This 1958 Gretsch Chet Atkins 6120 four-string tenor guitar is a very rare variation of the model.
Gretsch built other tenors, including the Duo Jet, archtop acoustic, and archtop electric tenors of various other models. Gretsch was not alone in making tenors. Martin, Gibson, and Epiphone all produced tenor versions of many of their standard models.
Tenor guitars were popular in the 1930s and continued to be made into the ’70s, though very few were made after the early ’60s. The heyday of the tenor banjo was the 1920s Dixieland era. At that time, they were more popular than guitars in the U.S., as Dixieland music took the nation by storm. The tenor banjo (and to a lesser extent its cousin, the four-string plectrum banjo) were the dominant fretted instruments of the genre.
The tenor banjo has tremendous volume and projection. One can be heard very clearly through a 12-piece brass band. After 1929, Dixieland music declined dramatically in popularity and was replaced by the crooners such as Bing Crosby and Rudy Vallee, who ruled the music scene from 1929 through 1933. From 1934 through World War II, the big-band era was dominant. The tenor banjo had too strident and piercing a voice to suit either the crooners or the Big Band era.
So the guitar became the dominant fretted instrument, with its lower pitch, more mellow voice, and greater sustain. Thousands of tenor banjo players were faced with either being out of work or switching to guitar. Since the banjo has a different tuning, different scale length, and quite different playing technique, it was a big adjustment. For those who wanted an easier transition, the tenor guitar was an alternative.
By putting the equivalent of a tenor banjo neck on a standard guitar body, the tenor banjo player could adapt virtually immediately. But the tenor guitar sounds very different from a tenor banjo. These instruments have a unique voice, combining the voicing of tenor tuning with the greater depth, mellowness, and sustain of a guitar.
While we frequently encounter people playing a tenor guitar tuned the same as the first four strings of a standard guitar, it should be noted that this is not the way the instrument was intended to be used, nor is it the best way to bring out the sound of these instruments. Tuned in standard guitar manner, a tenor guitar simply is a less complete and weaker instrument. The shorter tenor scale (221⁄2″ to 23″ depending upon the manufacturer) is ideally suited to tenor tuning, but does not give sufficient tension to bring out the best in standard guitar tuning.
Four-string tenors are tuned and played in the same manner as a tenor banjo, in fifths, C, G, D, A (low to high). The instrument extends from a low C to a high A (first-string equivalent to the first string on a standard guitar at the fifth fret). The instrument has a far greater pitch range than the first four strings of a guitar, and the chord voicings are far more versatile. Tuned in fifths in the correct tenor manner, the voicings are the same as bowed instruments such as violin and viola or mandolin family instruments (tenor tuning – C,G,D,A – is the same as viola or mandola).
While the tenor guitar has a unique voice, and well-made tenor instruments of this sort sound very fine, they did not fill a niche in the big bands, and never achieved the popularity of a standard guitar. Tenor banjo players who wanted to make the transition to guitar generally found that simply switching to a tenor instrument with a guitar body was not going to assure them of continued employment.
By the 1950s, tenor guitars were made in relatively small quantities and were more of a curiosity than a mainstream instrument. The tenor received a brief boost in the early ’60s due to being featured in the folk group The Kingston Trio, but most folk players never truly understood tenor voicing, and simply tuned them like the first four strings of a standard guitar.
Today, tenor guitars are most popular among players who back up Texas-style fiddling. While the majority of guitarists backing Western Swing and Texas-style fiddlers perform on six-string guitars playing chord rhythm, a minority use tenor guitars and have found them ideally suited to the chord rhythm played in this style of music.
The tenor Gretsch featured here has a body of the same dimensions and construction as the standard 6120 of the period. The tailpiece is a typical Gretsch “G” logo type set up to hold four strings. The Filtertron pickups are built with the same construction as the six-string version, but are set up with only four sets of pole screws. The neck dimensions are essentially the same as a tenor banjo. The peghead is a smaller tenor size, set up for four strings, but features the same Gretsch name logo and horseshoe inlay as the standard 6120 model of the period. When this guitar was made, a typical six-string 6120 would have had “thumbprint” inlays on the bass side of the fingerboard. This has dot inlays, but on an instrument which, in all probability, is a one-of-a-kind custom-order piece, variations are always possible.
This guitar came with a typical Gretsch 6120-style hardshell case with white covering and tooled leather edge trim. While the neck is shorter than a standard guitar, Gretsch did not have a special design tenor case made with a shorter neck. Had Gretsch tooled up to make large numbers of tenor guitars, they might have had special tenor cases made, but for a custom instrument such as this, they made do with the standard case.
This guitar is in exceptionally fine condition showing virtually no wear. Today, it is owned by Elvis Costello, who has been performing with it onstage. While the tenor guitar will never overcome the standard six-string in popularity, they have a valid voice, deserving of greater recognition.
This article originally appeared in Vintage Guitar magazine’s August 2004 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
1940 ES-300 with serial number 96531. ES-300 SN 96531: Lynn Wheelwright.
Among musicians and collectors, Gibson’s pre-World-War-II ES-300 may be less popular today than the ES-250, but in terms of sheer numbers, it was Gibson’s most popular 17″ pre-war electric, despite the adverse context of the early 1940s. Truth is, most of the more-prominent guitarists of the period continued to favor installing an old-style bar pickup on their 17″ archtop.
In 1940, Gibson was still using the bar pickup conceived in 1935 while its competitors (Rickenbacker excepted) had already upgraded their pickup offerings. The key ingredients to an improved design were smaller and stronger Alnico magnets, whose composition and manufacture had been perfected during the ’30s, and the advent of adjustable pole pieces.
As recounted in the first installment of this series (May ’13), Gibson devised adjustable poles for the bar pickup in early 1938, but the design was not put into production, possibly on cost grounds, but more plausibly because a radical change in pickup construction was already in the offing. Walter Fuller, head of Gibson’s electronics department, knew he had to come up with a truly novel design to restore a competitive edge to the brand’s electrics. Whether for reasons of supplies or because Gibson did not want too many new products in any one year, this much-awaited new pickup design (known today as the P-90) made its debut at the Chicago trade convention in late July, 1940.
