Tag: features

James Elkington tweaked the paradigm when he began working at a luthier shop before hitting his stride as a guitarist. Born and raised in a small English village northwest of London, his interest in the guitar blossomed relatively late.

“It seemed the coolest instrument on offer and, as most of us guitar players have found out, it’s immediately kind of gratifying; compared to the violin, you can make quite musical sounds on the guitar without having any idea of what you’re doing.”

The aesthetics of guitars were also appealing to the aspiring player.

“Clarinets all look the same, but the fact that a Fender Jazzmaster can be as different to look at as a Gretsch White Falcon, and still operate the same way, was amazing to me,” Elkington said.  “I used to spend entire math classes drawing Vox Phantoms. When I was 13, the first Smiths album came out, and it struck me that I wanted to do exactly that.”

Moving to London to purse his musical fortune, Elkington became frustrated when his ideas didn’t pan out, and a sour experience working at a music store added to his disenchantment. However, a move to the U.S. and employment at Specimen Products turned his quest in the appropriate direction.

“When I moved to Chicago and met Ian Schneller at Specimen, I had to change my policy,” he said. “Working for him was so completely unlike working at a regular music store that you can’t even compare them. He’s an artist, and he works on guitars and amps as a means to fund his sonic experiments. Even though I’d been tooling around with guitars most of my life, I didn’t know much about the mechanics of them, and he taught me all about it.”

Among the musical aggregations in which Elkington has gigged is the Horse’s Ha, and that group’s recently-released second album, Waterdrawn, is decidedly different.

“Janet [Bean] and I had started out as a duo, but the band had expanded to a quintet by the time we put the first album together,” he recounted. “Everyone in that band is an in-demand musician in Chicago, and scheduling became difficult, plus the band really wasn’t making enough money to justify dragging everyone out of town, so instead of making the next album the same way, I shelved all the songs in favor of writing and recording a record that Janet and I could play and promote by ourselves.”

Waterdrawn has a stripped-down sound that evokes comparisons to English folk artists like Pentangle, and, not surprisingly, Elkington is a fan of the late guitarist Bert Jansch.

“That music is a big influence, for sure, though the content of the songs is quite personal to us – there aren’t any ‘Reynardine’ covers in there,” he said.  “Folk music was very derided in England when I was growing up in the ’80s, and as a result, I didn’t hear very much of it.  It was only when I moved to the U.S. and started writing songs that someone mentioned to me that they thought I must be into Bert Jansch – which I really wasn’t – and when I finally got hold of some, it was a revelation. Jansch continues to be an influence, and I’m glad to say that I got to meet him a couple of times before he died.”

Elkington used a budget-model Martin 000-1 on the album, as well as a Yamaha 12-string tuned down, and a National lap steel. Bean played a Weber mandola, and both used alternate tunings and capos to evoke unique sounds on songs such as “A Stoney Valentine” and “Stick Figure Waltz.”

With other bands, Elkington uses electric guitars, and espouses a utilitarian view of them.

“I’ve seen so many collectible guitars that are absolutely no fun to play, and I really have no interest in that for myself, so almost every guitar I have has different pickups from stock and has been re-fretted. I play Telecasters, for the most part, and my main guitar is a red one with a pre-CBS neck and an ’80s body. I’ve also got a couple of parts Teles I take on the road, and they all have Lindy Fralin pickups, which are wired in series as well as parallel to make them a little thicker-sounding. I have a Danelectro and a Teisco from the ’60s that I like, a ’66 Fender Jaguar that I’ve had since I was 18, and a Sho-Bud pedal steel I haven’t been able to make any sense of yet.”

An expectant parent when VG conversed with him, Elkington, stresses that family comes first. “I have so many unfinished projects at this point that I’ll be glad just to be in Chicago working on those between diaper changes,” he said.

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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.

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Aerosmith’s 2011 Back On the Road tour was a two-month jaunt that consisted of 18 shows and took the band to places it had never been in Latin America before concluding in Japan. Normally, such a tour doesn’t create much hoopla, but this was different. The band hadn’t played there in seven years, but more pertinent was the fact the country was just six months removed from its greatest natural disaster – the Tohoku earthquake. Centered 43 miles off the northeast coast, the U.S. Geological Survey said it was the most powerful earthquake to hit Japan, and the fifth most powerful in the world since modern record-keeping began in 1900. Its devastation carried beyond mere earth shaking, as it triggered tsunami waves that reached more than 130 feet in height and traveled some six miles inland, killing thousands and damaging several nuclear power plants that forced hundreds of thousands to evacuate their homes. By the time of Aerosmith’s arrival in November, its people were primed for musical distraction.

A new DVD, Rock for the Rising Sun, documents that tour’s eight shows in Japan. Assembled by music-video director/documentarian Casey Patrick Tebo, who has worked with the band for a decade, the film reveals that nation’s love for the band, which has a unique depth and passion expressed by Nobu Tanaka, an Aerosmith fan who has seen more than 150 shows in various places around the world. Asked about the connection he and so many of his countrymen feel, Tanaka cites the cohesion that comes with having been together for decades, and how they “…play from the heart.” We spoke about the tour with guitarist Brad Whitford, the man who crafted some of the band’s grittiest, tastiest, licks – “Last Child,” “Nobody’s Fault,” “Round and Round,” to name a few – as well as the lead breaks on “Sick as a Dog,” “Back In the Saddle” and the band’s early ballads “You See Me Crying” and “Home Tonight.” He was also key in the late-’80s Permanent Vacation comeback (he co-wrote the title track) and the band’s ’90s rebirth. More recently, he has worked as a music producer, played a few stops on the 2010 Experience Hendrix tour, and was even made a playable character in a Guitar Hero game

Was the tour documented on the DVD scheduled before the tsunami, or put together afterward?

