Things I've been obsessed with for most of my life: tools, equipment, skills, fixing things, building things, being able to avoid paying money through the ability and willingness to do things. To a lesser extent: playing the guitar.
Pedals is still a pretty new obsession. A friend sent me a link to "The Pedal Movie" in 2021 - At that point I had just got an electric guitar for the first time in 20 years and bought my first couple pedals at my local music store. That movie presented pedal builders as mostly scrappy self taught outsiders in a way that was very appealing. I started looking into what was involved in building a pedal.
When you're an opportunistic hoarder of tools and materials, one of the greatest things that can happen is that you find a project that you are accidentally fully prepared to complete using only the junk you've already got. I told the friend who sent me the Pedal Movie that I was pretty sure I could build a fuzz face out of scrap without having to buy anything and I did. That got the ball rolling.
As a grown man with no kids, my life is mostly work and hobbies. Why I keep building pedals instead of working on my many other neglected hobbies is that pedals have a lot going for them as a built object.
- Cost: They are cheap relative to the time that it takes me to build them - in other words, the per hour cost of the activity isn't that high relative to other things I could be doing. I try to think about cost in hobby terms and not business terms. In a business venture, the less time you spend per unit, the higher your profit. In a hobby venture it's the opposite - the slower you work, the slower you're burning money.
- Size: They are small. I can build many of them without creating a storage nightmare (see above about my hoarding tendencies for why this is a concern). I had a brief obsession with building chairs that quickly became unsustainable.
- Durability: I like the idea of making a thing that has a decent chance of outlasting me. Pedals are physically robust, have a recognizable use-value and seem like they have a chance of not being immediately thrown in the dumpster by whoever is cleaning up the mess I leave behind when I'm dead.
- Value: Maybe more than any hobby-object I've been involved in building, pedals are a thing that people around me are interested in getting. That feels very validating.
- Process: Pedals are a thing that can be made in a way that expresses my feelings about workmanship, and where I can observe the results of my efforts to get better at something.
Regarding the value of process, below is an excerpt from an newsletter email I got today from a lady named Keppie Coutts who writes about songwriting. She's talking about songs written by AI, but I think there's an interesting parallel with why you might want to build a klon clone for instance when you could probably buy a klone on amazon for cheaper than your parts cost that would be functionally equivalent in terms of making sounds.
When the product becomes indistinguishable, the process becomes the product.
Let me say that again:
The Process IS the Product.
AI is already making music that’s nearly indistinguishable from human-made songs. Maybe you’ve felt it too—listening to a track and wondering,
“Was this made by a person… or a prompt?”
Which is why how you make your music—your process, your voice, your quirks, your struggle—is more important than ever.
As Austin Kleon puts it in Show Your Work:
“...an artist can share her sketches and works-in-progress, post pictures of her studio, or blog about her influences, inspiration, and tools. By sharing her day-to-day process—the thing she really cares about—she can form a unique bond with her audience.”
Another way to put it?
People really do want to see how the sausage is made.
So I guess I build pedals because it's an opportunity to build a thing that was very apparently made by a person, and to do it in a way that might tell you something about what kind of person I am. And if the pedals stick around long enough - what kind of person I was.