Wes Montgomery is an iconic guitarist – a titan in the jazz genre. Boasting a style as unique and inimitable as Django Reinhardt or Jimi Hendrix, he burst upon the scene in 1960 and immediately redefined the sound and attitude of modern jazz guitar.

Montgomery’s records for the Riverside label inspired countless musicians before he moved to Verve in ’66, when he widened his sphere of influence with Goin’ Out of My Head to reach a mainstream audience. His affect is unquestionable; Benson, Martino, Metheny, Klugh, Remler, and Whitfield, as well as fusion guitarists Coryell, Scofield, and Ritenour bear marks of the Montgomery sound and style. Moreover, his impact on rock players includes Carlos Santana, Pete Townshend, Robbie Krieger, Eric Johnson, Andy Summers, Steve Vai, Joe Satriani, and Stevie Ray Vaughan. Full House, from the height of his jazz period, is one of his most-celebrated albums. Though jazz albums in the era were largely “live in the studio” blowing sessions, the band’s chemistry and excitement before a live crowd make it a masterpiece.

Montgomery was renowned for the warm, full sound produced with his thumb, which he used instead of a pick. He had a large callous (“corn”) that contributed to the attack and was double-jointed, which facilitated quick alternating strokes, though he predominately favored down strokes. Throughout his career, he preferred Gibson L-5 archtops with very heavy strings (.014-.058). By ’62, he’d acquired a sunburst L-5CES with a Florentine cutaway, PAF pickups, and compensated ebony bridge. He plugged into the new piggyback Fender Bandmaster (pictured on the back of Full House).

Montgomery is recognized for his parallel-octave melodies, which became the prominent identifier of his later pop style, typified by “Tequila,” “California Dreaming,” and “Windy.” In the early ’60s, he used octaves in conjunction with single notes and chord textures to develop a three-tier improvisation approach, progressing logically from single-note lines to octaves then block chords to produce a sense of form and direction in his solos. He took the idea further with improvised passages epitomizing the call-and-response phraseology of the blues or alluding to the chord punches of big bands. This formula was pursued regularly in his Riverside and Verve periods, and is particularly apparent on the Full House track “Cariba.”

“Full House” is a career defining piece that captured and redefined the jazz waltz. Played in a Latin feel for intro and head, the tune exploits an animated 3/4 swing groove for solos. This excerpt (1:41-2:04) presents Wes’ ideas over the bridge’s cycle progression and verse vamp sections, depicting two sides of his musical personality. Note his use of sequential patterns over Bbm7-Eb7 and chord outlining albeit with melodic surprises over the modulating changes. His melodies over the Fm-Bb7 vamp emphasize the marriage of modal extended melodies and blues licks. Wes’ attractive intervallic lines are found in measures 8 and 16, key spots in the progression, adding another dimension to his improvisations. The fast ascending arpeggio motif in 19-20 is a signature sound that occurs in many of his minor-mode flights.

In 1962, Wes won his second readers’ and critics’ polls in Downbeat and he was rapidly ascending in status, which warranted a live album. He had no regular working band, so logistics were daunting. Orrin Keepnews, head of Riverside, devised a touring schedule to coincide with a live recording; Wes played Midwest and East Coast dates in January and February with the Montgomery Brothers, then appeared in Atlanta in March. In April, he played the Tsubo coffeehouse in Berkeley, then in May joined John Coltrane at the Jazz Workshop in San Francisco. By that point, the Bay Area was his second home, and Tsubo offered a particularly relaxed, conducive environment and suitable acoustics.

Keepnews noted that Miles Davis was booked at the Black Hawk with a stellar rhythm section from Kind of Blue – Wynton Kelly (piano), Paul Chambers (bass), and Jimmy Cobb (drums). He arranged a recording session accordingly for Monday, June 25, when the trio had a free night. Though Miles himself balked, his refusal to pay the band on its day off allowed them to record with Wes. Rehearsals were sandwiched between June 22 and 24 and the group was joined by tenor saxophonist Johnny Griffin, who was also in town for the Jazz Workshop and rose to the occasion and was declared a star in his own right. The quintet quickly developed an intuitive and sympathetic working relationship and recorded two 55-minute sets of the same tunes that, when pared down to the best takes and LP length, became Full House.

Wally Heider was recruited to oversee recording and the tracks were mixed live on an Ampex two-track deck; turned-away fans from the crowd were treated to a preview in the parking lot during playback. Heider’s skill and Tsubo’s attentive, enthused audience (club noises were minimal compared to Smokin’ at the Half Note) resulted in one of the sonically best live jazz albums of all time.

