Three decades, umpteen records, and several stellar bands into his career, and Brian Setzer still makes rockabilly sound fresh and exciting. This album has much of the verve of his debut, 1981’s Stray Cats, and his so-called “’68 Comeback Special,” Ignition. For a musician this far along in his career, that’s saying something about his inspiration and joy in playing.
As with the original Stray Cats, Setzer’s ensemble here is a stripped-down, hot-rodded group; no horns, no rhythm guitar, no organ, just straight-ahead rockabilly. He’s reunited with drummer Noah Levy, killer pianist Kevin McKendree, and bassist Mark Winchester. The group is nobly tight, dynamic, and fun.
Quartet they may be, but the all-important fifth band member was producer Peter Collins, who earlier worked with Setzer on Vavoom! and The Dirty Boogie. Setzer credits Collins as the brains behind many of the arrangements, as well as the recorded sound, captured in a Nashville studio.
While the album may have the spark of Stray Cats, Setzer’s playing is much more complex. He’s not merely channeling Eddie Cochran, as he did way back when. Over the years, his fretwork has grown to include numerous other, more far-reaching influences, particularly from vintage jazz. At times here, you might miss the innocence, simplicity, and sheer raw energy of those early days. But his mature creativity and fretwork brilliance will make you a believer.
The album kicks off in high style with the single, “Let’s Shake,” which basically takes up where “Rock This Town” left off. Setzer’s solo is hot, but pianist McKendree offers a Jerry Lee Lewis-style solo that sizzles as well. Great stuff.
“Rockabilly Blues” intermixes Setzer’s fingerpicking and flatpicking, creating a song that’s anything but clichéd rockabilly.
Setzer and McKendree are back, trading fours in “Vinyl Records.” “I Should Have Had A V8” is pure fun while “Cock-a-Doodle Don’t” is a classic novelty tune that sounds like Louis Jordan hamming it up for Sun Records.
Setzer cut the whole album with the simplest of gear – just his ’59 Gretsch 6120, ’63 blonde Bassman piggyback, and a Roland Space Echo. On “What’s Her Name” he swapped amps for a ’50s Magnatone and its lovely true vibrato.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s October ’14 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
It’s been two years since Jim Campilongo put out a solo record, but on the new Dream Dictionary, his patented Telecaster tones take on greater dimension as he conjures a world of stark atmospherics, crushing twang, edgy note selection, and sly humor. He’s always on the move, but VG was quick enough to catch up with him.
Is Dream Dictionary still resonating, or have you moved on?
I’m thinking about the next three records I could be making (laughs)! I don’t listen to any of my records – I really just want to cleanse my palette and play music. A lot of times, I’ll hear the solo and try to not play what I’m hearing. That’s contrary to everything I believe (laughs).
You should play what you’re hearing – or try to play what you’re hearing. A lot of times, I can’t listen to it for a while but I’m really proud of it. I think the songs are really good and the performances were good. Josh Dion (drums), Chris Morrissey (bass), and I played maybe three weeks when I decided, ”Let’s record it. This band is great.” I did the same for American Hips and it caught a beautiful moment. Two years later, the material had matured into another entity. I get the feeling that may happen on Dream Dictionary. It was great to capture the band at a really nice, amorous point of chemistry.
Compared to past albums, Dream Dictionary is stark and intimate. You also utilize much more space. What was going on with you?
I was listening to a lot of Miles Davis and went back to Chopin, Julian Bream, and stuff like that. It was a year of loss for me; my father died and a relationship ended. I think the record must illustrate some of that. I didn’t wear it on my sleeve, it just happened organically, and maybe that’s what you’re hearing.
It’s very honest.
Thank you. Even the track with Nora Jones isn’t cloaked or veiled. I wanted to be super-real even when I’m being whimsical, like on “Pie Party.” In a lot of ways, it’s a bit of a manic record because “Dream Dictionary” is so stark, and then there’s “Nang Nang.”
You dip into a lot of influences. How do you classify yourself, stylistically?
When people ask what I do for a living, I say, “I’m a guitar player,” but I think of myself more as a composer (and) I always try and write a good song. A lot of times I think my music sounds a bit like The Who meets Miles Davis. Is Pete Townsend a rock guitar player? I don’t think of him as that. In the same regard, I don’t think of myself as a rock guitarist or a jazz guitarist.
You’ve carved a niche, weaving your own spin on Link Wray, Jimmy Bryant, and Roy Buchanan.
I appreciate that. What you hear are my choices – I chose to be influenced by Jimmy Bryant and Speedy West and their songwriting. I chose to listen to Muddy Waters, Django Reinhardt, Hank Garland, and Chet Atkins. Now that I’m middle-aged, I’m accepting of what I am.
You’ve been playing for 40 years. Compare your playing today to 25 years ago.
That’s when I started to get serious. I remember immersing myself in “Steve Vai’s 10-Hour Workout” (laughs)! Part of it was scales in every key and in thirds. He said something that was very profound: “You don’t have to practice all the scales in thirds. If you practice one scale in thirds, the others will all fall into place.” He was right.
Then I got this book called Guitar Complete, by Jay Friedman. It has every arpeggio from one end of the neck to the other. I did that, wrote, transcribed stuff, and learned solos by Jimmie Rivers, Bryant, Garland, Johnny Smith, and Barney Kessel. Because I gave lessons, I didn’t have to convolute my mission to [learn] music I wanted to master. I did that for 10 years – then started Ten Gallon Cats. That’s when I started to find my voice. Writing my own compositions allowed me to find who I was.
