz attitude — but they take very different routes to get there.
TC Electronic Rusty Fuzz
The Rusty Fuzz is built around a classic three-knob layout: Fuzz, Volume, and Tone. That Tone control is a huge plus — lots of old-school fuzzes don’t bother with any EQ shaping, which makes the Rusty a bit more flexible right out of the gate.
The fuzz sweep is genuinely usable from bottom to top. You don’t run into that classic “nothing… nothing… OH NO TOO MUCH” problem. And one of its biggest strengths is how well it works into a clean amp. If you’re running a pristine platform and want to add some vintage rasp on top, the Rusty does that beautifully.
Behringer Fuzz Bender
The Fuzz Bender takes a much more stripped-back approach. Just two knobs and a mode switch — the infamous “goose mode,” as we jokingly called it in the original demo. For fairness, we kept things in standard mode today. No geese were harmed in the making of this video.
Now, the Fuzz Bender is a bit temperamental at low settings. Until you really push the fuzz knob, it gives you a starved, underpowered splutter — like the transistors are begging for electricity. Very authentic to vintage behaviour… but not exactly versatile. Once you crank it, though, it hits that snarling Tone Bender-style voice it’s going for, and that’s where it really shines.
This is a pedal that rewards playing dynamics, guitar volume roll-offs, and intentional tone control use. It doesn’t do everything — but the one thing it does do, it does very well. And just like the originals, it absolutely comes alive when you push it into an already breaking-up amp.
So which one wins?
Both pedals are fantastic in their own lanes. The Rusty Fuzz gives you flexibility, usability, and a more controlled take on vintage fuzz. The Fuzz Bender is pure attitude, raw edge, and classic Tone Bender chaos — but with the quirks that come with it.
As always, the point of these Versus videos isn’t for me to crown a winner — it’s for you to decide.
So head over to the Community tab on YouTube and cast your vote. Let everyone know which fuzz takes the crown for you.
The Affordaboard 800 is the latest in a long line of pedals aiming to capture the magic of one of the most iconic amps ever made. If there’s a single circuit that has inspired the most “amp-in-a-box” efforts over the years, the JCM800 has to be right up there. I’m not going to pretend I’ve done the hard maths, but it certainly feels like every second drive pedal released in the last two decades has tried to bottle that unmistakable roar. And for good reason — the JCM800 defined an era. It became the sound of hard rock and cemented Marshall’s reputation as the go-to brand for big, authoritative tone.
Now, let’s not talk about some of Marshall’s more questionable modern decisions… that’s a discussion for another day.
The issue with many older “Marshall-in-a-box” pedals is how one-dimensional they can be. They often fixate on the high-gain side of the amp, giving you that saturated, mid-pushed crunch but not much else. The less refined ones also tend to rely heavily on compression and sheer saturation, which can sound fun in isolation but leaves you buried in a live mix.
The Affordaboard 800 takes a different, far more refined approach. Rather than jumping straight to the high-gain party, the focus here is on the pushed clean tones and low-gain growl that made early Marshall tones so expressive.
Across the gain sweep, the dynamics stay impressively intact. At lower settings you get that classic jangly, slightly gritty Marshall push that responds beautifully to pick attack. Increase the gain and it transitions into a muscular crunch — proper classic rock territory. Max it out and you’re right into hot-rodded NWOBHM tones, with shades of Maiden and Priest baked right in. It’s the sort of gain that feels big but never messy.
The tone control is dialled in exceptionally well. Lower settings give you a satisfyingly thick low-end that supports the gain without becoming flabby, while higher settings introduce a crisp top-end that cuts without ever getting shrill. That balance is harder to nail than people think, and Affordaboard have absolutely found the sweet spot.
At around £80, the 800 is extremely easy on the wallet — especially considering it’s handmade in the UK. The enclosures are printed in the UK too, meaning the pedal supports two small British businesses in one go. For a boutique-leaning, hand-built pedal, that’s a seriously impressive price point.
Affordaboard launched with the Supersonic and the Filthy Rat, and both of those came out swinging. The 800 keeps that momentum going, and based on the trajectory so far, it doesn’t look like the brand plans on slowing down any time soon. They’re very much one to watch.
The Walrus Fundamental series is something I’ve been aware of for a while, but I’ve not really paid much attention to Walrus pedals as a whole. Not because they lack impact or quality — far from it — but simply because they tend to sit outside my usual budget-pedal playground. They’ve built a devoted fanbase and consistently release excellent gear. I just let them go about their boutique business while I rummage around in the bargain bins.