The program and content captured the growing dominance of the hard-bop style. Decidedly groove-oriented and with less-blistering tempos, it was earthier and simpler, melodically and harmonically, than previous bebop incarnations. It frequently referenced minor modes with elements of gospel and R&B, and borrowed liberally from the blues to pave the way for soul jazz – the natural outgrowth of earlier styles. It was an aggressive East Coast response to the more cerebral, sedate West Coast “cool jazz.”

Wes’ solo in “Cariba” is one of his finest. He enters at 5:40 after Griffin and builds 11 inspired blues choruses, applying modal and hard-bop shadings as well as customary blues elements. Choruses 4-6 contain definitive examples of his octave style; after his segue from single-note improvisation at 6:27 [A]. He plays Fm7 arpeggios over Bb7–implying typical extensions, outlines an exotic substitution, Bm7-E7, to approach the IV chord Eb7, and then proceeds to mix Bb minor pentatonic and major/minor blues sounds. Wes’ chord work is highly rhythmic, riff-based and so groove conscious it borders on funk. Case in point is the passage at 8:00 (B). Here, he locks into a catchy figure over Bb7 that epitomizes soul-jazz. More varied and colorful jazz voicings are heard over Eb7-Bb7. Note Wes’ trademark use of diminished chords (as symmetrical inversions and chromatic runs) in [B] measures 5-6.

“Full House,” the album’s opener, was the eighth tune recorded. Wes’ jazz-waltz original poses a brief Latin-tinged modal intro riff (also used as the outro) against a bouncy 3/4 vamp groove (Fm7-Bb7) in the main theme (:17). His inherent blues tendencies, pentatonic/hexatonic references, and funky syncopations enhance the tune’s melodic and rhythmic aspects while suiting the underlying, slightly ambiguous F-minor modality. An elegant bridge (:47) supplies contrast with more-defined tonality (cycle-of-fourths progression) and stop-time rhythms. Wes’ solo (1:09) ushers in a related 3/4 swing feel and smoothly progresses from elegant modal/bebop lines to octaves, first as rhythmic punctuations (3:03) and then full extended phrases (3:18-3:57).

“I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face,” a popular Broadway tune from Lerner & Loewe’s “My Fair Lady” became a contemporary standard recorded by countless jazz artists and served as a traditional ballad highlighting Wes’ chord-melody playing. Accompanied by a nearly inaudible rhythm section of bass and drums, he renders a beautiful, understated chordal reading of the verse and chorus sections, highlighting and expanding the unusual changes with his own harmonic variations and substitutions. A striking point of interest typical of Wes’ imaginative tangents is heard in his digression in the eight-bar intro and outro, evoking a haunting Spanish mood with idiomatic droning open-string chords.

“Blue ’N’ Boogie” is a rhythmically active 12-bar blues penned by Dizzy Gillespie. Its inclusion personifies Wes’ jazz-blues predilections and acknowledgement of bebop forebears with its riff-based head (stated in unison and harmony by Montgomery and Griffin) and lengthy virtuosic improvisations of single notes and octaves. Encouraged by their performance in the first set, they increase tempo from 108 to 132 bpm (cut time) in Take 2; simplifying the decision-making procedure reflected in the album’s final playlist. Virtually every track was chosen from the second set and deemed superior, after the first set warm-up. A few choruses of Wes’ solo were edited out for time on the original LP but restored to full length in CD reissues.

“Cariba” was a highlight of the milestone date. Montgomery’s composition juxtaposes a bright Latin-jazz feel on a 12-bar blues in Bb and imbues it with an F-minor modal feel, underscoring the minor-conversion practice emblematic of hard bop. He and Griffin play the theme together (Montgomery in minor-mode block chords and octaves) over the straightforward I-IV-V changes. Wes’ solo is a telling demonstration of his ability to build a moving and effective jazz statement, so driving it borders on Latin rock with improvisations progressing from three choruses of single-note lines to five choruses of octave melodies, transitioning to a chorus of mixed octaves and chord punches, and finally, two choruses of block-chord phrases.

“Come Rain or Come Shine,” was the opener of the sets but is fifth in the LP running order. Harold Arlen’s standard has been a favorite jazz number for years (even covered by Ray Charles and James Brown) and provided an ideal vehicle for Wes’ melodic inventiveness. The faster and more-assured second take was preferred; the first was included in the ’87 CD reissue and provides interesting comparisons. Montgomery plays the simple theme with numerous rhythmic and melodic bop variations; adding octaves to the last eight bars before handing it over to Griffin. Montgomery re-enters at 1:56 and plays one of his most-definitive solos, two 32-bar choruses in single-note bop lines, and two choruses in octaves over a propulsive hard-swing groove enhanced by Cobb’s superb brush work.

