Month: January 2010

  • Jerry and Gordon Kennedy

    Jerry and Gordon Kennedy

    Jerry and Gordon Kennedy. Photos by
    Rick Malkin

    Guitarist/producer Jerry Kennedy, recipient of four Grammy awards, is proud of his three sons, all of whom are accomplished musicians and songwriters.

    The Nashville veteran’s oldest, Gordon, is a Grammy-winning songwriter (Song of the Year for co-writing Eric Clapton’s “Change the World”) and a Grammy-winning guitarist (he was the other guitar player on Peter Frampton’s Fingerprints). Middle son Bryan has toured with and written hits for Garth Brooks.

    A song written by youngest son Shelby (“I’m A Survivor”) is the theme for Reba McIntire’s television show, and he works as the Director of Writer/Publisher Relations in the Nashville offices of BMI.

    However, Gordon is the family gearhound, and thus caretaker of the bulk of his father’s instruments, as well as an avid collector himself. Both reside in the Nashville area.

    1) 1961 Gibson ES-335 purchased new by Jerry Kennedy. 2) 1954 Gibson Les Paul goldtop. 3) 1962 Gibson SG/Les Paul Standard.

    Jerry Kennedy is originally from Shreveport, Louisiana, and his first steps to playing an instrument followed familiar footsteps.

    “My folks got me a Silvertone guitar when I was eight or nine,” he said. “I’d been beating on broomsticks and other things before then.” He took lessons from local legend Tillman Franks, and later got a small Martin acoustic. He attended “Louisiana Hayride” shows at the legendary Shreveport Municipal Auditorium, and recalls Hank Williams’ last performance there (“I was a kid sittin’ on the front row”). He also has a unique recollection about one of Elvis Presley’s performances at that venue.

    “Me and a friend went to see the show,” he recounted. “But we got mad at all of the girls screamin’, because we couldn’t hear Scotty (Moore) when Elvis was doin’ his shakin’. It upset us that we couldn’t hear the guitar.”

    4) 1959 Fender Stratocaster. 5) 1957 Fender Esquire. 6) 1960 Gretsch 6120.

    When he was 11 years old, Kennedy signed with RCA, and recorded singles that included Chet Atkins on some sessions.

    “I did two sides in Dallas and four sides in Nashville, and Chet was the leader on the Nashville sessions. I was just a kid, and it was very intimidating; he was my idol at the time and I’d listened to as much of his stuff as I could get my hands on.”

    In the mid ’50s, Kennedy also got his first electric guitar, a Fender Telecaster. By the age of 18, he was in the “Hayride” house band. Later, he went on the road with Johnny Horton and acquired a ’58 Les Paul Standard.

    “When I was playing dances with Horton, that guitar was too heavy,” he remarked. “Billy Sanford, another picker from Shreveport, had a Stratocaster that was a lot lighter, so I swapped with him and moved to Nashville in March of 1961. Shelby Singleton talked me into coming here to record, and after I got here I realized I had the wrong kind of guitar for the kind of music he was doing. So I went to Hewgley’s Music and traded that Strat for a (Gibson ES-) 335.”

    7) 1959 Gibson J-45. 8) 1961 Fender Telecaster. 9) 1946 Martin D-18.

    That ’61 335 is something of an icon – Kennedy played it while recording the guitar parts on Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman,” Elvis Presley’s “Good Luck Charm,” Tammy Wynette’s “Stand By Your Man,” and Bob Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde album, and countless other songs and albums. Furthermore, Gordon Kennedy has used the guitar on sessions with Jewel, Garth Brooks, Frampton, SheDaisy, and others. It’s now on display at the Musician’s Hall of Fame in downtown Nashville.

    Jerry detailed that the unusual-looking gizmo on the guitar is a palm pedal built by Dean Porter and installed circa 1963.

    “He built one for me and one for Grady Martin,” he recalled. “That’s the only two I know of. It was something different; a crazy idea, but I said ‘Let’s go for it.’”

    He also recalled using an Ampeg amplifier on “Pretty Woman,” which he described as “…one of the warmest-sounding amps I’ve ever used. After that, a Fender Twin owned by the studio became my favorite. If I’d been the wrong kind of guy, I would have eased out the back door with it! But I always looked forward to playing it, and since then I’ve pretty much stayed with Fenders.”

    Kennedy acquired other requisite instruments for studio musicians of the era, including a Dobro (heard on “Harper Valley PTA,” “Engine #9,” and other hits), which he and legendary producer Harold Bradley bought in the mid ’60s, and a Danelectro six-string bass guitar he played on sessions by Ray Price and Brenda Lee and more notably on “Ahab the Arab” by Ray Stevens. “We loosened the pickup on it to where it was kinda touchin’ the strings to get that sound,” he noted. Bradley is also cited by Kennedy as the creator of the fabled Nashville “tick-tack” sound, achieved by doubling a Danelectro six-string bass guitar with an upright bass.

    10) Mid-‘60s Dobro. 11) 1959 Fender Precision Bass. 12) Sobrinos De Domingo Esteso flamenco guitar.

    He later acquired a ’62 Sobrinos De Domingo Esteo flamenco guitar that Roy Orbison brought back from Spain, and there’s a Gibson ES-175 given to him by Howard Roberts.

    In 1966, Jerry became the Vice-President of Mercury Records’ Nashville division, succeeding Singleton. The shift to the producer’s chair had begun in ’62, when Singleton asked Jerry to produce a Rex Allen session. He gradually got more into production rather than session work, and a list of recording artists with whom he’s worked is too long to be printed here; the perception would be that a list of artists with whom he hasn’t worked would be shorter. His extensive work with Jerry Lee Lewis and the Statler Brothers is noteworthy, and he even produced the Statlers’ hilarious comedy material in the ’70s, when they lampooned small-town country bands under the pseudonym Lester “Roadhog” Moran & His Cadillac Cowboys.

    “That was Lew Dewitt on guitar,” Kennedy recalled with a laugh. “I don’t remember what he played, but it sounds awful. And it was awesome that they could sing off-key. It took a lot of talent to sing like that, and for Lew to play like that, although we’ve all tried to live that project down all these years. Somebody told me that album was on every bus leaving Nashville back when it was released – a must for the bus. It’s good to know that people still remember Roadhog. We’re proud of it, but we wouldn’t want to do it again.”

    1959 Gibson Les Paul Standard formerly owned by John Sebastian.

    The career move to producer didn’t stop Kennedy from garnering new instruments that provided new sounds, including a ’67 Coral Electric Sitar, and he got a Martin acoustic in the early ’70s from Hank Williams, Jr., with Bradley as go-between. He also toured on occasion with selected artists throughout the ensuing decades.

    Jerry now considers himself retired, and takes a lot of pride in the accomplishments of his sons.

    “All three are great songwriters,” he summarized. They’ve all written songs that meant something. I’m prouder of those three boys than anything I ever did.”


    As the first-born child of a Nashville veteran, Gordon Kennedy recalls seeing guitars and amplifiers around his childhood home “since I can remember. We had a piano and a juke box when we lived in Goodletsville, and the juke box was stuffed with 45s that my father was involved with, as either a player or producer. The earliest things I can remember that he produced was some of Roger Miller’s stuff.

    “When I tried to break into the studio scene here, there were a couple of people, like Harold Bradley and Chip Young, who showed me the ropes; Jerry Reed, too. Besides my father, guys like that were the ones who pulled me aside and said things like, ‘Let me show you how to do this.’ And Chip would show me how to make my strings last longer – little tricks of the trade. They were willing to pass things along to me instead of looking at me like I was a new kid. Every time I met Chet Atkins, he always had something kind and sweet to say about my dad.”

    While Gordon had access to his father’s instruments at an early age, he recalls owning the ubiquitous Harmony acoustic guitar. “But when I started to get serious about guitar, my dad could see what was coming,” he said. “So he got me a Fender Telecaster for Christmas when I was 15, and I still use it. Along with his 335, I’ve probably used those two guitars on 80 percent of the recordings I’ve played on.”

