Gold-foil pickups are exotic beasts – just like many of the 1960s Japanese-made Teisco guitars that sport up to four of them crammed between neck and bridge. These pickups may look like the grille of a ’59 Eldorado, but Teisco aficionados will tell anyone that original gold foils are not nearly as reliable as an old Cadillac, reflecting an era when “Made in Japan” were code words for inconsistency. Jason Lollar has rectified this problem with a reproduction Teisco-style gold-foil pickup that sports all of the Godzilla flash of the Asian originals infused with the magic and skill of one of the most renowned boutique pickup makers in America. And the tone? Vintage Ry Cooder or David Lindley, with a healthy dose of Hound Dog Taylor.
Gold-foil pickups are so named for the piece of foil (typically stamped in a grid pattern) installed between the coil bobbin and metal cover. But not all vintage gold foils were made equal. The two most well-known variants, the Teisco-style units used by Ry Cooder (in his modified Stratocaster, aptly named “Coodercaster”) and the DeArmond “double moustache” foils found on some Harmony guitars of the ’60s, have noticeably different tones. The Teisco-style pickups (which Lollar modeled) tend to be brighter and more sought-after than the DeArmonds, though one is in danger of entering cork-sniffing territory with such comparisons. These thin pickups have a lot going on inside with no room for error – not something your average weekend winder can take on. Jason Lollar has gone through great pains to chase the dragon into his foils.
Lollar’s gold foils are available as single pickups and as matched sets of neck-bridge and three-position. An H-S-H-routed Stratocaster was “Cooderized” with a neck-bridge pair that was then run through a variety of amps. The first word that came to mind was “glassy,” as in Waterford crystal – transparent but with attitude. Played through a blackface Deluxe Reverb and an AC30, the upper mids and highs rang with clarity, colored by the warmth of complex harmonic overtones. It simply cried for a bottleneck slide. Especially notable was the neck-position pickup, which delivered amazing Cooder-ish tones. Both conjured a pleasantly surprising amount of bite and grit through a Tweed Deluxe. Gold foils are certainly not the first choice for death metal (the market has many lower-priced options), but it would be a mistake to conclude that they are one-trick ponies, incapable of delivering tasty, crunchy riffs or sweep-picked staccato blitz.
The bridge pickup carried more treble, without any hint of the ice-pick characteristic of some single-coils (yes, these are single-coils), but just a bit more in the way of output would have been nice (the bridge came in at 7.24k-ohm, the neck at 6.78k). The pickups played very well together and were nicely balanced at full volume. And unlike many other single-coils and humbuckers, the Lollar gold foils did not devolve into mud when the tone pots were dialed down. Even with most of the treble rolled off, both the neck and bridge pickups continued to deliver ear-worthy sounds.
The coil of a Lollar gold foil is wound around a rubberized ferrite bar magnet with 44-gauge wire and has two holes for riveting to the metal base. The base plate is flat with no protruding pole pieces or magnets. The result is an amazingly low profile (0.375″ tall overall) that will fit a lot instruments where nothing else will work. The test gold foils were mounted with the ears of the mount beneath a recut Strat pickguard, but it became apparent that a humbucker-sized route wasn’t necessary. Lollar Gold Foil pickups should fit well without additional routing in any guitar where the pickups are mounted in the pickguard. They are a great retrofit option for players chasing a new tone, and builders should take note that they would be really interesting on retro-style guitar designs. In addition to offering the option of nickel, chrome, and gold covers in the standard mount, Lollar also has a flush-mount option that should work well on archtop jazz boxes.
This article originally appeared in VG January 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
In the 1970s, great guitar-pickup winders began wrapping extra wire on humbuckers, touting the resultant higher output and greater low-end response. Though this approach to pickup construction makes it easier to “overdrive” certain amps, most neck pickups that were given this overwinding sounded muddy, and most such bridge pickups were lacking jangle or twang. In response, Reilander pickups developed its own lines of ’buckers with more modest, vintage-accurate specs.
One of these lines, the Muckbucker, ships in a set with resistance measurements in the upper 6k-ohm for the bridge and mid 6k for the neck. The coils use 42-AWG polycoated wire, Alnico II magnets, and short legs that make them compatible with both Gibson- and Fender-style guitars. They can be ordered with or without covers, and with various wiring options. Wiring the Muckbuckers in a Les Paul was simple thanks to their two-conductor leads. The included mounting springs and screws were also helpful – Reilander uses larger screws with its short-leg models.
Running through a Fender Deluxe Reverb and a Vox AC15, the neck pickup was clear, articulate, and fat, but not tubby. This is difficult to accomplish, as a pickup with too many winds tends to sound either anemic tone, devoid of mids or any sense of strength, or too hot, pushing to breakup without requiring the player to roll back the Tone control.
The Muckbucker bridge pickup was also a treat. Although firmly in the tonal range of a humbucker, it had clarity and jangle, along with a good dollop of midrange that made it very versatile. Because of their clarity and lower output, either pickup would be an excellent bridge ’bucker in a Strat or neck pickup in a Tele. And owing to their sensible output, both worked well with a variety of effects – even a vintage Dyna Comp didn’t need the compression turned to near zero.
While many winders name their pickups after song titles or the nicknames of famous guitarists, Reilander simply winds great-sounding pickups suitable for a variety of styles. And, as the Muckbucker name implies, they will dispatch the tubby low-end of a Gibson-style instrument.
