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SERVICEMAN'S LOG
Stomping on the pedal killed it
We all know that musos need to stomp on
their effects pedals as they weave their
magic. But ultimately that stomping can kill
the pedal and the good thing is that it then
needs a repair. Hopefully, they then know
“who they’re gonna call”!
The term serviceman means different things to different people. 60 years
ago, a serviceman was typically someone in uniform, most likely heading off
to, or returning from, a war.
These days, a serviceman can be the
person who turns up to fix your washing machine or TV, or the person who
checks the oil and air filters on your
car. Those who call themselves servicemen (or women) cover a huge range of
careers and callings and that is what
makes being a serviceman so interesting; we cannot usually be easily pigeon-holed into any one job or service.
My current job title would be computer serviceman but that description
doesn’t cover my skill-set and other
servicemen probably feel the same
way. Most of us bring a range of skills
to our trade and this is what sets the
serviceman apart from some other
tradespeople.
There are plenty of servicemen out
there who have no experience in fields
other than the one they specialise in,
and while there’s absolutely nothing
wrong with that, those who do bring
outside skills to their trade will raise
the bar for others and that can only be
a good thing.
Having skills in the model aircraftbuilding and hobby electronics fields,
for example, can be a real boon for my
computer repair work, as every now
and then I’m faced with a task that requires soldering, custom fabrication or
other outside-the-box aptitudes that
others in this trade might have to outsource in order to provide the service.
I’d like to think this gives me an
edge in business, though given there
are plenty of very skilled technicians
58 Silicon Chip
out there, that might be just wishful
thinking!
I mention this because I had a job
recently that required a range of skills
to resolve. Since I’ve been diversifying
into musical instrument and amplifier
repairs in order to keep my accountant
happy, I’ve had some interesting jobs
through the workshop. However, this
field also has some challenges to the
serviceman and having been a working musician certainly helps me with
insights into that world.
One rather large flaw in choosing
this line to diversify into is that 99%
of working musicians operate on very
tight budgets, from which they have
to set themselves up in what can be a
shockingly expensive business. This
means there is a lot of compromise
and innovation as musos try to get by
with whatever gear they can afford. It
doesn’t help that guitarists in particular are usually searching for an elusive
‘sound’ to call their own.
And those ‘sounds’ are big business;
all the top guitar players have their
signature tone and playing style that
others try to emulate, so much so that
manufacturers of so-called ‘modelling
amplifiers’ try to ‘bottle’ those sounds
so other players can easily replicate
them (if they buy that amplifier of
course!). That’s a pretty big ask, given
that those sounds are much more than
just what comes out of the speakers.
A player’s tone is a combination of
many different factors, from the mass
of the player’s hands and fingers to
the way they strum, pick, hammer-on
and tap the strings through to the construction of the hardware itself, such
as the timber the guitar is made from,
Dave Thompson*
Items Covered This Month
•
•
•
•
Wah-wah pedal repair
Dishwasher cockroach removal
Gas igniter repair
Technics SZ-4000U amplifier
*Dave Thompson runs PC Anytime
in Christchurch, NZ.
Website: www.pcanytime.co.nz
Email: dave<at>pcanytime.co.nz
whether it is solid or hollow, the size
and type of strings, the way the instrument is tuned, the pick-ups and onboard controls and type of amplifier
and speakers, the sum of which have
a profound effect on the overall sound.
All this variation means a lot of work
for the instrument and amplifier serviceman, who sometimes must tread
very carefully when repairing or servicing some of this gear. It also means
that costs have to be sensible and keeping costs down means not spending
too many non-chargeable hours working away on problematic gear, which
comes back to having the skills to do
these jobs quickly and efficiently. It is
sometimes a fine line to walk.
While this job turned out to be more
mechanical than electronic, it did have
a troubleshooting sting in the tail. The
customer brought in what is generically known as an effects pedal, which is
typically a foot-operated device that
sits on-stage and is positioned in-line
between the guitar and the amplifier.
These boxes modify the guitar’s signal
in some way before piping it onwards.
