Author: Wolf Marshall

Throughout his career, Gary Moore was haunted by a prevailing assumption (in rock circles) that he was simply too good to gain mass popularity. An accomplished, soulful vocalist and genuine guitarist’s guitarist, his versatility and technical mastery enabled him to move effortlessly from blues, rock, and power pop to metal, techno, hard rock, fusion, and Celtic, all while maintaining an uncompromising musical personality.

Largely ignored by critics and woefully unknown to the average listener, Moore changed his trajectory after two decades in hard rock and reemerged as the consummate blues-rock champion on his eighth solo studio album, 1990’s Still Got the Blues.

The timing was ideal, as his style resonated with the public after a decade that saw the rise of Stevie Ray Vaughan and Jeff Healey, the return of Robben Ford, and a renewed appetite for guitar-centric blues.

Still Got the Blues is a defining document. Moore and co-producer/engineer Ian Taylor gathered a who’s-who of British rock luminaries and session players: keyboardists Don Airey (Ozzy Osbourne, Deep Purple), Nicky Hopkins (Jeff Beck, Stones), Mick Weaver (Traffic, David Gilmour), bassists Bob Daisley (Ozzy, Black Sabbath), Andy Pyle (Blodwyn Pig, Savoy Brown, Wishbone Ash), and drummers Brian Downey (Thin Lizzy) and Graham Walker. Horns adorned numerous tracks with trumpeters Stuart Brooks, Raul D’Oliveira, and Martin Drover, as well as saxophonists Frank Mead, Nick Payn, and Nick Pentelow. A string section led by Gavyn Wright complemented several arrangements. On guitar, Moore was joined by Albert King, Albert Collins, and George Harrison.

Tactically, he prized spontaneity, freedom, and humanity during the sessions. Despite the impression of a carefully crafted work, the album was largely recorded live with no overdubbing and “mistakes left in” (see if you can find ’em).

From Moore’s second solo in “Oh Pretty Woman,” this lick illustrates his command and the way he modernized blues idioms. His minor-pentatonic and traditional blues scales and string bending are at the forefront, particularly potent in the major-third bend into the ninth tone in measure 8. Also noteworthy is the virtuosic double-timing in 3-4, 6, and 8-9. These flourishes are endemic to the shredder side of his persona and allude to his playing in hard rock and metal, which are highly effective into a blues setting.

Recording took six weeks. Favoring the classic British blues-rock sound, Moore eschewed rackmount effects and superstrats and chose the reliable and definitive Les Paul-into-Marshall combination. He used a newly acquired ’59 Standard (dubbed “Stripe,” it bore serial number 9 2227 and was thought to be Ronnie Montrose’s long-lost guitar) that soon became his main guitar, along with Peter Green’s ’59 Standard, “Greeny,” which Moore had owned since 1970. Both had original PAF pickups. Strat timbre is heard on “Texas Strut,” likely the same ’61 Fiesta Red model he played at Montreux in ’90. He plugged into an early reissue Marshall JTM45 head with 5881 tubes feeding a 1960B 4×12 stack containing Electro-Voice speakers. Additional saturation and sustain came via a Marshall Guv’nor overdrive pedal simulating JCM800 gain. Onstage, he often relied on Soldano SLO-100 heads (with Guv’nor or Ibanez Tube Screamer TS10 on the Clean+Crunch channel). He preferred Dean Markley 2504B (.010-.052) string sets and extra-heavy (1.14mm 351 shape) celluloid picks.

The program featured five Moore originals presenting facets of his eclectic blues vision, six standards, and a surprise contribution from Harrison. The results were inescapable. Released March 12, Still Got the Blues reached #83 on Billboard the following February and garnered Gold by November ’95. It remains Moore’s most successful album, having reset his journey as a reinvented blues-rock hero in the age of grunge, alternative, and nu-metal.

The opening track, “Moving On,” is an artistic metaphor marking his departure from ’80s pop-metal and commercial hard rock. A straightforward “road” travelogue cruising atop a groove-driven/riff-based arrangement backed by Weaver, Pyle, Walker, it’s laden with Open A slide licks (which Moore played standard-tuned in live performances) reminiscent of Joe Walsh, Billy Gibbons, and Duane Allman. These attributes convey a simpler country-inflected blues-rock feeling, recall his slide playing with Thin Lizzy, and set the stage for the album’s proceedings.

“Oh Pretty Woman” is a towering blues classic elevated by the participation of the legendary Albert King. Ostensibly recalling Mayall’s Bluesbreakers ’67 version (featuring Mick Taylor) with its four-piece horn section and Airey’s B3, it’s heavier and more aggressive, pitting Moore’s saturated tone against King’s cleaner, brighter twang. Moore feels his way through two ferocious white-knuckle solos offset by King’s laidback chorus, then ends the tune with a virtuosic cadenza reminiscent of his fusion episodes in Colosseum II. The album’s first single, it was released March 5.

“Walking By Myself” updates Jimmy Rogers’ early-’50s Chicago blues. Weaver on piano and Frank Mead on harmonica sweeten the flavor, alluding to Otis Spann and Little Walter while Moore adds rock swagger and distortion to the mid-tempo shuffle. Notable are ’80s tapping and quick technical flurries in his solo alongside a paraphrase of “Dust My Broom” mixing modern power rock with traditionally laid-back blues. It was released as the third single on August 6.

“Still Got the Blues” demonstrates the range of Moore’s style. Assuming a very melodic character, he’s explicit in the vocalesque phrasing and thoughtful note selection, highlighting sophisticated harmonic sounds inherent in the cycling chord changes. Note the emphasis of sweet major-seventh tones – B and E over C major and F major in measures 4-5 and 12-13 from hexatonic sources and inclusion of G# and F over E7 in 7. These phrases convey a jazz-informed, sax-like sensibility while his pentatonic blues melody (as in the specific minor pentatonic lines in 14 over Bm7b5) and idiomatic string bends are solidly steeped in blues-guitar tradition.

“Still Got the Blues,” a masterpiece of sophistication and soul, embodied Moore’s aspirations and tangents reexamined through the blues prism. The culmination of his nuanced melodic stye heard earlier in “Parisienne Walkways” and other pieces, the title track proved he could imbue any harmonic pattern (here the same well-used minor cycle-of-fifths progression heard in “Autumn Leaves” or “I Will Survive”) with his emotional blues feeling and singing sustaining lines, much in the way Santana did in “Europa.” The arrangement was complemented by Wright’s lush string orchestration, Hopkins’ piano, and Airey’s keyboards. Gary’s harmonically astute rock sensibilities were glimpsed in “Still in Love With You,” “Empty Rooms,” and “The Loner,” but reached a zenith in “Still Got the Blues” – reconciling his jazz acumen with rock attitude while reaffirming claim to an uncharted sector of the blues-rock universe. The album’s second single, it was released April 30, and was Moore’s only single to make the U.S. charts (#97).

“Texas Strut” brings allusions to ZZ Top-fueled boogie including “how-how” field-holler quotes and a reworked turnaround straight out of “La Grange,” along with SRV-inspired singing and overdriven-Strat sound. The mood is raw, loose, and serves as perfect contrast to the previous track’s complexity.

“Too Tired,” by Johnny “Guitar” Watson, is one of the genre’s lesser-known (but indispensable) pieces, here given a powerful treatment with punchy horn-section accents reminiscent of Watson’s ’55 recording, Airey’s piano, and musical sparring with Albert Collins, who sat in at the London studio while performing in town. The friendly-fire guitar dialog was achieved in two live takes and was the album’s final single, released in November of ’90.

“King of the Blues” was Moore’s tribute to Albert King. To strengthen the requisite Stax connection, Moore adds a small horn section and Airey’s Booker T-inspired B3 to the funk-blues groove; he begins with signature Steve Cropper double stops and progresses to King-inspired lead fills throughout verses. Also in character are a quoted piece of the “Born Under a Bad Sign” riff and aggressive soloing replete with stylistically correct wide bends. The ode is enlarged with lyric references to King’s famous songs and titles. Hardly derivative or unimaginative, his approach suggests a modernization and reverence of the original blues formula, and its constituent parts, in an evolved form.

