The RAJ-126 has a solid AA grade Sitka spruce top and solid African Mahogany back and sides. It’s finished in vintage sunburst with a classic firestripe pickguard, and ivory Golden Age tuning machines.

The RAJ-116 has the same AA grade Sitka top with Mahogany back and sides. It’s finished in natural, with the same firestripe pickguard but with vintage-style Grover tuners.

Donald “Duck” Dunn at the Lakland 10th Anniversary celebration. Photo: Chuck Cherney.

In the history of popular music, the story of Memphis-based Stax Records stands as a unique, enduring legacy.

Memphis was the focal point of the gritty, greasy southern soul music in the 1960s, and Stax was the label. And two bands – the Mar-Keys, and Booker T. & The MGs – were especially important to the “Memphis soul” sound. The latter group not only garnered numerous hits of its own, it was a notable backing band for Stax artists, in the studio and onstage.

Memphis native Donald “Duck” Dunn was not only the bassist for the MGs, he took part in other Stax projects, including recording famous tunes such as Aretha Franklin’s “Respect,” Otis Redding’s “Dock Of The Bay” and “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long,” and Wilson Pickett’s “The Midnight Hour.” He also backed Isaac Hayes in a piano/bass/drums jazz trio on Hayes’ first album, Presenting Isaac Hayes and Jerry Lee Lewis on his 1972 album, Southern Roots.

In the ensuing decades, Dunn worked with a number of other artists, including guitarists Mike Bloomfield and Duane Allman. His resumé also includes a four-year stint with Eric Clapton and being hand-selected by John Belushi and Dan Ackroyd for their band, the Blues Brothers, which scored a major hit in ’78 with its cover of “Soul Man.”

We recently sat with the legend of low-end to discuss his long and laudable career.

Vintage Guitar: An early picture of The Mar-Keys shows you with an upright bass. Did you have any formal music training.

Donald Dunn: I didn’t play an upright (chuckles)! I had an upright at one time, and tried to learn how to play it. But I was working in the studio so much I didn’t have time. I didn’t have my electric bass in the studio the day of the photo session, but that upright was there, so I picked it up.

When I left the Mar-Keys and went into the studio with Steve (Cropper) and Booker, I didn’t have time to play it anymore. It was a blond Kay (upright); later, I loaned it a friend’s son, and it was destroyed in a car wreck.

So you’ve always been an electric bassist?
Yeah; the first one I had was a Kay, I believe. I had a Silvertone amp, but I was never happy with the Kay as long as I saw Fenders hanging in the music store window (chuckles)! One day, my brother went out on a limb for me and co-signed for a Fender, because I wasn’t of age to buy it. I knew once I got it in my hands, I’d be a better player.

For lack of a better term, didn’t you “integrate” Ben Branch’s band?
I sure did. I had the P-Bass. And it was all music to me – Ben’s band played the music I grew up on – the 5 Royales, Hank Ballard, Ray Charles stuff.

The most well-known Booker T. & the MGs lineup included Booker Jones on keyboards, Steve Cropper on guitar, Al Jackson on drums, and you on bass. But you weren’t the original bassist, right?
No, that was Lewis Steinberg. He was a great “walking” bass player, but the R&B scene started getting syncopated. And that’s what happened at Stax. I did syncopated bass more than walking lines; I usually held my thumb on the top edge of the pickguard and played with my first two fingers, and I wore the finish down to the wood where my thumb was.

I had one P-Bass that went down with Otis Redding, and I had a ’58 maple-neck. There’s a picture of me with Booker T. & the MGs where I’m holding Lewis’ bass, with his initials on it! Again, I didn’t know they were takin’ pictures that day, and I didn’t know I was going to be in the picture, so I grabbed Lewis’ bass.

What amps did you use in the ’60s?
In the studio, I used an Ampeg B-15, but the one I really wanted – which everybody wanted – was a (Fender) Bassman. I got a piggyback Bassman, but I never liked it much. In ’67, I got a Kustom tuck-and-roll amp, and I’ve still got it.

Donald "Duck" Dunn with his Duck Dunn signature model Lakland bass. Photo: Paul Natkin.

How about at the Monterey Pop Festival?
(pauses) It was probably a rental amp; I don’t think I carried anything out there. I don’t remember putting an amplifier on an airplane, but if I did, it probably would have been the Kustom. We probably ran through a backline that was already there.

Judging by the “Monterey Pop” documentary, you were fairly well immersed in the moment.
I’ve seen some old videos and pictures from that night, and I was amazed at how much I moved, with the notes I was playin’. I guess it was kind of a way of keepin’ time instead of pattin’ my foot!

The music at Monterey was quite diverse, wasn’t it?
Well, I think we were the only ones there in mohair suits (laughs)! A lot of the rest of ’em were in that tie-dyed, psychedelic stuff. Years later, I bumped into Tommy Smothers at the San Francisco airport. He remembered introducing us and Otis Redding at Monterey.

Didn’t Otis play guitar?
Yeah, but he tuned to open strings. I can’t recall that he played on any recordings, but he would sit down and show us a song on guitar.

There were numerous other pop festivals in those times, most larger than Monterey. Did the MGs play any others?
We played at a racetrack in Atlanta, and one in California – somewhere near L.A.

When Booker T. & the MGs broke up the first time, you did a lot of sessions until the Blues Brothers brought you back into the public eye.
My son is putting together a website on me, and I can’t believe some of the stuff I did, including a lot with Levon Helm. That’s actually how I got into the Blues Brothers – the horn section played some stuff with Levon on “Saturday Night Live.”

You played with some legendary guitarists; you were on the live double album Fathers and Sons, which included Mike Bloomfield.
Buddy Miles played on that album, too. I was on an Allman Brothers album, and of course, I spent about four years with Eric Clapton.

The Blues Brothers was a band of veteran musicians backing actors/comedians, like Dan Ackroyd and John Belushi. How did you feel about that?
The band was so sincere that it didn’t matter. How could anybody not want to work with John and Dan? I was really kind of hesitant to do that show, but my wife talked me into it, and other than Booker’s band, that’s the most fun band I’ve ever been in.

How do you describe the moviemaking experience?
It was different. You had to get up at 4:30 every mornin’, and then a lot of times you’d wait around until 10 and they’d say, “Okay, we’re not gonna need you today.” (chuckles) And I had a few speaking parts. I don’t remember what bass I was using in the movie, but it wasn’t my regular ’58. When they did the second movie, Fender had come out with a Duck Dunn signature model, and I used that.

After the Blues Brothers came your affiliation with Clapton.
He was really fun to play with; I was with him from ’83 to ’86. I did two albums with him, Money and Cigarettes and Behind the Sun.

Dunn gets into the groove in 1979 with Bill Black’s Fender Precision at Cherokee Studios, Los Angeles. Photo courtesy of Donald "Duck" Dunn.

