Zemaitis Greco GZ-200DF Price: $3,500 Contact: Zemaitis International 2-11-5 Kaji-cho Chiyoda-ku, Tokyo, Japan 101-0044 Phone: 81-52-953-9351 www.zemaitis.net.
Looking to score one of those legendary guitars made by the late British luthier Tony Zemaitis? Yeah, so are we. But given that Tony’s work today occupies its own unique space in the “axe strata,” chances are it won’t happen for any of us anytime soon.
But that doesn’t mean you can’t get close – real close, in fact. Because although Tony is no longer with us, his spirit most definitely is, in the form of Zemaitis Japan, the company that bought the Zemaitis name after Tony’s passing and has since proven beyond redoubt its commitment to making high-quality guitars that offer the same unique character as the original (see our January ’05 review of the Zemaitis S22 metal-top).
We recently took a turn on the company’s GZ-3200DF. Built by Greco, the established builder in Japan that earned a reputation long ago for its top-quality guitars (early on, they specialized in copies of Gibson and Fender designs), these axes offer players a shot at a Z-branded guitar at a price point significantly lower than the $6,000 (or more) it’ll take to get into the top-tier Zemaitis models, and way below the tens of thousands it’ll take to score a vintage example.
The GZ-3200DF’s one-piece mahogany body recalls the classic design of the Fender Telecaster, but with unmistakable Zemaitis flare, and its one-piece mahogany neck is appointed with a beautifully grained ebony fingerboard inlaid with mother-of-pearl dots and diamond shapes that exhibit no gaps or filler. The polished frets fit with near perfection and boast round, smooth ends. The neck is a wide C shape with a 25″ scale. The bone nut is nicely fitted, and the Schaller M6 tuners need no introduction.
Cosmetically, the GZ-3200DF is a striking instrument, with a headstock sporting a silver-plated truss rod cover and diamond logo overlay. The black finish is immaculate, and the brushed aluminum disc and tailpiece are tastefully engraved in the Zemaitis tradition. The bridge and pickup selector plate are made of the company’s Duralumin alloy, and the guitar’s three DiMarzio DP103 PAF humbuckers have nickel-plated covers. Controls include a master volume and three tone pots, along with a five-way pickup selector. The electronic components are all high-quality.
Playability on our test GZ-3200DF was fantastic. We set the action to our taste – very low – and string-bending was insanely smooth, thanks in no small part to the highly polished frets. And at 8 pounds, the 3200DF is light enough so it won’t wear on you over the course of an evening gig.
To test the GZ-3200’s tones, we used an all-tube Peavey Valve King head with matching 4×12″ cab, and a Fender Blues Deluxe reissue.
We first plugged into the Valve King set for high-gain output. The GZ-3200DF’s bridge-position DiMarzio sounded very fat and round, with low-mid response to spare and big, fat bottom, complemented by crisp, snappy high-end. The bridge/middle position offered more low-end, with less sparkle that made for an overall darker, funky blues tone you don’t hear on many guitars. The sparkle returned to the mix when we moved the selector to the middle position; a mid-position pickup is a very different animal compared to running neck and bridge pickups simultaneously. Going to the middle/neck position again cut high-frequency response while boosting lows.
The GZ-3200DF’s 24-fret neck pushes its neck pickup closer to the bridge than most guitars, further contributing unique tone. The guitar’s overall sustain is tremendous, and pickup output is balanced, with even tonal response across frequencies.
Plugged into the Blues Deluxe set to clean with slight breakup, the bridge-position pickup again offered nice low-end response with that trademark PAF spit and sparkle. In the bridge/middle position, it got notably darker, and in the middle, sparkle and purity were back in play. The middle/neck position again proved much more dark, with less sparkle. The neck position was pure and PAF-flavored, with big bottom and nice sparkle.
The GZ-3200DF plays and sounds amazing and offers fantastic versatility, especially for the rock/blues player. Its workmanship is absolutely top-notch, and though it is not one of Zemaitis’ higher-end instruments, it’s a model of fit, finish, and tone, and compares favorably with anything in its price range. But does the GZ-3200DF live up to the Zemaitis name? Shadoobee, you betcha!
This article originally appeared in VG‘s November 2006 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
If there’s a Rodney Dangerfield of solidbody electric guitars, it would be named Ovation.
For more than a decade, Ovation tried unsuccessfully to leverage its achievements with revolutionary Lyracord bowlbacks and pioneering pickup systems into a presence in the lucrative solidbody market. Despite real innovations, including radical shapes, FET preamps, and high-quality products, Ovation never pulled it off. But to the end, as with this 1980 UKII 1291, it never gave up trying.
Ovation began branching into electrics as early as 1968, when it introduced a series of thinlines with German bodies, Schaller pickups, and Ovation necks. These were followed in ’72 by the more radical axe-shaped Breadwinner and Deacon, then the more conventional Preacher, Preacher Deluxe, and Viper series, all with interesting electronics and solid craftsmanship. All were dogs in the market, despite good press reception.
As you might expect from the Kaman Corporation, what makes the UKII (a.k.a. Ultra Kaman II) so fascinating is its use of novel technology. While the UKII looks like a wooden solidbody with a mahogany grain, the body is actually made of Urelite foam over a cast aluminum frame. This idea came from the mid-’70s development of the Applause guitar, when Ovation was looking for ways to produce a less-expensive alternative to its acoustics. Part of the solution was to create the neck using an aluminum frame with a foam urethane back.
Even though its construction derived from cost-saving ideas, the UKII was not outfitted as a budget guitar. It had a bolt-on mahogany neck, gold hardware, bound ebony fingerboard, and fancy abalone inlays, all expertly executed. The twin-blade humbuckers each had a series/parallel switch to give you easy in/out of phase options. Otherwise the controls were conventional, with separate volume and tone controls for each pickup. The massive bridge/tailpiece assembly was typical of Ovation’s later guitars and late-’70s notions about improving sustain.
The UKII, like its predecessors, is a fine guitar. The pickups are smooth and quiet and the fingerboard is great, especially if you like wider flat ones. This example is finished out in a black/silver-green sunburst which is pretty dated (dare we say ugly?) now, but was considered very hip at the time.