    Two months after he got the Tele, he got his first gig, playing in a band with Jerry Reed’s daughter at a school talent show. The set list consisted of the Pointer Sisters’ “Yes We Can Can,” Hank Williams’ “Hey Good Lookin’,” and the Doobie Brothers’ “Listen to the Music.” And Jerry Reed helped Gordon adjust his amp for the gig – by turning it up!

    13) Late-‘60s Coral Sitar. 14) Three Fender tweeds (front to back): 1962 Champ, 1959 Deluxe,1959 Bassman.

    “I never really wanted to play in Top 40 bands,” Gordon said. “But Dann Huff, who’s now a top producer in Nashville and L.A., his brother David, and I had a band in high school, and we played everything from McCartney to Bachman-Turner Overdrive to Brothers Johnson to Barry Manilow; we were all over the map. And even back then we picked things to play because they were great songs, not because of a certain guitar part.”

    The younger Kennedy came to public notice in a contemporary Christian band called Whiteheart.

    “The third band I ever played in had David Huff on drums again, and Larry Stewart and David Ennis, who would join Restless Heart,” he said. “And after that band, I moved over to Whiteheart. I joined to fill in for Dann (Huff) for three shows, and was with them for six years. I think there were some Dove-award nominations along the way, but we lost to Petra every year!”

    “Change the World” was co-written by Kennedy, Wayne Kirkpatrick and Tommy Sims. Performed by Clapton for the movie Phenomenon, the song had phenomenal chart success in its own right a decade ago.

    “It holds the record for being in the Top 20 for 81 straight weeks, starting in the summer of ’96,” Kennedy enthused. “And I think it was in the top spot for 17 weeks. The other day, I decided to buy some different versions of that song, and I think I downloaded – legally, mind you – 23 versions of it.”

    15) 1968 Marshall 50-watt half-stack. 16) 1964 Vox AC30 with early-‘70s Vox Escort.

    As for his use of guitars for songwriting, Gordon noted “Three-fourths of the time, for me it involves an acoustic guitar to start a song. Sometimes I’ll fool myself into thinking I’m practicing on electric, and I’ll just be riffing, but I’ll hear something, then I’ll record it so it may end up in a song.

    “I have some gourmet guitars I like to play just because they feel so good – Lowden, Avalon, Langejans – and there are certain acoustics I like better live because of their pickup system. Lately, I’ve been playing the Frampton model Martin, and I have a Clapton Martin I got when all of the action on the song was going on. I also like writing on my ’59 Gibson J-45.”

    As for his guitar-collecting propensity, Gordon noted, “To me, ‘collecting’ is sort of a loose term because I use those instruments. It just so happens that some of the things I enjoy using the most are among the most soughtafter instruments around.”

    Gordon began his education about the importance of classic instruments while he was still in high school.

    “There was a guitar in a closet at home; it looked like my Telecaster and didn’t have a case,” he recalled. “I checked it out; it was an Esquire. I started playing it, and that’s what made me notice the difference between something made in the ’70s and something made in the ’50s. Then I’d compare guitars at local music stores to my dad’s ’61 ES-335. But not every ’59 Strat you pick up is gonna be a great guitar; you still have to compare.”

    Kennedy (right) in the studio in the early ‘60s with mentor Shelby Singleton. Music publisher Jack Stapp (left), Jerry Kennedy, Roger Miller, music publisher Buddy Killen. Photos courtesy of Gordon Kennedy.

    Kennedy’s comparison shopping credo is exemplified by the story of his purchase of a ’59 Gibson Les Paul Standard that was formerly owned by John Sebastian of the Lovin’ Spoonful. He examined a total of five late-’50s Bursts at one retailer.

    “The Sebastian Les Paul sounded the best, out of the case,” he recounted. “The other four – two ’58s and two ’59s – were in new condition, and had these stories about people playing them for 30 minutes then storing them. But the Sebastian guitar sounded great plugged in, and when I heard it through a little blackface (Fender) Deluxe Reverb, it was over. The other four weren’t even close. So they’re not always the same just because of a serial number or because they’ve got P.A.F. pickups.”

    In 1999, a cousin in Shreveport served as the inspiration for his acquisition of a ’54 Les Paul similar to the one the cousin owned decades before. Kennedy bought the Les Paul, nine other guitars, and 11 amplifiers from a seller in Norfolk, Nebraska, and he and a friend drove a cargo van to pick up the cache.

    “It took 15 hours to drive there, and 16 hours comin’ back,” he chuckled. “The three best guitars in the bunch were the goldtop, a ’61 Telecaster, and a ’59 Strat with ‘November’ stenciled in it; I was born in November of 1959. There were some great amps in there, as well. I felt this (transaction) was meant to be; I stayed in touch with (the sellers) afterwards and let them know what records I was using certain guitars on.”

    Jerry’s wife, Linda, sings onstage with his band circa 1959. The guitar player on the left is Toby Johnson, and Jerry is seen at right playing a Les Paul Standard. On the set of “Good Morning America.” Gordon Kennedy (left, with his 1960 Gretsch 6120), Garth Brooks, Crystal Taliefero, Tommy Sims, Chris McHugh, Wayne Kirkpatrick, Blair Masters, Jimmie Lee Sloas. Front, Diane Sawyer and Charles Gibson.

    Gordon has used the goldtop on “Austin City Limits” backing Garth Brooks, and on session work with Faith Hill and SheDaisy, among others. He also owns a ’62 SG/Les Paul Standard with a sideways vibrato that he uses on occasion, but admits, “It’s hard to gravitate toward that one with Sebastian’s Les Paul sitting nearby. Also, an SG is a little awkward for me; it just has a different feel.”

    The aforementioned “closet Esquire” is a ’57 that Jerry Kennedy bought from Harold Bradley for $35 in the ’60s, and Gordon used it on “Float” on Frampton’s Fingerprints album. His 1960 Gretsch 6120 was a gift from Garth Brooks, and he has used it on television shows with Brooks.

    The younger Kennedy acquired a ’59 Fender Precision Bass from Jerry Reed. “He called one day and asked me to sell it,” Gordon recalled. “I asked him to get me the (serial) number off of the neck plate. I called him back 20 minutes later and said ‘Jerry, I ain’t sellin’ this bass for you. I’m buyin’ it!’ I wanted it because it was his bass, and again, I was born in ’59. He fought me for a while, with a sense of humor. About a month later, after he and I had been doing some producing together, he said, ‘I need to settle up with you, so would you be willin’ to take that bass?’ So he gave it to me. I’ve got two other basses – a newer Höfner that Leland Sklar hand-picked for me, and an early-’90s Rickenbacker.”

    Gordon also has an assemblage of classic amplifiers. “These days, the ’59 tweed (Fender) Twin is rockin’ my world. To me, it’s what everything else wants to be when it grows up! It’s spectacular.”

    Gordon and Peter Frampton sport matching guitars (and matching pants!) in concert at the Ryman Auditorium.

    His appreciation for historically-important instruments besides his father’s ES-335 began several years ago, while on tour with a triple bill of Frampton, Styx, and Nelson, where he played, onstage, the Telecaster Joe Walsh used on the James Gang’s “Funk #49.”

    These days, Gordon is more focused on songwriting than concerts and touring, and has a new home studio to handle.

    “My publishing company is beatin’ my door down, yellin’ ‘Where’s our songs?’,” he chuckled. “I’ve got a quota to hand in, and my studio’s up and running. Of the first four songs I did, one already has a hold placed on it.

    “But Peter and I will be working together every chance we get,” he summarized. “I also wrote with Lynyrd Skynyrd a week ago, so I’m staying busy.”


    Special thanks to Peter Frampton and Lisa Jenkins.