That changed when Walrus announced the Fundamental Series, their take on the stripped-back, affordable format (as was the style at the time, in glorious Abe Simpson voice). This was, of course, made popular when JHS dropped the 3 Series . Wampler soon followed with the Collective Series. Suddenly, “budget-friendly but properly designed” became a trend — and Walrus jumped in with their own signature twist.
The most immediately noticeable difference?
Sliders instead of knobs.
It seems minor, but it’s actually the first clue that Walrus weren’t content to just make a cheaper line of pedals. The sliders give it a studio rack-style vibe and hint at the thoughtful engineering lurking inside. It’s a tiny detail, but it foreshadows the surprising level of care they’ve put into the Fundamentals despite their more than reasonable price point.
And that brings us to today’s pedal: the Walrus Fundamental Ambient Reverb.
With a name like “Ambient,” you’d expect big, atmospheric trails and modulated texture — not usually my realm. I’m a subtle reverb kind of person. A little space, a little sparkle, and I’m good. Big ambient washes don’t tend to get me all that excited.
So my excitement levels were running low when I first went to plug this one in.
And I was completely wrong.
This thing is fantastic.
Deep Mode
The first mode I tried was Deep, going in completely blind with no manual reading, no prep. As I mentioned before, I wasn't really vastly excited so I had a bit of apathy going on, but also I do like to respond to the pedal naturally instead of having a preconceived idea of how I should be playing it.
Deep mode is huge. Thick. Cavernous. There’s an ominous low-end presence that immediately transforms your guitar into something vast and cinematic. It feels like you’re playing in some ancient underground cathedral.
Only after checking the manual did I realise why: there’s a low octave subtly blended into the reverb trail, adding that subterranean rumble without overwhelming your actual tone.
It’s clever. It’s tasteful. And it sounds gorgeous straight out of the gate.
Lush Mode
Where Deep is dark and brooding, Lush is the complete opposite — airy, breathy, bright.
There’s a synth-like, pad-like quality to this mode that feels weightless. Subtle use gives you a really smooth, expanded everyday reverb, but push the mix and it becomes a full-on feature of your tone. This is proper cinematic ambience, with the top end shimmering beautifully instead of getting icy or artificial.
It’s incredibly musical and very easy to lose yourself in. In fact, this mode was the one we opted for recently over on Pedalboards of Doom when doing a live stream. Absolutely blooming glorious tone it was, worth checking out at least.
Haze Mode
At first, Haze seems like the more neutral of the three — not as cavernous as Deep, not as ethereal as Lush. But the longer you play with it, the more the subtle grit and texture reveal themselves.
A quick glance at the manual confirms it: Haze is a lo-fi reverb with reduced sample rate and added crispy grit.
It’s a character verb through and through — slightly degraded, slightly warped, beautifully imperfect. Pair it with a vibrato pedal and you can get a deliciously warped-vinyl sheen to your playing.
Final Thoughts
I genuinely wasn’t expecting to enjoy this pedal as much as I did. I walked into this review thinking it would be just another day at the office, but the tones are so well-crafted that they forced me to take notice.
What impressed me most was the subtlety. Plenty of budget brands throw in modulation or pitch effects, but they’re usually blunt tools — incredibly noticeable. Here, the low octave in Deep mode was so well-integrated that I only realised what was happening after reading the manual. It enhances the reverb without taking over, and that level of finesse is what sets Walrus apart.
The Fundamental series could easily have been generic circuits with minor tweaks and a Walrus badge slapped on. They’d still have sold well. But Walrus clearly aren’t about that life. They’ve put real thought, engineering, and musicality into these pedals, giving the Fundamentals the same care and attention as their flagship line.
It’s a smart move — because if the budget pedals sound this good, what’s the main line going to be like?
Walrus, you have my attention now.
I suspect I’ll be picking up a few more Fundamentals before long.
If you'd like one of your own and also to support the channel whilst doing so, consider my affiliate link below: https://thmn.to/thoprod/588240?offid=1&affid=2735
The Joyo R-Series has always impressed me. I’ve tried a few on the channel — from the Klon-inspired Tauren to the fire-breathing Uzi — and they’ve all punched well above their weight in terms of tone and build quality. So, when Joyo got in touch and asked if I wanted to try out the Baatsin, I jumped at the chance.
