Styx

REO Speedwagon, Styx, and Ted Nugent will join forces this spring and summer for The Midwest Rock ’n Roll Express tour, set to begin May 1.

REO Speedwagon

“It’s gonna be a twang fest of screaming guitars and big, sing-along choruses that continue to be the soundtrack for the misbehavior of our collective fan base,” added Styx guitarist/vocalist Tommy Shaw. “ In other words, a real good time.”

Ted Nugent

Nugent couldn’t agree more. “The heart and soul of American R&B and rock and roll has always gushed forth from the heartland,” he said. “REO, Styx, and The Nuge have always celebrated the power of our special music and on [this tour], the energy, attitude, and spirit is more intense than ever.”  Learn more at styxworld.com, reospeedwagon.com, and  tednugent.com.

PRS’ DGT model, the DGT Standard, is an all-mahogany version of David Grissom’s signature model. It has Grissom’s signature neck shape, slightly larger frets and heavier strings, tremolo capability, and DGT pickups with individual volume controls.

Grissom made his debut as Joe Ely’s lead guitarist in the mid-Eighties. His on stage and studio resume include stints with Ringo Starr,  Buddy Guy, John Mayall,  John Mellancamp, Chris Isaak, the Dixie Chicks, Brooks & Dunn, and even a brief period as a member of the Allman Brothers Band.

Fore more, visit prsguitars.com

Born July 17, 1921, in Minot, North Dakota, Osborne enjoyed a career that spanned the decades from the late ’30s until her death in March, 1992. And she called Charlie Christian her mentor; perhaps no other guitarist was more directly influenced by his genius.

The tenth of 11 children, Osborne grew up in a musical environment. Both of her parents played guitar; her mom sang and, though her dad was a barber by trade, he was also a bandleader. At the age of four, Mary was strumming a ukulele around the house. A few years later, she joined her dad’s group on banjo, then became precociously adept at singing, tap dancing, as well as playing the violin, bass fiddle, and guitar. In a 1974 interview in Guitar Player she told writer Leonard Ferris, “When I picked up that first guitar, that was it. I knew that’s what I wanted to play the rest of my life.”

Today, her son, Ralph Scaffidi, Jr., remembers how, “By her mid teens, she was good enough to play jazz and sing in an all-girl trio on radio and in the clubs around Bismarck [North Dakota, about 100 miles from Minot]. And she was really captivated by the playing of Django Reinhardt, Eddie Lang, and Dick McDonough.”

At age 17, Osborne’s life and approach to playing changed profoundly. Musician friends encouraged her to drop by a local club called The Dome to hear the Al Trent Sextet, a territory band that included guitarist Charlie Christian. “It was the most startling thing I had ever heard,” she said to Ferris in GP. Christian playing a Django-influenced version of “Honeysuckle Rose” was something she’d never forget. “I heard what I took to be a tenor saxophone,” she remembered. “I asked where the guitarist was, then realized the saxophone sound was coming from a crude amplifier attached to a guitar. I was so inspired, all I wanted to do was imitate him.”

She later recalled that some of the figures Christian was playing that night evolved into the tunes he recorded with Benny Goodman – “Flyin’ Home,” “Gone With What Wind,” and “Seven Come Eleven.” In the May ’02 issue of Just Jazz Guitar, writer Molly Cort cited Osborne’s recollection. “I watched how he played double notes… if you never had a lesson, it was clear what he was doing.” Osborne watched Christian for a few nights before approaching him, asking, “Those were Django’s chord changes on ‘Honeysuckle Rose,’ weren’t they?” She said he smiled and said, “Anyone who knows those were Django’s chords has to be a guitar player.”

Mary Osborne in promotional photo from 1946.

That brief exchange was a plot point in Osborne’s life, as recalled by her son. “They struck up a very nice friendship and, after he listened to her play, they jammed together and he gave her pointers and musical ideas,” he said. Christian then hipped her to a store that sold the Gibson ES-150 like he played, and told her where she could get an amp. Though it would be another year before jazz pianist Mary Lou Williams would recommend him to producer John Hammond, Christian was making a name for himself in jazz’s “Kansas City School.” Osborne was nonetheless impressed to find the guitar in a window display with a sign proclaiming, “As played by Charlie Christian, featured in the Al Trent Sextet.” The ES-150 cost her $85, and the amp another $45.

The Gibson archives tell us that until the introduction of the ES-175 in 1949, all Gibson archtops were made with solid arched tops, and the ES-150, introduced in ’36, was no exception. That was probably because no one, including Gibson, was sure if the electric guitar would catch on. The ES-150 was a lower-mid-level model with dot position markers, single-ply binding, a flat back, and little adornment. It did, however, have a reasonably large 161/4″ body with a carved spruce top, and its single-coil pickup was attached to an unusually large magnet mounted beneath the center portion of the top and held by three screws. It could accommodate a bold, percussive attack and produced surprisingly good definition.

There’s no doubt that pickup helped define and shape Osborne’s sound and contributed to the consensus of her being the doyenne of female jazz guitarists. She soon joined the small coterie of late-’30s electric-guitar pioneers that, besides Christian, included Eddie Durham, who recorded with Count Basie’s Kansas City Six, Eldon Shamblin with Bob Wills, and George Barnes, who first went electric recording with Big Bill Broonzy in 1938.

Excited about her new sound, Osborne hit the road for many months with the Winifred McDonnell Trio, playing mostly dance tunes, jazz, and Andrews Sisters pop songs. Because Osborne was a minor, McDonnell, who remained a lifelong friend, became her legal guardian. The trio traveled around North Dakota and Minnesota appearing on radio shows and in clubs before landing a daily show on KDKA in Philadelphia.

After a year in Philly, the trio was hired to appear in the stage show of actor-turned-bandleader Buddy Rogers. In a 1991 interview with Karen Schoemer of the New York Times, Osborne said, “He liked us so much he hired us. He was a very good musician and… looked like a movie star. Of course I was impressed. I thought musicians were movie stars, anyway.” But after several weeks on tour, Rogers dissolved his band after an appearance in New York City, where Osborne found herself embarking on the next phase of her career.