After; we have so many friends and fans there, and we were shocked and saddened with that horrific set of circumstances – all those things at once. When the opportunity came up, we really felt we had to go and give the people a couple of hours of not having to think about the incredible set of circumstances they were living with. We felt we owed it to them.

The setlist on the DVD includes some great old material. Do you think the band’s current fans – most of whom were born well after those songs and albums were popular – appreciate the old songs?

Sure. There’s a lot of people – myself included – who really love all that very early stuff. When you’re in the springtime of your musical career, it’s very fruitful, you know? You have that energy and enthusiasm that’s almost uncontainable. It was a great time for us, and those songs bring it back. I do get a lot of, “When you gonna play this or that?” Usually, I can only tell them, “Uhhh, maybe!”

On that tour, did the setlist change much from night to night?

It didn’t change a lot. We usually have a basic list to start, and typically change one or two songs. We have so many songs, but of course we can’t fit them all into a two-and-a-half-hour window. Changing it up a little from night to night makes it more interesting.

For the band and the fans we see on the DVD who rode the bullet train from show to show…

Oh yeah, …and they always have requests. But yeah, one of our fans (Tanaka) was with us in Singapore and Australia – the guy travels the world to see us.

As we see on the DVD, you stick to playing a Tele, a Strat, and a Les Paul. Do you try to stay true to the original sound of each song?

Sometimes it’s about trying to be true to the original track, but I’m not terribly strict about that. It’s a combination of things; sometimes it depends on what Joe’s playing and I want to make sure the tones are complementary and not getting muddy. My guitars are straight out of the rock-and-roll tool box – a Les Paul, a Strat, and a Tele. You can get an awful lot done with those three instruments. A lot of times, I need to make it work in a specific environment; I use a lot more Stratocaster these days, just for the clarity, and I know it’s not going to get lost. They cut through better, they just do.

How would you describe Aerosmith’s relationship with its fans?

I’d say it has evolved into something special. Our shows reflect a great appreciation for what the band and the audience each bring to the table, and we’re playing at the top of our game right now; it’s probably the most fun we’ve ever had. It’s pretty rare to keep this kind of thing rolling with the same guys for so long… That’s not easy to do.

Do you think fans in Japan, especially, appreciate that the lineup has been so stable for so long?

Well, I think they’re more adoring. When we first started going to Japan, before we’d start a song, the crowd would go dead silent because they didn’t want to miss a note of it. So we didn’t hear that typical auditorium “buzz.” It was a little hard to get used to, at first. You play almost anywhere else in the world, the arena is full of conversation, this and that. But, in Japan, they’d sit, just waiting. They might sing along, but they’d wait until the very end of the song to applaud and whatever, then go silent again. They have a special kinship with music.

Obviously, very respectful…

Yeah, a deep appreciation. And it makes you want to deliver for them, you know? Also, a higher percentage of them travel to every show, usually on the bullet train. We rode the train to every stop with some of them, and stayed in the same hotels. But they’re never pushy or anything. They just want to be there.

Which amps are you playing through these days?

Live, I’ve been using a combination of Paul Reed Smith and 3 Monkeys amps. I have a very close relationship with Paul Smith and Doug Sewell, who builds the amps for Paul. Simply put, they’re great old Marshalls (laughs), but they don’t blow up! I love them. The 3 Monkeys was built for me, and it’s 100-watt based on a Marshall. Joe is using actual Marshalls. Yesterday, I heard some stuff from our first album, and I was floored at the sound of the guitars. It was recorded on 16-track – no monkey business, right to tape. Boy, that’s the sound!

How do you compare and contrast your style and sound to Joe’s?

That’s a tough question… I think the best way to describe it would be that he plays more from his gut while I try to play from my gut but maybe intellectualize it a little more; I want to play it like he plays it! When he’s on, he’s incomparable. And, he’s more of a showman than I am, for sure. I’m happy to just be up there playing (laughs), but he rides the wave more, and on the past couple of tours he has gone to new levels, which makes it that much more fun for me.

In what ways is Aerosmith today better than ever?

There’s an appreciation for what we’ve done, and the level of musicianship has gone up. And, I think, we’ve gone back to just playing from the heart, wanting to recapture that initial energy, where we didn’t think about it, but just went for it. That’s really where it needs to come from, what makes it special and unique. It’s all about the performance; I wish we could take it to that level in the studio, we haven’t got back there yet. I keep pushing it, I keep trying to stop the ProTools people at the door, because I just don’t like that stuff anymore. And, I’m seeing all these young bands go into the studio with no click track – just a 24-track machine, no computers anywhere in sight, getting records pressed on vinyl. You listen to them and you go, “Oh my god! You can still do it. We should go in and do it like that!” It sounds so great.

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This article originally appeared in VG October 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Very early in life, Mark Knopfler had a connection with music. His mother cared for the family while BBC programs like “Listen with Mother” played on the radio with its child-oriented stories, songs, and nursery rhymes. But it was an uncle named Kingsley who had the biggest impact on young Mark’s informal music education when he entertained the family by playing piano, harmonica, and banjo. Though the boy very much wanted to jam along on a fancy red Fender Strat like the one played by Hank Marvin, like every other kid in England at the time, he had to settle for something like the Höfner Super Solid bought by his parents.