Clapton recorded the excellent “Live Now” concert video in 1985. Was there any talk about releasing it as a live album?
I didn’t hear anything about that. But that gig was right around the time we were wrapping up that tour, and it was a good show that night.

At one point you played at Peavey Dyna-Bass…
I played a Peavey from ’84 to ’86. I had a band called the Coolers, and I was playing one when Dan Ackroyd sat in with us. I never had any problems with it, but I’ve always been a Fender person. Then Dan Lakin came along and made one I liked even better.

What about amps in those times?
I was using a Gallien-Kreuger top, with Ampeg SVT cabinets; I like the ones with eight 10″ speakers. Those sound really good.

Another item you usually had onstage in those times was a pipe.
Yeah, but I gave that up 10 or 11 years ago, when I had a bout with throat cancer. I’m now cancer-free.

Booker T. & the MGs were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1992. What do you remember about that event?
It was wonderful. I got a call from the Hall of Fame; they told me we’d been voted in on our first nomination – it don’t get any better than that! Little Richard was there; I loved him when I was in high school.

Touch on the Duck Dunn signature model Fender Precision Bass.
That was around 1998; it was a Japanese-made limited edition. It was Candy Apple Red with a maple neck. I have the first two made.

You’ve got a new signature bass from Lakland, and you played – along with Bob Glaub, Joe Osborne, and Darryl Jones – at an event last March sponsored by Lakland in Chicago.
I had another 1961 Candy Apple Red Fender, and the Precision neck was kind of thick, so I put a Jazz neck on it. That one was kind of used for the Duck Dunn model that Lakland is about to release. Dan Lakin saw a picture of it, and he designed one for me. I played (the Lakland prototype) down in Dallas at that Eric Clapton Crossroads festival. The first one he gave me is a natural finish, and I’ve been playing it ever since; I’m extremely happy with it. I like the white block markers; some of the shows I play, they turn the lights down, and I’ve got to see that neck! (chuckles).

What other instruments do you own?
I’ve got three other Laklands, two other Fender Precisions and a Travis Bean, which was a gift from Steve Cropper. I think it really sounds good on ballads in the studio. I also have a 1966 Gibson Firebird, which was a gift from Cliff Williams with AC/DC.

Have you still got your original ’58 P-Bass?
Yeah, and I only use that on special occasions. I take that out when I tour with people like Neil Young, because they put it on a truck, and I won’t fly with it ’cause they give me so much crap about putting it in the overhead.

I actually traded it once, years ago, for a five-string Fender with a high C string, which I hated. I went back to a Precision with a rosewood neck, and the guy that took Bill Black’s place in the Bill Black Combo, Bob Tucker, got my bass, and when he got out of the business, he asked if I wanted it back, and he charged me three hundred bucks.

I also had Bill Black’s old bass, which I – like an idiot – decided to sand down with a natural finish. I later painted it metallic blue, and it now hangs in one of the Hard Rock restaurants.

The MGs are still receiving accolades as well; a fairly recent award in Memphis is exemplary.
We won the Governor’s Award for Performing Arts; that was really nice.

You now live on Florida’s Gulf Coast. Why there?
I came down here to live on a golf course. I was touring so much with the Blues Brothers in Europe in the summer that when I’d go home to Memphis, it’d be winter! And I love to play golf, so one day me and my wife visited a pro golf buddy down in Fort Myers, and on the way back, we found a place in Bradenton, and decided to move to Florida. I still play golf, but kinda backed off on it, but I’ve got a boat, too, and my wife found this property on a canal leading into the Gulf of Mexico. She bought it, then we put a house on it.

Dunn displaying his Fender signature model in a 1998 photo. Photo: Rich Morava, courtesy of Donald "Duck" Dunn.

Do you think the story of Stax Records and its place in the history of popular music has been accurately presented?
Some it has, some of hasn’t, I think. I didn’t do it all down there, but I know some things that went on. I’d rather remember the good ones. I know some people that claim they did some things, that didn’t. As for the music, it holds its own. When you’re recording music, you take it for granted. We didn’t know how popular it was until we did that (1967) tour in Europe.

And those records still hold up today. To have been able to play with Otis Redding and all those other artists was just phenomenal.

This article originally appeared in VG February 2006 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

Guitarist/singer Jeff Massey is the focal point, and his slide playing is the predominant element much of the time. His tone is as Gibson-esque as you could get on tunes like “Fire Away,” where a descending chord sequence turns into a soulful rock solo. The band (Tod Bowers on bass and Joe Winters on drums) can write a song that sounds new and intimately familiar all at the same time. “All the Way to Nowhere” is a riff-driven tune that proves it. “The Stars Look Good Tonight” is a hook-driven pop-rocker with crunchy chords and an arpeggiodriven solo.

The Steepwater Band is carrying on a tradition, of sorts, and the appreciative audience here knows that. This is music with big guitar riffs, fine solos, great lyrics, and gritty vocals.

This article originally appeared in VG‘s June ’11 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

1) A bit of a surprise that Gretsch made Chet Atkins 6120 hollowbody in four-string tenor format. Perhaps the only one of its kind, this ’58 example was the first guitar in the 100-unit 6120 model batch #284xx. The four-pole Filter’Tron pickups were specifically made to accommodate the format. The dot fretboard markers are pedestrian compared to the neo-classic markers on the standard 6120, and the G tailpiece and modified space-control bridge were practical departures from the six-string. Photo courtesy of George Gruhn.

2) Replacing the 6185 model late in 1953, the 6182 model (ultimately named “Corvette”) was almost identical. This early example belongs to the last batch (#126xx) produced before the advent of the adjustable truss rod (with headstock-located cover). This is also the last batch labeled with the dual model stamp. This specimen’s model stamp shows the typical designation of 6182-3 stamped in ink, but also has a “T” suffix written in pencil. It has a standard six-pole DeArmond Dynasonic pickup, and all the other features are consistent with the conventional six-string Corvette. Several of these have surfaced in the four-string tenor orientation, likely one-off custom orders. Photo courtesy of Steve Wilson.

In the 1950s and early ’60s, the electric guitar was establishing itself as a key part of the new voice of popular music. Amplification provided its volume, and innovative artists were pushing the envelope of sound that could be offered by six strings. So it’s interesting that in a time referred to in retrospect as the “Golden Era” of the electric guitar, major manufacturers were also producing similar electrified instruments with only four strings.

Tenor guitars initially became popular in the 1920s when musical tastes motivated a move by many musicians away from the banjo, toward the guitar. The four-string tenor made for an easy transition, as it could be tuned like a tenor banjo – CGDA fifths. Into the early ’30s, the guitar was primarily a rhythm instrument. Sonically challenged within the ensemble format of a large band, it was typically relegated to the percussive accompaniment of other lead instruments. However, even before the mid-decade advent of amplification, guitars were being pushed into a greater role with virtuoso artists such as Eddie Lang, Lonnie Johnson, and Django Reinhardt mastering the complexities of the acoustic. Likewise, the Delmore Brothers, a pioneering country music duo comprised of Alton on an acoustic six-string and Rabon on a Martin O-18T, were lead instrumentalists in that genre, introducing a country-boogie beat and inspired acoustic solo work that ultimately earned them induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2001.