    This article originally appeared in VG‘s October 2007 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Fender’s Mid-’50s Precision Bass

    Fender’s Mid-’50s Precision Bass

    ’54 Precision Bass: VG Archive, courtesy of Rockohaulix.

    In the world of electric basses, the 1952 Fender Precision is the one that started it all.

    While it’s true that Gibson, Rickenbacker, and Audiovox all built electric basses some years earlier, the instrument developed by Leo Fender and George Fullerton has always been considered the progenitor of the modern electric bass.

    The Precision was introduced at a time when musicians were beginning to pay more attention to electric stringed instruments, and its acceptance was bolstered by the fact that the Fender company had also marketed a successful solidbody electric guitar (the Esquire/Broadcaster/Telecaster) shortly before the Precision was introduced in late 1951.

    The Precision originally emulated many elements of its six-string sibling, including a maple neck with black dot fretboard markers, a “slab” body made of ash (finished in a dark blond that has come to be known as “butterscotch” in vintage-guitar parlance), black Bakelite pickguard, and through-the-body string loading. Electronics consisted of one single-coil pickup with level polepieces, and master volume and tone knobs mounted on a small metal plate. Its bridge had two pressed-fiber saddles, each handling two strings. A bridge cover and a handrest (covering the pickup) proffered an aerodynamic aesthetic (possibly to counter the “plank” designation some players used in reference to Fender’s slab-body instruments), and it had a finger rest on the treble side of the body. Its 34″ scale would ultimately become the industry standard.

    And while its headstock looked similar to that on the Tele, the P-Bass didn’t look completely like a big brother, as it’s a double-cut instrument, with a large pickguard that covers both cutaway horns.

    In 1954, the Precision underwent several significant changes, and while modifications to the Telecaster occurred around the same time, those on the P-Bass also owed a tip of the headstock to Fender’s newer solidbody guitar, the double-cut Stratocaster introduced the same year. Perhaps the most important change was the a forearm bevel on the front and a “belly cut” on the back, essentially matching the profile of the Stratocaster (some without the belly cut, known as “slab” bodies, were made as late as 1957).

    ’56 Precision Bass: VG Archive, courtesy vintage-sales.com.

    There were cosmetic changes to the second generation P-Bass, as well. The standard finish became a yellow-and-brown sunburst, which was also standard on the Stratocaster, and its pickguard was changed to white (also per the Strat), though the P-Bass’ guard maintained its large silhouette. Blond became an optional finish and also took on a lighter shade, a la Telecaster finishes of the era (often dubbed “Tele blond”). Pickguards on contoured blond mid-’50s P-Basses remained black but were eventually also changed to white.

    While the overall aesthetics of the mid-’50s P-Bass tilted more toward the Stratocaster instead of the Telecaster, its peghead retained the Tele-type profile.Other transitions happened in 1955, including steel bridge saddles replacing the pressed-fiber units, and the pickup was given staggered-height polepieces to better balance string output.

    In 1956, Fender began offering the Precision in certain Dupont colors for an extra charge, though this had apparently been an unofficial policy all along. The option was supplanted by an official list of custom colors later in the ’50s.

    The difference in comfort between the early- and mid-’50s P-Basses is obvious thanks to the contouring on the latter, but many mid-’50s examples also have the reputation of being surprisingly light.

    In ’57, the Precision assumed the silhouette and electronics layout it has had since, including a split-coil pickup with two polepieces for each string, a smaller pickguard on which the control knobs were placed, and a headstock silhouette that matched the Stratocaster. The bass’ hardware and electronics have been improved over the decades, and there have been other changes and adjustments along the way, but a standard P-Bass today looks pretty much like the version introduced a half-century ago. And while Fender has reissued the early-’50s “slab” configuration of the Precision and the fully contoured late-’50s version, it has not reissued the mid-’50s variant, though the Sting signature model is inspired by it.

    The in-between Precision was around about as long as the original, and proved the company was forging ahead with improvements that would make a huge impact on popular music.


    This article originally appeared in VG‘s May. ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


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  • Rocco Prestia

    Rocco Prestia

    Rocco Prestia Photo: Neil Zlozower.

    Bass great Jeff Berlin calls him “my all-time favorite groove player.” The equally formidable John Patitucci proclaims, “The guy has not only been a serious influence on most of today’s major-league players, he actually founded the damn league.” And no less than Nathan East marvels about bass lines “I could only hope to figure out and dream of someday being able to play.”

    The man whose praises they and others have been singing for years is Francis “Rocco” Prestia, for most of the past 40 years bassist with soul ambassadors Tower Of Power.

    In his award-winning book Standing In The Shadows Of Motown: The Life And Music Of Legendary Bassist James Jamerson, Allan “Dr. Licks” Slutsky declares, “The hardest working right hand in the bass business has to belong to [Prestia]. There has been a steady stream of staccato 16th notes and offbeat accents flowing out of the West Coast ever since he exploded on the pop music scene as a member of the Rolls Royce of funk bands, Tower Of Power. If you’ve ever tried to play any of Rocco’s bass parts, you have my sympathy. Your hands are probably just starting to uncramp. The technical demands of playing his lines from Tower Of Power songs like ‘Soul Vaccination,’ ‘You’ve Got To Funkifize,’ or ‘What Is Hip’ are overshadowed only by the creativity and originality of his melodic ideas and overall concept.”

    The branch of rhythm and blues known as soul music is invariably subdivided according to regional schools – like Memphis, Philly, Muscle Shoals, “Northern Soul” in England, and of course the Motown sound of Detroit. San Francisco, on the other hand, was the incubator for ’60s psychedelia. Tower Of Power members would be quick to point out that they didn’t come from San Francisco; they cut their teeth in the East Bay, across the bridge, in Oakland. But the 10-piece, horn-laden funk machine benefited from the proximity, becoming regulars at the Fillmore Auditorium and eventually signing a management deal with the ballroom’s impresario, Bill Graham. Though the band’s 1970 debut, on Graham’s San Francisco label, failed to chart, its sound and title staked their claim in no uncertain terms: East Bay Grease.

    By the time of its follow-up, 1972’s Bump City (Warner Bros.), tenor saxophonist and founder Emilio Castillo and baritone sax man Stephen “Funky Doctor” Kupka had established themselves as an impressive writing duo – co-writing the dance hit “Down To The Nightclub” with drummer David Garibaldi and penning the ballad “You’re Still A Young Man,” which penetrated the Top 40.

    Soul icon (and Booker T. & The MGs guitarist) Steve Cropper produced the album. (For contractual reasons, engineer Ron Capone was credited as producer of the sophomore release, but Prestia concurs that Cropper produced it.) “Besides being a really fine musician and bass player who knows the instrument well,” Cropper says of Rocco, “he’s one of the better time-keepers on bass than anybody I ever worked with. His work with David Garibaldi – the tightness of his 16th notes and David’s kick drum – is phenomenal. It’s so clean and so precise. And they’re great entertainers as well; when you go see Tower Of Power, they I the tower of power!”

    Prestia’s incessant, two-fingered, 16th-note approach is best illustrated on the aforementioned “What Is Hip?” from the band’s self-titled third album. A minor miracle of stamina, for starters, it drives the song’s jackhammer groove like few bass parts in the R&B canon.

    The album, featuring singer Lenny White, also produced another funk workout (and Prestia tour de force), “Soul Vaccination,” and the ballad “So Very Hard To Go” – this time edging just below the Top 10, on both the Pop and R&B charts.

    Despite numerous personnel changes (including five lead singers in the group’s first decade), Tower remained a force to be reckoned with. If the band wasn’t working (which was rare), the horn section was – their distinctive sound tapped at one time or another by headliners ranging from Rod Stewart to Huey Lewis, Santana, Aerosmith, and Elton John.
    In ’77 Prestia got the axe, but Tower rehired him in ’84. His initial replacement in the interim was Victor Conte, more (in)famous today as the founder of Bay Area Laboratory Cooperative, or BALCO, which was involved in Major League Baseball’s steroid scandal.