So why didn’t Ovation ever succeed with solidbodies like the UKII? Maybe it just strayed too far from its core competency. Or maybe it was just that Ovation was always just slightly off the mark. When they went wild, as on Breadwinners and Deacons, guitarists were into Les Pauls. By the time the UKII came along, the brief infatuation with active electronics was passing, and the world of the guitar was heading Stratward.
After 1982, the UKII and American-made Ovation electrics were gone (though Kaman would go on to buy and succeed with Hamer). If you’re looking for historically interesting guitars that play well and are undervalued, perhaps it’s time to give Ovation solidbodies a little respect!
This article originally appeared in VG‘s Jan. ’05 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Talent isn’t always inherited. And
when it is, the ability to develop it
doesn’t always come along with it. Big
Bill Morganfield inherited a healthy slice
of talent from his father, Muddy Waters.
Luckily for blues lovers, he also brings
his own distinctive self-developed skills
to the table. Yes, he’s Muddy’s son, but he
is his own man – spelled “m-a-n.”
Medical problems prevented Morganfield
from playing a more prominent role
on guitar here, but he takes charge on
a couple of cuts, including the original
“High Gas Prices,” while Brian Brisesi
and Waters band veteran Bob Margolin
handle the bulk of the guitar. Both are
more than up to it, and on Wolf ‘s “My
Last Affair,” Margolin even throws in
a taste of Hubert Sumlin.
Certainly, there are echoes of Muddy
in the powerful voice so similar in tone
and quality. But you also hear a voice
that is uniquely Morganfield’s, one that
goes places Muddy didn’t. Morganfield
shows his versatility by dipping into
old-fashioned Solomon Burke-style
soul on “My Love Is Real,” though the
bulk of “Born Lover” is firmly and
satisfyingly in his wheelhouse of solid,
quality blues.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s Dec. ’09 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
1939 Martin F-9. Photo: Kelsey Vaughn, courtesy Gruhn Guitars.
One of Martin’s most successful innovations of the 1970s arose, ironically, from one of the company’s least successful ventures of the legendary pre-war years. The success was the 16″ M-size body and its deeper offshoot, the J-size. The “failure” that spawned the M-size was Martin’s F-series acoustic archtops, exemplified by this F-9 from 1939.
With the exception of Gibson, which had been making archtops since Orville Gibson introduced the concept in the 1890s, guitar makers had shown little interest in archtops through the first quarter of the 20th century. It wasn’t until the guitar began to supplant the tenor banjo as a more suitable rhythm instrument for the music of the late 1920s that guitarists in horn bands gravitated toward the more cutting tone of an archtop. It should have come as no surprise to Gibson when Epiphone, which was based in the music center of New York City, responded to this trend by launching a full line of archtops in 1931. It probably surprised the entire guitar industry, however, when Martin did the same.
Martin moved with uncharacteristic speed in entering the archtop market. The dreadnought flat-tops models Martin also introduced in ’31 represented a more typical process, having taken 15 years from the time Martin first made dreadnoughts for the Ditson company to the time they were finally introduced under the Martin brand. There was no such “research and development” period for archtops, and the three new models, C-1, C-2 and C-3 appear to have been hastily put together. They illustrate just how deeply and irrevocably rooted the company was in its flat-top designs. All three models had the same body size as Martin’s 15″ OM (14-fret 000) flat-top. The soundhole, too, was round like that of a flat-top, even though Gibson’s f-hole L-5 (introduced in 1922) had become the standard-bearer for archtop design, as evidenced by the preponderance of f-hole models in the Epiphone line of 1931.
Other appointments of the three Martin archtops were straight out of the flat-top style book. The C-1 had mahogany back and sides with dot inlays and a dark outer layer of top binding, the same as Martin’s Style 18 flat-tops. The C-2 was rosewood with slotted-diamond fingerboard inlays, a la Style 28 (but with a new vertically oriented peghead logo). The C-3 was rosewood with Style 45-type backstripe and snowflake fingerboard inlays.
A year later, Martin recognized the preference among players for f-holes and began offering the C-series with f-holes. However, the company failed to follow a trend toward larger guitars – surprising, in light of the concurrent appearance of the larger-bodied dreadnoughts in the 1931 flat-top line – and in fact went in the opposite direction, introducing the smaller 00-sized R-18 archtop model in 1932.
In ’35, Martin finally did respond to the demand for a larger-bodied archtop model – even larger than the 155/8″ dreadnought. The result was a pair of F-series models, the F-7 and F-9, with 16″ bodies drawn along the lines of the 000-size rather than the thick-waisted dreadnought design. These were high-end guitars, with rosewood back and sides, bold hexagonal fingerboard inlays (at six frets on the F-7, eight on the F-9) and a vertically oriented “C.F. Martin” peghead inlay. The F-7 was priced at $175, which was $25 less than a D-45, while the F-9 was Martin’s most expensive model, at $250.
The rosewood or mahogany bodies of Martin’s archtops gave them a unique voice that was noticeably different from that of the maple-bodied guitars made by Gibson and Epiphone. However, by the time Martin expanded the body to 16″ for the F-series, Gibson and Epiphone were offering 18″ models. And there was a more serious problem with the Martin designs – the neck angle. In designing its archtops, Martin apparently failed to take into account the fact that an archtop bridge was significantly higher than that of a flat-top. To compensate, Martin simply increased the neckset angle, and as a result, the neck angled off awkwardly behind the player.
Martin’s archtops initially had respectable sales, but the combination of strange feel and non-mainstream tone ultimately doomed all of the models. The F-7 and F-9 started out well, with sales of 91 F-7s and 28 F-9s in their first year, but they never matched those figures in subsequent years. By 1942 the total annual production for all archtop models was only 194 guitars. With the onset of World War II, Martin had a good excuse to curtail archtop production, and none of the models were reintroduced after the war.
