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features | Vintage Guitar® magazine - Part 152

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  • Fretprints: Tony Rice

    Fretprints: Tony Rice

    Tony Rice: Jason Moore/Zuma Press.

    The world lost one of its most innovative and defining guitar voices on December 25, 2020. Bluegrass maestro Tony Rice – singer, composer, supremely accomplished sideman, solo artist, and flatpicking virtuoso – personified the evolution of an American folk form and its cross-pollination with jazz, classical, and pop tangents. With Rice’s imaginative vision and prodigious technique, bluegrass became “newgrass” – an art form. He was the avatar of a new generation of guitar players and caused a paradigm shift in the music tantamount to Wes Montgomery’s efforts in jazz and Jimi Hendrix’s expansion of the rock world.

    Bluegrass epitomized American roots music of the 1930s and ’40s. Spawned in Appalachia, it’s an acoustic medium with distinctive three/four-part vocal harmony that boasted performers like Earl Scruggs, Lester Flatt, the Stanley Brothers, and progenitor Bill Monroe. Monroe called it “old time mountain hillbilly music,” yet his Blue Grass Boys provided the emblematic name for the genre. The characteristic ensemble was a string band – violin, banjo, mandolin, upright bass, and rhythm guitar, sometimes augmented with resonator guitar, harmonica, or Jew’s harp. Their idiomatic repertoire consisted of Anglo-American jigs, ballads, and reels informed by blues, folk and ragtime jazz, often carried by a fiddle lead instrument – a mix which grew and flourished in regional rural dances. Bluegrass became a marketing term and widened listeners’ experience with advances in audio recording and was bolstered by the post-war country-and-Western boom; 1948 marked the beginning of its golden age with songs from Monroe and the Stanley Brothers making a national impact on radio. However, bluegrass largely attracted a niche audience until the folk wave of the early ’60s brought it to a burgeoning youth market. It was in that milieu that Tony Rice came of age and planted the roots of his style.

    “Mule Skinner Blues” boasts one of the greatest guitar breaks in bluegrass. This driving, flat-picked flight corroborates that opinion. The trademark rhythmic intensity and powerful execution are apparent from the first phrase, as are other telling aspects of Rice’s style in microcosm, such as skillful transitions from open strings to fretted notes. His emblematic use of approach tones, here notably the A#-B in measures 3-5 and 11-12 over G and the D#-E over C in 8-9, is ubiquitous in his repertoire. Similar purposeful decorations, often embellished with similar slides along with pull-offs and hammer-ons, are found in countless Rice solos and fills played over a G shape, whether capoed or in nut position, as in this example. Also noteworthy are his blue notes; the minor-seventh tone imparting a dominant-seventh color to G and C chords, flatted fifth; Db in 3-4, and the minor third in 4 over G and in 10 over C. The minor-ninth leap in 10 (C-Db) employs a borrowed blue note to produce an attractive tension over C (C7b9), alluding to TR’s jazz inclinations.

    David Anthony Rice was born in Danville, Virginia, on June 8, 1951. He was raised in Los Angeles and exposed to bluegrass music at an early age through his father, Herb, an amateur guitarist/mandolinist. The sounds of Monroe, Flatt & Scruggs, Louvin Brothers, and Reno & Smiley filled his ears, and by age four he was teaching himself the requisite guitar chords and runs of the style, albeit with some “wrong fingerings,” many of which he continued to use throughout his lifetime. He was almost 10 when he formed his first band, a bluegrass quartet with his brother and neighbors. Though his focus put him at odds with schoolmates obsessed with rock and the British Invasion, it aligned him with future bluegrass innovator Clarence White, seven years his senior. The two had become friends in ’59 and shared common interests. White’s group, the Country Boys (later the Kentucky Colonels), were, by TR’s reckoning, the first bluegrass band in Southern California, and appeared weekly on Herb Rice’s local radio show. White presaged an expansion of the bluegrass genre and is widely acknowledged as the first picker to make the acoustic guitar a lead instrument in bluegrass, forging the progression from traditional to modern bluegrass.

    In the mid ’60s, White’s versatility led him to become a sought-after L.A. studio player on electric and acoustic guitar, and by ’68 he was a full-time member of the Byrds in their country-rock period, showcased by Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde. With Gene Parsons, he was also co-inventor of the famed B-bender installed subsequently on enumerable Telecasters. White was the primary role model and mentor to Rice, who succinctly put it, “When I heard Clarence I knew that was what I wanted to learn.” Taking a cue from White, in the late ’60s he pursued an inclusive approach that blended traditional bluegrass with jazz influences via Dave Brubeck, John Coltrane, Django Reinhardt, Wes Montgomery, and George Benson as well as rock inspiration from Hendrix.

    This phrase from “Wildwood Flower” conveys the chordal side of Rice’s playing. Capoed at the 4th position, it finds him working out of the C shape to render the piece in E. A very traditional flatpicked bluegrass approach is employed throughout in arpeggiating and attacking chord partials, and the chords are sustained to maximum duration to produce a flowing legato impression depictive of its Appalachian ancestry. Rice uses a full-fingered C/G form for E/B in measures 5 and 15 to strengthen this effect and typically employs his thumb to fret the low A in 9. Note the myriad hammer-on and pull-off ornaments in the phrase. His patented cross picking (two down strokes and one up stroke) is heard in 7-8 to achieve banjo-roll figurations through the E-G7-C#m chord changes.

    In 1970, Rice moved to Louisville, Kentucky, to join the Bluegrass Alliance. However, the narrow circumscribed format of traditional bluegrass wouldn’t confine an artist of his range. With his great facility and imagination, the teenager soon found himself in one of the first progressive bluegrass groups, J.D. Crowe’s New South. This iconoclastic unit added drums and amplification to the acoustic string-band format, and featured like-minded “newgrass” exponents like Jerry Douglas (resonator guitar) and Ricky Skaggs (fiddle/mandolin). During this period, Rice met another kindred spirit in mandolinist David Grisman, and in ’75 made a quantum leap into the future when he joined the David Grisman Quintet. Their uncommon hybrid sound blended bluegrass, Gypsy jazz, classical, Old World Mediterranean string-band and fusion. Their repertoire was documented on The David Grisman Quintet (’77) debut and Hot Dawg (’78), with Grisman and Rice compositions as well as a reinterpretation of Django’s “Minor Swing.” Concurrently, Rice began to study theory, read chord charts, and learn jazz improvisation with John Carlini in order to up his already formidable game.