As a bonus, a few of you in the comments had already been recommending it, while others were asking when I’d be getting around to it — so this one was definitely for the fans (and a little bit for me too, I do love a good overdrive).
The big draw of the Baatsin is its 8-way rotary control, which lets you flick through eight different overdrive voices. It’s essentially a tour through some of the most iconic drive circuits ever made — from Tube Screamer and Timmy territory to heavier hitters like the Riot and OCD.
Rather than give a blow-by-blow on every mode, I’ll focus on a few highlights that really stood out.
8 Drives in One Box
T.OD – Timmy Territory The T.OD mode is based on the Paul Cochrane Timmy, and although it lacks the original’s two-band EQ and toggle switch, it’s probably the most versatile mode on the pedal.
You can take it from a barely-there, gritty boost to a thick, saturated crunch that feels dynamic and touch responsive. The single tone control is voiced beautifully — it never gets mushy at the low end, nor does it stray into harsh, ice-pick territory when pushed. It’s just right.
B.Boost – Clean, Clear, and Pushing Hard
If you want to use the Baatsin purely as a clean boost, this is your mode. B.Boost strips back most of the clipping, giving you more headroom and a noticeable increase in volume.
It’s perfect for slamming the front of your favourite overdrive or amp — pushing a crunchy clean into that glorious edge-of-breakup zone without colouring your tone too much. You can also use it to push an already pretty cooking tone up to eleven. It’s a very usable and versatile boost.
Overdrive 1 – Classic Rock Energy
The Overdrive 1 mode has a gain structure that stands out from the rest. The user manual subtlety (ha!) hints at it's Boss origins and this one just has a different kind of vibe to the rest. The grit was a bit more raw and raucous, less of that typical overdrive mid-range character . For me, this one ended up being a personal favourite.
Rioter – Suhr Sound Without the Price
The Rioter mode, as the name suggests, draws from the Suhr Riot, and it does it surprisingly well. Many Riot clones tend to overdo the saturation and compression, which can make them great for sustaining lead tones but lacking the definition for any rhythm work.
The Baatsin’s take keeps enough aggression for singing leads but still retains the note clarity and definition needed to not get lost in a mix.
Not Just Another Bonsai Clone
When I first saw the Baatsin, I immediately thought of the JHS Bonsai — another multi-overdrive pedal that serves as a “greatest hits” collection of classic circuits.
To Joyo’s credit, they didn’t just lift the idea wholesale. They took the concept and went their own way with it, choosing a solid mix of mainstream favourites rather than diving into the more obscure options that the Bonsai features. That feels pretty on-brand for Joyo — reliable, accessible tones that don’t break the bank. Likewise, the Bonsai is very much aiming at those more niche tones that Josh Scott loves to share with us all. Kudos to Joyo for not just straight ripping off and kudos to JHS too, props where props are due.
Style, Substance, and Serious Value
Add in the sleek, Tron-like aesthetic of the R-series — complete with the soft-glow LED surround — and the Baatsin becomes a genuinely useful addition to almost any pedalboard. It’s like having a Swiss Army knife of tone under your foot, ready to cover everything from transparent boost to full-blown rock gain.
It might be green, but don’t be fooled — this isn’t just another Tube Screamer. The Baatsin is proof that Joyo knows exactly how to balance variety, tone, and affordability.
Saturday, November 1, 2025
Digitech Grunge – Teenage Dreams and Distorted Realities
I’ve been on a bit of a nostalgia kick lately with the old Digitech pedals — it all started when I plugged in the Screamin’ Blues. I’ve covered the Bad Monkey before (I was a fan before the wild frenzy our Josh Scott whipped up), but I’ve always had a soft spot for this entire series. They might have been marketed as budget-friendly stompboxes, but the two-band EQ they all share makes them far more useful than a lot of the single-tone-knob pedals they were clearly inspired by.
After revisiting the Screamin’ Blues and then the Hot Head, I realised I was slowly rebuilding the collection I had in my younger years — and honestly, it felt great. Even though I didn’t rate the Hot Head quite as highly as the others, I still found it an improvement over the pedal that clearly inspired it. So, I decided to complete the set and track down the two I’d never properly owned: the Grunge and the Death Metal.
The Hunt for the Forgotten One
Now, I’ve never been a fan of Reverb (the site, not the effect). I know myself too well — I’ve got an addictive personality and a weakness for a bargain — so I stick to eBay. It’s a little more of a free-for-all, but that usually means better deals if you’re patient.
