The story is a familiar one. A guy learns to repair amps and then gets frustrated with the shortcomings of the stock amps available. So he starts offering modifications to existing amps before going off the deep end. That’s when he gets the hare-brained idea to get into building amps from scratch.
Unlike most of this ilk, Tone Pump’s Scott Lorensberg is a true electrical engineer, not just a weekend tinkerer. So it follows that his designs are not just one man’s take on classic, oft-cloned schematics. Rather, they’re novel designs that provide interesting mixes of old and new. The Class A, single-ended 1×12 Tone Pump Solara Studio is one of Lorensberg’s six offerings.
The 12-watt Solara Studio is housed in a Tweed Deluxe-sized cabinet, but a variety of custom-colored tolex and tweed options are the first hints that this is not a simple 5E3 copy. (The review amp arrived sporting a sea-foam green tolex covering.) The Solara Studio utilizes a single EL34 in the power section, along with a 12AX7 in V1, followed by an EF86 in the V2 position. The EF86 in the V2 position allows it to add some of its forceful sonic flavor and higher gain without making it prone to becoming microphonic (usually the case when an EF86 is used in the all-important V1 position). The tone section consists of Treble and Bass knobs rounded out by a single Volume control and an off/on switch. Input 1 utilizes a single triode, while input 2 uses a parallel triode to produce higher gain and a different tonal palette. The Solara Studio’s speaker is a low-efficiency Weber DT-12, which has a more rounded high end that allows the amp to get dirtier at lower volumes as well as provide a smoother high-end character. (It never hurts to use a speaker that was designed for Derek Trucks.)
We tested the Tone Pump Solara Studio using a stock ’67 Telecaster and a ’69 ES-335. Plugging in, we were quite surprised by the amp’s full and ringing clean tone. While most single-power tube amps tend to be weak in the low end, and really only excel at amplifying highs and a boxy midrange, the Solara Studio exhibited a full, round, and useable clean tone. Furthermore, we would classify this tone (with its hint of extra mids) as being in the early-’60s low-powered Fender brown camp.
Handily, the tone controls are able to either boost or cut highs or lows, as they are “flat” at the 12 o’clock position. While plugged into input 1, and keeping the Volume knob lower than 12 o’clock, we were able to get rounded, throaty, swing tones with only a hint of sweet breakup from the neck pickup on our 335. Shifting the volume up, the Solara Studio gave way to a barking and, again, brown-sounding overdriven tone. And by simply lightening our touch or laying off the guitar’s volume a bit, we were back to the clean sound that drew us in to begin with. Moving to input 2 bumped up the volume and dirt level, while also giving the amp’s tone a harder “fist.”
Moving on to the Tele and back to input 1, we easily dialed in a great Memphis/Muscle Shoals Tele bridge-pickup tone by cutting a bit of treble and boosting some lows that were unnecessary with the fatter 335. Goosing the volume moved the tonal center across the pond with a plexi-like tone; changing to input 2 gave our fairly moderate-output Tele a great rock guitar tone.
The Tone Pump Solara Studio novel design surprised us with its ability to produce a full, clean sound and, with a little goosing of the Volume knob, a barky, brown Deluxe meets plexi-styled dirty tone. These qualities and a touch sensitivity that lets you go easily from those cleans to dirties without relying on pedals make for an excellent amp equally suited for the studio, the practice space, and low-volume gigs.
This article originally appeared in VG May 2015 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
• Preamp tubes: three 12AX7, one 12AT7 • Output tubes: two 6L6, cathode-bias • Rectifier: 5U4 • Controls: Volume and Tone on each of two channels, tremolo Intensity and Speed • Speakers: two Jensen Special Design P12RL 12″ • Output: approximately 30 watts RMS Photo and amp courtesy of Duke Kelso.
Sometimes it takes just the slightest aesthetic twist to get an amp nut all worked up. This 1960 Premier Twin 12 is a case in point; over the years, Premier also made these amps with a straight-edged front fascia, but somehow we’re much more excited to dive into this one, with the “widow’s peak” front panel, right?
Any such unique stylistic touch, when it worked visually, was a clever move back then, and it’s still a clever move now.
Even if it was a sonic dud we’d probably still want it lounging in the corner of our amp room; that it actually packs some nifty and original tone just makes its looks seem all the hipper.
Consider that Link Wray used an earlier Premier Model 71 to record “Rumble” and you’re starting to hint at the sonic lineage of this Twin 12. This later combo arguably has a lot more going for it, though, and is a more-advanced, more-versatile amplifier, while still packing as much vintage tube-amp mystique as you’re likely to want from any alternative to the “big four” (call ’em Fender, Vox, Gibson and Marshall, if that isn’t obvious by now). And if any “widows peak” Premier Twin 12 is going to be a pretty groovy amp, this one – owned by Duke Kelso – is just ungodly clean on top of it all. In addition to being one of the most pristine exteriors we’ve ever seen on a 50-plus-year-old amplifier (our editor’s first comment: “This is a reissue, right?” Wrong!), the control panel is gleaming, the knobs unsullied, and the interior entirely spotless. The speakers look like they just came out of a box marked “Jensen Vintage Reissue,” and even the two-prong AC plug looks like it has rarely seen a socket. In addition to all this, the tubes remain the same bottles the amp shipped with – three Telefunken 12AX7s, a Telefunken 12AT7, two GE “black-plate” 6L6GCs (one of the ultimate 6L6s), and a Multivox-branded GE 5U4 rectifier tube.
Condition anywhere close to this is a real bonus with a Premier amp, because, while they look great and can sound extremely cool in a “gnarly vintage alternative” kind of way, they weren’t robustly built amps to begin with, to say the least. Chassis were, if not entirely flimsy, rather thin-gauged; cabinetry was lightweight (as you can see by the narrow cross-section in the rear), and the covering was of the easily-shredded stickum-type paper used to adorn cheap furniture or line kitchen drawers in the ’50s. With that in mind, it really takes some babying to keep one in new condition like this, making this sweetie all the more of a rarity. But if the box isn’t entirely roadworthy, build quality isn’t bad at all. Manufactured in New York by the Multivox company, it is B-grade circuitry, really, but not badly put together – arranged on two narrow terminal boards that will look familiar to anyone with much knowledge of Valco-made amplifiers from Chicago, or other makes of the ilk. Components are all standard-grade, with cheaper ceramic-disc capacitors in most signal-coupling positions, and generally fairly routine circa-1960 consumer-grade-electronics wiring, too; all the stuff you might also find in your mid-level 1960 entertainment center.
1960 Premier Twin 12
Add it all up, though, and guitarists who dig this kind of thing know that B-grade product can yield A-grade tone, if you’re fond of the less-familiar flavors. “This amp has a clear upper-midrange focus, cutting through the mix – it stands its ground,” Kelso tells us. “Rolling back the Tone control brings smooth, buttery rhythm and jazz tones with rich fundamentals… Yet, when pushed, it delivers the raunch and edge that bring it to a level all its own.”
In addition to the two individual channels with independent Volume and Tone controls, the Twin 12 has a really tasty tremolo with a speed range that takes you from hypnotically slow to wrenchingly fast. As a clever bonus to all this, its “Two Channel Input” jumpers both preamps together to bring on the grind even faster. And again, damn, it really is such a stylish thing on the outside, however it’s built – from the subtly sparkling zig-zag grillecloth, to the golden-brown hammer-finish chassis and matching footswitch, to the multi-colored control knobs and textured gold control panel… mmm-hmmm. On top of that, while Multivox clearly had to bring these Premier builds in on a budget, they didn’t just sling the things together, and little signs of an effort at quality are posted all around the Twin 12. Daubs of reddish-brown lacquer indicate build completion or quality-check points on all nut/bolt connections throughout the amp (none of which appear to ever have been broken), several of the tube sockets are shock-insulated with rubber mounting grommets, and perhaps most obvious of all, the amp carries a pair of tasty Jensen P12RL Alnico speakers (the “L” denoting a lower-frequency variant of the standard P12R, but what the heck).