“Come Rain or Come Shine,” the classic American Songbook standard, received new life in Wes’ hands. The second half of the first chorus (2:15-2:34) finds him cultivating a number of innovative modern-jazz sounds that are sonic identifiers of his expansion of bebop. Prime among these are the hard-bop minor-conversion substitutions over common changes: Abm7 (hexatonic) over Fm7-Bb7 (measure 1-2), Dm9 and Abm7 over G7 (8-10), Ebm6 over F7 (11-13), and a more-exotic modality over A7 in 7-8. Wes neatly offsets the complexity of these phrases with closure on C blues over Am7b5-D7-Ab7-G7-Cm in 14-16. Note his double-stop riffs and straight pentatonic melody in this section.

“S.O.S.” Wes’ uptempo modern-jazz original, is the track that most closely projects the bebop lineage of Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie. This is heard immediately in an intricate main theme that features spirited interaction, fast, tight unison lines rendered by Montgomery and Griffin, and charging solos by both. The title refers to friend and Bay Area drummer Scotty Oliver Scott. The third take was chosen over the second (implying an initial abortive first exists somewhere, a conundrum considering only two shows were recorded) and the tempo increased from 92 to 100 bpm (cut time).

“Born to be Blue,” Mel Torme’s atmospheric blues ballad, was unissued until CD releases. The arrangement’s problematic ending and Kelly’s playing in the first take were considered inadequate, but were immaculate on the second, yet the song was omitted from the LP for time reasons. In retrospect, both of Montgomery’s performances of the tune were so strong and soulful (and contained some of his finest improvisation) that the decision seems arbitrary today, particularly in light of his cadenza (6:49-7:10) not heard in the earlier take. He overcame the disorganized ending by injecting his improvisational prowess into the second try. A telling example of a jazz player’s quick arranging on the bandstand, Wes re-thought the coda and opted to play a solo guitar cadenza (6:47) of single-note improvisation and chord-melody phrases on the second.

Released in November ’62, Full House was promise fulfilled. All expectations of Montgomery’s vaunted artistry and growing supremacy were realized with the album, which became a beacon in the jazz world, particularly among guitarists. The original LP (the only intentional live album of his career) contained a mere six tracks, while the ’87 remastered CD offered three additional pieces – “Born to Be Blue” and first-set takes of “Come Rain or Come Shine” and “S.O.S.” The 1992 box set Wes Montgomery: The Complete Riverside Recordings added two more alternate takes with fully restored sections,“Born to Be Blue” and “Cariba.” The Complete Full House Recordings (2023) celebrated his centennial with a 14-song program including first takes of “Blue ’N’ Boogie” and “S.O.S.” and Wes’ fully restored solo on “Full House.” Posthumously issued concert recordings reveal Montgomery continued to include “Cariba” in live broadcasts from the Half Note (February, ’65 with Wynton Kelly’s trio). He played “Full House” with his own quartet routinely during a European tour of England, Belgium, France, Holland, and Germany that spring. In April (Paris with guest Johnny Griffin), he included “Blue ’N’ Boogie” (segued into “West Coast Blues”) along with “Full House” to revisit and reignite the potent guitar/sax chemistry on Full House.

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

This article originally appeared in VG’s February 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

Thundering out of Michigan in 1969, Grand Funk Railroad quickly became one of the most popular bands in the world.

In just three years, vocalist/guitarist Mark Farner, bassist Mel Schacher, and vocalist/drummer Don Brewer released five studio albums, became a major concert attraction, and scored Top 40 hits with “I’m Your Captain (Closer to Home),” “Footstompin’ Music,” and “Rock ’N Roll Soul.”

However, change was coming. Manager Terry Knight had produced every GFR album through 1971’s E Pluribus Funk before the band took the reins for Phoenix, which featured guest keyboardist Craig Frost. Farner wasn’t a fan of the self-production approach, so he left it up to Brewer, Schacher, and Frost.

“Too many chefs spoil a stew,” he recently told VG. “I was saying this and they were saying that, so I told them, ‘You guys go ahead and mix it. I would rather have peace of mind and not be fighting.’ I don’t like to argue, I don’t like to bicker. I figured, ‘Hopefully my guitar will be heard.’”

In the run-up to 1973’s We’re An American Band, they made Frost an official member, hired Todd Rundgren to serve as producer, and shortened their name to Grand Funk. Coinciding with the reinvention, they even floated the idea of poaching Peter Frampton from tour openers Humble Pie before he signed with A&M as a solo act. The alterations kicked the band to an even higher level, as the album reached #2 on Billboard on its way to selling more than a million copies; the title track became their first to top the Hot 100 singles chart.

