Tag: features

  • Last ’Burst?

    Last ’Burst?

    Photos courtesy of Bruce Sandler. Last ’Burst exhibits the flame and bookmatch that attracts collectors – and atmospheric prices.

    Certain instruments are nearly as famous as the heroes who play them – we know them as Blackie, Lucille, Greeny, Number One. And don’t forget E.C.’s colorful Crash Strats. But not all guitars cool enough to get names are played in front of the teeming masses.

    Last ’Burst on the back cover and inside The a ’Burst 1958, ’59, ’60 by Jay Scott and Vic DaPra.

    Amongst the community of collectors who dwell in the domain of the sunburst ’50s Gibson Les Paul Standard – a.k.a. the ’Burst – names have for decades been assigned as certain guitars were passed from one collector to the next. One of them bears a name not usually associated with desirability, but nonetheless makes it special.

    Amongst the community of collectors who dwell in the domain of the sunburst ’50s Gibson Les Paul Standard – a.k.a. the ’Burst – names have long been assigned as certain guitars were passed from one collector to the next. One of them bears a moniker not usually associated with desirability, but nonetheless makes it special.

    Owned by instrument dealer Bruce Sandler, one known as the “Last ’Burst” in many ways embodies the things that make the original sunburst Les Paul the most valuable mass-produced guitar to ever leave a factory spray booth. In other ways, though, it’s an anomaly.

    Familiar to the ’Burst community for 30 years, the guitar stands out because its serial number – 011495 –  is from late in the final year Gibson produced the original single-cut Les Paul. It also nicely book-ends the ’Burst featured in the September ’16 issue of Vintage Guitar and believed to be the earliest.

    Far more interesting, though, is how the number intersects with the then-new double-cut “SG style” Les Paul designed by Gibson in an effort to cure the model’s perpetually lagging sales (see George Gruhn’s feature on page 42 of this issue); though an exact quantity is not known, there are many SG Les Pauls with lower serial numbers than this single-cut, and Gibson’s shipping ledgers showed more than 300 units between it and the previous single-cut (with serial number 011167).

    “She sounds and plays great, of course, but as Jay Scott and Vic DaPra pointed out in their book, The Gibson ’Burst, 1958, ’59, ’60, ‘It’s the wood that makes it good,’” said Sandler. “Or, as my old friend Stan Jay might have cleverly put it, ‘Imagine some of the most-diseased maple ever to grace the loading dock of Kalamazoo’s finest.’”

    Sandler is referring to the guitar’s figured-maple top, a product of several factors that create a hologram-like appearance when viewed from changing angles. One of the most commonly applied terms is “flame” because the figure seems to move like the hues of orange and brown flickering in a campfire. The depth of flame and degree of “bookmatch” of a ’Burst’s top can push the value of one significantly above others. On the Last ’Burst, the flame is strong.

    “Its medullary grain is striking, too, enhancing the flame’s depth and iridescence,” Sandler said. “From most angles, you see continuous waves of tight flame. But what sets the guitar apart from most 1960 ’Bursts is its unusually translucent finish and deep, rich color. Some 1960 ’Bursts are noticeably opaque – with an orangey-red tomato-soup look to them.”

    Collectors sometimes call that soupy finish “clown burst,” but the deep red and orange on Sandler’s is gorgeously translucent.

    The list of other qualities that determine any electric guitar’s collectibility – resonance, playability, the way it sounds through an amp, playability, and originality of its finish, parts, and hardware – are all magnified on a ’Burst. Any chips or breaks in the neck, headstock, or body, along with swapped parts or modifications – details apt to draw a groan from a collector/dealer in regard to most vintage instruments – bring a wince when done to a ’Burst.

    Another factor that can push value is celebrity ownership. Sandler doesn’t know of any high-profile owners in the lineage of this one, but it does trace through a succession of “’Burst fanatics.”

    “I believe the first collector to get it was Marc Quinton, on the West Coast, who sold it to Vic DaPra, who in turn sold it to Gil Southworth,” he said. “I got it at the Dallas Guitar Show in the early ’90s, where Gil had it in his booth on setup day. At that point, I had seen, played, and owned a lot of ’Bursts and was as obsessed as anyone – well, almost anyone – when it came to flame and color. I picked up the guitar and looked it over, and over… and over! It was one of the most beautiful and striking I’d ever seen. I wound up trading a couple dozen guitars for it – Gibsons, Fenders, Rickenbackers, Gretsches, etc. They were all great, but not like this. I just had to have it.”

    Because the guitar’s serial number runs so late into the model year, and because its finish has less orange tint, Sandler believes it was likely a special order.

    Beyond speculation, though, is how it delivers in terms of sound and play. Unplugged, he says its resonance is fantastic. Of course, to be truly great, an electric guitar has to deliver through an amp.

    “When I first got it, I was using mostly tweed Supers and blackface Deluxe Reverbs – two of my favorites – with the occasional Marshall in the mix. Between them, I got most of what I was looking for. But then I bought a Dumble and with the resonant frequencies of the Les Paul combined with the harmonically rich Overdrive Special overdriven even moderately… I could get nearly every note to sustain and split, harmonically, without even picking the string. I could have pretty much left my picking hand at home.”

    Sandler became enamored with vintage instruments in the early ’70s, beginning with a ’61 Les Paul SG Custom. In ’75, he bought a ’52 Tele, then a ’58 Strat, which redirected his interest to Fenders.

    “I was hooked,” he recalled. “So, I started dealing to support my habit, as they say, and by early ’79 I was doing it full-time. Most popular forms of music at the time were guitar-based and had been for years, so interest in older guitars was really starting to grow.”

    For five years he operated Guitar Exchange from his house, then in ’84 opened a retail shop just outside of Baltimore. As you’d expect, he has seen his share of fantastic examples – dot-neck Gibson ES-335s, herringbone Martin D-28s, D’Angelicos and Strombergs, custom-color Strats, Teles, and Jazz basses. And like anyone who’s been in the game so long, he has stories.

    “The first really rare electric I bought was a Flying V,” he said. “I was on the phone with [PRS Guitars founder] Paul Smith one day, and as we were about to hang up, he remembered an old Flying V someone had told him was a few hours away. Within minutes, I was in my car with $3,500 cash in my hand – in those days, enough to buy almost any guitar – on my way to Ocean City, not knowing what I’d find, or if I’d see any guitar at all.”