Aside from Link Wray’s logging of a legendary early performance on a Premier, these amps have often had a bigger buzz in the harp world. Something about basic designs and cheap circuits seems to go hand-in-hand with the raw, reed-like tone that many blues harmonica players are looking for when they plug in their Hi-Z dynamic mic, and plenty of Premier models deliver that in spades. The Twin 8 has probably been the most popular in this category – its two little 8″ speakers connecting with another harp-certified touch point – but this 2×12″ combo will get your green bullet smokin’, too. Then again, just plug in your late-’50s or early-’60s catalog guitar, jumper the channels, set tremolo to throb, and go at it six-string style, and there’s a good chance the resultant tone will get your guitar work noticed, too.
This article originally appeared in VG February 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Joanna Connor courtesy of M.C. Records.Her overnight success was decades in the making, but a video gone viral of a jaw-dropping slide guitar performance at the 2014 North Atlantic Blues Festival has helped bring Joanna Connor to the world. With nearly a half a million views, the performance displays scholarly blues virtuosity and crowd-pleasing pyrotechnics. In recent years, she has kept a lower profile, but her music catalog reaches back to the late ’80s. She holds a residency at Kingston Mines blues club in Chicago, but be forewarned – Connor plays blues her way.
That video has gone crazy viral.
I’m surprised by the whole thing. I didn’t know the video existed. Back in November, it had 100,000 views. Three weeks later, everything started to go crazy. I was getting calls from filmmakers, “America’s Got Talent,” guitar companies, and booking agents from all over the world. It’s been pretty funny. People are coming out to clubs who’ve never been to Kingston Mines. I was in shock. It’s like a Cinderella story.
Your background is in traditional acoustic slide.
I was fortunate to find a teacher who taught me early blues like Blind Blake, Son House, and Memphis Minnie. He was a Ry Cooder fanatic. Because of my mom, I listened to a lot of different kinds of music. She always talked about Taj Mahal and Ry Cooder. She also liked The Beatles and Jimmy Cliff. Then Led Zeppelin came along. Then James Brown and disco came along. I listened to so many different things.
In the ’70s, everything was on the radio; Steely Dan was the top thing you’d hear. Musical influences of all kinds were in my head. I liked everything. It was no big deal to go from Led Zeppelin to James Brown and The Eagles. My mom took me to see Buddy Guy when I was 10 years old, so all this stuff was floating around in my head.
I started singing in bands when I was 17. We covered everything from Neil Young, Western swing, and blues. I grew up in Massachusetts playing classic ’50s-style Chicago blues. It’s been a journey.
How does that fit into your live shows?
A lot of blues purists complain about what I do. I can’t turn off all the things I’ve heard all my life. It would be unnatural to me. I want to play blues, but I want to interject things that are in my head. The “blues Nazis” do not dig it at all.
I’ve never been a favorite in the blues world. The W.C. Handy Awards never reached out to me, but that was okay. When I play in Chicago, I want to give them that piece of the traditional because I love that stuff, but I don’t want to be limited to that. I offend a lot of people, but that’s okay because I’m used to it (laughs).
How so?
I offend them with my choice of music, because I’m loud, proud, and a big lady. I’ve always had a band that played all over the map musically. I rub people the wrong way, but other people love it because it’s so different. There are “sweethearts” in the blues world, but they couldn’t hold a gig in Chicago. In Chicago, they don’t go for that.
I love Debbie Davies, Sue Foley, and Samantha Fish, but they’re not rattling too many chains. They do what they do and that’s their choice. They usually have an all-white band and they’re not offensive to anybody. I’m not knocking them, but they play it safe. As an artist, you have to be true to what feels good to you.
In my band, I go by who gives me the groove. My band is all black. We’ll do straight up Stax or Al Green. I have a rhythm guitarist who knows all that stuff. Then we’ll play Led Zeppelin. It freaks some people out. My mother was politically active, loved music, and I grew up with The Black Panthers in my living room, Women’s Liberation, and jazz musicians (laughs).
Which gear do you use?
My only guitar is a Les Paul 1960s reissue that I got in 1990. It’s set up with low action for regular leads. That comes from being a backup player for so many singers. I also use a Digitech Hot Rod distortion pedal, a Boss Chorus, and a Rocktron Short Timer Delay. I use house equipment for amps, either a Victoria or a Fender Twin.
What’s next?
Right now, I’m in negotiation with a new label and releasing a live album. I have an agent again, so there’s more festival gigs coming. My daughter will be in college in 2016, so I’ll be free to travel more.
This article originally appeared in VG August 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
K775V Kay Jazz II and K5970V Jazz Special
Price: $1,495 (K775V Jazz II electric guitar); $1,150 (K5970V Jazz Special electric bass)
Info: www.kayvintagereissue.com
First heralded for their acoustics and upright basses, Kay made its mark with electric guitars played by Eric Clapton and Paul McCartney. Kay Vintage Reissue recalls that era with its K775V Jazz II and K5970V bass.
The K775V has an all-maple body with multi-ply flame top, back, and sides, has multi-ply black and white celluloid binding for just the right hint of class. Finished with a high-gloss poly, it has a set maple neck with single-ply binding. Its 26″-scale is adorned with 20 medium nickel-silver frets, and the rosewood fingerboard has a 12″ radius with six sharkfin inlays. Topping the neck is a headstock with the classic gold chevron and “Kelvinator” logo. Three-to-a-side Grover Rotomatics and the truss-rod cover bearing Roger Fritz’s signature indicate this is not the average catalog guitar.
The Bigsby tailpiece has a fixed roller bridge, and dual Volume and Tone knobs team with a three-way toggle to control a pair of “Kleenex box” Gold K single-coils with adjustable pole pieces, all accented by a Lucite pickguard with the Kay logo.
The K775V played remarkably well and its resonance was spectacular. Plugged in, its pickups are reminiscent of TV ’Trons with a splash of P-90. The neck pickup was round with plenty of presence and articulation. Jazzers, in particular, will benefit from the neck and middle positions. The guitar’s rocking side rears its head when flipped to the bridge pickup, and there’s a remarkable amount of cool country twang and grit, though it varies from the standard Tele tonal concept.
The K5970V bass includes many of the same construction elements, including primarily-maple construction and similar binding. The differences include a chambered body that provides thunderous low-end that blossoms when plucked, Wilkinson extra-light tuners, and a stud-mounted rosewood bridge and chrome tailpiece with thumb wheels for tweakability. The most notable difference, though, is in the electronics. The K5970V uses a single Kay Reissue Thin Twin blade pickup with individual Volume and Tone controls. It’s a surprisingly versatile pickup and a tried-and-true setup.
Like the guitar, the bass played like butter right out of the case. The thin, comfortable neck has a hint of J-Bass feel, and the 31″ scale (which will make guitarists happy) feels more like a 34″ thanks to the way the body sits whether seated or standing. Much like the K775V, the K5970V impressed before it was even plugged in. The chambered body booms, and with the factory-installed flatwounds, the tone is thick and thunderous. Plugged in, the results were just as pleasing – imagine the lovechild of a Höfner and a P Bass. For most producers and artists, that’s a sonic win.
Roger Fritz and the folks at Kay should be very happy with themselves. With first-rate construction and cool styling – and the tone to back them up – the K775V Jazz II electric guitar and the K5970V Jazz Special electric bass are worthy of any stage or studio.
This article originally appeared in VG July 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
The hard-driving husband-and-wife rock act that hits the stage as Pat Benatar and Neil “Spyder” Giraldo is responsible for more than a handful of stalwart classic-rock jams. For the past 15 years, Benatar and husband/guitarist/producer/co-writer Giraldo have spent many of their summers touring, then scratching their itch to perform with one-off and weekend gigs throughout the remainder of the year, “…to stay sharp and work on new songs and arrangements,” according to Giraldo.