In order to maximize its innovative features, Fuller elected to modify the pickup placement, and – in the case of what was initially called the “new ES-250” – its size. A contemporary flyer notes, “The pickup is set at an angle so as to give more brilliancy to the treble strings and a deeper voicing to the bass.” On a 17″-wide archtop, this meant a 63/4″-long unit comprising four Alnico magnets, compared with only 41/16″ and two magnets for the (shorter) unit fitted to the EH-250 lap steel unveiled at the same time.
In both cases, the “offset adjustable pickup,” as it was dubbed, was mounted diagonally under the strings, with the treble poles closer to the bridge to enhance highs and the bass poles closer to the fretboard to provide mellow bass tone. The underlying concept was to offer a broader tonal spectrum for backing or lead work. For the record, Les Paul was among the first players to use the new pickup after he asked Gibson to retrofit the unit on a ’36 L-7 he’d sent back to the factory.
(LEFT) Mid-’40s ad showing Oscar Moore and his electric L-5N with bar pickup. (RIGHT) A Gibson flier featuring Carl Kress (with “new” ES-250) and Tony Mottola (with old-style ES-250).
At first, Gibson thought it was possible to significantly alter a model without changing its designation, as automobile manufacturers do! The fact that both the redesigned ES-250 and EH-250 were packaged with a new natural-finish amplifier featuring a maple cabinet (the EH-275) pushed the list price of the ES outfit up to $300 – and brought about the ES-300 designation used from October, 1940. Meanwhile, for a couple of months, the last of the old-style ES-250s with bar pickup, and the earliest new-style ES-250s (i.e. the first-version ES-300) overlapped in factory records, thereby creating an element of confusion.
At least 22 instruments with the large diagonal pickup were entered in factory records as (new) ES-250s. These guitars typically carry an ES-250 designation on the paper label glued inside their body, but it cannot be ascertained if all actually do, or whether some received new labels in/after the fall of 1940. The examples with the lowest number (e.g. serial numbers 96190 or 96255 to 96263) do, but it is less clear for those released during the October, 1940, change-over period. For example, on October 25, 1940, serial number 96385 is entered as a 250 whilst 96384 is concurrently listed as a 300!
(LEFT) Tony Mottola with the 1941 L-5P fitted with a second bar pickup near the bridge. (RIGHT) To capitalize on his win in Down Beat magazine polls, Gibson falsely claimed Charlie Christian was playing an ES-300.
Compared to a standard ES-300, some of these new-style ES-250s may present slightly unusual peghead appointments such as an L-5 torch inlay, an L-7 “flying tea pot,” or an L-12 Celtic cross, reflecting the experiments done with early samples. But they all feature double-parallelogram inlays on the fingerboard as opposed to open-book or picture-frame inlays on the old-style 250.
Underside of short diagonal pickup with two M55 Alnico magnets.
The ES-300 did not meet with the anticipated acclaim, and comments from players prompted Gibson to revamp the model in early 1941. The long pickup was cut to a more-normal size while remaining positioned at a slight angle in front of the bridge. The first ES-300 with shorter diagonal pickup shipped from late April, 1941, and introduced in a flyer dated May 20. Concurrently, the one-page bulletin included with each new electric instrument took care to mention, “the long pickup… has been replaced with a shorter one; we found a way to get better results by concentrating the energy.”
Excerpt from August, 1940, ledger featuring the “new model ES-250.”
Like its predecessor the new ES-300 was at first available exclusively with a natural finish. A sunburst shading was offered from January of ’42, and by ’43 it was the only finish offered. This can be explained by Gibson’s difficulties in procuring good-quality (figured) maple, and by the sizeable price increase of the ES-300N, which listed for $183.75 in January of ’42 compared to $160 in October of ’40 (an increase of some 15 percent in 15 months). In the name of rationalization, the factory also used L-7 bodies mounted with a pickup to deliver ES-300s as needed (even if some retained their L-7 label!). This explains why some ES-300s may have a one-piece laminated back when others have a two-piece carved back.
1943 second-version ES-300; note fully original ES-150 tailpiece, used due to a shortage of proper ES-300 units. ES-300: Lynn Wheelwright.
Despite the outbreak of war, the second-version ES-300 continued to be offered well into 1943 – as long as permitted by available supplies. The last pre-war ES-300 meant for a dealer was shipped to Jenkins Music on October 9, 1943, while the last two (97929 and 97930) were sent to Chicago Musical Instruments on July 10, 1944. According to factory ledgers, and after stripping out duplicate shipments, the total number of ES-300s delivered from 1940 to ’44 amounts to 344 units, including 22 “new ES-250s.” A (very) few examples may have bypassed the ledgers each year.
The arrival of the ES-300 with its newly-designed Alnico pickup did not prevent some preeminent players from requiring something different, more often than not fitted with the old-style bar pickup. The attraction to Gibson’s first pickup design (which persists to this day in some circles) owes a lot to the impact of Charlie Christian on the jazz guitar scene during his short career, including his famous article published in the December 1, 1939, issue of Down Beat advocating guitarists to switch because “electrical amplification has given guitarists a new lease on life.”
Factory records indicate Les Paul received at least three electric L-5s in addition to the two 17″ electrics (95423 and 95509) from 1938-’39 (discussed in the May installment). In September, 1940, Gibson sent him an L-5P carrying serial number 96276 along with an EH-160 amp via its New York representative, Lanky Neal. In March of ’41, another electric L-5N carrying serial number FA-5165 was delivered to Les, then returned less than a month later to be replaced by a third ES L-5N with serial number 96881, in May.
Also in May of ’41, Gibson endorser Allan Reuss was shipped an electric L-5P in natural finish (96978) fitted with a diagonal pickup. Apparently, the instrument did not impress Reuss, because it was returned to the factory a few months later. Alvino Rey similarly returned various ES-300s with diagonal pickup and chose to stick with his 1940 ES-250.