This article originally appeared in VG January 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
With their first offering, Benjamin Harrison and Chrystal Gilles of SynapticGroove set out to fill the gap between heavy effects users and straight-into-the-amp players. Apparently, they’re on to something. They can already count Peter Stroud (Sheryl Crow), Richard Fortus (Guns N’ Roses), and Dan Boul (65amps) among fans of their Snapperhead Overdrive/Distortion.
Lightweight, powdercoated, and relic’d, the true-bypass analog Snapperhead showcases the SynapticGroove design philosophy, borrowed from Charles Mingus: “Making the simple complicated is commonplace; making the complicated simple, awesomely simple, that’s creativity.” The pedal takes up very little space, and its simple layout comprises Level and Drive knobs, a 9-volt input, and In/Out jacks. A rapid-fire tricolor LED, while a nice cosmetic touch, alerts the user of a low battery by ceasing to fluctuate. While its lack of a tone control exposes an amp’s bad qualities as well its good, according to the manufacturers, the pedal is a tool for guitarists seeking to drive their amplifier, not color it. “With the right guitar and amp, an effects pedal is merely an intermediary,” Harrison explains.
Tested with an assortment of Strat- and Les Paul-style guitars, and a variety of combo amps and high-gain signature heads, the Snapperhead revealed that it definitely comes from the hairy side of the street – even with the Drive knob lowered, it has a fuzz-like quality. At higher drive levels, the dirt increases with a raw but focused grittiness.
Even with the Snapperhead’s grainy parameters, it exhibited plenty of variation. Dialing the Drive knob clockwise, light breakup gave way first to gravelly crunch and eventually to full-on furbearing saturation. At higher settings, it offered just enough compression to hold it all together, and punching out of a dense band mix was no problem. Notes popped with sensitivity to the guitar’s volume control and to picking dynamics. And despite the pedal’s lack of tonal range, chords and single notes had great definition and organic flavor.
The Snapperhead Overdrive/Distortion mirrors the amp and adds raspy overtones more suited to dirty rock than liquid metal or fusion. It also lends a slight treble boost that falls somewhere between ’70s fuzzy Brit rock and uncivilized but slightly fine-tuned American punk and garage. Those looking for a smooth, warm overdrive with a slight bump in midrange for fluid single-note soloing should avoid the Snapperhead. However, for those looking to replicate the classic sound of a woolly amp pushed to the brink, but at manageable volume with no sweeteners, the Snapperhead might be the perfect “intermediary” to which Harrison alludes.
This article originally appeared in VG January 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Some guitarists are happy with conventional guitars and basses. Others, however, feel the urge to explore other sonic ranges. In recent years, several new configurations have made their way to the market; five- and six-string basses; extended-range harp and “touch” guitars; and seven- and eight-string solidbodies that transport metallers to pure shred bliss. Never one to be left behind, Taylor offers their premium Baritone-8 acoustic.
The Baritone-8 is an interesting concept intended primarily for the solo guitarist. The basic skinny on this single-cutaway instrument is that it’s a baritone-scaled acoustic with an upper-octave string paired with both the third and fourth strings as on a 12-string guitar. The logic behind it sounds like a head-scratcher until one actually picks up the Baritone-8 and gives it a few strums. That’s when the ah-ha! moment strikes and the light bulb goes on. But even before that first strum, the details and construction of the Baritone-8 are bound to draw the player’s attention.
The Baritone-8, which falls under Taylor’s Grand Symphony shape and dimensions, has Indian rosewood back and sides with a Sitka spruce top that supports baritone bracing beneath to deal with the extra tension and bigger strings. Being a bari, the guitar has a scale length of 27″ and 19 frets, while the rosewood fingerboard caps a mahogany neck with a nut width of 1.75″. In a series of handsome appointments, the headstock has an overlay of Indian rosewood and sports an inlaid mother-of-pearl Taylor logo, a truss-rod cover, and eight gold Taylor tuners. In addition, there are diamond fretboard inlays, a fancy abalone rosette, and ebony bridge pins with abalone dots. Rosewood lovers will also dig the deeply figured grain on the back and sides.
For electronics, the Baritone-8 offers Taylor’s Expression system, which has a 1/4″ input jack and 9-volt battery compartment at the end pin, and three cleanly designed knobs on the upper bout for Volume, Bass, and Treble. The magnetic pickup delivers a warm, pleasing acoustic sound. Why more acoustic guitarists don’t use magnetic pickups is a mystery – they’re arguably superior to piezo technology and usually sound nice and warm, but that’s an argument for another day.
Upon picking up the Baritone-8, the most immediately noticeable feature is the aforementioned longer-scaled neck. After it’s played for a while, however, it proves (perhaps somewhat surprisingly) to be incredibly comfortable. This guitar is also set up beautifully and quite fast. It’s almost a wonder that a 27″ neck can play with such low action and speed. Yet it does – this is a truly great acoustic neck.
Dig a little deeper into the Baritone-8, and more of its genius emerges. The ringing pairs of strings add a 12-string effect, but they don’t encumber the shreddability of the first and second strings or the bass dimension of the fifth and sixth (because the guitar is normally tuned B to B, the string pitches can be adjusted in the player’s head. However, it can still be played exactly like a guitar in standard tuning, and it leaves open the options for any open tunings, too).
