Tag: features

Jerry Jeff Walker said it best. Describing David Bromberg’s contribution to Walker’s trademark 1968 song, “Mr. Bojangles,” he said simply that Bromberg was “the reason man created stringed instruments.” And when he played, “Wood and wire and flesh spoke.”

Kind words. More importantly, though, they offer rare – and oft-forgotten – insight to the multi-instrumentalist’s influence. Bromberg has released a score of stunning solo albums over the years, but it’s as a sideman and producer that he has time and again swayed the course of some of our favorite music.

Bromberg’s resumé is almost ridiculously impressive. He played at the side of Rev. Gary Davis, and contributed to albums by Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Mike Auldridge, the Eagles, John Prine, Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen – the list goes on and on. And he produced John Hartford’s genre-busting Aereo-Plain album in 1971, which reinvigorated staid bluegrass into “newgrass,” the echoes of which are alive and well today.

Bromberg proved himself a master of the guitar, Dobro, fiddle, and mandolin on his own albums, starting with his ’71 eponymous debut. Throughout the ’70s, he was prolific on all fronts. His albums often ranged widely from the blues to folk, country fiddle tunes to rock and roll – and injected his own brand of humor. Bromberg’s music was even sampled by the Beastie Boys.

In 1980, however, Bromberg went quiet. The toils of touring had tired him out, and he set aside his guitar to retreat from the scene. Still, he kept his hands in music by studying violin making then launching David Bromberg Fine Violins, which he continues to helm today.

After two decades of silence, he returned to playing with 2007’s Try Me One More Time, followed by a live album, then Use Me (in 2011) and Only Slightly Mad (’13). Now, he has a new album, The Blues, the Whole Blues, and Nothing But the Blues. As Bromberg jests, “Yeah, it’s pretty much all about the blues.” It provided an ideal opportunity to sit and talk guitars.

On your early albums, you were known as one of the fastest flatpickers around. 

Fast flatpicking is not possible for me any more. Soulful is what I like best now, anyhow.

Thus, a blues album?

The first time I asked [multi-instrumentalist and friend] Larry Campbell to produce an album for me, I suggested we do all blues because I’d never done a homogenous album before. He said, “Naw, let’s do an old-time David Bromberg album – everything but the kitchen sink.” And that’s what we did [with Only Slightly Mad]. Now, both Larry and I felt it was time for the homogenous one. But it’s not all that homogenous, actually, beyond the connecting element of the blues. And that’s about as homogenous as I can get.

And your sense of humor continues on the new album, from the title and cover to your interjections within songs.

There’s nothing much I can do about that – it’s what I do. But people sometimes confuse irony with humor. To me, good blues has to be ironic; the most famous blues line is, “I’ve been down so long it feels like up to me.” You can’t get too much more ironic than that. At the same time, it’s also kind of funny. The important thing, really, to me, is the irony. That’s just the way I am.

In 1980, you stepped aside from recording and releasing albums…

Yes, but only for 22 years. I actually learned to build violins as a means to an end. What I was really interested in was learning how to identify them. If a guitar says “Gibson” on it, the chances are very good that it was made by the Gibson company. But if a violin says “Stradivarius,” that doesn’t improve its chances of being a Stradivarius; you got to know what they look like. I went to violin-making school so I could understand how they were made, so I could begin to get an idea of who made what, when, and where. 

And over the years you gathered an incredible collection of vintage violins – some 250 made by about that many different builders.

It took me 50 years to put the collection together. The Library of Congress has agreed to try to find a buyer for it within a couple years.

You’ve also owned – and played – quite a collection of guitars.

The collection I have now is nothing like I used to have. If we start talking about the collection I used to have, we’d both be in tears. During the period when I wasn’t playing, I thought I’d never play again, so when I needed money – which was often enough – I sold them. Still, I kept a few of my favorites and now have a lot of new ones.

Is the Fender Esquire one of those? Is it the same one shown on your ’70s albums.