That might have been the end of the Martin archtop story except for one F-7 with a busted top. Circa 1965, the owner brought it into the New York shop of Mark Silber and traded it for a $100 Guild flat-top. Silber obtained a dreadnought top from Martin, which was cut big enough for the 16″ F-7 body, and he installed it. The guitar became known in New York folk circles, and within a few years David Bromberg showed up at Matt Umanov’s store in Greenwich Village with his own F-7 and an order to convert it to flat-top. Bromberg encouraged Martin to put this new 0000-size guitar into production. But unlike in ’31, when Martin rushed into the archtop market, the company took its time researching the new concept, and in 1977 introduced the M-38. The M-size wasn’t an instant hit, but it gradually gained acceptance and expanded, gaining a cutaway in ’81 and a deeper body (named the J) in ’85.
The F-9 has the dubious distinction of being rarer, but far less valuable, than a pre-war D-45, and rarer still because some of the F-9s have been converted to flat-tops. Although the F-series models, along with all the Martin archtops, are seldom thought of as having the same “golden era” status as the flat-tops of that era, it was the archtop line that introduced the vertical C.F. Martin headstock logo that is so closely identified today with the D-45. The hexagonal fingerboard inlays that identified a D-45 (and eventually other 40-series models), also made their debut on the F-series archtops. And the F-series bodies provided the foundation for today’s M- and J-size guitars. So perhaps the F-9 and F-7 do deserve “golden era” model status after all.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s October 2008 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Reverb! King of guitar effects.
If there’s an extracurricular sound guitarists most want, it’s reverb. Maybe because even if they’re playing the most low-down, dirty dive, they can sound more like they’re playing the Beacon, Fillmore, Ryman, or Radio City.
Since Fender introduced the Ecco-Fonic in 1959, many forms of reverb, including tape, tube-driven, solidstate, and digital, have come down the pike. One of the latest worth a close look is Guyatone’s FR3000V. Set apart from other outboard reverb units by its use of NOS GE 6K6Gt, JAN GE5751, and JAN12AT7WC tubes, the unit is traditional in its use of the industry-standard Accutronics ABC1B reverb pan.
The FR3000V’s cabinet is covered in black tolex with plastic corners, and its plexi-style front panel gives it a familiar English look. At 20″ x 71/2″ x 91/2″ it does need some space. Inside, wiring is clean and simple.
The 3000V is a full-featured unit; input and master volume controls allow for a near-infinite number of saturation adjustments and tones, and here are individual bass and treble controls, along with reverb volume. There are two inputs (one each on front and back) and one output, as well as an input for an optional remote bypass switch and a direct-out switch for a dry/reverb mix.
Guyatone MT-3
To give the FR3000V a listen, we used an early-’70s Fender Stratocaster with an all-tube Peavey Delta Blues 210 amp. We plugged the FR3000V into the effects loop of the Peavey and set the amp to the clean channel. Setting the Guyatone to the recommended “Sweet and deep Reverb” setting, we were greeted with just that – big, deep, smooth, fat reverb that added depth and warmth to the signal, with total transparency. Fabulous!
Many outboard reverb units sound outboard, but not this one. All of our Strat’s pickup positions sounded great,with the middle and neck being the standouts. We compared the 3000V to the Peavey’s onboard Accutronics 4EB2C1B reverb and found it to be lusher and deeper, giving the amp more life. The tone controls let us dial in tones ranging from smooth to slightly harsh. We set the unit to the recommended Reverb with Spring Sound and got markedly springier sound, reminiscent of the best vintage outboard units. The Saturated Lo-Fi setting gave huge reverb with long trails.
We next plugged the 3000V through the front of the Peavey (instead of the effects loop) and found the same great sound, though it was more sensitive to feedback. The FR3000V was no noisier than the onboard reverb in the Peavey, unless you really pushed the master. Switching the Peavey to the overdrive channel, we found the same great natural reverb tone. Again, the 3000V will feed back if pushed past normal. But this is typical, especially in overdrive.
The FR3000V is one of the best outboard reverb units we’ve heard, mostly because it sounds like part of an amp. If your amp lacks reverb, or you simply want a better reverb, the Guyatone FR3000V is a very good bet.
Guyatone WR3
Guyatone Micro Effects
Measuring 37/8″ x 2 3⁄4″ x 21⁄4″, these little effect pedals define “micro” in the world of guitar effects pedals.
Guyatone’s Micro Effects, while small, offer great tones in a large variety of pedals – there are over 20 in the line, including four bass pedals, five overdrive/distortions, four modulators, delay, noise reduction, EQ, auto wah, tuner, and a slow volume.
We recently had a go with the MD3 Digital Delay, the MT3 Tuner, and the WR3 Wah Rocker, using a Tokai AST solidbody through a Crate V3112.
All three share features like stamped steel chassis, old-school stompswitch, isolated-ground 1⁄4″ jacks, and 9-volt negative-center power jacks. All can operate with a 9-volt battery, as well, though access requires removing a rubber gasket that holds the bottom plate.
We first checked out the WR-3 Wah Rocker, which is essentially an auto wah. We were pleased with the range of effect we could get by manipulating the threshold blend and decay controls; from quick and funky to subdued, all without adding any noise.
The MT-3 tuner offers a lot of features, including full auto-chromatic tuning, LED note display, a nine -LED tuner bar in 10-cent increments, calibration from 437 Hz to 445Hz, a sound (electronic pitch pipe) mode, mute switch, and advanced circuit construction that’s not supposed to alter your tone. The MT-3 worked well, providing fast, accurate tuning without drastically affecting the tone of the guitar. The unit’s only real drawbacks were the lack of any different temperaments and the somewhat limited LED window.
Guyatone MD3
The MD-3 Digital Delay offered the standard controls for delay level, time, and feedback. Delay time is divided into three sections; S (20 to 160 m/sec.), M (80 to 650 m/sec.), and L (330 to 2600 m/sec) via a tiny slide switch. Like the RW-3, this pedal was very quiet, producing crystal-clear delay and slap back with no extraneous noise.
Unlike some other tiny effects, Guyatone’s Micro Effects are housed in heavy-duty steel cases and use heavy duty stompswitches to help produce good-quality, usable, noise-free effects comparable to their bigger counterparts.