Check out the floor near any guitarist
playing live and you’ll often see a gaggle of these pedals within easy reach.
Some guitar players don’t use any
floor effects, while others might have
a large pedal-board chock full of them;
it is very much a personal preference.
This job involved a ‘Wah-Wah’ pedal, one of the earliest and most audibly
recognisable of all the guitar effects.
The wah-wah pedal as we know it today hails from the mid to late 1960s
and was introduced to the masses by
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musical experimenters such as Jimmy
Hendrix and Frank Zappa, though it
has been used in every genre of music
from jazz, country, funk and disco to
the heaviest high-gain rock.
Essentially just a variable notch filter, the effect is controlled by the up
and down movement of a foot operated pedal, giving the guitar a ‘crying’ sound. While sometimes regarded
as a bit of a ‘joke’ effect because the
wide range of sounds produced makes
it prone to over-use by inexperienced players, it was hugely popular
throughout the 1970s before falling out
of fashion in the 1980s.
Lately, the wah-wah pedal has
seen a resurgence due to its adoption
by hipster bands and lovers of retro,
‘analog’ effects. This means that some
of the original pedals, which you once
couldn’t give away, are now worth a
small fortune.
Most of them boasted remarkably
simple, PNP transistor-based circuits,
which modern manufacturers attempt
to emulate with all manner of digital
jiggery-pokery whilst creating newer, quieter versions for today’s noiseallergic players. However, many rollyour-own effects pedal makers – and
there are a huge number of us out there
– prefer those early designs, making
vintage germanium PNP transistors
like AC128s and OC71s and diodes
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like 1N34s suddenly quite desirable
(and therefore valuable). Luckily, I
have parts-drawers full of them; Easy
Street, here I come!
The pedal I had to repair is an Ibanez
WF-10 Wah-Fuzz, a late-1980s-era
pedal made in Japan and now quite
sought-after. It has a unique sound
and this is why the owner wanted it
repaired.
The effect, as the name suggests,
consists of a wah pedal with a fuzz
circuit built-in. Switches beneath the
foot-pedal activate the bypass system
to switch the wah effect in and out and
a fuzz on/off switch and depth control
lurk on the bottom left side of the case.
This WF-10 had lost its wah due to
a broken linkage mechanism, leaving
the pedal part of it disconnected and
flopping uselessly up and down. The
linkage is a clever plastic and metal
arrangement that converts the up-anddown action of the foot-pedal into the
rotational movement required to turn
a potentiometer throughout its range.
I’d need to re-create that linkage to restore wah functionality.
One of the problems facing many
older pedals, and this family of Ibanez pedals in particular, is with the injection moulded plastic case. It obviously seemed like a good idea back
in the day, but time is the nemesis of
most plastics and the WF-10’s case is
no exception. Most early foot pedal effects were made using pressed-tin and/
or folded steel, which meant limited
design potential and the pedals were
either too light and flimsy to take stage
wear or built like brick outhouses and
too heavy to lug around.
A moulded plastic case must have
seemed a godsend at the time; they
could be (relatively) easily made
into any funky, fashionable shape
and were very strong while
remaining light enough to
carry around in a gig bag
or in the back of an amplifier. However, fast-forward
30 years and one of the
consequences of using plastics has become all too clear.
The owner of
this pedal reported that he stomped
on it one day and
with a sickening crunch, the
thing fell to bits beneath his foot,
leaving fragments of plastic and distorted metal scattered everywhere. He
scooped the whole lot up into a bag
and brought it to me to see if I could
do anything with it. I understood why
he wanted to save it; it was part of his
‘sound’ and finding a substitute would
be difficult, unless he could locate
another WF-10 that is . . .
It was easy enough to see what the
problem was; the plastic mounting
lugs at the foot-pedal end of the linkage had shattered due to age, leaving
nothing for the metal to hold onto.
These bits and the linkage then fell
through the gap in the bottom part
of the pedal and had been crushed
by the pedal coming down on top
of it, causing the metal to bend and
inflicting more damage to the plastic
bits directly beneath it, including the
pot mounts, which were cracked and
would also need repairing.