A few other 17″ electric archtops were delivered in ’41 and ’42 to select players such as Oscar Moore, who, thanks to his association with Nat King Cole, gave a lot of exposure to his L-5N and was accordingly featured in a mid-’40s ad. Historically speaking, though, the most famous of all is the ES L-5P (96515) sent to Charlie Christian in June, 1941, shortly before he had to be admitted to the Seaview Sanitarium in Staten Island. The guitar was eventually returned to Gibson, then passed to Tony Mottola, who would use it throughout his long and distinguished career (in the ’40s, it was factory-fitted with a second bar pickup near the bridge, with three adjusting screws of the second pickup located between the bridge and the tailpiece). But years later, Mottola had the dubious idea of replacing the bridge pickup with a humbucker, thereby defacing an historically important Gibson electric!
This article originally appeared in VG December 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
In more ways than one, Journey Through The Past – the title of Neil Young’s 1972 directorial film debut – would have been a better title for A Letter Home, the latest from Winnipeg’s favorite son. Recorded in the 1947 Voice-o-Graph booth at Jack White’s Third Man Records in Nashville, this all-covers affair is, according to Young, a look back, comprising “songs that changed my life… songs by greater writers.”
On paper, the possible pitfalls are apparent. In concept, this new album would seem to have the potential to be another confounding zig where others zag. (Trans or Everybody’s Rockin’, anyone?)
One listen to the opening title track, however, an off-the-cuff spoken-word piece that Young addresses to his deceased mother, Rassy, should allay the fears of on-the-fence fans. A device that would come off as corn-pone in the hands of another is poignant here. And it sets the tone for most of what follows.
While this album at times makes the Anthology Of American Folk Music sound like it was recorded last week (and this from a guy who spent the previous months making PR hay by touting his Pono digital music system), most of the song selections work well, though there are a handful of clunkers. Springsteen’s “My Hometown” falls flat, and a shambolic, piano-accompanied stab at “On The Road Again” (complete with blown lyrics) makes the Faces sound like the most tightly rehearsed post-hardcore band.
But when the album works, which is most of the time, it’s fantastic. Gordon Lightfoot’s “Early Morning Rain” and especially “If You Could Read My Mind” are devastating in Young’s hands, while Bert Jansch’s “Needle Of Death” reads like a bookend to Young’s “Needle And The Damage Done” and “Tonight’s The Night.” And with “Girl From The North Country,” Young evokes the halls of Kelvin High School, circa 1961, more than Dylan does Echo Helstrom back in Hibbing.
A Letter Home is the sound of someone who never rested on his laurels simultaneously reflecting on his past and staring down his foreshortening future. But the sense is that Young is reflecting solely for his own benefit. Whether this is due to the scratchy midcentury warble no doubt common to records of his youth (plus, who would record straight to disc for mass consumption, after all?), the nature of the heavier selections, or the intimacy of the spoken-word opener, the fan is often made to feel thrillingly voyeuristic as Young, with looseness in his playing and (even more) quaver in his voice, in some ways reveals more than he did in all 500-plus pages of his autobiography.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s September ’14 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Moniker Guitars recently launched a line of customizable electric guitars that players design using an online configurator.
Customizing a Moniker begins with selecting among three body types: the LP-style Reedsdale, Tele-style Dixie, or Jaguar-style Zuma (all in alder and available as semi or solid). From there, options such as finish, graphics, pickups, and hardware are selected using a clickable palette, and Moniker fields personal requests via e-mail. Beyond tuner and pickup choices, options are essentially aesthetic; buyers can choose between a maple or rosewood fingerboard, for example, but there are no options for neck profiles, fretwire gauge, or nut material. This may be a downside for those seeking true custom-shop flexibility, but let’s face it – the majority of players aren’t seeking deep-tissue customization.
VG opted for a Moniker T-style Dixie solidbody in Electric Blue finish with maple fingerboard, a surf-themed pickguard, pearl-capped black Volume and Tone knobs, and chrome for the bridge-pickup surround, control plate, and Schaller locking tuners. Moniker-branded humbucker and single-coil models are standard, but we chose a pair of Seymour Duncan Vintage single-coils at an upcharge.
Moniker made good on its advertised promise of a four-week turnaround, and the finish and workmanship were pristine, the parts of high quality. The 24.75″ scale-length neck was a solid handful: C-shaped, 111/16″ at the graphite nut, 22 frets, and bolted on through a four-screw backplate. The back of the neck had the same glossy finish as the body, which made for a nice, soft feel in the palm.
With a small tweak of the truss rod, the Dixie’s action could be set low without producing fret buzz or creating dead spots; it’s not a lightning-fast neck, but comfortable for light lead work, and full six-string chords were easily fretted all the way up to 12th position. It took just a little muscle to get some edge and that signature Tele spank from the moderate-output Duncan single-coils, which was consistent with Moniker’s description of a pickup set with Broadcaster-like tones – slightly snarly leads from the bridge pickup, and warm lows/mids topped by airy highs from the neck.
Moniker is all about enabling players to make a dream design real and putting it in their hands at a reasonable price. They stamp the company name on the back of the headstock and hand-write the serial number “1/1,” making it official that the guitar you’ve designed is one of a kind.
This article originally appeared in VG April 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Gregg Wright is a force to be reckoned with. He took the top spot in the Southern California Blues Society’s annual Battle of the Blues Bands, and will move on to represent Southern California at the International Blues Challenge, in Memphis. He has opened for Albert and Freddy King, but is probably best remembered as the guitarist on The Jackson’s 1984 Victory album and tour. His live shows burn and his records inspire.
You started off playing blues, went on a detour, then returned to the blues. What happened?
Blues was the music of my parents and grandparents. I didn’t want to know nothin’ about that. I was running away from that. Initially, I liked to play loud blues-rock – Hendrix, Beck, Cream, which really was a hyperamplified form of blues. I started with that, but it was easy for me to transition into classic blues because I heard my parents play that. It was a self-acceptance thing. I had to acknowledge that the blues was in me, regardless. I had to make peace with that.
How do you manage your artistic integrity on the traditional blues circuit?
By playing what I want to play, playing what I really feel inside, and not being afraid to express that. Ultimately, you have to tell your own story. You can’t tell Muddy’s story. You can’t tell B.B’s story. You can only tell your own. My feeling is that if you are true to yourself, it tends to make things move. Don’t worry about what the market is dictating or who says what you have to do.