At 16, Knopfler formed a vocal duo with a school friend and the two played folk clubs in their hometown of Newcastle upon Tyne. Several years later, while studying journalism in college and working as a cub reporter for the Yorkshire Evening Post, he interviewed a local musician named Steve Phillips, who not only introduced him to the music of many more folk and blues performers, but turned him on to the resonator guitar. By his late 20s, Knopfler was firmly focused on making music, writing songs, and performing. In early 1977, he and his guitarist brother, David, formed a band with bassist John Illsley and drummer Pick Withers. Within a few months, they had recorded a five-song demo that included a song called “Sultans of Swing” that was getting airplay on BBC Radio London. The exposure led to being signed by the Phonogram label, recording their first album, a tour opening for Talking Heads, and in turn a U.S. record deal with Warner Brothers.

With their self-titled debut album as springboard, Dire Straits spent the next several years rising to stardom. The disc reached the top 20 in the U.S., and in some parts of the world shared Top 5 sales spots with the band’s own follow-up, Communique. By the end of 1980, they’d released a third album, Making Movies, and were the recipients of growing acclaim that already included Grammy nominations for Best New Artist and Best Rock Vocal Performance by a Duo or Group (both garnered thanks to the international success of “Sultans of Swing”).

In May of 1985, the band released its fifth studio album, Brothers in Arms, which included the song “Money For Nothing.” Though it contained a controversial lyric line, its wit, irony, intro (with vocals by Sting, borrowing the melody from “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” while singing “I want my MTV!”), huge ZZ-Top-inspired guitar riff rendered on a Gibson Les Paul Standard, and super-hooky chorus made it an instant – and huge – international hit. The album has sold 25 million copies worldwide and in the U.K. was the biggest-selling album of the ’80s. It was also the first album to ship a million copies on compact disc, all but cementing it as the preeminent format for music distribution at the time.

In the nearly 30 years since, Knopfler has written music for several films, played and recorded with Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, the late Chet Atkins and many others, been invested by the Prince of Wales with England’s OBE designation, had a dinosaur named after him, and become known for his charity work and passion for the land and people of northeast England.
His most recent recording, Privateering, is his eighth solo album and first double disc. Delivered with the help of fellow guitarist Richard Bennett and bassist Glenn Worf, both of whom have accompanied him since the mid ’90s, it has the bare-bones sound and approach that has largely defined Knopfler’s style and holds strong to the tradition of the singer/songwriter, emanating from myriad musical experiences and personal emotions.

“I have always thought in terms of the transatlantic nature of music,” he says of the album. “My idea of heaven is somewhere where the Mississippi Delta meets the Tyne. What I wanted, from the very first album with Dire Straits and songs like ‘Sultans of Swing,’ was to write my own geography into the American music that shaped me, to identify the English, Irish, and Scottish landmarks on Chuck Berry’s road. I think what I’m doing now is both synthesizing those influences and separating them. The band I have is so talented and so flexible they give me a kind of palette to go anywhere I want. I can jump from a hill farm in the north of England and go straight to the streets of New York city or down to the delta for a straight-ahead blues.”

We recently spoke with Knopfler to discuss Privateering and get a feel for his sentiments regarding his life and music.

What do you remember most about your early exposure to blues music and other American styles?
I remember clearly; I didn’t actually know that it was blues, per se, because I was six years old, maybe even younger. But I was listening to my uncle, Kingsley, playing boogie-woogie piano, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I thought, “This is for me.” And of course, later, when I got deep in the blues, it made complete sense. At the age of 15, I was getting into electric blues, which music fans were starting to get switched onto – the B.B. Kings and the Buddy Guys, Paul Butterfield, and others playing at the time.

About three years after that, I started hearing a bit of Big Bill Broonzy and Josh White, and then, when I was 19 or 20, started to get much more into country blues, as well. So, I sort of worked backward with the blues, and I’m still loving all of it, of course.

When I got to know Steve Phillips, we got to do a lot of playing together. Steve had a record collection with a lot of good blues, so it was like “University of the Blues” for me; I was deeply immersed in that stuff for a lot of the time and wanted to play a lot of blues. It was good, because in my younger days, I couldn’t afford an amplifier, so I borrowed a friend’s acoustic guitar and played in folk joints, getting exposed to folk music, as well; I’ve always had an interest in folk music and the blues, acoustic music and electric music – always a wide front. And learning to do a basic fingerpick at an early age is a good thing for any guitar player because it opens their world. I was doing a lot of straight pick playing, then slowly but surely, the fingers started to win. I started breaking the rules a bit and developed what you’d call my “style.” Really, it’s just from sitting and falling asleep while playing (laughs)!

What influenced you most as the songs came together for Privateering?
I’d been writing a lot, and I’ve always written different kinds of blues as well as the other stuff. I’m that way about folk music, too; I want it to be its own thing and don’t really believe in any “kind” in particular. Certainly, where folk music is concerned, I don’t believe in any orthodoxy at all. I like the idea of putting in whatever I like.

We cut the blues songs with Kim Wilson, who was great on the sessions, and what you hear is pretty much exactly what we did. I didn’t want them to have a heavily mixed feel, so they were cut to the bone on the floor and they’re very much the way we did them – they don’t have overdubs except for a small bit of guitar on “Miss You Blues,” where I played the picked part with Tim O’Brien playing mandolin and Kim [on harmonica]. Those sessions were great – so much fun. And when we “mixed” them, I wanted it to sound like it did when we cut the songs. So, I guess some of the songs are very orthodox in a sense that they are very much period blues, in their way – they don’t have synths (laughs); it’s mostly straight piano as far as the keyboards are concerned, with some Hammond on “Blood and Water.”

You cite your band often. What makes it so special?
Well, we’ve been playing around each other for a long time, and everybody trusts everybody else, basically. We’re used to working with each other, but some of these guys I’ve been with since ’95, so I know what they can do, and they know what they can do, so nobody chases other people around their parts. There’s a lot of confidence. If somebody feels a part isn’t right for them, he’s happy to lay out – nobody feels they have to be in on anything. Certainly, I don’t get in their way… I try not to, anyway.