How has your taste in gear evolved?
I’m so fortunate. Tone Concepts gave me this really great thing called The Distillery. It really does make your guitar sound like it’s on steroids. I use my Fender signature model guitars and the amp I use most is a silverface Princeton Reverb with a Celestion G10. I also have one with a JBL 120F, and a blackface ’68 with a Fender C10N. I’m not going to check out 10 vintage amps – I’m not patient enough. I’d rather learn a tune. I just want six strings tuned to A440.
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.
When it comes to custom, hand-made guitars, many prefer an instrument that innately reveals the work of its craftsman – the type that, instead of merely being a replica of a famous body shape, can be held and admired for its details. Matt Proctor’s M-Tone Slipstream is a good example.
While many custom axes are modified/“improved” versions of Strats, Teles, and Les Pauls, M-Tone guitars are knock-offs of nothing. Its double-cutaway design reaches more for a gumby’d Teisco or Eko body shape than anything immediately familiar. Same with the headstock; it’s six-on-a-side design says “Fender,” but the shape is more a stockinged foot than a Tele, and its logo is set in relief. It’s complex, but attractive.
The Slipstream has a one-piece mahogany body and gorgeous, hand-carved Pau Ferro neck with an oil finish; prepare to swoon, folks – it’s downright seductive, and topped with a 22-fret rosewood fingerboard with a 12″ radius and 25.5″ neck scale. Other details include Hipshot locking tuners, Lollar P-90 single-coil pickups, black-finished master Volume and Tone controls, a snazzy six-saddle bridge, and three-way pickup selector.
Proctor throws in other interesting features, such as a lack of plastic; the pickguard and control plate are 16-gauge steel, surfaced to match the finish of each guitar. Final appointments include a pleasantly quirky array of aluminum fingerboard dots (“strategically placed,” Matt notes), and a 1957 Sputnik badge sunk into the top horn. Nicely done, comrade! The whole kit-and-kaboodle comes in a manageable 7.6 pounds, comfortable for a long gig, especially with the Slipstream’s curvaceous edges and rear contour cut. There’s also a “Jackbite” body cut in the rear, which shelters the cable end and provides a nice design nuance.
Plugged in, the Slipstream exhibits many personalities despite its simple layout. With dual P-90s, you might expect your basic Les Paul Junior attack. Sure, you can play all the driving rock-and-roll you want, but the M-Tone has a great jam-band dimension, ripe for any Jerry Garcia-isms you care to roll its way. Ladle on some tremolo and reverb, and take the Slipstream for a surfy ride along the beach, or delve into whatever blues, country, or funk ideas you have in mind. The Slipstream sounds terrific with washes of chorus, reverb, and echo, creating a retro shimmer perfect for post-bop improvisation. Personality-wise, the sky’s the limit and, with the guitar’s supple neck, getting there is a joy.
The M-Tone Slipstream is what we want to see in a custom guitar – true uniqueness and superlative craftsmanship in a compelling package. This guitar is gorgeous, plays great, and sounds wicked.
This article originally appeared in VG February 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
To call Pete Huttlinger a survivor is an understatement. The notable Nashville fingerpicker has fought back from a major stroke and end-stage heart failure to record the most important album of his career, McGuire’s Landing.
The effort began years ago, and Huttlinger had recorded some of its tracks before being sidelined by his health. A benefit concert was held in Nashville to help Huttlinger with medical expenses, which included being life-flighted and the installation of a heart pump. “Jeff Hanna, Mark Selby, Bekka Bramlett, Vince Gill, Sean Della Croce, John Jorgensen, Cynthia Martinez, Jim Hoke, Sam Bush, John Oates, and Bill Lloyd and The Long Players all lent their immense talents,” he recalled. “It was an amazing night of music, and the love in the room was palpable. They all were so wonderful and generous with their time, and helped raise quite a lot of money, which helped offset the cost for almost five months in the hospital and the hotel bills for my wife’s four-month stay in Houston.”
Huttlinger’s near-death experience made him more determined than ever to record the album he’d envisioned while working with another music legend.
“I actually wrote the tune ‘McGuire’s Landing’ years ago, while working for John Denver,” he said. “He loved it and wanted to write lyrics for it. We talked about the pictures in my mind when I wrote it, and unfortunately he passed away before writing the lyric. So, I started mulling the idea of a concept album. I wanted the project to be special, and I knew I was going to write the story and include that in the package. I wanted large string sections, so it took a lot of planning and fundraising. I had all but five or six of the tunes recorded before I had the stroke. That set me back a bit while I learned to play guitar again.”
The stroke beget Huttlinger’s heart problems, and his recuperation included finishing writing the concept album, beginning the recording sessions, and writing the narrative in its 54-page booklet.
“It had been in my head so long, the process was kind of quick,” he said of his scribe work. “The most time-consuming part of the story was the editing and re-writing.”
McGuire’s Landing has a mixture of instrumentals and vocals by Huttlinger and guest singers, and reaches into history for its numerous influences on various tunes.
“I’ve always loved the old musical Paint Your Wagon, and I tend to see things in my head as movies,” Huttlinger detailed. “The scene where the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band was playing ‘Hand Me Down That Can O’ Beans’ and the fight that ensues in the mud inspired the tune ‘Saturday Night At McGuire’s Landing.’ I used to live on a street called Forest Side, hence ‘Forest Side Reel.’ ‘Moon Over Clear Lake’ was written at Clear Lake, California, on the night of the biggest and fullest moon anyone has ever seen. It came rising up over the lake and I sat there, stunned. The next thing, I knew the tune was coming out of my guitar. ‘Falling’ was written originally for a Disney film called Hidalgo. It sat in the directors’ lap for three weeks, then came back to me. I knew it was a special song, so I sat on it ’til the time was right.”