Farner recalls that the changes and the band’s musical approach weren’t part of any strategy.

“There was never, ever any consideration or planning,” he said. “It was just the evolutionary change of getting older and maturing. Those are the songs that come out of you at that time in your life.

“I was actually against adding anyone,” he noted in regard to personnel. “I liked the three-piece lineup, but I was outvoted, and Craig was my friend. He still is.”

The importance of the producer’s role – leading the sessions and forcing the band to focus – was a major reason they brought Rundgren in for American Band; they also considered Rick Derringer and Frank Zappa.

“When it was down to Rundgren and Zappa, we threw their names in a hat,” Farner said, adding that Zappa got his turn on 1976’s Good Singin’ Good Playin’.

American Band was recorded with all four in the room, playing together.

“We played live, just like any other time we cut an album,” remembered Farner. “We had it rehearsed because we didn’t want to spend a lot of time and money in a studio. We were very frugal.”

He credits Rundgren’s production for giving the album Grand Funk’s true sound.

“When we played live, we had a sound. It was undeniable – people loved it, came to see it and bathe in it – and he got that on the record. Terry never did that; all the studio albums he did were just that – studio albums. But with Rundgren, the tonalities and the way he used compression gave it more life. And I am a tone maniac – I have to have my tone. He appreciated that.”

The title track was created with a push from management, who wanted the band to do an autobiographical song. Written and sung by Brewer with (uncredited) assistance from Farner, it became a #1 smash and the band’s anthem.

“Brewer came in with the lyrics. I wrote the chord changes and I told him we needed cowbell on it. He said, ‘I don’t have a cowbell.’ I said, ‘But it’s screaming for one. Think of all the hit records that have cowbell, and if we start this with a drum riff and cowbell, man, it would be killer.’ He said, ‘I’ll pick one up.’ I said, ‘Pick up six of them and we’ll find one that matches best, tone-wise, to the chord that starts the song.’ So, he did. We picked one, and it was a very memorable sound that matched the key of D very well.

“Then I taught Don the drum lick on the intro, because I could hear it in my head; I conveyed it to him and he said, ‘Man, I can’t do that.’ I said, ‘Do you know who you are? You’re Don Brewer!’ He practiced, and within three days he had it.”

We’re an American Band” was the first song cut on the first day, was mixed and mastered the second day, and quickly released. The single was shooting up the charts while the rest of the album was still being recorded. Its other hit, “Walk Like a Man,” a hard-charging, R&B-influenced rocker, brought an odd lawsuit.

“I had worked on the music before the guys got to rehearsal; Brewer wrote the lyrics, and the Four Seasons sued us because they had a song titled ‘Walk Like A Man.’ So here I am in depositions with their attorneys, who asked me, ‘Why did you say this?’ And I said, ‘I didn’t. I wrote the music. The music doesn’t come close to the Four Seasons. You’ll have to ask the drummer.’ Finally, they looked at each other and threw up their hands.”

Before the sessions, Farner had retired the well-known Musicraft Messenger he modified to prevent feedback by stuffing it with foam and covering the sound holes with tape. In its place, he played a custom-made Gibson L5-S.

“I got to pick the wood from their racks in a temperature-controlled, humidity-controlled warehouse,” he said. “That L5-S sang its tunes!”

This article originally appeared in VG’s February 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

One of the truly classic rock albums, Led Zeppelin’s IV brought together the band’s towering advances achieved with its first three releases. An extraordinary amalgam of blues-rock, progressive aspirations, heavy-metal antecedents, lingering psychedelic overtones, uncommon acoustic colorations, and imaginative orchestration, it remains iconic. Taking cues from – but surpassing – the second wave of the British Invasion – Yardbirds, Who, Cream, Jeff Beck Group – Zep redirected rock’s trajectory in the late 1960s and became the transcendent band of the ’70s.