You’ve managed to please traditional blues fans while playing with a harder edge.
Yeah, but I’m getting ready to upset all them motherf***ers (laughs)! I’m going to make them mad. The record I’m working on right now is just insane. I’m just letting it all hang out. We’re playing real rough with this one. King Of The Rockin’ Blues was just cruise control.
Are you liberated now that you’re accepted within the blues community? Winning the Battle of the Blues Bands gives you cred.
I do what my heart tells me to do. On the new record, some of it is real rock. Some of it is real rough, but leans toward blues forms. I had time to think about things and figure out exactly what it is I wanted to do. No matter what I do, if it’s rock or even if it’s something classical, at the core of it is going to be blues. That’s where I’m from.
Who were you listening to, coming up?
Hendrix and Santana. They were rockers, but they were rockers with the soul of a jazz band. They had a jazz sensibility as far as creativity and form. Post-Abraxas Santana was deep, heavy vibe s**t with the improvisation, especially Caravanserai. That s**t is just f***ing ridiculous!
You opened for Albert and Freddy King. Did any of that rub off?
Freddy King did because he had a rock edge to him. He had a big, fat, howling tone and some funky grooves behind his s**t. He was really one of the first blues-rockers.
What kind of gear are you using?
I’ve been using a 100-watt 1×12 Marshall Valvestate combo for 15 years. I’m also using my Fret-King GWR guitar. I’m playing that exclusively. When I play the Fret-King, it’s like heaven opened up. I suddenly heard my own voice for the first time. The tone of it, the feel – you can beat the hell out of the whammy bar and that Trev Wilkinson construction stays in tune no matter what. The pickups do everything that I want. On the floor, I use an old Fulltone OCD and a Boss DD-7 Delay. It sounds really good.
When you hear stuff that comes out that sounds like nobody but you, it’s a mind blower.
What’s next for you?
I want to get the new record and the International Blues Challenge out of the way. For today’s musician, there’s never been a better time. A guy can write his own ticket if he’s clever and has enough drive. I use everything available to me – iTunes, CD Baby, selling CDs at shows, and consignments at independent record shops.
An independent musician can be like the Viet Cong; you’re a little guy coming through tunnels and messing with the greatest army in the world (laughs) – quick, streamlined, and dangerous. That’s how you have to think. Music-industry people don’t have your best interests at heart. They don’t give a s**t about music. You’re just a commodity. You could be a Kleenex for all they care.
This article originally appeared in VG April 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
We are here at the Philly show checking out all the killer guitars! Here’s a ’54 Goldtop Les Paul, 59 TV Junior, ’55 Junior, ’59 Epiphone Coronet at Best Guitars.Show promoters Gary & Bonnie Burnette of Bee-3 Vintage with a ’44 Gibson Southern Jumbo and ’39 Martin D-18 with a shaded top.
’57 blonde and 2-tone sunburst Strats, and ’65 candy apple red and 3-tone sunburst Strats on display at We Buy Guitars.
(Right to left) 1970 Gibson Super 400 CES, 1963 Martin D- 21, 1924 L-5 Loar, 1939 D-28 from Laurence Wexer Guitars.
’59 Gibson EB-2 and ’60s Fender Coronado 12-string at Southworth Guitars.The first silverburst! Jim’s Guitars displayed this ’39 Rickenbacker Model 59 at Arlington.Mid-’60s Wandre Selene at Southside Guitars.Janet Stites, Rick Hogue and Jon Bookstein of Garrett Park Guitars with an Olson 2002 acoustic, a new Fender Custom Shop Junkyard Dog ’51 Tele (limited edition run for Garrett Park Guitars), and 2004 Fender Custom Shop John Cruz StratRare ’60s longscale Supro bass at Kummer’s Vintage.Circa ’75 Strat that was formerly owned and played by the great Roy Buchanan on display at Southworth Guitars.Assorted display of vintage guitars at Guitar Center’s booth.1967 Vox Teardrop Mark VI and 1969 Ovation Tornado at Vintage Guitar Specialists.’59 and ’58 3-pickup Les Paul Customs, and a ’61 Les Paul/SG at We Buy Guitars.1964 Super Reverb at Reel Time Sight & Sound1964 Super Reverb at Reel Time Sight & Sound.A pair of Gibson 79 combo amps at Jim’s Guitars.Howie Statland from Rivington Guitars with a pair of Les Pauls.More from Philly! Here’s a Bronson Singing Electric lap steel at Hank’s Vintage.1964 Fender Vibroverb in mint condition at Reel Time Sight & Sound.An assortment of National steel guitars from Kummer’s Vintage – 1920s Style I, 1929 Style II, 1928 Style III, 1939 Style 37, 1929 Style IV, 1930 Style IV, 1928 Style IV.1940s Epiphone Electar Zephyr 7-string lap steel at Hank’s Vintage Guitars. Jim Singleton from Jim’s Guitars.1952 Goldtop Les Paul at Hank’s Vintage Guitars.’61 Fender Precision Bass, ’73 Jazz, ’66 Jazz, and ’80 Veillette-Citron bass at Hank’s Vintage Guitars.’61 Fender Champ, ’52 Deluxe and ’56 Deluxe Tweed at Garrett Park Guitars.1960 Gibson ES-330TD, 1963 ES-345TD and 1971 Telecaster Bass at Jim’s Guitars.Drew Berlin with Dave Davidson and Richie Friedman of We Buy Guitars with a ’58 Gibson Flying V.Drew Berlin and Galen Criscione with a rare early Zemaitis 12-string acoustic.SGs and a Les Paul at Southworth Guitars.An early ’60 and a late ’60 Burst from Southworth Guitars.’61 Rickenbacker Capri at Southside Guitars.Display at Southside Guitars.Luigi & Sam from Southside Guitars with a ’65 red non-reverse 3-pickup Firebird and ’65 sunburst Firebird with P-90s.
Detroit native Pete Anderson made a name for himself in the ’80s, playing a ton of twang while Dwight Yoakam sang. In the last 20 years, though, he has become known as an player who can adroitly back virtually any act, a first-rate music producer, and a record-label head.