I started my search not long after uploading my last video, with some gentle encouragement from the premiere chat (you lot are a bad influence). Straight away, I noticed something odd: the Death Metal had suddenly become weirdly expensive. £60 and up, routinely. I vaguely remembered Ola Englund doing a video on it, and let’s face it — he probably has about as much sway in the metal community as Josh Scott does in the rest of the pedal world.
The Grunge, though? Totally forgotten. No hype, no inflated prices. Just sitting there, gathering digital dust, waiting for a nostalgic fool like me to come along. I found one boxed, at a good price, and pulled the trigger.
Loud, Grunge, and… Confused
The Grunge follows the same format as the rest of the Digitech budget-yet-refined-classics line — four knobs, solid enclosure, familiar layout. But instead of the usual Level, Gain, Low, and High, we’ve got Loud and Grunge. How very late-’90s.
I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu when I saw those control names. They reminded me of the BB Blaster, one of those cheap, plasticky practice amps that haunted bedrooms everywhere back in the day. The ones with “edgy” control labels like Beef, Tweak, and Enjoy. The controls were names were a perfect metaphor for the amp itself; confusing and difficult to work, with no real payoff. Those amps littered bedrooms across the nation and were often the perfect partner to a not-quite-branded Strat copy. Those amps were probably responsible for putting more people off realising their rock and roll dreams than any other piece of musical equipment out there. Now this reminiscence might seem like an odd tangent, but dear reader let me tell you, this is what we call foreshadowing....
When I Was a Teenage Dirtbag…
I actually remember this pedal vividly from my early gig-going years. There was a local band of Nirvana-wannabes — flannel shirts, unwashed hair in their eyes, the whole lot — and their singer/guitarist had one of these lilac Digitech Grunge boxes strewn haphazardly on the stage in front of him (pedalboards weren't rock and roll, clearly - Kurt didn't have one). Back then, my ear wasn’t exactly refined; louder and angrier was better. I remember seeing him stomp on that thing and feeling like the heavens had opened.
Fast forward a couple of decades, and I plug mine in for the first time…
Well. Let’s just say nostalgia can be a liar.
Tone? What Tone?
I'm not going to sugar coat things here, this pedal sucks. It’s absolutely drenched in compression from the word go, with a wall of noise that only gets worse as you push the gain. The EQ section — normally the saving grace of this series — does its best to help, but there’s only so much it can do.
Pulling the Highs back cuts the clarity completely, leaving you with a nasal, almost transistor-radio tone. Pushing it up doesn't yield harsh, fizzy tones but it doesn't exactly fix it either. The Lows are equally unruly: dial them back, and the sound collapses into thin, cardboard mush; push them up, and you get this overblown thump that sounds like your speakers are about to file for early retirement. It is the first pedal I have demo'd that has actually pushed hard against the limiter I use. I have it in the chain exactly for this reason as not to experience horrible digital distortion when recording, but the bass on this almost managed that even with the limiter on. Yes, the bass control is entirely too much!
The Grunge doesn’t really have sweet spots — it has less awful spots. The other Digitech drives, like the Screamin’ Blues and Bad Monkey, feel responsive and musical. The Grunge feels like the controls are clinging on for dear life, trying (and failing) to rein in chaos.
But… I Don’t Regret It
Here’s the thing, though: I don’t regret picking it up for a second. It might be a sonic disaster, but it’s my sonic disaster. It reminds me of those early years discovering local bands, figuring out tones, and getting properly obsessed with guitar gear for the first time.
It’s not a pedal I’ll be plugging in again any time soon — unless I’m doing a demo on “how not to EQ a distortion pedal” — but it’s found a permanent place in my collection as a little nostalgic relic. A reminder of how far I’ve come since those early days of chasing noise for noise’s sake.
Sometimes a bad pedal can still be a good memory.
Final Thoughts
The Digitech Grunge might have been designed to capture the spirit of the ‘90s — loud, brash, and unapologetically messy — but it ends up more “BB Blaster practice amp” than “Bleach-era Nirvana.”
Still, for those of us who grew up during that era, it’s hard not to feel a bit sentimental about it. It’s a product of its time — and that time just happened to be one of experimentation, distortion, and questionable tone decisions.
If you find one cheap and you’re feeling nostalgic, go for it. Just don’t expect to be blown away. Unless, of course, you accidentally leave the Lows turned up too high.