Guyatone WR3/MD3/MT-3 Features Metal housings, heavy-duty switches. Price $95 (WR3)/$130 (MD3)/$120 (MT3)
This article originally appeared in VG‘s March ’05 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
With Zakk Wylde, what you see is very much what you get. An unassuming, tell-it-like-it-is guy, he makes no apologies for being the beer-swilling, English-language-brutalizing, boot-and-leather-wearing, Les Paul-and-Marshall-jacking Jersey-boy badass of hard rock. And why should he? With the help of heavy metal icon (and latter-day reality TV star) Ozzy Osbourne, a great deal of chemistry, and 1991’s No More Tears album, Wylde and his trademark bullseye-finish Gibson Les Paul were a vital force in moving heavy metal out of its late-’80s stagnation and giving it a pulse in the grunge heyday of the early ’90s. In fact, were it not for Wylde and a very small handful of other guitarists, heavy metal may have been altogether unplugged.
And he’s no one-trick pony. A versatile player who can stomp a mudhole in the ass of many a musical style, Wylde’s work with Ozzy and his own band, Black Label Society, is sprinkled with acoustic blues, country, and other stylistic dalliances he says foretell his musical future.
Black Label Society this month begins touring behind its brand new album, Mafia, a requisite punch in the nose courtesy of Wylde and two tons of guitar tones. Things kick off in the U.S. before rolling to Japan, Europe, then back to the States.
Vintage Guitar: You and Ozzy have recorded some of his best work, and you share a deep-rooted relationship. Safe to say you’ll always work together in some fashion? Zakk Wylde: Yeah. Ozzy and Sharon are like parents to me – he’s the godfather of my first boy. And just because I’m not playing with them all the time doesn’t mean we’re not together. Just because you don’t live at home doesn’t mean you don’t go visit on the holidays. You’ve just got your own place now, ya’ know?
Between Ozzy’s band and Black Label, I’ve got a nice variety of things to do. With Black Label, I’ve got a hand in everything, down to album artwork, production, everything. With Ozz, all I do is worry about going in and playing my ass off, then call it a day. With a Black Label record, I’ll step out while it’s mixed, then come in with fresh ears and go, “Can you bring the kick drum up on that,” or “Can you turn that down,” or whatever. I get a chance to wear more hats, so it never gets stale. And when I go back with Ozzy, I’m always excited and I always have a blast.
When Hangover Music, Vol. VI was released last year, you offered it up as, literally, music to listen to while you recovered from a hangover, saying the next record would be something you could listen to while you get back to the party. Does it fit the bill?
Absolutely. Hangover Music came from being on tour, when at the end of the night, you’ve got a 20-hour bus ride ahead of you. I’m not gonna listen to Meshugga when I just got done blowing my brains out with a wall of Marshalls and a Les Paul. So I’d mellow out listening to Credence, the Allmans, Skynyrd, Elton John, the Eagles, Neil Young… you know, all the good stuff. So I thought, “It’d be killer for us to mellow out on the next record, give fans something different to listen to.” If it’s good stuff, that’s all that matters. And just because it’s mellow doesn’t mean it’s not heavy or dark. (The Eagles) “Desperado” is a kick-ass song – there’s nothing wimpy about it.
And when it came time to do the Mafia record, I’d sit in the garage with a bass. I usually crank out riffs – especially heavy riffs – on a bass, with Craig (Nunenmacher) pounding out something on drums. In about a week, I had 23 songs written, then Craig did his drum parts in about eight days, Jamoe [bassist James Lomenzo] came in and did his bass parts. Then I doubled guitars, and that was about it.
When I go into the studio, I don’t have song ideas. I like going in fresh, and with no second-guessing. If you’re paying a grand or $1,200 a day for the studio, you better start pulling something out of your ass, you know?!
And you don’t like to mess around with demos, right?
No! If you demo, you might get it right the first time, with a great performance. But because you recorded on your four-track Fostex, the sound quality is crap. Then someone will say, “Well, let’s do it for real.” And I’m like, “Well, I thought we did.” And then you do it over. You’re like a dog chasing its tail. I’ve done all that before. Even when we did No More Tears, we had to chase everything, trying to out-do the demo.
In 1996, I was jamming with Guns and Roses, and one day at Duff’s studio he showed me their demo tapes. It was like someone’s music library, where you’ve got tons of CDs and you go, “Here’s the Beatles, here’s the Eagles, here’s the Stones, the Led Zeppelin. It was just a closet full of DATs, cassettes, CDs, and I said, “You gotta be f***in’ kidding me! That’s all song ideas?!” And Duff goes, “Yeah, we’ve got a few…” You’re looking at what, 12 songs? Forget an album, you got enough here for a double box-set!” (laughs).
So to me, once you record a song, it’s done. Lay it to rest. Dial it in as good as you can, then move on to the next one. Otherwise, you sit around all day and never get a thing done. How long do you suppose Jimmy Page mulled over “Stairway to Heaven”?
Right. It’s rock and roll, not like working on someone’s brain.
I know. F***, even during brain surgery, they don’t work that hard!
Is your guitar and amp rig pretty consistent on Mafia?
Yeah. I used the white Jackson Randy Rhoads guitar on a few solos, but it’s mostly the Rebel (see photo) and some other Les Pauls. But that’s about it. And the same old JCM 800 into one cabinet, then I’ll double it. The cab has 200-watt EV speakers.
You’ve been using the EVs for many years.
Yeah, it was a mistake how they went into the cabs. Over in Europe, some of my speakers were (blown), and this guitar shop we went to, all they had were these 200-watt speakers. So I stuck ’em in there, and at soundcheck that night it was like, “Holy s***!” It was just so much cleaner. And with the EMGs, as far as the tightness goes, it’s awesome.
You’ve also stepped it up a bit in terms of effects on this album, including writing “Doctor Octavia” it seems just to play through your Boss Octave pedal.
Yeah, I was just sitting in the garage one day, and thought I’d write a little “Eruption”-type thing. It actually reminds me more of a Frank Marino thing off of Mahogany Rush Live.
Do you think there’s anything that will surprise BLS fans, Ozzy fans, or Zakk fans in general?
Nah… I’m proud of every one of my records, because at that moment in time, that’s the best I could do. I can’t stand it when bands say, “Oh, it’s the best thing we’ve ever done!” Because it’s like, “That’s what you said on the last record…”
So I don’t compare my records to each other. It’s like with Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin IV probably sold the most because of “Stairway” and “Rock and Roll,” but what, are you gonna tell me that Physical Graffiti sucked? It just depends on what mood you’re in. If you and me are on a road trip, and you’ve got the Zeppelin catalog, I may say, “Dude, put on Presence. I haven’t heard that one in awhile.” It’s their least-selling record, but it’s cool.