    But, Smith’s tip proved real.

    “I found myself face-to-face with an extremely clean ’58 V with black parts and an immaculate original case,” he said. “But they wouldn’t sell it!”

    Sandler left empty-handed and for the next year and a half, the owner shopped the V to every dealer in the region. Finally, he called Sandler, who made good on his offer to pay 10 percent above any other.

    There are other stories…

    “In ’81/’82, I had a ’58 goldtop with PAFs and a finish that was heavily checked and greened-out because it had been so heavily played – it was a beast,” he said. “I ended up using it as part of a deal to get a 1959 ’Burst played by a local guitarist named Jeff Adams, whose band had a big regional following. I pestered the hell out of him to sell it to me, and to close the deal I had to throw in a ’60s Strat, an early Marshall half-stack, and a few grand cash along with the ’58, which, by the way, sounded and played every bit as good as his ’Burst. In the end, though, Jeff was happy with the deal – and I was ecstatic.”

    While heavily played, Sandler said Adams’ ’59 was “Magic… alive and responsive with that luck-of-the-draw combination of wood and wire. And its top was nothing short of amazing – even in a room full of ’Bursts, it’s a killer.” Among fellow dealers, it became known as the “Sandler ’Burst,” and now goes by “Sandy.”

    Sandler sold the guitar to buy a house, and today expresses only a tinge of remorse.

    “Ya’ know… the idea of holding on to a bunch of ’Bursts was not viewed favorably by a lot of players or dealers, even then,” he said. “So, more often than not, we sold or traded them, and held on to the ones we loved to play. And there were always lots of great guitars making the rounds or coming out of the woodwork.”

    Sandy ’Burst courtesy of Tom Wittrock. The ’59 known as Sandy.

    Around the same time, he also possessed a ’59 now known as the Texas ’Burst, named in part because he scored it during the Dallas Guitar Show in March of 1981.

    “I flew to Dallas just to get the guitar,” he said. “It was listed in the local newspaper that weekend, when nearly every vintage dealer in the world was in town. Everyone at the show was jealous, especially the local dealers, who all knew about the guitar but weren’t aware it was in the paper. I believe it’s now back at home in Texas.”

    Today, Sandy belongs to Tom Wittrock, proprietor of Third Eye Music, Springfield, Missouri. He has been dealing vintage instruments since 1976 and is the host of a online forum dedicated to ’50s Les Pauls. In the late ’80s, he counted 22 of them among his inventory and has sold them to Slash (who got his first one via Third Eye), some that ended up with the late Gary Moore (who bought one formerly owned by Ronnie Montrose), and Joe Bonamassa. His collection currently includes the Sandy ’Burst and another, serial number 9 1923, known as “Donna.” Both are considered exemplary, including by the specialists in the Gibson Custom Shop, who used Sandy as the model for its Collector’s Choice series #4 model, while Donna was used for CC#5.

    Wittrock called Sandler’s Last ’Burst “a stunning beauty,” and says that until another surfaces with a later/higher number from 1960, Sandler’s deserves the name.

    “Given what we know at this time, it is likely the last,” said Wittrock. “It has long been assumed that serial numbers were applied in numerical order and, unfortunately, Gibson’s records on these guitars are not available to the public. Unless they are finally made public, that assumption will remain and I have no problem calling Bruce’s guitar the Last ’Burst.”


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Two Legendary Les Paul Deluxes

    Two Legendary Les Paul Deluxes

    In the late 1960s, Gibson reintroduced the single-cutaway Les Paul based on its classic ’50s model. But, a new version called the Deluxe proved the most popular Les Paul of its time.

    While the new Les Paul used the same mahogany body and carved maple cap as ’50s Standards and Customs, the Deluxe was made with a laminate body that collectors have come to know as “pancake” construction – a thin sheet of maple between two pieces of mahogany – with a carved-maple cap that was three pieces instead of the two-piece commonly used in the ’50s. Production versions of late-’60s Les Pauls were given mini-humbucking pickups borrowed from Epiphone, while its hardware, controls, and “crown” fretboard inlays were similar to a late-’50s Standard. At first offered only in a goldtop finish, other colors followed including two in the mid ’70s – Red Sparkle and Blue Sparkle – that are particularly collectible. Through the decades, the Deluxe has been discontinued and reintroduced, including limited editions.

    Bailey and Carlisi LP Deluxes: Willie G. Moseley. This ’69 Les Paul Deluxe, serial number 845552, was Barry Bailey’s primary guitar with the Atlanta Rhythm Section. (RIGHT) Jeff Carlisi’s go-to studio guitar with 38 Special was this ’69 Deluxe, serial number 894029.

    Barry Bailey’s well-worn ’69 Deluxe was his primary instrument onstage and in the studio with Atlanta Rhythm Section. He acquired it from bandmate J.R. Cobb, who’d bought it new in an Atlanta music store.

    “I wasn’t much of a gearhead then, and I’d never owned a Les Paul,” Cobb said. “But I played a bit on a goldtop that belonged to Joe South, and thought I might like to have one.”

    When Bailey first saw Cobb using the guitar at Studio One, ARS’ home base in Doraville, Georgia, he was drawn to it.

    “I’d been using my Tele in the studio along with a Les Paul Junior I used there and for live shows,” he recalled. “But the Junior [did not stay in tune], so I started borrowing the Deluxe from J.R., and it was like a magnet. So I bought it from him, and it was one of the better investments I ever made.”

    Cobb never regretted parting with it.

    “I was playing mostly rhythm along with some slide, looking for a sound that wasn’t real close to Barry’s,” he said. “I found that a Strat worked better for me. The goldtop was, and is, a great-sounding guitar; it just didn’t seem as versatile for what I was trying to do. And I still favor a Strat. I’m glad (the goldtop) ended up in the right hands.”

    B. Buie and J.R. Cobb, 1970: C. Rogers, courtesy of Rodney Mills. Bailey late ’70s: George Steidel, courtesy of Barry Bailey. (LEFT) Producer Buddy Buie and J.R. Cobb with his Deluxe at Studio One in 1970. (RIGHT) Bailey and his Deluxe onstage in the late ’70s. Note the “witch hat” knobs and Harley-Davidson sticker that adorned the top until it began to crumble.