Zep withdrew from touring in late 1970 and convened at Bron-Yr-Aur cottage in Wales to compose and concentrate on new music. Produced by Jimmy Page and recorded between that December and February of ’71, then continued at Island Records’ Basing Street studios in London. The quartet moved to the more-conducive setting of Headley Grange, an historic country workhouse offering seclusion and an informal environment where creativity could flourish. Serving earlier as rehearsal space for Fleetwood Mac and others, it had not yet been used for recording. The Stones’ Mobile Studio with engineer Andy Johns, assisted by pianist Ian Stewart, captured their efforts. Tapes were taken to Island for overdubbing in February and mixed in April at Sunset Sound in Hollywood. Following playback at Olympic, Page deemed the mixes inadequate and remixed the entire album that July, relying on several favorite instruments including the ’59 Les Paul Standard acquired from Joe Walsh in ’69 and his ’59 “Dragon” Telecaster gifted by Jeff Beck while both were in the Yardbirds. He also played a mid-’60s Harmony Sovereign H1260 for the acoustic parts on “Stairway to Heaven,” a ’66 Fender Electric XII, ’66 Vox Phantom XII, mid-’60s Danelectro 3012, and an MSA Classic D-12 pedal steel. Amplification consisted of two 100-watt Marshall heads with 4×12 cabinets, a ’69 JMP Super Bass, and ’68 Super Lead, He also favored a 35-watt ’59 Supro Coronado 1690T 2×10″ combo. While an imposing array of Marshall stacks dominated Zep shows, Page had a penchant for recording with small amps, thoughtfully miked to achieve a big sound. He also played some guitar parts direct to the board, without effects.

Riff making is a central tenet of metal. “Black Dog” underscored Zep’s ability to transform a typical blues riff into an atypical musical event. You can practically hear the genre evolving in the course of the figure; begun by accessing traditional blues roots (unmistakable references to Albert King’s “Oh Pretty Woman” and Howlin’ Wolf) and reshaped into an asymmetric, rhythmically complex ensemble line. Progressive tendencies and intricacy endemic to modern metal are evident in the mixed time signatures and unpredictability. This excerpt presents two related verse riffs acting as responses to Plant’s vocals. The longer phrase (measure 7) thematically expands fragments of measures 2-5 but still ends on a syncopated resounding A5 power chord. Its rhythmical idiosyncrasies are tethered and supported by Bonham’s solid half-time drum beat.

“Black Dog” was the first song recorded, and the first single (released December ’71). Immortalizing an errant black Labrador wandering Headley’s grounds, it was begun at Island on December 5, revisited at Headley and completed in February at Island. Its introductory noises were a “sonic collage” of recorded guitar fragments personifying Page’s affinity for unpredictably. Robert Plant’s lyrics portrayed eroticism, lust, and betrayal with allusions to the bluesman’s mythos of devil’s music. The oblong blues-based riff, composed by John Paul Jones and Page, exuded progressive-rock eccentricity in the meandering mixed 2/4, 4/4, and 5/4 meters, establishing a dramatic call-and-response effect in verses reminiscent of Fleetwood Mac’s “Oh Well.” Though the riffs had a motorific unison intent, a looseness akin to live blues surfaced in Page’s delightfully out-of-sync execution (0:41-:47) and were expanded with parallel-third harmony at 3:05-3:23. He doubled several lines, triple-tracked rhythm guitars for a larger stereo picture, and ran his ’Burst through compressors and other studio processors to create the thick, distorted effect. However, he recorded his outro solo direct, without an amp.

“Rock and Roll,” a collaboration with Stewart on piano, grew from an impromptu jam captured in three or four takes while momentarily abandoning “Four Sticks” (with which it was paired as the second single). John Bonham developed the drum intro from Little Richard’s “Keep A-Knockin’” and Page responded with an elongated 24-bar blues structure showcasing his updated boogie-woogie feel and heavily distorted Chuck Berry rhythm figure delivered at 170 bpm. A favorite live tune (used as opener from ’72 to ’74 and encore with “Whole Lotta Love” through ’77), it became a bar-band standard (covered live by Van Halen and Hagar) and entered mainstream culture as part of a Cadillac ad campaign in 2001.

“The Battle of Evermore,” composed at Headley by Page on Jones’ mandolin (his first try on the instrument) in one sitting, featured an appearance by Fairport Convention singer Sandy Denny (the only female vocalist on a Zep album, she was accorded her own symbol in its artwork). The title referenced Scottish Independence Wars in the 13th and 14th centuries, but Plant’s lyrics projected an otherworldly quality, conjuring Tolkien’s middle-earth fantasies. The arrangement is folk-oriented with Celtic undertones akin to a medieval string consort, droning and sparse but propulsive given its instrumentation – Page on mandolin(s) and acoustic guitar behind a duet of Plant (as narrator) and Denny (as town crier urging peace).

“Stairway to Heaven” emerged during Zep’s Bron-Yr-Aur brainstorming. Written by Page over several months, it was shaped from ideas preserved as bits on cassette recordings. The semi-classical jazz-inflected intro figure was extant in the December sessions at Island (where the song was ultimately completed). Sixty percent of Plant’s remarkable lyrics were written at one sitting. A basic track at Headley consisted of Bonham (drums), Jones (electric piano) and Page (acoustic guitar).