    In ’78, Rice left Grisman’s band to pursue a solo career. The labels “new acoustic music” and “newgrass” were attached to him in an attempt to categorize the diverse post-modern nature of his output in the Tony Rice Unit, eponymous albums, and the Bluegrass Album Band; Acoustics purveyed a bluegrass-jazz-folk amalgam, exemplified by Rice originals and Wes Montgomery’s “Four on Six,” while the breakthrough recording Manzanita emphasized bluegrass and folk pieces, and Mar West contained Miles Davis’ “Nardis.” These set the tone for future multifaceted TR Unit albums, enlivened by the participation of Grisman, Douglas, Skaggs, Sam Bush, Richard Greene, and Mike Marshall. In the ’80s and ’90s, Rice released solo albums distinguished by outings like Tony Rice, Church Street Blues, Cold on the Shoulder, Me & My Guitar, and Crossings, and programmatic records such as Sings and Plays Bluegrass and Sings Gordon Lightfoot. By contrast, Rice’s supergroup Bluegrass Album Band, founded in ’81 with Crowe, expounded on traditional and modern bluegrass tenets developed in New South and released six volumes of standards from ’81 to ’96. The aggregation revisited the music’s core repertoire established by Monroe, Stanley, Flatt & Scruggs, Doyle Lawson, and Reno & Smiley, and sprinkled in suitable pieces from Chris Hillman, Gram Parsons, and Jim Croce. Rice also stayed active in stellar collaborations with Skaggs, Grisman, Jerry Garcia, Norman Blake, Béla Fleck, Mark Johnson, Peter Rowan, Vassar Clements, and John Carlini. He assembled an “anti-supergroup” with brother Larry, Hillman, and banjoist Herb Pedersen, which recorded three albums between ’97 and ’01. As a session player, Rice performed on recordings from Emmylou Harris, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Bill Keith, Jon Sholle, Eric Thompson, Darol Auger, Alison Brown, Bryan Sutton, and many others.

    When asked what he practiced to maintain his skills, Rice replied with a reference to the challenging final phrase in “Opus 57” (David Grisman Quartet), adding it is “one of the hardest licks I know.” Indeed, even a cursory glance reveals it has technical commonalities with the neoclassical shred of Malmsteen, et al. Note the atypical minor modality of the melody as well as its sequential patterns reminiscent of classical music and references to diminished chords. He capos at the fifth position to play the passage in a D minor shape transposed to G minor, which is the only obvious connection with bluegrass. The descending syncopated chromatic line in 8-9 suggests an altered D7 chord and is characteristic of both TR in his jazz pursuits and the post-modern “Dawg music” sounds cultivated by Grisman.

    STYLE
    Rice is a master of traditional, modern, and post-modern bluegrass. A propulsive rhythm guitarist, he provided the fundamental “boom-chick” broken-chord backing patterns and connective bass runs of the style, but is best known for his virtuosic flatpicked lead lines. Traditionally, bluegrass guitar was a rhythm instrument assigned with few exceptions to an accompanying role. Rice changed that perception while seeing a course for post-modern expressions. A descendant of the Doc Watson/Norman Blake/Clarence White lineage, he flaunted a diverse lead style made bolder with rapid and articulate single-note licks, runs, and riffs. His priorities were “tone, timing and articulation,” evident in technical phrases delivered at any tempo, giving rise to progressiveness displayed by Bryan Sutton. In the strict bluegrass, setting Rice frequently operated in the customary open G-major shape and used a capo to change keys. Telling examples include “Red Haired Boy” (A, capo at second fret) and “Your Love is Like a Flower” and “Old Train” (Bb, capo 3rd). On other occasions he preferred capoing an open C-major shape, as in “Home From the Forest” and “Wildwood Flower” (E, capo 4th). In “Little Sadie” he capoed at the second fret to perform Dm chords and lines in E minor. By contrast, he preferred the standard position for “Wild Horse” and “Jerusalem Ridge.” With Grisman’s post-modern group, he deliberately played in various keys without a capo. TR occasionally used Dropped D tuning and hybrid picking to play ballads like “Shenandoah.”

    True to the bluegrass form, TR favored chord-based diatonic runs and melodies suggesting a fiddle-tune quality in their rhythms, contours and content. In improvisations he often added color tones to his melodies, such as chromatic passing tones, blue notes like the flatted third, fifth and seventh, and neighbor notes as decorations, particularly to approach the major third of a tonic chord from a half step below (A# to B over a G major chord). These were subjected to greater jazz inflections and more-sophisticated harmonic allusions in the intro of “Shenandoah” and pieces like “Devlin” and “Nardis,” which found him employing modal and extended melodies, atypical pentatonic licks, evocative half-step string bends and quick scalar sequences. Rice generally employed alternate picking for single-note melodies, though he deviated for certain musical effects. Case in point is his specific pattern of two downstrokes and one upstroke across three high strings for what he called “cross-picked banjo-style rolls,” heard in the arpeggiations and voice-leading of chords in “Wildwood Flower.”

    ESSENTIAL LISTENING
    Acoustics, Manzanita, Cold on the Shoulder, and Acoustic Allstars Live ’88 are prime examples of Rice’s magic in the studio and onstage. His playing in David Grisman’s quintet, Tony Rice Unit and the Bluegrass Album Band are also highly recommended.

    ESSENTIAL VIEWING
    There is a wealth of Rice performances online. Among must-see moments are “Church Street Blues,” “Nine Pound Hammer” (New South, ’75), “Bluegrass Breakdown,” “Shenandoah” (from the 2000 Grey Fox Festival with closeups of his flat/hybrid picking technique), “Blue Railroad Train” with the TR Unit, “Limehouse Blues” with Chet Atkins, Mark O’Connor, Grisman, Douglas, and Fleck, and several illuminating clips from his instructional videos.

    SOUND
    Rice was a committed acoustic guitarist and never owned an electric guitar. He was accorded the family Martin D-18 when he was eight years old and was satisfied with it until he heard the D-28 played by Clarence White; Rice purchased the guitar after White’s untimely death in ’73, paying $600, and it became his mainstay for five decades. One of only 11 made in 1934, the first year of 14-fret D-28s, it bears Martin’s distinctive white herringbone binding, and was modified (before White’s ownership) with a 21-fret fretboard and enlarged soundhole. Rice had the neck re-set, fretboard bound, and re-fret by Randy Wood. He also learned the original owner was Paul Westmoreland, who wrote the bluegrass/country classic “Detour.” In Crowe’s New South, Rice amplified the Martin with a Barcus-Berry pickup. He also played Ovation guitars in the ’70s, heard prominently on Manzanita. Santa Cruz has marketed a Tony Rice signature model since the ’80s. It uses aged Sitka spruce and Indian rosewood. Not a copy of his D-28, it was designed in collaboration to reflect his desire for a dreadnought with more-defined low end but the requisite boom for rhythm work, and a more-articulate and balanced mid-treble range for solo lines. Dana Bourgeois created a tribute model in 2014, with enlarged soundhole and deliberate sonic details. It was intended to be auctioned for the ailing Rice, who was unable to perform live.