So Mafia is just a reflection of where your head was at at that moment?
Totally. And eventually, I’ll ease my way back into the mellow s***. It’s all set up so that down the road, I’ll be doing like Neil Young did with the acoustic guitars, pedal-steel, and all types of cool sounds, so I’m not doing the heavy thing ’til I’m 107… Then again, I’m not sure my liver will be around that long! (laughs)
Is BLS doing well?
Without a doubt. We just signed a worldwide licensing deal with Artemis and JVC, we completed two amazing videos, one of which is a tribute to my brother, Dime, and we’re selling out our tour dates all over the world.
The new Dean Dimebag signature model.
the “Rebel” Gibson Les Paul Custom.
The “Grail” Gibson Les Paul Custom.
What do you think of people who collect guitars?
Well, I get Vintage Guitar magazine all the time. I’ve bought some s*** out of there, too. Actually, I just got a Gibson RD Artist out of VG, from a store in Atlanta. I bought one because my first guitar teacher, LeRoy Wright, had one. And I always thought his was so cool. I got one like his, in sunburst, and I took the electronics out and put my EMGs in it. The whole point of the guitar was that Moog s*** in there, but my EMGs sound slammin’. And the guitar is ugly as hell. But it’s a kick-ass guitar. I paid $850 for it a year and a half ago, and now I’m seeing them going for $1,800. And I don’t think RD Artists are all that “in demand,” ya’ know! (laughs).
Not yet, maybe, but their time may come…
Yeah, in the year 6022! After World War III, everything will have been destroyed. The only thing left will be the cockroaches and the RD Artists! (laughs).
You got your original Alpine White Les Paul Custom as a graduation gift from your parents?
Yeah, we got it for $800, new from the dealer. I wanted to get one like Randy Rhoads’. I had $500 to put down, and I had to wait until I could get the rest. Now you can get a $3,000 Les Paul, put some money down, then make payments on it, like a car. When I bought mine, they didn’t have that s***, or I would’ve gladly paid $60 a month until I paid the thing off.
Anyway, when I graduated – and how that happened, God only knows! It was like Jeff Spicoli graduatin’ high school (laughs)! But all I remember is my parents saying, “We got something for you,” when I came home that day. And there it was, sittin’ on the kitchen table. I was like, “Holy s***!” They’d chipped in the other $300.
After I started my endorsement with Gibson, they sent me a black doubleneck. But Scott Quinn at Garden State Music, back in Jersey, had another white Les Paul that played great, and he offered to swap the doubleneck for it. So we did, and I that’s the one that I had the bullseye painted on.
That’s the one that fell out of the equipment trailer a couple of years ago?
Right. We were between Dallas and Houston that night, and we pulled over in the middle of nowhere. I go, “Where are we,” thinking we got a flat or something. But I look back and see our tour manager walking around shaking his head. I go to him, “What happened?” He says, “Well, we forgot to lock the trailer.” I’m like, “What! Forgot to lock the trailer!” God forbid we would’ve f***in’ killed anybody – we’ve got (Ampeg) SVT cabinets in the back of that thing. SVT heads – and you know those things – you try pickin’ up one of those and you’ll blow your nuts right out. I go, “What happens if one of them falls out and slams into someone’s windshied? You’d kill ’em!” Then he told me that a couple of the guitars fell out… First off, I’m pissed because what are the guitars doing in the back of the trailer? They should be in the bus, ya’ know? But then they tell me George fell out – I always name my guitars after Yankee players – I’m a huge Yankee fan. So 003 is the Babe, 4 is Lou, 5 is Joe D. And then we had the Grail. So I go, “Well, which ones are gone?” And he goes, “George is gone and the Grail is gone.” I go, “You motherf***ers! You gotta be f***in’ kiddin’ me! What the f***!”
I recorded all the Ozzy stuff with that guitar… wrote my first tune with him on it, recorded pretty much everything.
Anyway, the thing was found in a pawn shop, where someone had sold it for $250; ya’ know, it’s beat up, and I suppose when someone walked in with it, they offered him $250. And the guy who bought it opened up the pickup cavity, and it had my initials on the bottom of the pickups. So he got in touch with Randy, one of the guys who does our website, and told him he might have one of my fiddles.
So we took care of it. And the guy was super-cool. I hooked him up with one of the new signature model Les Pauls.
Did anybody get fired because the trailer was left unlocked?
Well, it was a miracle nobody got f***in’ murdered, ya’ know? Forget gettin’ fired!
My original question was, “Did anybody suffer bodily harm…”
Yeah, that would’ve been even better.
Do you acquire guitars just for the sake of getting them?
I’ll buy something if I really like it. ‘Cuz I don’t have Lambourghinis – I don’t waste my money on that crap. And even though I’ve got a Marshall signature head, I’ll still buy a JCM 800. And I still have all my 2203s. If I see one of those in a music store, I’ll buy it. Or if I see one in VG… every time I open that thing, it’s like window shopping. I’ll underline things, and maybe check ’em out. It’s like going through Toys R Us.
Where did you get the ’57 Gibson Les Paul Junior?
That’s the one Ozzy got me on my 24th birthday. When Sabbath first came out, they opened for Mountain, and Ozzy thought Leslie West had the thickest guitar sound, so he picked me up one of those. I use it for most of the clean stuff in the studio, running through a Roland Jazz Chorus.
And I got a new one – a ’57 Special reissue, with the TV finish, and it sounds f***in’ great, too. And I’ve got a ’58 red double-cutaway – Les Paul signed the back of the thing. I used that when we were doing the Ozzmosis record. We recorded the album in Paris and finished it in New York. So I’d go down to 48th Street every day before we went into the studio, just to check out all the fiddles. Michael Beinhorn (the album’s producer) got me that guitar while we were tracking. It sounded great on the tracks, so he said, “You like it? It’s yours.” I was like, “Get the f*** outta here…”
I also bought a ’65 SG, red with a single P-90 with the crappy whammy with the big plastic piece on the end. It moves about a 1/4″. Basically, you can only use it for very light trem. I think the Floyd Rose has surpassed it (laughs). But that thing sounds great for the clean s***.