The Baritone-8 was tested at an acoustic gig and it killed with some flatpicked flamenco-style solos. The bass notes spun up the drama, while the paired strings created the magical chime. The finale included shredding all over the neck, inducing pure flamenco glory, much to the audience’s delight. Of course, many players attracted to the Baritone-8 will be ethereal fingerpickers and tappers of the Michael Hedges or Andy McKee school; it’s easy to see how the guitar’s extended baritone range will delight them.
In all, the Taylor Baritone-8 may seem like a bit of an oddball guitar, but such judgments should definitely be reserved until the would-be judge has tried one out. The incredibly constructed Baritone-8 is not inexpensive, but once its advantages become apparent, it might be difficult indeed to resist this guitar’s “extended” charms.
This article originally appeared in VG January 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Roger Giffin is a guitarmaker to the stars, having built for Eric Clapton, Pete Townshend and John Entwistle, Mark Knopfler, Andy Summers, David Gilmour, and many others. He also ran the Gibson Custom Shop in California for many years before striking out on his own. Now producing his own models under the name Giffin Guitars. Giffin’s latest is the Vikta, a classy axe with more than a few familiar appointments.
A single-cutaway guitar with a pleasing look, the Vikta is a straightforward rock-and-roll machine. Our test guitar had a maple neck, solid alder body, and 22-fret rosewood fingerboard with a 24.625″ scale and 12″ radius. Its 7.4-pound body had a flat top and no binding, and DiMarzio P-90 pickups. Other details included abalone “vertical line” inlays along the top of the fingerboard, nickel Sperzel tuners, a Graphtech Tusq nut, five-ply pickguard, two knobs for Volume and a master Tone, and a TonePros AVT wraparound bridge.
In the hand, the Vikta has a nice, beefy neck that brings to mind Gibson necks of the ’50s. Plugged into a small combo, it rocks as you’d hope, P-90s delivering feisty attitude, singing tones, ample sustain, and snarl for everything from Chuck Berry to the Faces to the Black Crowes. The guitar had an immaculate setup and great resonance, though the control configuration – with the knob closest to the pickups wired as neck Volume, bridge Volume below it – requires a bit of reorientation, as does the proximity of the three-way pickup toggle, which seems a little cramped at first.
The bottom line on the Vikta, though, is that this is a kick-ass rock slab that’ll sound great through small combo amps or raging half-stacks. If you dig vintage Gibson Les Paul Specials and Juniors, consider this plank. It takes the best qualities of those classics and ports them into a modern design that exudes craftsmanship and design ideas.
This article originally appeared in VG December 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Isaak working on his new album at Sun Studios, surrounded by images – and the vibe – of some of his most vital musical heroes.
Most pop-music fans became aware of Chris Isaak through his 1991 hit “Wicked Game” and its uber-high-profile video, directed by famed photographer Herb Ritts and featuring the singer/guitarist gettin’ all From Here to Eternity with supermodel Helena Christensen. Musically, the moody track – with Calvin Wilsey’s memorable reverb-infused guitar lick – not only put Isaak on the pop-music map, but kept him there perpetually via “appearances” in film and on TV programs and commercials. With its basic, brushed-snare-drum beat, laid-back melody, clean single-note/arpeggiated-chord guitar solo (rendered via Fender Stratocaster and a blackface amp with reverb), and classic torch vocals, the song had a deep throwback feel. But for Isaak, it was simply true to form, and reflected the deep influence of early rock-and-roll performers, many of whom emerged from Sam Phillips’ Sun Studios in the 1950s. Isaak’s new album, Beyond the Sun, moves from being simply influenced by his predecessors to a straight-up tribute, spurred by a comment Phillips made in an interview more than a decade ago. Asked by Oxford American if any contemporary recording artists grabbed his attention, Phillips replied, “I don’t keep up with the business like I used to. But I love to listen to Chris Isaak. He’s very talented, and his music is so damned honest. It’s incredible.” Isaak was blown away by such praise from a man he idolized, and he calls Beyond the Sun – which was recorded at Sun – a “labor of love.” The affection traces to his childhood, when he and his brother became obsessed with music being made by Phillips and the artists he mentored. Isaak took the phone call from VG as he ran through a few chords on a guitar. The first question was obvious…
What are you strumming on?
Ummm, it’s a “Los Lauriars” or something – a half-size guitar a little bigger than a baritone ukulele… nylon-string. I got it years ago when I traveled all the time, and I’d put it in the overhead or in the back of the van or whatever. I actually have a nicer one now – a half-pint version of a Gibson J-200 made in the ’60s. The J-200 I play onstage has my name across the top in mother of toilet seat (pearloid), and I wanted the little guitar to have the same thing – they look like father and son! Lefty Frissell did something like that, but on a pink pickguard, which was really cool. I want to do that sometime. And I’ve seen a version of Johnny Cash inlaid on the neck, but I’d never fool with the neck. When they put me in a box or something, then somebody can pry my letters off and keep playing (laughs)!
Beyond The Sun is an ode to some of the music you heard as a child, much of which was recorded at Sun Records in Memphis. What prompted you?