Fortunately, the rest of the case was
OK. It didn’t really have that much
stress put on it during normal use and
so would likely last a few more years
yet. Any repair would entail rebuilding those mounting points and making
them stronger than they were before,
allowing for the fact the plastics were
still going to be deteriorating and there
wasn’t much I could do about that.
Ideally, I’d like to swap out the
whole chassis with a new one but
that wasn’t an option. A quick look
on eBay showed a number of these
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Se
ceman’s
man’s Log – continued
pedals for sale, but all were as old and
would probably have the same issues
as this one; besides that, the cost was
prohibitive, so I decided that reconstructing the mounting lugs was the
best way to proceed.
The first thing was to split the
two halves of the pedal before stripping the jack sockets, circuit board,
pots and switches from the case and
giving everything a good clean.
Since the top of the bottom half of
the case has a slot to allow the linkage
through, it is open to the elements and
as it sits on the floor on-stage, it tends
to accumulate everything from generic
dust and dirt to ash, sweat, spilt booze
and other nasty stuff; Rock and roll is
so glamorous!
Thankfully my customer had the
good sense to grab all the broken plastic bits he could find and it seems he
got them all. It was simple enough to
fit them all back together like a 3D
jigsaw but some of the bits had been
distorted and didn’t fit as well as they
could, so there was a fair bit of carving
and fettling and assembly to be done
until everything fitted together as well
as it was going to.
I used an expensive, good-quality 24-hour epoxy to glue these bits,
mainly because cheaper epoxies,
and especially the 4 and 5-minute
versions, are a lot weaker than their
longer-curing cousins. I wrapped the
drying brackets in grease-proof paper
and clamped them using small, springloaded clamps similar to clothes-pegs
on steroids, to ensure everything was
straight. I left it all for longer than 24
hours, checking periodically early on
to make sure it was still lined up.
In the meantime, I used my metalworking skills to straighten out the
bent linkages and brackets. Once the
glue was set, I tried test-fitting everything to make sure it all fitted; after a
bit of glue-clearing with a hobby-knife
and a drill bit, it did. However, while
that repair might last, leaving it like
this would invite failure somewhere
down the line, so I needed to strengthen it further.
This I did by using what I politically-incorrectly call “poor man’s fibreglass”. Years ago, when I was building my Lotus 7 replica, I did a lot of
fibre-glassing. I used several weights of
spun-glass cloth for the nose-cone and
60 Silicon Chip
guards and some scraps of the lightest
mat would be ideal for this pedal repair. I cut several small strips to size
and mixed up a small amount of the
same 24-hour epoxy, which I ‘painted’
onto the lug before wrapping one of the
strips of cloth over it. I then painted
more glue onto the cloth, working it
well in until it was saturated.
I applied the other strip the same way
and after cleaning any potential runoff, I again wrapped the whole thing in
grease-proof paper and held it in place
with strips of rubber band material.
When the glue was dry, the rubber
and paper came away easily, leaving a
nice, smooth finish. While the repaired
mounting lugs were a bit bulkier than
they were originally, we had room and
they would now be many times stronger and less likely to fail again.
Reassembling the pedal was straightforward and all that was required was
a sound check. I put a fresh 9V battery
into the pedal’s battery bay and plugged
my trusty Telecaster into the input
jack, with the output going to my 5W
bench amplifier. I stepped on the pedal
to light it up, wound up the volumes
and strummed a few chords; nothing.
While there was some sound, it was
way in the background, even with volumes cranked up. I checked switches
and wiggled cables but there was no
change. This was not really what I
was expecting, but no problem; I’m a
serviceman!
Fortunately, the WF-10 was popular
enough for there to be several scans
of user and service manuals online.
In fact, there are circuits for effects of
all types and ages because fans and experimenters reverse-engineer them in
order to find out what makes them tick
and at the same time draw up schematics and post them online. Very handy!
The WF-10 is very much an 1980sera effects box, utilising through-hole
components and commonly-available parts. Having a schematic makes
things easier but the more I thought
about it, the more I was convinced
this was related to the broken linkage.