Yes, I kept that ’58 /’59 Esquire maybe because I didn’t think it was worth a lot. But I know now that I’ll die owning that guitar, that’s for sure. It has my sound and no other guitar does and when other people play it, it doesn’t sound the same. 

I can’t even remember where I found that guitar. But when I bought it, it was used – now it’s vintage. I’ve had it since the ’60s. I don’t even remember if it had that added humbucker [neck] pickup. 

I used it on albums through the ’70s. I used to play it more on the humbucker, but these days I play it more on the back pickup, which is a Velvet Hammer made by Red Rhodes. It’s more powerful than the original.

How does the Esquire differ from your early Tele?

The Tele is kind of a mutt. It’s a ’57 neck, though it looks kind of white since I just had it re-fretted. The body and back pickup are from ’59. That guitar’s a recent acquisition. It’s pretty funny. I was at a guitar show and ran into Matt Umanov. I told him I was looking for a couple guitars, including an electric. I told him I’d like to find a ’50s Telecaster, but there’d probably need to be something wrong with it so I could afford it. And his answer was, “You and the rest of the world!” And then I walked maybe 40 feet – and there was this guitar! I’d been looking for one for a number of years, and it was exactly what I wanted.

It has a very different sound than the Esquire. I didn’t want to duplicate that. 

Do you prefer to play slide on one or the other?

I play whatever needs playing on them.

Which amps do you run them through?

I’ve had my ’59 Bassman since the ’60s. I bought it from SIR (Studio Instrument Rentals) in New York. They thought it had gotten too funky to rent out anymore, so they sold it to me and I’ve played it ever since. 

And you have a small vintage Electar.

I did a record called Use Me and I asked a bunch of musicians to write a song for me, then produce me doing that song. Obviously, I have balls of brass! And believe it or not, pretty near everyone I asked did it. One of the people was John Hiatt. When I went to record with John, he brought in a Valco; I had never played through anything that didn’t say “Fender” on it, and I really liked that amp. So I became interested in non-Fender amps. 

A guy I was recording with had this small brown Electar in his basement, and hadn’t bothered with it for years. My wife bought it for me as a birthday present. I’ve never had such a good amp, I’m wild about it. I take it on the road; it goes in the overhead. Onstage, I always have my amps pointed toward me, and up; that’s how I used that amp onstage. And of course, we mic it.

It spurred you to collect Electars?

Yeah. They used to be all over eBay, and I bought a bunch because I got really curious about them. 

What did you use to get the tones on the album?

That’s the Esquire through an amp that I take on the road when I don’t fly; it’s a Tone King Falcon, their smallest model. I play it on the road because one time my little brown Electar was left on overnight and caught fire – the shielding on the wires got cooked. My manager is convinced it’s going to do that again, but it won’t.

You get a nice, lowdown, gritty sound on some songs. Do you use effects to help with that?

Nope, that’s my guitar and the Electar turned up loud, but not deafening. You need to turn them up a certain amount to get a nice sound. I used it at a John Lennon tribute show with a band of New York studio players, and they made me turn it down. That tiny little thing! It’s not much watts, but puts out more than you might expect.

On the acoustic front, you have a lovely Martin O-42.

That was a gift from Joan Baez… must have been 15 years ago. It was one of hers, and it’s gorgeous – one of the nicest presents anybody’s ever given me. I don’t know the vintage.

You have other Martins, as well, including some that aren’t instantly recognizable…

In the ’60s, a bunch of people started getting interested in F-7s and F-9s, which are the same shape as triple-Os, but bigger. A number of people made conversions; I know of three before mine and the first was probably done by George Gruhn. They didn’t sound like archtops – they sounded like flat-tops, so everybody made them into flat-tops. John Lundberg did one. Mark Silber worked for Lundberg, and he came to New York City and did one. 

One day, Matt Umanov called and said, “I have a guitar here. Come down and buy it, and I’ll give you a present.” So I went down, and the guitar was 400 bucks, maybe 450. I didn’t know what he was going to do, but he gave me what today is called either an M or a OOOO-42. 