The songs I picked were all by artists who got their start at Sun, recording for Sam Phillips, the famed producer who worked with Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis… He also recorded guys like B.B. King and Howlin’ Wolf. That’s a great bunch to pick from, and on the album I do some songs they recorded at Sun and some stuff they did later, like Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Great Balls of Fire” and later Elvis stuff like “It’s Now or Never.” Some people don’t know it, but Sun is really a simple studio. Like you walk in and the first 10 feet is a room to keep the sound off the street; that’s the office. Then there’s another door, and then there’s like a 25-by-20 room with a high ceiling – that’s the studio. And in the back is a little room just big enough to swing a cat – that’s the control room. It’s just awesome.
What do you recall about your earliest exposure to music?
I remember as a kid, my older brother putting records on our player – one of those that looked like a little suitcase, with two little speakers about the size of a Kleenex box. It was funky-sounding, but we thought we were very hi-fi, because it played in stereo! My brother would put on Jerry Lee Lewis rock-and-roll songs before we went to school. My parents had a great record collection – Johnny Cash, a bunch of Elvis. In fact, the first thing I did when I finished this record was take a mock-up of the artwork, put the album inside, and take it to my parents, because it was a thank-you to them. They never said to me, “Hey, get a real job.” Maybe because we came from a funky enough background – we didn’t have connections or money or anything like that, so it wasn’t like we were gonna go downhill! It wasn’t like, “Why aren’t you going to be a lawyer like your father?” It was like “Hey, good for you, you’re staying out of jail…” (laughs)!
Nowhere to go but up?
You know, I think my parents were really proud that I went to college, got a scholarship, and was boxing as a light heavyweight for Aoyama Gakuin University, in Tokyo. When I was over there, I discovered another Sun sessions album; I went, “This what I want to do. I want to sing.” I didn’t know at the time, if you had asked me, “Are you gonna become famous? Are you gonna travel the world?,” I would have looked at you like, “Uh, yeahhh.”
Isaak early in his career with his Silvertone model 1384 guitar (and 1484 amp in the background).
Were you comfortable with your singing voice?
It wasn’t a matter if I thought I was good or not. It was more like… (chuckles) it was like sex; it didn’t matter, it was just so much fun. And I’d sing all the time. Actually, my older brother was better; people would always say, “You can sing good, but your brother really can sing.” So it was competitive, you know?
What about guitars?
My first guitar was a Checkmate, and I remember it well; it was a really cheesy nylon-string, and on the headstock was a piece of metal, stamped and screwed on – it looked like the knight chess piece. I had that guitar for years, then after I got a better one, I lent it to my friend, Anthony Franks. He was a great guy, but he lost it! I went, “Lesson learned.” Never lend a guitar. You lend it, it’s gone. Anthony’s a great guy, and a straight arrow.
Has he been apologizing ever since?
Nah. We were kids. You borrow stuff and people move, things change.
What was your next guitar?
I graduated to a much better guitar – a Silvertone! I got the hollowbody one, which I still have. It came with futuristic-looking pickups, a single cutaway, not real big and fat… it’s kind of like the precursor to the Gretsch 6120. I went, “Wow! Now I’m getting professional.”
How old were you at the time?
Probably 19.
What kind of music were you playing?
Well, on guitar, it was funny because… You know, I always loved this music and really, it’s easy for me to sing that style – it comes naturally. And later, when I read about the people those Sun Records artists were listening to at the time, in some odd way they were the same ones I listened to growing up – Hank Williams, Earnest Tubb, Gene Autry – guys from three generations back. And later, when I heard Jerry Lee Lewis, I’d go, “I hear some Gene Autry in it.” Or I’d hear a song by Elvis and go, “Oh, that’s a Hank Snow song.” When I started out, I thought, “Man, if I could be as big as Hank Snow…” I still wish I could be as good as Hank Snow or Lefty Frissell. Then, when I heard Elvis from his Sun sessions, I went, “Wow! This put a little more youth into Hank’s stuff.” It had a little more kick – took it off the farm and brought it to the city a little. And then there’s the guitar playing by Scotty Moore, who I believe should get paid for every record. Without Scotty Moore, we’d all be sweeping streets (laughs)!
All of your Sun heroes had heavy-hitter guitar players. Do you have favorites amongst them?
Oh, yeah. For example, my favorite guitar players ever were represented very well on Beyond The Sun. Scotty Moore, of course, who you just can’t give enough credit to – without Scotty, you might not have Sam Phillips. What if Elvis had walked into a different studio with different people – maybe somewhere that wouldn’t have seen the talent and maybe said, “Hey, let’s put a string section behind this kid and we’ll have a Southern Dean Martin.” And they would have cut two or three albums, maybe had a regional hit. You know what I mean? But when you add Scotty Moore with all those riffs, it was obviously something new. Scotty’s a big part of it. Elvis was part of a band, it wasn’t just him. He had a great producer and a great guitar player. I don’t know what the odds are for that. I’ve been lucky, and I’ll take my life over Elvis’. I’ve lived longer, I’ve had great friends, and my band is great – I’ve been with them for 26 years and they’re really fun guys. But when a guy walks into a studio and the first guy you see says, “Here’s your producer, Sam Phillips. Here’s your guitar player, Scotty Moore. Bill Black on bass.” You just go, “Huh?!” That’s what you call lightning striking.
A whole lotta luck.
All at one time!