A quick look over the board and
sockets didn’t reveal anything obvious
but I recalled the guy’s description of
how it broke; he said the linkage gave
way as he stepped on the pedal, so I
took a much closer look at the area of
the board surrounding the gap in the
bottom case where the linkage goes
through with my jewellers’ loupe and
there it was, one of two diodes sitting
parallel to each other near the edge
of the board beside the linkage had a
faint crack in the glass body.
My Peak semiconductor checker
told me it was open circuit, so I removed it. I used the tester on the
other diode and it told me it was a
standard component, so I soldered in
a 1N4148, plugged everything in on
the bench and tried again. This time I
had full sound and after reassembling
the pedal, I invoked the spirit of Jimi
Hendrix and gave the pedal a thorough
test. Job done.
Editor’s note: Silicon Chip has published a number of effects pedals over
the years and these can all be accessed
by searching under the “Articles” tab
of the home page of the website. Specifically, we published a wah-wah pedal
(we called it “waa waa”) in September
1998. All the parts are still available
although the PCB is not. Go to http://
siliconchip.com.au/l/aacc
More recently, a Digital Effects Processor for Guitars & Musical Instruments was publish in October 2014.
All key parts, including the PCB, are
available. Go to http://siliconchip.
com.au/l/aacd
Dishwasher stopped by roaches
B. C., of Dungog, NSW, has had a
battle with a dishwasher and its eccentric owner. He managed to repair the
machine in spite of the owner’s odd
ways. Call it a “pro bono” job.
Freda (not her real name) lives close
to the beach and her house has been
the preferred location for family gettogethers. During a recent visit, Freda’s
dishwasher (Dishlex DX302WJ) had
developed a weird problem. Unfortunately, this appliance has not had an
easy life and has had (what I would
call) various environmental faults over
the years. In more recent times, it has
been rarely used, to save on water and
electricity.
As I was already there on the spot,
my services were enlisted. Freda said
the machine had been working perfectly but admitted that she had forgotten to turn on the stop cock (mounted
under the sink). Then the dishwasher
would not run through the Quick cycle. She had then turned the water
back on but it would now only show
E10 on the display and would not fill
up with water.
siliconchip.com.au
Freda said to me, “I am sure that all
you have to do is find the blockage in
the inlet hose and it will be working
again”. I foolishly asked “why don’t
you just leave the stop cock turned
on”. Her reply was, “I always turn it
off, in case a rat chews through the
water hose. That way my kitchen does
not get flooded”.
Under these strict instructions (to
only check the water hose), I rolled
up my sleeves and faced up to the
challenge.
Checking first that both the power
and the water were turned off, I put a
hessian bag on the floor and slid the
dishwashing machine out. I found a
position where I could inspect it underneath and still have access to do the
necessary testing and repairs.
I could see the wiring harness around
the wash motor had been repaired and
the water inlet hose appeared to have
been re-joined near the back of the
machine. Perhaps in the past, a rat did
chew through the water inlet hose,
resulting in the flooding of the kitchen!
I then removed both the rubber hoses
that were connected to the water inlet
solenoid valve. I first removed the water filter gauze from the end of the inlet
hose and found it to be clear of debris.
Then the free end of the water inlet
hose was put into a plastic bucket. The
stop cock was turned on briefly and
plenty of water gushed out. Blowing
through the water outlet hose (from
the solenoid valve) proved there was
no blockage.
So it was now time to test the
solenoid coil. The original
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two harness wires were disconnected, ready for this test to be done. Set
on a low Ohms range, the multimeter
showed that there was continuity in
the coil and I then proceeded to test
the solenoid valve on mains power.
A suitable test lead was made up
from a discarded figure-8 power lead,
with a lamp holder wired in series
and then fitted with some fast-on
connectors.
A 100W globe was put into the lamp
holder and this test lead was connected to the coil terminals. When the
mains power (current limited by the
light globe) was applied, the globe lit
up but the solenoid valve made no
noise at all; it appeared to be stuck in
the closed position and needed to be
replaced. I managed to salvage one
from another dishwasher, sitting in the
backyard appliance graveyard.