    The guitar, nicknamed “Reb” by an ARS tech, deviates from the Deluxe norm in that is has a one-piece mahogany body – no “pancake” laminate. It does, however, have the three-piece maple cap; its seams have become more pronounced after nearly 50 years.

    The guitar has seen its share of modification, including replacement tuners, a Gibson TP-6 tailpiece, and it has gone through a few sets of control knobs. Bailey always liked the sound of its mini-humbuckers and, like most Les Paul players, favored the bridge pickup.

    “That was the setting for the most part, though I’d use the other pickup on ballads, like ‘Conversation,’” he said. “I liked the idea that it was available.” The wear around the bridge-pickup Volume knob offers proof.

    Bailey used the guitar on one of the band’s biggest hits, “So Into You.”

    “I played my Tele on the basic rhythm track, but all the lead overdubs were the Deluxe, including the instrumental passage after the first chorus. (Engineer) Rodney Mills, (drummer) Robert Nix, and I used eight tracks to accommodate all the harmony and octave parts I submitted. When Buddy Buie, the producer, listened to the finished playback, he thought it was all done electronically. We corrected him!”

    “Reb” is depicted on the artwork on two later ARS album covers, Red Tape (1976) and Truth in a Structured Form (’89).

    In the early ’70s, an architecture student named Jeff Carlisi was in the audience at Funochio’s, a renowned venue on Peachtree Street, when Bailey sat in with Lynyrd Skynyrd around the time that band was at Studio One recording songs for its 1973 debut album. Like Skynyrd, Carlisi was from Jacksonville, Florida, and played in bands there before moving to attend Georgia Tech.

    “Barry walked in one night when Skynyrd was playing,” Carlisi said. “I already knew about Atlanta bands like Eric Quincy Tate and the Hampton Grease Band, as well as local guys like Barry, but this was the first time I’d heard him play. It was just a one-four-five blues jam, but Barry played great.”

    Carlisi earned a degree but opted for a career in rock and roll as co-founder of 38 Special. That band made a lot of music at Studio One, and he recalled visiting the facility even before his band began recording.

    “One day I went and there was Barry and (engineer) Rodney Mills, working on guitar parts,” he said. “I watched from the control room as they threw ideas back and forth; Rodney was actually producing Barry instead of just engineering. And Rodney was later the producer for 38 Special.

    Jeff Carlisi in Studio One courtesy of J. Carlisi. Bailey and Stone: by Terry Spackman. (LEFT) Bailey and the Deluxe onstage in the late ’90s with fellow ARS guitarist Steve Stone (RIGHT), and Carlisi, circa 1980, with his Deluxe at Studio One. “It looks as though this was taken at about 3 a.m. and I was very tired,” he said.

    “I didn’t stay long, but I really got a grasp on the discipline Barry had as a player, and how he played for the song. So that was an important educational event for me, and it’s fair to say his playing mentored me by osmosis.”

    Carlisi later acquired his own Les Paul Deluxe, also a ’69.

    “I got it at a pawn shop in the Buckhead area of Atlanta,” he said. “Three hundred bucks. That was about four years into 38 Special and it was first used on the third album, Rockin’ Into The Night, which was the first we recorded at Studio One.”

    Carlisi was aware Bailey had a Deluxe, but that didn’t influence the purchase.

    “It just had the tone I was looking for,” he said. “It wasn’t a matter of ‘I’ve got have one of those.’”

    The body of Carlisi’s is the pancake laminate, and it’s unmodified except the strap-locks he added and replacement tuners that were on it when he bought it. Overall, it’s quite clean. “I never took it on the road because I had a Rhyne Explorer copy for my concert guitar,” he said.

    Among the passages Carlisi recalled recording with the Deluxe were the solos for “Rockin’ Into The Night” and “Hold On Loosely,” as well as rhythm and leads for “Fantasy Girl,” “Caught Up In You,” and later hits like “Rough Housin.’”

    “It was my go-to in the studio,” he said.

    Asked about a favorite song, he said, “I’d have to pick ‘Fantasy Girl.’ It was a lot of work and caused a lot of frustration, but I’m very proud of that. I had started to be influenced by Brian May, not his playing style, but in the way he layered guitars. We were recording on a 24-track machine, and on that song Rodney gave me 12 of them!”

    His favorite lick on the Deluxe was the triplet in the “Hold On Loosely” solo.

    “I used to get asked about that a lot,” he chuckled. “I’d go into a music store and players would say, ‘How did you do that?’”

    While he appreciates that he and Bailey own similar instruments, he’s quick to point out, “Whether it’s great players like Barry Bailey or Larry Carlton or anybody else, it’s about what the player does with his hands.”


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • The Les Paul Becomes The SG

    The Les Paul Becomes The SG

    Photos by William Ritter. Instrument courtesy of Gruhn Guitars.

    It may be difficult to imagine now, but Gibson’s original Les Paul was only a modest success.

    Introduced in 1952, the Gibson Les Paul Model (a.k.a. goldtop) reached peak production in ’53, when 2,245 were shipped before sales failed to meet expectations and subsequent production totals were adjusted downward. Gibson introduced the “black beauty” Les Paul Custom in late 1953, but the reception was similar and its sales peaked in ’55. The plainer/cheaper Les Paul Special did no better. In fact, the lone exception was the basic, stripped-down, one-pickup Junior, introduced in ’54 to relatively good sales likely because its price was much lower.

    Gibson’s next move to breathe life into the Les Paul line came in ’57, when the Custom and the goldtop Les Paul Model were among the first guitars to get Seth Lover’s newly designed “humbucking” pickup, which offered low-noise output and the inherent quality of cancelling 60-cycle hum that plagued performers in many live settings. The pickup produced a strong midrange tone that, unfortunately, didn’t find a ready use at the time – blues-based rock was a decade in the future and among electric-blues players in south Chicago whose style and sound could’ve put them to good use, few could afford a Les Paul. In the broader market of the late ’50s, the rapidly growing surf music was based on bright, twangy single-coil pickups; Les Pauls were neither bright nor twangy.

    In August of ’58, Gibson ditched the Les Paul Model’s gold top in favor of a “sunburst” finish intended to imply “upscale.” An internal memo from that December makes a telling statement: “In the future, all Les Paul guitars will be shipped in cherry sunburst finish – there will be no increase in price.” This was not followed by aggressive promotion, and sunburst was not mentioned in the company’s ’58 or ’59 catalogs.