This summer is no different, as the two and their band are all fired up to hit the road along with two other acts that know a thing or two about megastardom.
How’d you decide to hook up with Journey and Loverboy?
Our agents are always trying to find a varied package to take to good-sized venues. Money’s tough – this recession has been difficult for people, but everybody needs entertainment. When people spend money, they want to have a good time.
Journey is a nice bunch of guys, and have a lot of great songs. People love them. Our sound is a little more aggressive, so it’s a good combination, I think. The guys in Loverboy are a nice bunch, too. You run into everybody when you’ve been around as long as we have.
What gear are you taking out?
Well, for amps I’ll take the same little Marshall combos I have from way back. I loaded them with EV speakers and they’re pretty clean, but can get loud enough that I have to turn them around. I don’t use many pedals – just a delay and a little harmonizing effect for one amp.
For guitars, I take Fender Teles, which I love, and a couple of BC Rich Eagles. They’re making great guitars again. And then I’ll take a couple GMPs, they make beautiful guitars, as well. Everything has a Bigsby, and they all have Seymour Duncan pickups. I’ve known Seymour for 30-some years, and he puts an interesting match in the Teles for me. I have a ’64 Tele I call my “Muddy Waters guitar” that has a great bridge pickup; it sustains, but doesn’t sound mushy or thrashing – clean, but biting. And Seymour gets me stuff that’s really close to it.
In the BC Rich and GMP guitars, I started using these hybrids he did that are a cross between a humbucker, a ’59 PAF, and a Super Distortion, which again, doesn’t get mushy but keeps a bitey front end to it.
There’s a great story about what Seymour did with some Strats I had him make back when he was still working in his garage. At the time, Jeff Beck asked for Strat pickups at the same time I did. So Seymour made them, but sent the wrong ones to each of us! So, Jeff got mine and I got Jeff’s. I told Seymour, “These are amazing! I love them.” He goes, “I’ve got a problem… You gotta send ’em back, they were for Jeff Beck, not you.” I go, “Nah, c’mon! I love these.” So he calls Jeff, and Jeff tells him, “I’m not giving mine back either…” (laughs)!
With your rig, are you going for a sound consistent with that we’ve heard on your hit songs?
I’m not trying to do anything different, but so much comes from your hands that I don’t think you can disguise your tone. You can distort an amp, add treble, whatever… you still sound like you.
Are you working on new music?
We are. As a producer, I’m doing a Christmas/holiday record where I’m gonna use different people to sing – we’re going for weird synergy. There might be a cover of a Christmas song, and then songs based on particular times of year – Christmas, New Year’s, Hanukah, whatever the performers want to do. People are going to jump all over genres, go from one to the next to the next…
Patricia and I are working on new songs, as well. And there are some I started years ago. We’re going to put them in the set this summer, and then maybe by the end of the year we’ll have them ready to record.
Who’s in the band going out this summer?
Chris Ralles has been our drummer for quite a few years. Mick Mahan is our bass player and has been with us for 15 years… maybe longer. It’s basically a three-piece, but we make a lot of racket, and it works out really well. They’re great players, so it’s easy.
You have a side gig now that doesn’t directly involve music…
On The Rock Nutrition, yeah. I’m a fanatic about fitness, and once I got past 30, working out – jumping rope, running, lifting… my body was getting beat up. So I started taking supplements, and I thought, “Maybe I should come up with something of my own,” and I began to formulate. My first product is one that supports digestion and helps with acid reflux.
It’s exciting because, on the road, we eat lousy, drink some, stay up late, then feel like hell. My stuff actually makes you feel good in 20 minutes. Once I started testing it on people, they loved it. I’m looking to get the right people involved so we can go great guns with the company.
Do you work out daily?
Oh, yes. I wake up, have a bit of fruit, drink a ton of green tea, run three or four miles, go in the gym, then maybe play golf, do the gig if we’re playing, eat dinner, that’s it. That’s my day.
Any weight training?
A little bit. But I had an ulnar nerve entrapment injury last year and it almost felt like the end of my career. It was a horrible. Since then, I had to lay off a little, and I learned to do some stretching in place of the weights. I do some weights, but I can’t do what I used to because I have be careful to support the ulnar nerve. If that goes out again, I’m kind of screwed.
Is it a challenge to maintain that routine on the road?
No, it’s actually way easier because there’s no responsibility other than the gig. No distractions.
This article originally appeared in VG September 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
A lefty 1962 Fender Stratocaster in Olympic White and a ’58 Strat with blond finish.
Sixty years down the road since its creation, the Fender Stratocaster is the default image of the electric guitar for nearly all the human race.
From early adopters like Buddy Holly to pioneering masterminds like Jim Hendrix and living legends like Eric Clapton, it has been a stalwart, always at hand for superstars, bedroom pickers, garage-band grinders, players of all ages, skill levels, and stylistic inclinations.
“At first, the Stratocaster’s popularity was keyed to a player’s generation more than to a player’s genre,” said Richard Smith, author of Fender: The Sound Heard ’round the World. “Buddy Merrill, Buddy Holly, the Ventures, and Dick Dale were all young performers with different styles. Still, all their Strats looked new, exciting, and young. The model did attract a few old guys, too, like Eldon Shamblin.”
“It’s sometimes easy to conclude that the Stratocaster has been so influential largely because it was one of the earliest significant solidbody electric guitar designs,” said VG contributor Dave Hunter, author of The Fender Stratocaster: The Life and Times of The World’s Greatest Guitar and its Players. “The truth, however, is more likely that Leo and crew simply got so many things so right, right from the start. The aesthetics and the body lines were more stylish and forward-looking than anything that had gone before, without being excessive or cluttered, and the features – as the Strat has proved over and over again – gave it more overall versatility than any other electric on the market. Its vibrato was the most sensitive and usable on an electric guitar, with a far more extreme action when you wanted it, and the three pickups were capable of applying themselves to any breed of music, whether you needed warm and throaty or biting and twangy, or something round and funky in between.
“Fender made a youth-culture statement, from Lawrence Welk to Woodstock,” Smith adds. “The body’s curves and contours proved that one size can fit all. Yet the sound said even more. Of course, the vibrato worked to create a new texture, and with three pickups and a sticky selector switch, the Strat was the Swiss Army knife of guitar tone; want a blade, you got it; want a corkscrew, you got it.”
“Maybe the key to the Stratocaster’s abiding success really is in its versatility, and to explore that you merely need to list a handful of the major artists who have made very different kinds of music on the instrument; from Buddy Holly to Ritchie Blackmore, Hank Marvin to Jimi Hendrix, Dick Dale to Nile Rodgers,” added Hunter. “There really isn’t another guitar that covers such broad ground so confidently. Even when you consider the updates, advances, and modifications that later makers have brought to the format to ‘improve’ on the original, well, none take us more than a slight twist from template circa 1954, and plenty of major artists make groundbreaking music every day on original-spec Strats without complaint.”
“Fender’s current line is dominated by countless variations for the simple reason Fender got it right the first time,” said VG contributor George Gruhn. “To many guitar players, the Strat was – and still is – the perfect guitar.”
“In ’54, it was a timeless new guitar for the young generation,” added Smith. “It has remained forever young.”
To denote the anniversary, we offer an exclusive look at two historically significant examples.
Howard Reed, Jr. onstage with Gene Vincent and His Blue Caps in 1958.
The First Custom-Color Black Fender Stratocaster – Serial number 10041In 1955, working musician Howard Reed, Jr. (1937–1981) ordered the earliest known custom-color/black Stratocaster through his music teacher, J. Fred McCord, of McCord Music Company, in Dallas. The Strat, bearing serial number 10041, has a neck date of 11-55 and the control cavity tape was signed and dated by Fender employee Gloria on December 2, 1955.
McCord Music was one of the earliest Fender dealers and one of the largest at the time. That relationship likely facilitated McCord’s ability to order such an instrument for Reed, who after a $140 trade in, made payments of $15.64 per month through 1956 for a total of $334.95 (including hardshell case). Unlike well-known early custom-color examples, this Strat is one of the very earliest ordered by a working musician from outside the factory, and certainly one of the few in existence with clear documentation of authenticity.