    In addition to solo projects by Tower alumni Bruce Conte and Mic Gillette and “Doc” Kupka’s splinter project, the Strokeland Superband, Prestia’s bass has graced albums by Percy Mayfield, Gov’t Mule, and others, and in 1999 he released a fine solo album, Everybody On The Bus (Lightyear), featuring former and current bandmates such as Garibaldi, guitarists Bruce Conte and Jeff Tamelier, and keyboardist Chester Thompson. Three tutorials have also been devoted to Prestia’s bass style: Francis Rocco Prestia Live At Bass Day DVD, filmed in ’98; Cherry Lane’s Play-It-Like-It-Is book/CD package, Sittin’ In With Rocco Prestia Of Tower Of Power; and his hard-to-find VHS course, Fingerstyle Funk.

    In recent years, Prestia underwent heart valve replacement surgery and a liver transplant, but, still on tour with T.O.P., his playing shows no signs of slowing down.

    In his Jamerson opus, author Slutsky paid Rocco perhaps the ultimate compliment. The book is half biography and half transcriptions of the Motown genius’ bass lines, with an accompanying CD featuring those parts played by bass giants from Jack Bruce to Geddy Lee to Anthony Jackson. Slutsky writes, “When Rocco handed in his tape of [the Contours’] ‘Just A Little Misunderstanding,’ he told me he never realized how deeply James Jamerson had affected his playing until he had to sit down and actually play one of his bass parts note for note. But the similarities in these two bassists run much deeper than just notes or rhythms. Both Jamerson and Rocco are the originators of unique schools of bass playing that have been copied all over the world… But just as there was only one James Jamerson, there is only one Francis ‘Rocco’ Prestia. There isn’t a bassist alive who sounds like either of them.”

    Did you grow up in the East Bay?
    Yeah, the band started in Fremont, and then we moved up to Oakland. I was in the original version of the band, in ’65, and we changed the name to Tower Of Power in ’68. Before that it was a few things – the Section Five, Black Orpheus, the Gotham City Crime Fighters, the Motowns.

    Was it always funk and R&B?
    No. There was always a touch of it, but we didn’t change over ’til mid ’67 and ’68. Started adding horns.

    Before that, was it just rock and roll?
    Not really rock and roll either. We did some soul tunes, and some Paul Revere & The Raiders, some Stones, the Animals, and stuff like that.

    How old were you when you started playing bass?
    Fourteen. Mimi [Emilio Castillo] and I went to high school together. He was a year ahead of me. He just wanted to form a band, so we did. They needed a guitar player, so I auditioned. Couldn’t play to save my life, but I had good hair, so they decided to keep me [laughs]. They said, “You can play bass, because you can’t play guitar.”

    Mimi’s father knew this guy, Terry Saunders – jazz player out of the Bay Area – and he used to come in once a week and show us all the latest tunes, and show everybody their parts. That’s how we learned how to play.

    What equipment were you using then?
    My first bass was a Fender. I think it was a Precision. I played other basses, but that was the first rental bass that was brought and put in my hand.
    I had a Silvertone guitar and amp I bought from Sears; 60 bucks for the set. But it was just one of those things; it just wasn’t in me to play guitar, for whatever reason.

    When you switched to bass, did you adapt to it quickly?
    Mmm… I didn’t play seriously until probably years later, when I made the decision that this was what I was going to do.

    By the time you got out of high school, you guys had already been playing together a while.
    Oh yeah. By the time I got out of high school, I graduated in ’69 and we recorded in ’70. So yeah, the decision was made by then.

    How many Tower albums were you on before you left the band?
    From the beginning until Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now [eight albums]. Then I got fired in ’77, and they rehired me in ’84.

    In the interim had the band changed much?
    Well, the way I understand it, I should be happy I wasn’t there during those years. They were pretty lean times for the band. A lot of changes went on. I wasn’t expecting to come back, so when I did it was like coming home, you know. It was all good. Once I settled in, it was fine.

    Was David still the drummer?
    I don’t think so. He was in and out so many times.

    After you got assigned to play bass …
    When I started to really establish myself as a bass player, I grew up with sounds. It was Motown, it was Philly, it was Chicago – it was sounds. Like James Brown. Whenever I heard something new, I’d try to get that kind of groove. As far as the players, I didn’t know who the players were ’til much, much later. There was Jamerson and Carol Kaye, but there are people I don’t know to this day. I keep hearing little tidbits about people who were around back then. Nathan Watts is a good friend of mine, and he’ll tell me about some guy – “So and so played on that.” “Really?” I’m still kind of flabbergasted by who did what and when. But the Chuck Raineys and Jamersons and the guys on the Philly stuff were influences.

    Prestia with Tower of Power at New Orleans Jazz Fest in early '08

    Prestia with Tower of Power at New Orleans Jazz Fest in early ’08. Photo: Clayton Call.

    In terms of the parts you played and developing your styles, were you pretty much left to your own devices?
    The band was pretty much free like that, yeah. And back then it was a lot easier to have a “band.” It’s harder to do that these days, I think, comparatively, especially as you get a little older and start having responsibilities. Which is fine, too. But we were doing original music early on, so we had a chance to create a style. Looking back, you don’t realize that’s what you’re doing – especially something like being a bass player; I was just a guy in the back. I’m not the songwriter or anything. But as years go on, people say, “Oh, man!” You just take it with a grain of salt. Then you wake up one day and look at your history and, “Yeah, I guess I do play differently than other guys.” But you – at least I – just don’t think about it. I play a piece of wood with some frickin’ metal. I play the way I feel. The tunes have certain outlines, for sure, but there’s a lot of freedom, and I certainly try to take advantage of it. It can cause you to mess up sometimes, but so what? You should go for it and have some fun.

    Being able to create a style and be in an organization for so long gives the opportunity. Guys ask, “How did you do that?” Well, that’s how it happened. If I’d been bouncing around playing with many groups, I wouldn’t have had that opportunity. Maybe it would have happened, but it would have been different than it is now – let’s put it that way.

    When you talk about it being easier to be in bands then, you also were in a certain time and place – the Bay Area.
    That was the time for music, man – bar any place in the country. No question about it. The Fillmore, Bill Graham – forget about it. There was no place like that in the world.

    A lot of rock history written by people who weren’t there typify the Fillmore and Avalon audiences as a bunch of stoned hippies who’d go for anything. But those audiences knew good from bad, because they were exposed to so much.
    Oh, yeah. It’ll never be duplicated. It was incredible. I mean, superstar bands all together in one night – that was just a common thing. It wasn’t even like, “Well, if we could.” Bill was the only guy in the country who could pull it off. Fillmore East was a disaster, though (laughs)! It was just a crappy venue.

    In terms of the “San Francisco sound,” the East Bay was different.
    Well, we went out of our way to separate. It was important for us to separate from that whole San Francisco sound. Because we weren’t like that. It was real important for us to identify with the East Bay. That’s what we were.

    Was it natural that the East Bay had more of a funky feel, or was it just a coincidence that you guys happened to be there and were a funky band?
    Hell, I don’t know. The Whispers were around then, the Natural Four – there were singing groups, but they were soul.

    Do you remember a group called the Spiders with a singer named Trudy Johnson?
    Oh, man! That was our favorite group. Trudy Johnson was Terry Saunders’ old lady. That was the band. Even to this day, those were the guys.

    They played high school dances and I.D.E.S. Hall, this little union hall.
    That was the place! A big little barn.

    When you started developing a style, unconsciously or not, was it natural that a certain technique developed, or was it something you studied?
    Oh, no.

    Is your right-hand picking two fingers or three?
    Just two. It’s just the way I play. The best way I can describe what I do is, it’s just very percussive. That’s the way I play. I mean, I’ve tried to play lines [differently], and it just sounds weird.