George Gruhn hates to hear this, but the conversions that he and John Lundberg and Mark Silber did used the original necks for the guitars, which were very pretty. But Matty put on a dreadnought neck, and that makes a humongous difference. Martin borrowed mine and copied it.

So what is its sound like?

The original necks were short-scale, so the strings were looser and it didn’t have that really taut bass that mine has. As a matter of fact, Martin didn’t believe it would have any bass. They came when I was doing a show and said, “We’ve got a couple of guitars we’d like you to try.” I said, “Sure!” I was flattered. They gave me what eventually became known as their Jumbo guitar. After a couple weeks, I was back in the area and they came and asked, “What do you think?” And I said, “It’s a very nice guitar…” and they looked very pleased. “But I’d never play it,” I said, then their faces fell. 

They said, “We didn’t want to tell you, but we want to build a guitar like what you play.” And I said, “Why don’t you build one like what I play, then?” And they said, “Because yours has no bass!” I said, “What the hell are you talking about?” So I handed them one of my guitars and they were very surprised. I let them borrow it, and they copied it.

That became my signature model; it’s pretty much a copy of the guitar Matty made and I used exclusively for years before a guy fell on it in Texas. So I stopped taking it out. It was not in a condition where it could be played, and Martin kindly repaired it. It’s once again really good. The only difference between it and the signature guitar is that one doesn’t have the signature and the headstock just has the gold Martin script.

What about the OOOO-21?

That’s the one I play every night. It’s a wonderful guitar. I found it at Gruhn’s. It was George’s very intelligent idea to ask Martin to have their Custom Shop make some with hide glue, and he decided on the quadruple-O shape with the old thicknesses and shaped braces. 

Your D-45 is also stupendous!

It’s a new guitar. I went to visit Martin because I wanted a rosewood dreadnought, and thought it was the best-sounding guitar there. They told me it was one they’d made to give to their best shop clients, but evidently they made one more than they needed, and so they let me take it.

And you have a D-21 Custom…

I found that at Fred Oster’s shop and fell in love with it in about 45 seconds. I’ve used it onstage a number of times – it’s a very rich and excellent dreadnought. It was made in 2011, in the Custom Shop and I’d be having a difficult time if it weren’t for the Martin Custom Shop, because the guitars they’re making are literally as good as anything they’ve ever made. Otherwise, I’d be crying myself to sleep every night.

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

Boiled down, the music of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers is defined by a handful of essential elements: their leader’s character-filled voice, songs about life and its toils, swirling B-3 organ, and – much as anything – Mike Campbell’s solos. Punctuated by two-string octave bends rooted in Chuck Berry double-stops, they trace a melody like Max Verstappen hunting Lewis Hamilton at Circuit de Monaco.

As the Heartbreakers’ debut album arrived in late 1976, the band’s simple, authentic sound at first struggled to find an audience in the U.S., where producer-driven disco was king. In Britain, however, punk and “new wave” acts were dominating charts and headlines; looking to toss the Heartbreakers’ songs on the heap, management booked a tour to coincide with an appearance on “Top of the Pops.” The approach worked, and the band’s first single, “Breakdown,” reached the U.K. Top 40 later that year. After a re-release in early ’78, it did likewise in the U.S.

Driven but clean, prominent and perfect, Campbell’s note choices have always been the cumin in the band’s meat-and-veggies base – its sound and emotion exemplified by the solos on “Refugee” from the band’s breakout 1979 disc Damn The Torpedoes, “Woman in Love” from Hard Promises, loaned to Stevie Nicks for “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around,” and twisted slightly for songs he has written with artists ranging from Lone Justice (“Ways to Be Wicked”) to Don Henley (“Boys of Summer”). 

Campbell met Petty when the latter auditioned drummer Randall Marsh for the band that would become Mudcrutch; when Petty arrived, they beckoned Marsh’s roommate from the next room to provide rhythm. Campbell emerged and started strumming on the Goya sent from Japan by his father. Petty immediately knew he wanted both guys to join, and while the Goya didn’t exactly play with silky smooth action, it was a step up from the Harmony archtop his mom had scored at pawn shop for $15. 