    By the late ’50s, the market for solidbody electrics had become crowded. Fender expanded beyond its Telecaster, Esquire, and Stratocaster with the Duo-Sonic in ’56 and the Jazzmaster in ’58. Gretsch premiered its Jet series in ’54, and while not true solidbodies, they were aimed at the same players.

    The serial number on this 1960 model, 011485, is 10 units earlier than the single-cut “Last ’Burst” featured in this issue.

    Aside from subjective preferences about how one guitar played or sounded compared to another, working guitarists talked about how Fenders and Gretsches were so much lighter than a Les Paul. While the difference was not extreme, it mattered to club musicians, who typically stood for hours on end. The folks in Kalamazoo, tired of sales reports reminding them how other makers were besting Gibson sales in guitar shops across the U.S.A., decided to make more-blatant changes to the Les Paul.

    In mid 1958, their response arrived in the form of a new double-cutaway body of the same thickness as the previous single-cut Les Paul Junior and Special, but with rounded horns. The design, though, proved problematic on the Special, since the neck tenon was cut during the routing for the rhythm pickup, thereby weakening the neck joint. To strengthen it, Gibson moved the neck-position pickup slightly toward the bridge in ’59. But it was still far from ideal. The Special was renamed SG Special that year, retaining its “slab” body.

    A second double-cut design, with pointed horns, was introduced gradually over the course of a year beginning in late 1960, and first used on the Les Paul Standard. Lighter and thinner, it was comparable in weight to any Fender or solid Gretsch, and boasted improved play up the neck thanks to a thinner profile and the fact it joined the body at the 21st fret. Like Fender’s Strat, its body edges were “relieved,” to allow greater comfort. The model name SG was used on the Special starting in ’59, but wasn’t used on the Junior, Standard, or Custom until early ’63.

    Unfortunately, the modernization proved flawed. That thin, sleek neck joint on the thin beveled-edge body revealed itself as weaker than on the previous design. The long, thin neck was also less stable, which made it difficult to keep the guitar in-tune. And finally, the rout for the control pots made the body weak in that area, so if the guitar fell off of a player’s strap and hit the floor, the lower bout could break. Even more dramatic was the sad discovery by some players who broke the bout by stepping on their own cord, yanking it an unfortunate angle.

    As it had done with the single-cut, Gibson took steps to improve the new guitar. Still, the transition did not equate to resounding commercial success. Production rose slightly in 1960 and ’61, then flat-lined. Plus, the burgeoning folk-music boom had shifted interest to acoustic instruments; sales of Gibson flat-tops almost tripled as mandolin and banjo sales rose, as well.

    This guitar has suffered a break at neck-body joint, which was notoriously weak on early versions of the model. The new Les Paul boasted a slim, fast neck profile.

    Interest in Gibson solidbodies wasn’t rekindled until well into the 1960s. Eric Clapton’s use of a ’59 Standard on the John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers’ “Beano” album in ’66 reinforced public interest in the original, but Clapton did not use his sunburst Les Paul very long and became better-known for playing his psychedelically painted “Fool” SG/Les Paul Standard. Blues guitarist Michael Bloomfield acquired a ’54 goldtop in 1965 and used it extensively until ’67, when he acquired a sunburst ’59 Les Paul Standard and used it with the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, influencing many musicians to seek out that specific model. By late in the decade, the popularity of surf music was on the wane and more players were discovering that the original Les Paul, especially with humbucking pickups, perfectly suited R&B and electric blues. Gibson responded in ’68 by reintroducing the single-cut Les Paul Standard in a goldtop version rather than the Cherry Sunburst players preferred (see “Southern Gold: Two Legendary Les Paul Deluxes” in this issue), though, in a move befitting Gibson and the model itself, it was hamstrung because instead of the humbuckers that helped reignite interest, Gibson equipped the goldtop Standard with two single-coil P-90 pickups; it did give the Custom version two humbuckers, but dressed that model with low “fretless wonder” frets, which were unpopular with R&B and blues players. But that’s another story.


    Learn more about George Gruhn at Gruhn Guitars.

    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Bird Golden Eagle 4/25

    Bird Golden Eagle 4/25

    Amp and photos courtesy of Mike Tamposi.
    1962 Bird Golden Eagle 4/25
    • 
Preamp tubes: three EF86, six ECC83 (12AX7)
    • Output tubes: two EL34
    • Rectifier: GZ34
    • 
Controls: Volume and Tone for each of two channels; tremolo Depth and Speed; shared Reverb Level with Max/Min switches and channel-assign switch; and Repetitive Echo switch
    • Speaker: 15″ Wharfdale W15/EG
    • Output: around 25 watts RMS

    Many of the oddballs, also-rans, and otherwise unusual creations we see in the amp world fall into the “B-list” category – the budget, student, and catalog amps that often display appealing ’50s and ’60s cosmetics but were never expected to lead the field. British maker Bird felt otherwise in creating the Golden Eagle 4/25.

    Add up its features and the outrageous ambition of its design, and this amp clearly carried the full weight of its maker’s hopes and dreams as it headed out to conquer the world of Vox, Selmer, Watkins, and those pricey overseas imports from Fender and Gibson. 

    Did it succeed? Errr, no. But you know that already. If it had, Bird would be a household name… in guitarists’ households at least. Regardless, the Golden Eagle 4/25 was kitted like few other amps in the early ’60s – bigger Magnatones and Gibson’s GA-79RVT come to mind as competition in the “let’s see what we can pack in here” stakes, and it’s also likely Bird was taking a swipe at Watkins’ echo-equipped Joker featured here last month. The model name denotes number of inputs (four) and output rating (25 watts), respectively, and the amp packed two independent channels, reverb, tremolo, and a mystical effect dubbed “Repetitive Echo.” That alone should have won fans.

    The Golden Eagle 4/25 is laid out across upper and lower preamp and output chassis, with its odd spring-reverb unit beneath the latter.

    But, Bird wasn’t fated to crack the big-time. For the company’s lineup, as with so many interesting also-rans, that likely had to do with a lack of understanding of what made a tube-driven guitar amp sing – elements achieved in abundance in Fender’s tweed Deluxe or Bassman, Vox’s AC15 and AC30, and the yet-to-come Marshall JTM45 and JMP50.