The album is a showcase for anyone who appreciates guitar music; there’s electric, slide, resonator, acoustic, and you have guests like Tim O’Brien on mandolin. Does the choice of instrument guide the music, or is it the other way around?
It’s vice-versa, I think. In terms of the songwriting, what I’m holding certainly tended to dictate. I’ve usually got an acoustic guitar when I’m fooling around at home, so most of the writing would be around that. And, if I’m taking a look at the songs, it will usually be with an acoustic in my hand.

The guitar I’ve been playing more than any other over the past few years is a D-18 Martin from 1935. It was a present from a friend and there’s just something about it; it has a lot of character – very slatey, kind of dry, but a beautiful sound.

Another acoustic that gets itself onto records is the Gibson Advanced Jumbo from 1938, which has the Brazilian (back and side) tone. It’s a different thing. They’re both interesting in that they’re jumbo-shaped flat-tops, but you can fingerpick on them. If I want to use a pick and strum a part, usually I’ll use my ’53 Gibson Southern Jumbo, which has a nice, even strum thing going on with itself.

Another guitar that finds its way into a lot of songs is a mini Martin they did a run of a few years back. They did about 100 of them, and I really love it. It’s a six-string, but tuned up a third of an octave, so it’s just great for little parts. And of course the National tends to find its way onto records all the time – I don’t know why! It’s a Style O from the early ’30s.

I’ve also been enjoying a Danelectro 59 DC, which I used for the slide part on “Miss You Blues.” Onstage, I started using a white ’65 Strat for slide. I used that guitar on Sailing to Philadelphia and brought it back out to the stage. It’s a beautiful-sounding thing for slide. I usually play my signature Strat or, if I’m doing a pick-and-whammy-bar thing, my ’54, which is another present from the same friend. I put heavy strings on it, with a wound third. It’s usually a toss-up between the ’54 and the Gretsch 6120 from ’57. I like those for just playing notes with a pick and holding the whammy bar in my hand and get the vibrato from my picking motion. Believe it or not, those early Gretsch pickups have a very similar sound. But every now and again, I’ll press my Telecaster into action, which is a ’54. And sometimes I use a ’66 Tele Custom I’ve had since the early Dire Straits.

Your sound through the years has mostly been associated with a clean, slinky, Strat tone, but on your biggest hit song, “Money For Nothing,” you played a vintage Les Paul Standard. Which Les Pauls do you play now?
My ’58 [Standard]. Every now and again the ’59 will come into it, and I really like playing an ES-330 that Tony Joe White gave me a long time ago; it’s a great guitar.

Are there any non-vintage instruments that have caught your favor?
I really like the Grosh ElectroJet – it’s a great guitar. And the 12-string Burns Double 6 – a more-recent hand-made one, really precision-made and beautiful. It works really well.

Which guitars did Richard Bennett use on the album?
He used a lot of guitars, because we were over [in England]; he’d usually pick an old Kraftsman, a Harmony Meteor, or a J-45 I had. He played my Advanced, and I have a ’37 D’Angelico he loves.

Did Glenn stay fairly traditional in his choice of basses?
Glenn played various basses, but usually an early Precision I have. He’s always very happy to play that when we’re in England.

Which amps do we hear most on the record?
The usual suspects; there are four or five I go to all the time. On the blues stuff, I’ve been playing my ’59 Fender Bassman. For a lot of the other stuff I used a Reinhardt Talyn, which is a fantastic amp, I love it. There’s a Reinhardt Storm that’s great, too. I also have an older Komet that’s a great amp, as well – very powerful if ever I need it. In fact, it has so much power that sometimes I have to keep it back onstage – put an Airbrake on it. Ken Fischer built it himself and it’s just great. I talked to Ken about it quite a bit; it’s called Linda.

I also have an old Marshall and I use an old 4×12 cabinet with it; I like a lot of the big amps, like the Komet and the Reinhardts, but for the smaller stuff I’m very often just playing my old Tone King Imperial, which sounds great again – like the old ones. If you buy a Tone King now, you’re getting a really great amplifier. It seems they’re getting closer to the original sound.

For really pure tone, I need a real Fender Vibrolux – the old brown-tolex one. Just bashing around on the road, just done three lump tours – two with Bob Dylan and one on my own around Europe, and I took a couple Tone Kings – one for playing with Bob’s band. If ever there was a contest for that kind of sound, I’d put up the Vibrolux and the Tone King and see which is right for the song. Though I must say, the Reinhardts can often beat those two – they’re phenomenal.

Most of the sounds on the album where you hear a straight, clear tone, very often it’s the Tone King on the rhythm channel.

From its inception, Dire Straits didn’t fit any musical mold, and surely didn’t fit into the scene of the late ’70s, where punk rock was the flavor of the day. Still, the band had immediate and lasting impact. As a performer today, Knopfler remains beyond classification. And while rock stars mostly “survive” trips to the top by simply living to tell, with Knopfler it was more about tolerating overwhelming mass-media attention that flew in the face of his personal sensibilities. But he sallied on, and today continues to make music of the highest caliber.

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This article originally appeared in VG Febuary 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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After decades away from the music scene, guitarist Wally Stocker is back on his feet again and back where he belongs, playing lead guitar with a new lineup in The Babys. From 1977 to ’80, the group amassed a string of radio-friendly hits including “Isn’t It Time,” “Every Time I Think of You,” “Head First,” “Back on My Feet Again,” and “Midnight Rendezvous.”

As lead guitarist, Stocker provided the six-string muscle that powered those hits up the charts.