“I tried so hard to play that thing,” he laughed. “The strings were so high and I thought that’s just the way guitars were. But my fingers would literally bleed. I thought ‘How do people do this?’” 

The finger-saving Goya remained until he upgraded to a used Strat acquired with a $200 loan from a friend of the band. Along with a Gibson Firebird and a blackface Fender Twin, it helped establish Campbell’s first definable tones. By the time the band moved to L.A., found new members, and became the Heartbreakers, Campbell was using mostly a Fender Broadcaster he plugged into a tweed Deluxe they found tucked away in a club, dusty and non-functional. They sprang to get it working and used it to record that first album, with “Breakdown,” “American Girl” and “I Need to Know.” Today, vintage tweed Deluxes remain his preferred taste onstage and in the studio. 

“We use old amps and old guitars… but hey, we’re old people,” he laughed. “And the reissues do sound pretty good… until we plug in the old ones.” 

We spoke to Campbell as the band was set to begin rehearsals for its 40th-anniversary tour.

The Heartbreakers have been rolling so long some might fear the tour will be a by-the-numbers affair. How do you keep it fresh for yourself – and in turn for the audience? Can it still be fun? 

It is still fun, and I’m really proud of that because you see a lot of bands – our age, maybe even younger – that go out and you can tell they don’t have that same relationship. They might be in it just for the money or whatever, but if you really love the people you’re playing with and love what you’re doing, that’s communicated to the audience. They can feel that, and they give it back. It snowballs. 

There’s still an energy that stems from genuine enthusiasm?

I can tell you honestly, we love what we do and we’re so grateful that we get to do it. We don’t hang out that much between tours, but when we play, there’s a chemistry that happens; we all get a big smile on our faces. And fortunately, we have a lot of good songs that have held up. I love playing a good song no matter how many times I’ve played it, because I always find inspiration in it. 

How does the intuition created by years together manifest in the music?

Well, there could be a nod of the head or a lean of the shoulder that suggests “I might be going this way…” But yeah, we’ve played together so long we basically read each others’ minds. It’s like one beast. We’ve come back for rehearsal before where we’ll walk in, go “One, two, three, four” and within a few measures, we look at each other and go “Wow!” 

We’re the messengers of this thing that’s happening. Without planning, we create openings for improvising, and we’re really good at it. Ben and I know each other so well that we automatically know the right voicings for the parts we’re playing together. We don’t even talk about it – I just know that if he’s playing a particular sound, I go to a certain note and it works. And vice-versa. If you watch closely, you’re seeing people communicating on a deep, spiritual level – and themselves being a little amazed while they’re doing it. That’s the thrill of it all. 

It’s hard to describe, but I think compared to a lot of bands, there’s a telepathy that makes it magical. The Stones have that, too; when Charlie (Watts, drummer) plays, they don’t think about it, it’s just chemistry. I’m not comparing us to them, but it’s just the idea of musical communication between people who are really tuned-in together. I don’t think you get that with a lot of bands.

The mix of skill, intuition, the personalities, and the songs.

Yeah… it’s the whole beast.

Have you sorted out guitars and amp rigs for the tour?

We don’t have any idea (laughs)… but typically, I’ll have my normal amp rig. And most of the stuff that we use for the familiar songs will involve the same guitars because they make the right sounds. But, for this tour we have the Webb Sisters coming out to sing backup – they were out with Leonard Cohen’s band and they’re really good. So we’ll have them, which I’m thinking will help us go deeper into the catalog and play some songs we don’t normally play. If we do that, I may have to pull out certain different guitars for those songs. But we’ll only know that after we get to rehearsing.

Does Ron (Blair, bassist) get to decide what he’ll take out, or do you and Tom have some input?

Nah, he’s got a great sense of tone – always has. He has a couple great Fenders and a Harmony bass. He does his thing and we trust him – never had a need to question him.

Joe Walsh is opening for better than half the shows.