“As the Years Go Passing By,” Albert King’s moody minor-blues ballad from ’67, is given an atmospheric treatment with light tenor/baritone-sax backing, Hopkins’ tinkling piano solo and Airey’s sustained B3 pads over the melancholy dirge-like pulse and quiet, introspective interpretation. Rock cognoscenti know this piece inspired Clapton’s “Layla,” but Moore breathes new life into it by returning King’s soulful cachet. His solo delivers taut, space-conscious phrases colored with degrees of overdrive, dynamic shadings and attack, rhythmic placement, touch sensitivity, subtle bends, and ghosted notes offering gentle nuance in contrast to his signature aggressive rock approach.

An inspired performance, “As The Years Go Passing By” summarizes Moore’s approach to slow minor blues. Understated, it’s one of the finest and most emotional solos of the album. Like King’s version, it’s in C minor and largely exploits sparser pentatonic blues melody decorated with soulful string bends. He begins with a quote of the tune’s famous opening lick (“Layla”), indulges in slinky double-timing in measures 6-8 that alludes to Peter Green’s mercurial phrasing, and pursues an ultra-sensitive approach to dynamics, often varying touch and volume dramatically within a single measure.

“Midnight Blues” is smoldering slower blues/rock in the minor mode, distinguished by a haunting main ensemble riff, colored with strings and Weaver’s electric piano. Gary cultivates a mildly overdriven tone and understated soloing to present another dimension of his improviser persona, echoing a storyline of loneliness and the blues’ dark side.

Straddling the line dividing blues, pop, gospel, and jazz, he chooses distinctive colors from the pentatonic-hexatonic palette of blues melody, tastefully incorporating the hexatonic’s evocative jazzy ninth extended tones as melody notes over Cm7 and Fm7, in strong contrast to the album’s heavier mood.

“That Kind of Woman,” originally written for Clapton, was given to Moore by Harrison. Though they were neighbors and friends, it was their first time collaborating in the studio. Recorded in Harrison’s 24-track home studio – initially as a duo with only a Linn drum-machine guide track and dubbed guitars. Procedurally, it is the album’s outlier – the only piece to build layered lead and backing vocals, rhythm, harmony guitars, and slide parts. The master track ultimately flaunted a four-piece horn section that colored and toughened the arrangement, lending an R&B feel to the Stones-influenced riff rocker. Accordingly, Stones alumnus Hopkins overdubbed supportive piano touches.

“All Your Love” brings the album full-circle to a life-changing moment in Gary’s youth. Modern blues-rock began with the explosive opener by John Mayall with Eric Clapton that inspired generations of that included Jimi Hendrix, Tony Iommi, Brian May, Eddie Van Halen, et al. The experience was similarly stunning for Gary in ’66, and with this he openly paid tribute. Sporting a similar Beano-approved quartet with Weaver’s B3, Moore reignites Otis Rush’s classic with an even heavier, more-saturated Les Paul/Marshall tone, heralding the continuing dominance of hard blues-rock.

“Stop Messin’ Around” closes the opus with a reverential nod to Peter Green, the pivotal guitarist of Mayall’s second Blues Breakers lineup. This piece comes from the ’68 single, announcing the premier of Fleetwood Mac, Green’s blues band formed after leaving Bluesbreakers. The quartet-with-piano arrangement is augmented by Mead’s sax work and the cruising 12-bar shuffle provides a perfect backdrop for Moore’s allusions to Green’s singable call-and-response blues phrasing. Moreover, the tone captures Green’s “out of phase” guitar sound and likely emanated from Greeny.

Wolf Marshall is the founder and original Editor-In-Chief of GuitarOne magazine. A respected author and columnist, he has been influential in contemporary music education since the early 1980s. His latest book is Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language. Others include 101 Must-Know Rock Licks, B.B. King: the Definitive Collection, and Best of Jazz Guitar. A list credits can be found at wolfmarshall.com.

This article originally appeared in VG’s December 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

In 1984, Kerrang magazine coined the buzzword “thrash,” signaling the arrival of an unprecedented heaviness in rock music – not only in volume and aggression, but precision, velocity, complexity, and social messaging.

Alongside fellow seminal thrashers Megadeth, Anthrax, and Slayer, Metallica represented the zenith of the form’s evolution, personified by larger-than-life sonics and challenging commentary beyond the machinations of ’70s metal bands from which they sprang.

Representing the vanguard of this movement inspired by predecessors Iron Maiden, Motörhead, Tygers of Pan Tang, Saxon, Diamond Head, and the “New Wave Of British Heavy Metal,” Metallica made its dramatic debut with Kill ‘Em All and established their hegemony by year’s end with Ride the Lightning and attained preeminence with Master of Puppets.

Metallica was formed in ’81, when guitarist/vocalist James Hetfield and Danish drummer Lars Ulrich met through an ad in the The Recycler and began collaborating on “power metal,” a hybrid offspring of NWOBH and punk rock. They recorded “Power Metal,” a demo for Metal Blade Records, were sporadically augmented by Dave Mustaine (founder of Megadeth), and in ’82 released “Hit the Lights” with lead guitarist Lloyd Grant and Hetfield on bass and rhythm guitar. They recruited bassist Ron McGovney to play their first gig on March 14, 1982; by their second gig, they were opening for Saxon. Cliff Burton, who’d impressed Ulrich and Hetfield with his virtuosic wah-colored bass solo at L.A.’s Whiskey a Go Go at a concert by his band, Trauma, joined in late ’82 on the condition they move to El Cerrito in his native San Francisco Bay Area. The relocated lineup debuted at The Stone nightclub in March ’83. In April, guitarist Kirk Hammett replaced Mustaine (who suffered from substance abuse and was prone to violence); he played on the debut album recorded in May.

Released in July on the indie Megaforce label, Kill ’Em All epitomized thrash’s dynamic approach, distinguished by fast tempos and musical precision emerging from the underground, and paved the way for its more-ambitious, sophisticated successor, Ride the Lightning, recorded at Sweet Silence Studios in Copenhagen with producer Flemming Rasmussen (of Rainbow’s Difficult to Cure fame). The latter, released in July ’84, received overwhelmingly positive critical attention, led to an eight-album deal with Elektra, and catapulted Metallica into the mainstream bolstered by an auspicious performance at Monsters of Rock. The stage was set for their masterpiece.

Every Metallica piece offers a wealth of guitar riffs; the nuclei of their music organisms. “Master of Puppets” is a mini symphony, with numerous sections defined by explicit riffs. Two exemplary riffs of differing characters are presented here; exhibiting two distinct sides of their musical persona. Both contain identifiers that pervade modern metal. Note mixed meters in each – 4/4 and 5/8 in the first [A], 2/4 and 4/4 in the second [B]. The first (0:52) is the driving main riff that dominates the verses. Played at a 220-plus bpm, it highlights thick, distorted guitar sounds and combines a pedaled low E in steady eighths with slurred power chords. Note the characteristic insertion a the tritone Bb5 in the second bar. The second (3:33) occurs over a contrasting mid-tempo rock feel and exploits clean-toned arpeggiations for a pastoral, almost bucolic effect. Note the modal progression Em-D-C-Am-B7 in first-position chords with ringing open strings contributing to the folksy mood.

Master of Puppets, recorded from September through December of ’85 at Sweet Silence, was also produced by Rasmussen, though Ulrich originally sought Geddy Lee’s supervision. Its music eclipsed thrash/speed metal categorization and embodied Metallica’s perfectionism and disciplined work ethic. Avoiding the era’s slick production and overreliance on keyboard synthesizers, they pursued a more-organic production laden with extensive guitar orchestration. Motivated to surpass Ride the Lightning, primary songwriters Hetfield and Ulrich composed and crafted material in an El Cerrito garage, shaping riffs and ideas to be presented to the band, then arranged and graced with Hetfield’s lyrics. To prepare, Ulrich and Hammett studied with instrumental teachers to sharpen their skills – Hammett with Joe Satriani. Almost every piece was preserved on demos, leaving room for only minimal changes before entering the studio; only “Orion” and “The Thing That Should Not Be” had to be completed during recording sessions.

Metallica’s growing complexity was evident throughout. Each song was analogous to a mini symphony, with interludes and instrumental bridges that required considerably more studio time than previous efforts. Their guitar sounds became the de facto metal tone of the era. Hammett played his ’74 Flying V, ’85 Jackson Rhoads, and Fernandes superstrat with EMG pickups. Hetfield favored a Jackson V and Gibson Explorer. Both played Mesa Boogie Mk IIC+ heads (sometimes as preamps) and Marshall cabinets with 65-watt speakers. The Mk IIC+ became the signature Metallica sound and is currently the most-coveted vintage Boogie.