I tested it first with my mains power
test lead. It made a noise as it operated
and the globe went back to a dim glow.
This solenoid valve was then installed
into the machine and the water hoses
and cables were reconnected. I put
the machine onto the quick cycle and
I could hear the water flowing into it.
But I could also hear the drain pump
motor running as well. As fast as the
water was flowing in, it was getting
pumped back out again!
Over a period of time, dishwashers
can have debris accumulate down inside the sump housing, particularly
when some owners do not bother to
regularly clean and refit the filters
correctly. To get access to the lower
section of the sump housing, it would
be necessary to take it completely out
of the machine. I disconnected all the
top parts and all the attached hoses underneath, and only then it was
possible to remove it.
Sure enough, there was enough
accumulated debris to nearly block
up the waste water outlet, which
connects to the drain pump. Still left
in the machine was a clear plastic
rectangular box, the pressure switch
assembly. It had some internal galleries and two rubber hoses that went
back to the sump housing. It also
housed the water level and the water
overfill level pressure switches.
I found one gallery and its rubber
hose full of black sludge. There was
also black sludge in a side compartment of the sump housing. Perhaps
this was an accumulation of coal dust,
blown in through the back gauze door
over the years. I remember Freda had
a habit of leaving the dishwasher door
open, until the next load was ready to
be put through. Eventually all the black
sludge was cleaned out and the sump
housing and pressure switch assembly
were refitted back into the machine.
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The water sensors would now faintly
click when their rubber connecting
hoses were gently blown through. All
the rubber hoses were reconnected
and all the upper parts were refitted
to the sump housing. The dishwasher was turned on again but the drain
pump was still pumping out water at
the same time as it was trying to fill
up with water; very strange indeed.
I went onto the internet but I was
unable to find any reference to this
particular fault but I found the correct
method of entering into the test mode.
This involves pressing the “Program/
Clear” and the “Start/Pause” pushbuttons together for two seconds while
switching on the Power switch.
Then you can use (mainly) the
‘Program/Clear’ pushbutton to step
through the various sections of the
test schedule. Earlier on, you will find
(stored in the memory) up to the last
three error codes. As you go further
down the schedule, each machine
function can be directly turned on.
These are displayed as item numbers 4 through to 10. The numbers of
interest to me were item 6 – inlet valve
open and item 5 – drain pump on.
I stepped through to (5) and found
that the drain pump would run. However, when I went to 6, the water
inlet solenoid valve would operate
together with the drain pump. So it also
appeared to have a fault on the control PCB, perhaps around the microprocessor.
With the power turned off again, I
removed the control module out of the
dishwasher door and there was evidence of bush cockroach ingress. Both
the internal PCBs were removed out
of the housing and carefully washed
down with alcohol and then air dried
out in the sun. But after reassembling
and refitting the module, the fault was
still there.
So back to the internet and there
were two options available on eBay:
Purchase an exchange control module for about $94 or a new one for
about $170. It was now time to consult the management, ie, Freda. Apparently the existing control module
was already a replacement unit. This
was done a number of years ago (as a
goodwill gesture) beyond the normal
warranty time.
Ironically, the previous control
62 Silicon Chip
module had also failed due to bush
cockroach ingress. Freda then told
me “I don’t see how leaving the Stop
Cock turned OFF could have caused
all these problems you have found. I
don’t want a reconditioned Control
Module put into my machine, as it
probably won’t last, and I don’t want
to spend the money on a new one”.
However, there was another possible option to save face. Find a writtenoff machine at the recyclers and take
out the control module, with the hope
that it was still functional. That way I
might have a good chance of getting the
dishwasher fully operational again.
After several months, an Electrolux/
Dishlex dishwasher did turn up at the
recyclers and since it had been assigned to go onto the steel scrapheap,
I was allowed to remove the control
module. After getting it back home, I
dismantled and cleaned the module
and any suspect joints were resoldered
on both the PCBs.