In 1958, Reed joined Gene Vincent and His Blue Caps (“Be-Bop-A-Lula,” “Bluejean Bop,” “Lotta Lovin’”) as lead guitarist and used this Strat as his primary guitar onstage. He also performed with it on “The Big D Jamboree,” a Dallas-based program on CBS Radio similar to Nashville’s “Grand Ole Opry.” Reed personalized the guitar by applying three stickers with his initials “H A R” to the bass-side horn. In late 1979, he obtained written documentation on his guitar from McCord, including a copy of the original ledger sheet from the store’s records. Tragically, Reed died of a stroke in 1981, at just 43 years old.
With the exception of the custom black finish and a few small design and material modifications, the specifications of this guitar are very similar to the first production ’54 and modern Strats. – George Gruhn and Sarah Rose Jones
The ’55 Strat that once belonged to Howard Reed, Jr. Note the “H A R” stickers applied to the upper bass bout.
Wanna Strat? Experts Offer Pointers for The Newbie CollectorFrom its introduction in 1954, the Stratocaster has been exactly what Leo Fender envisioned – the supreme example of form meeting function in a solidbody electric guitar. But that’s only part of the reason the Strat is one of the “big three” collectible solidbodies. If you’re interested in collecting, there are some things you should know about the lauded offset-double-cut gem.
In the years immediately following its introduction, Fender tweaked a few elements of the model, the most notable being more-durable white plastic parts in 1956. Essentially, however, the guitar was near-perfect from the get-go, and as a result moved to the head of the class. Its future looked bright.
However, guitar collectors are quite aware of the demarcation between early Fenders – those made in the ’50s through early 1965, when Leo Fender sold his company to broadcast/record-industry giant CBS – and those “produced” afterward.
From ’65 from ’68, Fender entered what collectors call the “transition era,” during which the company shifted focus away from the inherent quality and attention to detail of hand-building to an assembly-line approach. The move affected the Strat moreso than other Fender models in part, because at the time, the guitar was waning in popularity.
George Gruhn
“Strats made after ’65 were built with an eye mostly to profit,” said vintage-instrument dealer Nate Westgor. And, as fellow dealer Dave Hinson, points out, from ’66 to ’68, Fender was more focused on its Coronado guitar and bass. As a result, by ’67, Strat production had reached a low.Despite the decline, Hinson believes not all transition-era Strats are dogs. “The ’66 Strat is one of the best ever made,” he said. “The pickups are hotter and have a great tone, and from the standpoint of a working guitarist’s tool, they’re very good.”
If there’s debate over the quality of transition-era Fenders, by the early ’70s, accountants – more concerned with profit margin than quality control – made changes in materials that erased all doubt.
“From the early ’70s on, the buzz was quiet but steady – ‘pre-CBS good, all else bad,’ said Westgor.
“The three-bolt neck plate introduced in ’71 means the guitar does not stay in tune as well the original, with a four-bolt,” noted VG contributor George Gruhn. “Also, the pickups on ’70s Strats do not produce the tone quality of pre-CBS models. And, most have extremely heavy bodies which are not only physically uncomfortable to hold for long, but also do not have tone as resonant as earlier ones.”
“I got my first Strat– a 10-year-old ’63 – in high school, and it didn’t take much to figure out why they were better than ’70s guitars,” recalled Westgor. “The old ones had an aged, dusky lacquer, tighter neck joint, an open, airy sound when strummed, and an authoritative tone through an amp. It was like owning Excaliber.”
In ’76, Fender made a change that most see as an improvement when it gave the Strat a five-position pickup selector, which expanded the guitar’s tonal spectrum by engaging pickups simultaneously.
Though collectors have relegated CBS-era Fenders to second (or third)-tier status, the Strat sallied forth thanks mostly to one man.
“The Strat’s charm within the babyboomer age group is derived from Hendrix at Woodstock,” noted Hinson. “Eric Clapton furthered its fortunes when he adopted one in his early solo career, and Stevie Ray Vaughan did likewise when he used it to help revive the blues in the ’80s.”
(TOP) Dave Hinson. (BOTTOM) Nate Westgor.
Fortunately, CBS did the Fender brand a huge favor in 1985, when it sold the company to a consortium headed by Bill Schultz (1926-2006).“Quality began to improve when Dan Smith (Ed. Note: Smith was hired as Fender’s head of marketing in 1981 and oversaw the Strat’s return to its classic form.) and others worked to affect change,” said Gruhn. “The vintage-reissue models of the era were a vast improvement, and Fender has worked consistently since that time to further improve quality. Many new Strats are worthy of professional use.”
Collectors entering the Strat market today should plan to spend at least $2,500 to get a quality example – and keep their minds open to something that may not yet have acquired “vintage” status.
“My recommendation for a person who has $2,500 to spend on a Strat is to find the best possible used Custom Shop or Masterbuilt version, since these are genuinely good instruments,” said Gruhn. “You can buy a ’70s Strat for $2,500, but their playability and sound is not nearly as good.”
“Older Custom Shop Strats are good,” Westgor concurred. “But, if you must have a ’70s Strat, watch for worn frets; they really are much more livable with fresh frets.”
“’70s Strat are interesting to a certain segment – maybe someone looking for a guitar from their birth year,” said Hinson.
“Our collector mentality really shows in the fact that early-reissue Strats bring the prices they do, because the new ones are much more refined,” Westgor adds. “But, it’s always best to get something you love, period.”
And, no matter which version or variation one ultimately finds, Westgor points out there’s something utterly satisfying about owning a Strat.
“Like older Ferraris that kept winning races, old Strats made history – from thousands of screaming fist-pumping fans at concerts to hundreds of books, articles, and websites later, it’s part of our culture.”
The First Production 1954 Fender Stratocaster – Serial number 0100
The significance of this particular guitar – the earliest known Stratocaster to be given a serial number – goes far beyond its place in the history of musical instruments.
When it left the Fender factory and landed in its owner’s hands at a music shop in El Monte, California, during the summer of ’54, it was the first sold-at-retail example of what would become the most successful electric guitar in the history of the instrument.
As many as 113 of the earliest Stratocasters have the serial number stamped on the vibrato cavity plate rather than the neck plate, as seen on later Fender instruments. This guitar has the earliest serial number – 0100 – on the early-style/round-hole plate. By late May of ’54, Fender was stamping the serial number on the neck-fastening plate using four-digit numbers starting with 0001. Fender employees installed these in a grab-bag manner such that the instruments were not sequentially numbered upon completion.
The neck of this guitar is dated 1/54 (January) and the body date is 4/54 (April). It has a deeply contoured ash body with two-tone sunburst finish, one-piece maple neck with black dot inlays and walnut backstripe (which was the only style available until late ’59), Kluson Deluxe tuners stamped “Pat Appl’d” and without the Kluson brand on them (these are referred to as “no line”), three single-coil pickups with a three-way pickup selector switch, white polystyrene thermoplastic (commonly referred to as but not actually “Bakelite”) small skirt-style Tone and Volume knobs, pickup covers and football-shaped switch tip, short front bridge saddles, “spaghetti logo” peghead decal, round string tree, and original “poodle style” hard case. Though several of the white polystyrene thermoplastic components such as the pickup covers and knobs have deteriorated due to age and use, the guitar is in fine condition for an instrument of its age.
Like the first Strat, the majority of Fender Stratocasters made in 1954-’55 had two-tone sunburst finish. The few solid custom color Stratocasters produced in ’54 and ’55 were released for promotional purposes in connection with the requests of artists such as the metallic gold Strat owned by Eldon Shamblin, of Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys, and Bill Carson’s Cimmaron Red Strat. Fender first offered color options in its 1956 catalog. – George Gruhn and Sarah Rose Jones
This article originally appeared in VG September 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
A presidential executive order issued February 11 proposes a wide ban on trade in ivory has widespread implications for trade in vintage musical instruments as well as antique art, furniture, firearms, swords, knives, and jewelry. U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service has been tasked with writing and enforcing new regulations for import, export, and domestic trade of products containing ivory components. The proposed regulations are scheduled to be issued for a 90-day period of public comment in June.