    Rice preferred Thomas Vinci brass-wound medium-gauge strings and fashioned his own flat picks from three-sided tortoiseshell pieces by filing them to shape and size. He felt tortoiseshell provided the best density in relation to thinness for his attack and comfort, as conventional plastic types would have to be 1/4″ thick or greater to produce a comparable sound.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Sovtek MIG-50

    Sovtek MIG-50

    Photos by Lloyd Nicely.
    The MIG-50’s control array echoes the Bassman-meets-Marshall layout. Cyrillic script beneath the inputs says, “Made in Russia, Saratov.”
    1994 Sovtek MIG-50
    • Preamp tubes: three 12AX7
    • Output tubes: two 5881
    • Rectifier: solid-state
    • Controls: Volume/II, Treble, Middle, Bass, Presence
    • Output: approximately 50 watts RMS

    Given their development in the twilight years of the U.S.S.R. and arrival at the fall of the Iron Curtain, it was a gutsy move to name an amp after a notorious Soviet fighter jet. Then again, Mike Matthews has always been a gutsy guy, and if his no-nonsense Sovtek tube heads evoked a certain Red Army ethos, so much the better.

    It’s still difficult to believe that a combination of labor-organization efforts and shortages of IC chips could drive America’s biggest effects manufacturer out of business, but in 1984 that’s exactly what happened to Electro-Harmonix.

    Matthews, who founded E-H in 1968, barely took time to lick his wounds before seeking new opportunities behind the iron curtain, of all places, establishing an ambitiously mixed bag of ventures in the Soviet Union.

    “I was the first American allowed to visit some Russian all-military cities, and the first foreigner to sign direct contracts with Russian tube factories,” Matthews said in a 2004 interview for Guitar Effects Pedals: The Practical Handbook. “All of this used to be only through the electronics ministry in the central government. So I started getting tubes from Russia, and my new girlfriend, Irusha, who was Russian and lived in St. Petersburg, ran my Russian business.”

    The MIG-50’s hand-penned serial number; the script is Russian for “head.”

    Matthews established the aptly-named Sovtek brand in 1988, and his ever-deepening connections in the world of “Soviet” electronics production would eventually help revive the Electro-Harmonix effects line. But because he got his feet on the ground via the country’s thriving vacuum-tube industry, a tube amp was a natural – and the resultant creation was a doozy.

    The Soviet Union was officially dissolved in late December of ’91, and by December 26, Matthews was dealing with a country that was again called Russia. Released in 1991, Sovtek’s MIG-50 was the company’s first offering. Designed by New York ampmeister Tony Bruno and manufactured in Russian military factories, it used an abundance of military-grade components. Intended as a 50-watter using a pair of 5881 output tubes (similar to the 6L6GC), Matthews said the first run of MIG-50s was given an under-spec’d 30-watt output transformer that reduced overall power. The results were surprisingly toneful, however, inducing easier compression and earlier distortion, so early exports were re-branded MIG-30 and sent onward to Western markets.

    By ’93, the factory was installing proper 50-watt OTs, so the specs had settled into place by the time our featured amp was manufactured in late ’93/early ’94. Otherwise, the design is very much akin to the ubiquitous Fender 5F6A tweed Bassman circuit, which became the Marshall JTM45 circuit, then evolved (with a few changes) into the “plexi” circuit, then… ended up in a disproportionately large number of all guitar amps ever manufactured.

    The MIG-50’s circuit board is a rugged creation, and all tube sockets are chassis-mounted for improved durability and heat dissipation.

    For years the cornerstone of Sovtek’s lineup, the MIG-50 was taken further from the tweed Bassman with solid-state rectification in place of a tube, and three 12AX7s in the preamp and phase inverter positions – all original-issue Sovtek tubes, naturally. True to the Bassman/JTM45/plexi designs, however, is the lack of a Master Volume control, with just a single main Volume knob for each of its two channels, shared Treble, Middle, and Bass controls, and Presence.

    With all of the above in mind, to say that anyone “designed” the amp – Tony Bruno or otherwise – is a stretch, given the circuit’s ubiquity. But there’s always some configuring and tweaking of layout to be done, so we won’t suggest no credit is due. Even so, given the Soviet-era military components and other quirks and variables, fans of the MIG-50 feel it has a sound all its own. “A cross between Bassman and plexi” might be the easy description, but aficionados know even that doesn’t fully capture it.

    Lloyd Nicely, who (with partner Sarah Rose Jones) runs Mom and Dad’s Music, Clarksville, Tennessee, has handled several early Sovtek heads over the years.

    The stark back panel sports the power socket, speaker outputs for various loads, and the legend indicating where it’s made – in English.

    “MIG-50s tend to have a big Bassman sound, but with a bit more harmonic low-end,” he said. “It’s an interesting take on a legendary circuit, and it sounds massive – perfectly suitable for rock, rhythm, blues, and doom!”

    While examples from the early/mid ’90s once surfaced on the used market for a few hundred bucks, Nicely notes they’re now much harder to find. When they do turn up, they fetch pretty big money, often pushing $1,500 and beyond – a decent rate of appreciation for an amp listed in the ’95 Sovtek NAMM catalog at $189 (likely dealer price). The MIG-50 was soon accompanied by the smaller Tube Midget (50 watts, with two 5881s), MIG-60 (more plexi-like, with Master Volume), MIG-100, and high-gain MIG-100H.

    By ’94, Sovtek was using the proper 50-watt output transformer (far left), a stout and definitively Russian-military beast.

    Inside, the circuit is constructed on a printed circuit board (PCB), which is decently rugged and neatly laid-out. Input jacks and potentiometers are mounted directly to the board with through-hole connections, which presents one of the design’s weak points, maintenance-wise. Also, the Russian pots aren’t the highest quality. That being said, most Sovteks of the era haven’t needed any more upkeep than similarly low-priced or mid-market PCB amps, and many have remained roadworthy for two and a half decades. Thoughtful touches like chassis-mounted tube sockets – connected to the board via flying leads – likely aided the effort, and mark a step up from many lower-priced tube amps.

    Otherwise, in addition to simply being a stoutly rocking gig machine, the MIG-50 represents a nifty slice of latter-day Cold War history, and perhaps a thawing of East-West relations. As far as we know, there are no military secrets printed in the chassis, and rather than being some enigmatic instruction on how to use the amp, the Cyrillic legend beneath the inputs simply says, “Made in Russia, Saratov,” giving credit to the city that hosts the Sovtek factory.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Six-String Basses from the 1950s and ’60s

    Six-String Basses from the 1950s and ’60s

    The Mysterious “Spiegel Bass” variation, from 1958.

    Electric bass, bass guitar, baritone guitar; four, five, or six strings – many varieties of low-tuned instruments are available today. In the 1950s, however, choices were fewer. Bassists played upright or a four-string “Fender bass.” Occasionally, a guitarist would tune down to hit low notes.

    The Fender Precision, which first appeared in ’51, set the pattern for the new electric bass – a Spanish-guitar-shaped instrument tuned as a four-string bass. Kay and Gibson responded in the early ’60s, theirs having a shorter (30″) scale and (in the case of the Kay) a semi-hollow body. These were all intended to accommodate traditional bassists and guitarists (with frets and a guitar-like playing position), yet function as the upright had (but amplified).