I take all of them to the studio and use whichever one sounds best. I could record everything with one of my normal Les Pauls with the EMGs, but those P-90s have such a real, warm sound to them.
’70s Gibson RD Artist.
Gibson reissue Les Paul Special in TV yellow.
You’ve recently scored a couple of Randy Rhoads copy guitars, one a Jackson, one built by GMW Guitar Works in Glendora, California. Is there an endorsement deal in the works?
No, I got them as gifts. I’m endorsed by Gibson. I’m a Gibson guy. I’ve got a bunch of different guitars though. Dime had a few made for me… on the back of the headstock it says, “Built for Zakk Wylde at the request of Dimebag,” in his handwriting. The thing is slammin’!
Because I’m such a huge fan of Randy’s, I wanted a white V like his Jackson. My wife got in touch with Jackson and had an exact replica made by Mike Shannon, who made Randy’s originally. I had Mrs. Rhoads sign the back of the headstock. Fortunately, I get to see Mrs. Rhoads all the time, as my 12-year-old daughter, Rae, takes piano lessons from her. It’s actually the school where Mrs. Rhoads taught Randy to play guitar.
When we were in the studio making Mafia and looking at the Randy Rhoads’ website, we found the polka dot V made by GMW. My children bought me that one for my birthday, and we went to Pasadena to pick it up. I’m going to use it live… it sounds awesome!
When I first got it, I was out in the garage, wailing on the fiddle, and I called Dime – this was about two weeks before the bulls*** went down (Ed Note: “Dimebag” Darrell Abbott was shot to death while onstage in Columbus, Ohio, on December 8; see VG, March ’05. Wylde and Abbott were longtime friends) – and said, “Check this out.” And I’m wailing on the Floyd, doing divebombs, goin’ nuts shreddin’. I said, “Dude, I’m invincible now!” (laughs) He goes, “You sound like Dimebag, you ***hole!” I said, “I know! Better watch it, ya’ bastard!”
The Jackson doesn’t have a locking nut, so I don’t use the whammy all that much. Even Randy didn’t use it that much. But with the GMW’s Floyd, you can go nuts. But if you break a string, it goes completely out of tune.
Are you looking for any particular vintage guitars to add to the collection?
Obviously, I love collecting the stuff, but I’ve got so much s*** right now. Like anyone else, I get different guitars for different reasons; I got a Danelectro because it’s got the lipstick pickups, which sound more chimey than the P-90s. I got the two doublenecks, a Tele, a Strat, the reverse Firebird, normal Firebirds, and all types of cool acoustics. So I’ve got all the bases covered. I could start a rental company – Black Label Rentals!
I went down to Rudy’s in New York City, and he showed me this ’59 Les Paul that he was selling for $140,000. I picked it up… it was light as hell and played great, but the only thing I kept thinking in the back of my head was, “You dumb f***in’ mick kraut jackass! Do not f***in’ drop the damn fiddle!” Ya’ drop the thing and it’s like, “Barb… I wrote a check today for 140 grand.” “You whaaat!”
Talk about the tour.
BLS worldwide domination will begin in March, first in the United States, then in Japan, Europe, and back to the States. I hope to be doing Ozzfest, because it’s the only ass-kicking summer tour in the U.S.
Where’s your head at in regard to Dime?
It’s nuts, but he’s around all the time. When things get dark and bleak, Dime will be there. I’ve got two houses on 10 acres, and I usually get relegated to the garage to do my jamming, work on stuff, and have a beer or two. And I’ve never had birds fly into my garage, but I was out there the other day, just chillin’ out, working on a guitar, and a f***in’ bird flies in and lands on this Les Paul copy that my buddy, Rob, made into a clock. I said, “Hey, Dime. Whaddya’ doin’, bro?” He’s just hanging out in there. So I know he’s around.
I had talked to him when he was in Boston, when I’d just gotten the Rhoads guitars. They were making their way to Ohio, and we were planning on hooking up at the NAMM show, ‘cuz he was going to introduce the new Dean guitar and the Krank amps. We were all stoked, but he was really excited, because he put a lot of thought into designing the new guitar.
But it’s unbelievable. I’ll be hanging around the house, cool, but then see a picture of him, and I’ll just start breaking down. I’m definitely never gonna get over it.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s May ’05 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Not to be confused with a live DVD of the same name, which was released in 2008 and quickly vanished, this is part of Stefan Grossman’s “Guitar Artistry Of” series.
Playing only his signature model Martin acoustic, Bromberg is alone for most of this, with Grossman serving as off-screen interviewer, and guitarist/mandolinist Bobby T – dueting with David on five of the set’s 20 songs.
Faithful to Bromberg’s eclecticism, the repertoire runs the gamut from blues to gospel to bluegrass to ragtime and more. It’s almost disconcerting to see a crowd pleaser of Bromberg’s caliber playing only to the camera, but the format lends itself to his between-song anecdotes, which are both insightful and entertaining, and features terrific camera work, with clear views of both hands – fingerpicking, flatpicking, and playing slide.
He talks about recording with Bob Dylan before performing “It Takes A Lot to Laugh, A Train To Cry,” marvels at Blind Blake’s prowess before “Chump Man Blues,” and recalls meeting Lonnie Johnson before playing a sparse, almost spooky rendition of “Levee Camp Moan.”
The 63-year-old, who in 2007 released his first album in 17 years, can be forgiven if his chops aren’t quite as adept as they once were. If you want to hear ragtime played flawlessly, there are folks like Guy Van Duser (or, for that matter, Grossman). But a little rough around the edges though it may be, Bromberg’s playing is full of personality – not unlike his mentor, Rev. Gary Davis, whom he references more than once. And the highlight of the one hour, 40 minute set is perhaps the simplest from a technical standpoint, Paul Siebel’s poignant “Spanish Johnny.”