Born March 27, 1953, in London, Stocker took up guitar at age nine. A passionate devotee of Free guitarist Paul Kossoff, he honed his chops in short-lived bands Joy and Pegasus. His break came in 1975, when he joined the fledgling The Babys, which included lead vocalist/bassist John Waite, keyboardist/guitarist Michael Corby, and drummer Tony Brock. Signed to Chrysalis on the basis of a four-song video, the band released five albums – The Babys, Broken Heart, Head First, Union Jacks, and On the Edge – and toured with the likes of Alice Cooper, Cheap Trick, Journey, AC/DC, and Rush.

The Babys disbanded in December, 1980, and Stocker went to tour and record with Rod Stewart, Air Supply, and Humble Pie. In 2013, The Babys reunited with Stocker and Brock alongside new recruits lead singer/bassist John Bisaha and guitarist J.P. Cervoni. Last July, the band performed its first gig in almost 33 years.

At age 60, Stocker’s playing is remarkably rust-free – his trademark smoky slow-hand vibrato and chunky rhythm guitar colors proudly intact.

What was your first guitar?
On top of a wardrobe in my parents’ bedroom was an old flamenco guitar that sat there for years. I used to ask my dad, “What are you gonna do with that? Can I mess around with it?” Finally, he said “Alright.” So, I bought a beginner’s book and practiced all the time. When I started, I couldn’t get the fingering right, so I put it into an open tuning where I could play the chords with one finger. I quickly realized I wasn’t going to go anywhere playing that way, so I tuned it and learned to play properly.

Who were your earliest influences?
A guy named Lonnie Donegan, who performed skiffle music. Also, Bert Weedon, who played a big semi-acoustic on TV. Another big early influence was Hank Marvin of The Shadows. I liked the way he’d play these great melodies on the guitar.

When did you get your first electric guitar?
Not until I was 16. I left school at 15 and got a job working in a factory. I used to cycle to work past this pawn shop and I’d look at this red guitar in the window and say, “One day I’m gonna have that!” And eventually, I did. It was a no-name electric – very cheap, looked like a Strat. My dad had an amplifier he rigged as a baby monitor for my brother when he was born. That was my first setup!

Paul Kossoff was a big influence on you as a player…
I used to go see Free all the time. I was inspired by the sparseness in Koss’ playing and his soulful, bluesy lines. He’d work off of Paul Rodgers’ vocals and know when to sit out, just leave space for everybody. I applied that approach later with The Babys. I realized that sometimes less is more.

You can hear the impact of Kossoff’s vibrato on your work.
It was just so unique, bending in and out of notes; a lot of guys were relying on the vibrato arm to get that sound, but he had it down. He was playing guitar like a violinist would do vibrato on a violin. Koss had this lovely richness to the vibrato, and everything Koss played was tasty and soulful; and that straightforward sound of a Les Paul through a Marshall was very influential on me, as well.

Though I listened to other players like Peter Green and Leslie West, I always came back to Kossoff. Rhythm wise, I also liked Keith Richards, Chuck Berry, and Eric Clapton, especially his work in Cream. I also really liked Steve Marriott’s solid rhythm playing and great riffs in Humble Pie.

How would you define your approach to playing guitar in The Babys?
I go for a less-is-more approach. The Babys were very blues-based. We liked the same kind of bands. Sometimes, I look at other guitarists and go, “Wow, I couldn’t do that in a million years,” but I get more enjoyment in the way I play than being able to go up and down the fretboard all night.

How did a Gibson Les Paul become your go-to guitar?
After I got my first Les Paul, I was hooked. I fell in love with the unique sound, the way it feels and the way it plays; I love the tone and the sustain. It’s great for blues and lead playing and it’s great for big, fat chords. It’s the kind of guitar you can plug into any amp and get that tone. I’ve never found anything that surpasses a Les Paul, and that’s why I’ve stuck with them all this time.

What was your main guitar in the Babys?
A ’68 Les Paul sunburst custom. I bought it new and made payments every week. I used that guitar on all five Babys albums and it was my main guitar as far as live work, too.

Other Les Pauls were part of your arsenal…
That’s right. I had a Les Paul Anniversary model with a flame-maple top and double binding on the body, neck, and headstock, and gold tuners with chrome-plated keystone buttons; the silver represented 25 years of the Les Paul and the gold represented 50 years of Gibson; even the tuners were half and half. I got that from the Gibson factory in 1978. I also had a black Les Paul Deluxe from the mid ’70s with cream P-90s, and I had a Les Paul Standard from the early ’70s. For a short time in ’78, I was also playing a Cherry Red Les Paul Junior I got from a roadie friend. I don’t think I played it live; I used it in the video for “And If You Can See Me Fly.” As far as live shows I’ve played nothing but Gibsons throughout my career.

Do you still have those guitars?
No, sadly they’re all gone. They’re the tools of my trade. But because I’ve been out of the circle for a while, sometimes you’re forced to sell something you really don’t want to part with. I’ve had some beautiful instruments through the years. My guitars were an investment and if I could have them all back, it would make for a wonderful collection.

Now that you’re in the market for new guitars, what has caught your eye?
Gibson is putting out a limited edition replica of Paul Kossoff’s main guitar which he used in Free with the finish missing and scratches and dents. They’re also putting out a new model based on Koss’ ’58 Les Paul. That looks like a wonderful guitar and I’ve got my eye on that one. It would come full circle if I was able to play something like that.

The Babys’ musical template mixed muscular rock like “Head First” with orchestral, soul-tinged pop a la “Isn’t It Time.” What were the challenges you faced working within those two styles?
I welcomed the challenge. It made recording even more interesting and enjoyable. When the guitar isn’t the main feature in songs like “Isn’t It Time,” you’ve got to invent a part that will fit in but maintain the style you wove into a heavier track.