Huttlinger also produced and engineered the album, which has several songs that interpolate strings, but the guitarist wasn’t intimidated by the task.
“I’ve worked with quite a few symphonies and chamber orchestras, so it was very easy because I recorded parts first, then we added strings to my tracks. I arranged everything but the orchestral parts; the strings had been written for the title track by Don Hart many years ago, and I loved them so much I had Don write the parts for the other tracks. I was thrilled.”
Another development was a Collings signature acoustic. “I was still very sick in the hospital when the whole thing came together,” he noted. “It was only made known to me after the first notice was sent out to the dealers. So I had no input, but I wouldn’t have changed a thing. It is a standard OM1 or OM1-A with my signature in the fretboard at the 12th fret. Both models are cutaways.”
Among the instruments Huttlinger played on McGuire’s Landing were several other Collings models (D1-A, OM1, OM1-A, CJ), a Bozung Model J guitar, a Takemine classical guitar, Deering Golden Era and Gibson RB-250 banjos, and Collings and Gilchrest mandolins.
McGuire’s Landing marks Huttlinger’s return to action. “I never knew I had so many friends. Whenever my phone rings and someone needs me to play, I say ‘When and where?’ I love giving back.”
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.
Crazy Tube Circuits Stardust, Splash MKII, and Pin Up Fuzz
Price: $290 (splash MKll); $260 (Pin Up Fuzz); $235 (Stardust)
Contact: www.crazytubecircuits.com
Athens, Greece – birthplace of the Olympics, democracy, Western philosophy – and killer boutique effects.
Under the aegis of Christos Ntaifotis, Crazy Tube Circuits has been building pedals since 2005 with the goal of not just cloning classic designs, but adding a twist. Christos recently sent us three of his pedals – the Splash MKII reverb, the Pin Up fuzz/octave, and the Stardust overdrive. All have heavy duty die-cast housings with nicely executed high-gloss finishes, chassis-mounted jacks, switches, and pots, and true-bypass footswitches.
The Pin Up fuzz/octave pedal has controls for Volume, Tone, Voicing, and Gain, as well as footswitches and LEDs to operate the entire circuit and/or a separate one for the octave effect. Using a Gibson Les Paul Standard plugged into an 18-watt tube head and 1×12 cabinet, and with the Fuzz and Octave both engaged, we got a very percussive fuzz effect with aggressive-but-smooth pick attack and loads of sustain. Engaging the neck pickup and rolling back the guitar’s Tone helped coax a synth-like sound, yet still offered excellent tracking and a smooth, creamy tone. The pedal’s Tone control boosts/cuts high frequencies, while the Voice control either scoops or adds midrange to the effect. Both are well-voiced and smooth, and between the two, you can dial in nearly any fuzz sound from classic thin-and-scratchy to a thick, round overdrive-meets-fuzz tone. Click on the Octave switch for even more otherworldly octave/ring mod tones. Even with the gain piled on, note separation and attack remain.
The Splash MKII reverb uses a control labeled “Excite,” which adds harmonics and presence to its high-frequency sounds, a Decay for reverb time, Mix/Kill Dry for wet-to-dry balance, Volume to overall output, and a two-position toggle to engage its reverb algorithms (which have a couple of preset pre-delay/decay choices). Both algorithms are complex and natural-sounding, with lively, yet warm decay and rich clean highs that don’t sound sterile or cold and digital. Excite does an excellent job adding presence and clarity to the reverb’s high-end without sounding artificial or brash. It’s much more interactive than your typical high-frequency roll-off control.
We used the Splash MKII through the effects loop of the amp head, where it added very little (if any) noise to the signal. The pedal’s Volume control compensates for any lost headroom – a well-conceived feature. While the Splash doesn’t necessarily have a spring-reverb sound, its verb blends very well with guitar and doesn’t wash out the amp/guitar tone, even when blended heavily.
The Brit-voiced Stardust overdrive has a straightforward control scheme, with Gain for the amount of overdrive, Tone to control the high frequencies, and a Volume to control overall volume. It renders a moderate amount of gain with a smooth midrange boost with a nice, percussive quality. Single notes pop and chords are super crunchy, á la Mick Ronson’s famed tone with David Bowie some 40 years ago. The subtle-yet-effective Tone adds a bit of presence and bite without getting harsh or scratchy. Overdrive pedals, by their nature, tend to sap low-end response from a guitar’s signal, but the Stardust’s low-end is fairly transparent, and keeps the sound full and round, even with the Gain dimed.
All three Crazy Tube pedals offer great build quality, top-notch features and tone, as well as unique personality and vibe.
This article originally appeared in VG February 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Most guitar aficionados are comfortable with the notion of guitar brands being made by the company of the same name. But when it comes to guitars made by one company and sold by another, we frequently stray out of our comfort zone.
Yet, some of the most significant players in American guitar history never actually shaved a neck or wired in a pickup. Major distributors such as C. Bruno and Buegeleisen & Jacobson sold many guitars made for them by someone else. No one did more for disseminating guitars to Americans than Montgomery Ward and Sears, and they never built one, though Sears did own Harmony for almost 30 years.
Another company that falls into this category is St. Louis Music (SLM). While SLM does some manufacturing (Crate and Ampeg amps), for more than 50 years, this distributor from the banks of the Mississippi River has provided significant numbers of guitars made for them by other manufacturers, including the Kay-built 1962 Custom Kraft Dynamic Color guitar you see here.