Final mixes were done in January ’86 by producer Michael Wagener (Accept, Dokken, Ozzy Osbourne). Like other works that changed history, such as Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue, John Coltrane’s Giant Steps, and John Mayall’s Blues Breakers, the band considered it an exemplary but routine recording at the time: “We were just playing music and drinking beers,” said Ulrich. Like its forerunners, it boasted assured mastery and transcended its genre and historic period.

“Battery,” the opener, became a favorite among fans and received numerous covers. Like “Fight Fire” and “Blackened,” it’s a shorter song with terraced dynamics and tempo changes that acts as a prelude to the album’s title track. Beginning with acoustic guitars layered to produce a medieval-consort impression, it proceeds to a heavy reorchestration (0:37) with drums, bass, and distorted guitars, then segues to a fast metal riff (1:06) that establishes a verse figure. The tritone E-Bb, a defining interval since Black Sabbath, dominates the main riff (E-Bb5-A5) juxtaposed against requisite low-E gallop rhythms. That mixture and variants are identifiers of Metallica as are odd bars of 5/4, 2/4, and 7/8 punctuating 4/4 phrases, and Hammett’s thrashing wah-inflected solo that acknowledges the influence of Michael Schenker, an early idol. The storyline’s ethos pledges allegiance to San Francisco’s familial underground metal scene, a reaction against L.A.’s glam-metal poseurs.

Hammett’s ear-catching solos enliven every track on Master. “Battery” boasts a definitive flight that captures the energy and abandon of his style. This excerpt (3:29-3:38) finds him building momentum with a series of fast pull-off sequences moving up the fretboard. Each pull-off is a small three-note cell, two of which are fingered while the third is the open third string. These are repeated as ostinatos and sequenced up in whole-step increments – a synthesis of Angus Young, Randy Rhoads, and Van Halen resulting in interesting chromatic relationships and dissonance. The phrase is answered in measure 5 by a straighter eighth-note melody that acknowledges the blues-rock/modal influence of Michael Schenker, exacerbated by prominent use of the wah as a rocked pedal and EQ filter.

“Master of Puppets” was the album’s sole single. Reputedly composed by Ulrich, the lengthy (8:36) multi-textured sectional piece reaches back to Mustaine’s tenure in the band and was Burton’s favorite track. Exceedingly popular with audiences, it remains their most-played song, with a grim storyline of drug addiction underscored by idiomatic metal mannerisms. Its heavy, muted riffing at 220 beats per minute (a speed-metal standard) includes bars of 5/8 in the oblong truncated verse phrases executed with machine-like precision. A half-time interlude (3:33) of clean-chorused arpeggiation with inserted 2/4 bars overlaid with a repeating neoclassical harmonized counter line leads to the first solo (4:10), a melodious medieval-tinged modal statement played by Hetfield. It builds to a heavier ensemble orchestration (4:49) and contrasting Phrygian (F#5-G5) down-stroke riff (5:10) for an additional verse before returning to 220 bpm (5:39) to accommodate Hammett’s speedy solo. The latter features Blackmore-like arpeggio riffs as well as tremolo picking, Satch-inspired whammy-bar antics, blues-rock string bending, and metallic shredding. The final section contains a reinterpreted quote from Bowie’s “Andy Warhol” (6:19) as transition riff into the last verse, and an effects-laden coda (8:00) with processed guitar and overdubbed laughter.

“The Thing That Should Not Be” reopened the vault of H.P. Lovecraft, venerated author of weird horror stories about unimaginable creatures from other dimensions; it had earlier unleashed “Call of Ktulu.” Its atmosphere personified metal’s occult imagery with a slower, menacing groove and eerie intervals played by acoustic guitar building to distorted electrics rendering dissonant chromatic and tritone progressions. Metallica enlarged its customary low-end girth by using Drop-D tuning for acoustic and electric rhythm guitars. The brief Hammett solo has an eccentric quality emphasized by wah sounds in conjunction with trills, whammy-bar zaniness and a careening harmonized phrase in mid flight.

“Welcome Home (Sanitarium)” was the single’s B side, a masterpiece conveying Hetfield’s heartfelt depiction of madness with progressive tangents, intricate guitar orchestration, and rhythmic fluctuations. The brooding rock-ballad feel supports its hypnotic main theme, comparable to asymmetric prog-rock figures – a cycling arpeggiated riff of 28th notes (8+8+4) rendered on clean guitar and enlarged by Hammett’s theme-conscious solo interludes in E minor illustrating his handling of mixed pentatonic and minor modes (0:47), command of diatonic semi-classical sequences, and modernistic slurred fifth intervals (2:09). An aggressive solo in double time (4:27) develops further pentatonic/modal combinations (Phrygian, Dorian) while a fourth (5:25) at the original ballad tempo explores alternate melodic colors over a harmonized riff. The cohesive arrangement is united by extensive doubled and harmonized guitar parts decorating each episode.

“Disposable Heroes,” a term borrowed from Ray Bradbury’s dystopian novel Fahrenheit 451, trumpeted an anti-war theme about expendable soldiers controlled by superiors. The master take re-created the demo with the exception of a riff cut and moved to “Damage, Inc.” One of the album’s faster tunes, it rivals earlier speed-metal tempos and was another sprawling (8:17) epic replete with unpredictable mood shifts and meter changes: beginning with the intro’s 6/4 time and 4/4 verse leading to complex combinations of 4/4 and 3/4 resulting in 11-beat (4+4+3) phrases at 1:58. A recurring Hammett part in verse endings alludes to old war-movie music while his solo, almost a minute long (4:26-5:24), is a strong personal statement – the epitome of shred-guitar heroics repurposing influences from Page, Blackmore, Schenker, Rhoads, and Malmsteen.

“Leper Messiah” is unflinching social commentary excoriating the greed, subjugation, and hypocrisy of televangelism. Origins remain elusive. While Hetfield and Ulrich claim authorship, it has become a Burton trademark song with fans for its instrumental style. Mustaine insisted he wrote the main riff, and in ’72, Bowie referenced a “leper messiah” in “Ziggy Stardust.” In any case, it sports all the right Metallica ingredients – heavy mixed-mode power-chord verse riff, inserted 3/4 and 5/4 bars, extensive chromaticism, feel and tempo changes, section-defining figures, and a concise Hammett solo merging arpeggio ostinato patterns, sequential runs, neoclassic shred, and blues-rock licks.

In “Leper Messiah,” Hammett mixes neoclassic shred, chromaticism, and pattern playing with diatonic scalar melody and pentatonic blues rock. This noteworthy solo (3:57) begins with keyboard-inspired arpeggios that have been stylistically correct since Blackmore and Deep Purple. He outlines Em, F, and G triads in the triplet patterns of measures 1-6. The slurred sequential run in 7-8 alludes to Rhoads in its tonality-defying mix of notes that culminates in E minor. The final passage, measures 9-12, conveys a contrasting bluesy feeling emphasized in its phraseology, string bends, and pentatonic note choices.

“Orion” is an instrumental opus intended as an extended bass solo. Written primarily by Burton, it begins with a faded intro of heavily processed bass parts layered to resemble an orchestra, then revolves around a moody bass line and overdubbed guitars; combining two solos by Burton (one unaccompanied in 6/8), one by Hetfield and three by Hammett. The title refers to the constellation with its “spacey sounding bridge.” Originally part of “Welcome Home,” it was separated in the studio and remained an instrumental.

The closer, “Damage, Inc.,” begins with atmospheric swelled chords and light guitar harmony suggesting a reinterpretation of J.S. Bach’s sacred song for voice and continuo, “Komm, susser Tod, komm selge Ruh” (“Come, Sweet Death”) (BWV 478). The final track mirrors the terraced dynamics of the opening song in a clever piece of bookending. However, gentleness inevitably gives way to thrash mayhem (1:19) with a heavy, punctuated metal riff that moves through various modes before establishing the main riff (verse), which spells an E diminished arpeggio in power chords – Bb5-G5-E5. Hammett’s solo is emblematic of his style, with Eurometal phrases colored with wah (rocked in time and as fixed filter) but contains some clear references to Rhoads and Van Halen in his closing chromatic patterns and ostinato tap-on sequence (4:27).