    Bird, it just so happens, was primarily a manufacturer of electronic organs, and it approached amplification more like a hi-fi manufacturer than a guitar-amp maker. With the goal of building clean-sounding amps, it rendered many rather anemic; the smaller Golden Eagle 2/15, for example, with a pair of EL84s, is severely constricted by its ultralinear output stage. This big one, then, might have been a happy accident; with a pair of cathode-biased EL34s and a big output transformer unfettered by ultralinear aspirations, the 4/25, says owner Mike Tamposi, absolutely roars while still providing plenty to ponder in a fussy and unusual circuit.

    In addition to organs, Sydney S. Bird & Sons, of Poole, Dorset, did make several nifty guitar amps between around 1959 and ’65. Quality-wise, they were more on par with Watkins and Selmer than Vox and Marshall, but several carried interesting features. This Golden Eagle 4/25 seems to have been the flagship. And while the bones were more robust than some of the company’s other offerings, its bells and whistles were mostly sub-par. Tamposi said both of his 4/25s are finicky.

    The bevy of onboard effects is impressive, though you’d be fortunate to find them functioning 55 years down the road.

    “They remind me of my Selmers, but with printed circuit boards instead of standard point-to-point style wiring,” he said. “And while Bird used cheap caps and resistors, the transformers look like Drakes. It’s supposed to have an echo effect, but I can’t get it to work on either amp.”

    His latter observation seems common, likely due to the fiddly nature of the “echo” circuit, which itself relies on the fiddly nature of the reverb circuit. The spring pan uses a crystal gramophone cartridge at each end to transmit and receive signal. These units sound interesting at best, though not as lush as the types used by Fender and Ampeg, and they’re prone to breakage. Bird’s Repetitive Echo effect used a tube-driven network to tap the spring at different points to produce a pre-set pseudo echo, with (it would seem) short-lived success.

    Otherwise, from preamp to output stage, the Golden Eagle 4/25 follows familiar British circuit topology derived from Mullard’s applications manuals of the day, siblings of which are seen in some Vox and Selmer peers. Each channel has its own EF86 pentode preamp tube (a third drives the reverb), followed by a Volume potentiometer linked to a simple treble-bleed Tone pot. Skipping around the befuddling complement of effects – and making its way from the upper preamp chassis to the lower output-stage chassis via a cumbersome umbilical cord – the signal from each channel hits a sturdy long-tailed-pair phase inverter populated by an ECC83 (a.k.a. 12AX7). From there, it’s on to the EL34 output tubes which are independently cathode-biased with individual 470-ohm resistors and 50-microfarad bypass caps. All in all, the configuration makes Bird’s 25-watt rating fairly likely, even possibly conservative, though the same setup in a fixed-bias output stage fed with higher voltages might generate in excess of 50 watts. Rectification comes from another British standard, a GZ34 tube, and Bird included a hefty choke in the power-filtering line to help keep the tone punchy and the lows beefy.

    This amp’s lower chassis has pencil-written legends for KT66 tubes in the output positions, though other Golden Eagle 4/25s carried the same EL34s; the schematic we’ve seen also calls for EL34s, and not only is Tamposi’s other example loaded with them, he’s fairly certain all of the tubes in this amp are the original Mullards. So, perhaps KT66s were a design whim that never got off the ground?

    (Top) A trio of EF86 pentode preamp tubes (one for each channel, one for reverb) in the upper chassis gets things started in grand British style. (Bottom) The 4/25’s lower chassis houses its preamp’s EF86 and ECC83 tubes, two EL34 power tubes, transformer, and more.

    All of this 25-plus watts is pumped into a hulking 15″ Wharfedale W15/EG speaker adorned with a spec label that cooperatively reads “10-15 ohms.” Relatively robust for its day, it might still have balked – or simply folded – at the full force of the cranked 4/25, but Tamposi doesn’t take any such chances when he wants to set loose the Golden Eagle.

    “This sucker has a lot of gain,” he said. “So, I run it through a Marshall 4×12 and shake the farm!”


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • David Ryan Harris

    David Ryan Harris

    David Ryan Harris: Shervin Lainez.

    David Ryan Harris gets his greatest exposure singing and playing guitar around the world with John Mayer, but he’s been an accomplished songwriter for nearly 30 years. While he has a handful of solo albums and songwriting credits with Mayer, Dave Matthews, and Cassandra Wilson, he kept a handful of tunes for his new solo record ironically titled Songs For Other People.

    Explain the title of the album.

    I write songs to pitch to other people, and I had amassed a pile that nobody ended up loving. I thought I could put them together and make them hang as an album. Any other time I’m thinking I should write a specific body of work for a record. This wasn’t that. I usually aim for 15 songs and figure out which hold best to the mission statement.

    Love is the central theme. There’s a certain amount of loss on a lot of them. “Darling” is about “Let’s burn this thing down that we had, and move to a new place.” “Coldplay” is a rumination about a relationship that fell apart. There are a few songs where you could do a narrative about the beginning of a relationship all the way to the end. “Red Balloons” is almost like a positive thing. This is the closest I will ever come to a disjointed pop record.

    You began in the punk funk band Follow For Now in the late 1980s. How did you evolve from that to love songs?

    It’s returning to what I came up with as a kid. There was tons of Stevie Wonder and ’70s AM radio. You have James Taylor, Earth, Wind & Fire, and Bill Withers. That’s what I grew up with during my formative years. I got a little older and more rebellious, as you do in your teen years, and punk really spoke to that. Bands like Bad Brains, Fishbone, Metallica, and the first Jane’s Addiction record. Those spoke to where I was at.

    When that band broke up, it was difficult to play solo shows doing punk music, so I said “I’m going play music by myself with an acoustic guitar.” I returned to the stuff that I started with. There was a [NBC] show called “Michelob Presents Night Music.” They had a live performance with Pops Staples of The Staple Singers – just him playing a 335. I remember watching and thinking, “When I’m Pops Staples’ age, what kind of songs can I sing?” I don’t have any songs that I wouldn’t look ridiculous singing at that age. So I wanted to make music that could live with me forever.

    I would love to put a band together. That’s my favorite state of being. Being in a band, rolling around with your buddies like a street gang. I love the musical camaraderie. I just haven’t been able to put one together. With this material, it’s not like I make acoustic records. These records are fully realized band records. It’s just expensive to tour with a band. That is why I tour acoustic – not because I have some mission statement about being an acoustic act.