Though instruments have been made with plastic or bone components for many years, numerous fretted-instrument makers utilized genuine ivory components on a variety of guitars, mandolins, and banjos. Martin guitars made prior to 1970 have ivory nuts and saddles, and, prior to 1918, Martin built some higher-grade models with ivory bindings, friction peg tuners, bridges, and bridge pins. Virtually all good-quality vintage violin bows are ivory tipped. High-grade pianos made prior to the mid 1970s have ivory keys, and many vintage woodwind instruments contain ivory spacer rings.
Though many of these components, including the ivory nuts and saddles on vintage Martin guitars, weigh only a few grams, any amount of ivory would subject the entire instrument to the same degree of regulation as if it were comprised entirely of ivory. While the executive order contains language that appears to exclude antique items more than 100 years old, other terms and conditions in the definition of “antiques” renders this exception virtually useless.
The ivory friction pegs of a 1902 Martin 00-42. 1902 Martin 00-42: William Ritter, courtesy of George Gruhn.
The proposal includes a total ban on importation of any products containing any amount of ivory regardless of age. These regulations would also cover exports and domestic interstate sales of any items containing ivory unless the products can qualify as “antiques” under a strict definition. Private ownership of instruments would not be prohibited, but the sale, trade, or international travel with an instrument would be subject to these regulations. The proposal’s impact on in-state sales of ivory-containing instruments is not clear, though it should be noted that the New York legislature is considering a bill to totally ban sales of all ivory (antique or not) within that jurisdiction, and California has already passed a law banning in-state sale of ivory.
While in most cases it is relatively easy to document the age of a Martin guitar or vintage piano, the owner/seller would also be required to provide documentation to U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service proving the ivory components were harvested legally have not been reworked since ivory was added to Appendix II of the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) Treaty. Any re-shaping or cutting of the ivory would automatically give it the same legal status as newly harvested ivory. U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service requirements state that the ivory must be traced with documented provenance demonstrating it was legally imported through one of only 14 currently approved ports of entry. Since no such documentation was required or would now be available from over 100 years ago, this sets a standard which is impossible to meet, thereby effectively banning all export of ivory regardless of age. If these same standards are applied to interstate shipments, virtually all trade in ivory, regardless of its age, would be prohibited. This proof of provenance would be nearly impossible for most vintage-instrument owners and dealers. As a result, all original-condition Martin guitars with ivory components made from 1915 to 1970 would be illegal for interstate or international commerce, and instruments more than 100 years of age would be illegal for commerce if any ivory components have been reshaped or reworked in any manner. Even if dealers were permitted to remove ivory components from vintage instruments to replace it with bone, under the proposed regulations, it would be illegal to buy vintage instruments containing ivory prior to removing this material.
Vintage musical instruments are a significant part of our artistic and cultural heritage, and have been revered for hundreds of years. These instruments are not great simply because of their ivory components and would likely be as fully functional and highly respected today had they originally been made with components other than ivory, but we cannot retroactively alter history. Musical instrument makers, dealers, and musicians as a group have been one of the most environmentally conscious segments of society. Long before bans were placed on trade in tortoiseshell, Brazilian rosewood, and ivory, most makers had already stopped using these components on new instruments. Musical instrument makers, dealers, and musicians should be the logical allies of the environmentalists rather than being criminalized for dealing, preserving, playing, and collecting vintage instruments, especially since unlike the limited shelf life of many plant and animal products, items made with components such as ivory, wood, and shell products such as mother-of-pearl and abalone, can last for hundreds or even thousands of years.
We must recognize and acknowledge the legitimate concerns of conservationists and work to preserve and protect endangered ecosystems and species, but these legitimate goals cannot be achieved by criminalizing vintage musical instruments. When the proposed regulations are issued (likely in June), it will be critically important to write, offering constructive comments to U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service. In the meantime, we urge you to contact members of Congress in both the House and Senate to raise these concerns. It should be noted that the environmental lobbyists have successfully introduced similar legislation in the European Union, China, England, and Australia, and that ivory is also very strictly regulated under the CITES Treaty, which has been signed by more than 160 nations.
Further information can be found on the websites of the National Association of Music Merchants (namm.org) and U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service (fws.gov). Articles and editorials have appeared in newspapers and magazines including The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, The Tennessean, New York Daily News, Forbes, The Music Trades, and The Fretboard Journal.
This article originally appeared in VG July 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
People bandy about the term “game changer” so often these days it barely means a thing, but the Avante Gryphon may be just that.
Avante is the import line of Joe Veillette, who has long been crafting fine American guitars. His new Korean-made line presents the package in a range affordable to most players.
In a sense, the Gryphon is a hybrid instrument in that it can be applied in many ways. Certainly, one can use it as a higher-register 12-string; its shorter scale and smaller body create a heavenly “soprano guitar” effect with a shimmering top end and much less bass than a standard 12. On the other hand, being tuned D to D, it’s a potential secret weapon for guitarists looking to add mandolin-like sounds to their repertoire, as it projects in a similar range.
The Gryphon has a solid spruce top, solid mahogany back and sides, and a mahogany neck. The fingerboard and bridge are rosewood, and there are 21 frets (including a zero fret for better intonation). Its scale length is 18.5″ and overall length is 32.5″ – perfect size for a travel guitar.
In performance, the Gryphon exceeded expectations. Thanks to light tuners, the instrument balanced very well on the lap. The setup was excellent and made the neck (a shallow D profile) easy to play. The Gryphon has a very bright, brash tone – again, much like a mandolin – and should cut through any acoustic mix. Plugging into a P.A. or acoustic amp via the onboard preamp opens up new universes, and for controls there are Volume and Tone thumbwheels just inside the rim of the Gryphon’s top soundhole. Add a few sweet effects (reverb, chorus, compression, etc.), and the Gryphon becomes a positively ethereal 12-string. It’s easy to imagine solo guitarists from the Michael Hedges, Adrian Legg, or Andy McKee schools going wild over its sound and sonic possibilities. Further, world-music players will note that the Gryphon serves as an alternative to traditional folk instruments such as the bouzouki, mandocello, and Cuban tres and cuatro. And for studio recording, you can double a standard acoustic guitar part with the Gryphon and mix it back slightly for a mysterious treble shimmer, much like the classic “Nashville tuning.”
In this day and age when young guitarists are constantly reinventing the instrument, it’s easy to see how the Gryphon might be a tool of sonic evolution.
This article originally appeared in VG March 2015 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
A Kalamazoo-branded archtop. Nearly identical guitars also received the Cromwell name. At right the Kalamazoo KG-14.
Many aren’t aware that some of the archtop guitars Gibson produced during the Depression were marketed under different brand names, including Kalamazoo, Recording King, Cromwell, Fascinator, and Kel Kroyden, among others.
These shared similar features and construction techniques with the low-line Gibson-branded instruments such as the L-30 and L-50: a spruce top, mahogany body and neck, etc. The major difference is the absence of an adjustable truss rod in any of these “house brand” guitars. Generally speaking, Gibsons had adjustable truss rods beginning in 1922. But there were exceptions, particularly some World War II-era instruments.
The Kalamazoo KG-14 was similar in size, shape, and construction to Gibson’s L-0 model, with a single bound spruce top, mahogany sides, back, and neck. The Kalamazoos, in addition to lacking the truss rod, all featured straight or “ladder” bracing under the tops, rather than the X-bracing on most Gibsons.