By the ’30s, many major guitar manufacturers had started producing standard and custom-order tenor versions of their popular six-string acoustic guitars. When Gretsch introduced a line of self-branded acoustic archtops in 1933, it included a four-string tenor (Model 240) in its American Orchestra lineup. Not big sellers, they nonetheless filled a relevant niche. Interestingly, in a circa-1936 Gretsch brochure is a notation that pledges, “Any standard model of Gretsch guitar can be duplicated in tenor style… at no increase in price.” This explains why some Gretsch tenor acoustics from the ’30s have surfaced with different features than the standard Model 240. Even more impressively, the brochure promises “…delivery in three weeks from the date of order.”

3) The 16” 6185 Electromatic was Gretsch’s first electric archtop tenor. The model preceded the adjustable truss rod and used a six-pole DeArmond Dynasonic pickup. This is a later specimen (#108xx batch) with block-style fretboard markers being the sole departure from the six-string 6185. Since tenors were custom-ordered, the factory would use whatever necks were in stock at the time. Photo courtesy of Steve Wilson.

4) Several specimens of the Gretsch Anniversary model have been documented in the four-string tenor format. The six-string Anniversary was successful, in part because of its competitive list price. This guitar (from the #400xx batch) is a gorgeous example in two-tone green. The four-pole Hi-Lo’Tron pickup and Space-Control bridge are optimized for the tenor format. Anniversary tenors produced prior to the 1960 transition to the Hi-Lo’Tron pickup technology have the Filter’Tron-style pickup. Photo courtesy of Steve Pyott.

5) The Model 240 was first offered in 1933. This example possesses several features from circa 1940, including the style of its f-hole, standard sunburst finish, and extra binding on the body. The trapeze tailpiece appears to be specific to a four-string, so it was likely a standard item. Some special-order Gretsch tenors were given hardware intended for the six-string guitar. Photo courtesy of Fred Gretsch.

As the ’40s loomed, Gretsch upgraded its guitar offerings, debuting the Synchromatic line of acoustic archtops in 1939. Unlike the previous product line, comprised of midrange variations on the Gibson L-5 archtop, the Synchromatic guitars were distinct, with the higher-end models sporting exotic “cats-eye” soundholes and art deco design motifs. Though the tenor was by then fading in popularity, Gretsch continued to produce the periodic Synchromatic-based tenor. On page 61 of Tony Bacon’s The History of the American Guitar is a photograph of a natural-finished 17″ Synchromatic tenor with cats-eye soundholes. Manufactured in 1953, it was part of 50-unit group (batch #112xx) of six-string Constellation archtops (model 6030-1), all featuring conventional f-holes, confirming this cats-eye tenor as a special-order instrument. This guitar, electrically enabled by the addition of a DeArmond floating pickup, is also a rare example of a Gretsch cats-eye acoustic archtop possessing the single-cutaway body.

One notable jazz artist who by 1940 had embraced the electric tenor was Lloyd “Tiny” Grimes. Known for backing up Art Tatum, Charlie Parker, Billy Holiday, and others, Grimes was influenced by the great Charlie Christian and is remembered for developing a swinging approach to the instrument. This characteristic sound, along with his inclusion as a co-headliner at Alan Freed’s Moondog Coronation Ball in 1952, resulted in some attributing him credit for the invention of an early rock-and-roll sound.

By the ’50s, popular music had evolved and four-string tenor guitars were no longer a standard catalog item. However, the latter decade saw a resurgence of interest in the four-string format as a result of the emergence of Nick Reynolds, guitarist for The Kingston Trio and devotee of Martin tenor acoustics. Reynolds played in DGBE (baritone ukulele) tuning, typically with a capo. And others followed as folk gained popularity.

6) This example is from the latest documented mini-batch of Duo-Jet tenors residing in the #156xx batch, from 1955. It displays the arrow-top control knobs and teardrop-style pickguard. The tailpiece and bridge are not original. Not all tenor Duo-Jets have four-pole DeArmond Dynasonic pickups like this. It’s unclear why some electric tenors had these pickups while others had the standard six-pole variety. Photo courtesy of Fred Gretsch.

7) This 6115 Rambler from the #379xx batch is an interesting example of the four-string tenor adaptation of an uncommon Gretsch model, with four-pole Hi-Lo’Tron pickup. The red truss rod cover is original, and this model typically displays a matching red G on the tailpiece. The pickguard is missing. Photo courtesy of Fred Gretsch.

The mid ’50s represented the heart of the Gretsch electric guitar legacy, and the company would contribute innovation, style, and unique sonic attributes with the guitar models it introduced over the next 10 years. Simultaneously, the six-string electric guitar was rapidly maturing into the most important musical instrument of the 20th century. So it’s a bit ironic that, considering the expansion of its electric guitar line to include some of the most distinctive models of the day, Gretsch was still willing to produce the periodic four-string deviant.

Interestingly, the competition was doing the same; Gibson had been producing the ETG-150 model as a standard tenor electric archtop option since 1937, but other well-known Gibson electrics have surfaced in the tenor format, including anomalous specimens based on the ES-175, ES-5, and ES-330. Gibson solidbody tenor examples of the Les Paul Special and SG-Standard have also been documented. Epiphone and Guild were likewise reported to have created four-string tenor examples of some of their stalwart electric six-string models, as well.

The Gretsch factory is known to have applied the four-string tenor format to a number of its early Electromatic guitar models of the 1950s. Examples of tenor counterparts to the models 6185 (Electromatic), 6182 (Corvette) and 6189 (two-tone finished Streamliner) have all been documented. Likewise, the Anniversary models have been used in the creation of four-string versions of the instruments. In each case, it appears the resulting guitar was a special order, or one-off production example. Gretsch tenor models are usually associated with a typical batch (50 or 100 units) of standard six-strings of the same model, not in conjunction with other tenors.

The exception to that rule appears to be with the application of the tenor format to the Duo-Jet electric solidbody. In this case, research confirms that several small “mini-batches” of four-string Duo-Jets (sometimes with the model designation of 6127, other times with the standard 6128 stamp on the label) were manufactured in the 1954/’55 model years, each in a larger batch of six-string Jet guitars. An educated guess might be that these mini-batches were on the order of 10 guitars each. It is not clear why Gretsch produced multiple Duo-Jet tenor guitars, but they are present in the March, 1954, price list at a suggested retail price of $230, consistent with their six-string counterparts. Other Duo-Jet tenors have surfaced from subsequent model years, including from batches #294xx (’58), 305xx (’59), and 399xx (’60). On page 150 of Akira Tsumura’s Guitars, The Tsumura Collection is a photo of a ’61 (or later) Duo-Jet tenor with the double-cut body the Jet line inherited that year. Each of these post-’55 tenor examples appears to be a custom order or one-off rather than from a mini batch.