Bromberg’s comeback CD earned him a much-deserved Grammy nomination. This DVD is an additional celebration of a master musician’s return to active duty.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s Mar. ’09 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
First impressions of Allen Amplification’s new Accomplice Jr. begin to form even before you open the box – it’s so light you might think (as we did), “Did they ship just a head?” But our fears were assuaged when we cracked open the box to reveal a gig-ready 1×12″ combo that weighed in at just 38 pounds.
Like Allen’s larger Accomplice model, the Accomplice Jr. is a hand-made all-tube unit that pumps out 22 watts (with a pair of 6V6 power tubes) or 35 watts (with 6L6s), and also uses four 12AX7 preamp tubes along with a GZ34 rectifier. Like its progenitor, it operates in Class AB push/pull with controls for Volume, Treble, Middle, Bass, Reverb and Master volume. There’s also a Bright switch and a knob labeled “Raw.” Switches for Power and Standby are mounted on the backside of the chassis.
The Accomplice Jr. ships in three familiar configurations; 1×10″ or 1×12″ combo, or as a head. We recently took a swing at a 1×12″ loaded with an Eminence Patriot Red White & Blue speaker.
Similar to its bigger sibling, the visuals of the Accomplice Jr. will appeal to anyone who lusts after a pre-CBS Fender amp, with black tolex, silver-sparkle grillecloth, and vintage cream knobs that combine to say “Leo.” The blackface control panel and logo lettering complete a very Fullerton-esque package.
And as attractive as it is outside, for the tube-amp lover, the inside of the Accomplice Jr. is true nirvana. The chassis, housed in a finger-jointed pine cabinet, is 18-gauge stainless steel with spot-welded corners. The unbelievably tidy point-to-point soldering connects solid-core PVC wiring on a glass epoxy circuitboard with brass eyelets. Switchcraft jacks and Carling switches send electrical signal through carbon-film resistors to Mallory M150 and CDM silver-mica capacitors. The transformers and the choke are made in the U.S.; the proprietary Allen TP25 power transformer features a center-tapped heater winding and internal hum shield, and is made with M-6 lamination steel Allen says helps keep it cool. The TO35MT power transformer features a paper bobbin, also made from M-6. The Reverb is a two-spring, medium-delay Accutronics unit that’s entirely tube-driven. Allen uses TAD 6L6 power tubes because he says they do a better job of staying matched than do other brands.
The circuit is essentially borrowed from a Fender Deluxe Reverb, except it has only one channel and no vibrato. However, the Bright switch more than makes up for the lack of a second channel. There are also controls for Middle tone and Master volume, which make getting your tone at any volume much more accessible than on a Deluxe.
The first tones we heard through the Accomplice Jr. were created by a recent-issue Gibson Les Paul Special with Rio Grande Jazzbar and Bluesbar P-90-style pickups, a TonePros ABR bridge, and aluminum tailpiece. They teamed up to produce a snarl that was just plain < I>malevolent. With the bridge Bluesbar engaged, the EQ knobs set to straight-up 12 o’clock, and the volume at 10 o’clock, our LP Special parlayed a bright-but-smooth tone. Moving the volume up smoothed out the tone and noticeably reduced high-end response. With the volume knob at about 2 o’clock, distortion was full and creamy.
Turning up the Raw knob put a beautiful edge on the Accomplice Jr.’s distorted tones. This is not an understated control that makes you say, “Yeah, I think it did something.” No, sir. While the Volume and Master controls help you dial in the basic level of overdrive, it’s the Raw knob that lets you fine-tune the distortion, making it easy to find the right sound.
Engaging the Bright switch and rolling back the Volume, we got a nice jangle. Solos at this setting produced an almost country/Telecaster sound. Flicking to the neck pickup and disengaging the Bright switch put the Special on the border of big-box jazz. With the Bright engaged, the neck pickup offered a very beefy-sounding Strat-like tone that Eric Johnson or Stevie Ray would likely appreciate.
Plugging in our hardtail Strat with DiMarzio Virtual Vintage pickups, we switched off the Bright and, using the neck pickup only, got a full-bodied, throaty sound. The pickup sounded better with the Bright switch engaged, while the middle pickup was ambivalent. When the issue was clarity of tone, the middle pickup preferred to have the Bright engaged. For smoother distortion, though, it sounded better with the Bright turned off.
Given its power, light weight, high-quality components, construction, and stellar tones, the Accomplice Jr. is a no-brainer recommendation. In a world of amps with similar appointments that start at $2,500, it’s a steal.
Price $1,399 (retail). Contact Allen Amplification, 1325 Richwood Road, Walton, KY 41094; phone (859) 485-6423; www.allenamps.com.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s May 2007 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
1977 Ibanez Destroyer Bass, serial number H775153. Photo: Ward Meeker/Doug Yellow Bird. Instrument courtesy of Marty’s Music.
The early/mid 1970s were the “glory days” for imported copies of classic American-made guitars and basses.
Back then, the “vintage” vibe as it related to American-made electric guitars was in its infancy. Still, much like today, few players could afford the real deal. Accordingly, brands such as Ibanez, Aria, and Electra proffered guitars and basses that were cosmetically very close to Gibson and Fender models from the 1950s and ’60s. Litigation ensued, and not surprisingly, some copy guitars from the ’70s have been hyped in the used/vintage market as “lawsuit models.” Often, imported “copy guitars” had bolt-on necks (where the original models had set necks) or they melded cosmetics from more than one model. One example was an early-’70s Aria copy of a Gibson Firebird, with a “non-reverse” body attached to a neck with a quasi-reverse headstock and upside-down tuners. Emboldened by the sales of their instruments, importers soon brought copies of even more classic models, made with greater attention to detail. These sometimes included copies of guitars originally made in minute quantities.
In the mid ’70s, Ibanez went after the ultimate American rarities when it introduced copies of Gibson’s “modernistic” trio of electric guitars from the late ’50s; its Rocket Roll model was a copy of the Flying V, the Destroyer channeled the Explorer, and the Futura was a nod to the patented (but never produced) Moderne. Among other details, these instruments attempted to reproduce the translucent natural finish on the bodies of the Gibson guitars’ limba wood, an African species that resembled mahogany. The bodies on most Ibanez korinas looked like ash, but were actually a type of mahogany known as “sen.”