    Who are some of your favorite bass players?
    The guys with James Brown, from Sly… Larry Graham. There was Duck Dunn, Chuck Rainey, Jamerson, Jerrold Jemmott. I wasn’t big into rock guys. Once I got into soul, that was it. That old soul stuff is where I come from. I don’t listen to music that often, but when I do that’s what I listen to.

    All the influential R&B bass players who’ve been the building blocks for the ones who followed are very different, stylistically.
    And all those guys are very well-educated, the way they came up. But yeah, there are a lot of styles. You don’t see it too much anymore. It’s pretty interesting to think about it.

    The role of the bass player in this group…
    It’s a job, man.

    It’s maybe the only group where the horn players are more famous than…
    That’s a matter of opinion…

    I was going to say than the singers – because Tower has had a succession of lead singers.
    Well, there was Blood, Sweat & Tears, Chicago.

    But they weren’t funky like you guys.
    Completely different. But they made the money (laughs)!
    It’s a combination of everything. It works together. Inside the band, we tease each other, but the horn section and the rhythm section go together like a hand and glove – especially when [trumpeter] Greg Adams was arranging. He knew how to arrange the horns to get the maximum out of the section.

    Are you cuing off anything specific?
    Oh, sure. It could be a horn line; it could be a vocal; could be a setup on the drums. Any number of things could set it up – a change or a dynamic, whatever. But there’s always something you’ve got to cue off.

    Tower’s first album was produced by David Rubinson.
    Yeah, and then the second one was produced by Steve Cropper.

    After that, the band produced its next several albums. Were those done by committee, or how did that work?
    Everybody had input, but the bottom line goes back to Mimi. He would be the “executive producer,” no matter.

    Why were there so many singers in this band?
    Because we got tired of their asses!

    Usually that would spell failure for a band because the audience identifies with the singer.
    For whatever reason, they either wouldn’t work out, or they’d leave on their own. You know, singers in general are freaking head cases. A lot of them have “L.S.D.” – Lead Singer Disease, for anyone who doesn’t know. We had a lot of great ones, though.

    Was Everybody On The Bus your first solo album?
    My first and only – unless you’ve got some paper (laughs)!

    After being a band member for so long, how did you decide what direction to take for a solo project?
    I didn’t, really (laughs). It’s what was available at the time – tunes I had written. I’m not a real writer, so at that particular time of my life… staying up all night partying, we wrote a lot of tunes. And what came out came out. As far as a solo album, it was an opportunity offered, and it just worked out. I never really worked in that way, like, “Oh, I’ve got to do this.” It just kind of fell in my lap. But I’d love to do another one.

    It’s mostly small-group configurations, and not a lot of horns. Did you purposely go a different direction than the bigger, horn-heavy Tower sound?
    Yes, I did. I mean, what’s the point? If I’m going to do that, I might as well call it Tower Of Power II. It wouldn’t be the same type of tunes, but it would sound alike.

    I did use some of the guys in the band, though. Jeff Tamelier was the [Tower] guitarist before Bruce came back, and I used Doc; they went together a lot.

    You also play on Doc’s Strokeland Superband CDs.
    Right. That’s not a “band” band. Mostly he would use our rhythm section, but the way we would do it is we’d go in, rehearse, and just knock it out the next day. Whereas with Tower it’s a lot more arranged. So it’s kind of unique. I kind of like it; it keeps it fresh, and gives you a chance to kind of go after it. I actually enjoyed it quite a lot. It puts a little pressure on you, and that’s always good, too.

    What’s your amplification setup?
    I had a deal with Eden, and I had a deal with SWR – so I’m using an SWR 1,000-watt head and a new Eden bottom with eight 12s.

    What kind of strings do you like?
    Dean Markley makes them – they have my name on them and everything. They’re NPS RoundCore – I think .045, .065, .085, 1.05. I’m involved with all the development of everything that I use, and once it’s done, why retain that stuff?

    Is your bass custom-made?
    It’s a Conklin [Groove Tools GTRP-4, co-designed by Prestia]. He’s out of Springfield, Missouri. It was supposed to be on the market, but the deal for distribution all kind of dissipated, so I don’t know if there are any others out there. I have a few. I like the way it feels; I like the balls, the tone. It’s right between a P and J. It’s just personal preference. I’m not into expensive; I’m into what feels good, sounds good – I’m happy. Like I said, it’s a piece of wood.


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


    ROCCO PRESTIA & TOWER OF POWER

  • Lissa Schneckenburger – Song

    Lissa Schneckenburger plays “progressive” New England/Celtic music that combines equal parts traditional harmonic textures with a modern acoustic sensibility. Her voice has a pristine directness that perfectly suits these traditional tunes.

    Song is Schneckenburger’s third release, and the first of two that focuses on material from the New England region. Some of the tunes date to the 18th century, and much of the material was gleaned from the work of ethnomusicologists such as Phillips Barry. And even if the tunes are historically correct, they aren’t dry or academic – every selection is vibrant and contemporary.

    Along with her regular band, Schneckenburger enlisted the aide of accordion players Sharon Shannon and Jeremiah McLane and cellists Rashad Eggleston and Natalie Haas. Eggleston’s signature pulsing chop propels the 19th-century song “The Old Beggar Man” into the 21st century. Sharon Shannon’s rhythmically precise accordion parts on “Lumberman in Town/Go Ken Go” provide Schneckenburger with a perfect foil for her immaculate vocals.

    In the early days of the folk boom, many performers gave lip service to “preserving folk heritage” while making essentially pop music. On Song, Schneckenburger offers renditions with as much passion and life as any contemporary composition.

    This article originally appeared in VG‘s Jul. ’08 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • John 5

    JOHN 5 PHOTO

    Photo: Neil Zlozower.

    Best known as the scary-looking guitarist for metalmen like Rob Zombie, Rob Halford, and Marilyn Manson, John 5 is also regarded as a country twanger and namesake of his own signature Fender Telecaster. Recently, he released his fourth solo album, Requiem, again a blend of terrifying metal instrumentals and bad-ass country shred. Let’s learn more.

    What was your goal for this record, guitar-wise?
    I wanted to put larger pieces of music together – like little symphonies of guitar music, but not make it sound neo-classical. I wanted to take you through different journeys and different sounds. Because the music became so long, we had to put ID markers in the songs, but when you listen to the CD it all connects. We started writing on the Zombie tour and I would fly in whenever I could to record. We only got studio time after midnight, so it was grueling and fun, but your mind seems to wander in a different area in late hours. There are definitely all different types of music on the CD. There’s Western swing, country, classical, and lot of guitar shredding. So I think it’s going to be any guitar player’s wet dream.

    What are a few of the effects we hear on the album? There seem to be a fair number of warbling, tremolo-type sounds.
    I didn’t use too many effects. The warbling sound is a Boss Chorus cranked all the way up. We employed a Theremin like the Beach Boys used, and a Line 6 delay pedal with a reverse effect. I also had my basic Boss Super Overdrive and, for rhythms, a Bass Micro synthesizer by Electro-Harmonix.

    What amps did you use on the album?
    I used mostly Marshalls – the JCM800 and a JTM45-100 from around 1966. I used a Marshall 200 called the Pig, a very rare amp from ’67. Lastly, I played the new Eddie Van Halen amp made by Fender.

    Tell us about the Fender John 5 Telecaster. How well has it been accepted by the normally traditional audience of Tele players?
    In the past year, I’ve seen a lot of the J5 Telecasters out there. I’m very proud of that because I love the Telecaster and having my name associated with that great guitar. We’ve done three models so far. I still play my prototype J5 Telecaster and Fender is going to make a Squier Signature model based on it, priced in the low $200s. It’s going to have two humbuckers, chrome pickguard, and white binding like a Tele Custom. It will have a regular Telecaster headstock, too. My prototype guitar has been my main guitar for many years. I love it more than anything in the world.

    What is different about that Twisted Tele neck pickup?
    It uses the longer magnets from a Jazz Bass pickup. That makes it very usable – there is enough dynamic range for leads without getting muddy.