    In 1956, an instrument appeared that bridged this gap – the Danelectro six-string electric bass, created by Nathan Daniel, who challenged that thinking with a true “bass guitar” – a six-string instrument tuned like the guitar-but an octave lower. With a much brighter, twangier tone, the Danelectro put low notes up front, and while it never displaced the four-string bass, it did carve a niche for itself.

    Danelectro introduced its first bass instrument, the Model UB-2, in 1956. It looked just like their recently developed electric guitars, but with a 291/2″ scale and heavier strings to sound an octave down. It used the same flat-topped/single cutaway semi-solid Masonite and pine body as the U2 guitar, with two pickups/one switch/concentric controls rig. In a 1983 interview, Daniel said he felt he had given bass players “two extra strings for free” and thought the instrument was a natural for bassists and guitarists. While he may have initially thought it could rival Fender’s Precision, what he really created was a specialty instrument, more appealing to guitarists. The UB-2 shipped with light-gauge “Polished” roundwound strings (rather like today’s “half-rounds”), which offered a much softer feel and thinner, twangier sound than the Fender, which at the time had heavy flat-wound strings muted by a foam pad under the bridge cover.

    1956: Danelectro launches the UB-2.

    The UB-2 was offered at $135 in three finishes – the familiar bronze or black lacquer with white vinyl sides, and the rare “grained ivory leatherette” covering (an option that disappeared almost immediately). It shipped in a coffin-shaped case covered in tweed fabric. Its catalog introduction was full of enthusiasm; “This instrument makes a perfect bass… playing of melody, chords and riffs can be accomplished as on regular guitar…(it) is terrific for rhythm and melody, and simply cannot be beat for combining both.”

    Further, it’s compared to the (unnamed) Fender; “…six strings, having much greater range; double pickup instead of single, three-way switch, softer action.” The pitch goes on, “If you are a professional guitarist… this instrument means more demand for your services… play guitar and double on bass with one instrument.”

    Daniel’s bass did not eclipse Leo Fender’s – or the still-popular bass fiddle – but was a hit in recording studios, especially down Nashville way. There, session players developed a style of playing it with a palm-muted pick, dubbed “tic-tac” bass. Used to double and reinforce upright bass and give punch to the track, within a short time, the sound became standard. Well before the Fender Bass was accepted on country records, the Danelectro was the hot new sound. Still, few listeners had any idea what they were hearing, so it did little to spur sales beyond the relatively small world of professional session guitarists.

    The UB-2 almost never appeared with an artist in print or on TV, but many twanged away unseen in the late ’50s and ’60s.

    The UB received more exposure through Sears, Roebuck & Co. under its Silvertone brand. It was the first (and for a time, only) electric bass they carried. The Silvertone Model 1373L was offered only in black and priced at $109.98. “Play bass or guitar,” suggested the catalog, “…tunes like a guitar, only one octave lower.” If the price seemed high, it could be had for $11 down and $9 monthly (after all, it was $20 more than even the three-pickup guitar from the same line)! Actually, the two-pickup guitar built with most of the same components listed at only $59.98. Sears may have figured this specialty instrument wouldn’t sell in quantity, so it set a higher price. The bass did include the hard case and the special “polished” string set (which cost $3.98 all by itself). This package was offered for less than two years before Sears switched to a four-string bass from Dano – the familiar “dolphin-nose” model 1444.

    Whatever the intention, the 1373 today seems as prevalent as its Danelectro-branded sibling, and likely was not considered a big success by the Chicago retailer. There also exists an extremely rare unbranded variant in bronze finish with a pointier headstock, one batch of which was reportedly built for Sears’ catalog competitor, Spiegel, in late 1958.

    The Shorthorn VI – 1959 and ’62.

    The single-cutaway UB model lasted only a couple of years, but established a market for a six-string/30″-scale bass guitar. After ’58, Danelectro reworked the concept and offered both four- and six-string basses made from interchangeable parts, the only difference being the tuning pegs and bridge, which were (conveniently) also guitar components. This economy-of-scale trick made production of limited-market instruments much more economical – a trick many competitors missed. The Longhorn and Shorthorn bass designs that debuted in 1958/’59 replaced the UB-2 in the Dano line, but never fully in player acceptance. Well into the ’60s, many sessioners preferred the original single-cutaway UB design, which can be seen in studios years after the company phased them out.

    The Model 4623 Longhorn six-string bass sold at $150 from 1958 until ’68, though few if any were built after the early ’60s. It had two pickups (controlled by an eccentric system involving flipper controls and pre-set tone caps) and a 24-fret neck. Early Longhorns had both pickups mounted by the neck; by 1960, the second was moved closer to the bridge. The Model 3612 Shorthorn six-string listed at just $85. “Economies effected by using our standard guitar parts brings the price of this bass way, way down,” explained the catalog. With a stumpy-looking 15-fret neck on a longer, mostly hollow copper-colored body with a single pickup, the Shorthorn was less-versatile but very handy. The Shorthorn four-string Model 3412 sold extremely well.

    The final SG-styled EB-6. The Hagstrom Coronado/Futurama. Höfner’s 1965 solid sixes.

    The six-string bass is comparatively rare, but was cataloged through 1966. The only major alteration the model underwent was the change to a larger pickguard with top-mounted controls in ’61. It’s a pity that Danelectro never offered a doubleneck guitar/six-string bass combination – the lower half of the familiar shorthorn double Dano came only with four strings, though some users made the easy (and perhaps more useful) modification to six-string. Sales of all Dano six-string basses waned in the ’60s, but it had a final design gasp as the Coral Wasp 2B6 in ’67, a sleek two-pickup solidbody with a Fenderesque shape offered at $154. Not long after, Danelectro was purchased by MCA, which closed it down, ending the original line.

    Danelectro’s novel UB-2 inspired several competitors, the earliest being Gibson’s EB-6 (VG, May ’14). Gibson was in close contact with Nashville studio players – company reps were quick to note the “tic-tac” fad. In response to the affordable Danelectro, Gibson offered a lavish, expensive instrument.

    First shipped in 1960, the EB-6 was a spin-off of the semi-hollow ES-335 and EB-2. With the same thin double-cut body, it landed between them feature-wise, but above both in cost, at $325 – the priciest electric bass in 1960. It was not illustrated in the 1961 or ’62 catalogs, but availability was noted in a small box. While lovely to play, compared to the tone of the Danelectro, it was somewhat hamstrung by having only one pickup (though it was a PAF humbucker!) in the neck position. Only 77 were sold before the design was re-cast as a solidbody. Beginning ’62, the SG-styled EB-6 was initially fitted with a single PAF but soon upgraded to two, losing a pushbutton baritone switch in the process. It also changed from guitar tuners to big Kluson bass pegs, making the headstock heavier and giving the guitar a less-balanced playing feel. The final version was pictured in the ’63 catalog, complete with the mute and handrest common to all SG-styled basses. The price remained the same – raised to $370 by September of ’64. By June, 1965, it was no longer on the price lists. From 1962 to ’65, only 66 were recorded as shipped, a final two stragglers leaving in ’67.