SLM was founded in 1922 by a violinist named Bernard Kornblum as an importer of German-made violins. Just when SLM began marketing guitars is unclear, but by January of ’55 the distributor was promoting Magnatone Hawaiian lap steel guitars. They also carried guitars by Harmony, Kay, Alamo, Supro, and Rickenbacker. Shortly thereafter, SLM began to sell a limited number of Kay-made acoustic archtops carrying its own brand name – Custom Kraft. This was an interesting choice, since Kay had changed from being Stromberg-Voisinet to Kay using the Kay Kraft brand name in the early 1930s. In mid 1960, SLM added Kay’s new Thinline electrics to its offerings. These were single-cutaway, Les-Paul-shaped hollowbodies offered in blond and sunburst finishes.
In 1961, SLM changed orders with Kay and converted its Thinlines to a new series of Custom Kraft Color Dynamic Electric Guitars. Basically, these were identical to their Kay siblings except for being available in cool new colors; the 4153 was the Red Fury in Bright Fire Engine Red, the 4154 was the White Crusader in Pure Snow White, and the 4155 was the Midnight Special in Dazzling Sparkle Black, all listing for $99.95 with a highly polished case, cord, and neck adjustment key. Beyond the names of the colors, these were some of the best model names ever!
The 4153 Red Fury is made of laminated maple with a bolt-on (probably) maple neck. The top and rosewood fingerboard are bound in cool checkerboard celluloid. The single-coil pickups are stock Kay units.
These are decent little guitars with respectable output, perfect for romping through Duane Eddy licks or the “Guitar Boogie Shuffle!” The pickups have that sparkling clarity only a single-coil can deliver. Plus, if you’re not as young as you used to be, you’ll appreciate the light weight of the hollow body!
The Kay Thinline series was offered through 1965, but SLM’s Custom Kraft Dynamic Colors seem to drop from sight after ’62. Whether or not they also made it through ’65 is not known.
In ’63, SLM made the plunge into electric solidbodies, this time with a line of Custom Kraft Ambassadors produced by Valco. This switch is easy to understand: Valco’s Supro guitars, from which the Ambassadors were adapted, were way hipper than anything Kay was making at the time. Like the Kay-made Dynamic Colors, these were offered in cool colors. Several Custom Kraft acoustic flat-tops were also introduced.
SLM did not entirely abandon Kay as a supplier, however, as it also added a Kay-made “professional” solidbody called the Custom Kraft Golden Regent, plus another double-cutaway thinline called the Silver Caravelle. In ’64, SLM ran a wonderful full-page pop-art ad in The Music Trades for the Valco-made Custom Krafts, which were then identified as the Ambassador model, with testimonial stating, “The IN sound is English… and the ‘Liverpool Five’ get it with Custom Kraft.” Or at least Ken Cox, their lead guitarist did.
SLM’s Custom Krafts apparently went into limbo after this, though the firm continued to sell other brands, including Danelectro. This may have had to do with industry realignments involving Kay at the time. In 1966, Seeburg (the jukebox folks) purchased Kay, though this didn’t seem to have much effect on the brand. Seeburg must have realized it had bitten off more than it could chew, and in ’67 Kay was sold to its rival Valco, effectively bringing together both of SLM’s suppliers! In June, 1968, SLM announced new finishes.
Alas, Valco/Kay bit the dust in August of ’68. Curiously enough, SLM introduced its last Custom Krafts, the Mod line, in October. These included the Super Zapp six-string, Saturator 12-string, and Bone Buzzer bass. These were made of Valco parts. Whether Valco finished these before the collapse or delivered the parts for SLM to assemble is unknown. These were the last Custom Krafts. Valco/Kay was auctioned off in 1969.
Interestingly, SLM promoted its final Custom Krafts as being “all hand-made in America.” This was, no doubt, to distinguish them from the growing numbers of Japanese guitars flooding the market, including some sold by SLM itself! By around 1967 SLM began importing its first Japanese-made, Burns-inspired solidbodies carrying the Apollo label. These probably lasted only a year or so. In 1968/’69, just as the Valcos and Kays disappeared, SLM introduced more solids with the Electra brand name. These are very rarely seen, which means probably few were brought in. One was modeled after a Hagstrom, and following the introduction of the Ampeg Dan Armstrong “see-through” guitar and bass, SLM was (along with Aria and Ibanez) right there in 1970 with The Electra “copy.
In the ’70s, Electra became SLM’s flagship brand, offering many excellent guitars, including the famous MPC line with built-in effects that eventually led to Crate amplifiers. SLM’s Electra line continued until 1984, when SLM entered a joint venture with Japan’s legendary Matsumoku company and changed its brand to Westone. When Matsumoku bit the dust in ’88, SLM gathered its electrics under its esteemed acoustic brand name, Alvarez.
So there it is: St. Louis Music. So many great guitars, so many innovations, and never a pin router in the house!
This article originally appeared in VG‘s Aug ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
You can receive more great articles like this in our twice-monthly e-mail newsletter, Vintage Guitar Overdrive, FREE from your friends at Vintage Guitar magazine. VG Overdrive also keeps you up-to-date on VG’s exclusive product giveaways! CLICK HERE to receive the FREE Vintage Guitar Overdrive.