Master of Puppets was released on March 3, 1986. It reached #29 on the Billboard 200 and #7 on the Top Rock Albums chart, spent 72 weeks on charts and eventually garnered six-times Platinum. Heralded by many as the genre’s greatest album – one that redefined heavy metal, it found the band at their creative pinnacle foreshadowing …And Justice For All. It was the first metal recording honored by the Library of Congress for its cultural, historical, and aesthetic relevance. In its wake, Metallica toured with Ozzy Osbourne from March through August of ’86, increasing their fanbase in metal and mainstream hard rock. Tragedy struck during the European leg of their Damage, Inc. tour when Cliff Burton was killed in an accident that September 27, when their bus rolled off the road and he was thrown through a window. The album remains a triumph but a bittersweet work accorded an even deeper reverence for its connection with their lost bandmate.

Wolf Marshall is the founder and original Editor-In-Chief of GuitarOne magazine. A respected author and columnist, he has been influential in contemporary music education since the early 1980s. His latest book is Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language. Others include 101 Must-Know Rock Licks, B.B. King: The Definitive Collection, and Best of Jazz Guitar. A list credits can be found at wolfmarshall.com.

This article originally appeared in VG’s November 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

Stevie Ray Vaughan was unknown when he premiered at the 1982 Montreux Jazz Festival. Born and bred in Dallas, he’d played the Texas bar circuit as sideman in Blackbird, the Nightcrawlers, Cobras, and Triple Threat Revue before becoming a local phenom as frontman of Double Trouble.

Formed with bassist Jackie Newhouse and drummer Chris Layton in 1979, the definitive Double Trouble lineup was established when bassist Tommy Shannon joined in ’81. Producer Jerry Wexler, who’d coined the term “Rhythm & Blues” in 1949, had a nose for talent (Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, Allman Brothers, Led Zeppelin), and sniffed greatness when he caught the trio in Austin; he recommended SRV to Montreux promoter Claude Nobs, saying he’d be ideal for their blues night. Concurrently, SRV manager Chesley Millikin sent a Double Trouble live video to Mick Jagger, who lamented there were no competent bluesmen on the contemporary scene.

Vaughan’s notoriety spread among insiders when cognoscenti praised him following a Stones-arranged performance at NYC’s Danceteria. Though he received mixed reactions at Montreux (boos from traditionalist attendees are irrefutable on the July 17 recording) SRV made two serendipitous connections – David Bowie and Jackson Browne.

Enamored with classic R&B, Bowie hired Vaughan in December ’82 to lend his Texas-blues expertise to Let’s Dance as he made a metamorphosis from glam and post-disco incarnations to modern pop icon. SRV’s playing on the title track and “Criminal World” (touted as his finest solo on the album) provided grit that contributed to its novelty and success. It remains Bowie’s best seller. Browne heard Vaughan in the Montreux Casino lounge, and, after jamming into the morning, offered him free time at his Down Town Studio, in L.A.

“Texas Flood” is definitive SRV – a simmering slow-blues lament that is as live as it gets. Recorded in a single take as the clock ran out on the final day, it became his personal anthem and theme song. The opening recalls Fenton Robinson’s chordal intro, but given the SRV treatment with reinterpreted riffs in measures 1-2 leading to incandescent double-timed lines over the turnaround in 3-4. Note the unique G-Ab-G mordent embellishing figure that is an SRV identifier. In his solo lines of 5-8, a strong Albert King influence is felt in the strangled string bends, snapped string attack, singing vibrato, and terse rhythmic phrasing.

The music that became Texas Flood was recorded over three days during the studio’s Thanksgiving holiday, November 22-24. Day one was mostly spent setting up, with minimal recording. Sessions commenced the following day; Browne’s engineer, Greg Ladanyi, was disinterested and left engineering duties to Stevie’s cohort, co-producer/engineer Richard Mullen. SRV played through two ’64 Fender Vibroverb 1×15 combos and Browne’s 150-watt Dumbleland Special. Mullen used two Shure SM57 mics – one for a Vibroverb’s speaker, another for the Dumble 4×12 cabinet with EVs. His only effect was an Ibanez Tube Screamer. Stevie used three Stratocasters strung with heavy strings (.013-.058) and tuned down a half step. For most tracks, he favored “Number One” with its sunburst ’59 body and ’62 rosewood-board slab neck (bearing Dunlop 6150 jumbo frets) and a left-handed vibrato. He bought the guitar in the mid ’70s at Ray Hennig’s Heart of Texas Music and considered it inferior. Augmenting it was “Lenny,” a maple-board ’65 stripped to natural wood that he’d purchased at a pawn shop for $350 in 1980, and “Yellow,” a refinished rosewood-board ’59 given to him by Charley’s Guitar Shop (Dallas) owner Charley Wirz in ’81. Lenny was heard on its namesake tune and seen during Stevie’s Live at El Mocambo performance. Yellow, which was virtually a semi-hollow after having been routed to accommodate four humbuckers, was used for “Tell Me” and “Collins Shuffle” (at Montreux). Wirz installed a Strat neck pickup that accentuated its quasi-acoustic qualities.

Each track was essentially a live performance; musicians faced each other in a circle and only two overdubs (for string breakage) were required. The impassioned, no-frills demo documenting the work of a genuine blues master impressed John Hammond, who’d discovered Benny Goodman, Charlie Christian, Billie Holiday, Count Basie, Bob Dylan, and Bruce Springsteen. He took the recording to Greg Geller at Epic, who shrewdly chose to release it, and arrange a record contract. The 10 tracks, with minor additions at Austin’s Riverside Sound, were tweaked, remixed, and remastered at Media Sound and CBS in NYC.

“Love Struck Baby” was an ideal album opener. Stevie’s catchy altered-blues composition was dedicated to future wife, Lenora, and harkens to his Triple Threat days. The upbeat number is distinguished by a straight-four rock-and-roll feel, repurposed I-IV-V changes in A, and numerous Chuck Berry and T-Bone Walker jump-blues and rockabilly mannerisms, prominent double-stop riffs, boogie comping, bent triads, and inserted jazz passing chords including chromatically ascending 6/9 chords in the solo. SRV’s first single, it was backed with “Rude Mood.”

“Pride and Joy” was the second single. A 12-bar Texas-blues shuffle with a trademark comping riff, it reconciled stride-piano-inspired boogie-woogie bass lines with guitar-centric open-chord figures, country-blues strumming textures and groove-conscious soloing. Allusions to Johnny Acey’s ’62 song, “I Go Into Orbit” (including title lyric) are unmistakable, as are his turnaround figures that evoke Freddie King’s “Hideaway.” Both exemplify the living blues tradition of building on and moving past historic precedent. In SRV’s hands, Acey’s harmonica-driven traditional blues number organically became a heavier blues-rock guitar vehicle.

“Rude Mood,” Vaughan’s supercharged instrumental boogie, applies many elements heard in other E-blues pieces, but delivers them at maximum tempo with relentless force and agility. This excerpt is exemplary; check the hints of rockabilly in the boogie-woogie bass lines (accompanied by his signature muted-string hits), particularly in measures 3-6. Also notable is the long string of eighth notes and its major-pentatonic melody in 9-12; these convey a swinging country-guitar attitude. The repeated-note fanfare in 7-8 is an attention-getting device of many guitar instrumentals, heard in B.B. King’s “Just Like a Woman” and Chuck Berry’s “Guitar Boogie.”

“Texas Flood” may well have been the tune that prompted Bowie to recruit SRV. Its blues power rivals Albert King’s grittiest moments for sheer ferocity and conviction – top priorities in the blues world. The slow 12/8 blues in G was a cover of Larry Davis’ 1955 version with guitarist Fenton Robinson. SRV quoted Robinson’s guitar intro before transforming the standard into his own statement, replete with excruciatingly soulful King licks. According to Clifford Antone, “Texas Flood” came to Stevie via Angela Strehli, queen of the Austin blues scene and then-manager of Antone’s. He was initially intrigued by Robinson’s parts, learned the song with Strehli (at Antone’s), jammed on it with King, and wound up owning it. It has become synonymous with his slow-blues style and has enjoyed many reprises in his catalog.