Do you employ a different approach, playing guitar in the studio versus a live show?
Yeah, you start with your basic sound, but you have the freedom to experiment a little more with other tones to embellish the track you’re working on. Recording is like painting by numbers; you layer a track like putting a jigsaw together. I liked the way Jimmy Page would orchestrate guitars and incorporate sounds, and that had an influence on me.

On Head First and Union Jacks, especially, your guitar sound was huge. How was that accomplished?
I refused to use an electric doubler. I’d go back in and play off the first guitar and strengthen the part that way; maybe I’d change the tone. I’d want to make sure the guitars were rubbing a little bit and not be completely in sync, which gives it a much bigger and fatter sound.

Which Babys song do you think best showcases you as a player?
“Dying Man,” from our first album. There was all kinds of room in that song for me to stretch out, and I remember John (Waite) and I going into the studio together. As he was laying down a vocal, I was next to him doing a guitar track, and we were just playing off of each other. Another one I like is “Laura” from the first album. Our producers, Bob Ezrin and Brian Christian, said, “Why don’t you go off and work out a solo as opposed to playing something off the top of your head? We need something different on this song.” I went off with the track and sculpted a solo, and it worked really well.

Characterize your approach to crafting guitar solos in The Babys.
The producer would say, “We’ve got six empty tracks. Lay down six solos, come back and listen, and we can take what’s best.” My solos were all kind of short and sweet and to the point – they had to say something, but it didn’t have to be very long. It just had to build and be melodic. The solo in “Love Don’t Prove I’m Right” is short and sweet. I’ve always liked the solo in “Run to Mexico” and “True Love, True Confessions”; which weren’t overplayed. They were just enough, and that’s the way I like it.

What were you using for amps, strings, picks, and pedals?
For me, it’s Marshall amps all the way. I used a Marshall 100-watt Super Bass head on all the albums, then later bought a Marshall Super Lead, and finally a Marshall with Master Volume. As for strings, I had a deal with Dean Markley. I had custom gauges – .010, .011, .014, .026, .036 and .042. Picks? I used medium plastic Herco picks.

The pedals I used live were my trusty Roland CE-1 chorus – I liked the warmth of that pedal, plus I could run it in stereo. Instead of plugging straight into the amp, it would round off my sound and give it a nice tone with that slow chorus, close to a Leslie effect. It had a lot more high-end and less growl.

Now, I use a Boss Chorus along with a Boss Delay.

How did the Babys reunion come together?
Tony (Brock) approached me last year about reuniting. We’d gone back and forth through the years and this time it finally felt right. John Waite decided he didn’t want to do it and wanted to focus on his solo career, and we respected that. We found John Bisaha, who plays bass and is a great lead singer, and we also have a second guitar player, J.P. Cervoni.

Back in the Babys first go-round, Michael Corby and, later, Jonathan Cain, played keyboards and guitar. So, if Michael or Jonathan was playing keyboards, there wouldn’t be second guitar, so that limited me to playing more rhythm during shows. But, a second guitar player frees me to play some of the licks on the original records. It’s exciting to have a second guitar in the band, along with keyboards.

The band recently played its first gig in nearly 33 years. What was that like for you?
It was very emotional, exciting – and stressful (laughs)! As soon as we walked on, I felt I’d gone back in time and I could feel the tension fall away as we started the set. It felt like, “This is where I belong, playing the old songs again.” It was something I never really thought was going to come around.

What’s the most useful piece of advice you could offer budding guitar players?
All the people who influenced me were players you could pick out of the crowd by their style and sound – as soon as you heard them playing, you knew it was Eric Clapton or Jeff Beck or Jimmy Page. That’s what I always tried to achieve. I developed my own style and tone. I’d suggest they don’t get caught up in multi-effects and hammer-ons, because you don’t want to sound like two dozen other players. Concentrate on being unique, as opposed to one of the crowd.

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This article originally appeared in VG Febuary 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Los Lonely Boys’ new album, Revelation, draws from several influences while retaining the band’s Texas/Mexican identity. Collaborating with a group of top-tier tunesmiths, Revelation weaves pop, reggae, soul, and conjunto influences. It follows guitarist Henry Garza’s recovery from a violent fall from the concert stage. After a stretch in the hospital, he’s excited about getting busy on the guitar.

Vintage Guitar:You’ve figured out how to mix your culture with accessible, guitar-driven pop. Was that the plan?

Henry Garza:Every one of the songs sounds different, and is in its own world. That’s the way we wanted to record; we didn’t want to push a song into sounding like something it wasn’t. We let the song lead us and didn’t detour; if it needed Texican country, rock, pop, soul, R&B, heavy – we didn’t fight it.

Was there discussion about using outside songwriters?

Yes. We’ve been doing are own production for a while, and our management gave us a list of people who wanted to write with us and were pretty successful. The plan was to write with people, get a producer, and bring more energy and excitement. Still, though, me and my brothers are real tight – nobody gets between us – and our music is an extension of that.

Have producers tried to change your sound?

Yeah, but we’ve been doing this so long we never felt like we needed anyone’s help. We’re not trying to write hits, but business is business and you have to make good decisions. We’re a real-life family that plays music for a living. That’s how we paid the bills – with our Pops and brothers and sisters, sticking together. It’s never been about making records or being famous. It’s been about playing to survive.

How do you balance that with writing songs for the radio?

That’s what every artist is looking for – having something that fits into where the world seems to be going. When you hear a song like “Blame It On Love,” you can hear that Texican sound and know it’s Los Lonely Boys – that’s us coming right through. You can also hear other influences, and that’s being who we are. That’s getting something on the radio with blues, rock, or country, and creating it for the now.