This example from “Rock and Roll” depicts Page’s adventurous, innovative soloing. Taking the fundamental language of blues-rock beyond the territory pioneered by Bluesbreakers, Yardbirds, Cream, and Hendrix, Page adds uncommon chromaticism in the ascent of measures 5-6 to intensify the change to the IV chord D. This quirky but functionally powerful move stands in stark contrast to the surrounding blues licks, pull-off patterns, and more-familiar pentatonic material. The marriage of melodic twists with common blues lines proved influential; hints of the concept are heard in the playing of Angus Young, Michael Schenker, Ed Van Halen, Randy Rhoads, et al.

“I elected to take this to Island Number One in London,” Page explained. “We’d had a lot of high-energy playing at Headley, but I felt the sombre environment of a large studio would better suit the temperament of ‘Stairway.’”

His thought was born out by the song’s textured, large-scale arrangement, terraced dynamics, and layered orchestration. Every member contributed; Jones on recorder(s), Page on acoustic, and Plant’s vocal in the opening section, a light prelude building to fuller orchestration with Page’s Vox and Fender 12-strings (panned right and left), heavier electric instruments and Bonham’s drum entrance. The climax is defined by hard-rock rhythms, thicker timbres, and Page’s melodic-metal solo, recorded (as was his practice) as a finishing touch played on his Tele, possibly through his Supro and accompanied by overdubbed steel and slide guitars. The arrangement’s complexity necessitated Page’s use of a Gibson EDS-1275 doubleneck onstage. The piece blended folk, progressive and hard rock, and, at more than eight minutes, was never a single. However, it led to IV essentially selling as a single and became an anthem – the stereotypical rock ballad and the most played track on U.S. radio – praised by classical conductor Herbert Von Karajan as “almost perfect.”

“Misty Mountain Hop,” originally a guitar piece, was developed by Page and Jones in Headley’s sitting room and became the B-side of “Black Dog.” The opening riff was translated from guitar to electric piano-guitar-bass ensemble, Jones supplied keyboard chords in the chorus while Page crafted a harmony-guitar interlude (2:39-3:08) and Plant resurrected hippie-era lyrics alluding to a ’68 Legalize Pot Rally in London, with reference to “Misty Mountains” from Tolkien’s The Hobbit. The entire song came together quickly.

“Stairway to Heaven” may contain a “forbidden” guitar passage in the intro, but Page’s guitar solo remains one of the most memorable and imitated pieces of melodic metal. His producer role and session experience affected his approach. It’s a thoughtful statement, exemplified by his merging of pentatonic blues with modality rendered with rock attitude over a vamping Am to Fmaj7 progression. Note the consistent targeting of the color tone F throughout; expanding the garden-variety blues A minor pentatonic lines into Aeolian modal melody to address Fmaj7. Page recorded three extemporaneous passes at Island and agonized over the selection. “I did have the first phrase worked out as well as the link phrase,” he said. “I checked them out before the tape ran.”

“Four Sticks,” named for Bonham’s unusual use of four drum sticks (two in each hand), embodied Zep’s abstract tangents. Page’s hypnotic raga-like guitar riff (double tracked), modality in the droning E-A-G power-chord sonorities, fluctuating 5/8 and 12/8 meters, and heavily compressed drum parts contribute to the world-music cum hard-rock attitude. Imaginative orchestration punctuates the arrangement at 1:02 and 2:11 with contrasting timbres of acoustic guitar, electric 12-strings, and Jones’ EMS VCS3 synthesizer (emulating strings and woodwinds and generating the buzzing sawtooth-wave line at 3:04). Too modern for its day, some critics dismissed “Four Sticks” as “messy.” Nonetheless, it presaged the textures, sonics, and asymmetric grooves associated with The Police and techno-pop electronica a decade later.

“Going to California” grew out of another jam at Headley. Initially called “Guide to California,” the ballad was partially inspired by California’s earthquakes and Joni Mitchell’s “I Had a King.” Coincidentally, Page, manager Peter Grant, and Andy Johns experienced a minor earthquake while mixing in L.A. The song struck a distinctive folk mood with no electric instruments, drums, or rhythm section, instead multiple acoustic guitars in Double Drop D tuning (D-A-D-G-B-D), Page’s colorful Travis-picked chord arpeggiations and simple melody lines, along with Jones’ mandolin accompanying Plant’s plaintive vocals.