“Tell Me” found Stevie reinterpreting Willie Dixon’s Howlin’ Wolf classic. Opting for a different sound on the track, he chose Yellow for the medium-tempo shuffle in C that bears reverential allusions to Hubert Sumlin, particularly in the chromatic turnaround lick and Ab9-G9 cadence (from the original). Notable are Stevie’s rhythm elaborations, backward-raked strums, staccato feel, and slightly overdriven tone. Its swinging solo brings Chicago-inspired triplet phrasing, serpentine blues-scale melodies, exaggerated vibrato, and tremolo-picked bent chords.

“Testify” is a resurrected soul number from the Isley Brothers, on which a pre-Experience Jimi Hendrix played guitar parts. It epitomized mid-’60s R&B with references to gospel “testifying” and acknowledgement of Ray Charles, James Brown, Stevie Wonder, Jackie Wilson, and the Beatles in the lyrics, though SRV rendered it as an instrumental vamping groove in E. His version contains unmistakable nods to Jimi’s funky lead/rhythm riff style, with emphasis on the prevalent E7#9, and his energetic blues-based soloing, but also stands as one of Stevie’s finest extended improvisations.

“Rude Mood” was Vaughan’s virtuoso showcase. Named for Joe Gracey’s Rude Records label, it had been in his set for years and was originally recorded in ’79. Eternally relevant, the fast (264-plus bpm) shuffle with aggressive multi-textured guitar work served as a dynamic closer to his famed 1984 Carnegie Hall concert. The ear-catching instrumental in E juxtaposed contrapuntal riffing and percussive string scrapes, like a hyperactive “Pride and Joy,” with white-knuckle lead licks. Tantamount to blues shredding, it presaged “Scuttle Buttin’” on the next album. The emblematic chording and single-note runs suggest its origin as a supercharged take on Lightnin’ Hopkins’ “Hopkins’ Sky Hop”and indeed Stevie openly admitted as much in a clinic clip. The piece was Grammy-nominated for Best Rock Instrumental Performance in ’84 and used as background in the trailer for Midnight Run.

“Lenny” epitomized the gentler, introspective (but no less soulful) side of Vaughan’s musical persona. More a meditation than typical slow-dance instrumental, it revolves around his unique usage of jazz sonorities and single-note responses exemplified in measures 1-4, where he plays colorful enriched voicings of E major and A major, reinterpreting the I-IV of the blues as a vamp in a jazz vein. In 9-15, he subjects major-6 chords to unpredictable modulating key centers. The progression – B-D-G-Bb, all in parallel 6th chords, moves through the same unusual thirds-related sequence as John Coltrane’s “Giant Steps,” though SRV was hardly a bebop maven. Coincidence or not?

“Mary Had a Little Lamb” was Vaughan’s undisguised homage to Buddy Guy and the influential ’68 album A Man and the Blues. The R&B-inflected/altered-blues number in E played off a similar mid-tempo groove, alternating low-register riffs and chord figures (emulating horn parts), and reaffirmed Guy’s playful nursery-rhyme story line. For many (including Hendrix and Clapton), Guy was the prototype Strat hero and preeminent second-generation Chicago-blues exponent, who exerted a powerful effect on blues-rock musicians. SRV remained true to the original version, preserving its call-and-response riffs and re-casting many of Guy’s soloing ideas.

“Dirty Pool” was composed by SRV and Doyle Bramhall, a Nightcrawlers bandmate who’d known Vaughan since he was 12. The slinking, slow blues in Dm found Stevie cultivating his glassy Strat tone and judiciously balancing tremolo-picked chord figures (a theme in the piece) and florid single-note runs. He maintained mixed textures throughout, blending sonorities with improvised melodic embellishments around the vocals, and exploited tremoloed triads and partials in his solo.

“I’m Cryin’” personified the unrequited-love angle of the blues and insinuated a slower version of “Pride and Joy” in SRV’s stockpile. Also rooted in E, it flaunted similar open-chord riffs, comping patterns, improvisations, and turnaround figures. Hardly a retread, it had been a staple in Vaughan’s set for years and an earlier version had even been recorded with Triple Threat. The track sported the only overdubbed vocal performance, recorded at Media Sound.

“Lenny” closed Texas Flood on a decisive-but-mellow tone. The haunting instrumental blended blues, jazz, soul and ethereal mood-music tangents. Performed on Lenny, it was dedicated to then-wife, Lenora, who’d scraped together funds for this birthday present and to whom it was composed in gratitude.

Distinguished by his crystalline clean Strat tone, it evoked a panoply of influences – Hendrix, Curtis Mayfield, Pops Staples, Steve Cropper, and even soul-jazz glimmers of role model Kenny Burrell. Stevie varied chord and single-note textures in the exposition; mixing pentatonic melody and R&B double stops with colorful extended chords and uncommon shifting-major-6 sonorities. Moreover, his vocalesque whammy-bar vibrato imparted an atmospheric quasi-Hawaiian effect at key points in the cycling progression. His single-note guitar improvisations split the difference between jazz sophistication and traditional pentatonic blues melody over the hypnotic vamping E-A changes.

Released on June 13, 1983 – four months after Let’s Dance – Texas Flood introduced a bold new player whose authentic influences were inescapable but not cloying. In the era of new-wave synthesizer domination, drum computers, and pyrotechnical shredding, it ignited a blues renaissance still palpable today. Strat-blues tones were never more pure, and blues-rock was never as suavely or persuasively delivered. The album garnered critical acclaim in blues and rock circles, reached #38 on Billboard, crossed over to rock radio, and eventually surpassed Double Platinum status. “Pride and Joy” peaked at #20 on Mainstream Rock charts and the album was Grammy-nominated for Best Traditional Blues Performance, “Rude Mood” for Best Rock Instrumental Performance. The 10-track program tells the tale authoritatively but is expanded on the 2013 Legacy Edition by one outtake – “Tin Pan Alley” – and nine live cuts from the period recorded at Ripley’s Music Hall, in Philadelphia, on October 20, 1983.

Wolf Marshall is the founder and original Editor-In-Chief of GuitarOne magazine. A respected author and columnist, he has been influential in contemporary music education since the early 1980s. His latest book is Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language. Others include 101 Must-Know Rock Licks, B.B. King: the Definitive Collection, and Best of Jazz Guitar. A list credits can be found at wolfmarshall.com.

This article originally appeared in VG’s October 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

It was a bio-pic fantasy. The scene: Outside a London venue where Jimi Hendrix is performing for the first time. Leaving the club, Pete Townshend encounters Jeff Beck, just arriving. Beck asks, “Is he that bad?” Townshend replies, “No, he’s that good!”

Springing from America’s R&B landscape, Jimi Hendrix was indeed that good; the real thing – something studious Brits only imagined and glimpsed in smatterings from records and rare visits by Muddy Waters and Big Bill Broonzy. Brought to England by manager/producer Chas Chandler (and former Animals bassist) on September 24, 1966, he assembled The Jimi Hendrix Experience with bassist Noel Redding and drummer Mitch Mitchell, and immediately established his preeminence and sphere of influence. After he opened for Cream on October 1 at London Polytechnic, Clapton’s reaction was akin to his colleagues, saying, “He walked off and my life was never the same again.”

Shortly afterward, the world reached a similar consensus.

Are You Experienced? marked the sound of music changing. Its impact is still reverberating; rock guitar is perceived as pre- or post-Hendrix, begun with Experienced?. Recorded between October ’66 and April ’67 at London’s DeLane Lea (DLL, a facility for dubbing movie and television scores), CBS, and Olympic studios on four-track tape machines, it’s the debut of a sweepingly influential artist, a masterpiece commensurate with the Beatles’ Revolver, and an album for the ages. Released in Britain on May 12 on The Who’s Track label, it boasted a divergent program blending psychedelic, blues, R&B/funk, ballads, pop/rock, avant-garde, prototypical metal, and world music. An immediate critical and commercial success, it remains a milestone opus. Like early Beatles and Stones albums, U.K and U.S. versions differed with singles typically omitted in England.

Before Hendrix touched it, “Hey Joe” had been recorded by numerous L.A. rock bands including the Leaves, Standells, Surfaris, Music Machine, Byrds and Love, as well as folkie Tim Rose, and even Cher. But Hendrix didn’t just cover “Hey Joe” – he owned it, and it remains a telling example of his eclectic style. Sporting a slower tempo reminiscent of Rose’s version, its moody feel was conducive to his colorful lead/rhythm approach, epitomized in the intro phrase [A]. Note his blues allusions and mix of open sonorities and chord-melody fills. His solo [B] is singable and succinct; posing simple E-minor pentatonic/blues melody over the cycle-of-fifths progression: C-G-D-A-E.