    What does the three-per-side headstock do for you, as opposed to a traditional Tele headstock?
    I loved the Fender Villager acoustic guitar when I was growing up, and always thought the headstock was wild. I love doing things a little different, a little unorthodox, and wanted to have that kind of headstock on my signature Telecaster. Boy, did it get a lot of attention. I also shaved the side of the neck so I could do comfortable string bends. I think it looks very shocking as well when you pull it out of the case. A lot of people were like, “What’s that?” That also happens when I walk into a room sometimes, so I wanted to have a guitar that was as odd looking as myself.

    Where did your country chops come from?
    I’ve always been interested in country guitar playing. I used to love to watch the old pickers on TV and it was so different from the rock and roll that I was doing. In 1996, when I was playing with K.D. Lang, I knew a little bit about country and could get my way through a song. But there was a pedal-steel player on the road with us named Larry Campbell (also a longtime sideman for Bob Dylan). He played fiddle, banjo, guitar, and mandolin and knew everything there was to know about country music, so he taught me a lot. After that, all I did was take country guitar lessons, learning bluegrass, flatpicking, banjo rolls, double-stops, behind-the-nut bends, and chicken picking. It was like learning guitar again all over.

    What are the prize vintage guitars in your collection?
    I have pretty much all the Teles from 1962-’78, but I need to finish my black-guard collection. All I need is a ’51. But I also have a ’51 Esquire and a ’53 Tele, both great condition. My big prize, however, is a 1950 Broadcaster I purchased from Norman’s Rare Guitars. It’s in his book, and the description is, “One of the cleanest Broadcasters ever seen.” I paid an unbelievable amount for this guitar… and sold my soul!

    You’ve worked with a lot of notable metal singers. What does it take for a side man to remain a valuable commodity gig after gig? I assume that your guitar playing is only part of the story – you probably have the right personality skills to navigate these bands.
    The number one rule for playing for rock bands is that you are playing for the artist – you are not playing for yourself. It’s their gig. You have to make that person sound as good as possible. You have to be aware that if a certain artist doesn’t like hamburgers, you don’t come on the bus with a Big Mac. Also, be aware of your stage presence. Not too much, not too little – just the right amount. And don’t just bust into a solo onstage. If they want you to solo, they’ll let you know. So in all, you have to have a fair amount of self-awareness, both onstage and off. It’s what helps you keep your current gig… and score the next one.



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



    John 5 Dimarzio

  • Paul Priest – The Keeley Effect

    The title references the “impact” of the guitar effects pedals made by Robert Keeley in making the album. That’s all fine and good, but more important is the fine music, propelled by the fine guitar playing of Paul Priest.

    A stylistic mixed bag, highlights include the horn-driven pop of “Feelin’ the Love” with its “old-time-hit” feel where clean rhythm guitar stands out. Likewise the wonderful soul of “People Saving People.” There’s plenty of foot-stomping rock and roll, too. “So Deep” starts with harmonized leads that take you back to the ’70s. The boogie of “1969” fits the title perfectly, with feel and tone reminiscent of a time when guitar sound was integral to a rock song. The solo – heavy on the wah – is a perfect reflection of the era.

    There are nice experimental sounds, too. Guitars dive in and out of “B.A.R. (Baghdad Airport Road)” to perfectly illustrate the title. And “The Eternal Caress of Madame Music” is over 13 minutes of music that lets Priest stretch out. By the way, if you are a gear freak, there is a breakdown in the liner notes of everything used on each cut. –

    This article originally appeared in VG‘s Jul. ’08 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Joe Bonamassa

    Joe Bonamassa

    Joe Bonamassa.

    Asked whether he gets philosophical at the thought of turning 30 (his birthday was May 8), Joe Bonamassa is reluctant. Maybe because since before his 14th birthday, he has made in his way in the world by working as a musician – one who knows the importance of vintage guitars.

    Born and raised in Utica, New York, Bonamassa credits his father, who owned a music store, for nurturing his appreciation.

    “He was a used and vintage guy,” Bonamassa said. “So when I started playing guitar at age four, I played things like a beat up Olympic White ’60s Fender Strat, and a ’50s Martin D-28. I got used to playing the old ones, so I still don’t like the feeling of a shiny new guitar in my hands. I feel like I’m gonna scratch it or break it. I’m a lot more comfortable playing things that are worn. But now that a lot of the old ones are real valuable, that can be kinda back to square one.”

    At some point, young Bonamassa’s guitar prowess earned him the nickname “Smokin’ Joe,” though today he prefers to avoid it.

    “I think (boxer) Joe Frazier had a better deal,” he chuckled. “A harmonica player in upstate New York came up with it. I’d played classical guitar, as well, but kinda rebelled when I heard Eric Clapton and Peter Green. I was hooked on that kind of music from then on. So I started playing blues festivals when I was nine, and the nickname came around that time. I never really adopted it because I didn’t want to be known as a ‘nickname’ player, especially when I started solo projects. It’s true that for a while, some people didn’t know who I was without hearing the nickname, but getting rid of it made a lot of sense.”

    Early-'60s Airline

    Early-’60s Airline

    1961 Guild X-350

    1961 Guild X-350

    Mid-'50s Gretsch Country Club

    Mid-’50s Gretsch Country Club.

    Hoyer archtop

    Hoyer archtop

    Bonamassa has had numerous associations with older-generation players such as Buddy Guy, Stephen Stills, Robert Cray, Danny Gatton, and especially B.B. King, having opened for the King of the Blues at the age of 12. And he has continued to tour with King over the years.

    Asked why his experiences with such legends have been so positive, Bonamassa chuckled, “I listened to old records… I should have been born in 1950. I’m into old guitars, I’ve owned an old car, and for a large portion of my life, I didn’t listen to anything that was made after 1974. When I met all of those guys, they liked the fact that I could kinda talk the language in the sense that I knew a lot of the ins and outs of older recordings. And to be honest, a lot of the people I’ve opened for tend to draw a bigger crowd, so I’d tempered my act to fit that type of audience.”

    Bonamassa was booked to open for Stevie Ray Vaughan, but the Texas guitarist was killed in a helicopter crash two weeks prior to the engagement.

    He acknowledges that his profile was raised by playing in Bloodlines, a band that included second-generation players Erin Davis (Miles’ son), Waylon Krieger (Robby’s son), and Berry Oakley, Jr. (son of the late Allman Brothers bassist).
    “It definitely helped a lot,” he said. “I was signed to EMI Records when I was 13; I was discovered when B.B. King took me on tour, then a TV show called ‘Real Life with Jane Pauley’ did a 20-minute segment on me in prime time on Sunday night. But EMI didn’t know what to do with me; I didn’t sing, didn’t write. Bloodlines taught me what to do, and what not to do; if I hadn’t played as a member of that band before my solo career, we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation!”

    After Bloodlines, Bonamassa began concentrating on lead vocals, which he calls “the biggest pain-in-the-ass thing I’ve ever done in my life.

    “If you’re a guitar player or bass player, and you’ve got the flu or a sore throat, you may still be able to play. But if you’re the lead singer, you don’t know how it’s going to sound, and it can be nervewracking. But I do enjoy singing, and I think it has made me a better guitar player.”

    1931 National Triolian

    1931 National Triolian

    1969 Martin D-28

    1969 Martin D-28.

    1961 Fender Esquire

    1961 Fender Esquire.

    1963 Fender Stratocaster

    1963 Fender Stratocaster.

    Bonamassa’s solo career had an impressive start. His initial effort, A New Day Yesterday, was produced by the legendary Tom Dowd, who Bonamassa praised as “a genius and a gentleman of the highest order.”
    “He was 74 years old when I worked with him, and he was the most brilliant, unassuming guy I’ve ever met. Here’s a guy who worked on the Manhattan Project, and he’d be more than happy to tell you about how he recorded Otis Redding, or how the Cream got a certain tone. To have my first solo album produced by him was an honor; I equate the time I spent in the studio with him to getting a four-year degree. He knew everything; he’d conduct a power trio like he was conducting an orchestra.”