On the next trip to Freda’s house, I
fitted this module into the dishwasher
door and put the machine into the
test mode and now correctly started
to fill with water. The dishwasher was
then put through the quick cycle successfully. Freda eventually came out
from her afternoon nap and wanted
to know “what are you doing?” I said
that I was testing the dishwasher and
it is now working properly. ”See, I told
you there wasn’t much wrong with it”!
Now that’s a real love job!
Gas igniter repair
This story from Geoff H., in Littlehampton, SA, involves the repair of a
gas igniter for a 4-burner gas stove-top.
My son asked if I would have a look
and see if it was possible to repair the
gas igniter. There was no brand name on
either the hotplates or the igniter box.
So the first challenge was to dismantle
the hotplates. Often it is as easy as pulling off the control knobs, removing the
trivets, lifting off the gas burners and
unscrewing a large nut off each burner
so the complete top can be removed.
This exposes all the gas pipes, the
igniter box and the wiring. The main
thing to be careful of is lifting the top
over the ceramic plugs that feed spark
to the burner so as not to damage them.
Normally it is easy but this one was
not like that.
For this one you have to be a contortionist inside the cupboard below to remove two screws from each side then
everything tends to fall down on top
of you. It was definitely a two-person
job. Anyway we got the igniter box out
and I took it home to attempt a repair.
The first thing I noticed was that the
momentary switch which activates
it was stuck down. I was expecting a
small transformer powering a simple
timer type circuit to generate a pulsing low voltage spark into an ignition
type coil, as these hotplates would be
about 25 years old.
Instead, 230VAC was connected to
a bridge rectifier to charge a capacitor
via a resistor. From the capacitor the
supply was connected a gas discharge
surge arrestor to the ignition coil. So
when the switch was pressed the capacitor charges up to the flashover
point of the arrestor, induces a spark
in the coil and the process continues
while ever you press the button. It did
not take long to replace the stuck down
momentary-contact switch.
I was looking for a ground return for
the spark but there wasn’t any. Instead
it uses the other leads as its return.
Clever. I then tested it using my small
12V DC to 230VAC inverter. I did this
as I want to isolate it from the 230VAC
mains supply, being aware that it’s potentially dangerous. Anyway it worked
so I returned it to my son and he installed it back into the hotplates. But it
still didn’t work. What was going on?
After further investigation I found
that someone must have disconnected
the Active lead in the junction box to
stop it working continuously because
of the stuck momentary contact switch.
I wonder how many years it had been
in that condition.
Technics SU-Z400 amplifier
Japanese hifi gear from the mid1980s was certainly built to last but 30
years later, it’s not unusual to encounter faults. J. L., of NZ recently brought
a dead Technics SU-Z400 stereo amplifier back from the dead but it was
quite a battle . . .
I had been looking for a basic amplifier to play music in our games room
and recently came across a Technics
SU-Z400 power amplifier. It looked
like it would do the job, it cost nothing and it still had the original owner’s
manual with it.
This amplifier is a pretty solid unit
with a large, heavy power transformer
siliconchip.com.au
and a hefty heatsink. In short, it was
typical of the well-built Japanese electronic gear from the 1980s. Inside it
is based around an STK2058-4 stereo
power amplifier IC and the manual
claimed around 60W RMS per channel at 0.02% THD.
I duly plugged the unit in, applied
power and got nothing; no sound, no
indicator lights and no signs of life
whatsoever. There wasn’t so much as
a sausage from this rather nice-looking amplifier that still appeared to be
in good nick.
Now I’m the sort of person who will
have a go at fixing virtually anything
before writing it off as scrap, especially seeing how much gets thrown away
these days due to simple faults. So no
problem, I thought, it’s probably just
a blown fuse.
The unit came apart easily and I
quickly discovered that the fuse was
OK. What’s more, power was reaching
the primary winding of the hefty power transformer but nothing was coming out from the secondary leads. I immediately switched it off and reached
for my multimeter. A quick continuity
check showed that the primary winding was open circuit. Ouch!
The transformer carried an SLT5
M408 part number and appeared to
have multi-tapped secondary windings. In addition, there is a switch on
the rear of the amplifier that appears to
change the secondary voltage depending on the impedance of the speakers
connected.