In America, it was released August 23. The stunning opener, “Purple Haze” was Jimi’s second original composition and second U.K. hit single, where it was released in March ’67, backed with “51st Anniversary.” Begun at DLL in mid January, it was the first to feature Hendrix using the Octavia and heavy fuzz, necessitating specific mastering directions: “Deliberate distortion. Do not correct.” The tune is distinguished by a menacing tritone guitar-bass intro, fuzzed funk comping that exploited a jazz-inspired E7#9 altered chord (subsequently entered into the vernacular as the “Hendrix chord”), the solo’s Asian melodic references (reputedly played on a borrowed Telecaster), and psychedelic overtones in sonics and lyrics. During the first session with Eddie Kramer at Olympic, they adopted an unorthodox procedure for basic tracks – recording stereo drums with bass and rhythm guitar on remaining tracks, then mixing down and reducing to two. This left room for vocal and guitar overdubs, satisfying Chandler’s need for more tracks, fewer takes, and Jimi’s perfectionism. Guitar and vocals were tracked and printed with effects (fuzz, reverb, echo, etc) facilitating easier mixing. Kramer used close and distant miking for amps and (along with conventional microphones) experimented with Beyerdynamic M160 ribbon mics, typically avoided at high volume levels. Jimi re-recorded vocals and lead guitar and they added Redding’s background vocals, sped-up/panned Octavia licks in the coda, and ambient sounds including phrases played back through headphones, then miked.

“Manic Depression,” recorded March 29 at DLL then re-mixed at Olympic, found JHE transforming a lilting waltz into driving rock laced with feedback, a vital color in Jimi’s palette. Propelled by Mitchell’s jazz-inspired drumming, they developed powerful forward motion through driving parallel guitar/bass riffs. The solo, begun with vocal/guitar duetting, is one of Jimi’s most-aggressive and expressive blues-rock statements.

“Hey Joe” was the Experience’s maiden voyage. Billy Roberts’ reinterpreted folk number became a rock standard, and their leader’s signature song. It exemplified his chordal style and cleaner Strat timbres through Marshall stacks – played so loud only distant miking (approximately 12 feet) was considered viable by DLL engineers. It featured his soulful melodic blues solo and backing vocals by an English female vocal trio, the Breakaways. Henceforth, Chandler insisted Hendrix write original music, and he delivered “Stone Free.” Based on “Mr. Bad Luck,” from his Jimmy James period, the groove piece with minimal overdubs blended R&B/rock with counterculture themes. It’s Jeff Beck’s favorite Hendrix composition for its amalgam of Buddy Guy and Les Paul – a combination only Jimi could muster. The first single “Hey Joe”/“Stone Free,” released December 16 on Polydor, reached #6 in England in early ’67.

“Love or Confusion,” a paean to psychedelic delirium, began with basic tracks at CBS on December 13 and reduced at Olympic on April 4, where Jimi overdubbed vocals and lead guitar. The latter included numerous counter-line fills, droning modality (Mixolydian G-F chords), a wealth of groundbreaking Hendrix ingredients – toggle-switch flicking, fuzzed octaves, feedback, whammy-bar flourishes – and a vaguely Asian/blues-inflected solo that is a mini-composition.

The promise made by “Purple Haze” was fulfilled with “Foxey Lady,” JHE’s third U.S. single. Appropriately, Hendrix seasons a thematic F#m7 main riff with occasional ad-lib inclusion of the closely-related “Hendrix chord,” F#7#9. His blues-based solo, rich in distortion, string bends and ostinato figures, reflects the minor tonality with its emphasis on F#m pentatonic melody. He enlarges the sound with the modal addition of G# in measures 3 and 6, momentarily generating an F#m hexatonic scale – an ear-catching aspect of his improvisation.

“May This Be Love” was recorded during a productive eight-hour session on April 3 (at Olympic) that also saw “Highway Chile.” Jimi’s gentle love ballad, with its major-mode sweetness, complemented the bluesy hard rock, funk grooves, and psychedelia on Experienced?. It featured rare slide-guitar effects (drenched in echo) and smooth rolling Steve Cropper-inspired accompaniment evoking “waterfall” imagery, contrasted by heavier funk rhythms in the bridge. Jimi’s lyrical solo, heavily panned for a quasi backward effect with subtle embellishments and pastoral feel acts as an instrumental extension of the innocent, almost sentimental, story line and is one of his most-memorable melodic moments.

“I Don’t Live Today” was psychedelic hard rock dedicated to Native Americans and other oppressed groups. Scheduling forced JHE to return to DLL for basics on February 20, though the vocal was recorded later at Olympic. Known for its darker libretto suggesting a Goth precursor, it was animated by a tribal rhythm groove with ubiquitous feedback, sported a sitar-like solo with vibrato decorations (backed by fuzzed octaves), and utilized a manual wah effect pre-dating the pedal (which he acquired after July ’67). Noteworthy is Jimi’s deceptive two-bar funk intro that immediately veers into heavy guitar-bass verse riffs.

“The Wind Cries Mary,” another ballad standing in stark contrast to Jimi’s progressive experimentation and aggression, merged Curtis Mayfield R&B chording and Bob Dylan poetic influences. The basic track was recorded in one take (without rehearsals) to which Hendrix added guitar overdubs, all accomplished in 20 minutes at DLL. On the recommendation of Brian Jones and Bill Wyman, Chandler took JHE to Olympic, where Polydor established credit for future dates. There, in post-production in early February, “Mary” became the first to feature Hendrix’s thoughtful overdubbing to create an intricate five-guitar composite. Released in May ’of 67, it was his third single, backed by “Highway Chile” in the U.K.), “Purple Haze” in the U.S.

Capturing the basic track to “Fire” required seven takes at DLL; modern funk/rock infused with sexual innuendo, it was a concert favorite, drawing on Jimi’s chitlin-circuit background; advancing the genre from James Brown roots to anticipate the post-’60s R&B of Sly Stone, Parliament, and Prince. JHE re-worked “Fire” at Olympic in early February, re-recorded drum and guitar parts, and doubling Redding’s bass for heavier low-end. The piece featured parallel guitar-bass riffs and Mitchell’s hyperkinetic drumming. Jimi’s structured solos were doubled (one with Octavia), functioning more as thematic instrumental interludes than free improvisation.

The promise made by “Purple Haze” was fulfilled with “Foxey Lady,” JHE’s third U.S. single. Appropriately, Hendrix seasons a thematic F#m7 main riff with occasional ad-lib inclusion of the closely-related “Hendrix chord,” F#7#9. His blues-based solo, rich in distortion, string bends and ostinato figures, reflects the minor tonality with its emphasis on F#m pentatonic melody. He enlarges the sound with the modal addition of G# in measures 3 and 6, momentarily generating an F#m hexatonic scale – an ear-catching aspect of his improvisation.

“Third Stone From the Sun” embodied Jimi’s large-scale classical ambitions, sci-fi interests and remains his greatest instrumental. It began as a demo and was reattempted at DLL on January 11 then assembled with new material at Olympic. Influenced by George Stewart’s novel Earth Abides, it presents a sprawling, complicated mix evoking an apocalyptic storyline (extraterrestrials obliterating humankind and its surf music) in a lengthy (nearly seven minutes) sectional piece filled with extravagantly diverse sonic tangents. Notable are the main theme’s Wes Montgomery octaves, hints of flamenco, Coltrane-inspired modality, free-jazz atonality in the “freak-out” section (3:06) and otherworldly sound effects (musique concrete, speed-altered processed dialog conjuring alien dialog) highlighted in the chaotic development by feedback phrases with whammy-bar manipulations emulating sirens, shrieks, explosions, revving motors, and industrial factory sounds. These are preceded by a tranquil intro, theme statements, and a brief episode of blues-guitar improvisation over a rock groove (1:26). Frank Zappa maintained Hendrix should collaborate with a musically literate partner capable of writing and preserving his ideas in notation; guaranteeing they would have permanence at conception and could be rendered by instruments other than electric guitar. Jimi never chose that route, relying instead on intuition and Chandler and Kramer to realize his ends. Nevertheless, this magnum opus and similar JHE innovations subsequently inspired progressive and jazz-rock musicians; engendering elaborations by Miles Davis, Tony Williams, Gil Evans, and Jaco Pastorius as well as blues/rock descendants Robin Trower and Stevie Ray Vaughan.