    A New Day Yesterday initiated Bonamassa’s propensity for naming albums after cover songs; in this case, one on Jethro Tull’s second album, Stand Up. His most recent offering, 2006’s You & Me, breaks the tradition, but still includes noteworthy covers, from the opening front-porch stomp of Charlie Patton’s “High Water Everywhere” (a nod to Hurricane Katrina), to an extended version Led Zeppelin’s “Tea For One,” of which Bonamassa said, “The playing definitely has some of my Robin Trower moments and my Frank Marino moments.”

    Bonamassa’s guitar collection today includes about 190 instruments, and he discussed some appropriate classic representatives of his assemblage. He doesn’t have his first guitar – a Chiquita. “I traded it in on a ’72 three-bolt, beat-to-hell red Strat, which was so beat that I decided to scrape the finish off with an old Dunlop capo – remember the ones that had the little teeth on them? I got B.B King, Buddy Guy, Albert Collins, Danny Gatton, and all of my heroes to sign it.”

    Acoustics in Bonamassa’s collection include a 1969 Martin D-28 (“It has been on the last four records, and it records well”), and a first-year (’62) Martin 0-16NY (“It’s a steel-string guitar, but it was kind of a reissue”). There’s also a 1936 Gibson L-Century.

    Then there’s his 1931 National Triolian, scored in Indianapolis several years ago.

    1964 Fender Stratocaster

    1964 Fender Stratocaster.

    1922 Gibson mandocello

    1922 Gibson mandocello.

    1950 Gibson ES-5

    1950 Gibson ES-5.

    1959 Gibson ES-1403/4 T

    1959 Gibson ES-1403/4 T

    “The shop was a Dobro and National dealer,” he recounted. “They had a whole rack of them, and I saw this 70-year-old National guitar mixed in with all of the new ones. I think it was priced around $1,100, and the new ones started at around $2,300. I’d never heard of an original one going for less than the new ones, and I walked out with it for $975. The neck’s in perfect condition, and it sounds great. It’s on ‘Tamp ‘Em Up Solid’ on You & Me.”

    Bonamassa also has a 1922 Gibson mandocello (“It’s got an interesting tuning, and I play it a lot around the house”) and a clean 1926 or ’27 Gibson A-4 mandolin.

    The guitarist bought a Hoyer acoustic at a guitar show, partly because of its unique looks, but said, “It sounds so much like Django Reinhardt; really snappy. The pickguard is about a half-inch thick! It’s just interesting and cool, and is one of my favorite archtops.”

    Archtop jazz-type electrics in the Bonamassa collection include a 1961 Guild X-350, a blond mid-’50s Gretsch Country Club, a 1950 Gibson ES-5, a ’74 ES-175, and a ’59 ES-1403/4T.

    “I call the Guild a poor man’s Switchmaster,” he noted. “It sounds better than my ES-5. The ES-1403/4T is an interesting little guitar; I found it in Indiana in what I thought was a brown Les Paul case, but you can’t fit a Les Paul in there – believe me, I tried. I bought the 175 because of Steve Howe; I wanted to play ‘Starship Trooper’ properly! The DeArmond pickups on the Gretsch are very clear-sounding; they don’t rock like the Filter’Trons on the Brian Setzer-type guitars, but they have a very interesting sound, and it’s an awesome rhythm guitar.”

    There are also a number of Gibson solidbodies in the Bonamassa stable, including a ’63 SG Junior, a ’65 white SG Special, a ’61 SG/Les Paul with a sideways vibrato, a ’58 Les Paul goldtop, and an early ’80s reissue Flying V. He has a dozen Historic Les Pauls, primarily for road work.

    Mid-'30s Gibson L-Century

    Mid-’30s Gibson L-Century.

    1963 Gibson SG Junior

    1963 Gibson SG Junior.

    1961 Gibson SG/Les Paul

    1961 Gibson SG/Les Paul.

    1958 Gibson Les Paul

    1958 Gibson Les Paul.

    1962 Gibson ES-335

    1962 Gibson ES-335.

    “I had an SG week a while back,” Bonamassa chuckled. “The Junior has a big baseball-bat neck on it, and it’s a killer guitar. I bought it in Kansas City, and two days later I bought a white SG Special. Like everybody else, I don’t use the vibrato on the SG/Les Paul, but tuned up, that guitar sounds really good.”

    His Gibson thinline semi-solids include a ’59 ES-345 in sunburst, a ’62 Cherry Red ES-335 with a Maestro vibrato, and a ’64 ES-335 in sunburst with a stop tailpiece.

    “It’s got its tags,” Bonamassa said of the ES-345, “And a patriotic sticker that somebody put on it during the Vietnam War… and it ain’t comin’ off. I like the red 335 better; I took the vibrato and Custom Made plaque off of it for a while and put a stud tailpiece on, but I returned it to stock (configuration).”

    Joe’s collection of Fender solidbodies includes, interestingly, a mid-’60s Musicmaster and Mustang that are completely stock.

    “I like those because they haven’t been stripped,” he said. “I hate to see guitars that have been looted or have all kinds of replacement parts on ’em.”

    He also has upper-tier vintage Fenders, as well, including a ’61 “slab-board” Esquire he says sounds like a Les Paul Junior with a P-90. He also has a ’70 Telecaster, which is heard on the opening of “Tea For One” (“I used the Tele just for the opening, and a Les Paul for the rest of the song”). Stratocasters include a sunburst ’63 with clay-dot fret markers, and a sunburst ’64, which he says is “the loudest Strat I’ve ever owned; it’s a killer slide guitar.”

    There are also oddball pieces in his collection, including a ’57 Fender double-neck steel, and an Airline.
    “I’ve learned how to play (steel guitar) a little bit, but it’s really frustrating,” he noted. “Those Airlines were worth nothing up until Jack White from the White Stripes started playing one; it’s a cool guitar.”

    Bonamassa's tweed Fender amps, with a '57 Fender steel.

    Bonamassa’s tweed Fender amps, with a ’57 Fender steel.

    '60s Fender Vibro-Champ amp

    ’60s Fender Vibro-Champ amp.

    '60s Fender Princeton Reverb amp

    ’60s Fender Princeton Reverb amp.

    Of course, Bonamassa has some classic amplifiers, noting that he acquired what he deemed a “fetish” for narrow-panel Fender tweed amps. His lineup includes a 1960 Champ, ’59 Tremolux, ’57 Princeton, ’58 Princeton, ’59 Harvard, and a ’59 Vibrolux. The Tremolux is his favorite.

    He describes his blackface Fender Vibro-Champ and Princeton Reverb amps as “…my Layla rig. Tom Dowd said (Eric) Clapton used those two models to do the Layla album – he [connected] one to the other, turned the volume all the way up, treble all the way up, and the bass all the way down; that’s the ‘Layla’ tone.”

    Looking ahead, Bonamassa clarified rumors that his next album would be acoustic.

    “We’ve started an album and we have tracks in the can,” he said. “But You & Me is still doing well on the Billboard blues chart; it debuted at number one, and it’s been a year. Even though I have five previous solo records, a lot of people were introduced to me through You & Me, so for the next album, we decided to take what we’ve accomplished with that album and do something better and more refined.”

    Bonamassa may have just hit the “big 3-0,” but he has already had an admirable career as a guitar slinger, and he has a bright future. And while he doesn’t claim to be a role model, in the vintage guitar/guitar player game, his youth and accomplishments set a positive standard.


    This article originally appeared in VG‘s August 2007 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • Enrico Granafei – In Search of the Third Dimension

    On this truly phenomenal record, Granafei rolls through 10 cuts, most familiar, with just his voice, a nylon-string guitar, and a chromatic harmonica.