Talk about your accident.

[I fell into an] orchestra pit that was 12 feet deep. We had finished the show and I ran out to shake some hands [but] didn’t know there was a hole. The momentum shot me forward and I torpedoed onto my face and was told that because I didn’t know I was falling, I didn’t tense up or brace myself, which probably saved my life. I had a fractured neck, herniated discs, and bulging discs. I’m alive and doing a lot better. I’m a spiritual dude; I put it in God’s hands.

What are you playing now?

Tejana is my number one guitar. She’s a Mexican Strat I put together with my tech, Ish Flores, and has Texas Special pickups, which I love. We do it like we do our cars – make them into lowriders and put our own flash on them (laughs)!

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This article originally appeared in VG Acoustic no.001 e-newsletter. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Renowned folk singer/songwriter, musicologist, organizer, and political activist Pete Seeger died January 27 at a hospital in New York City. He was 94 and passed from natural causes.

Seeger was born in 1919 to Charles Seeger, Jr. and his wife, Constance. Charles Seeger is credited with helping found the academic discipline of ethnomusicology in his work for the University of California. Constance was a concert violinist who also taught at the Julliard School. After his parents divorced in the mid 1920s, Charles married Ruth Crawford, a music student and composer who later contributed to Carl Sandburg’s influential folk-music anthology, The American Songbag.

Pete Seeger began playing the ukulele as a schoolboy, and at 17 discovered the five-string banjo when the family, while researching rural American folk music, attended  the Mountain Dance and Folk Festival in North Carolina. Enthralled, Pete asked his father to arrange for him to learn basic strokes on a five-string banjo from festival organizer Bascom Lamaar Lunsford. He then spent the next several years focused on learning the instrument.

After finishing prep school, Seeger attended Harvard, studying to be journalist. There, he started a political newspaper and joined the Young Communist League. He left college after two years and moved to New York City, where he helped Alan Lomax catalog and transcribe music at the Archive of American Folk Song at the Library of Congress.

Seeger’s life was always immersed in folk music and the socioeconomic realities of those who created it. As a result, he became a political figurehead who performed songs for the grass-roots audiences at labor rallies, anti-war rallies, civil rights marches, colleges, and folk festivals. He typically played banjo or guitar during these performances, and was known for adapting spirituals and other traditional songs and encouraging the audiences to sing along with him.

In 1942, he was drafted to the U.S. Army and trained as an airplane mechanic, but then assigned to a unit of performers in the Pacific Theater. After the war, he resumed performing and in ’49 helped form The Weavers, a folk group that also included Lee Hays, Ronnie Gilbert, and Fred Hellerman. By the early ’50s, the band had sold some four million singles and albums, but Seeger’s membership in the Communist Party (which he had disavowed prior to forming the band) came back to haunt him when a pamphlet was published listing performers with known Communist ties. It essentially blacklisted the group, which then broke up. Seeger was subsequently called to testify before the U.S. House of Representatives and, after refusing to answer questions about his political beliefs, was charged with contempt, indicted, and sentenced to a year in prison. The indictment, however, was overturned.

His discography ultimately included more than 100 albums and several hit songs, mostly via his time with The Weavers.  The ’60s saw a new generation of performers find inspiration in Seeger’s life and work. Among them were Bob Dylan, Don McLean, and others involved in the “folk boom,” including the Byrds, who in ’65 scored a major hit with “Turn, Turn, Turn,” which was written by Seeger.

Seeger remained very active, professionally and politically, throughout his career. A co-founder of the Newport Folk Festival, he was integral to the folk-music revival of the ’60s. By the mid ’60s, he began to call attention to environmental issues, which he championed through the remainder of his life. In 1996, he was inducted to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. In ’97, he won a Grammy Award for best traditional folk album. He won the award again in 2009, and then in 2011 won in the children’s music category. Vega and Martin have both issued instruments that carry his name; Vega the Pete Seeger Longneck banjo, Martin the JSO and J12SO! Sing Out Pete Seeger model guitars.

“Seeger was one of the most influential and iconic performers in the history of American traditional and folk music,” said VG contributor George Gruhn. “He combined music with political and social activism influencing millions of people. He helped to promote the careers of numerous musicians including Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly. During the late 1950s through the mid ’60s, Pete was one of the major catalysts for the increased popularity of five-string banjos and 12-string guitars in folk and popular music. His legacy is vastly greater than the sum of his recorded music.”

Seeger is survived by a son, two daughters, a half-sister, and six grandchildren.

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This article originally appeared in VG May 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Chris Poland’s signature legato was born from tragedy. As a teen, his left hand accidentally punched through a plate-glass window and cut tendons in his fingers. He lost the ability to bend his index finger, and lost feeling in his pinkie. As a result, he learned unique fretting techniques that set the bar for inventive metal soloing on the first two Megadeth albums, and an impressive collection of solo and band projects.

Today, he leaps from jazz with Polecat to metal with Queensryche and Lamb of God to fusion with Ohm.

Fans of your playing in Megadeth think of you as a metal guy, but you’re actually from the Mahavishnu Orchestra school.
I ripped off all that stuff. On “Sister Cheryl,” the ascending chord part is basically half the section from “Electric Dreams.” I learned all the chords from “Birds Of Fire” and a lot of the chords from “Inner Mounting Flame.” McLaughlin does a lot of triads with his thumbs doing bass roots here and there. I was so into the band that I incorporated those chords into whatever I do.