Yeah, how cool is that? I love Joe! 

He’s pretty easy to get along with…

We’ve done a few gigs together and talked here and there. It’s always a joy seeing him. And he’s a great player. It’s going to be a great bill – lots of guitar. I’m sure we’ll hang out.

Have you ever had the chance to sit with him and talk about guitars and gear?

Yes, a few years ago the Heartbreakers played the Hollywood Bowl. I’d just gotten my ’59 Les Paul and I took it to the gig. Joe came with Jeff Lynne, and I said, “Joe, you gotta see my new guitar,” and I played it on a couple songs. As we were getting ready to go up for an encore, Joe came running over and said, “That guitar!” I said, “What?” And he goes, “It’s a monster!” (laughs) So he’s like me – a little kid when it comes to gear. He’s just such a riot – really positive energy.

Is that the first ’Burst you’ve had?

Yes, it is! It took me 40 years to save up enough money (laughs)!

Should it seem odd that you hadn’t had one years before?

Well, that thick Les Paul sound is not something we explored until more recently. If you think about the Heartbreakers’ sound, we’re a jangly sort of band, with Fenders and Rickenbackers. That’s how we started out. I did have a goldtop back in the day, with P-90s. It’s a great guitar. But the Heartbreakers’ sound – early sound, especially – is jangly.

Many years ago, [guitar dealer] Albert Molinaro came to my house right before a tour and said, “I’ve got this sunburst Les Paul you might like. I’ll leave it with you for a few days.” It was something like 50 grand – this was before they went out of control – and that was a lot of money for me. So I tried it for a few days and thought, “…it’s kinda dark-sounding and heavy…” so I told him, “Nah, I don’t think I want it,” and had him pick it up. So, off I went out on tour… and my wife called a few days later and said, “Ya know, I think you ought to get that guitar. I have a hunch it’ll be a good investment.” So I called Albert, but he said, “Sorry, man, I already sold it.” 

Flash-forward 10 years and he calls and says, “Mike, I’ve got another one.” I was about to go out on tour again, and said, “Well, can I give you half now and half after the tour?”

How much had the price increased in that decade?

About five times over! 

But now you have one…

Yeah, and I’ll never sell it. 

Which guitars did you use on the first Heartbreakers album?

My 1950 Broadcaster is on some of it, including “Breakdown,” and part of it was my Les Paul – “Stranger In The Night” and “Fooled Again.” That’s the goldtop; I like that guitar a lot, it’s a good workhorse. 

What year is it?

It’s a ’68 or ’69, and when I got it, it didn’t have the covers over the pickups – they were just exposed. I thought maybe it had custom pickups, but then later realized someone had just taken the covers off.

It’s unusual to have the covers removed from P-90s…

Well, I didn’t know any better. 

What sort of condition is it in these days?

It’s in great condition. I’ve taken good care of it and haven’t really taken it on tour in quite a while because now I have the other Gibsons. But I pulled it out the other day to record and thought, “Man, this thing sounds great.” It’s really heavy, but when I was younger I didn’t care about that. 

There’s no new album to support on this tour. Does that mean it’ll be a greatest-hits show? 

Well, there are a certain number of songs people expect to hear, and we feel a responsibility to do a lot of them. Hopefully, though, the tour will be a hybrid of enough familiar songs and maybe some deep cuts with the girls helping add depth to the show.

The band has been together 40 years. Looking back, do you have a few highlight tours or shows?

There are a few, yes. The first one that pops into my mind is the Royal Albert Hall George Harrison tribute, because it was such an emotional event in an amazing building. We did three of George’s songs that night and fell in love with the Albert Hall. Now, we try to play it every time we go back to England.  

The Super Bowl in 2008 was… big. I mean, it was exciting and kind of overwhelming because we don’t normally play to 90 million people in one show. It was particularly fun for me because it was my birthday and my family was there; “Dad’s playing the Super Bowl!” I felt pretty important that day (laughs).