    A spin-off of the EB-6 was the Epiphone Newport EBS-6, built on the double-cutaway Epi solidbody. This was first listed in July ’62 at $245, never pictured, and gone by the September ’63 price list. With all of 21 officially shipped between 1962 and ’65, the EBS-6 is one of the rarest Kalamazoo-made instruments.

    Fender’s VI, introduced – and improved!

    The next entry in the big twang stakes came from California. Leo Fender was aware of (and possibly annoyed by) the success of Danelectro’s starkly utilitarian instruments, and sought to raise the bar dramatically. Fender sales called his new creation a bass, but the headstock decal read “Fender VI – Electric Bass Guitar,” and it felt more like a big guitar than any Fender bass. It was announced in summer ’61 and in production by that fall. Overall, it was well-conceived, offering a range of sounds and features that combined ideas from preceding Fenders. The body looked like an extended Jazzmaster, with the same floating vibrato. The three pickups most resembled Stratocaster units, but with chromed-metal surrounds. One odd design choice was a narrow 11/2″/A-width neck (same as the Jazz Bass) which made the fingering very crowded near the nut. Priced as a luxury rather than a novelty, at $329.50, the Fender VI was very expensive – especially compared to the established Danelectros.

    ’61 Bass VI in Fiesta Red.

    Fender sales promotion was predictably enthusiastic. “Every musician will readily recognize the potential of the new Fender six-string Bass Guitar, inasmuch as it offers an entirely ‘new sound’ to every playing group.” The VI evolved in 1963 more in line with its new little brother the Jaguar; the pickups were changed to match the guitar’s, a fourth “strangle” switch (to filter lows) added to the control panel, and the lever-action Fender mute under the bridge. In 1965/’66, it gained a bound, block-marker fingerboard, but was built in ever smaller numbers.

    The Fender VI became popular with studio players, but not so much with otherwise Fender-happy instrumental bands. Perhaps to show off to dealers, Fender sales apparently ordered a larger than average proportion of flashy custom-color examples. At the very least, the Bass VI made for an ultra-flashy showpiece, the epitome of the company’s California hot-rod aesthetic. Over the years, it has proved the most enduring of the ’60s “Big Twangers,” originally listed through 1974 and reissued several times since.

    The six-string bass idea did not inspire most other American makers. Gretsch, Guild, Valco, Magnatone, Harmony, and others likely saw a filled niche and stayed away. The budget-conscious Kay took the cheapest approach, offering its Value Leader bass – already just a four-string guitar-scale model – as the K5962 six-string bass. This was priced at $79.95 – $10 above the nearly identical Model K1961 guitar – presumably the cost of the heavier strings! Rickenbacker took the opposite tack and made a few experimental high-end models; the hollowbody 4005/4006 was offered as a catalog option (at a whopping $509.50 in ’66) and built in numbers so small as to hardly qualify as a production item.

    The Fender VI turned heads in England, where Danelectros were all but unknown before ’65. In June of ’64, Beat Instrumental rhapsodized, “The very latest model is known as the Fender Bass VI… a six-string guitar which can be used either as an ordinary bass or as a solo instrument. It… gives out a beautiful deep-throated growl. A great asset to any group, it costs 185 pounds.”

    The first U.K. response had already come from Burns as the Split Sound Bass, in ’62. This was a three-pickup guitar-scale (241/2″) model that pushed the limits of low string tension! The Split Sound Bass appears nearly identical to the Split Sonic guitar, complete with three pickups and vibrato – the only differences were an open-cradle bridge to accommodate the heavy strings, a bound fingerboard, and a pinned-on “Split Sound Bass” logo on the headstock that sometimes went missing, leaving the owner having no indication it’s actually a bass guitar. It’s also worth noting the Burns Double Six 12-string was originally intended to be tuned as an “octave-under” instrument, with bass strings – the first 12-string bass! This fell by the wayside almost immediately, becoming a standard 12-string guitar.

    Hangtags from a Fender VI.

    Oddly, the Bass VI concept was practically ignored by the usually creative JMI/Vox team. They built a one-off Phantom six-string bass for Peter Jay And The Jaywalkers, but theirs was the only known example. Some continental companies did catch the bug; Höfner offered a solidbody six-string bass (the model 188) in the early/mid ’60s and built at least a few 500/5 big-bodied archtop six-strings in 1960/’61. The 188 was simply an overgrown model 175 guitar, with a 30″ scale neck, the same three pickups, vibrato, and an optional vinyl-covered body. While Höfner appears to have never cataloged a violin-body six-string bass, Italian competitor Eko’s model 995 Violin bass had a rare six-string variation built in small numbers, at least. In Sweden, Hagstrom offered the solidbody Coronado VI bass, also sold under the Futurama name by Selmer in the U.K. This had six-pole versions of the celebrated Hagstrom Bi-Sonic bass pickups, but no vibrato; it’s extremely rare, but a most impressive beast!

    Even as far away as Japan, the big twang made an impact, when Teisco offered a relatively good six-string bass – the TB-64, based on the “monkey grip” solidbody guitar. This was no doubt inspired by the Fender VI, as it mounted three pickups and a vibrato. In the ’60s, instrumental rock was huge in the Far East, and indeed popular all over the world; there were no lyrics to get in the way! Six-string basses were well-adapted to this style, in particular, but have been heard far more in many different musical contexts. Next month, we’ll explore sounds and players from the “Big Twang!”


    This article originally appeared in VG August 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • Selwyn Birchwood

    Selwyn Birchwood

    Selwyn Birchwood

    Selwyn Birchwood’s third album for Chicago-based Alligator Records represents new creative frontiers for the 36-year-old Florida native. The robust use of keyboards and baritone sax makes it his most sonically expansive effort to date, and that sound isn’t just expansive – it’s thick.

    The instrumental wall, fortunately, doesn’t detract from Birchwood’s omnipresent guitar work and baritone vocals on an album, where the six-string and horns peacefully co-exist. Birchwood’s blistering single-note runs punctuate the opening “I’d Climb Mountains,” and he gets lap-steel dirty on the unapologetic roadhouse rocker “I Got Drunk, Laid and Stoned.” The title track, meanwhile, emits a reggae vibe, again finding guitars and horns intertwined.

    The prevailing sense of musical community that underpins Living In a Burning House by no means implies restraint. The artist unleashes furious volleys of notes on the driving “You Can’t Steal My Shine,” and “Revelation” features some of the most intensity-laden playing on the entire album. Another highlight is “Freaks Come Out at Night,” which, if not a John Lee Hooker tribute, contains enough boogie to make him smile.

    Birchwood, clearly a bluesman on the rise, has already traveled a long artistic journey – and his prime is likely still up the road.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Epiphone’s Wilshire and Coronet

    Epiphone’s Wilshire and Coronet

    Price: $449 (Wilshire) and $399 (Coronet)
    www.epiphone.com

    Some elemental solidbodies were born to rock – the SG, Telecaster, and Les Paul Special and Junior come to mind. Born in the late ’50s, Epiphone’s Coronet and Wilshire were part of that back-to-basics gang, keeping things simple while delivering pure rock-and-roll thrills.