The Big Apple, Take One

Now a seasoned performer, Osborne took advantage of her surroundings. Almost immediately, she began exploring the New York music scene and meeting other jazz musicians. Back on it own, The Winifred McDonnell Trio found a gig where they were staying – the Piccadilly hotel in the Theater District on 43rd Street, west of Broadway. The Piccadilly was among many hotels during that era that catered to musicians. It was there that singer Johnny Drake introduced Mary to trumpeter Ralph Scaffidi, her future husband. Scaffidi, who was with the Dick Stabile band, was taken with Mary’s looks and demeanor. But when she mentioned that she played electric guitar, he wasn’t at all eager to hear her play.

Osborne in a Gretsch ad from the March

“My dad automatically assumed she played Hawaiian steel in the style of Alvino Rey, or some hillbilly stuff,” said Ralph, Jr. “Finally, when picking her up for a date, he heard her playing through her hotel room door and was stunned – and of course, very interested.”

As fate would have it, in the following weeks, romance blossomed for all the girls, subsequently bringing the trio’s career to a coda. All three had met their future husbands. The breakup was amicable, but no doubt bittersweet.

After an introduction from Ralph, Dick Stabile eagerly hired Osborne, but she was disappointed in not being featured. So she left for a Florida tour with yet another all-girl band led by Jean Wald. But a few weeks in the Sunshine State proved too similar to the road grind she’d already endured, so Osborne returned to New York.

She found a gig, again because of Ralph, with the Bob Chester band. But Chester wanted Mary for just four dates over a two-week period. She was puzzled because the band already had a guitarist and female vocalist. Her being hired didn’t make sense. The final date of her ad hoc employment was for prom night at Columbia University. So the event could feature continuous music, the college hired two musical acts and billed it as a “battle of the bands” contest. She arrived at the gig to find they were on the bill with Benny Goodman and his Orchestra, featuring her old friend, Charlie Christian. “She just cringed,” said Ralph, Jr. “She’d finally figured out she’d gotten the gig only because Chester wanted an electric guitar player for that appearance.” Osborne was, “…embarrassed, but Charlie was tickled about it.” It was the last time they would ever see each other.

The early ’40s in New York was a productive time for Osborne. In addition to recording with Bob Chester and Terry Shand, she worked with a number of name bands. She also landed a gig on Saturday afternoons in the house band at Minton’s Playhouse, where great players would jam. It was at Minton’s she first played with Coleman Hawkins, Ben Webster, Dizzy Gillespie, and Art Tatum, all of whom would later hire her for gigs and recordings.

Finally realizing enough stability to marry, Scaffidi and Osborne tied the knot in late ’42. By this time, Scaffidi was working with jazz violinist Joe Venuti’s stage show, featuring singer Kay Starr and the Andrews Sisters. The show had previously featured guitarist Eddie Lang, who was a big drawing card for Venuti. Lang had died and Venuti, who knew the value of a flashy guitarist, had never found a suitable replacement. Scaffidi naturally suggested Osborne. A skeptical Venuti honored the request, but probably had an agenda; a legendary practical joker, speculation had it that Venuti was going to teach the young girl how “real” musicians play. But what happened was similar to the birth-of-fire audition Benny Goodman had put Charlie Christian through by trying to lose him with the tune “Rose Room.”

After a show at the Capitol Theater, Venuti had Mary come by for an audition. “Word got around that Joe was going to humiliate some gal who plays guitar,” said Ralph, Jr. “So a crowd of musicians gathered outside his dressing room. Venuti chose some obscure tune like ‘Wild Cat’ or ‘Chop Suey’ – a tune from the ’20s. When my mom asked for the key, Venuti said, ‘I’ll just start and you follow.’ So he kicked it off at a frantic tempo but she started following him through the changes. He got to where he’d pull a key change every four bars, but she’d follow right along. This went on for 10 or 15 minutes before Venuti said, ‘You’re coming with me on the road!’”

Now in his new stage show, Venuti would have Kay Starr sing, followed by the Andrews Sisters. Then he’d call out Osborne and the two of them would duet for 20 minutes or more.

Venuti had a tour of the West Coast scheduled, and implored Osborne to join him. He said, “We’ll make records and it’ll be great. If you come with me, I’ll give you Eddie Lang’s guitar.” Osborne, however, remained in New York because she wanted to be with Ralph, who was very much in demand there.

(LEFT TO RIGHT) Osborne’s W.G. Barker was made circa 1962 with a single DeArmond pickup with Tone and Volume controls hidden under the pickguard. Osborne’s 1952 Gibson L-5, with DeArmond pickup. Osborne’s Stromberg cutaway.

The Windy City

Soon, an even better opportunity presented itself. The couple was offered a gig with the Russ Morgan Orchestra, featuring keyboardist Joe Mooney’s quartet. Mooney, a jazz guy at heart, in turn featured Osborne singing and laying down very hip lines on the guitar. Morgan had the orchestra in residence at Chicago’s Edgewater Beach Hotel. And it was there he had Osborne introduce his song “You’re Nobody ‘Til Somebody Loves You,” which would become a major hit for Dean Martin 20 years later.

World War II was raging, and Scaffidi, at 28, was still eligible for the draft. So he decided to enlist and serve in the entertainment corps at Great Lakes Naval Base in Chicago. Those few months were a rather romantic time for the young couple, with Osborne at the Edgewater Beach and Scaffidi in the Navy Band. Russ Morgan, however, wanted to move on, but Osborne elected to stay in Chicago with Scaffidi. But after a year or so, Navy brass decided there was too much talent concentrated at Great Lakes and shipped out many of the players to other venues. Scaffidi was sent to Newfoundland, where he became a bandmaster.

Osborne then began a series of Chicago club dates, including several at the prestigious Chez Paree. She also recorded sides with jazz violinist Stuff Smith including, “Blues in Mary’s Flat, “Blues in Stuff’s Flat, “I Got Rhythm,” and “Sweet Lorraine.”

Osborne with Billie Holiday in 1958. Photo: Nancy Miller Elliott.