There are a lot of shows, and some of my favorite moments were in smaller venues like the Fillmore West. We did a run up there a few years ago and enjoyed some of the most-musical moments I’ve ever had. Certain venues come to mind, like Madison Square Garden. Last year, we played Fenway Park. This year, we’ll play Wrigley Field, and Safeco Field, in Seattle. We’ve never done that before, so it’ll be interesting. 

How about on the other end of the spectrum? Are there gigs that left emotional “scars?” 

Oh, there were some bumps in the road. I remember one back when we were touring between the first and second albums; we were playing a club in Akron, Ohio, and got to the gig late, so there was no sound check. So, we were sitting there with the opening act, and they passed around a… smoke. But they didn’t tell us it was laced with angel dust. So, we get onstage – and we’d never played this place or even seen this stage before we went up there – and in front of Tom there was a lip that went out that you could walk out a little into the audience. But, the way it was lit, from my view it looked like that lip went all the way across the stage. As far as I knew, I could walk all the way out and still be standing on something. So, I got to one of my solos and I went running up… and ended up suddenly standing on the floor (laughs). I didn’t fall – I landed on my feet and kept playing – but I was standing on the floor thinking, “Hey… how’d I get down here?” 

We’ve never had an disaster or train wreck at a gig. We’ve managed to always get the job done on some level. 

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

Blues guitarist/singer Lonnie Brooks died April 1 in Chicago. He was 83.

Born Lee Baker, Jr., he was one of 12 children and left school after the seventh grade to work in sugar cane and cotton fields near their home in Dubuisson, Louisiana. He learned about music from his grandfather, who played banjo, and in the early ’50s moved to Port Arthur, Texas, where he saw live performances by Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown, T-Bone Walker, B.B. King, Long John Hunter, and others, all of whom inspired him to forge a career making music. In the mid ’50s, he recorded several singles under the name Guitar Junior, scoring a string of regional hits including “Family Rules” and “The Crawl” using a sound that combined Chicago blues, rock and roll, Memphis soul, and country twang into a style that became known as “voodoo blues.” The songs’ popularity led to tours playing dance halls, juke joints, and roadhouses across Texas and Louisiana.

In 1959, Brooks befriended R&B singer Sam Cooke, who suggested that Baker move to Chicago. There, he changed his name to Lonnie Brooks (because Muddy Waters’ guitarist was going by “Guitar Junior”) and became infatuated with the sound of the city’s deep blues. He backed singer Jimmy Reed, then cut a handful of singles throughout the ’60s while also playing sessions for blues and R&B artists and gigging each night in bars throughout the city and suburbs. In ’69, Capitol Records released Brooks’ first album (still using the name Guitar Junior), Broke an’ Hungry.

In 1978, Brooks recorded four songs for Alligator Records’ Living Chicago Blues anthology, which led to a contract with the label and the 1979 album Bayou Lightning. It, along with Brooks’ performances, brought him national media attention and the Grand Prix du Disque Award at the 1980 Montreux Jazz Festival. While appearing in Montreux, Brooks befriended country star Roy Clark, who was so impressed he arranged an appearance on “Hee Haw,” the popular television show co-hosted by Clark.

His 1980 live performance of “Sweet Home Chicago” on the Blues Deluxe album earned a second Grammy nomination, then a 1982 trip to Germany resulted in an hour-long special broadcast on German television, and in ’87, BBC radio broadcast an hour-long live performance.

Brooks spent the summer of ’93 on a tour with B.B. King, Buddy Guy, Koko Taylor, Junior Wells, and Eric Johnson. In ’95, Eric Clapton invited him onstage for a jam at Buddy Guy’s Legends club in Chicago. In ’98, he appeared in the film Blues Brothers 2000, performed on “The Late Show With David Letterman” and co-authored (along with his son, Wayne Baker Brooks, and guitarist/music scribe Cub Koda) the book Blues For Dummies.

His final two albums were released in the ’90s – Roadhouse Rules and Lone Star Shootout proved he was still an electrifying guitarist and vocalist who could compose clever songs.