    Epiphone’s new Wilshire is a reissue sporting two P-90 PROs, while its cousin, the Coronet, has one dog-ear and a wraparound bridge/tailpiece. Both are double-cuts with mahogany bodies, set mahogany necks, and 22-fret laurel fretboards with 12″ radius and 243/4″ scale. Hardware includes the classic butterfly pickguard, CTS pots, and, on the Wilshire, a LockTone tune-o-matic bridge.

    In hand, the Wilshire’s medium-C neck is comfy and quick. The bridge pickup is suitably rockin’, but the neck unit adds a fatter dimension, even for chunky rhythms a la Townshend or Malcolm Young. The Wilshire is a blast even if the knob array feels a bit cramped. The one-pickup Coronet is slightly lighter; if one-pickup Juniors are your jam, it will appeal.

    With retro features and a headstock that speaks to the Epiphone legacy (check the “bikini” badge), the Wilshire and Coronet sound the siren call for rockers and slide players. Sixty-plus years since their introduction, Epi has admirably revived two classics.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Pop ’N Hiss: Vanilla Fudge’s Near The Beginning

    Pop ’N Hiss: Vanilla Fudge’s Near The Beginning

    Rock fans recall the New York quartet Vanilla Fudge for its dramatic reworkings of pop hits; the band melded classical influences with solid musicianship in the first steps toward the offshoot now known as “progressive rock.”

    The original Fudge lineup of Mark Stein (organ), Vince Martell (guitar), Tim Bogert (bass), and Carmine Appice (drums) recorded five albums in the latter ’60s, each of which influenced Deep Purple, Yes, Uriah Heep, and other acts.

    “We were pioneers navigating uncharted waters,” Martell recently told Vintage Guitar. “Bombastic drums locked with a solid bass that ventured onto jazz-like tangents created a solid foundation for the guitar to layer trippy, melodic riffs and phrases to complement the Hammond chords and lines.”

    Early in their career, the band was helped in the studio by renowned producer Shadow Morton.

    Vanilla Fudge image courtesy of Vince Martell.

    “The first three albums were basically our arrangements, which Shadow refined with us,” said Martell. “He was the visionary who tamed our wilder tendencies and channeled them into a powerful, united musical body.”

    Each Fudge album had a degree of cohesiveness; the 1967 debut was entirely covers, including a version of the Supremes’ “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” that peaked at #6 on Billboard. The Beat Goes On was a concept album about world history and included an ambitious medley of Beethoven’s “Für Elise” and “Moonlight Sonata.” Renaissance concentrated on original material, and Near The Beginning had two covers, one original, and a side-long tune on which every member was given a solo. The latter was self-produced.

    “It’s fair to say Near The Beginning is a microcosm of the Vanilla Fudge,” Martell said. “We were evolving as people and musicians. We were more experienced in studio production and performing live. We knew what we wanted the project to be.

    “LSD and hash also played a role in how we played, thought, and wrote,” he added. “We would deconstruct tunes like ‘Some Velvet Morning’ and ‘Shotgun,’ piece them back together, and bring the monsters to life.”

    The opener, a raucous cover of Junior Walker and the All-Stars’ “Shotgun,” is a one-chord stomp that demonstrated the Fudge could rock without artsy embellishment, and offers a definitive example of the band’s choir-like vocal harmonies. It also showcased Martell’s wah.

    “‘Shotgun’ was a wahfest – and wah first – for me on a record,” the guitarist recounted. “I’d used wah live several times. After touring with Hendrix and listening to his wah, I thought it would sound cool on the Junior Walker cover.”

    On the other hand, “Some Velvet Morning” epitomized the Fudge approach. A hit for Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood, it was re-tooled with a mysterious intro that explodes into roaring power chords. Lurching to an abrupt stop, the mood then shifts dramatically to ethereal vocals (including harmonies once again), though the power chords return between verses.

    The lone original, “Where Is Happiness,” earns the “psychedelic” tag thanks in part to reverb-drenched single-note bends from Martell.

    “The eerie intro is like walking through a haunted house; you don’t know what lurks at every turn,” he said. “We wanted it to take unexpected directions like the frenzied pace into my trippy solo with dreamy, exotic, East Indian psychedelic sounds.”

    The side-long “Break Song” was recorded live in late ’68, at the Shrine Auditorium, in Los Angeles. It, too, emphasized the band’s hard-rock capabilities.

    Though Martell favored Gibson ES-335s at the time, he used a sunburst L-5CES on the live track, and described controlling feedback from a hollowbody as “…all part of the fun.”

    His solo on “Break Song” is anchored by a blues riff, and Stein dabbles in the same genre, while Appice’s drum solo is relentless. Bogert’s bass solo stands as one for the ages with string bends and muted jazz picking on his Fender Precision with a Telecaster Bass neck. When his Mosrite fuzzbox kicks in, the turn becomes a firestorm of distortion.

    “Tim’s fuzz was groundbreaking for bassists,” Martell averred. “It was a guitar gizmo, and to hear a bass dressed in distortion was innovative and cool.”

    On February 2, 1969, Vanilla Fudge performed “Shotgun” on “The Ed Sullivan Show” as a preview to Near The Beginning, which was released later that month. Martell played a sunburst 335.

    “That was the guitar on which I felt most comfortable,” he said. “It brought a rich, fat tone and coloration to the music. The semi-hollow design, coupled with a loud amp, was capable of producing unpredictable sustain.”

    Vanilla Fudge recorded one more album after Near The Beginning before disbanding. Many cite the band’s first album as its most-vital work due to its genre-busting style, but Near The Beginning stands an unintentional anthology of late-’60s musical innovation.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Roine Stolt

    Roine Stolt

    Roine Stolt: Tobias Andersson.

    If you want to see a hard-working guitar ace, look no further than Roine Stolt, who has been going non-stop for more than 25 years. The Swedish axeman is currently busy with two major prog bands, both of which have released albums in 2021; the Flower Kings launched Islands while Transatlantic offered The Absolute Universe in two versions. Does Stolt ever sleep?

     

    You’ve been working ceaselessly. Describe a typical day for you.
    Once I get the breakfast things out of the way, I go to work tracking guitar, mixing, or writing new material. I’m lucky to have my studio in the same building as my house, so I try to blend music with a normal family life.

    I love my job, and I take nothing for granted. Over the last 25 years, I’ve been part of almost 100 releases with the Flower Kings, Transatlantic, the Sea Within, Kaipa, the Tangent, and Agents Of Mercy, plus my work with Jon Anderson and Steve Hackett.