Big Noise in the Big Easy

During this time, Osborne was befriended by writer and promoter Leonard Feather. She met Feather in New York circa 1940… “probably at Minton’s. So he knew how good she was,” recalls Ralph, Jr.

Feather’s far-reaching influence got her an appearance at the Esquire magazine All-Star Concert in New Orleans on a national radio network hookup. The show featured broadcasts from New York, Los Angeles, and New Orleans – a big deal in those days. Osborne was billed as a jazz newcomer. She sang “Embraceable You” and played a killer version of “Rose Room.” That broadcast got her deserved recognition from a national audience, and she was then in the rarified air of Esquire All-Stars including Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Red Norvo, Billie Holiday, and Teddy Wilson.

Big Apple, Take Two

With the notoriety of that 1945 broadcast and the end of the war, Scaffidi and Osborne headed back to New York. “New York was the place to be… you got to play with every wonderful musician in the world,” Osborne once remarked. The couple focused on building a life for themselves and getting established enough to think about starting a family. Scaffidi began playing studio gigs and Osborne formed her first trio with pianist Sanford Gold and bassist Frenchy Couette. She also made “soundies” and took a gig for a year at Kelly’s Stables, a popular nightspot. By this time, Scaffidi was on staff at CBS, and eventually worked “The Ed Sullivan Show,” “Your Hit Parade,” and wherever else he was needed.

Osborne’s trio had signed with Signature Records and also cut sides for Decca. But after difficulties with management, booking agents, and personnel changes, the trio broke up. Osborne lamented at the time, “the better sides are still on the shelf.” Still, she was in constant demand for session work and recorded with many great artists, such as Mel Torme, Clark Terry, Tyree Glenn, Art Tatum, Dizzy Gillespie, Ben Webster, Mercer Ellington, Mary Lou Williams and Coleman Hawkins. And her hard-driving, aggressive, yet soulful style was a perfect fit for sides with early R&B artists Wynonie Harris and Big Joe Turner. Leonard Feather produced the Harris sides “Mr. Blues Jumped the Rabbit,” “Rugged Road,” “Come Back Baby,” and “Whiskey and Jelly Roll Blues,” in late 1946. And her recordings with Turner – “Roll ’em Pete” and “Ice Man Blues” – are coveted examples of early R&B.

Osborne achieved more national acclaim with an appearance on TV’s “Arthur Godfrey’s Talent Scouts” and got regular work with Godfrey’s stage shows at the Capitol Theater. Then, in ’52, she began a 10-year stretch on “The Jack Sterling Show,” a daily morning radio show on CBS.

“I remember she had a job on the Sterling show, where she had to play Al Cohn arrangements, but she was an excellent reader,” guitarist Bucky Pizzarelli told VG. “I used to listen to her in the morning on the way to work when she was at CBS. Johnny Smith was at ABC and I was at NBC. She recorded with Coleman Hawkins and Ben Webster and won a lot of jazz polls. And she’d always play clubs at night, as well. Every time she appeared, I’d go out to see her and she’d come to see me play in New Jersey. Believe me, she played like Charlie Christian. He was her main guy.”

“I hear Christian’s influence in so many great players of that era,” added Ralph, Jr. “But I think my mother had the strongest link to his style without being a copycat. She could play some of his licks if you asked her to, but she never did when soloing. Her solos were close to what Charlie did, but it was not intentional, it’s just how it was. And though her playing evolved over the years, you could always feel Charlie’s influence.”

In the late ’50s, Osborne was offered an advertising/endorsement deal with Gretsch.

(LEFT) Osborne onstage at the Concord Jazz Festival, July, 1973. (RIGHT) Osborne onstage with Arthur Godfrey in 1949, when Osborne was part of the “Godfrey’s Talent Scouts” revue.

“Gretsches weren’t her favorites at all – she usually played a Gibson L-5 or her Stromberg on gigs,” said Ralph, Jr. “In fact, her custom Stromberg is supposedly one of only seven cutaway models ever made.” She had an unwritten agreement to never be photographed with anything but a Gretsch even though she wasn’t necessarily playing one. Osborne was usually seen with a Country Club or, later, a White Falcon. This was before she opted for a Bill Barker custom guitar in ’64. Barker, from Chicago, was a Stromberg protege who built Osborne an instrument. After she started to use the Barker, she ended her ostensible exclusivity with Gretsch.

In addition to a full schedule, Osborne gave birth to three children between 1955 and ’59. In fact, A Girl and Her Guitar, her first non-78-rpm album, was recorded while she was expecting the third. The cover shows a very attractive Osborne posing with a Gretsch White Falcon.

When the Sterling show was finally cancelled, Osborne felt the need for a change. She had become bored with playing, and from 1963 to ’68 studied classical guitar with Albert Valdes Blaine. “She bought a Velazquez guitar but never used it professionally. She studied classical just for her personal enrichment,” said her son, Pete. Perhaps it was symptomatic because Osborne and Scaffidi had both become disenchanted with the music scene in the ’60s, and began looking for opportunities away from New York. Scaffidi knew the days were numbered for staff musicians.

(LEFT) The Osborne Sound Laboratories guitar has a maple body, rosewood fingerboard, and rosewood inlay running vertically across the body. It boasted fine touches including mother-of-pearl fretboard markers, Schaller tuning machines, two Hi-A humbucker pickups, and a Leo Quan Badass bridge/tailpiece combination. (RIGHT) The Osborne Sound Laboratories looked much like the production version, but had rosewood edges on its headstock, a wider fingerboard (with binding), and chrome Ibanez humbuckers.

Bakersfield

In September of 1967, Scaffidi got a call from Phil Brenner, a musician acquaintance who was working for the Mosrite Guitar Company. Brenner thought that Scaffidi’s personality and knowledge of music would make him a good sales rep. So, after a trip to Bakersfield to get acquainted with the Moseley brothers, Scaffidi took the job. Glen Campbell, Buck Owens, the Ventures, and a few other major artists were playing Mosrites and Scaffidi thought the opportunity might be what he was looking for. Plus, both Scaffidi and Osborne believed they could rejuvenate their playing careers on the West Coast, and they joined the Professional Musicians Local 47 union in Los Angeles, though the Moseleys preferred Scaffidi live closer to the factory. Consequently, the Scaffidi family reluctantly settled in Bakersfield.