From 1978 through 2010, Mitch Colby helped Marshall become a preeminent name in amplifiers. He recently founded Colby Amplification, where he builds amps by hand, one at a time, and his first model, the Dual Tone Booster (dtb), was built in collaboration with Jim Weider, best known as former guitarist of the Band, and a well-known tone expert.
The Dual Tone Booster 50 head and cab is neatly attired in off-white tolex, with a brown panel and matching brown grillecloth. Though technically a two-channel amp, there are a great many more tonal options via the footswitch, which not only changes channels, but accesses two distinctly-voiced boost options. The amp has a bypassable, tube-buffered effects loop (with send- and return-level controls), a back-panel bias pot (with meter jacks), and a variable impedance selector.
Through Channel One, the dtb50’s Bright switch and Shift switch give the player options for thickening lower mids – particularly useful for a single-coil guitar. You’ll also find channel-specific Volume, Treble, Mid and Bass controls. On the top right are the master functions which control both channels in case you prefer to fly without the footswitch. The more-overdriven Channel Two has many of the same controls, and also employs a gain pot, followed by a Master Volume, Bass boost, and two Boost mini toggles.
Playing a vintage maple-board Fender Stratocaster, the amp conjures clean, Robert-Cray-style tones – quacky, but not plinky, with ample squeeze to sustain individual notes while retaining their dynamics. Flipping on the Shift switch reveals a big dose of mid-bottom – great for any single-coil player who happens to be the only guitarist in the band.
The amp’s secret weapon is its incredibly dynamic and sensitive Mid control. Turned down, mids are totally scooped, for that SRV-type sound. As the Mid is turned up, the amp starts to really bark, producing a Stones-like honk reminiscent of Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out. Turning up the Channel One volume provides additional hair, to the point of rendering a great blues/rock-and-roll rhythm sound with enough sustain for clean lead work. This channel is impressively open- and chimey-sounding.
Channel Two had all the balls needed to play heavy rock; a heavy blues or moderate-rock player could readily utilize this channel – without boost – for both rhythm and lead work, controlling drive/distortion through only the guitar’s Volume knob(s).
A Gibson Les Paul ’59 reissue was just as satisfying; Malcolm-Young-style rhythm crunch can be had through Channel One, where the Bright switch lends a gorgeous bit of shimmer, while Channel Two offers a singing, harmonic distorted tone which again cleans up nicely by rolling down the guitar’s Volume control.
Channel Two’s dual-boost options (controllable by front-panel mini toggles or the LED-equipped footswitch) make this amp tremendously versatile. Boost 1 provides a similar tone with even more gain and compression, giving seemingly infinite sustain to both the Strat and Les Paul. Thick and creamy as the amp is in Boost 1 mode, Boost 2 provides even more low-mid and body, giving the Strat a fullness on par with the Les Paul. Both Boosts generate tones suitable for singing lead work as well as heavy rock or metal rhythms. The tonal flexibility and variety of overdriven tones produced by Channel Two and the boost options virtually eliminates the need for an outboard distortion pedal.
No matter how thick and distorted this amp’s tone – regardless of channel/boost modes – its sensitivity keeps the player in control. Chords of all types ring with substantial bloom, resulting in a round, tubular tone and beautiful, singing notes. Because it sounds great at any volume, the dtb50 makes a great amp for the studio as well as live venues of all sizes (for the really serious, Colby does offer a 100-watt version). The dtb50 offers tonal excellence, versatility, and superior construction.
This article originally appeared in VG February 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Brian Ray spent the last 11 years playing guitar as Paul McCartney’s side man. While such duty would be a career topper for pretty much any player, Ray is also thrilled about his new band, The Bayonets, and his forthcoming signature-model Gibson.
How does one get a gig with a Beatle?
Well, the gig came after spending 14 years with Etta James to make me the right person – a lot of traveling, sweaty gigs, making nothing, but having the time of my life. In the ’90s, I was doing a solo gig in L.A. when a man named Phillipe Rault asked if I was interested in auditioning for Mylene Farmer – the Madonna of France. I got the gig and her new drummer was none other than (future McCartney bandmate) Abe Laboriele, Jr. Fast forward to 2002, and Paul’s producer, David Kahne, called Abe to do the Driving Rain album.
After that, Abe said they were going to tour, and I said “Who’s going to play guitar and bass when Paul is playing piano?” He said they were looking for someone, so I stuck my arm up saying, “I’d love a shot at that.” Two weeks later, David called with news of a gig playing one song, “Freedom,” which Paul was going to play at the 2002 Super Bowl. Paul was very kind to me, and five weeks later we were in rehearsal for what was only planned to be a six-week tour, but that has turned into 11 years.
Later this year, Gibson will release a Brian Ray signature ’63 SG…
It’s one sexy beast (laughs)! It’s based on the big-necked 1963 SGs. Vic DaPra and I were discussing it, and he had the great idea of putting on a Bigsby to give it more string length. Finish-wise, I thought of my ’65 Epiphone Casino’s “silver fox” finish. I thought that would look so sharp with a white pickguard, truss-rod cover and rear-cavity plate, giving it a tuxedo look. It has big 6100 frets, coil taps, and even-taper pots. I’m thankful to Vic and Phillip Whorton, of the Gibson Custom Shop, for making it happen.
Your new band is The Bayonets…
It’s with my longtime collaborator and great friend Oliver Lieber, who’s a talented producer. We were thinking about a raw, guitar-hero approach like Duane Eddy or Dick Dale, with big drums like Black Keys or Jack White.
What are some of your favorite instruments?