A disciple of ’50s rock-and-roll and the blues, his guitar style was partly affected by the country music played on the family turntable by his Southern-born father. Just 16 when he first heard Muddy Waters on the radio, he later attended the initial Ann Arbor Blues Festival, where he absorbed heavy doses of B.B King, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, T-Bone Walker, and Lightnin’ Hopkins. The event turned him into a blues devotee, and his new album, Birds Above Guitarland, reflects that background. More important, though, he says, “The record is an extension of the previous one, Even Things Up, which showed me turning a page; I didn’t want to be a side man anymore, and I wanted to simplify my life. I was asking myself, ’What do I want to do?’”
That query first struck him in the mid ’90s. Whenever Yoakam’s schedule included time away from music, Anderson would assemble a band to record and do short tours. But, “That solo work ended up being something I didn’t want to simply dust off every six months. I wanted to focus on it, because it was really my future.”
Another big part of that future involved his then-new label, Little Dog Records, and a new recording studio Anderson built with his wife, who is a recording engineer.
Those who have followed his career know Anderson’s solo work has always fallen on the bluesy side.
“I played a lot of blues as a kid – I was a ’roots’ player who had quite a career playing country. I constantly studied music, even while I was playing whatever was appropriate for Dwight’s records.”
(LEFT TO RIGHT) This ’56 Fender Telecaster – refinished in red sparkle – is the primary guitar heard on Dwight Yoakam’s Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc. Etc… Anderson wrung his share of notes from this ’59 Fender Stratocaster on the Yoakam hits “Fast As You” and “Long White Cadillac.” Pete made heavy use of this ’59 Fender Tele Custom while backing Yoakam.
Birds Above Guitarland he adds, is the type of music that comes most naturally to him. “It’s the majority of my influences. And now more than ever, I’m trying to be cognizant of playing like me; guitar players are often infatuated with other peoples’ playing styles – it’s intoxicating to hear different stages of B.B. King, Albert King, Freddie King, and Robben Ford, and go, ’Man! What’s he doing?’ or ’What’s his technique?’”
Well before this newfound musical focus, Anderson had re-trained his professional efforts with Little Dog and began to groom the careers of unknown artists, serving as producer, co-songwriter, guitarist/musician, engineer, etc. – whatever needed to be done. The move helped him steer clear of being pigeonholed as a country picker.
We started our discussion with a brief look back.
What year did you start with Dwight?
We started working clubs together in ’82 or ’83 and tried to make Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc., for two years, borrowing studio time and all that, and finally got it done as an independent EP in early ’85. It’s funny, the band that recorded that album – Jeff Donovan, Brantley Kearns, myself, Dwight, and J.D. Foster – had been fired from every gig it had in Los Angeles (laughs)! Every club gig! And, pretty much every label had turned down the record.
Given your musical background and Dwight’s style, did it help at all that you were right there as the “cowpunk” surge began on the West Coast?
Yeah, we lied (laughs)! We’d tell the club, “Yeah, we’re cowpunk! We can do that.” But you have to understand, we were guys who made music for a living. We went into honky tonks and played four hours a night for 40 or 50 bucks. But it seemed if we lined up a four-night gig, we’d play two nights then get fired. If it was two nights, we did one. Playing “I Sang Dixie” got us fired!
Did audiences just not react to what you were doing?
Well, when you walk into a bar and there’s a Pac-Man machine and a pool table and a TV, you’re the distraction. The club is just covering its bets and bar owners didn’t know what they had. I’m not casting aspersions – they’re not talent scouts – but in every “country” bar, we got fired because, “You don’t play enough Alabama.” We were playing Bill Monroe and Hank, Sr. – country music. But yeah, we got fired from every club – every one.
What turned it around?
Going to play for nothin’ – clubs in the Valley didn’t pay – and we created a product. We called ourselves cowpunk – which, as far we could tell was all these young bands that had become bored with playing punk and said, “We’re gonna do country music, but like punk, ’cuz we’re revved up like hot rods.” Okay, well… rock and roll started with guys playing really loud in the garage while their parents were in the living room listening to Hank, Sr., hollering, “Turn that s**t down!” So, we went to Hollywood, told everybody we were cowpunk, got onstage and played what we play – loudly – and the press started writing about us.
Given your background and attitude toward playing guitar, were you going for anything specific stylistically, as a player back then?
When we made Dwight’s first record (the 1986 smash Guitars, Cadillacs, Etc., Etc.), I’d play Albert-Lee-styled stuff. But after that album, I thought, ’I’m not gonna do that anymore, because I’ll only be second-best. I’m gonna go down my own path and figure out how I want to play.’
Guitars of The Big Dog at Little Dog
The unique relationship between Pete Anderson and Reverend Guitars – builders of his two signature models – started when Anderson saw a Reverend ad featuring rock-rapper Kid Rock – flippin the bird! Anderson got a kick out of the fact a fellow Detroiter was sporting the appropriate attitude.
“A few years later, he called looking for a signature model,” recalls Reverend founder and designer Joe Naylor. “Apparently, he approached several companies, but no one could do what he needed.”
What Anderson needed was a new type of hollowbody – one that looked and sounded like an old pawnshop prize, but of course with modern playability and reliability. “It also had to resist howling at stage volume!” said Naylor. “I told him, ‘Yeah, we can do that, no problem’ and I think he was taken aback – maybe even suspicious. But, half a dozen prototypes and a year later, we nailed it.”
(LEDT TO RIGHT) The PA-1 has a laminated, hollow maple body, korina neck, Uni-Brace asymmetric bracing, Reverend CP90 pickups, Bigsby B70, roller bridge, and locking tuners. The PA-1 RT uses Reverend’s Revtron pickups. The Eastsider T has a chambered korina body, maple neck, and Reverend Talnico pickups. The Eastsider S has a chambered korina body, maple neck, Reverend’s Talnico bridge and Salnico middle/neck pickups, and a Wilkinson vibrato.
Naylor’s efforts made it easy when, later, Anderson wanted something… more “traditional” and very familiar to those who may have first caught him playing with Dwight Yoakam.