“Mosrite had a lot of internal management problems and it became apparent the company wasn’t functioning as well as dad had been led to believe,” Ralph, Jr. said. At the 1968 summer NAMM show in Chicago, Scaffidi indeed saw trouble developing and stayed on only until early October. His assessment was astute. In ’69, Mosrite filed for bankruptcy.

Rosac Electronics

Scaffidi did, however, glean an idea from the Mosrite electronics division. Eddie Sanner, Mosrite’s electronics engineer, wanted to develop a better fuzz box, but the company wouldn’t go for it. So Scaffidi found investors Morris Rosenberg and Ben Sacco to fund a new company, Rosac Electronics. Scaffidi and Sanner developed the Nu-Fuzz, and it did well. But their best product was the Nu-Wah, a cast-aluminum pedal with sturdy steel gears. It was the Nu-Wah that created the famous guitar sound on Isaac Hayes’ recording, “Shaft.”

The company also made amplifiers and PA gear, but market competition was fierce, and Rosac simply couldn’t hang on; it closed in the mid ’70s. According to Ralph, Jr. his parents then founded the Osborne Guitar Company with the intent of building solidbody electric guitars and basses. “They hired guitar builders with many years in the industry,” he said. “And Mom was involved with the design of the neck and the fingerboard, as well as the overall balance and feel of the instruments.” Unfortunately, much like Mosrite, they had trouble cracking the market, in part due to Fender’s domination at the time.

The Mary Osborne Trio in August ’91, playing its final New York City appearance, at the Village Vanguard club, joined for a night by her sons, Peter Scaffidi (bass) and Ralph Scaffidi, Jr. (drums). For most of that week’s gig, Osborne was accompanied by Dennis Irwin (bass) and Charlie Persip (drums).

Undeterred, Scaffidi looked to use his years of experience selling musical instruments, as well as building and marketing amplifiers and PA systems. So the company became Osborne Sound Laboratories, and focused on electronics. Scaffidi purchased a huge lot of Phillips and Eminence speakers to use in their newly designed Osborne amps. Mary personally tested each.
“Their plan, though, was to eventually refocus on guitars,” said Ralph, Jr., and they did indeed, try.

“Dad hired Kerry Savie, who’d been with Rickenbacker, to design a solidbody guitar,” added Pete. “It looked similar to a Les Paul Junior and sounded great. And electronically, it still holds up. I have one.”
Ultimately, though, the venture wasn’t to be, and Osborne Sound ceased operations in 1980.

Osborn in a Gretsch promo photo from '59. Her White Falcon was a pre-production prototype.

Coda

All the while the couple lived in Bakersfield, Osborne was gigging locally, teaching, and creating a career for herself. She landed a position on the faculty of Cal State Bakersfield, developed a close relationship with the local symphony, taught guitar at a school for blind children, and became a very visible and integral part of the city’s music scene.

In 1977, she was asked by friend/jazz great Marian McPartland to a make a live album for McPartland’s Halcyon label. The performance, released as Now’s The Time, was also filmed for public television in Rochester, New York. Just Jazz Guitar writer Cort talked to McPartland, who called Osborne “…very gifted” and said, “It’s a shame we didn’t hear more from her.” In ’78, Osborne was invited to the first Women’s Jazz Festival in Kansas City. On the bill was her’s old friend, pianist Mary Lou Williams, and McPartland. In 1981, after Williams had passed away, Osborne, McPartland, Dizzy Gillespie, and Clark Terry played during a tribute to her at Carnegie Hall.

But another decade passed before Osborne joined Lionel Hampton onstage at the 1990 Playboy Jazz Festival, held at the Hollywood Bowl. And later that year, she played her last major concert at the Los Angeles Classic Jazz Festival. Her final public performance was at New York’s Village Vanguard in August of ’91. Afterward, Osborne was quoted in the New York Times saying, “I thought, ‘Gee, it would be great to get to New York.’ It was fun just thinking about it. Just in our little world of music, New York seems the same to me… There are a lot of jazz clubs where the musicians are still appearing, and you see the same names…”

Reviews of the Village Vanguard show were excellent, and on closing night she got to play a set with her sons, Pete and Ralph, Jr.

At the time, few knew Osborne was suffering from liver disease, a consequence of leukemia, which had been diagnosed years earlier.

“It was a type of cancer that progressed slowly, and she just maintained,” said Pete. After her death in March of the following year, a scholarship was established in her name at U.C. Bakersfield. And shortly after that, Mary Osborne: A Memorial was released on Stash Records.

Osborne’s legacy comprises more than her body of work. Her memory serves as a monument of artistic and personal integrity. Her tenacity and talent manifested into an unusually high degree of artistic development. And she exuded the dignity and courage of one who refused to abide sexism and racism in an era when such attitudes were all too common. She was a cultural and musical pioneer who will forever remain in the pantheon of our greatest jazz artists.

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.

So much for the furor, because ultimately it doesn’t matter anyway. Even if no name artist ever played through a sweet little mid-’60s Supro Model 24 like this one (even though he did), it’s still one of the hippest looking and coolest sounding 45-year-old tube combos on the planet. Right through the years of Fender’s seeming dominance of amp design in the U.S., Valco designed and manufactured a broad range of amps for re-branders such as Supro, Oahu, Gretsch, and Airline that totally disregarded the Fender standard. They all did their own thing, and did it very well. Components were largely of a slightly lesser standard, and cabinetry (which varied from brand to brand) was occasionally thinner and lighter-weight than that used by Fender and Gibson, but the circuit designs themselves are difficult to fault, and often took clever, original twists that today yield several truly stunning vintage-vibed voices that are quite different from the norm.