My ’57 goldtop Les Paul is one of the best-sounding guitars I’ve ever played and the one I’ve owned the longest – since my teen days with Phil Kaufman. I played it on every Etta James show except one. And I have a ’59 flametop Les Paul that’s just ridiculous – it looks brand new! I also have some other Gibsons including some ’50s TV Juniors and a ’62 PAF ES-335 dot-neck that’s beautiful.
What’s next?
I’m really enjoying getting more fans of real music turned onto The Bayonets, it’s a great motivator. That, and hopefully a whole lot more music with Paul McCartney… we’ll see what he has in store!
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.
The guitar synthesizer has been around for more than 30 years and made significant inroads to contemporary music, thanks to fusion heroes like Pat Metheny, John McLaughlin, Al Di Meola, Steve Morse, and Allan Holdsworth. The latest wrinkle is the Misa Kitara, which shifts the paradigm.
Instead of a synth pickup that mounts on a standard guitar and triggers sounds via a floor unit (like the Roland GR), the Kitara contains its own synth sounds onboard, plus has the ability to control external keyboards and modules via MIDI cables.
A significant feature of the Kitara is its button-laden fretboard. Instead of pressing a string down against the fingerboard – which is great for guitar, but not quite perfect for guitar synthesizer – Misa provides every note on the Kitara’s neck with its own on/off button. Why is this significant? Because the keys on a keyboard or piano are simply on/off switches, and the basis of all MIDI synthesis is track accurately, i.e., the ability to turn a note on or off. Thus, for guitar synthesists, the concept of a neck full of buttons is potentially more desirable than strings and frets, something that has been previously brought to fruition by the guitar-like instruments known as Synth-Axe and Ztars from Starr Labs.
The Kitara has 24 frets which, times six strings, which equals 144 notes and, therefore, 144 buttons. Sounds weird, but it’s actually quite logical. You may further look at the Kitara, scratch your head and ask, “Where are the strings, amigo?” Instead of a string-triggered setup, the Kitara has a big touch-pad screen built into the top of the body; it’s somewhat like having an iPad mounted on a guitar. Using the pad, the player can interface with the Kitara’s sounds in multiple ways, i.e. set it to a bank of virtual strings so you can “fingerpick” or “strum” with traditional guitar techniques. Owing to the synthesizer architecture, you can also trigger sounds by sliding your finger on one of these virtual strings, or even bend a note. There are other ways to “pick” sounds, as well. Bring up the glowing blue ball on the screen, put a finger on it, and drag it around the screen to create different sounds and effects, all while fretting notes and chords on the neck. You can also tap the screen to get various stuttering and staccato sounds – it’s hard to conceptualize without seeing. Fortunately, there are quite a few videos online that help understand what all this looks and sounds like.
So, how do you plug in the Kitara? You have a few choices. There’s a traditional 1/4″ cable output; use this to plug into an amp or PA and pull sounds from the guitar’s onboard synthesizer. Via the touch-screen is a menu of sounds that are easy to choose from – again, something like an iPad. Second is a MIDI output that can plug into a keyboard synth or a rack sound module. In this instance, the Kitara becomes a “controller” and drives the other synthesizer’s internal sounds (it may seem complicated, but is actually easy). In this part of our tests, we plugged the MIDI Out of the Kitara into the MIDI In of a Korg M50 keyboard synthesizer, and used the Misa axe to drive the Korg’s onboard sounds. This feature is useful when you want to get sounds other than those onboard the Kitara; in the world of MIDI synthesizers, the sky is the limit, sound-wise. There’s a headphone output for personal jamming, and a USB jack that plugs into an Internet-enabled computer to transfer files or get software updates.
So what’s the Misa Kitara like to actually play? In a word – cool! It’s both very similar to a guitar, and yet different. You hold and fret the Kitara like a guitar, but instead of pressing a string down to a fret, you push a button. It takes a second to get used to, but conceptually, is very similar. Picking and strumming is again similar, but, this being a synth, there’s no one way to do anything. You can set the Kitara to a traditional string configuration on the touch screen and play fairly old-school, or employ that onscreen blue ball and come up with some seriously whacky synth sounds.
For pros, the Kitara’s interface is simple and user-friendly. The touch-pad is easy to navigate and trigger. We really like the fact it’s plug-and-play, and you don’t have to spend much time tweaking MIDI settings to make the thing work. The built-in synth sounds are not all great, but there are presets that will help a new player get going without much fuss. Also cool is the instrument’s double-cutway/headless design – certainly an homage to the Steinberger M-Series guitar.
For debits, the buttons on the fretboard are almost too small. Unless you have petite fingers, it’s hard to press them with any mix of speed and accuracy. Also, the Kitara is an electronic instrument, so it requires a separate power cable in addition to audio and MIDI outputs. This isn’t a problem, but it’s another wire to think about.
Ultimately, who’s going to want a Kitara? It’s fair to assume it probably won’t appeal to the classic Fender, Gibson, or Martin player. Rather, it’s for guitarists who either dig guitar synthesizers and want to dig deeper, or one of the rising generation of electronic musicians who aren’t necessarily even guitarists, but want to make digital music using the latest tool. The instrument signals a new era for affordable digital guitars. The old-fashioned will never go away, but the rise of digital axes may be coming, fast and furious, and the Misa Kitara is an interesting tone-tool on the road to that reality. Deal with it.
This article originally appeared in VG January 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Frank (left) and Buzz Rogers in the “Pool House” at Frank’s home studio. Frank has his ’63 Gibson ES-335, Buzz a ’29 Gibson L-5. Photo: Benton Henry.