“Pete has a strong history with the Fender Telecaster, but we tweaked it with a lot of covert features to create the Eastsider,” Naylor said, adding. “We’ve enjoyed a great working relationship, and his signature models have been some of our best sellers.”
As you started to put together the songs for Birds Above Guitarland, were there any significant changes in your approach as a producer?
Well, the biggest plus for me is it’s the first time I said, “Hey, are the vocals loud enough?” (laughs)! I’m really happy with all of it, but very proud of the vocals.
I approach making a record as “songs come first,” then try to be creative with the guitar. I never play to impress as a guitarist; I’d much rather create a likeable song and play something within it. And that’s a slightly greater challenge. I think the ultimate example is “Midnight At the Oasis,” by Maria Muldauer. It’s a cool song and Amos Garrett played a great solo that fits but is also completely jaw-dropping. I follow players who play within songs – Steve Cropper, Cornell Dupree, Amos Garrett. James Burton always gave you a hook or something cool.
Did you also have to give some thought to your technique?
Yes. I realized that most blues guys played with their fingers, except for B.B. King and maybe Muddy Waters. Freddie King used to thumbpick. When I worked with Dwight, I started palming the pick, and eventually started playing completely with my fingers. That was a big step. Then I started to focus my left-hand technique on the blues side of the page, which is kind of deliberate and slow. So, I’ve been conscious of taking what attracts me or fits comfortably, while still being conscious of what people like, what I have that’s a little different, or what might make somebody say, “I want to hear Pete play!” That’s the goal, instead of being the second-best B.B., Albert, Freddie, Robben, Derek, or whoever.
When I’m working on melodies and harmonies, I try to create a certain intensity and fidelity. The biggest example of that would be Elmore James. I can pick up a guitar, tune it to open E or open D, grab a bottleneck slide and play (hums a melody). But I can never, ever, ever play like Elmore James (laughs)! Take that intensity and add the stylistic complexity of, say, Wes Montgomery, who played the most beautiful stuff you’ve ever heard in a fashion you never heard before. That’s what I’m thinking.
What are some personal highlights on the album?
There are a lot, like the solo on “Red Sunset Blues.” I played the melody with a baritone with tremolo, kind of spaghetti-western, then used my Reverend Eastsider for the solo, and played stuff I had never played before – complex, exotic playing that was completely different. I also love the solo on “Out of the Fire” which is sort of an updated honky-tonk/Bill Doggett/multi-interval thing.
Which amps do we hear on the album?
Well, for the most part, I play through a very old Line 6 Pod – first-generation. In the early days of that company, Tim Godwin was their artist rep, and he got me involved. We modeled two of my amps – a blackface Fender Deluxe I had used in the Dwight era and I beefed up with a Twin transformer, and my Silvertone 1489. And they did a great job on both. If you put them side-by-side through a cab with the same speaker, some air around them, and a bit of noise, like beer bottles clinking – you won’t be able to tell the difference. So that’s what I use for the most part, direct. My engineer, Tony Rambo, lives to re-amp guitar parts, so we did some of that through the Silvertone on the bluesier, Chicago-style stuff. We fired up my old blackface Deluxe and mixed and matched cabinets.
What’s the story behind the blackface Fender Twin you bought from Jody Maphis – the son of Joe and Rose Lee Maphis, who is now a guitar player and a drummer in Nashville.
I don’t remember how we started talking about it, but he goes, “I’ve got an old Twin.” I said, “Really? I’m looking for one.” And he said, “Yeah, it’s a blackface something. So, he brought it out and it was all beat up! I asked, “What do you want for it?” He said, “200 bucks. Everything works.” I was on the road at the time, so I had him drop if off with my road manager, and as I was getting on the bus, he was laughing, “Hey that piece of junk Jody Maphis brought over is [in the luggage hold].” He thought Jody had pulled a quick one. But I cleaned it up, gave it the once-over, replaced tubes and stuff, then put it in a new cabinet. I also did a mod created by Jim Williams (a renowned amp tech in the L.A. area) where you change the value of the Bright switch.
What was the motivation for modding it?
When I was touring early on, I’d use two Deluxes, but they just weren’t loud enough. So I figured I’d get a Twin. Thing is, a Twin doesn’t sound much like a Deluxe, so I asked Jim, who is a brilliant designer-type and a Deluxe freak, and he said, “The Bright switch is wrong – it’s not the value of a Deluxe.” I said, “There is no Bright switch on a Deluxe…” And he goes, “Yes, there is. It’s just that Leo saved the money and didn’t put the actual switch on it, but instead he gave it a value and shorted it (across the Volume potentiometer).
I run it with the Middle on 10, Bass on 4, Treble on 5, put the Volume on 2 or, 3 – which is really loud for a Twin. I put two EVs in it, hit the Bright switch, and it’s like a giant Deluxe. Every steel player that comes in my studio wants that amp.
Do you ever run a boutique amp?
I have a Zinky Tonemaster, and it is one of the greatest amps of all time. It adds real punch, sort of like an old-school blond Bandmaster – killer, beautiful power, just a muscular amp. We use it whenever we want something a little more husky.
(LEFT) This Silvertone 1472 sees a good bit of action in Anderson’s recording studio. (RIGHT) Anderson’s modified Fender Deluxe Reverb is fitted into a taller cabinet to house a 15″ Eminence Speaker.
Which guitars did you use on the disc? You now have two signature models from Reverend…
Yes, I’m so happy with the Reverends that I used them on the whole record, except for the Tom Anderson baritone on “Red Sunset.” But all the soloing and other parts were my Eastsider, which has a korina body, two pickups, a multi-radius fingerboard with 6105 frets, an Earvana compensated nut, and locking tuners. I also used my PA-1, which is the first one we did together. It’s a hollowbody with a Bigsby, and on my personal one I installed a set of Seymour Duncan vintage-style humbuckers on a P-90 chassis, so they fit in the guitar comfortably.
On “Empty Everything,” I might have also used the Epiphone Joe Pass I completely tortured and that served as the prototype for the PA-1. The song has a very Chicago-blues feel, and I wanted to use the old-school Harmony pickups in that guitar because they’re really, really distorted.