One special-order tenor described by Dan Duffy, Gretsch quality manager from 1957 to 1970, is a late-’50s four-string tenor Duo-Jet requested by musician Remo Palmari for presentation to radio/TV talk-show host Arthur Godfrey, who was known for playing a four-string baritone uke.

As the mid ’60s were irrevocably impacted by the British invasion and the Beatles, the rock and roll train was at full throttle. George Harrison’s high-profile use of several Gretsch electric six-string models resulted in an explosion in the popularity of Gretsch electric guitars, and the four-string tenor format was overshadowed, if not abandoned altogether by the company, and Gretsch was sold to the Baldwin Piano Company in the summer of 1967. There have been tenor electric examples documented from that era, but they are exceedingly rare, and almost certainly custom orders. No examples of Gretsch electric tenor guitars have surfaced from the ’70s.

More than a half-century after Gretsch’s golden era (1953 to ’65) began and the electric tenor guitar was popularized, these quirky instruments are found in the collections of musicians and vintage-guitar enthusiasts who play music in a style that accommodates the tenor. Not many contemporary musicians play them, though there has been a minor resurgence of interest over the past few years.

Most Gretsch electric tenors were apparently special-order items, so it’s impossible to determine exactly how many were produced in Gretsch’s Brooklyn factory. This dilemma is compounded by the fact Gretsch records were lost to fires in the ’70s, leaving the precious few surviving electric tenors as the only evidence of their creation.

Edward Ball is the author of an upcoming Gretsch 6120… The History of a Legendary Guitar (Schiffer Books). For more on the style, visit vintagetenorguitars.com.

This article originally appeared in VG July 2010 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

Morgan Monroe Blues 32, Morgan Monroe Creekside MV-01 and Loar LH-200

Picture the archetypal 1930s blues man, photographed with a studio backdrop, jaunty hat, knowing leer…. What else do you see? A guy with not too much money, that’s what! That’s why the guitar in his lap was usually something like a Gibson L model – small, shapely, and sunburst.

The iconic Robert Johnson L-1 was discontinued in 1937, when a Gibson L-0 sold for $25 and an L-00 cost $30. The 2007 equivalent sums are $350 to $420. So, where does that put your typical not-so-heavy-in-the-pocket blues player today?

Morgan Monroe provides a couple of answers in the form of their Creekside MV-01 and Blues 32, two guitars with different but equally pleasing voices.

The Blues 32 is finished in glossy tobacco sunburst, the top shading reminiscent of the later L-00s with a narrower dark outside edge, allowing for more of the tight sitka spruce grain to show. A bit more deluxe than its MV-01 sib, the appointments are still tastefully simple; Grover Sta-Tite tuners, three-layer white/black/white plastic top binding, inlaid maple logo banner, and bone nut and saddle.

Sonically, the Blues 32 is very reminiscent of its L-model inspiration, with a blues-approved sound strong in the mids, but with a full, textured bass and some treble snap.

This tight-sounding box, up to 4³/8” deep, sounds equally good with plectrum or bare fingers: the steely, immediate response just invites a player to dig into classic blues licks and bass patterns and returns the favor by never sounding compressed, even under a heavy right hand. A slim V-neck with diamond volute, attached with an old-school dovetail joint, with 1¹¹/16” nut width and 14” radius, is perfectly comfortable. With a ⁵/16” nut string spacing and 25¹/4” scale, the Blues 32 is easy to play, with good volume and balance.

The Morgan Monroe duo share features other than the bone nuts and saddles: each fingerboard is graced with well-dressed, buzz-free frets.

Generally stellar construction values are visible throughout both guitars, though the MV-01 deviates from the Blues 32 with a slightly bigger body width, narrower body depth, subtle satin-sunburst finish on the top, stainless steel frets, and a tasteful maple binding. The triple-bound neck has a 24³/4” scale length, maple dot inlays, and a contemporary D profile. The greatest difference is in the sound: considerably more body resonance with an airy presence.

Our archetypal blues man would do well with either Morgan Monroe; both offer excellent sound with fine playability, good intonation, solid-but-lightweight construction, and visual appeal. Although the Blues 32 comes out ahead in the 1930s bluesman appeal category for looks and quick-response sound, the MV-01 belies its lower price with its wooden appointments and more complex tonal palate.

The Loar LH-200 strikes immediately as a contender in the looks department “Vintage Vibe” division. The ivory-black-ivory binding, pearl logo and fret markers, abalone fern pattern (craftily overlaid, not inlaid, in an age-old technique utilizing microthin shell) and snakehead-with-vintage-style tuning machines has enough flash to complement any upright archetypal blues man’s better suits and dapper foot/headwear. The Loar flat-top boasts clean construction, good fretwork, modern rounded neck profile, and a classic sunburst finish over a bearclaw spruce top.

The LH-200’s long (20¹/4”) body and 25¹/2” scale length sound strong and play comfortably with its 1¹¹/16” width bone nut (which was cut very, very well). Though the saddle is plastic, intonation out of the box was quite good and all frequencies spoke with authority when played finger-style. With a thick Dunlop pick, the LH-200 summoned up a powerful growl in the bass, strong mids, and a good cut in the high-end frequencies. The LH-200 also featured a long, resonant decay, and fine slide-guitar sustain. We think any Bluesman would be tempted by this slightly pricier Korean-made guitar for all the right reasons; it plays well, sounds great, and leaves a striking visual impression with the generous shellwork on the headstock.

If vintage Kalamazoo and Gibson guitars have an advantage in solid wood and ’30s mojo, these newfangled contenders have more dependable intonation and neck adjustability. All three are good guitars, and represent exceptional values.

Morgan Monroe Blues 32/Creekside MV-01

Price: $499/ $479.95

Contact: Morgan Monroe, 1922 West Banta, Indianapolis, Indiana 46217; phone (800) 475-7686; www.morganmonroe.com.

The Loar LH-200

Price: $699.95

Contact: The Music Link, PO Box 162, Brisbane, CA 94005;  phone (415) 570-0985; www.theloar.com.

This article originally appeared in VG July 2008 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

Ca. 1983 G&L EL Toro. Photo: Bill Ingalls, Jr. Instrument courtesy of Mark Luciani.

At the beginning of 1983, Leo Fender was just more than three years into his last guitar-manufacturing venture when he decided to diversify the company’s bass lineup.

Until that point, G&L had marketed the one-pickup L-1000, the two-pickup L-2000, and the no-frills SB-1 and SB-2 models – all with fairly traditional, straightforward designs. The brand’s reputation was growing among professional musicians, and befittingly, the then-new El Toro wasn’t radical – a basic two-pickup instrument just slightly different (cosmetically and electronically) from the L-2000.