Luther Perkins and Johnny Cash had a similar story…
Oh, I love Luther Perkins (sings “I’m all alone, alone and blue. I’ve go no one to tell my troubles to.”) And all of a sudden he stops the instruments and goes, “Key of A, Luther.” I’m dying! And there’s another one for Sam Phillips; so many guys would have walked in with that and said, “We want the singer, but let’s use our session guys.” And we would’ve lost the coolness of his sound. I mean, his records are so cool because they’re so simple. There was another great player represented on this record, and he actually sat in and gave us some insight on some of the songs – Roland Janes. It was so much fun to hang with him; he’s hilarious – a gentleman and a really nice guy. He played on all those Jerry Lee Lewis records; think about being the guitar player with Jerry Lee Lewis – maybe the world’s best piano player. That’s a hard road, you know what I mean? Yet, he doesn’t have a bit of ego in him. He’s smart, and his choices on the guitar are like (sighs)… My god! I was talking to James Burton, and I said, “James, why don’t you teach me somethin’?” He goes, “I’ll teach ya somethin’. When in doubt, play out,” (laughs)! And it’s hilarious, but it’s true. And Roland is the guy who has enough ego control that he doesn’t start endlessly noodling. He lets the song breathe. And he plays understated. Yet you listen to him play, and there’s such passion. It’s so perfect. And nobody sounds like him. Man, he plays some stuff. I told Hershel Yatovitz, my guitar player, who’s damn good, “I listen, but I can’t figure out what he’s doing.” Hershel goes, “I can figure out what he’s doin’, but I can’t do it.” It’s his feel – so sophisticated it sounds simple. But it isn’t. Anyway, Roland was there. And when I introduced Hershel to him, I said, “Uh, Hershel… meet Roland Janes,” and his eyes went wide and he said, “Oh, my god. I’m sorry, but I’ve been hearing your name a million times – every time we play something, he goes, you gotta listen to Roland Janes.” And he was right – I’d always told him that!
You’ve worked with Hershel for what, 15 years?
A long time. I mean, since the Dead Sea was sick! He was clean-shaven when he started!
What does he bring to your music?
He is the man for the job in this band. Nobody could do what he does. If you think about what we do live; I might ask him one minute to play, “Forgot to Remember to Forget,” where he’ll be comping a part kind of like Scotty Moore, then I’ll ask him to play a part he made up, then I’ll ask him on the next song to be jammin’ on something we’re making up that night, then I’ll ask him to play something from a record we did 15 or 16 years ago. And they have a lot of different sounds. Most guitar players have one sound or thing, but Hershel can play a lot of styles, with lot of different sounds. He’s got his own style, which I like very much – it’s very pretty. He’s a pretty, melodic player. And he’s a good showman, too. On top of all that, if I tell Hershel, “I wrote this song, and I want to record it tomorrow. Can you come up with a part tonight?,” it’s done. But sometimes what blows my mind is, I’ll say, “Hey, listen to this record. What’s this guy playing? Can you learn that?” Twenty minutes later, he’ll play it for me, flawlessly. What might take me all night to learn, Hershel learns in 10 seconds. I played with Michelle Branch on this Buddy Holly special; I spent all night learning the riff for (sings) “Heartbeat, why do you….” And I wasn’t gonna play it, but I just wanted to see if I could learn it, right? It took me a long time; I’m a lousy guitar player. Well, I like to play rhythm, that’s my thing. I play leads a couple times a night because it’s so different. Anyway, it took me all night, but Hershel learned it in seconds.
Isaak with his preferred guitar – a Gibson J-200.
Then, at the show, Waddy Wachtel was the guitar player that night, and Waddy and I played together – Waddy is so good. Anyway, we started to play and I said, “No, Waddy. Play it like the record.” And he goes, “Chris, I learned 20 songs today…” I go, “Wait, I know it.” And I played it for him, and I got lucky and played it right. That never happens (laughs)! When I finished, I looked around, because everybody in the band stopped while I was playing the riff, and Waddy’s listening; I said, “Did anybody film that? Me teaching Waddy Wachtel something.” He laughed. Really, though, I couldn’t carry one of his strings. He’s amazing.
Do you have a favorite guitar amongst those you play regularly?
Yeah, Gibson J-200. My house is like the Stevie Ray Vaughan video for “Cold Shot,” where his girlfriend would take his guitar away, but he’d pull out another one. There was a guitar behind the couch, behind the door, under the chair… The first time I saw that, I laughed and said, “That’s my house!” My ex used to say, “How come you got a guitar everywhere?” And I said, “You never know when you might want to play one!” (laughs). But the J-200 is ubiquitous. I don’t think there’s a finer guitar; Gibson guitars are my favorite, by far. The acoustics… I’ve sang with Martins and they’re nice – they’re brighter – but a Gibson is warm from top to bottom, a big, full sound. To me, it’s just thrilling. I sit in my hallway or on the stairway because there’s good echo, and sing with the J-200. It’s like I’m in heaven.
How about electric guitars? Do you have any that you like better than others?
I played a little show once – I think it was for iTunes – where they said, “Bring a guitar.” I thought, “I’ll bring an electric.” So I brought a funky little Silvertone amp and a little echo box, with my blond ’56 Super 400 (laughs)! Talk about overkill! People are looking at me like, “Uh huh… That’s a nice guitar.” I go, “Yes, it is. You have no idea!” Some people think you shouldn’t play that sort of stuff outside the house. But you know, I’m never going to sell this stuff. And it only comes out boots first!