Fathers and music – two of the most influential things in the lives of most guitarists. No matter if their jams happen on a worldwide stage or the living-room floor, guitar players speak loud and proud of dear ol’ dad – the person who often put that first guitar in their hands! Each year, VG asks readers to help recognize those who formed their appreciation for music and the instrument we hold so dear.
This year, we also spoke to Frank Rogers, a music producer in Nashville who has helped craft 38 #1 hits by stars such as Brad Paisley, Josh Turner, Trace Adkins, Darius Rucker, and others on his way to 13 nominations at the Country Music Association (including a win for Album of the Year for Paisley’s Time Well Wasted), five consecutive Billboard magazine awards for Hot Country Producer, four MusicRow Producer of the Year nods, and five awards from the Academy of Country Music. To coincide, he has co-written three #1 hits – Paisley’s “I’m Gonna Miss Her (The Fishin’ Song),” as well as “Alright” and “This” by Darius Rucker – along with several other hit singles.
Rogers’ story is phenomenal, and he was encouraged every step along the path to success by his father, Frank M. Rogers, IV – a.k.a. Buzz. We recently spoke with both to discuss the influence fathers have had on sons in their family – and as you might expect, music has played a key role in their lives.
As guitar “collectors” go, the two Rogers represent opposite ends in the spectrum. Buzz is the prototype; a babyboomer who came of age when the Beatles pushed rock and roll to the fore, he gathers guitars out of appreciation and nostalgia, but also because they help him recall the influence of his own father. Frank, on the other hand, uses guitars mostly to butter his bread. Both say sound and feel matter most!
“I don’t care what year it was made, I don’t care what color it is, I don’t care what shape it is,” he said. “If it feels right and has the sound I’m looking for, it can be a $200 guitar or a $20,000 guitar. It’s about tone and playability. They really are tools.”
1) Frank Rogers calls this ’64 Gibson ES-335, “a special one.” 2) Frank aquired this 1961 Gibson Byrdland at an Arlington Guitar Show he attended with his father in the early ’90s. “I glanced through a row of guitars and saw it. I said, ‘Dad, that looks like your Byrdland, and he said, ‘It is. I never play it, so…’ I said, ‘Well, you’re not selling it.’ So I walked over and politely told the dealer that it, in fact, was not for sale (laughs), then I wrote a check to Dad.” 3) The Rogers’ and country star Brad Paisley discovered the work of Kent Everett while at Arlington in the early ’90s. This Silver Series guitar can be heard on many of the records produced by Frank Rogers. He calls it “The antithesis of the J-45.” 4) Frank bought this ’58 Martin D-18 from Bryan Sutton during a recording session. ‘I told him, ‘That guitar sounds great, what is it?’ He told me, then said, “I’m getting rid of it (because) I have another that’s pretty similar.’ I said, ‘Name your price.’” Photos: Rusty Russell.
Buzz, how did music become part of your life?
BUZZ ROGERS: I was always in a choir of some sort, from grammar school through high school, and also had a stint with the violin and clarinet, both of which I disliked. My father, who was 93 when he died three years ago, had a passion for music. He was an audiophile going back to the early 1950s and spent a lifetime buying speakers and amps, searching for the Holy Grail. We spent decades listening to music together. He had an ear for tone like no other, and Frank gets a lot of his producer’s ear from him.
Frank, what are the earliest memories of music registering with you?
FRANK ROGERS: When I would visit Dad, he was always strumming a guitar. I remember him playing along with Steve Miller Band records.
One of Frank Rogers’ most prized guitars is this ’98 Fender Custom Shop Buck Owens Tele, given to him as a gift from the man himself complete with a personal message engraved on the pickguard. Photos: Rusty Russell.
Who were your early guitar heroes?
BUZZ ROGERS: My father, first, because he taught me what he knew from his years playing saxophone – he adapted the notes in sax leads to chords. He was a Marine fighter-pilot instructor during World War II and stayed in California for a while after the war. He used to watch Les Paul play in a small club and would ask Les to help him with jazz-chord forms! As I got better at guitar, Dad would up the ante with more-difficult chords, and then I started learning pop songs from the ’50s and ’60s – I was born in ’47, so Elvis introduced me to rock and roll. I also loved Chuck Berry and I was taken in a big way by the Beach Boys and the Beatles, but I wasn’t driven by the players as much as the music – I grew up in a time when music influenced by the guitar was exploding; great players were coming up with things never done before. It was an exciting time, so I learned the chords and leads of songs I liked.
If I had to pick one guitarist as a musical hero, it would be George Harrison, who was at the forefront when the boundaries of rock-guitar weren’t fully discovered. He was a big part of my development – very tasteful and creative, and under-appreciated.
(RIGHT) Frank Rogers uses this ’64 Gibson J-45 for 80 percent of his songwriting work. “Every time I pick it up, I play something new. If I could have just one guitar, it would be the one. It’s got soul; it’s got songs in it.” Photo: Rusty Russell.
FRANK ROGERS: I never was a devotee of any particular band or artist or even style of music. If something grabbed me, I wanted to learn it, and that went from classical to country to R&B to rock to jazz – you name it. I grew up in the ’80s and the whole hair-metal thing, but at the same time I was a big fan of the Eagles and James Taylor, and on the country side there were a lot of pickers; Ricky Skaggs, Emmylou’s Hot Ban , etc. I learned certain guitar parts, but what really moved me was songs and how they made you feel..
What were your first guitars and amps?