How did you develop that fluid legato?
The outro solo on Led Zeppelin’s “Good Times Bad Times” has ascending and descending lines that got me started. Once I began listening to jazz and fusion, I started listening to a lot of Wayne Shorter and Michael Brecker. I don’t have their harmonic knowledge, but when you listen to something long enough, you emulate it a bit. I just like the way it sounds. I’m a huge Holdsworth fan.

How did Ohm come together?
I tried some vocal projects with my brother and different guys and it was always so contrived, except for Damn The Machine, which was heartfelt. We tried best we could, but it just didn’t fly. One day, I called Pag [bassist Robertino Pagliari] because we played in a band called The New Yorkers and were into the fusion thing that was happening with Billy Cobham, Tony Williams, Return To Forever, and those bands. Pag was into Brand X.

We were doing well around town, then The Knack came out and L.A. decided that they didn’t like our music anymore. So we quit. I went through all these bands trying to get record deals. I called Pag and I said, “Let’s just play music we like and work jobs.” Otherwise, you’re just standing around wondering why you’re not playing. It’s the same way I felt in Megadeth. For a while it was fun, but after a while you’re like, “I can’t write anything with the band because it all has to be in this pigeonholed thing.” Now we do what we do. We’re never going to make any money, but I don’t think anybody is.

You’ve played on records by Lamb of God, Geoff Tate’s last Queensryche record, and jazz with Polecat. Which is the most challenging?
I played on Michael Angelo’s record and it was the fastest thing I’ve ever played! (Laughing) It was the fastest rhythm section I have ever heard in my life, and I know it was played by human beings! It just freaked me out!

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This article originally appeared in VG Febuary 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Leslie West is renowned for his iconic tone and revered as a forefather of classic rock. A true survivor, he’s adjusting after a life-saving leg amputation, but forging ahead and inspired to continue making music. West filled us in with a rundown of the tracks on his aptly titled latest release, Still Climbing.

“I started recording a year ago,” he said. “I wanted this album to be a progression of Unusual Suspects, and I wanted to take my time putting everything together. I had some good ideas for riffs and didn’t want to be redundant in guitar solos. My wife, Jenni, wrote some great lyrics and my friend, Jon Tiven, helped with some others. My co-producer and engineer, Mike Goldberg, played drums, and Rev Jones played bass.

“I started with ‘When A Man Loves A Woman,’ the track with Jonny Lang. We sat in the control room, and played and sang together. I love the way Jonny sings and plays. He sings from his chest with a lot of feeling. He sounds like he could be a 50-year-old bluesman. Then I did ‘Dyin’ Since the Day I Was Born,’ which Mark Tremonti played on. He’s a fast player, but very melodic. ‘Tales Of Woe’ is just me with an acoustic guitar and a slide. That’s one of my favorites. It’s not a pity party, but I’ve had some ‘tales of woe’ in the last year; my friend David Biglin played the acoustic intro that sounds like a Spanish guitar. David also played acoustic, keyboard, and B3 on ‘When A Man Loves A Woman’ and ‘Feeling Good.’ He plays great acoustic and does things that I’m not so great at. I’d rather have him play those parts so I can play lead or slide over them. Next was ‘Feeling Good’ with my friend, Dee Snider. People don’t realize he’s not just a screamer. We trade lines in a couple of places and when we sang together, sometimes you can’t tell who’s who.

“I’d heard ‘Fade Into You’ on the [television] show ‘Nashville.’ A guy and girl did it acoustic, and I thought it was great. I started fooling around and changed it up by starting off acoustic, then really ripping into it heavy when the chorus comes up. I was surprised by how good it came out. ‘Hatfield Or McCoy’ also came from Jenni and I watching TV. She started writing lyrics, then I started playing slide and it came together quickly. That one was a lot of fun. The female vocals were Elaine Caswell. She did a great job.

“Johnny Winter played on ‘Busted, Disgusted Or Dead.’ He wrote a couple of songs with me before, and I’d done a track on his album, so I thought it would be great to have Mike go to the studio in Connecticut where Johnny works, and record him. He plays the middle solo and we made it sound like we’re playing together.

“‘Don’t Ever Let Me Go’ has a guest spot by Dylan Rose, who plays with James Durbin from ‘American Idol.’ My manager said he sounds kind of like me, so I let him play the ride-out. He has melody, but to me, he sounds like a Mark Tremonti or Zakk Wylde.

“I re-recorded ‘Long Red’ because of all the people who sampled it! It’s one of the most sampled hip-hop songs of all time. That blew my mind! Lana Del Rey, Nas, Depeche Mode, Jay Z., Kanye West… This is the way I do it now. It’s a lot heavier. Who knew when I wrote it in 1969 that it was hip-hop? My brother, Larry, played bass on it.

“My favorite track on the album is ‘Not Over You At All.’ Oh, boy, I love the riff on that song!

“For the gear, I changed amps on this album. I started using a Blackstar Series One 100 head with the channel-switching footpedal for clean, fat clean, slightly dirty, and then full-out gain. Mike Goldberg didn’t EQ my guitar, so what you hear is the sound from the amp. For effects, I used a TC Electronic digital delay and an octave pedal.

“I played four Dean guitars, which all have my MOT Mountain of Tone pickup. It sounds like a P-90, but it’s a humbucker. The new Mudflap Mama model has a stainless-steel mudflap girl inlaid on the neck, and it has the biggest sound. The Mississippi Queen sounds different altogether and its graphics are amazing. I used a Dean V for slide with a Joe Perry Boneyard porcelain slide – porcelain works really well. You don’t hear the squeaking or clanking of metal. The acoustic is a Larrivee jumbo. It has a great sound for recording. I’m really happy with the way everything came out – from the songs to the sounds!”

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This article originally appeared in VG May 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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