“When the Levee Breaks,” originally titled “If It Keeps Raining,” began at Plant’s suggestion as a cover of the 1929 country-blues classic by Kansas Joe and Memphis Minnie about Mississippi’s Great Flood of ’27. Plant reused some lyrics (credit was given to Minnie) and Page composed a complimentary riff in an open tuning; Minnie used Open G while Page adopted C-F-C-F-A-C (down one step) or possibly slowed the tape. Moreover, Page and Jones chose a vamping modal treatment instead of a standard 12-bar blues with I-IV-V chord changes. The band cultivated an appropriately down-home atmosphere with a simple repeated dyad riff, slide guitar parts, wailing harmonica, and Plant’s occasional Howlin’ Wolf impressions. However, the most striking aspect (apart from Page’s electric 12-string licks momentarily evoking a Stones-like pop-rock flavor) was the very live/vibrant drum sound; achieved by recording Bonham’s kit in Headley’s large tiled entrance hall. Two Beyerdynamic M 160 mics were hung on the staircase and routed to Helios F760 compressors. Per Johns, it was the first time anyone used only room mics for drums.

Inspired by the sound, Page immediately began overdubbing slide parts on his Danelectro, added backward guitars, 12-string, harmonica, guitar with reverse echo, and relied on other studio wizardry to “build a dense glue around the drums, all done at Headley.” It was the only Sunset Sound mix retained for the album, and reviewers hailed the piece as “an apocalyptic urban blues” and “momentous hard-rock blues [that] transcends previous quasi-parodic overstatements of blues songs [and] having the grandeur of a symphonic crescendo” while maintaining an authentic blues feel. An earlier version was recorded in 1970 and was released as “If It Keeps Raining” on the 2015 reissue of Coda.

Enigmatic artwork deepened the inscrutable quality of IV. The cover featured a 19th-century picture of an old thatcher toting a load of branches, hung on a distressed wall, juxtaposed against a modern photo of Salisbury Tower apartments on the back. Together, they conveyed a past/present-country/city dichotomy. Four pictograms, largely developed from runes, and a Barrington Coleby painting of The Hermit from The Tarot appeared inside underscoring occult imagery. Called “Four Symbols” (describing each member with metaphors expressing Zep’s collective musical soul), “ZoSo” (Page’s self-designed symbol) or simply “Untitled,” IV was released November 8, 1971, with no group shot or name. A powerful, innovative album by any name, it remains one of the best-selling (more than 37 million units and counting) and most-impactful works of all time.

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

This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

In February of 1968, Albert King stepped onto the stage of San Francisco’s Fillmore Auditorium for the first time. With the Jimi Hendrix Experience headlining, John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers featuring 19-year-old Mick Taylor, and King as opener, the evening was an embarrassment of guitar riches.

“I’d never heard of him,” says Robben Ford, who was 16 at the time. “We arrived after the show had started, and Albert was playing a slow blues – so slow and quiet. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. I was transfixed and transformed. It changed the way I felt and approached playing a slow blues.”

The bastion of hippiedom was unlike any venue Albert had played, but he soon earned a nickname as “the flower power blues guitarist.” As Rolling Stone’s Jerrold Greenberg wrote, “Albert King was the only consummate artist among them, the only one who could play on the full emotional range of his audience with as much facility as he used to sustain a note on his guitar.”

Born Under A Bad Sign was compiled from singles released by Stax the two previous years, fleshed out with five new tunes, all backed by Booker T. & the M.G.’s.

In a 1977 King cover story in Guitar Player, Mike Bloomfield said, “He was the only bluesman I know of who had a completely comfortable synthesis with modern black music, R&B so to speak, and sold copiously to a black audience as well as the white audience. He was the only singer who had clever, modern arrangements that would fit in with the black radio market and in no way compromised his style. That’s sort of amazing, in that B.B. King never did it except once with ‘Thrill Is Gone,’ but Albert did it time after time.”

In a 1978 interview, M.G.’s rhythm guitarist Steve Cropper credited drummer Al Jackson with transforming country bluesman Tommy McClennan’s “Cross Cut Saw Blues.” “It has a sort of slop, bloopy, crazy kind of lick that was Al’s innovation. Consequently, it made everybody else play a little differently. The only one who didn’t play differently would be Albert King – who played like Albert King.”

Citing Blind Lemon Jefferson and T-Bone Walker as influences, King said, “It really got me into the bent-note sound when T-Bone Walker came. That was the sound I was looking for, because he had incredible blues sound. And the things he was making, I couldn’t do. I said, ‘I’m going to have to do something with these strings.’ So I developed that string-squeezing sound.”

But King’s style was completely his own, dictated in part by him being left-handed and playing a right-handed guitar. Unlike Hendrix, who would restring his guitar so that he was playing normally for a southpaw (highest strings nearest the floor), Albert actually played upside-down and backward, with the highest strings closest to his chin. Other “backward” lefty guitarists include Otis Rush, Dick Dale, Eric Gales, Bobby Womack, Barbara Lynn, and Doyle Bramhall, II.