How many ’50s and ’60s guitars do you have?
My guitar collection isn’t that big, money-wise. I’m not somebody who has them all lined up goes, “This is my blond ’49, this is my…” They’re not all organized and they’re not all perfect. If you took all my guitars there’s probably not that expensive of a collection. ’Cause I’ll have guitars in there that… I’ve got a red Hagstrom from the ’60s. And it’s funky, but it’s a great sound for certain things. I’ve got an Italian guitar with a plastic body, and it’s got microphonic pickups. My bass player gave it to me; he said, “I know you like these kind of things.” It was kind of a joke, but of course I brought it to the studio and recorded with it and went, “Oh my god, it doesn’t sound like anything else you’ve heard. I like this!” Making the new album, Hershel was playing the Super 400 for a lot of the Scotty kind of stuff, and at one point we were playing an old blues tune and man, it sounded good. But it didn’t sound funky enough. But there was this little practice guitar laying in the studio that people would use to pose for pictures or write their name on. It had funky strings, it wasn’t intonated very well, and the nut was rattling and everything else. I said, “Play this track on that one.” He picked it up and he goes, “But it’s out of tune, and it rattles.” I go, “Perfect!” And of course, because his playing is so good and that guitar was so bad, together it sounds like all those blues guys. Those guys were playing million-dollar riffs on $20 guitars! Me, not being that great a player, I’ll take a great guitar like the Gibsons. Plus, when you’re at home playing a Hagstrom and it slips out of tune, it’s no big deal. You just tune it and keep going. But when you’re onstage… that’s a problem. There’s a reason I’m playing a Gibson through a Fender blackface Twin. It’s like driving a Chevy – you can get parts anywhere, and it always starts. And I always liked Gretsch guitars, but onstage, they didn’t hold up as well for me.
They keep you a little busier…
Yes. Brian Setzer gave me a Gretsch, it was just beautiful – and what a class act he is. I’ll never play it as good as he does, but he cracked me up because he’s so into it – such a guitarhead, and motorhead. He said, “Yeah, these are good ones because the top of this guitar is only this thick, they used to make them thicker, but this one’s thin.” I’m goin’, “Yeah, okay… It’s red!” (laughs) and I like it. It sure is nice, Brian!
This article originally appeared in VG January 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Line 6 M5 Stompbox modeler
Price: $279.99 (retail)
Info: line6.com
Have you ever thought, “Maaaan, I wish I had that [fill in the blank with the name of that rare vintage stompbox], but I can’t afford it. Dang!”
It’s a common malady.
Enter the Line 6 M5. Simple in concept – sort of a “secret weapon” that can conjure more than 100 classic stompbox sounds, it isn’t intended to replace your pedal collection, but rather to serve as a go-to box that delivers rare/little-used effects in a pinch.
Offering a huge menu of sounds, unlike the M5’s Line 6 big brothers, the M13 and M9, this box provides only one effect at a time. There are 20 echoes, 20 modulations, 20 fuzz and distortion units, and piles of compressors, reverbs, and filters. What there aren’t are cheesy combinations of overdrive/reverb/echo or chorus/compressor/reverb. Rather, the M5 endeavors to give the user one effect at a time without silly algorithm mixes.
What sounds will you find in this sturdy little unit? Within the delay section, there’s the expected Echoplex pre-set… But there’s also the super-rare Binson Echorec (as used by Syd Barrett and David Gilmour on early Pink Floyd recordings), and in the “mod” department, there’s a UniVibe, a Jet Flanger that sounds like a vintage A/DA, a Leslie simulation, and various Mu-Tron, MXR, and Ibanez phasers. If you’re into the dirty stuff, look for the ubiquitous Fuzz Face and Tube Screamer sounds, along with the less-common Colorsound Overdriver, Vox Tonebender, and weird-ass PAiA Roctave Divider. And there’s even a Tap-Tempo button so you can make any time-based effects groove with the rest of the song. Or, plug in an expression pedal to stomp on everything from wahs to pitch-shifting effects.
Guitarists will further appreciate the user-friendly manual, which includes photos of all the classic pedals that Line 6 modeled for the M5.
To get going, plug in (input and output jacks can be run in mono or stereo) and take a look at the bank of six knobs; in the uppermost left is one called Model Select, which allows you to pick the effects family you want – Delay, Modulation, Distortion, Filter, and Reverb. Then, twiddle the remaining five to see which parameters you can adjust on the LCD display. Find a sound that you want to save? There are 24 user spaces. Other goodies include a built-in tuner and a True-Bypass model when you don’t want to hear any artifacts from the M5 in your chain (or use DSP bypass if you do).
Using a variety of amps, we ran the M5 through its paces and were impressed overall; naturally, the better your amp, the better the M5 will sound. The unit is absurdly easy to use despite having five unlabeled knobs – when you plug it in, you’ll see how they control parameters like Speed, Mix, and Drive. All the effects sounded full and accurate – that Binson Echorec nails that ’60s Floyd sound. You may be especially blown away by the Filter and Reverb sections. In the former you’ll find otherworldly effects and synth sounds that’ll make your guitar sound like it’s from the other side of Pluto. The reverbs are cool, as well, from the traditional ’63 Spring to the amazing Octo, which, with the Mix parameter cranked up, makes a guitar sound like orchestral strings.