The first El Toro was completed in March of ’83 and the model initially listed on an August 1 price sheet. Similar to the L-2000, which was offered in active and passive versions, the El Toro was touted as a passive instrument with an optional preamp. However, like the passive L-2000, the passive version of the El Toro also didn’t pass muster and was discontinued within six months in favor of a standard active version. The example shown here is passive.

Necks on the El Toro were maple and had a 34″-scale with 21 nickle-silver frets. They joined the body at the 16th fret on the bass side, 19th on the treble side. Fretboard wood options included maple, rosewood, and ebony. The bodies were mahogany, ash, or maple, and the earliest examples have a slab-type body (without belly or forearm bevels); this one has the contours acquired a bit later. Like many natural-finished G&Ls, the ash body of this example has striking grain patterns. The control plate, bridge, and neckplate are in the black “crinkled” finish found on G&Ls of the era.

The El Toro’s body looks similar to the L series, with slight variations. Side-by-side with an L-1000 made the same year, this El Toro’s body is slightly smaller and its forearm bevel and belly cut are more pronounced.

The El Toro was the first of two G&L basses to use the smaller humbucking Magnetic Field Design (M.F.D.) pickups; they were later used on the even-rarer Interceptor Bass and have four adjustable polepieces for each string, whereas the pickups on the L series had two adjustable poles per string.

The rotary controls are for Volume, Treble, and Bass, while the black-capped three-way mini-toggle switch near the Volume selects pickups; the red two-position mini-toggle allows standard pickup switching in one position, but in the other position bypasses the pickup switch and boosts both pickups – an unusual configuration, especially for a passive instrument

Like many early G&Ls, finishes on the El Toro were all over the map; some natural-finish examples had black headstocks, an in-house designation for instruments displayed at a NAMM show.

The El Toro apparently wasn’t built after 1988, when G&L began concentrating on retro-style guitars and basses that had a reproduction of Leo Fender’s signature on the upper bout. Overall, less than 1,200 were made. It’s an interesting, rare, and nice-sounding alternative instrument.

Special thanks to Paul Bechtoldt and Steve “The Surfin’ Librarian” Soest.

This article originally appeared in VG August 2010 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

Wood with his ’55 Fender Stratocaster in 2007. Photo: Neil Lupin/Getty Images.

“I’ve always wanted to rock,” gushes 63-year-old Ron Wood, whose journey from the shy 10-year-old washboard player in older brother Ted’s ’50s skiffle group, to the renowned veteran guitarist in “The World’s Greatest Rock and Roll Band,” has been one wild joyride.

Born Ronald David Wood on June 1, 1947, in London’s Hillingdon section to a family he describes as “water gypsies,” like most of his British contemporaries, Wood was also smitten by the first wave of American rockers. By ’64, the 17-year-old was proficient enough on guitar to join The Birds, an R&B-influenced outfit that was part of the first wave of English bands following the Beatles’ lead. After little commercial success, the group disbanded.

Wood’s first real break was joining the first edition of The Jeff Beck Group in 1968 as a bassist, along with a young gravely-voiced Rod Stewart on vocals. Following just two albums, Truth and Beck-Ola, Wood and Stewart left to join bassist Ronnie Lane, keyboardist Ian McLagen, and drummer Kenny Jones in The Faces. The band recorded hits like “Stay With Me,” albums like A Nod Is As Good As A Wink To A Blind Horse, and their shows provided heady competition for rivals like Led Zeppelin, The Who, and The Stones.

Soon however, Stewart’s career was sparked by solo smash singles like “Maggie May” and “I’m Losing You” and successful albums like Every Picture Tells A Story and Never A Dull Moment (featuring Wood’s very prominent input) before ego problems did in The Faces in ’75.

As fate would have it, Mick Taylor, the Stones’ talented lead guitarist, departed, leaving an opening for Wood. Names like Eric Clapton, Rory Gallagher, and even Jeff Beck were thrown about as Taylor replacements, and though like Taylor, all were more technically proficient guitarists, Wood, with his spiked hair, gaunt arms, and exuberant stage presence, was the perfect foil for the equally hard-living Keith Richards. Thirty-five years later, Woods has logged more time with the Stones than his two predecessors combined.

An accomplished painter as well as musician who has collaborated with such an array of legends ranging from B.B. King to David Bowie to Aretha Franklin, Wood has more than proved his meddle with the Stones. The band’s most versatile onstage musician, fans are accustomed to seeing Wood switching from a seven-pedaled Emmons steel guitar (for songs like “Far Away Eyes” and “The Worst,”) to a baby sitar – either the Danelectro original or the Jerry Jones reissue for rainy outdoor shows on “Paint It Black” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” For the slow acoustic numbers, Wood enjoys the slide effects he elicits from a hollowbody Weisenborn (“No Expectations”). His acoustics include a Gibson J-200 and a Zemaitis adorned with silver. Other favorites include a custom Zemaitis electric he uses for rockers like “Rough Justice,” “You Got Me Rockin’,” and the classic “Can’t You Hear Me Knockin’.” He also favors the unique “BBB” (black B-bender), a Ron Wood signature Fender Telecaster.

Wood’s most-used stage guitar is still his beloved ’55 Fender Stratocaster, while he’ll grab his prized original ’52 Telecaster for classics like “Honkey-Tonk Women.” And his readily identifiable slide sounds are partly the result of using slides fashioned by his guitar tech, Dave Rouze, using standard 3″ copper tubing.

While talk of a Stones tour in 2011 is being bandied about, Wood is focused on his new album, I Feel Like Playing (Eagle Records). His seventh solo effort, it’s his first in nine years. To get the raunchy no-frill rock-and-roll guitar sounds he is famous for, Wood used his trusty ’55 sunburst Strat, ’64 white Firebird reverse, red ’67 Strat, all cranked up through a ’50s Fender Tremolux, a ’56 Fender low-powered tweed Twin, a ’58 high-powered Twin, and a new Fender Vibro-King. To get an early Hank Marvin/Shadow’s sound when needed, Wood added a ’60 Watkins Dominator.

With an impressive cast of fellow rock-and-roll renegades including ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons, former Guns ’N Roses axeman Slash, Red Hot Chili Peppers’ bassist Flea, and Pearl Jam’s Eddie Vedder, the album is exactly what one would expect from Ron Wood.

Why did you now decide to come out with another solo album?
(Record producer) Steve Bing actually started the project. I happened to be in L.A., and he said, “Hey, Ronnie. I would love to hear you play. I’ve booked The House Of Blues, and I’ve got (drummer Jim) Keltner, and Ivan Neville.” I said, “Okay… cool.” I hadn’t thought about making any new tracks. So I got hold of Flea and brought in (longtime Rolling Stones backup vocalist) Bernard Fowler. We cut “Spoonful,” and it all just snowballed from there.