Brooks encouraged and mentored his guitar-playing sons, Wayne and Ronnie Baker Brooks (VG, June ’17). When Ronnie was a teenager, he toured with his dad, and both sons today lead their own bands. In 2011 and ’12, they toured as The Brooks Family Dynasty. Lonnie’s final recording appearance was as a guest on Ronnie’s latest album, Times Have Changed.

In 2001, Brooks was inducted to the Port Arthur Historical Society Hall Of Fame, and entered the Blues Hall Of Fame in 2010. He is survived by four sisters, two brothers, four sons, three daughters, and extended family.

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

Jeff Pilson’s career has included many notable facets. He rose to acclaim in the classic lineup of the hair-metal band Dokken, and since 2004 he has the bassist for classic-rockers Foreigner.

Different genres don’t necessarily make for radically different approaches, and Pilson brought a high-energy approach to Foreigner, in the studio or onstage. Prior to a recent concert during the band’s 40th anniversary tour, he conversed with VG about his experiences and instruments.

Pilson began playing as a youngster in Milwaukee, and later moved to Washington state, where he immersed himself in music.

“I actually started on cello, and I got a bass when I was 12, before I got a guitar,” he said. “It was a Teisco Del Rey with a really tiny neck, and I loved it. I paid $35 for it, and I got a Gibson Skylark amp, also for 35 bucks.”

Asked about early influences, he recalled, “The first guys I listened to were Jack Bruce and a little bit of (John) Entwistle, though that was beyond me at first. So there was a lot of listening to Cream. The first thing I ever learned to play and sing at the same time was ‘Born To Be Wild’ by Steppenwolf. When I was 15, I discovered Chris Squire, and I went over the top – started using a pick instead of my fingers, and learned every note on every Yes album, all the way through Going For The One.”

While playing in Dokken in the early ’80s, Pilson’s primary bass was a Jackson heard on Tooth and Nail, then he gravitated to Fender Precisions by the recording of Under Lock and Key.

“I used to rent a ’61 P-Bass from the Eddie Brauer rental company in L.A., and I bought a ’58 in ’86,” he said. “I also used Ripley basses.”

His current P-Bass is a ’73 with ’66 pickups.

“I found it when I first joined Foreigner. I had my ’58 but didn’t want to take it on the road, and I’d used some reissue ’50s P-Basses. I found this one at a store in L.A.; it felt right and the neck was really solid. I’d tried some ’64 pickups in it that sounded amazing, but they suddenly lost signal, so I replaced them with the ’66 pickups.”

The bass also has a Badass bridge that Pilson installed, and a chrome strip on the forearm bevel was there when he bought the instrument; it’s actually a nameplate that said “Chuck Brown,” though the name has been worn away.

Pilson has a ’71 P-bass for backup in concert, and it, too, has ’66 pickups. He also owns a Candy Apple Red ’64 P-Bass, but rarely gigs with it.

Foreigner has been known to do acoustic/“unplugged” material in concert, and Pilson uses two Breedlove basses for those segments – one fretted, one fretless. He described them as “…amazing and gorgeous. I love the way they feel and play. The company has a love of instruments, which I think is pretty awesome.”

The classic lineup of Dokken reunited in 2016 for a quick one-off tour of Japan.

“That went a lot better than I was expecting,” Pilson recounted. “We had a lot of fun and got along great. It was a very positive experience, and everybody bonded.”

A DVD/CD set from the Japan reunion tour is slated for release this year.

“We also wrote a new song,” he added. “It came out amazing, and we were really pleased. We also did some acoustic versions of some old Dokken tracks.”

Asked about any perceived contradictions in having played in a hard-rock/heavy metal band and the transition to an iconic “arena rock” aggregation, he said, “People will ask, ‘How different is it?’, and I say ‘It’s not as different as you think because Dokken was influenced by Foreigner.’ I was already a Foreigner fan.”

Regarding the evolution of Foreigner over four decades, Pilson said of the current lineup, “We may bring a little more energy or may be a little heavier than the original band, but the principle is the same – heaviness and melody with great hooks.”