With more than 100 models, it’s super-versatile. And if you break down the price per effect, well… you do the math!
This article originally appeared in VG December 2011 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
For Paul Quinn, music begins and ends with the blues. The soft-spoken guitarist began playing by listening to British blues icons and helped make Saxon one of Europe’s biggest heavy-metal acts. Quinn has been there since the band’s inception in 1976, and it recently released its 20th album, Sacrifice.
“It was good to make it,” Quinn said of the disc. “It’s not an easy to make a 20th album. We didn’t particularly steal anything from the old days, but we were influenced by it. We wanted it to be as live as possible.”
It really sounds like you’re playing in a room together.
For the solos we had to overdub, but a lot of the time we were.
What’s the writing process for the band?
Basically, anybody can start a song that leads to a riff, and away we go. Everybody throws things together. There’s not so much of one person writing a whole song.
You and Doug Scarratt do some very cool guitar stuff.
We can handle a few styles (laughs)! We’re from different eras – I’m from the blues boom, he’s from the later blues boom and the Van Halen period.
How do you divide duties?
If someone thinks of an interesting part under a solo, that person plays it. We’re really team players. If anyone gets stuck on something, they’ll hand it over.
What is your number one guitar?
It’s a Gibson Les Paul Axcess. They put all the right things into it, and got around some of the problems, like high-fret playing, with the absence of a heel. The pickups sound good and the vibrato does what you’d expect. It’s also a bit lighter because it’s chambered. I did a bit of customizing with a switch that gives me the bridge pickup straight to the amp.
Which effects do you use?
I have an Electro-Harmonix Chorus/Flanger. I have a four-channel Marshall JVM 100-watt, preferably through a Celestion Vintage 30 cabinet and a foot switch, and I don’t add extra distortion.
Do you tweak your amp EQ to complement Doug’s sound, or do you run it the way you want to hear it behind you?
We have different EQ preferences, and they work well together. I started with a Strat and like everything to sound like a Strat… actually, it was a Jazzmaster, but you know what I mean! I like the thinner sound of things and he likes the girthier side of things, so we meet in the middle and try to balance the sound before we sound check.
Are there any contemporary guitar players who inspire you?
I like Matthew Bellamy of Muse – he’s very off-the-wall. And, Joe Satriani always inspires. I started learning to play like Clapton, then veered to Hendrixland, which was more effects-laden. Like a lot of U.K. guitarists of the middle ’60s, I was listening to a lot of white-boy blues then went back and checked out Albert, Freddy, and B.B. I also got into players like Terry Kath and Steve Howe, but the one who inspires me permanently is still Hendrix.
This article originally appeared in VG August 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
ZT Amplifiers put their name on the map four years ago with the compact Lunchbox solid-state amp. Now they continue along the road less traveled with the Extortion Expressive Distortion. For a departure from tonal convention the pedal features an analog overdrive that can be used on its own or enhanced with a digital signal processing (DSP) circuit.
Housed in a white metal chassis, the true-bypass Extortion offers impressive variability with just a few controls. The Level, Tone, and Drive controls are active once the hard-click Bypass button is depressed, and the Spectral DSP is merged with the signal by way of its own dedicated switch. Staring up from the center of the box is a figure fashioned on the howling character in “The Scream,” Edvard Munch’s quintessential work of Expressionist art. So … is the pedal expressive?
ZT’s unique approach to distorted voices is based almost entirely on EQ contouring, which starts with the analog circuit’s Tone control. Rather than sweeping bass and treble like a conventional tone knob, this one functions more like a graphic EQ. Mids are cut to the left of 12 o’clock (where the EQ is flat) and boosted to the right, with different high- and low-frequency settings on independent curves around the dial.
Depending in part on how the tone is set, the quality of the Drive control can be flappy like a Fuzz Face, edgy like an ’80s Marshall, hollow like an overdriven AC30, or more subtle like a soft gain – with a half-dozen variations between each. The boutique analog overdrive that ZT mentions is likely in there with a little tweaking.
Without the DSP engaged, the last stop before the signal heads out to the amp is the Level control. But stomping on the Spectral DSP bypass changes everything, adding a sweepable filter both before and after the analog circuit to create a genuine hybrid overdrive – or, as ZT calls it, “an analog/digital mutant.” The unusual function of this DSP algorithm filters just the distortion without affecting the EQ of the guitar signal. Rotating the Spectral DSP knob counterclockwise essentially broadens the low end of the distortion while a clockwise turn sharpens its high end, so it’s something like the filter in a wah pedal except that it sweeps only the distortion.
By selecting a contour with the Spectral DSP knob, a player can hone in on a specific distortion frequency to lend more thud to a thumping rhythm or more edge to a searing lead. For direct access to the entire range of the Spectral DSP, an expression pedal can be plugged into the pedal’s Control input, allowing for some pretty sick tones (in a good way), from a distorted horn to something akin to ring modulation to more nuanced effects like softened upper frequencies that shave the cutting edge off of high notes. Other stompboxes may provide the flexibility to dial in a variety of distortions, but none enable a player to vary them on the fly quite like this.