    Which guitars are you using?

    I have a Gibson ES-330 that I love playing and writing with. It just sings. I also bought a Fender Jay Mascis signature Jazzmaster. It was super cheap and played great. I was never a Jazzmaster guy, but I love it. For acoustics, I have a ’66 Gibson Country & Western and a Martin OM-JM. There’s also a Gibson J-45 I’ve had for 14 years. I played that a bunch on this record and I play it on the road with John Mayer. I also have a pair of SG Melody Makers. I needed something that had single-coils, but didn’t want a Strat sound because John has that covered.

    What’s you role in Mayer’s band?

    I’m the glue. We have three guitar players, so it’s always an exercise in playing parts. I’m staying out of the way, but I’m being supportive and just being good. I have to have big ears on this gig so I can hear what John is doing and find my way without stepping on toes. I think this band requires that you have big ears and pay attention the whole time.

    What’s on your docket looking ahead?

    I’m going back on the road with John and then going out for three weeks supporting my record. Then there are more dates with John; I’m going to South America and then the West Coast. I’m excited about it.


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • James Elkington

    James Elkington

    James Elkington: Spencer Tweedy.

    Expatriate English guitarist James Elkington has long been based in Chicago, collaborating with other musicians including Janet Bean, Nathan Salsburg, and Steve Gunn. His first solo album is a mostly-acoustic effort called Wintres Woma, and it gives nod to his homeland in ways beyond its Old English title, which means “the sound of winter.”

    “The way I write songs has a kind of ‘Englishness’ to it, though I haven’t really been able to put my finger on what that is,” he recently told VG. “It gets in your bones, and I’m more aware of it now that I don’t live there. I was also concentrating on trying to get the arrangement figured out in the guitar part in the way that a lot of British folk players used to do.”

    Elkington played his parts in a DADGAD, a tuning he practiced during down time on tours.

    “I wanted to tap into the way people like Pierre Bensusan and Martin Carthy arranged traditional songs, and apply it to my own,” he explained.

    Wintres Woma was recorded at the studio of alt-rock band Wilco, where Elkington used guitars owned by Jeff Tweedy.

    “Jeff’s collection is out of control, so I had to limit myself to the eight or nine guitars immediately around me, just to get any work done,” Elkington said. “The one that got the most use was Jeff’s Gibson L-00 from 1934, which sounded great in the room, but even better recorded. It was exactly the sound I was after, so I used it for almost everything. I recorded a couple songs with my Santa Cruz OM, which has been my main guitar for a while. I also used a ’50s Martin nylon-string, and one of Jeff’s Waterloo WL-14s. I was so impressed with his that I bought one to use on tour. It’s the closest thing I have to Jeff’s L-00.”

    He also played banjo (“a crappy Washburn I’ve been dragging around for 25 years”) and a dobro.

    The album’s leadoff track, “Make It Up,” is also the first single, propelled by a rolling, rapid-fire fingerpicked anchor lick and one of the few electric guitar passages on the album.

    “It’s the most-accessible song on the record – kind of uptempo, but also a mission statement,” he detailed. “The electric is a parts Tele with an old Burns Tri-Sonic pickup, going through a ’60s Magnatone Twilighter.”

    The only discernible percussion is a tabla sound on “Make It Up” and “Wading the Vapors.”

    “Those are congas played with mallets by Tim Daisy, who’s a great drummer,” Elkington said. “Anything else in the way of percussion is probably me.”

    “The Parting Glass” is a traditional instrumental.

    “It’s an old Irish tune I found in a book,” said Elkington. “Again, I’m a fan of how people like Martin Carthy and Bert Jansch would arrange traditional music for other tunings, and that was my first attempt at taking a melody and putting a newly composed harmony to it.”

    What sounds like an orchestral interlude on “Greatness Yet To Come” is “…actually just two very gifted musicians doubling themselves with different instruments and making it sound like an orchestra. Macie Stewart plays violin and viola, and Tomeka Reid plays cello. I wanted it to have a cinematic feel, and I think it came out really well considering it was just the two of them.”

    The final track contains another bit of electric. “The solos on ‘Any Afternoon’ are a Les Paul,” he said. “It’s chambered and has Duncan Antiquities. I’m way into it.”

    While Elkington had a concept for the disc and is proud of the results, he still appreciates playing with others.

    “I think collaborations are my more-natural habitat,” he said. “As long as I get a balance, I’m happy.”


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Billy Flynn

    Billy Flynn

    The phrase “electric blues” is a catch-all for many genres, but for aficionados it refers to a highly specific idiom from the Windy City. In fact, if you listen to Billy Flynn’s smokin’ new album, Lonesome Highway, you will identify it instantly, as his tone and sweet licks capture the nuance of Chicago’s best guitarmen. For Flynn, this kind of blues is less about chops, and far more about tone, soul, and the very deepest of grooves.

    Who are your main influences?

    B.B. King and Muddy Waters, but also Chicago’s West Side blues players like Magic Sam and Otis Rush. For slide, it’s Tampa Red, Robert Nighthawk, Earl Hooker, and Elmore James. My number one influence was Jimmy Dawkins; after seeing him play, I knew I wanted to play in the style that he created.

    The album’s opener, “Good Navigator,” has a feel and tone like Chuck Berry. You really nailed it.

    I bought my first electric guitar when I was about 12 and spent a lot of time playing along to his records. I used to watch him on TV, and he said he listened to Elmore James, T-Bone Walker, and Charlie Christian. Because of those guitarists, I thought of Chuck Berry as more of a Swing-era player from the ’40s and ’50s rather than a rock and roller. He had a real ringing tone.

    “Small Town” displays some blues-funk bottleneck.

    That sound was from Earl Hooker. When I was learning to play, I bought every album I could by Earl, and when I saw pictures of him, I noticed a small slide on his fingers. Now I use that small slide, too. It’s good for single-note runs.

    Your tone on Lonesome Highway is huge. Is there any secret to getting a big, fat tone?

    I try different things, like changing pickup positions and adding reverb or using different Tone-control settings. Where you pick on the guitar changes the sound, too. Also, when I used to play alongside bluesmen like James Wheeler, Louis Myers, and Little Smokey Smothers, I had to find a way to step up my rig and become aware of the things I needed to do to keep up.

    Is the dirty tone on “If It Was For The Blues” from the amp, or did you use a booster pedal?