“Foxey Lady” reflected Chas’ displeasure with the sound at DLL. He opted for CBS’ acoustics to record “Foxey Lady” and backing tracks for “Love or Confusion” and “Can You See Me” on December 13. “Foxey” is an early example of distant-miking loud guitar amps (with a Neumann U-67 condenser mic). On December 15 JHE completed the tracks and recorded “Red House.” Financial disagreements forced JHE’s return to DLL on December 21, where they recorded alternate “Red House” takes and crafted “Remember,” a hybrid soul/rock song; both were later reworked at Olympic, where, on February 8, Jimi and Mitchell added overdubs to “Foxey Lady” and Redding’s new doubled bass line, an attempt to strengthen low-end. The track is remembered for Jimi’s unusual intro of volume-swelled string noise and mounting feedback, and his punchy theme riff that intermingles F#m7 and F#7#9 sonorities. His solo has strong blues-rock implications and illustrates use of modally-tinged pentatonic melody.

“Are You Experienced?” explored the fantasy land of tape manipulation. Basics were recorded April 3 at Olympic, some sections played backward and reduced the next day, making way for Jimi’s vocals, piano notes, and backward/forward guitar overdubs. Jimi became adept at backwards recording. He practiced at home with his own tape recorder and “played in” his parts in real time, anticipating the timing and phraseology of reversed attack/decay envelopes in his licks, instead of exploiting tape loops as originally planned. The practice was taken further than Revolver in these dramatic soundscapes, the rock equivalent of impressionism – music so uncategorizable it could only be described in countercultural terms as psychedelic; in the truest sense, mind-altering. Drones and pedal-point ostinatos suggested Indian music in an unprecedented synthesis of world, electronic, and rock sounds while Jimi’s muted string scrapes as deliberate percussion figures presaged Van Halen’s metallic “neat noises” (“Atomic Punk”).

Are You Experienced? offered an array of novel sounds produced by Jimi’s hands, amps, and processors, and reintroduced the Fender Stratocaster into modern rock implementation. After Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, the Ventures, and Dick Dale, interest in Fenders declined during the British Invasion, superseded by Gretsch, Rickenbacker, Gibson, and Epiphone guitars. Though the Beatles used Strats in ’65 (Harrison’s solo in “You’re Gonna Lose That Girl”), they were unseen studio instruments. Like Clapton resurrecting the Les Paul on Bluesbreakers, Hendrix reimagined the Strat’s potential; initially resetting its relevance on pre-CBS rosewood-board models. These righties were flipped (vibrato bar and controls on the opposite side) and restrung left-handed with Fender 10-38 sets. He played various incarnations and colors but expressed an early preference for white finishes during his stint with the Isley Brothers (March ’64). Presaging metal and hard-rock predilections, Jimi played very loud using Marshall stacks, with controls maxed, in the studio, and became the company’s greatest ambassador, showcased on Marshall’s ’67 catalog. His first order, delivered October 11 of ’66, included three 100-watt Super Lead heads and four 4×12 cabinets. He also used Fender Twin-Reverb amps for recording. Jimi’s effects included a Dallas-Arbiter Fuzz Face and Roger Mayer Octavia (acquired December ’66). He later added King Vox-Wah and Uni-Vibe pedals.

Wolf Marshall is the founder and original Editor-In-Chief of GuitarOne magazine. A respected author and columnist, he has been influential in contemporary music education since the early 1980s. His latest book is Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language. Others include 101 Must-Know Rock Licks, B.B. King: the Definitive Collection, and Best of Jazz Guitar. A list credits can be found at wolfmarshall.com.

This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

If any rock album can be labeled “groundbreaking,” it’s the Beatles’ Revolver. A sweepingly innovative masterpiece, it divides the ’60s in half, evades categorization, anticipated Sgt. Pepper and the “white album,” and launched myriad offshoots.

In early 1966, John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr were at their creative zenith. For Revolver, they allotted more studio time than with any previous album; still, from just April 6 until June 22, 16 songs were recorded, mixed, and edited.

Revolver opened sonic floodgates by introducing tape loops, backward and vari-speed recording along with filtering and processing, string and horn orchestration, unusual instruments, sound effects, and world sounds. The studio, coupled with the imaginative input of engineer Geoff Emerick, became the “Sixth Beatle” in addition to the band and producer George Martin. Previously forbidden close-miking of instruments resulted in improved sonics. Starr’s 22″ kick drum, muffled with a sweater, was run through Fairchild 660 tube limiters/compressors for a heavier, more-present sound. Brass and strings were close-miked in “Got to Get You Into My Life” and “Eleanor Rigby.” A speaker rewired as a microphone boosted McCartney’s bass sound, unmistakable on “Paperback Writer,” “Rain” and “And Your Bird Can Sing.” Automatic Double Tracking (ADT), employing a second machine, was used to double vocal and instrumental parts with a slight delay (24-30 ms).

The Beatles’ individuality, reflected in Harrison’s three pieces and increasingly complex music like “Eleanor Rigby,” “Got to Get You Into My Life,” and “Tomorrow Never Knows” – none of which could be effectively rendered by a rock quartet – implied a coming breakup, though the Beatles’ camaraderie was at its peak. The album’s unorthodox music accompanied story lines of humanity, death, loneliness, philosophy, and altered consciousness; the latter informed the psychedelic bent of the counterculture and acid-rock movement, and supplanted the love-song themes of earlier Beatles pop. Moreover, American country/western and folk influences, prominent on Rubber Soul and Help!, were minimized giving way to experimentation, art-rock/prog-rock precursors, and outré sounds manipulated with studio technology.

The Beatles instrument arsenal grew in ’66; Strats and Casinos (’64-’65), a Rickenbacker 4001S (’65), and Gibson J-160 were joined by new instruments including Harrison’s SG Standard, Indian tamboura, and Burns Nu-Sonic bass, Lennon’s ’62 Gretsch Nashville, Fender Showman amps with 1×15 cabs, and a cream-tolex Bassman. Sonically conspicuous were Vox 7120 guitar amps with Dick Denney’s modified Thomas Organ Super-Beatle 120-watt circuit with fuzz, Mid Range Boost (MRB) and tremolo/vibrato with hybrid solid-state preamp and tube power section, and a 4120 bass amp.

The guitar-dominated opener, “Taxman,” expressed the Beatles’ dissatisfaction with Britain’s onerous taxation, and asserted Harrison’s stature as composer, augmented by a ferocious solo accentuating McCartney’s lead-guitar abilities. He previously played lead on “Drive My Car,” “Another Girl,” and “Good Morning.” Taped noises (Harrison’s secretive count over slurred guitar notes, various sounds, and coughing) set the album’s tone and a precedent fulfilled in Sgt. Pepper as crowd sounds. The R&B groove and emphatic D7#9 chord (“Purple Haze,” anyone?) heightened its urgency. The final mix removed gimmicky vocal responses (heard on the 2022 Revolver Special Edition box set, “Take 11”), revealing how much was re-evaluated in the studio.

By 1966, it was customary to see Paul McCartney using his Epiphone Casino in the studio to demonstrate songs and parts and to play occasional lead and rhythm overdubs. On “Taxman,” though, he played a solo that ranks as one of the best in Beatledom. His aggressive phrases through a distorted Vox split the difference between hard blues-rock improvisation and raga references. His first three bars are driving and rhythmic, with droning triplet figures, pentatonic melody, string bends, and incisive phrasing while measure 4 presents a descending/ornamented scalar sequence reminiscent of a sitar.

“Eleanor Rigby” was the first song without any member playing, only McCartney’s lead vocal, Lennon and Harrison’s harmonies, and Martin’s aggressive arrangement for string octet, presaging future orchestrations. McCartney insisted the strings be given a “biting” quality, explicit in the marcato attack and minimal vibrato (“Take 2” on the box set). “Rigby” became one of the most-covered Beatles tunes, with versions by Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, and Wes Montgomery.

“I’m Only Sleeping,” Lennon’s nod to everyday life, was made preternatural by Harrison’s two-part backward guitar solos that depicted dreaming, sleepiness, and yawning.

The song began as an acoustic track with vibraphone (“Rehearsal”) and simple harmonies added in “Take 2.” A faster version was recorded as “Take 5” in preparation for the slower final. “Mono Mix RM1” unveils George’s entire backward-guitars track.