Foreigner will be releasing an album in May titled 40 Hits From 40 Years, which will include some newly-record “unplugged” versions of its hits. Pilson predicted more acoustic concerts in Foreigner’s future, as well, and was looking forward to an upcoming performance with an orchestra in Switzerland.

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

Michael Schenker has been part of many live releases over the years, and one of the most intriguing is his latest, Michael Schenker Fest Tokyo, which sees the man known for wielding two-tone Flying Vs reunited with singers Gary Barden, Graham Bonnet, and Robin McAuley, along with ’80s cohorts Steve Mann on keys, Chris Glen on bass, and Ted McKenna on drums. We spoke with him to learn more about the reunion.

What was the impetus for the new release?

In 2015, Michael Schnenker Group had an offer to play in Japan, and the promoter thought of Graham Bonnet’s band opening, then having him sing a couple songs. I went, “Wait a minute… I’ve been performing my most popular music from the past, but not with the original singers. It would be a great idea if I could have all three from the ’80s on one stage.” So, we asked Robin, Gary, and Graham, and they were excited about it. Then I was thinking about putting a band together, and came up with a line-up with Steve, Chris, and Ted – the original rhythm section of Assault Attack with Graham Bonnet.

It was a unique combination, and our first concert was headlining at Sweden Rock, then we went around the world, just from word of mouth via YouTube. After that, we started getting phone calls, including one from Japan to headline Loud Park on closing night. I asked, “Who is doing the first night?” They told me it was the Scorpions, and I said, “Sorry. I can’t. They’re too tricky – always cheeky and weird. I’m going to stay as far away from my brother [Scorpions’ guitarist Rudolf Schenker] as possible.” But immediately, my other promoter in Japan found out about it and made an offer to go to Osaka, Tokyo, and Sapporo. Tokyo immediately sold out. It was an unbelievable venue [Tokyo International Forum] – clean, big, fantastic sound, and great stage. I thought, “I have to capture this on DVD. I cannot just let that go.”

You play an interesting hollowbody Dean V in the DVD.

That’s one of my favorite guitars. It’s really nice and I actually ordered it with a specific idea in mind. I got it around the time of the second Temple of Rock album, Spirit on a Mission, but it didn’t make it in time, so I wasn’t able to use it. But I love that guitar, and decided I’d use it in Graham’s parts [live]. So, it changes things around and marks his part, and Robin gets the black-and-red V, and the black-and-white is for Gary. They’re all great guitars.

I used to have a chrome one and the Michael Schenker Kaleidoscope, which were fantastic, too, but they were stolen. All the guitars that I get from Dean are fantastic. In 2008, I did a promotion tour with Bose speakers, where I played to a backing tape. At each of the 10 appearances, we had a giveaway guitar from Dean, and fresh out of the box, they played fantastically, without any problems. It’s a good thing when you can get a guitar out of a case, with all the plastic on it, pick it up, and it plays. That’s the way they are. I’m so sad about [Dean owner] Elliott Rubinson passing away. He was such a great guy. It’s just… annoying that all these people are dying. And it doesn’t get slower – just goes one after the other.

One of your trademarks is that you don’t use your pinky on your fretting hand.

That happened naturally. People go to school and learn playing guitar – all the technical aspects. But they don’t necessarily do the other part, the feeling part and the stuff that comes from the heart. So, you can learn in school how to play correctly and set your fingers correctly in such a way that makes it possible to play faster. But those things are not important in the world of “handmade rock,” I call it. Handmade rock is basically where you actually play and discover – it’s not practicing scales and using all the fingers, it’s about, “How do you get to the next tone? Where should it come from? What should it sound like? What kind of emotions do you want to put in there? Do you want to make the next tone sing, sustain, break up, hit it more than once with the vibrato?” All these different combinations – you make those choices in the moment when you improvise. So, by not having any rules in my head, I don’t really repeat myself. It’s just what you hear is “the Michael Schenker style.”

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