    No overdrive pedal was used; we used a Fender Super Reverb and an original Peavey Bandit turned up loud! I hooked them up together, but miked each separately.

    What guitars and pedals did you use?

    I used a 1994 Gibson ES-335, a Squier Vintage-Modified Jaguar for some rhythm, and a Squier Strat. All guitars are stock. I had a Cry Baby Wah I’ve used since the ’70s. For gigs, I play Jay Turser semi-hollowbodies because they’re very light, play great, and are sturdy. I’ve taken them around the world and never had a malfunction.

    What kept you on an old-school blues path instead of playing louder blues-rock?

    I’ve always loved the true sound of the blues and was inspired by the blues greats. I also loved the rock and roll of the ’50s and early ’60s, but never really was a rock musician myself. I was much more into jazz and early rock with a swinging rhythm section. By meeting – and being encouraged by – many great Chicago players like Johnny Littlejohn, Jimmy Rogers, Mighty Joe Young, and Luther Allison, I knew I wanted to play blues. They sounded different than everyone else to me – that real Chicago sound.

    Your career started in the ’70s, when vintage blues was not much in fashion. Did that shape you as a blues musician?

    During that time, I had the pleasure of meeting B.B. King, Howlin’ Wolf, Charlie Musselwhite, Jimmy Dawkins, Jimmy Rogers, and Luther Allison, and many others. To me, there was never a lack of blues, and there was so much of it – there were lots of musicians touring and playing in a lot of venues. Later, I also played Top 40, disco, and country to keep busy and working. Playing all that stuff helped me develop as a musician and, actually, the blues also was being influenced by funk and disco at the time.

    What advice would give a young player who wants to learn more about traditional blues guitar?

    My advice would be to practice, listen to the original electric-blues artists, and not assume that blues is easy to play. There are some basic elements of the music that are sometimes overlooked, but give it that great sound. Once you’ve got the building blocks, you can develop your own style. Listen to lots of music and keep your ears open to new styles.


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Billy Sheehan

    Billy Sheehan

    Billy Sheehan: William Hames.

    Though there’s no denying Billy Sheehan’s exceptional technical talents on the bass, he has always kept sight on the importance of the song – as evidenced by his work with David Lee Roth, Mr. Big, and the Winery Dogs. He recently returned to the fold with Mr. Big, the rock band that also features Paul Gilbert, to record Defying Gravity.

    Which basses, effects, and amps did you use on Defying Gravity?

    Pretty much the same I use live – a Yamaha prototype bass that I’ve beat it up pretty badly touring the last few years on hot, sweaty nights. So this was probably the last album I’ll use it on. I’m replacing it with a production model, which is way better than the prototype! The prototype was made by hand, but the production models are perfect. That through my Hartke LH1000 amps. My pedalboard has an EBS [Billy Sheehan Signature Drive], which has great harmonic content, super-smooth distortion that can dial in as much or as little as you want without effecting the normal tone.

    From a bass-playing perspective, do you have some favorite new songs?

    There’s one called “Be Kind,” which is the last song on the album. It’s a beautiful, bluesy piece, and we played it straight. Nothing fancy, but just lock with the drums and do your thing. There’s one called “Mean to Me” which required me to adjust some technique because it was a blazing, typical right-handed thing. I ended up using the four-finger technique. People always ask me about my three fingers, and I went to four for this because it’s a grouping of notes to pluck that I could have done with three, but to really make it sound right, I had to do with four. That was a real challenge; I had to strap myself in and hit it hard. And there are a couple of ballads that are really nice. One is called “Damn I’m in Love Again,” which is basically straight-up-clean bass, playing the root fifth octave and a very simple super-deep low. It’s a beautiful, simple thing. I get accused of, “All he ever does is solo all the time.” No. That’s not true. The most successful song I ever played on was “To Be With You,” and there’s no bass solo on that.

    Was the David Lee Roth Eat ‘Em and Smile album and tour a high point of your career?

    In a way, yes. But I actually had more personal success with Mr. Big. But I came from almost zero to something with Dave. If it wasn’t for Dave calling and bringing me out to L.A. to start a band, we may not be talking together right now. It was such a pivotal moment in my life and a huge change of every aspect in my life – leaving Buffalo, starting a band was a whole new world, a whole new life. So yeah, I guess it probably is one of the most important things that ever happened. However, with Mr. Big we had a #1 single, and that was my band, so it was a bit more satisfying in that respect. But I still never doubt that none of that could have happened if I wouldn’t have been involved with Dave and the Eat ’Em and Smile record.

    Was there any professionally filmed footage of an Eat ’Em and Smile show?

    I have – on a hard drive – a full, professionally shot version of the Eat ‘Em and Smile show; I believe it may have been shot in Baltimore. But it doesn’t belong to me, so I can’t distribute it. In the end, Dave or Warner Brothers would own it. Hopefully someday, Dave will say, “Let’s play again, and let’s take out all the archives, and let the public have them.”

    Is your old Fender Precision Bass, “The Wife,” retired?

    It’s packed away, but I take it out every once in a while. Recently, I was working on a project and I had all these old spare parts leftover from the days putting that bass together – Gibson pickups and bridges and all kinds of stuff. So I went out and bought bodies and necks from Warmoth – who blew me away with the quality of work they do – and I used them to make two versions of the original Wife, just because I didn’t want to get rid of the old parts, and wanted to use them on something. So I’ll do a little photo essay of my adventure of making those basses soon and post it online.


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Jimmy Nalls

    Jimmy Nalls

    Jimmy Nalls: Jon Sievert.

    On June 22, the musical journey of guitar great Jimmy Nalls ended due to the effects of Parkinson’s Disease and injuries sustained in a fall at his Nashville home. He was 66.

    In bittersweet irony, his death came three days after the release of the star-studded Jimmy Nalls Project – what was to be his sophomore solo album, shelved in various stages of completion 18 years prior, after Parkinson’s rendered him unable to play. Nashville luthier Joe Glaser, along with Gabriel Hernandez, of Blues Vintage Guitars, Inc., helped organize the project, with Warren Haynes, Robben Ford, Larry Carlton, Joe Bonamassa, Johnny Hiland, Chuck Leavell, Kenny Greenberg, Aerosmith’s Brad Whitford, and others lending their talents, along with engineers and studios, with 100 percent of the proceeds going to help defray medical and funeral expenses.