A look inside the chassis of the Model 24 reveals what, at first glance, looks like a rat’s nest of wiring strung out along a series of terminal strips. Look a little closer, though, and you’ll see fairly tidy workmanship, and a neat logic to the design. Valco managed to fit a simple yet extremely effective circuit into a confined space, and string together a series of stages out of the tube-design handbooks of the day that work together to pump out exemplary guitar tones.

1965 Supro Model 24. Photo: Michael Wright.
Preamp tubes: three GE 12AX7.
Output tubes: two GE 6973, cathode-bias, no negative feedback.
Rectifier: 5Y3
Controls: Volume and Tone on each of two channels, tremolo Speed and Intensity.
Speaker: Jensen Special Design C12Q.
Output: approximately 18 watts RMS.

One of the surprises in here is the extensive use of ceramic disk coupling caps where you’d normally see larger, more robust axial (tubular) coupling caps in amps wearing more prominent brand names. The relatively low voltages found in several stages of the amp, however, allow such caps to thrive, while also giving the amp’s tone a thick, chocolatey, slightly gritty character you don’t hear elsewhere. At lower volumes this adds some body to the stew, and cranked up to crunch gives the Supro’s voice a meaty bite.

Another of what today’s marketing men might call the “unique selling points” of this amp is its pair of 6973 output tubes. We addressed these briefly while featuring a Valco-made 1963 Gretsch 6156 Playboy combo (February ’09 issue), but they’re worth revisiting here. This tube’s nine-pin layout and tall, narrow bottle leads plenty of people to make the assumption it “sounds like an EL84,” but that’s a long way from accurate. Even on paper – physical appearances aside – the 6973 is a very different tube, with maximum plate voltage ratings of around 440 volts DC compared to the EL84’s 350 volts, a different pin-out, and different bias requirements. The robustness of this tube implies you can get a little more juice out of it if you try, and that’s certainly the case. These tubes were favored by jukebox manufacturers of the ’50s and ’60s for their firm, bold response, although few (if any) guitar amps tapped them for all they were worth. In our Supro, they put out about 18 watts from well under 350 volts at the plates, and sound round, chunky, and, if slightly dark – crisply and pleasantly so. And how’s this for a 6973 vs. EL84 A/B test?

Curious about this tube after digging that little Gretsch 6156 a while back, we decided to try something funky; having just completed a home-brewed amp designed along the lines of a modified/slightly hot-rodded AC15 – a project that was sounding stellar just as it stood with its pair of EL84s – we decided to take a leap of faith and rewire and re-bias the output stage for 6973s. The result? The amp was instantly louder, chunkier, and just bigger-sounding, with firmer lows and a meaty, if not overcooked, midrange. Different tubes, different sound.

The Supro Model 24 is likewise capable of pumping out a surprising amount of volume for its size; anyone with a recently acquired original example that seems wimpy or anemic in that department should look to the tubes, filter caps, and/or speaker, and expect the amp, in good condition, to have a bolder voice than the average tweed Deluxe, for example, and its thin 5/8″ pine cab makes it extremely lively and resonant along with it.

Where some smaller Valcos carrying similar circuitry have scaled-back tremolos, governed by a “speed” knob only, and an extremely deep, choppy effect as a result, the Model 24 has both speed and intensity, and can be made to sound superb at a wide range of settings, from gentle pulse to swampy throb. Each of two similar channels carries an independent tone knob (the usual simple treble-bleed circuit, but effective), along with inputs marked “Treble” and “Bass.” Counterintuitive though it might seem, the Bass input sounds better for most guitar applications, tapping the full voice of the amp, while the Treble option is a bit thin and anemic.

And lest we ignore one superficial but significant factor… man, what a looker! Our featured example, courtesy of Elderly Instruments’ repair tech Steve Olson, is resplendent in Calypso Blue vinyl (which matched the finish on many Supro Super Seven guitars and other models). It was also available in red and, at other times, the more familiar gray. The single Jensen C12Q sounds just right with this amp, or you can Brit it up some and add a little volume and low end in the process with something like a Celestion G12H-30 or an Austin Speaker Works KTS-70 (be sure to box up the original for safe-keeping). Come to think of it, we wish Jimmy Page hadn’t played this amp. Then there would probably be more of them around, for less money, for the rest of us to snatch up.

Dave Hunter is an American musician and journalist who has worked in both Britain and the U.S. He’s a former editor of The Guitar Magazine (UK).

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.

On this new disc, Koch is once again a tour de force of the six-string, playing tracks like “Leg Up Foot Out,” with a feel that can only be described as an odd mix of country and metal. It’s got a nasty solo that wonderfully mixes single-note work and chords and his touch is so clean you barely notice how much he rocks. On “Nova Scotia Cold,” Koch seamlessly mixes banjo rolls with artificial harmonics, and his vocals with his guitar playing. Funk and Hendrix also seem to sneak to the forefront of his songs. “Trouble” shows that off with imaginative soloing that is never clichéd.

Koch uses instrumentals to show off other skills. “Sleep Tight” is a lovely ballad with a percussive feel and classic tones, while “Picked On” is exactly what the title implies; Koch flies through changes, doubling some of his own lines and ending with wacky hammer-ons. “Here We Go Again” is a subtle soul ballad with lots of double-stops and a melodic, big-sound solo.

As always, Koch’s lyrics are clever and fun, even when addressing serious issues. As a vocalist, he’s a bit limited, but his singing seems to fit the songs perfectly. The CD clocks in at just under 35 minutes and contains no “filler” – just good songs and sharp playing.

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Nov. ’10 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Sometimes overlooked, though, is the heritage behind the company’s bass line, including its early B4 model uprights. That heritage makes its presence known – loud and proud – with the new Zenith bass.

A culmination of classic and modern concepts, the Zenith looks more like a vintage jazz box than a contemporary bass. Finished in Translucent Black or Antique Natural on the fretted models (the fretless is available only in natural), it employs exceptional finish work and detail for a budget import bass.