I figured that the transformer was
rated at somewhere around ±35V and
possibly up to 300VA. I had some similarly-rated parts in my junk box but
unfortunately none of them fitted into
the confines of the chassis.
At that point, I mentally wrote the
unit off as junk. And then, some time
later, I recalled that some transformers
I’d come across had thermal fuses built
into them. Could that be the case here?
I removed the transformer and unsoldered the PCBs from its terminal
pins. Some very careful cutting into
the transformer’s insulation then revealed a small thermal fuse tucked
inside (without any markings) and
sure enough, it was open circuit! Fortunately, the primary winding beyond
that appeared was intact, according to
the multimeter.
I took a guess and replaced the fuse
with one rated at 125°C. I then reassembled everything, including tedisiliconchip.com.au
ously wrapping the windings in a new
layer of tape.
This time. when power was applied,
the input selector display and source
LEDs lit up and all looked to be well!
And so, with the transformer now
transforming and the lights lighting, I
duly connected a signal source and a
pair of speakers and got . . . nothing.
There wasn’t even a faint hiss from
the speakers with the volume turned
all the way up.
At that point, something in my mind
recalled the law of diminishing returns
but I’d already come this far and after
all, it was just a simple amplifier. How
hard could it be?
Studying the main PCB showed
a pretty conventional power amplifier and power supply, along with
some other parts surrounding a relay. I traced the PCB tracks from the
relay and this revealed that the relay
switched the speaker outputs, so it was
likely to be a form of protection circuit.
The relay itself was controlled by
IC601, a TA7317P. A quick Google
search revealed that this was indeed an
amplifier protection IC with de-thump
and DC detection. Connecting a speaker to the input side of the relay (accessible from the top of the PCB via R411
and R412) resulted in crystal-clear audio, so the protection circuitry looked
like it might be the culprit.
Further PCB track tracing now revealed that some of the pins on IC601
weren’t actually used. The DC detection pin was connected via isolating
resistors to both outputs of the power amplifier IC (IC401), as well to the
emitters of transistors Q621 and Q622
which appeared to make up a current
detection circuit on the output of each
channel.
The current detection outputs were
then both fed via D602 into Q601 and
Q602 which formed a latch, the output of which was also connected to
IC601’s DC detection pin (pin 2). This
arrangement was likely there to ensure
that the load remained disconnected
once an overload condition had been
detected.
I checked the voltage at the input to
this latch circuit (collector of Q601 and
base of Q602) and it was at -30V DC,
as was the output. I figured that this
-30V DC was likely to trigger the DC
detection circuit in IC601 and cause
it to disconnect the speakers.
In order to check if this really was
the problem, I desoldered R605 which
effectively disconnected the overload
protection circuit and switched on.
This time, the relay clicked in after
a few seconds and sound burst forth
from the speakers!
At that point, I took a punt and replaced both Q601 and Q602, figuring
that one of them was probably leaky. I
didn’t have the original types on hand
(2SA1015 and 2SC1815) so replaced
them with a BC556 and a BC546 respectively, as they were the closest
equivalents I had on hand. The only
trick here was bending their base and
collector pins into new positions to
match the PCB.
Finally, with everything back in
place the amplifier fired up and
worked perfectly. Job done, you say?
Not quite; Murphy made sure that the
problems didn’t end there!
After it had been running for about
half an hour, the speakers suddenly
crackled and then cut out completely.
As I investigated the cause, I noticed
the sound intermittently returning,
along with accompanying relay chatter from the amplifier.
My first thoughts were that the
transistors I had swapped in weren’t
quite right but on further reflection, a
temperature-related cause seemed the
more likely at this point. Close examination revealed some slightly dodgy
solder joints around the protection circuit. I reworked all of them, along with
some other suspects around IC401, the
main amplifier IC.
After all that work, the amplifier
hasn’t skipped a beat since! Was it
worth it for such an old unit? I think
so – it sounds good and hasn’t me cost
anything apart from some time. The resale value of some of this vintage gear
is on the rise too.
SC
Servicing Stories Wanted
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column? If so, why not send those stories in to us?
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April 2017 63
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