“Love You To” embodied the Beatles’ world-music proclivities, heralded Harrison’s Indian influence and increasing sitar skills, included a guest tabla player, and contains their first deliberate meter change (4/4 to 3/4) (:55). It represents a middle ground between the simple hook of “Norwegian Wood” and more-complex arrangement of “Within You, Without You,” and conveys rock intention with power chords and volume-swelled triads.

After Revolver, raga-rock trends flourished. The Stones (“Paint it Black”) and Donovan (“Sunshine Superman”) used sitar, and Indian gestures became part of rock’s language, epitomized by Yardbirds’ Jeff Beck (“Over, Under, Sideways, Down,” “Shapes of Things”).

“Here There and Everywhere,” McCartney’s debonair love ballad, was a last-minute composition that upped the ante of Pet Sounds with cluster-voiced background vocals, enriched chords, and thirds-related modulation of G to Bb. Textures and overdubs were spare and simple; in the bridge, Harrison complemented McCartney’s clean chording by adding a melodic counterline on Rickenbacker 12-string (going to two amps).

In ’66, harmony guitars were a rarity, so the tour de force double-lead in “And You Bird Can Sing” must have been a revelation. The song marked an auspicious moment in rock history, leading to twin-guitar tactics of Scorpions, Thin Lizzy, Wishbone Ash, Allman Brothers, and even Metallica. After several attempts to portray the Lennon tune with jangling/capoed 12-string parts, the track was re-made two weeks later with a harder edge and laden with intricate harmony-guitar parts played by Harrison and McCartney on matching Casinos through distorted Vox amps.

Starr’s song, “Yellow Submarine,” was a whimsical, nautical-themed acoustic sing-along with childlike trappings, employing Lennon’s processed vocal responses – at one point blowing bubbles in water, overdubs of effects from EMI’s sound library, including chains, bells, whistles, sloshing water, clinking glass, and a brass-band passage replacing a guitar solo.

Needing one more song, “She Said, She Said” was recorded hurriedly at the end of sessions, Lennon’s acid-rock narrative flaunted meter shifts – 4/4 to 3/4 – the second in their repertoire. McCartney didn’t participate, but Harrison added bass lines on his Burns Nu-Sonic, overdubbing lead melodies to Lennon’s guitar and harmonium parts, and drums. Though the arrangement was straightforward, the track introduced several tenets of prog rock.

McCartney’s upbeat piano-driven piece, “Good Day Sunshine,” alluded to Vaudeville and English cabaret, and rocked despite having no guitar. Saved by Martin’s atmospheric ragtime/boogie tack-piano, it fell short of the campiness paraded later.

“And Your Bird Can Sing,” Lennon’s enigmatic rocker, established modern guitar practices and harmonic twists, with the band’s craftsmanship evidenced in several takes. The first version was dominated by electric 12-string with distorted harmony-lead (Harrison/McCartney) only in the solo and outro (“Take 2”). A second version emphasized twin-guitar textures. In “Take 5,” the duet is conspicuous and finally heard in the bridges, solo and outro (over vocal pads). On the original final, those vocal pads are removed and guitars overpower the arrangement. Ostentatious guitar harmony was uncommon in rock and foreshadowed trends in bands like Allman Brothers and Wishbone Ash.

“For No One,” McCartney’s melancholy piano song of unrequited love, was backed by drums, dubbed bass, percussion, and clavichord; it was guitar-less and featured a largely improvised French horn solo by Alan Civil.

The bold Lennon rocker “Doctor Robert” overtly addressed drug use in pop culture, getting an appropriate rock-combo treatment with Lennon and Harrison’s intertwined distorted rhythm/lead guitars laced with MRB, feel changes, and the juxtaposition of A and B tonal areas contrasting normalcy with a blissful state.

“Got to Get You Into My Life” was the second song recorded on Revolver. Started as an exploratory acoustic piece with drums, vocals and harmonium, it was re-recorded the following day with Harrison’s electric guitars colored with fuzz, distortion, and MRB. These foreshadowed horn riffs overdubbed later. This excerpt presents the coda break where guitars (with distortion, MRB and tremolo) were brought back in. Note the layering of two simple-but-elegant parts that contain motives and melodies interpreted later by saxes and trumpets.

“I Want to Tell You,” Harrison’s third tune, continued the human interaction dynamic of “Think for Yourself” and underscored tension through altered-chord dissonance; the piano’s prolonged emphasis on a half step in E7b9. The track is further distinguished by Harrison’s processed clean-Strat sound in the main riff, faded in at the intro.

McCartney’s R&B number, “Got to Get You Into My Life,” offered a template for horn bands like Chicago and Blood Sweat & Tears, but began as a guitar/drums/harmonium/vocal rendition (“First version, Take 5”). Familiar riffs appeared as guitar parts in the second version and by “Take 8” morphed into a horn section (three trumpets and two tenor saxes) with layered guitar exploiting MRB and tremolo. Guitar parts are buried in the final mix until the coda (1:49). They used horns again in “Good Morning” and “Savoy Truffle.”

“Tomorrow Never Knows,” the title a Ringo malapropism, conveys Lennon’s stream-of-consciousness and musical travelogue of a dream world begun with “In My Life” and taken to greater heights with “Lucy in the Sky” and “Across the Universe.” Anchored to one sonority layered with tape loops, backward guitar, and tamboura drone, it was the first song recorded, the most experimental, and ultimately the closer. Originally titled “Mark I,” it adapted imagery from Buddhist text, Tibetan Book of the Dead, and Timothy Leary’s The Psychedelic Experience, something the Beatles were experiencing at the time. The basic track (“Take 1”) was a slowed percussive tape loop and guitar ostinato with overdubs of Starr’s muffled, compressed drums and Lennon’s vocal through a Leslie speaker, heard only in the last verse of the final mix. To this were added Lennon’s two-note bass riff, the tamboura drone, sustaining organ tone, Martin’s honky-tonk piano (highlighted in the ending) and tape loops (“Mono Mix RM 11”). The song was played over a C pedal, simultaneously modal and atonal with no semblance of Western harmony – only brief superimposition of Bb/C, suggesting the collision of an Indian raga and Mixolydian mode. McCartney’s avant-garde pursuits fueled his quest for novel sounds in rock. He recorded numerous tape loops at various speeds and directions (distorted guitar, laughter, rubbed wine glass, etc). Five were selected, fed back on tape machines in several Abbey Road rooms, and Emerick “…played the faders like a modern synthesizer,” synchronizing loops in real time and flying them into the track. Harrison’s backward-guitar solo, a pentatonic blues-guitar improvisation treated with fuzz, MRB, and Leslie, strengthened the otherworldly impression with its reversed envelopes. The landmark solo inspired Hendrix’s approach on “Are You Experienced.”

“Paperback Writer”/“Rain,” recorded April 13-16, are part of the Revolver canon by virtue of boosted bass, vari-speed/backward tape effects, heavy MRB guitar tones, and innovative qualities. As composer, McCartney handled distorted lead/rhythm on the former with Harrison’s chiming backbeat strums (“Take 1” and “Take 2”). The droning modal mood of “Rain” is maintained by Lennon’s distorted chording (Drop G) and McCartney’s emphatic pedal-point bass riff. A fast version (“Take 5”) was recorded and slowed down for the master version, over which backwards vocals were added to the coda.

Most Revolver songs would have been impossible to perform in ’66 without additional musicians, shuffling of roles, modern synth/sample techniques and effects processing, and elaborate stagecraft including miking sitar, tamboura, and piano. “Dr. Robert,” “She Said,” “Taxman” and “I Want to Tell You” could be played as quartet, but would be unconvincing. The Beatles never bothered trying; none were played in concert; Revolver is their first record to have that distinction.

Rubber Soul had similar limitations, but “Nowhere Man” and “If I Needed Someone” were performed onstage. And while Soul prompted the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, Revolver was first Beatles album to throw down multiple gauntlets that no one band saw fit to pick up.

Wolf Marshall is the founder and original Editor-In-Chief of GuitarOne magazine. A respected author and columnist, he has been influential in contemporary music education since the early 1980s. His latest book is Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language. Others include 101 Must-Know Rock Licks, B.B. King: the Definitive Collection, and Best of Jazz Guitar. A list credits can be found at wolfmarshall.com.

This article originally appeared in VG’s May 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.