Did you have a stockpile of tunes ready for the album?
I had some phrases that had been knockin’ around my head, for awhile, like “Why’d you wanna go and do a thing like that for,” and (sings) “Well, I don’t think so.” So, there were songs waiting to come out from phases. One day, I heard Bernard say, “Sweetness, my weakness.” I said, “That’s not a greetin.’ That’s a song.” So he said, “You write it,” and I did. We’d write songs in the morning, and cut them in the afternoon. Everything on the album came together very easily.

Some time ago, you said, “You don’t make solo albums to have hits.” Do you still feel that way?
Well, I’ve changed my way of thinking, because I hope to have one or two hits of this album. When the record company told me “Lucky Man” became the most requested song on Amazon, I went, “Wow! Fantastic! I’ve had a little flash of fame of my own.”

How did Slash come to play on the album?
He was working in the next studio, and I’d bring him over, and say, “Come on, Slash. You know exactly what I want. Go ahead and play.” Then Billy Gibbons would walk in saying, “Hey, man. I’ve got a great song for you called ‘Thing About You,’ and I’d say, “Come on then. Let’s play it.” We’d work a little on the arrangements, then just do it. I love that spontaneity.

People buying the album might expect to hear you doing all of the solo work. But you recruited other guitarists, like Slash and Gibbons…
Well, I’m doing solos, but sometimes I’d let Slash take half, then I’d do half, and then we’d both perform the last part together. I did that with Billy, too. But for most of the songs, I left room for me to solo.

It’s nice to have a rapport with those kinds of guitar players, because they don’t mind playing a rhythm or just a simple thing in the background. However, if I’d also tell them, “Let loose,” they’d go, “It’s your album. You do the flashy stuff.” So, it’s not like they were trying to steal the limelight, or that I’d be giving up my rightful place.

It’s hard to explain; it’s a give-and-take thing going on among musicians. For instance, I might like a little phrase Slash did, and later decide to keep it on the track.

You can tell where Gibbons comes in with his trademark crunchy guitar on “Thing About You.”
That’s really me being a Gemini (laughs)! You see, I’m very chameleon-like. It’s me sounding like Billy Gibbons, and him sounding like me. We’re weaving together in the solos, so that quite honestly I don’t know where I start and leave off, where Billy takes over, and visa versa. It’s nice to know it’s not cut-and-dried, like he’s doing this bit and I’m doing that bit. Weaving is something I’ve been doing with Keith Richards since we started playing together. It’s an ancient musical form where we just “talk” to each other through our guitars.

The Stones have incorporated reggae for years, especially on some of your songs with them. “Sweetness My Weakness” is almost a tribute to Bob Marley.
It’s actually an homage to Gregory Isaacs, and I’m really pleased with the way it came out. I didn’t want to over-sing it. When you analyze that track, none of us is really playing a reggae beat. It just came out sounding like a reggae song.

When you were growing up in England, who were the first performers who inspired you, musically or visually, to think, “Hey, I’d like to do something like that with my life…”?
Oh, definitely the first was Fats Domino, with his record, “I’m Walkin’,” and alongside him, Jerry Lee Lewis (W oods performs on Lewis’ new album, Mean Old Man). The early Jerry Lee stuff was very important to the changeover in British musical tastes, blended with the influence of Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, and Chuck Berry, and even earlier, Big Bill Broonzy and Leadbelly. It all crossed over from the music of Louie Armstrong and Bix Beiderbecke. I got all of the traditional jazz influences from (brothers) Ted and Art, who were eight and 10 years older than me, and turned me on to R&B. They had bands who backed up some of these blues guys when they came to England.

And you actually backed Memphis Slim when you were very young…
Yeah, that was my first gig away from my group, The Thunderbirds. We later found out that (singer) Chris Farlowe had a group with the same name, so we had to knock off the “Thunder” part and became The Birds. This old, black crooner came up and asked (whispers) “Hey, boys. Would you back me up?” We were teenagers who didn’t know him from Adam. But he seemed like a gentleman, so we backed him for a bottle of whiskey. It was a real turn-on for me, though. Shortly after that, I got friendly with Bo Diddley at The 100 club.

I also used to go see Muddy Waters when he came to town. He always thought I was in the Stones. It was really funny when I saw him years later. I said, “Muddy, I’m finally in the band you always thought I was in.” He said, “I knew you’d do it.” (laughs)!

When you first saw The Stones perform at The Richmond Jazz and Blues Festival in ’64, did you seriously think that one day, someone in the group would drop out, and you would be asked to join as a full-time member?

Ron Wood

You know, I was just so captured by their performance, I thought, “Someday, I’m gonna be in that band.” I was the last one out of this tent, and I banged my leg really hard on this huge tent peg. It really hurt, but I didn’t think about the pain. I was just thinking, “Yeah, that’s my band.” I got to meet them, and funny enough, after Brian Jones died, when they were initiating Mick Taylor, I was going around the outskirts of (London’s) Hyde Park, and right in front of me, Mick (Jagger) and Charlie got out of this car and called out, “How are you doing?” I said, “I’m fine,” and they shouted back, “Well, we’ll see you.”And I said, “Yeah, sooner than you think.” I was just in the right place at the right time when (five years later) Mick Taylor told Jagger he was leaving the band. Mick looked at me, and said, “What am I gonna do? Will you join?” It was so funny. It was like fate was playing the cards.

Of course, that must take you all of one second to consider…
Yeah, but Mick also said, “To be fair to The Faces, I don’t want to split them up.” I said, “Nor, do I.” So Mick said, “Well, if I get really desperate, could I ring you up?” I said, “Of course.” So about a year later, when I was in L.A., Mick rang me up.

This must have been in ’75, but didn’t Mick actually call you right after Brian left, and you didn’t learn about the call until around five years later?
Yeah, that’s right. He rang me up through Ian Stewart, the piano player/roadie we sadly lost around 20 years ago. Ronnie Lane told him, “No, Ronnie’s quite happy here.” When I found out, later, I said to him, “Why didn’t you tell me about the call?” He said, “Because you’re happier here, my boy!”

What do you remember about the first session you played with Keith Richards… as a bassist… on P.P. Arnold’s 1966 recording, “Come Home, Baby?”
We were doing the session for Andrew (Loog) Oldham. I remember people like Keith Emerson on the organ, Nicky Hopkins on piano, and Keith on guitar. We also did some other things with Rod, like “Little Miss Understood,” and P.P. Arnold’s cover of Cat Stevens’ “The First Cut Is The Deepest.” (Ed. note: Stewart’s version of “Cut” came many years later.)

It was really a great way of mixing and matching different genres of music together. Different bandmates from far afield all coming together. You’d get these random phone calls, “Can you be there at this studio?” You never knew who was gonna be there, or who’d walk in.” It was like, “Wow, there’s John Lennon over there,” or someone like him. Those were really fantastic days.