    There is no over-dubbing on this record, and Granafei’s performance is truly incredible. On the opener “Out of Nowhere,” his guitar work is harmonically sophisticated and swings hard, with wonderful walking bass moving the song along as his harmonica provides the solo. Cuts range from Jobim (“Wave” and “Meditation”) to Milt Jackson (“Bag’s Groove”), the latter is a perfect example of why this works well beyond any “gimmick” level. The bluesy swing is driven by a guitarist who knows his instrument inside and out.

    On “Wave,” Granafei builds excitement with the six-string in a way few would think possible in this kind of music. He proves to be a master of the harmonica, too, bringing to mind the likes of Toots Thielemans. The playing is jazzy and alive.

    While it would be easy to dismiss this record as some sort of novelty, doing so will have you missing out on great music.

    This article originally appeared in VG‘s Aug. ’08 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Gibson L-10

    Gibson L-10

    Photo: Kelsey Vaughn. Instrument courtesy George Gruhn

    Gibson did not put the L-10 on a price list until 1931, but according to the serial number on this example, the company was working on the model as much as six years earlier.

    Among Gibson’s high-end archtops, the L-10 has been overshadowed by the more famous and revered L-5 (with its Lloyd Loar pedigree) and the less expensive and consequently more popular L-7. However, this example is noteworthy not only on its own merits but also as the first step toward expanding the L-5 into a full line of Gibson archtops in the ’30s.

    This guitar’s serial number, 81807, dates it to 1925, although it may not have left the factory that early. Regardless of the exact date, it was made in a period when archtop guitars were low on Gibson’s list of priorities. After enjoying great success as a leading force in the mandolin movement, Gibson fell on hard times when the tenor banjo became the preferred rhythm instrument for the new jazz music of the ’20s.

    In 1922, Gibson acoustic engineer Lloyd Loar tried to rekindle the mandolin market by providing an improved instrument. Although the project failed to revive mandolin sales, it did produce some legendary instruments, including the L-5 guitar, Gibson’s first model with F-holes. Through the mid ’20s, while Gibson was forced to develop competitive banjo designs, popular music became more sophisticated and more varied, and the banjo began losing ground to the more versatile guitar. Gibson saw the trend as early as 1926 and responded with a pair of very inexpensive flat-tops. The existence of this L-10 suggests that the company was thinking of expanding the archtop line, as well.

    This guitar is unlike any other known L-10 in that it is essentially an L-5 with a different finish and a less fancy peghead. In construction as well as in sound, there is nothing about it that is in any way less than the quality of an L-5. Among its L-5 features are a point at the end of the fingerboard (like the lower part of a heart) and three-ply binding on the body and neck – features that later L-10s did not have. The fingerboard inlays are pearl dots, starting at the third fret. The inlays on the original L-5 started at the fifth fret; the third-fret dot was added in 1927 or 1928, which suggests that this L-10 was not actually completed until that time.

    What was Gibson intending to do with this guitar? If it was simply fated to be a black L-5, there was no need for a new model name. Gibson’s models had always been defined by ornamentation, so there was no reason to name a black L-5 anything other than L-5B or something similar. Gibson had painted itself into a corner with model nomenclature – L-4 and L-3 were already in use, and this new black model belonged between the L-4 and L-5. The price-related system would not come into use until 1934 with the Super 400. The choice of 10 for a style that this slightly less fancy than a 5 seems arbitrary and confusing, but that’s the number on the label of this instrument.

    One sign of Gibson’s recognition of the guitar market came in 1928 with the publication of Catalog Q. For the first time, guitars were pictured before mandolins. As shown in that catalog, Gibson had latched onto the growing guitar market with new and evolving flat-top models, including a signature model from popular crooner Nick Lucas, but the company was proceeding with much greater caution in the archtop line. The L-5 was still Gibson’s sole F-hole archtop. Up-and-coming artist Perry Bechtel was pictured with a decidedly old-fashioned, scroll-body Style O Artist (a model Gibson didn’t even offer anymore) and Eddy Lang, who was emerging as the most influential guitar soloist of the late ’20s, was shown with an oval-hole L-4. Apparently, the jury was still out on F-holes.

    There are other L-10s with serial numbers from 1929 and ’30, so Gibson was testing the waters by that time, but the company might have sat on the L-10 for several more years had it not been for Epiphone. A leader in the banjo market of the ’20s, the New York-based company introduced not one, but seven f-hole archtop models in June of ’31. To add insult to injury, Epiphone called the new line Masterbilt, a term that played on Gibson’s Master Model designation.

    Epiphone’s Masterbilt models ended any indecision at Gibson about the viability of F-hole archtops, and the L-10 officially joined the L-5 on Gibson’s price list by the end of ’31. The one shown in Catalog U (from ’32) was significantly different from example shown here. The black finish remained, but the fingerboard and top had single-ply binding, and the end of the fingerboard was squared off. The dot inlays remained, too, but by this time the L-5 had been upgraded to pearl block inlays.

    Gibson’s intent for the model was finally clear; the L-10 was to be a less-expensive alternative to the L-5, and it was priced accordingly at $175 (without case). It was an expensive guitar compared to a flat-top Martin – Martin’s most expensive model, the OM-45, had just been reduced from $180 to $170 – but it was still a full $100 cheaper than the L-5 and only $25 more than the L-4.

    As early as 1930, Gibson had a model with sunburst finish in development to be priced between the L-5 and L-10. The L-12 officially joined the line in ’32. No doubt in response to the fancier ornamentation on the Epiphone Masterbilts, the L-12 introduced a fingerboard inlay style featuring rectangular rosewood inserts inlaid with fancy pearl figures, and the L-10 also adopted the new look. Yet another 16″ archtop, the L-7, appeared in 1932, featuring a varied-pattern fingerboard inlay but without the rectangular rosewood inserts.

    In an effort to one-up Epiphone, Gibson advanced the body width of all its 16″ archtops to 17″ in 1934, the same year the company introduced its “over-the-top” 18″ Super 400 model. With the increase in size, the L-10 received a complete makeover. The top bracing was changed to an X pattern, the fingerboard inlay changed to a new double-triangle (sometimes called double-bullet) pattern, the top binding was upgraded to a checkered pattern, and the black finish was replaced by a sunburst top with a red mahogany stain on the back and sides.

    Four Gibson 17″ archtops proved to be overkill, even in the growing market spurred by the big bands of the ’30s. The L-10 was the first casualty, disappearing in 1939, while the other three models lasted well into the post-World War II era.



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

  • Mark Erelli – Delivered

    Fearing negative comparison, some singer/songwriters shy away from covering other writer’s material. Some, boring people by the dozens in coffeehouses across the country, feel it’s everyone else who comes up short. Mark Erelli falls into neither category. He’s musician (acoustic, electric, and resonator guitars, harmonica) and singer enough to handle someone else’s best, and writer enough to come up with the excellent tunes that make up this, his sixth and possibly best album.

    Erelli, a folk singer with an alt-country/rocker’s sensibility, writes savvy, interesting, often touching songs that are candid without being whiny, getting his feelings across in a way that is imminently relatable. He’s equally effective addressing larger issues and non-personal themes. “Volunteers” (co-written with Peter Nelson), a song about the conflict in Iraq, is unmistakably supportive of the men and women fighting there and perceptively realistic about the war itself.

    Similar to John Hiatt in attitude if not style, the 33-year-old Erelli makes grown-up music with the verve and enthusiasm of an 18-year-old. The catchy, inspired hook of “Five Beer Moon” and the measured crescendo waltz of “Not Alone” will remind even the pickiest listeners that music can be smart and relevant and moving without sacrificing rhythm and joy. By the time Erelli gets to the simple darkly magnificent title song it’s been long confirmed that Delivered and Mark Erelli have something to say and a unique, poetic, compelling way of saying it.

    This article originally appeared in VG‘s Nov. ’08 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.