    Growing up in Maryland and Virginia, Nalls learned his first chords from his father at age five. He cited Roy Buchanan as his biggest influence, along with Duane Allman, Leo Kottke, and Lowell George for slide.

    He was probably best known as a founding member of Sea Level, formed in ’76 as sort of a splinter group of the Allman Brothers Band. Chuck Leavell first played with Nalls in 1970 as part of Alex Taylor’s band, then the pair joined Dr. John.

    “We traveled together, ate together, rehearsed together, played gigs together,” the keyboardist wrote on his website. “Jimmy and I… shared our dreams together, talked of our hopes and aspirations, as well as our disappointments and frustrations. We laughed and cried together. We were brothers.”

    The quartet (later adding guitarist Davis Causey) was the perfect showcase for Nalls’ versatility, spanning Southern rock to Steely-Dan-esque jazz, with Nalls occasionally serving up a blistering take on Freddie King’s “Hideaway.”

    His resume also revealed his range, with recordings by Doug Kershaw, Don McLean, Gregg Allman, Livingston Taylor, Bill Anderson, Bonnie Bramlett, and Bobby Whitlock. He also played on the famous “Wedding Song” by Noel Paul Stookey of Peter, Paul and Mary.

    In ’86, Nalls moved to Nashville, where he worked with country singer Charly McClain, and in ’88 he joined D.C. blues band The Nighthawks.

    “I first met Jimmy when he came to Nashville in the ’80s,” Haynes recalled. “I had admired his guitar playing for many years, but what I realized in getting to know him and hearing him in a lot of different situations was that he was holding a lot of cards he didn’t always play. Each time I heard him and in each different situation, I would hear different sides of his playing that all seemed equally natural. There was a time when I toured with The Nighthawks, not too long after he did, and I got to hear the tapes of him playing straight-up blues, and he sounded great. His playing could be beautifully understated; then out of left field, he would explode with some s*** you didn’t expect. He was also a very kind, shy human being who always made other people feel good about themselves.”

    Despite being diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 1995, Nalls recorded his first solo record, Ain’t No Stranger, in ’99.

    “Jimmy had such a natural relationship with the instrument that it seemed easy for the music to come through him, like he couldn’t help but play in a way that touched on all the nuances that guitar players revere, but not in any obvious, showy, ego-bound way,” said songwriter/guitarist Gary Nicholson. “He had plenty of chops but was always in service of the song. The times I got to talk with him were few, mostly just guitar-nerd stuff. He played with my friend T. Graham Brown, who recorded many of my songs, and we had quite a few common pals. I was honored to play on ‘Wood And Wire,’ a very cool commentary on the guitar-playing profession.”

    “I met Jimmy at a recording studio in Nashville, while doing guitar overdubs for his record,” Ford detailed. “He came in in a wheelchair with friends, and he appeared to be shining – very bright-looking. He was obviously happy to be in a recording studio and around musicians. I really liked ‘Natural Thing’ and have considered playing it myself. I know Jimmy’s a legend, and I’m happy that I was able to work on his record.”

    Hiland became a fan through Nalls’ work with T. Graham Brown,  “…plus, I’d heard that he was a killer session musician from other guitarists around Nashville. When Joe Glaser called and told me of this project for Jimmy, and that he was suffering with Parkinson’s, I jumped onboard immediately. To me, it’s always important to help any fellow musician who has fallen with major illness, and I was deeply honored to be asked to be a part.”

    Bonamassa summed up the feelings of many: “The world cannot afford losses like Jimmy. I am so sad to hear of his passing. It’s an honor of a lifetime to have appeared on his last album.”


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

  • Rex Brown

    Rex Brown

    Rex Brown: Neil Zlozower.

    Throughout his career, Rex Brown has delivered the low-end as the bassist for Pantera, Down, and Kill Devil Hill. But for his new (and first-ever) solo album, Smoke on This, he picked up the six-string.

    Motivation for the effort came on the road with Kill Devil Hill.

    “This is purely for the love of music,” he said. “Sitting on the tour bus, I thought, ‘I need to watch the grass grow. I want to kick back. I want to watch my kids grow. I want to go play guitar.”

    Brown handled vocals, rhythm guitar, and bass while friend Lance Harvill contributed lead guitar, producer Caleb Sherman played keyboards and lap steel, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Peter Keys offered further keys plus mellotron, and drummer Christopher Williams kept the beat. Stylistically, the album recalls a vibe straight out of the ’70s – not by accident.

    “I was listening to a lot of ’70s hits, which took me back to some really great [music] not only from the soul side, but the rock-and-roll standpoint.”

    “Get Yourself Alright” leans heavy on psychedelia (“I tried to make it even more psychedelic, but got tired of fighting the producer”), “Fault Line” is mellow tune (“The very first one I sang on…”), while “Buried Alive” possesses a Zeppelin vibe.

    “That one’s probably my favorite. Writing the lyric was cathartic, and there’s the jam at the end. I wanted to make songs that were catchy, but not every one had to have a lead. For me, it is about the composition. I did the arrangements in Pantera, so I know what to do here and when to go there, and ‘Buried Alive’ is the epitome of where I want to be.”

    A particular guitar and amp started the ball rolling.

    “I took my rebuild of a ’60s Telecaster – beat up, looks like it came out of a pawn shop, but plays like no other. I have a ’68 Fender Twin Reverb, so I plugged in and learned how to play guitar again. I’ve played guitar since I was nine years old, but I had to knock some rust off.”

    Several Les Pauls also proved prominent, including a VOS goldtop with a Seymour Duncan Custom Custom, as well as Teles and several by Prestige (“They make these insane Les Paul copies that play as good as anything I’ve ever gotten from the Gibson Custom Shop”).

    Various amps were utilized for the sessions, including a small combo and a few provided by Rascal Flatts guitar tech, Dave Graef.

    “I found this ’75 Marshall Super Lead, a ’76 Super Bass, and a 50-watt from 1967. The Super Lead had something about its tone where I could put the knobs straight up. We played it through a Bogner 4×12, with Celestion 30s. I was told it’s the head John Sykes used on Whitesnake’s Slide It In.”

    For Brown, this could be the start of a new chapter.

    “This is a new lease on what I do, musically. And I’m just barely getting my feet wet. There’s much more to do.”


    This article originally appeared in VG October 2017 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.