As a label owner and record producer, what are some of your best memories of the last 20 years?
Well, we got in on the ground floor of what’s now Americana. Its needle has been up and down, and now it’s up again because of Mumford and Sons, acoustic guitars, and people are coming around to that being a viable musical “style” for lack of a term.
I couldn’t be more proud of the records we’ve made on Little Dog, and I’d go into any label-head card game and say, “Here’s my Joy Lynn White, here’s my Adam Hood, here’s my Moot Davis.” I’m very, very happy with our catalog and I’ve never made a record that I was not completely enthralled with.
And now, of course, it has become a digital world. I’m reformulating my distribution and making sure it’s locked down. I’ve been handling distribution internally, and it’s very difficult on top of simply running the label, my career, the studio… So we’re getting ready to jump into the digital thing really hard. One thing about that is you can do compilation records very easily. In the digital world, you come up with some art and a sequence, so I want to start doing The Roots of Americana Volumes 1-12 or whatever, and expose more people to the artists who are or were part of Little Dog.
It’s funny how the paradigm has shifted. It used to be if you didn’t have a record label, you weren’t in the business because record companies controlled the studios, the distribution chain, access to the media, and access to record stores. Now, the last thing you need is a record deal. Now, the recording studio is your laptop, distribution is your web page. The majority of what a record company offered is now irrelevant.
Photo: Will Seyffert.
What are some of the harder lessons you’ve learned from running a label?
Well, I learned that I can’t love what an artist does more than the artist themself does. That was a big lesson. When you see somebody’s talent and want to make a record and help them be successful, but they don’t want it as much… I can’t be more excited about you than you are. And that’s tough, because I see some stuff where I go, “Geez, this is brilliant!” I’m a sucker for great songwriting and talent, but I can’t work with someone with a lack of will. So few people have the same intensity and concentration that Dwight and I had.
That sort of ambition is pretty rare?
I hate to say it, but I think it is. It’s just not something I see every day. The story of Pete and Dwight is about two guys who literally came from nowhere and willed themselves a career, hearing “No” at every turn. “We don’t need you. We don’t want you.” I stood there from day one with a song called “I Sang Dixie” – one of the greatest country songs of all time – thinking, “What am I missing here?” But we kept going and that first album, against all odds, sold two million copies.
This article originally appeared in VG December 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Tommy Castro: Lewis MacDonald.Fans of Tommy Castro might be shocked with some of the guitar tones on his latest record, The Devil You Know. His straightforward R&B sounds are still there, but, he says, “I had fun trying new stuff.”
On his dozen or so career albums, Castro has made significant effort to mix it up.
“I’ve done the big-band thing with the horns, and had a great time doing that,” he said. “I remember I had the smaller band and thought it’d be great with the horns – and I could do it to sound more authentic. Then I really started getting into these guitar-and-drum bands. I thought it was a great idea, just a guitarist and drummer, which sounds killer, like the White Stripes. I was really digging that. But then I saw Tab Benoit with a trio, and it sounded too cool. There was all this space, but it was very groovy and rhythmic. That setting gives the guy on guitar a chance to play. I thought, ‘Next time, I’ll cut things down.’”
The new disc has the tried-and-true funk R&B Castro has always dealt, with his slinky guitar tone and leather-lung vocals. The title cut, however, shows a different side of his guitar tone.
“It’s an interesting combination of gear. I used an Echoplex, an Octofuzz, and a phase shifter. I wanted a big, fuzzy, wacky, gnarly tone for the fills. It was so fun I felt like a kid playing with toys. I just cranked it up and played.
“I wanted to take it up a notch. I’ve never been happy with my guitar playing – I had a career before I was [a decent] player and I’ve been trying to catch up. I’ve made a few improvements, working with tones and different effects and guitars. In the old days, I played my old Strat into a Super with reverb. That was about it.”
Showing a sense of humor about his playing, he adds with a laugh, “I didn’t know I was going to have a career that lasted so long. So I finally got tired of that tone. After a while I just felt I had to do something else.”
Castro pulled in some help from very talented friends, too, starting with the producer, Bonnie Hayes.
“She’s a songwriting expert,” he said. “She’s a great songwriter and teaches it in colleges and camps. She really knows her way around, works fast, but she is really all about songs. So, her and I collaborated on a few things and she helped shore up some other things that were in the works.”
Other folks who helped on the album include Benoit, Marcia Ball, Joe Bonamassa, and, on harp, former J. Geils member Magic Dick. “There was a plan, but I didn’t know who would be on it. On my last album, I made a point of having no guests. I was actually silly enough to think that was going to be my hook! It was going to be ‘the record with no guests’ because everyone was putting out records with guests. But for this one, I just kind of left it up to the universe to see who would be on the album.”
For much of the record, Castro used his most-familiar guitar, a black ’60s Strat, but also grabbed “a whole bunch of things. To be honest, I’m in limbo at the moment,” he said. “I have my Strat and a Firebird I got from Gibson a couple years ago that I’ve been using a lot for slide. But, I’m building a Warmoth with their Jazzcaster body and a Strat neck. I’m going to put a humbucker on the bridge, a P-90 in the bridge and a Strat pickup on the neck. I figure that might be a very interesting guitar because I won’t have to switch much to get the different sounds. It’ll be black with a white-pearl pickguard.”
Among his amplifiers, Castro relies mostly on a Mesa Boogie TA-30, though he had access to many different amps in the studio while making the new record.
Beyond the different guitar sounds, Castro says long-time listeners will hear other differences. “We started approaching the music from the drums up,” he said. “We wanted to make a record that didn’t have all the same grooves and beats. I had a little epiphany. Started listening to all this music I was really digging, and noticed all their great different approaches to rhythms. I realized I had been using the same beats over and over. Not much variation. So, we really had fun with that and I’m really pleased with the way things worked out. And, I think it’s more than a little different!”
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.
As he gears up for a co-headlining tour with Ozzy Osbourne guitarist Gus G., Marty Friedman has 13 solo albums of his own material to pick through. He’s going on the road in support of his latest album, Inferno. The album includes guest appearances by Alexi Laiho, Danko Jones, Rodrigo Y Gabriela, and Jason Becker, and offers the most uncompromising music of his career.