The body is acoustically-chambered mahogany with a laminated flame-maple top. The body and its f-holes are bound in faux tortoiseshell – a classy touch. And kudos to Epiphone for binding the f-holes – a detail often overlooked. The body is attached to a five-piece neck of hard rock maple and walnut. The 34″-scale D-shaped neck has a satin finish and attaches to the body with a deep-set five-bolt plate designed to give the instrument a richer tone with better-than-average sustain. The package is rounded out with a classic Epiphone logo and a rosewood fingerboard with dot inlays on the fretted version, and lines on the fingerboard of the fretless. The makings of a classic are reinforced by details like the upright-bass-inspired rosewood bridge, but with contemporary twists like electronics.

Taking ideas from custom builders, the electronics of the Zenith are versatile and conceptually sound. The neck pickup is an Epiphone NanoMag that attaches directly to the base of the fingerboard for a sleek look. The other pickup is Epiphone’s NanoFlex low-impedance type under the saddle. These are controlled by a master Volume and a blend, rounded out with a dual-concentric setup of individual Bass and Treble controls for each pickup. Taking it up even one more notch are mono and stereo outputs. How cool is that?

Quality construction is immediately apparent on the Zenith, and closer inspection reveals that not only are its concepts worthy, but execution lives up to its full potential. These basses have a unique blend of retro and modern, and fill a distinct void in the market; there just aren’t any budget-minded options that will give an upright-like sound without breaking the bank.

The sound of these basses can be summed up simply – it’s monstrous! The chambered body resonates well, with little or no feedback issues. Traditionally, one has had to either throw down serious coin to get a similar sound, or use an acoustic and simply learn to fight the feedback. But with the Zenith, electric players who want an upright vibe have another choice.

Beyond the sheer girth of the Zenith’s tone, perhaps most impressive is the fact this is no one-trick pony. The NanoMag and NanoFlex are quite different from each other, sonically. For instance, rolling the blend control to run just the neck gives an old-EB-0-type vibe that would be great for punk and rock players. In the same regard, the soloed bridge pickup would be cool for soloists, especially in jazz. The magic lies in blending the two and tweaking the EQ of each pickup to find a unique sound. And no matter where you set the controls, there is no unwanted noise – just gobs of usable tones.

The only potential hitch with the Zenith is its weight. Think “’70s P Bass” and you’ll know what to expect… Also, you may want to experiment with strings on the fretted model. It ships with stainless-steel strings, which have a lot of zing and may not be to the taste of most. The fretless ships with nylon tape-wound LaBellas, which would probably sound fine on the fretted version.

Speaking of, the fretless excels. It has that wonderful midrange growl, and the nylon strings are comfortable yet still have plenty of attack. You can get that upright attack and woof with ease, but still use low action. The lines help, as intonation with nylon strings can be tricky.
This is a very cool instrument, and one few likely saw coming from Epiphone, and definitely not at this price point.

Epiphone Zenith Bass
Price: $1,332 (fretted, retail), $1,415 (fretless, retail).
Contact: epiphone.com.

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

Jimi and Bob Hendrix after they had seen Marlon Brando in "The Wild One."

Experience Hendrix, L.L.C. has announced the sudden passing of Robert (“Bob”) F. Hendrix, the company’s Senior Vice President and Chief Operating Officer.

As first cousin to Jimi Hendrix, Bob Hendrix came to the support of Jimi’s father, James “Al” Hendrix and his daughter, Janie, in 1995 to help form Seattle-based Experience Hendrix, L.L.C. and Authentic Hendrix, LLC; the companies that manage the late guitarist’s music legacy.  Since that time, Bob has been actively involved in day-to-day business operations recently holding the positions as the company’s Senior Vice President and Chief Operating Officer.

Prior to joining the Hendrix family companies,. Hendrix was Vice President and General Merchandise Manager at Price Costco. He is survived by his wife, Sharon, two sons, a step-daughter, sister, brother, several grandchildren, and other relatives.

The Collection Series II DGT has a one-piece maple top with mahogany back, 22 fret 25” scale length pernambuco neck with Honduran rosewood fingerboard and mammoth ivory Collection Celtic inlays. Other features include Honduran rosewood headstock veneer with mammoth ivory signature and “Collection” inlay, mammoth-ivory purfling on the fingerboard, headstock veneer, and truss rod cover, DGT tuners with faux bone buttons, PRS vibrato, DGT pickups with scuffed gold covers and nickel screws, two Volume controls (one for each pickup) with push/pull Tone control and three-way toggle pickup switch, and a custom Orange Glow finish with micro-bursts.

The Collection Series II McManus/Simpson Angelus has a 15.5” Angelus cutaway body, proprietary hybrid X bracing, Sitka spruce top with paua heart/black purfling, curly maple binding, and an ebony, paua heart, green select abalone, an gold rosette. It has African blackwood back and sides with black/maple/black purfling, custom-carved pernambuco neck with African blackwood fingerboard and paua heart, green abalone, and gold Collection Celtic inlays, ebony headstock veneer with mammoth ivory signature and “Collection” inlay, paua-heart purfling on the fingerboard and veneer, ebony bridge and bridge pins with mammoth ivory inlays, bone nut and saddle, Robson tuning pegs with ivoroid buttons, and PRS acoustic system.

PRS’ DGT (David Grissom Trem) Standard is an all-mahogany version of Grissom’s signature model and maintains many of the features unique to the DGT, including Grissom’s signature neck shape, slightly larger frets and heavier strings, vibrato capability, and specially designed DGT pickups with individual Volume controls.

For more, visit prsguitars.com.

Narrated by Dwight Yoakam, the exhibit will explore the roots, heyday, and impact of the Bakersfield Sound, the loud, stripped-down and radio-ready music most closely identified with the careers of Country Music Hall of Fame members Buck Owens and Merle Haggard. Co-curated by the institution’s Curatorial Director, Mick Buck, Photo Collection Manager Tim Davis, and Museum Editor Michael Gray, the exhibit includes more than 100 artifacts and an overlay of audio-visual presentations.

Grand opening weekend will be highlighted by a panel discussion with Dallas Frazier, Don Maddox, Rose Lee Maphis, Buddy Mize, Jean Shepard, and Red Simpson. The panelists will participate in a concert, headlined by Simpson, backed by guitarist Deke Dickerson and other musicians from Tennessee and California. Other opening-weekend programs include a film screening and an instrument demonstration.