While the Spectral DSP gets all the cachet, the pedal’s secret weapon is really the Tone knob. The way the available tone contours interact with the Drive control deserves some time and attention. Once a sound is established between these two parameters, the Spectral DSP provides a good time by again multiplying the variables. After testing the Extortion with a handful of rigs, the strongest tones – with a hard leading edge for attacks and a fat back end – were best suited to metal and thrash, though there’s something here for anyone willing to stray off the beaten path.
There is a squash factor to consider with the Extortion. In more settings than not, it can squeeze and narrow tone like many other distortions do, but some tweaking of the Tone and Spectral DSP controls recovers desired fundamental qualities while distorting different guitars (particularly if the Drive isn’t set too high): a PRS is still creamy, a lightly overdriven Tele still has snap, and a Les Paul on the neck pickup is still nicely rounded. The pedal also provides a host of interesting things to do with a deliberately squashed tone. In the right hands, ZT’s Extortion can expand the available palette of distorted tones and radicalize a player’s sound.
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.
Upon first viewing you’ll notice that The Sound and the Story is different. The new video from guitarist Leslie West stands apart from other instructional guitar DVDs in that, while West is more than happy to show how to play some of his classic songs and discuss how he learned to play, his gregarious personality is on prominent display.
“That’s why I did it!” he laughed. “I looked at a lot guitar videos, and in order to get someone to watch, you’ve got to get their attention. So I thought I’d put some funny stuff in there.”
That “funny stuff” includes a wealth of one-liners that genuinely tickle the funny bone. In one bit, West the “guitar teacher” talks with student/“son” Zakk Wylde. The exchange is obscene, but very funny. In another, West conducts a tour of the Dean factory, where his guitars are made. As he runs the viewer past the ins-and-outs, he manages to cut off his hand (in a theatrical sense). It might sound a bit juvenile, but it adds a unique zest.
Of course, the heart of the disc has West sitting down, talking about his playing. The segment wasn’t scripted, but it contains a wealth of information and entertainment.
“Troy, the guy who did the tablature, was there, and he did a great job. If I’d pick up on something, he’d ask follow-up questions.”
As you’d expect, he gives the lowdown on Mountain’s signature tune, “Mississippi Queen.” West says there was no big trick to its pounding guitar part. “When Corky (Laing, Mountain drummer) and I wrote it, he had these words, and I just said let me see ’em. I came up with that riff and the chords and that was it.”
West also breaks down his soloing style and how he wrote other Mountain tunes. Long known for his melodic soloing, he says his style was born of necessity. “You know what it was? I couldn’t play fast. Felix (Pappalardi, Mountain producer and bassist) said, ‘You should be able to sing a solo. It’s like a song within a song.’ And I wanted to make sure people remember my solos. I didn’t want to get to a part of the song where it was just time for a solo. In a lot of songs, the solo has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the song. It’s just a bunch of notes!”
Citing Eric Clapton’s work with Cream as extremely influential, he calls Keith Richards early Stones work “Great… Because his solos were so raw, but they made so much sense. The riff from ‘Satisfaction’ might be the greatest riff ever.” For rhythm guitar, he loved the work of Pete Townshend, and actually had a chance to work with him when The Who were recording Who’s Next.
“They did the original recording in New York City. We had the same agent and I got a call that Pete wanted to know if I wanted to play guitar. I said, ‘Well, they already have a guitar player.’ But he said they didn’t want to overdub. I was a nervous kid, but it was quite the experience.” West’s parts didn’t make it onto the album, which was re-done when The Who went back to England, but they can be heard on subsequent reissues.
Guitar fans will enjoy seeing West go to the Dean factory and explore how they make his and other guitars. His signature guitar has a peace sign design element that matches an earring he wears. He didn’t realize until after the fact they managed to sneak something else in. “I have the earring and I wanted them to put it in the guitar. Just cut out a spot in the wood, and in the ebony goes the mother-of-pearl. My fiancée at the time looked at it and said, ‘Did you see it was your initials?’ I didn’t!”
Dean made 10 of the guitars and sold them all at a NAMM show. They also make a production Leslie West model, and West plays both versions onstage. Long-time fans will remember West for his use of Gibson Les Paul Junior guitars during the early days of Mountain. He remembers them fondly as “…a tree with a microphone.” He also remembers a Gibson Flying V from which he took the neck pickup, leaving an empty cavity. “People would ask, ‘Where’s the pickup?’ And I’d just say, ‘This isn’t a guitar. It’s an ashtray.’”
Another key part of Mountain’s early sound came by happy accident. “I opened up some boxes from Sunn, thinking they were guitar amplifiers, and my heart sank because they were P.A. heads. But I had no choice but to use them. The great thing is it had four mic inputs and a master input. So that’s how that preamp sound started.”
Today, West uses amps made for him by Budda, and is particularly fond of their simplicity. “The heads are so efficient. I use the 45-watt on stage, and I can’t even turn the master up past 3 or 4. The tone is superb. It’s just got a push/pull for distortion. It’s only got about six knobs on it.”
While West may not always get his due as being an influential rock guitarist, this DVD shows him to be a great player and student of the instrument. He hopes it’ll help some younger players develop their playing. “It’s like, I used to love Reggie Jackson. But if somebody gave me Reggie Jackson’s bat and glove, I’m not gonna hit and throw like him. Still, I can watch him and learn how he goes about his business.”
This article originally appeared in VG April 2010 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