Kalamazoo flat-tops also featured an abbreviated pickguard, similar to the standard “firestripe” tortoise guard on an L-0 or L-00, but appearing to have the upper edge trimmed off. A younger brother, the Kalamazoo KG-11 was similar in all respects to the KG-14 except that the body was a bit shorter, measuring in at 17 1/2″ instead of the usual 19 1/4″, giving the instrument a decidedly “squat” body appearance.
Another interesting Kalamazoo was the Oriole, or KG-12, which was produced beginning in 1940. Most Orioles featured maple bodies and necks with spruce tops. They were striking in appearance, with tortoise binding, tortoise pickguard, and a colorful Oriole decal on the headstock.
Gibson also made instruments for foreign sale. Many that were exported to Canada have found their way back, including the early-’30s Gibson shown here, which is nearly identical to a ’30s L-0 or L-00 with some interesting exceptions.
This instrument has a squared off headstock with no logo, and the non-trussed neck joins the body at the 12th fret. There is a stamped four-digit factory number on the neck block, and the back of the peghead is impressed with “Made In The U.S.A.” in small letters, indicating it was produced for the foreign market. This feature should not be confused with the “Made in USA” stamped on the early/mid -’70s Gibsons. Unlike the budget instruments which have no mention of their Gibson ancestry, this export instrument bears a small white paper label on the back reinforcement strip, visible through the soundhole. The label is approximately 5/8″ by 2″ and proudly proclaims “Made in the USA by Gibson, Inc., Kalamazoo, Mich.”
(LEFT) An early-’30s flat-top, made by Gibson specifically for export. (RIGHT) The Kalamazoo KG-12 Oriole.
In other respects, this is a very Gibson-like instrument, with a mahogany neck, sides and back, spruce top, single white binding on the top, a black/white/black rosette and an X-braced top.
Whatever you want to call them, Gibson house brand instruments provide an interesting insight to the Depression era, providing an affordable outlet for the average person in need of entertainment.
This article originally appeared in VG June 2003 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Despite being widely credited for pushing the electric bass past its status as a rear-of-the-stage device intended to simply help drummers provide rhythmic backing, and in turn influencing two generations of players, Stanley Clarke remains deferential and unassuming.
In the decade and a half before his arrival on the music scene in Philadelphia, the bass in pop music was used to fill the frequencies below the guitar and help the drummer keep time – like Bill Black and his walking lines behind Elvis or James Jamerson’s chromatic/in-the-pocket fills; its role secondary to the guitarist and singer. That changed when Clarke emerged in the early ’70s.
Clarke learned music in a formal setting, starting on upright bass. He picked up an electric in order to socialize and play music like the rock and pop groups that emerged in the mid/late 1960s. His varied influences eventually found him mingling with players immersed in the blossoming “fusion” scene of the time, where jazzers jammed on tunes that shed the form’s swing roots in favor of a rock backbeat. In 1973, he joined keyboardist Chick Corea, drummer Lenny White, and guitarist Bill Connors in Return to Forever, one of fusion’s first and foremost groups (Al Di Meola replaced Connors after the band’s first album).
Musicians of stature typically come from households where music, art, and/or other forms of culture are part of everyday life, and those early years were no different for Clarke.
“My mother liked the opera,” he said. “She sang around the house, and in the church choir, as well. She was a really fine painter, and creativity was vital to her. So, for as long as I remember, music and art were part of my life. It seemed natural for me to pursue something creative.”
But, why music?
“I always paid particular attention when listening to the radio,” he said. “And, when I was seven or eight, mother bought a piano, and it became a part of our family.”
In the ensuing years, his growing love of music piqued his interest in the school band. Like many musicians, Clarke tells the story of how he showed up on sign-up day only to find other kids had dibbed on all the “good” instruments.
“When I tell that story, I usually go straight to the upright bass, but I actually tried to play a violin for a second; I picked it up. Then, I sat for a bit with a cello. When I looked around again, there were no violins left. So, the instruments that no one even looked at were an acoustic bass and a sousaphone… maybe also a bass drum.
“The acoustic bass at least looked like something serious, like it had some history to it. The school’s upright was a nasty sounding instrument too, so my first challenge was to make a turd sound good! I still do that today (laughs)!”
Clarke calls his new disc, Up, “the most energetic, fun, rhythmic and upbeat album” from more than 40 he has made to date. Laden with the virtuosity and technical acumen, it supplants the predominant acoustic work on the last few albums with 12 songs that evenly mix electric and acoustic.
The disc includes Clarke’s current touring band – Beka Gochiashvili (acoustic piano) and Mike Mitchell (drums) – along with his former, Ruslan Sirota (acoustic piano/keyboards) and Ronald Bruner, Jr. (drums). But one of the primary motivations for making it was Clarke’s desire to acknowledge some of his longtime musical friendships, which include Joe Walsh, Jimmy Herring, and Paul Jackson, Jr., all of whom contributed on guitar. Clarke also addresses his affinity for drummers, and included greats like Bruner, Stewart Copeland, Gerry Brown, John Robinson, and Mike Mitchell.
Produced by Clarke and recorded at the famed L.A. studio The Village, he’s particuarly fond of its sound and pace; the first four tracks are upbeat and include the title track with Copeland on drums, along with Walsh and Jackson on guitars. They’re followed by the acoustic fifth track, “Bass Folk Song #13: Mingus,” which serves as an homage to the late jazz bassist and is one of four that share “folk song” as part of their title; another is “Bass Folk Song #7: Tradition,” which was inspired by his early collaborations with Horace Silver, Art Blakey, Dexter Gordon, Joe Henderson, Stan Getz and others. On it, he solos on an Alembic tenor bass.
The penultimate track is a re-work of “School Days” Clarke did with full knowledge of the potential peril of altering what is widely viewed as a bass anthem, this time with Jimmy Herring on guitar, and Brown – who drummed with Clarke on the original.
The album closes with “La Canción de Sofia (A Song for Sofia).” The tune was written for Clarke’s wife and was recorded as an acoustic duet with Chick Corea, onstage in Japan.
We spoke with Clarke just prior to the release of Up.
(LEFT) This prototype of an original Spellbinder has a wood frame with a composite wrap and – unlike the production version – a 34″ scale. Per Clarke’s specs, the Spellbinder was initially marketed with a 30.75″ scale, a preference stemming from his early days playing a Gibson EB-0. The pickup tray design housed two custom Bartolinis and was part of a sliding-pole-piece concept that was not patented until 1989. The instrument came about as a result of a partnership between Clarke and guitar builder Tom Lieber. (RIGHT) Clarke cites his custom Neuvo Spellbinder, derived from the company’s Spellbinder 2001, for its ability to “do anything the Alembic can do,” and offers its own type of fine craftsmanship.
As you started to learn to play, what kept you focused?
I think it was a combination of things, including the degree to which I was improving. I had pretty good teachers that were very expressive about progress. They gave me the feeling like, “Wow, you’re really getting this together.” That’s nice for anybody who’s learning. So, it was a combination of the teachers, my mother telling me, “You’ve gotta learn music,” and there was school – The Settlement Music School. When I took lessons there, it was kind of like walking back through time; I’d go through the front door of the old, colonial-type building full of people in suits – it was really like an old-school music academy – and walk into a room with nice furniture and teachers who sat with you and your instrument. It was geared to prepare you for college or an orchestra, and it was my first connection with something professional. There were serious rules – you had to be accepted to get in, and you could very easily be thrown out.
Was such structure good for you?
Yeah. At the time I didn’t know it was (laughs). I was just trying to survive it, actually. There were a few times I’d come in late and the teacher would say, “Hey, Stanley, where is Livingstone?” He was a serious teacher and great guy. It was cool, I really cherish those days. The first four to five years, my studies were strictly classical music – old-world in the European tradition.
What was some of your favorite music to play in those days?
Well, I was moving pretty good as an acoustic bass player and there were a lot of sonatas for bass. There was this one written by Eccles – a sonata in G minor – and I used to love to play it. There were other things, too, and I enjoyed playing anything that gave you a sense of feeling special, where it didn’t matter what neighborhood you came out of. It didn’t really matter who you knew. It was really more about whether or not you could play. One guy could come from [a wealthy] family and another could come from Spanish Harlem; I liked that it was simply, “Do you or don’t you have the goods?” And I kept that throughout life.