The exhibit will run through the end of 2013, and is accompanied by a companion book, The Bakersfield Sound: Buck Owens, Merle Haggard, and California Country, published by the Museum’s Country Music Foundation Press. Learn more at countrymusichalloffame.org.

Washington, D.C. PBS member station WETA-TV will broadcast “In Performance at the White House: Red, White and Blues” February 27 at 9 p.m. Eastern Time. The blues-themed special will honor the musical form that sprang from the Mississippi Delta and flourished in the Westside of Chicago, with roots in Africa and slavery.  Its performances will explore those roots and pay homage to important figures of the blues and the songs they made famous by tracing the influence of the blues on modern American music from soul to rock and roll.

Hosted by President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama, it will include performances by Jeff Beck, Gary Clark, Jr., Buddy Guy, Warren Haynes, Mick Jagger, B.B. King, Keb Mo, Susan Tedeschi with Derek Trucks, and others. Booker T. Jones will serve as band leader and music director. Check listings to determine if your local PBS station will broadcast the event.

The concert will be the 48th in the Emmy-nominated “In Performance at the White House” series, which began in 1978. The program will be broadcast at a later date via the American Forces Network to American service men and women and civilians at U.S. Department of Defense locations around the world.

A line cut of the concert will stream live tonight (February 21) at 7:20 p.m. Eastern at pbs.org/whitehouse.

The Gibson company was founded on the belief that carved-top guitars were superior to flat-top designs, and consequently, Gibson was a reluctant entrant in the rising flat-top market of the 1920s.

Add the fact Gibson, more than any other company, was still determined to make the world’s best mandolins, banjos, and archtop guitars, and it’s not surprising that the ’30s had almost passed before Gibson turned its full attention to flat-tops and designed a model that would rank with such legendary Gibsons as the Super 400 archtop, the F-5 mandolin and the Mastertone banjos.

The Super Jumbo, as the model was originally called, barely got off the ground before World War II reduced Gibson’s guitar production to a trickle of inexpensive models. When it reappeared after the war, it was essentially the J-200 we know today, but it was fundamentally different from the pre-war version – with maple back and sides replacing the original rosewood, making the pre-war version one of the rarest and most highly sought of all Gibson acoustic guitars.

Despite Gibson’s late start, the company’s flat-top designs came a long way in a relatively short time. Gibson had taken the easiest path to becoming a flat-top guitarmaker by simply putting a flat top on the body outline of the L-1, their lowest archtop model. It was a small-bodied guitar, only 131/2″ wide. The body shape was easily recognizable because, like all Gibson guitar models going back to Orville Gibson’s original creations, it had a circular lower-bout outline that did not flatten around the endpin. Gibson had actually tried a flat-top under its “Army-Navy” label at the end of World War I, but the L-1 of 1926 was the first regular-production model under the Gibson brand.

Like the archtops, the inaugural version of the L-1 flat-top had maple back and sides, despite the fact rosewood and mahogany were long-established as the preferred woods for flat-tops. If Gibson’s low opinion of flat-tops was not evident in the simple H-pattern top bracing of the L-1, it was clear in the company’s downward extension of the flat-top line to the L-0, originally a plainer version of the L-1 but quickly distinguished from the L-1 by an all-mahogany body.

Within two years of this lowly beginning, Gibson made an audacious play for the top of the flat-top market by creating its first artist-endorsement model for guitarist/crooner Nick Lucas. The deep-bodied Lucas model of 1928 still featured the small circular body of the L-1, but the wheels of flat-top development were now in motion. In 1929 the obscure model HG-24 (with round soundhole plus 4 f-holes and an inner baffle), which was designed for Hawaiian use but produced nevertheless with a 14-fret round neck, introduced the 16″ dreadnought body shape to the Gibson line. By 1931, body sizes on the smaller models had increased by more than an inch to 143/4″, and the shape of the lower bout became more traditional and less-circular. In response to Martin’s success with its dreadnoughts, which were named after the largest battleships and introduced in 1931, Gibson came with the Jumbo, a dreadnought model named after the largest elephant and introduced in ’34.

By the end of ’36, Gibson had introduced the rosewood Advanced Jumbo and mahogany J-35, two models that would secure the company’s reputation as a flat-top maker in the same league as Martin. But being in the same league was not enough for Gibson. The company had attempted to blow its archtop competition out of the water in 1935 with the bigger and fancier-than-ever Super 400, and by the end of ’37, Gibson was making the same move on the flat-top market.

The new model was just under 17″ wide – a full inch wider than Martin’s dreadnoughts and Gibson’s own Jumbos. To make it look even bigger, Gibson reverted to the circular lower bout of the original small-bodied flat-tops. The first of these was made for singing cowboy movie star Ray Whitley. The body size was the same as Gibson’s L-5 archtop, and the neck featured the L-5′s pearl block inlays (custom-engraved) along with the L-5′s flowerpot peghead inlay, so the first examples of this new guitar were labeled “L-5 Spec.”

This was a truly special model. The back and sides were rosewood, which promised a booming tone. The bridge resembled a handlebar moustache with open ends. Early examples had six individual saddle poles that screwed up or down for string-height adjustment. The pickguard sported a colorful, engraved floral design. Standard fingerboard inlay was a new “crest” (a.k.a. pineapple) pattern, which was repeated in a pearl ornament on the peghead – although some, such as this month’s featured guitar, retained the L-5′s flowerpot.

Gibson quickly gave the new model its own name. Although it was smaller than the 18″ Super 400, and it was not strictly a larger version of the Jumbo dreadnought, Gibson called it the Super Jumbo and, following the example of the $400 Super 400, added the new model’s price of $200 to the name. The Super Jumbo 200 was at first offered only by custom order, and some of Whitley’s fellow singing cowboys Westernized theirs with rope-pattern purfling and other custom features.

This SJ-200, from 1940, exemplifies a new model in transition. The bridge has the standard one-piece saddle rather than the six individual saddle poles. The fingerboard inlay is the crest pattern, but the peghead still has the flowerpot. Tonally, it is everything one would expect from a large-body rosewood guitar, which is to say spectacular.