So you were all close in those days.
Yeah, it was a great, thriving time. Everything would come to a head at the record company Christmas parties. You’d jump from one company to another, and party with people like Viv Prince and The Pretty Things, then go to The Who’s office and party with Townshend and Keith Moon. All the members of The Small Faces would be up at Immediate Records. The Stones and Beatles would all be down the road. It was all mad. All everyone was thinking about was, “Wow, let’s party!”

What do you think has made that generation of British musicians endure, still active and creative more than 45 years after hitting the scene? Certainly, none of them could have foreseen being this popular in 2010.
Well, we were all born with that imbedded thing, almost like being born with a guitar in your hands (laughs)! I was like that. That’s what we all did. You wouldn’t give up, even if in the back of your mind you thought you really couldn’t play. You would just get up there and front it out, which is something I still do to this day. I’ve got a lot of front in me. I just jump in the deep end and play.

Your formative years in England must have been very exciting.
Back then, you’d bump into Jimmy Page, who was a top session guy at the time. Jeff Beck was a schoolmate of his, and he told me that Jimmy was the one who was playing the solos on all those hit records. Me and Jeff would be on a train, and we’d see Jimmy on the platform. It really was a small world. We’d go past Ealing Station coming home from school, and I’d see Keith Moon playing football. We were all just knocking around. But deep down, we had a dedication to playing music and sticking in there, never giving up.

If in 1964 some caricaturist had drawn a picture of what he imagined Mick Jagger would look like at 67, it would probably be of an old man with a cane. But of course, that’s not the case.
It’s like 65 has become the new 40. It’s all truly amazing, the music and continual creativity, the ambition, always wanting to get better and taking on new things.

It’s always that way for me in the art world with my paintings, going through phases. I’m always learning. It’s the same with music; always striving to find new ideas.

How did you feel about the recent Faces’ reunion shows?
They were both really good, actually. We did the O2 Festival in Goodwood, and another gig in Denmark with Mick Hucknall singing just like Rod did in the ’70s. Mick sang well, and shut up a lot of people who said, “What? He’ll never sound like Rod.” Well, he did!

Is there any chance Rod will be involved in future Faces’ reunions?
I just got an e-mail from Rod, and he’s open to ideas. He said, “Hey, let’s see about going out and playing again.” So we’ll see. We’re planning shows in January with Mick.

The Stones are rumored to have a new album and tour planned for 2011. What’s the latest on that?
We won’t know until we’ve had our winter meetings, but we’re all looking forward to them with itchy feet.

You’ve had an incredible 35-year run with The Stones so far. Can we assume you’ve forgiven Ronnie Lane for possibly preventing you from joining six years earlier?
To be truthful, if I had, I’d probably have become a junkie straight away, and would probably have OD’d… or I’d be dead now.

This article originally appeared in VG January 2011 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

For more information and a complete list of 2012 BMA winners: www.blues.org/

Guitarist Harrison has released several impressive solo albums, but arranging Motian’s music for string quartet and two guitars is no doubt his most challenging undertaking – as its 10 years in the making would suggest.

Perhaps it’s his combination of written-out passages and space for improvisation (by guitars as well as strings) that keeps this from falling into the stiff trap of so many “jazz meets classical” undertakings. From the appropriately titled opener, “It should Have Happened A Long Time Ago,” there’s an organic tone and feel to the collaboration, with dynamics and tempos remaining elastic, rather than being carved in stone.

The angular, dissonant “Drum Music” sounds like a cross between Raymond Scott and Frank Zappa, while “Cathedral Song” displays Harrison’s crystalline tone. The 53-year-old harmonizes the opening of “Mode VI” with fellow guitarist Liberty Ellman.

The two non-Motian compositions, “Misterioso” and “Jade Visions,” are appropriate – the former by Motian’s one-time leader, Thelonious Monk, the latter by the third member of the Evans trio, bassist Scott LaFaro.

A great concept is one thing, but executing it is another. Harrison succeeds admirably on both counts.

This article originally appeared in VG‘s June ’11 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

Hall and “Butter” onstage with REO Speedwagon bandmates Dave Amato (center) and Kevin Cronin. Photo: Willie G. Moseley.

It would be an understatement to say that REO Speedwagon bassist Bruce Hall and his 1965 Fender Jazz Bass, dubbed “Butter,” have been through a lot.

Born and raised in Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, Hall, who has been with the band for more than 30 years, acquired this mainstay when he was 16. In an ironic twist, the aspiring teen bought the instrument from Greg Philbin, REO’s original bassist. In 1978, Hall replaced Philbin in the band.

“Greg bought her new, and had either sanded her down or had it done, which was kind of a fad back then,” Hall recalled, personifying his favorite instrument in feminine terms. “I don’t know what color she was originally, but he put a coat of varnish on her. It was a nice job.”

In addition to the finish, the pickguard had been removed. Otherwise, the bass was stock, and served as a fine example of Fender’s second-version Jazz, with its three-knob (two Volume, master Tone) layout. The bass also has a strap button on the back of the headstock, found on some ’60s Jazz models.

“I played her in the bars for years before I joined REO Speedwagon,” Hall noted. “One winter night, I happened to leave her in the van, and the finish cracked. I was upset when it happened, but as time went on, I thought it looked cooler. In fact, I later took her to the Fender Custom Shop – I take her down there once or twice a year – and they took pictures of her because they wanted to see if they could duplicate the look when they were relic’ing instruments.”

Bruce Hall’s 1965 Fender Jazz Bass, “Butter,” bears serial number L89613. Photo: Willie G. Moseley.

Hall first recorded with Butter during the sessions for REO’s You Can Tune a Piano But You Can’t Tuna Fish, but after that album, he was introduced to other vintage basses. “[Former REO guitarist] Gary Richrath knew some guy who would bring him old Les Pauls, and the same guy started bringing me sunburst Precision Basses from the ’50s,” he said. “I bought two of those, and used them on the Hi Infidelity album and tour.

“I’d started leaving Butter at home because I didn’t want anything to happen to her,” he noted. “But now, those ’50s P-Basses are at home, and Butter is back out with me.”

Over the decades, Butter has been through what Hall considers appropriate modifications for a utility instrument; a repro laminated tortoiseshell pickguard has been installed, and when the original bridge “rusted out,” it was replaced in 1982 with a Leo Quan Badass. What is arguably the most significant mod was the addition of EMG active pickups and circuitry, and Hall confesses to experiencing more than a bit of angst before having the work done.

“When (guitarist) Dave Amato joined the band, he turned me on to Spector basses with EMGs, and  I became accustomed to their sound,” he said. “You can still get a lot of the same sounds you get with passive pickups, but having actives is like having more colors to paint with. The classic Fender sound is distinct and good for certain things – but not everything.”