At what point did the electric bass enter your life?
The electric bass came as a way to play at parties, look cool, and emulate the bands coming out of England, which all the girls liked. When I started on electric bass… I’d be a liar if I said I played like guys play it now. I was wild. And even though it appeared like I had worked out parts, it was mostly off the cuff, because I was a jazz player. I didn’t work out solos. Some of it was good and some of it, to be honest, wasn’t that good. But that’s the kind of player I was. Now, it’s like they’re playing Paganini parts – it’s serious business! For me, though, it was a hobby and I didn’t take it serious – I never studied electric bass, even after I made some records that were popular. The bass players who came after me – Jaco Pastorius, Marcus Miller, Victor Wooten, and a few others – brought a presentation of the instrument that was really important and really helped move the bass forward.
Did you come to favor one – acoustic or electric – over the other?
I’ve always looked at myself as an acoustic-bass player. I don’t talk about this much because the electric bass is so strong right now. Yes, I play electric bass and I’ve slung it around my arms, I’ve played it with leather pants, I’ve played with the Rolling Stones, I’ve played with all kinds of people. In many people’s minds, I’m an electric-bass player. But, in my heart, I’m an acoustic-bass player. The acoustic work I’ve done gives the full picture. I don’t diminish the electric bass in any way, but my musical genesis is the acoustic bass.
Clarke (left) with Chick Corea and Al Di Meola in Return to Forever, 1976. Return to Forever: Tom Marcello.
Your style on the electric is unique because of that background, especially the way you pluck the bass.
Yeah… I was talking to Marcus Miller and Victor Wooten once about how they hold their [plucking] hands the way I do. Marcus said it took him years to realize he did that. If you look at rock players, their arm goes down and the hand lays in a normal position, but for some reason I got into bending my hand and wrist, which lets you use less power because you’re breaking the energy at the wrist. That’s the way I’ve always played, and that came from the way I pluck strings on the acoustic. I told Marcus and Victor, “Sorry man!” (laughs)
What are your thoughts on the way bass playing has evolved, stylistically? You certainly played a role in it.
If I have any complaints about where the bass has gone, it’s that some players that have lost or chosen not to serve the basic function of a bass player, which is to play rhythm in such a way where the harmony and the rhythm are married. When the bass plays a low C and everybody’s playing a C chord, you really hear the bass at the bottom, playing the fundamental. From that point, it can get as complicated as you want, but still, it’s the job of the bass to bring the rhythm and harmony together. Some bass players have forgotten that – they’re more baritone-guitar players. They play a lot of stuff.
Now… I’ve done that; I’ve been the biggest culprit. But, I can also say that I’ve done my share of playing solid bass lines on lots of records. And after saying that, I can come back and argue against myself and say it’s good that we have bass players who just play solos and chords and things that make the bass universe less monolithic; it was pretty one-sided coming from the ’50s and ’60s. Now, you have guys doing all kinds of records. When I started making records, there was just a handful of solo bassists. Now, there are hundreds. Some are good, some are awful. And the thing I like most is that it’s not so much the music, it’s the fact that a bass player can feel as important as any other instrument. When I made my first record, people questioned me. “Are you crazy? You’re just a bass player.” I’ll never forget that. “What are you gonna play on a record?” So, I showed ’em.
Who most influenced you?
It’s funny, and I have to preface this by pointing out that greatness on an instrument is difficult to quantify – it’s not a point-based system, like sports. My favorite bass player doesn’t have the technique other guys do, but when you listen closely and study what he has done, the stuff Ron Carter did with Miles Davis is truly genius. He shifted the paradigm from the guys before him. It was very profound, the way he played – nothing like a virtuoso soloist, but really interesting. He’s the most-recorded bass player there is, which tells you something,
One of your new songs directly references Charles Mingus…
Yeah. Even though I love his music and recorded one of his songs, he influenced me more just as a person. He was a crazy bass revolutionary. You could’ve taken the bass away from him, put a rifle in his hand, and sent him to the Sandinistas. He was a wild dude when you sat in front of him.
Which of his songs best relay that?
My favorite Mingus song is everyone’s all-time favorite – “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat,” which I like because it was about his friend, Lester Young, who wore pork-pie hats with the brim up. The title was just so personal, and he was willing to get so deep with that melody. When I first came to New York, I had the luxury of seeing his band at the Village Vanguard. He was tough man, like he was gonna fight somebody that night. I admired that somebody was brave enough to just let out exactly what it is.
I remember when I first met him… Somebody called and said he was at a restaurant in my neighborhood, and wanted to meet. So I walked down to this restaurant on the lower East Side, and there were platters of food at his table, I never saw anybody eat so much… well, other than Kareem Abdul Jabbar. They’re the only two guys I’ve ever seen eat platters – like they were horses or something (laughs). And he only really faced the food – his eyeballs would look up at me, like he was checking me out. It was cool, though. When someone asks me about a deep memory, that’s usually the one. I’ve been around Miles Davis, but those memories kind of pale to Mingus, because he was eerie, in a way. The guy was a serious dude (laughs)!
With its distinguished body style, Clarke says this Rick Turner Model 1 bass is “sweet, really warm, and very nice for accompanying acoustic instruments.” It has Turner’s custom-made electronics with magnetic pickup, piezo in the bridge, and a blending preamp. Its top and back are walnut, the body mahogany, and the neck is a five-piece laminate of maple and purpleheart with a rosewood fingerboard.
When you first started playing electric bass, what was your instrument and rig?
My first electric bass was a Kent. I think it cost $20 at a five-and-dime store, where it was actually a high-priced item! There was like an organ, a Kent guitar, and the bass. My mother got it for me, and I didn’t even have a case. It was real raw, man! I started playing with a guy at school, Steve Sykes, whose family owned a funeral parlor. He was just starting to drive, so our band, Blues Demonstration, drove to gigs in a hearse.
After that, I got a Gibson EB-O with black strings on it, I don’t know what they were, but they sounded dull, man. I played it in early Return to Forever, too, until Rick Turner came to a gig in San Francisco and politely said, “You’re a really good player, but your sound sucks.” Said it just like that! I was like, “Who the hell is this guy?” But, me and Lenny White, the drummer, talked to him more. We appreciated that he was so bold. Eventually, he said, “I have something…” and he went to his car and brought back one of the first Alembic basses. I played that thing, and it was like night and day; I could actually hear the notes I was playing. So, we gathered a bunch of money… Rick wasn’t there to sell it, but we were aggressive. I think we gave him $1,600, which was a lot of money at that time. He said, “Man, this cost me two grand to make.” (laughs) And it was such a great addition to Return to Forever. It changed our sound because the low-end up and everything was very clear. I was in heaven, man.
That relationship became very strong…
Yeah, and I still play Alembic basses. They’ve allowed me to play the things I envision, which was difficult on those early Gibson basses because I just couldn’t hear it.
On [Return to Forever’s] Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy, I used a Gibson except on one tune, “Theme to the Mother Ship.”
One bass I found, before the Alembic, was a Dan Armstrong I borrowed from someone… [Mahavishnu Orchestra bassist] Rick Laird, I think. It was really, really clean, after playing it I thought, “Man, if I could just get a clean bass.” Then, the Alembic came to me.
As a result, you raised Alembic’s profile and maybe Alembic played a role in your profile coming up.
Yeah, it was a good marriage, and they were always very nice to me. To this day, every couple of years they make me some kind of amazing, fantastic billion-dollar bass. For the 30th year anniversary of our relationship, they made a great one that I’ve only played in public once, but I’ll maybe take it out next year. It would be okay on a bus tour, but I’d still worry about it.