The success of the Ibanez retro trio motivated the company to create two basses that gave a serious nod to late-’50s Gibsons, but weren’t copies per se; the Rocket Roll Bass was inspired by the Flying V and actually preceded Gibson’s Flying V bass, which went into production in 1981. On the other hand, Gibson did make at least one Explorer bass as a custom order in the early ’60s, using parts from other models.
The Ibanez Destroyer Bass is also relatively rare. While the model appears on a 1977 U.S. price list as “2459B Destroyer Bass, Long Scale… $450,” a search of American catalogs from the era did not turn up a photo of the Destroyer Bass. What’s more, many ’70s Ibanez catalogs of replica models have few, if any, specifications, and are basically photo galleries (same goes for other copy brands of that time, such as Electra).
However, Ibanez collector John Shanley, who is also webmaster of the Ibanez Collectors World website, noted that an image of the Destroyer Bass was published in a 1977 German catalog, which indicates that certain models were made for Europe. Vintage-instrument authority and VG contributor Michael Wright describes the inconsistent marketing of Ibanez models in the U.S. and Europe as “not uncommon,” and it isn’t surprising when one considers the diversity of the company’s copy lineup at the time.
But the Destroyer Bass wasn’t a blatant copy of the Explorer bass; it did not have the Kalamazoo creation’s short scale or banjo-style tuners, a la Gibson’s first electric bass (the violin-shaped EB) and other Gibsons of the era. But, like its Gibson inspiration, the Ibanez does have a scimitar/banana-shaped headstock and a serial number embossed on the back of the headstock that indicates a manufacture date of August, 1977. Its machine heads are standard Ibanez part number 303 Artist units, and its set neck has a 20-fret rosewood fingerboard with dot markers and a scale length of 331/2″. The yellow-tinted sen body does indeed recall Gibson’s korina, and does look like ash. And like the Explorer, it has a single-ply white pickguard.
Other differences include the Destroyer’s electronics – a split-single-coil Fender Precision-style pickup in the neck position and a Jazz-style pickup at the bridge (Ibanez 2365-50 and 2365-60 Super Bass units). In bass parlance, this configuration later became known as the “P/J” layout, and preceded Fender’s adaptation by about a decade. The barrel-shaped knobs control a master tone and two volume pots, and the three-point suspension bridge matches the bridge on mid-’70s Gibson models such as the Ripper and RD Bass.
The Destroyer Bass is relatively balanced given its shape, and plays similar to a Gibson Thunderbird. In all, it’s a unique example from the heyday of upper-tier import copies from three decades ago.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s April ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Any guitarist who can play Emerson Lake & Palmer’s “Karn Evil 9” and nail the keyboard solo is a bad motor scooter. Paul Gilbert is one such guy. From his early days with the neo-classical metal band Racer X to the Grammy nominated Mr. Big, Gilbert has always played scarifying guitar. With 11 solo albums in his back pocket, Gilbert’s latest offering, Space Ship One, continues to display his fondness for Beatlesque power-pop, spellbinding shred, and left-field covers. It’s a treat for guitar freaks and pop fanatics alike.
Vintage Guitar: For a shredder, you’ve got a great pop sensibility. Paul Gilbert: Thank you. I hope I have a great metal sensibility as well (laughs)! I always crack up because the words “pop” and “sensibility” are always used together. You never hear anyone say “metal sensibility.” I’m starting that right here! And the word “shred,” to this day, gives me the willies. It was invented way after I was interested in fast guitar. I started playing in the ’70s. I was into Jimmy Page. My heroes were Joe Perry and Brad Whitford. By the time the shred people came around, I was more interested in figuring out Todd Rungren pop songs and keyboard parts from Emerson Lake & Palmer.
Do you feel like a pop songwriter trapped in a shredders body?
I don’t feel trapped, because I have freedom to do what I want. I want to be a good guitar player, and to me, that meant taking away as many limitations as possible. To be able to speak through the instrument without having technique get in the way.
What is it with you and post-punk power pop?
I like The Ramones. I love Green Day! I’ve always loved Cheap Trick, and I’ve always loved taking the structures of The Beatles and making it a little harder. If you added up the shred guitar music I’ve listened to as a fan over the last 10 years, it might add up to about half an hour. I think I’d be much more successful if I decided to be a solo guitar instrumentalist, hopped on a G3 tour, and only played harmonic minor scales really fast. But I have to play what I like. I like pop music and I love crazy guitar and I have to put them together. I love the juxtaposition.
Talk about Space Ship One.
It was the first time I’d really done a record in a big studio since my Mr. Big days. We played the whole album pretty much as a concert. Because we did a lot of rehearsing, I got more influenced by the other musicians than I normally would. That pushed it in a more rock direction because I tend to write more pop songs than I should. The first half of the album is pretty straight heavy rock with progressive or metal elements. The second half has more pop stuff. There’s a rockabilly number, a cover of George Harrison’s “It’s All Too Much,” and there’s an acoustic song.
What kind of gear are you using?
A Laney VC50 2×12″ combo. And I love my ADA Flanger – I get to pretend I’m Pat Travers. I’m a huge Pat Travers fan. I’ve gotten so much from his playing and his sound. I’m trying to bring it to the kids. I’m also using the MXR Phase 90 because I love old Van Halen solos. I collect Ibanez guitars from the ’70s and ’80s. I’m playing a killer Rocket Roll II.
What is it about Pat Travers?
When I went to GIT, I discovered diatonic harmony and three-note-per-string scales. It was a very powerful feeling. I thought this explained all music, because I was into Iron Maiden-ish heavy metal at the time. Whenever I’d go to a blues jam, I would sound horrible. None of the minor scales worked. I had no vocabulary in that style. I had one once but getting into diatonic harmony and metal destroyed my blues playing. Pat’s Go For What You Know album saved my soul in that sense. I started figuring out the solos on it, and redeveloping a blues vocabulary. When I say “blues,” it’s more rock with a blues tonality. I love the sound of his vibrato and phrasing, the ease with which he played, and what he did with the flanger and wah. Guitar players of the ’70s and early ’80s had a real ease and finesse about the way they played. That’s what I like about Pat Travers – he’s a rocker.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s Oct. ’05 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