Producer/engineer Terry Manning worked with Stax artists as well as ZZ Top, Big Star, and Led Zeppelin. He explains, “The way Albert would bend, he’d take those high strings and pull them down, which gave him a different, unique vibrato.”

Born in Indianola, Mississippi, on April 25, 1923, King made his first guitar out of a cigar box. His first legitimate guitar, a Guild acoustic, didn’t come until he was 18.

“Because I couldn’t make the changes and the chords the same as a right-handed man could, I played a few chords, but not many,” he said. “I always concentrated on my singing guitar sound – more of a sustained note.”

With a $125 Epiphone electric, in 1953 he traveled to Gary, Indiana, and was hired as Jimmy Reed’s drummer.

In the words of Billy Gibbons, “Albert King, suffice it to say, resonates today as was heard after stepping out from behind the drum kit and latching onto his six-string thing – that being his original Gibson Flying V, right off the ’50s production line. It fit perfectly with Albert’s left-hand approach to slinging a wealth of stinging solos in his inimitable style.”

Beginning in ’54, King sporadically released singles on small labels, with only one charting effort in “Don’t Throw Your Love On Me So Strong,” a #14 R&B. His guitar style was already quite developed, but the arrangements and playing rose several notches when he landed at Stax.

“Those first two Stax releases feature hit after hit, track-by-track, with Albert carving a personality, turning out some of the most memorable works of his recording career,” says Gibbons. “His perfect guitar and vocal delivery were simply hard to beat.”

The effect of the hip arrangements, guitar hooks, and solos was immediate. The first seven syllables of “As The Years Go Passing By” provided the riff for “Layla,” and Eric Clapton grafted the solo from “Oh, Pretty Woman” into Cream’s “Strange Brew.” “The Hunter” was covered by Ike and Tina Turner, Free, and Blue Cheer, and Led Zeppelin snuck a verse into “How Many More Times.” In “Personal Manager” – the only track longer than four minutes – Albert’s sweeping bends built a dramatic two-chorus solo.

“He was a huge, immense man, and his hands would just dwarf his Flying V,” Bloomfield observed. “He played with his thumb, and played horizontally, across the fretboard, as opposed to vertically. If he had to go seven frets, he’d bend the guitar seven frets!”

Soon, King was playing festivals and headlining Fillmore shows, with Live Wire/Blues Power recorded at the ballroom in June of ’68. David Grissom feels, “It captured him in all his glory. The title track is a slow-blues masterclass. His voice, hands, and heart held immense power, made even more effective by his sense of restraint and economy. He transformed a pentatonic scale into a symphony, and his use of ‘in-between’ notes – bending just shy of the next interval – opened up the vocabulary of the guitar for me.”

The uptempo instrumental “Night Stomp” was another tour de force.

Typically, Albert used an Acoustic amp onstage, but Manning remembers, “In the studio, we had a Fender Showman, a Bassman, and a Deluxe. He didn’t seem to care. He’d reach over, plug in, and start playing.”

There’s debate over how King tuned his guitar, which was C#m. But he could pick up a guitar in standard tuning, flip it over, and sound the same as always.

As for details like strings, he shrugged, “I used to use Black Diamonds, light gauge on the first, second, and third, with a wrapped G, and then heavy gauge on the bass strings. And I usually play with both pickups on the guitar, with the treble turned up.”

Dan Erlewine, who built Albert’s custom-inlaid V in ’72, reports that his G string was a flatwound.

Bloomfield observed, “If you listen to those Stax records, his guitar was always very loud, right out front.”

“It’s Albert-blanking-King!” Manning concurs. “Of course I’m going to turn him up. Each note was played with such importance, and meant so much. It’s so cool, it’s got to be loud.”

Manning engineered King’s subsequent tribute to Elvis Presley and Jammed Together, coupling him with Cropper and Pops Staples. In fact, on Terry’s original “Trashy Dog,” he provides the backup behind Albert’s lead.

“I hear the influence of Albert King in my fellow blues guitarists generally more than that of any other of the blues guitar greats, including B.B. King,” Ford reflects. “Somehow, he seemed to communicate so directly with his playing that you couldn’t resist the power of it. It shows up in your playing without even thinking about it.”

Along with Hendrix, devotees include Joe Walsh, John Mayer, Stevie Ray Vaughan (as on David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance”), and Mark Knopfler’s work on Dylan’s Slow Train Coming.

King toured until 1992, the year he died at age of 69. His gravestone reads, “Albert King played the blues for the world, and forever changed the way the world would play the blues.”

This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.