    The Flower Kings is your creative baby, but Transatlantic has three songwriters in three countries. How do you collaborate when writing long-distance?
    This time, I probably put in the most work making demos, so I went into rehearsals with almost an hour and a half of music. Some of it landed on the new record, and whatever didn’t, I presented to the Flower Kings for Islands. The material was pretty much standard; we’d pick bits and pieces, and built them up from there. Besides that, we were recording in a top-of-the-line studio, Fenix Studios, in Sweden, with a big SSL desk and the finest converters available. There, we could play together to find an organic feel and get the tempos right. It always comes together in the end – but in all honesty, it’s sometimes a bit of chaos and battle of egos (laughs).

    How do the Flower Kings’ Jonas Reingold and Transatlantic’s Pete Trewavas differ as bassists?
    I’d say Pete has a more melodic sensibility than Jonas and plays more notes. Jonas, meanwhile, does a fair bit of fretless and has a jazzier style, which he does really well. Both have a very strong sense of rhythm and are among the very best players in prog today – definitely on par with greats like Chris Squire and Mike Rutherford in their prime.

    “Take Now My Soul” has a fusiony solo that speaks to Allan Holdsworth – not your usual bluesy style.
    Thanks. I don’t plan anything; all of my guitar leads on The Absolute Universe were 100 percent spontaneous. I just play whatever feels right. That one might have been a nod to Allan, who I first saw live in 1973 with the band Tempest. It was almost edited out, but Mike [Portnoy, drummer] and Pete said it had to stay in there – I’m glad they insisted. It’s my personal favorite solo on the Transatlantic album. I ran through it three times and then got lucky – the tones were just singing. The choice of notes of phrase were mine, with a touch of Swedish folk, far different from any modern shred scales or metal licks. I probably borrowed them from 1800s Swedish folk music for violin.

    “The Darkness in the Light” has a particularly sweet tones. Which amp or overdrive pedal did you use for the solo?
    That was a Mesa Transatlantic set in the Vox position, with a Keeley Aria overdrive pedal. The Orange 2×12 cab was miked with a Neumann TLM 103 through a Millennia HV-3D preamp, and it went straight into the DAW.

    Why do you play a mid-priced Telecaster Thinline when you could have a Custom Shop model?
    I could have a Custom Shop, but reality is when I bought the Mexi Tele almost 20 years ago, it was just so good. It had a stunning resonance – perfect pieces of tonewood – so I didn’t care where it was made. It was just the guitar. Now it has a new True Temperament fretboard, acoustic pickup, and locking tuners that make it my weapon of choice for live and studio work. Of course, I still have my ’53 Les Paul, an ES-175, a Custom Shop Stratocaster, a Parker, and Jet custom.

    Is there anything specific about your playing that is innately Swedish?
    That is not for me to say, but I guess there might be some elements of Swedish folk music creepin’ in. The rest is most likely just down to our regular European heritage. We live in Sweden, digesting this country and its cultural expressions – its mood, its colors. These days, I may not feel exclusively Swedish anymore because I collaborate mostly with musicians from other countries, but in the end, my history is here. My musical roots come from Swedish folklore.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Tagore Grey

    Tagore Grey

    Tagore Grey: Sam Gale.

    If you’ve been starving for good old-fashioned hard rock, the Treatment has your number. The British band has been building its reputation for more than a decade, delivering in-yer-face guitar riffs and solos that echo Def Leppard and AC/DC. Their latest, Waiting for Good Luck, features guitarists Tagore Grey and his brother, Tao.

    We asked Tagore to break down the Treatment’s relentless riffage.

    You’ve come up with a million great riffs. What’s your secret?
    The most important thing for a great riff is that it hits hard and is something the listener can easily remember. Some of rock’s greatest riffs are the simplest – the Stones, AC/DC, and Deep Purple are good examples – but writing something simple is harder than you think!

    One key aspect is you don’t overplay.
    Leaving space for the chords to ring is very important to us. Some bands like to use a lot of chords and breakdowns in their songs, but we prefer a simpler approach. We’re not fast, technical players; we are a band that likes to groove. Nothing sounds better than big chords ringing out at high volume on a big stage.

    What, do you think, makes a great solo?
    I have always preferred guitar solos with melody – something you can easily hum or whistle. Brian May is an expert at this. Songs like “Killer Queen” or “Bohemian Rhapsody” have such catchy melodies that they’re almost a vocal part. I’m not a big fan of the shredders; I’m far more rooted in the Angus Young and Paul Kossoff school of guitar playing.

    Who are your main influences?
    Angus is the reason I picked up the guitar, and has been a massive influence on me; I also like Billy Gibbons and Billy Duffy of the Cult. They all have really great feel, but in all honestly, my style comes from my manager, Laurie Mansworth, who played in two cult British bands – More and Airrace. We’ve been playing guitar together since I joined the Treatment at 15. Laurie is a very experienced guitar player and has toured with AC/DC, Queen, and Foreigner. He has spent a lot of time jamming with me over the years and helped me develop.

    How do you divide up guitar parts with your brother?
    It varies from song to song; I’m older, so he gets the parts I don’t want to play (laughs). Usually, we play different variations of the same chords, but sometimes playing unison parts sounds just as good. Regarding solos, I do the majority, but Tao is fast on my heels at the moment. I could be overthrown (laughs)!

    Which guitars, amps, and pedals did you use in the studio?
    I’m a big fan of early-’70s Master Volume Marshalls and JTM 45s. There’s something about a Marshall you just can’t beat; they’ve got a rawness and tone that cuts through everything. I use four 4×12 cabs with a mix of Celestion Greenback and Vintage 30 speakers. I use a Blue Note boost pedal for solos, and that’s about it.

    My favorite guitar at the moment is my three-pickup black Les Paul Custom. I also have an R8 I really love, but next on my list is a Gretsch Brian Setzer.

    Do you use the same rig in concert?
    I use the exact same rig onstage. There’s no real trick to our sound – massive guitars live, and there’s nothing like a Marshall through a big PA.

    What does Kevin Shirley, who has worked with Black Crowes, Rush, Aerosmith, and Iron Maiden, do to a mix that brings that patented hard-rock sound?
    Kevin knew exactly how to mix our music. Laurie our manager, who produces the band, also worked us mercilessly in pre-production for four months. He gets credit for the fact we were well-rehearsed and the songs sounded great before they left the studio. Kevin gave it the final polish and put the cherry on the cake! It was a great team effort.

    The Treatment has opened for Kiss, Thin Lizzy, and Mötley Crüe. How do you win an audience in a brief amount of time?
    We’re well-rehearsed and work on the song order until we feel the set is running right. Getting the pace of the set is really important because you don’t want any dull spots. Once we’re rehearsed, we go out and try our best to deliver a high-energy show. It’s really important to connect with the audience from the very first note. We also try to meet as many people as possible after the show – that’s always a great bonding process.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Orianthi

    Orianthi

    Orianthi: Patrick Rivera.

    On Orianthi’s latest album, O, the fierce guitar slinger injects mass quantities of blues-rock fury into a contemporary pop-music setting. While this may seem like textbook marketing to enter the mainstream, in reality it’s one of the pitfalls of being a music lover and an eclectic.