After the install, Hall was delighted with the result, and the control arrangement now consists of a master Volume, a pan pot, and a stacked Treble/Bass knob. The pan pot doesn’t matter all that much to Hall, as he uses only the pickup closer to the neck. He even muses about an even more radical mod…

“I’ve been thinking about having the guys at Fender move the bridge pickup right next to the other one,” he said. “That ought to sound interesting!”

Like any veteran musician, Hall understands that instruments are tools of the trade. The changes made to his ’65 Jazz have enabled him to enhance his music, and his career. Butter remains his favorite bass, and likely always will. “She and I grew up together,” Hall says with a smile.

This article originally appeared in VG December 2009 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

Photo: Max Crace.

Eric Johnson’s latest release, Up Close, is his most lively studio project to date. With a looser vibe and the luxurious tones we’ve come to expect from Johnson, it gets closer to that happy place between immaculate execution and spontaneity.

Johnson invited Steve Miller to sing and Jimmie Vaughan to play guitar on a cover of the Electric Flag song “Texas,” and the results are fiery, to say the least. Vocalist Malford Milligan, Jonny Lang, and slide master Sonny Landreth also lent soulful contributions.

Did you have a concept in mind before you started recording Up Close?
I was going about business as usual. Then, as I got into it, things started changing. I started trying to cut stuff a little more live, and decided to bring people in to sing and play, just to open up a little.

Do you think imposing more spontaneity added something?
I wish there was more. There’s definitely more than the last record, and I think realizing it toward the last part… I would like to keep going on that track – open up a little and get a little more of that going on.

Are you hard on yourself?
I think I am. I always hear things I don’t like. I have a habit of doing things over and over, trying to get it where I hear it in my head. But sometimes, when you get it to where you hear it in your head, it loses some of the spark. It’s a balance between capturing that spark and getting it to where you want it to be. It’s really tough for me to get comfortable in the studio. It sort of feels like you’re in a petrie dish.

It’s tough to capture that blend of lively playing with perfect execution, but the record sounds like you were able to.
Yeah. Going for a performance-type situation, even if I was over dubbing, then opening it up and getting other people get involved. I basically sang all the songs. On three that I sang, I thought, “Yeah, pretty cool.” One was always meant for Steve Miller (“Texas”), but there was a couple where I didn’t feel my voice was appropriate. On one, I got Malford Milligan to sing (“Brilliant Room”), and another one, Jonny Lang (“Austin”). It just worked better.

Your guitar playing is always stellar but I’m really enjoying your lyrics, particularly on “Brilliant Room.”
Thank you. I think the lyrics show progress – they’re more personal, rather than from the third person. That’s kind of why I called it Up Close. It’s kind of a generic, but says it simply. It’s trying to show a little more of myself.

What was your primary guitar?
I used my ’62 Strat – which I don’t have anymore – a lot. I used my ’57 Strat a bit, and my signature Strats. I also used some Gibsons, like I always do, but probably more than usual. I used some Les Pauls I don’t own any more (laughs).

So you got rid of a bunch of guitars before the record came out. Why?
I wanted to have the pieces I use and make music on, that really hit a mark that works for me, musically. If they don’t really hit that high-water mark, I want to simplify. I own one vintage Strat now, (laughs) – a ’57 – and I want to find a second vintage Strat. I just want one I used to have, because that worked for me and made the kind of music I want to make.

Rather than owning five or six old Strats, I figure, if you gotta couple that are killer, that’s all I’d ever need. I can only play one at a time! After many years of trying it all, I know what works and what doesn’t. Coming to that conclusion… I’d rather just simplify.

A guitar’s age isn’t everything…
And even when they’re vintage, I like to put in a different bridge pickup and big frets. I’m not a dedicated collector – I’ve gone through periods where I’ve probably have more old amps than I need, but my thing is I want to sail on the music. I want to go into the skies. I love the old Strats, but as much as I love them, I can’t use the bridge pickup for most of my music – it’s too weak.

I finally came to terms with the fact that I’d rather have one or two. I’ll put big frets on them, put a bridge pickup I like in them, and I can play the music I want to play. I can’t very well quarantine myself to something because it’s original. Then you’re kind of putting a governor on your musicality.

Are you still using the multi-amp Marshall/Fender configuration?
Yeah. I’ve been experimenting in the studio, and I’m putting together an alternate rig using different amplifiers that I’m really digging on. For the most part, it’s the same old thing – either the 50-watt Marshalls or the 100-watt Marshalls, then Twin Reverbs. I thought about bringing out a super-simple setup for the Experience Hendrix tour, but the songs I’m doing kind of require that I jump around to different sounds, so I ended up bringing my whole rig.

What’s in your Experience Hendrix tour setlist?
“House Burning Down,” “Drifting,” “Burning Of The Midnight Lamp,” and “Are You Experienced?” A couple were tunes I always wanted to do – “Drifting” and “Burning Of The Midnight Lamp” – so I learned them for this tour.

This article originally appeared in VG February 2011 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

The Whammy also includes 1/4-inch inputs and outputs, a MIDI input that allows control of the pedal from an external MIDI device, and a 9-volt DC power input. The Whammy employs high-quality 24-bit/96kHz analog-to-digital and digital-to analog converters for clean, smooth pitch-bending sound. An on/off switch engages and disengages the Whammy effect, and a “Classic/Chords” switch lets players select either mode. Each Whammy pedal comes with a rugged all-metal chassis, pedal, and footswitch.

Photo courtesy of Ampeg.

Donald “Duck” Dunn, the bassist who, alongside guitarist Steve Cropper, helped create the sound of Memphis soul at Stax Records as part of Booker T. and the MGs, died in his sleep May 13. He was 70.

One of the most respected session players in the history of popular music, Dunn’s bass is heard on a host of classics recorded in the studios of Stax Records, including Wilson Pickett’s “In the Midnight Hour,” Otis Redding’s “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay,” as well as two hit versions of “Soul Man” – the original by Sam and Dave from 1967, and the 1978 cover recorded by the Blues Brothers.

Dunn was born in Memphis in 1941. He began playing bass in high school, which led to his joining the Mar-Keys with Cropper. He later followed Cropper into Stax Records’ house band, Booker T. & The MGs (which stood for “Memphis group”), one of the first racially integrated soul bands. Along with sessions backing the numerous soul stars on the Stax roster, the band scored instrumental hits of their own, such as “Hip Hug-Her,” “Soul Limbo,” and “Hang ‘Em High.”

Later in his career, Dunn worked with Eric Clapton (with whom he performed at Live Aid in ’85), Tom Petty, Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Peter Frampton, Robert Palmer, Rod Stewart, and Levon Helm. He was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and received a lifetime achievement Grammy award for his work with Booker T. & The MG’s. Most recently, Dunn was semi-retired, playing shows and festivals with Booker T. & The MGs. When he passed away, he was playing with Cropper and vocalist Eddie Floyd in Japan. Dunn was interviewed in the the February ’06 issue of VG.