The wartime break did nothing to dampen the appeal of the SJ-200 to cowboy/country artists, even though Gibson switched to maple back and sides. The reason for the change is not recorded. While it’s arguable that the sound of rosewood might be too boomy for a guitar as big as SJ-200, Gibson’s decision to abandon rosewood bodies went across the entire line. With maple back and sides, the postwar J-200 (the S in the model name has gone in and out of use) still packed plenty of power, and it produced a more balanced and – very important in the era before good microphones and amplification – more cutting sound than the rosewood version.

Eddy Arnold, one of the biggest country stars of the 1950s, kept the SJ-200 in the public eye; his personal guitar had his name inlaid on the fingerboard. Ike Everly played an SJ-200, and when his sons Don and Phil had their first hits, they custom-ordered a matching pair. The model’s appeal widened in the 1960s to include such icons as Elvis Presley, who owned a number of J-200s, and Bob Dylan, who featured one on the cover of his Nashville Skyline album. In the 1970s, a custom-painted J-200 became a signature image for country star Emmylou Harris, and it remains a badge of identification for country artists.

Gibson today calls the J-200 “The King of the Flat-tops,” and the king has produced quite a lineage – with an entire model family plus dozens of special issues. Despite the continuing popularity of the standard maple model, rosewood has gained a respectable following. Of the 40 limited runs and variations of the J-200 offered by Gibson in the last few decades, a dozen of them (30 percent) have featured the model’s original spec of rosewood back and sides.

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

1964 Gibson J200 Vintage Acoustic Guitar

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.

Fender ’57 Twin Amp/’57 Deluxe

Fender “tweed” guitar amplifiers – the Twin, Deluxe, Bassman, Champ, etc., from the 1950s – are the most sought after amps in the annals of guitardom.

Whether it is Leo’s legendary circuit design, their tweed covering, top-mounted controls, or just killer tone, the “tweed” amp is a true industry standard that has been copied, reissued, and modified by major manufactures (i.e. Fender, Peavey, Carvin.) and boutique builders alike. And today, the values of vintage Fender tweed amps simply put them out of the reach of many players.

Fender’s new reissue ’57 Twin Amp and ’57 Deluxe are built just like they were when Leo was at the helm – with hand-wired/point-to-point circuits on eyelet boards, finger-jointed pine cabinets, lacquered tweed covering, and Alnico-magnet speakers. The ’57 Deluxe has two channels (one Mic, one Instrument) each with two ¹/4” jacks and individual Volume controls, as well as a master Tone control and power/standby switches. The Deluxe’s late-’50s 5E3 circuit uses a matched pair of Groove Tube 6V6 power tubes producing 12 watts, a 5Y3 rectifier tube, two high-gain 12AX7 preamp tubes, and a original-spec Jensen P-12Q 12” Alnico speaker. The ’57 Twin also has two channels, one bright and one normal each with two ¹/4” jacks and individual Volume controls, as well as passive master Bass and Treble tone controls, a Presence control, and power/standby switches. Valve and speaker layout in the Twin includes a pair of 5U4 rectifier tubes, a matched pair of Groove Tubes 6L6GEs producing 40 watts, four 12AX7 preamp tubes, and two Ted Weber-designed Fender 12” Alnico speakers.

Fender ’57 Twin Amp

With a Fender Custom Shop Robert Cray Stratocaster and a humbucker-loaded Guild Bluesbird, the ’57 Deluxe offers up a bright, full tone with a very generous serving of musical overtones. The simple, straightforward single Volume and Tone layout allow both guitars’ personalities to shine, with chiming bell tone from the Strat and a lush, fat, articulate humbucker sound from the Bluesbird. This is one of those amps where a reverb circuit isn’t really missed; the thick, saturated sound of the amp needs no help, as its lively, midrange response and clear top-end are very well-balanced. The amp started to break up nicely about halfway on the Volume control, and rolled into a smooth, crunchy overdrive as it heads to full volume. The amp responds well to pick attack and changes in the guitar’s volume controls, making it easy to clean up the sound right at the guitar.

The Deluxe’s combination of light weight (it goes about 25 pounds) and big sound make it an ideal choice for studio work or small-to-medium gigs.

Fender ’57 Deluxe

Plugged into the Bright channel of the Twin, the Cray produced a shimmering classic Fender-6L6 clean tone with thick, round bottom and crisp highs. It took very little tweaking to find the sweet spots using the amp’s Bass, Treble and Presence knobs. The well-voiced passive tone controls, along with Presence and the Normal/Bright inputs, make it easy to dial in great, natural sounds, whether you play single-coils or humbuckers.

The ’57 Twin is a real powerhouse, with a loud, full clean sound and a thick, harmonically rich overdrive sound, especially with a high-quality overdrive pedal in front of it.

Fender ’57 Twin Amp/’57 Deluxe

Price: Deluxe $2,569.99 (retail) Twin $2,999.99 (retail)

Contact: Fender Musical Instruments Corporation, 8860 E. Chaparral Road, Suite 100, Scottdale, AZ 85250; phone (480) 596-9690; www.fender.com.

Their music is obviously Beatles- (“JonBenet,” “Wear This Dress”) and Byrds- (“Please Stop Stealing From Grandma”) influenced, and unlike most funny music, it’s got enough going for it to make it listenable past the point when the jokes begin to wear. They may be best compared to Barenaked Ladies, but outrageous and obscene as they may be, the Clutters never come off as smug. Whether they’re in full out comic mode like in “Please Stop Stealing From Grandma” or when they tone down the funny in “Life The Movie” their songs are just flat out good. And how can you not like a band that writes a love song to the Three Stooges (“Moe Howard”)?

At the core of the Clutters’ sound is the vibrant ring of Jim Earl’s Rickenbacker 12-string. It’s one of the elements that lift the Clutters’ music above similar fare. Every track on this album would sound just as good if the band had played it straight. Still, be careful who’s in the room when you play it.  

This article originally appeared in VG‘s Nov. ’10 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.