Inferno sounds like maximum-strength Friedman… with no artificial additives.
Definitely. A lot of factors go into the kind of record you’re making. As an artist, you try to ignore everything and just make the best album you can. Some of those factors – like record-label recommendations or your manager telling you to be more like this or that – tend to creep in. I’ve been lucky that they haven’t crept in so terribly much in my career, but this time I was like, “F**k everybody!” On this record, I am not listening to anyone, and I’m not doing anything that I’m not completely in love with. For better or worse, it’s really pretty much my bag right there.
When you were in the writing stage, did you know you were going to have guests on the record?
I knew that I wanted to have some cool guests on the record, but I didn’t want it to be the typical thing where a guest comes in and just plays a solo on a song. That has been done to death, and I’ve done it, too. This album was all about breaking those kinds of typical things. I wanted a commitment. I wanted to work on a song together so it really was like we’re in a band together – our band for that one song. I wanted to make something we both have an investment in.
I wrote the songs with the actual guest; a lot of time, it’s their song. I just rearranged it, produced it, and played my guitars on it. It’s like a complete band rather than a guest performance. For me, it was the best decision I ever made. I wanted something deeper, and I got it.
How did you go about getting Rodrigo Y Gabriella to guest?
The idea was to have guests who were influenced by me in some way, and they’ve mentioned my influence several times in the press. I hadn’t met them, but the record company suggested I go see them play in Tokyo. So, I met them and they were absolutely the sweetest people. They were the first to immediately jump on and do the record. I became a fan of theirs that night.
Regardless of how popular a player is or how well they’re doing, there’s something about playing on someone’s album whom you respect as a fan. You get this kind of excitement.
What went into getting Jason Becker?
We’ve been best friends forever. I didn’t know if he was up for doing a collaboration like he and I used to do in [the ’80s speed metal band] Cacophony, but when I saw his movie, Not Dead Yet… there’s a scene where he’s working on a piece of music with his dad. I called him and asked if it was being used for anything. He said, “No, I’m not using it… And I have a bunch of other stuff, too. Let’s make a song.”
It was exactly how we used to write in Cacophony. I’d have the basic outline of an entire song and take a bunch of his ideas and stick them in where I thought they would go nicely. The only difference is he wasn’t able to play the stuff he wrote. I had Ewan Dobson play the role of Jason on the acoustic parts, and he just tore it up. He was mind-boggling in capturing Jason’s spirit. It was like Jason was in the room.
Danko Jones does an awesome job on vocals.
If Danko and I were in the same band, that’s exactly what we would sound like. Inferno has more ripping on it than any of my albums before, but Danko and I in the same band would be the coolest thing. When he got onboard, I was very excited.
I love my playing in a band context. Being a solo artist, you’re in the front all the time. It’s a little bit awkward for a guitarist to be the front man. It takes a lot of ego, and patience from the listener; I can’t really listen to guitar in the front all the time – it sounds so much better after a vocal in a lot of cases. I really wanted to have that vocal stuff to play off of, and a band context for a lot of the record.
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.
The members of Lionize blend heavy rock with reggae to create infectious tunes… kind of like if the guys in Deep Purple were Rastafarians wrapped in trippy sci-fi imagery. Nate Bergman is the SG-wielding architect of the group, and recently shared the strategy on the band’s latest album.
You guys worked hard on Jetpack Soundtrack.
We’re a rehearsal-oriented band; we demo’ed for a year, and when home, Monday through Friday from 11 a.m to four p.m., we go in the basement and jam. We spent six months doing that; we record, listen back, and get a feel for the sound – tempos and ideas.
One of the producers, Jean-Paul Gaster, has a great studio in his house, and we spent eight months there taking ideas and trimming the fat. He was a huge part of finding the [best] parts.
Are you a riff collector, or do you make up stuff together?
All of the above. Six times out of 10, we’re coming up with it off the cuff, just jamming. Someone might have an idea for a melody; sometimes, Hank has a bass line, or Chris will come with most of a tune. If most are more upbeat and rock, we’ll approach one with a slower, sort of reggae, vibe.
There’s cool use of dynamics on the record.
Dynamics have been missing in rock bands. Our favorite bands – Deep Purple, Sabbath, Led Zeppelin – they’re so multifaceted; it’s heavy, it’s loud, then suddenly it’s an acoustic guitar with tablas. It’s boring if you don’t look for new ways to present a song; dynamics and volume are an easy fix.
You keep changing your rig.
I wasn’t satisfied with how older Marshall plexis thin-out and the newer ones don’t sound like the old ones, so I had an amp built by Brooks Harlan, of Big Crunch. He makes an amp called the One Knob. It’s basically my hybrid of a JCM800 and a plexi. It’s 120 watts, and you just turn the knob up. Then, I got hip to the Laney Pro Tube heads. My rig blended two Laney heads with a treble booster in front of a plexi. The One Knob was on every track, with the SG or a thinline Tele.
Are you a pedal guy?
I’ve investigated tons of modern pedals and tones, but it never gets better than an SG into a tube head turned all the way up with some Vintage 30s. I’m a firm believer that your Volume knob is your boost, but I have a Dunlop MXR Classic Blue Box Octave Fuzz. I also have a 1972 Thomas Organ Wah, a Line 6 DL4, a Keeley Java Boost, and a couple treble boosters.
What are the specifics on the SG?
It’s an ’06 Classic. A friend makes pickups and wired a pair of humbuckers that blend a P-90 and a humbucker. I also had fatter frets put on, and Grover tuners.
There’s less reggae on the new album.
It’s present, but merged with other sounds. To me, there’s a syncopated bass-and-drum thing that makes it reggae. We’re a rock band that loves reggae, funk, and jazz. Jetpack Soundtrack is the evolution of that sound.
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.
The members of Lionize blend heavy rock with reggae to create infectious tunes… kind of like if the guys in Deep Purple were Rastafarians wrapped in trippy sci-fi imagery. Nate Bergman is the SG-wielding architect of the group, and recently shared the strategy on the band’s latest album.