(LEFT) Clarke calls this Spellbinder II “a good, solid bass.” Based on the Spellbinder 2001 prototype, it has a 34″ scale, maple neck-through design with body wings made of quartersawn Sitka spruce, and a 24-fret ebony fretboard. (RIGHT) This Alembic is Clarke’s primary/“workhorse” bass. A 1999 Series I short-scale, it has Coco Bolo top and back with extra-wide maple-accent laminates and a vermilion core. The neck is maple and vermilion with an ebony fretboard.
Which other companies have approached you about endorsement deals?
They all have – every company that’s been out there. And I’ve actually liked a few. I’m not a big Fender fan, but I have a few Fender basses. Marcus [Miller] gave me one of his signature basses, and I used it on a few movies and the new Al Jarreau record. I really like how Warwick makes basses, they’re very nice.
Do you recall being approached by Kramer?
Yeah, I endorsed a Kramer for a while. There was an ad where I’m holding the first Kramer bass; they brought the prototype to me, and it was interesting.
Do you recall what you thought about the neck with the aluminum inserts?
What I liked about it was the neck didn’t move, so there was a precision in the intonation with that instrument. One of the things that I didn’t like was its tone controls – I couldn’t really hear things that would apply to what I was doing. That’s the problem with sweepable EQ on basses – it basically alters one frequency, whereas the smarter design was a “cut” knob with other knobs on top, where one does this and one will take one of the pickups off, which gives a whole lot of flexibility. That was really what I liked back then. For instance, playing solo, especially with loud drummers, in order to cut through, I need some midrange, maybe hi-mids, to boost my sound. Back in those days, there weren’t any pedals that did that. So, I had to use the switches on the bass. Now, they have all kinds of stuff that can boost your sound 10 db – just flip a switch.
Studio and live, do you have preferred instruments and/or amp rigs?
I use Ampeg stuff now. I did SWR, I did EBS, then I went back to Ampeg, which gives me a warmer sound. I have my Alembics with the preamp input module, and I use pretty much the same rig live as in the studio. The only difference is that in the studio it’s a little smaller. The Alembic is usually taken direct and amped, but that’s pretty much it.
At a gig where you’re playing electric, do you switch basses through the course of a night?
If I bring both. Usually, though, I take just one because, really, the Alembics cover it all for me. They made a five-string for me that is really, really, nice. I just gotta learn how to play it (laughs)! I can play it, but I can’t really play it. It has a beautiful sound, though.
Speaking of, where do you come down on basses with more than four strings?
I have nothing against five- and six-string basses, but I’m pretty much a four-string guy. I’m not big on those nine-string instruments – all those wild strings that look like they’re on a table or something. They’re cool as far as creativity, and its progress – good or bad. I’m also not against the physical looks of any instrument, as long as you’re playing the right stuff.
Speaking of, your new album, Up, has some highly melodic material, and then there’s some virtuosic stuff that might freak out some people.
That’s the thing I like about it – it’s a lot of what I do, you know? It’s nice.
Did anything specifically fuel or influence your desire to make a new album?
I hadn’t made one in a long time, and I wanted to make a record where I would just have fun hanging out with my friends in music. So, pretty much everyone on the album, I have a close relationship with. It started out with me and Stewart Copeland, who is one of my oldest friends – we go back way, way, way before the Police. So, we messed around with a couple tracks, then called Joe Walsh and did “Up!,” which was fun. The album opens with “Pop Virgil,” with [keyboardist] Greg Phillinganes, John Robinson, and Paul Jackson, Jr. – essentially the Michael Jackson rhythm section, who I’ve known since they were really young and used to do sessions for me. They’re like a team, and when they play, it sounds like a record. They could take the worst tune and make it sound like something.
(LEFT) Clarke calls this “Black Beauty,” and says it’s his favorite amongst the Alembics. A mid-’70s Series I, it has a graphite neck and Bigby vibrato. The top and back are ebony, the accent laminates are Zebrawood, and the core is birdseye maple. (RIGHT) Clarke’s Löewenherz bass is a 34″-scale instrument with a laminate neck of bubinga and maple. It sports pickups by Christoph Dolf, Noll Electronics, and to enhance sustain, a brass lion head tailpiece weighing 330 grams.
Were there any quirks or differences in the way it came together, compared to your other records?
I was surprised that we went straight through. The first four tracks are kind of upbeat. Like, “Can it get any upper than this?” (laughs) Then it goes down, then it goes in these other places, and even the ending is unnatural, which is what makes it natural, for me. It all fell into place, and a lot of it had to do with the guys being ready and having a lot of fun.
Did you choose the guest guitarists based on anything, in particular?
Yeah, for years Jimmy Herring had been telling me how much he liked “School Days.” And, in fact, a lot of guitar players through the years have told me, “Man, if you ever do that again, I’ve gotta do that track.” But, I picked that track this time for Jimmy. It’s funny… I know people have this thing, like, “How could you mess with a classic tune?” And maybe it’s the jazz musician in me, but we don’t really think like that. Rock guys think like that. You couldn’t imagine Led Zeppelin re-doing “Stairway to Heaven.” But in the jazz world… Miles Davis re-cut quite a few tunes, like “So What,” which was a classic on Kind of Blue. He recorded it two, three, four other times on live and studio albums. It’s the same way with me; “School Days” is a good tune, so why not record it? It was fun, and Jimmy played his butt off. He’s in the tradition of the great Southern-rock guitarists – Lynyrd Skynyrd and all the guys who came before him. It just doesn’t get any better. Sometimes, when I listen to him, I don’t even care what he’s playing as long as the tone is right (laughs).
What were some other highlights as you filled the guitar parts?
The way Joe Walsh became involved was kind of funny. When I was getting ready to do the 2008 reunion tour with Return to Forever, the Eagles were going out, too, and me and Joe would go to the same gym, trying to get ourselves into shape. Joe would be one side with his trainer, I was on the other side. When I was in my 20s, we weren’t lifting weights to go on the road – we just went! Not these days. I have to prepare myself, physically, to go on the road and do what I want to do.
I met Paul Jackson, Jr. when he was 16, and have always liked his almost-compositional way of playing parts on a record. He decides what he’s going to play and how he’s going to play it, then he executes. It’s a different kind of spontaneity; it’s worked out, but it’s worked out on the spot, then comes out like, “Wow, he thought about that for an hour.” He recognizes right away what is needed, which is really cool. I told him to do that little James Brown lick in “Pop Virgil.” He knew exactly what to do. That was something…
“School Days,” of course, has a real ear-worm melody…
Yeah, and I really like the sound we got. Sonically, it might be better now. The song’s got a thing. Playing a gig with Larry Carlton once, people were screaming out for it. I was standing next to Larry and I go, “Look at this guy over here screaming ‘School Days.’ Now I’ve got to play it for the billionth time.” Larry looked at me and he said, “Man, you should be thankful. Not every instrumentalist is fortunate enough to have a career song. You have one.” And he was right. I thanked him. I stood corrected and I actually learned to appreciate it (laughs) a lot more. And it’s true, there probably ain’t a spot in the world that somebody doesn’t know that song, and that’s a very cool thing. I remember the first time we played in Senegal and these guys were going nuts, shouting “‘School Days!” “School Days!” These guys wearing robes (laughs). I was like, “Okay, okay. Alright.” That was pretty wild. I’ve been to a lot of places with people screaming out that tune – Tunisia, Turkey, places in the Mideast. I change the arrangement every now and then I add something. I keep the core of the tune, and we’ll add a little thing here and there so it feels like new every tour. On the record, we broke it down bare – took all the extra stuff out – and it’s nice, I like it. That’s the way I prefer playing it these days.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s January 2015 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Tone Pump Solara Studio
The significance of this particular guitar – the earliest known Stratocaster to be given a serial number – goes far beyond its place in the history of musical instruments.
Despite being widely credited for pushing the electric bass past its status as a rear-of-the-stage device intended to simply help drummers provide rhythmic backing, and in turn influencing two generations of players, Stanley Clarke remains deferential and unassuming.
One of your new songs directly references Charles Mingus…