    Orianthi is a Santana disciple who has worked with diverse artists like Alice Cooper and Michael Jackson. For her, music is not about labels.

    Your guitar sits in a variety of contexts. Are you searching for your lane?
    I’m inspired by different genres of music. I grew up listening to a lot of blues albums and a lot of country music. My mother loved pop. I loved Jimi Hendrix, and she was into Tom Jones, Michael Bolton, and Motown. Growing up, it wasn’t about, “What’s a good genre?” It was, “What’s a good song?” What makes you feel something? When I make a record, I’m going with a feeling. It doesn’t matter if it’s prog, rock, or blues. My mind is open, my heart is open, and I’ve always been that way. I’m a huge fan of music. I’ve worked with Alice Cooper, Steve Vai, Dave Stewart, Carrie Underwood, and Michael Jackson. They’re all different. Every record I make is like a painting. They’re all going to be different, and I want them to be different.

    There were some negative comments regarding your new Gibson signature SJ-200. How did that affect you?
    Some people get weird. I’m just trying to bring people together. That’s the magic of music. It had just come out and people on social media were arguing about my guitar playing. “She’s not a good guitarist!” “She’s not a blues player!” “She’s not a rock player!” I got all kinds of insults, hate messages, and all this weird s**t.

    I’ve experienced weird comments before. You expect that as an artist because you’re putting yourself out there, but this was beyond. The journey is not easy for any artist. I’m just doing my best. You don’t have to like what I do, but it threw me a bit. As artists, we’re all pretty sensitive people. I tried to shut it out, but I have to tell you, it was a most bizarre situation.

    I’ve received a lot of love, too. I want to inspire more kids to play the guitar and help create instruments that people don’t want to put down. Working with Gibson and PRS is a real honor, and I’m very lucky. I’ll also be working with Orange amps. I don’t take any of it for granted. I feel very blessed, but it’s a strange world we live in (laughs).

    What’s different about your signature SJ-200?
    The people at Gibson created something really special. It’s like having my favorite electric-guitar neck on an acoustic body. The way the pickups are balanced, and the overall sound allows me to play fast. It’s a comfortable and cool-looking guitar. The pickups have a little more midrange, so it’s great for solos and has a full-bodied sound. A lot of acoustics can sound thin when you crank them up, but this one has a real rounded sound and definitely cuts through. With the LR Baggs pickups, you can really experiment. The whole guitar is well-balanced, but very different from your normal J-200.

    It looks huge on you.
    I played one at the studio in Montana. Someone said, “Isn’t that a little big?” And I was like, “Yeah, but Elvis played one (laughs)!

    Anything new with you and PRS?
    We’re packaging some black Custom 24s with lessons. I’ve been told I’m a terrible teacher (laughs); I just want to interact with people and have fun. When I first picked up the guitar when I was six years old, it brought me such joy. It wasn’t easy when I was young, and I got picked on a lot. I had to block it out and continue on.

    It made you want to do good things.
    I want to encourage people to pick up the guitar and write songs, even if it’s just a hobby. I don’t understand the whole negative thing because I’ve never been that way. We all have s**t we have to deal with for whatever path we choose in life. I want to promote peace and unity and coming together; that’s what my job is as an artist. Whatever you put out in the universe comes right back at you. We’re all going through a tough time, and it’s putting everyone in a tough position. Taking care of each other and promoting positivity is the thing that will help humanity.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Les Sabler

    Les Sabler

    Les Sabler: Rick Malkin.

    Like many musicians, guitarist Les Sabler’s life has been turned topsy-turvy by the worldwide pandemic.

    Originally from Montreal, Sabler now resides in Nashville, but work on his newest album, a smooth-jazz effort called Tranquility, began in February of 2020 at producer Paul Brown’s studio in Los Angeles. The project ultimately became remote, but not before Sabler became inspired by Brown’s Gibson Johnny Smith archtop.

    “My primary guitar for decades has been my ’68 ES-335, and I brought a custom-built dual-humbucker guitar made by Charles Whitfill,” the guitarist said. “But when we first sat in the studio, Paul handed me his beautiful ’63 Johnny Smith, which felt very comfortable and had a distinctive sound that was a good fit for ‘Keep Pushin.’

    “When I returned to Nashville, I started looking around to purchase one and was very fortunate to obtain the ’67 I’m now thrilled to own. It has the same headstock as a Super 400, but a 17″ body like an L-5, with notable differences like the cross bracing, a floating mini-humbucker, and a slightly shallower body based on Smith’s ’55 D’Angelico.”

    Sabler wrote or co-wrote all the tunes on Tranquility except for a cover of George Benson’s “Sunrise,” and collaborated with New Orleans guitarist Shane Theriot (VG, August ’15) on half of the album.

    “Paul sent a couple of Shane’s demos to me, and I really connected with them, which led to Shane co-writing and playing on five songs,” Sabler recalled. “He’s an excellent player and composer, and this was the first time we worked together. Shane, Paul, and myself really worked well together, and Shane’s melodic and harmonic concepts really resonated with me. Shane used a variety of instruments, including a ’59 ES-330, a ’52 Martin 00-17, a ’52 J-45, a Supro lap steel, and several others.”

    Guitarist Jeff Carruthers co-wrote and played on “Easy Moves.”

    “Jeff used a sweet-sounding ’63 Strat on the funky rhythm groove, with wah,” said Sabler.

    Horns were arranged by Lee Thornburg and Tim Akers; “Three Dee” involved note-for-note riffing by Sabler and saxophonist Greg Vail, and is all the more impressive since they weren’t in a room together.

    “Greg has an incredible ear and he learned, played along with, and complemented my phrasing on the song with precision and style, without having a chart. It’s so important to maintain a sense of band unity in the song when remote recording is necessary!”

    Sabler’s smooth octave licks didn’t involve any electronic devices.

    “Certainly, there is a significant influence from Wes Montgomery and George Benson,” he detailed. “But I try to present my own personality in the performance. It’s all thumb and fingers, and no effects were used to create the octaves; in fact, the majority of my playing on the Johnny Smith was without a pick. I did use a V-Pick on the nylon-string guitars.”

    He used a José Ramirez guitar for “Esselle’s Dance” and an Alvarez on “Where Has She Gone”; Sabler’s affection for nylon-string acoustics carries over from his tribute album to Brazilian guitarist Antonio Carlos Jobim.

    “The Ramirez has a cutaway and pickup that I don’t use, and sounds very smooth when mic’ed in the studio,” he said. “I recorded ‘Where Has She Gone’ at Paul’s, on his Alvarez that Marc Antoine and Peter White have recorded with, and it sounds great!”

    Some might wonder about Benson’s “Sunrise,” an implicitly-introductory title, being the final track.

    “To me, the ending has an aura of drifting away, perhaps into a virtual sunset as the album closes. That’s a tribute to George and Chet Atkins, and it’s nice to have that Nashville connection in the mix.”

    Sabler is working with Brown on his next album and looks forward to once again presenting his music in live performance.


    This article originally appeared in VG’s June 2021 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.