BUZZ ROGERS: I got started at age nine, on my dad’s Epiphone archtop. My first was an Epiphone Casino; dad went to New York in 1964, to Manny’s Music, and told an impatient salesman, “I have flown here from South Carolina and I’m going to buy a Selmer saxophone, a guitar, and an amp if you don’t rush me.” He ended up sitting on a crate in the stockroom, trying out the semi-hollowbodies. I have the invoice framed in my music room. The next year, he bought me a Fender Bandmaster amp.
The heart of Frank’s stall of studio amps includes a mid-’60s Fender Deluxe Reverb, an early-’90s Matchless CR30 built by Mark Sampson, a plexi Marshall “…for when we need to get loud,” a vintage Vox AC30, a Carr Slant V6, and a Dr. Z Carmen Ghia. Amp photo: Rusty Russell.
FRANK ROGERS: Dad gave me a guitar for Christmas one year and I messed with it a little, then put it in the closet. I was about 12 when I took it out one day and went, “This is cool!” In high school I had a Strat, a DOD American Metal pedal, and a Fender Sidekick amp. I could make it sound like a clean guitar or use the pedal to sound like a distorted guitar – those were my options (laughs)!
How did each of you learn the nuances in the way one guitar sounded compared to another?
BUZZ ROGERS: For me, hearing differences in tone started before the guitar. Dad and I would listen to records by Duke Ellington, Harry James, Count Basie, Woody Herman, then later to Doc Severinsen and Maynard Ferguson, to see how clearly we could hear sax parts, trombones, and trumpets. I grew up as electric guitars were developed in the ’50s and ’60s and always paid attention to the differences in tone between Fenders, Gibsons, Gretches, and Rickenbackers. I’ve learned about great guitar tone with acoustic guitars from Frank.
(LEFT) Buzz Rogers’ ’58 Strat has “…a great neck and tone. There’s so much you can do with it.” Strat photo: Benton Henry.
FRANK ROGERS: I started really zoning in on guitar tones in college; as I learned more and more about gear, I’d hear the subtleties, and of course players record with different rigs – some sound great, some sound awful! So at the same time, I started relating different sounds to various guitars, amps, and pedals… then you go down the rabbit hole and learn to hear the differences in strings, picks, pickups, cables, etc. It never ends!
BUZZ ROGERS: Frank has an incredible ear for a guitar’s balance, clarity, warmth, and vibe. I’ve watched him go down a line of acoustics at a guitar show or at a dealer’s store, strumming from one to the next as they hang from the wall. He might strum 10 guitars, stop at one, strum it again, take it down, play it a few minutes, then put it up and say, “It’s good, but…” Every now and then, though, his eyes light up and he breaks into a light sweat on his face. That’s when one of us gets out the checkbook! We found my ’62 J-45 that way.
5) It’s clear and chimey, but not as powerful as the D-18,” Buzz says of this ’52 Gibson J-45. 6) Frank borrowed this ’57 Gibson J-185 from his dad when he was producing Brad Paisley’s first album (it can be hard playing the intro to and seen on the video for the title-track first single, “Who Need Pictures”). “It’s a great studio guitar – very bright and balanced,” Rogers said. 7) This ’64 Gibson Johnny Smith, “…has comfortable body and neck, and floating pickups. It’s a great jazz guitar,” says Buzz. 8) “If you want a Gretsch sound, it’s great for it,” Buzz says of this ’59 6120 with a zero fret, thick body, and Filter’Tron pickups. Photos: Benton Henry.
Buzz, when did you start to collect guitars?
BUZZ ROGERS: When Frank got to Nashville about 25 years ago. At that point, I had more time to play and I was following his career, which sucked me into the vortex of great old guitars (laughs)!
Did you have a wish list, or what was your approach?
BUZZ ROGERS: Actually, yes, I had a list of guitars that interested me. It was driven by different kinds of music I like so I would research and find an instrument that I thought best represented that style. I’d talk to knowledgeable people and read voraciously.
When Frank was at Belmont University, he and I started going to the Arlington Guitar Show every year with producer Mark Bright and Henry Gross (VG, August ’12). I was looking for a jumbo Gibson, and Mark told me that most Nashville studio guitarists preferred the J-185 because the maple back and sides give it a balanced, bright tone. On the second trip, I found a beauty and Henry freaked over its tone. So it came home with me. Henry also helped me find a good Rickenbacker 12-string. In the end, for me it’s about appreciating the tone of the old ones and enjoying them for their sound. Each one I have is special in its own way.
Frank photo: Rusty Russell.
What other advice have you gathered from Frank’s professional acquaintances?
BUZZ ROGERS: Bill Chapman, who at the time worked on guitars for Hootie and the Blowfish, is a Gretsch expert, and he told me the best was a ’59 6120 and what to watch for in a really good one. I’m also good friends with Wayne Henderson, and I learned a lot about Martins from him.
My M.O. has always been patience, research, and being around someone who could validate my opinion of a guitar’s tone and playability. I also rely on Joe Glaser for structural examination and opinion. I’ve made a few errors along the way, but for the most part I’ve navigated it fairly well. I want it as original as I can get, but it has to sound great and be playable. I believe that if you buy good-sounding guitars, beyond enjoying a fun hobby, the value of your pieces will go up, rather than down, over time.
9) Buzz calls this ’39 Martin D-18 “the most versatile acoustic I have,” citing its balanced, warm sound and the feel of its neck. 10 & 11) This ’66 Epiphone Casino and ’67 Rickenbacker 360/12 represent the influence of the Beatles and George Harrison on Buzz Rogers’ affinity for music. Photos: Benton Henry.
Frank, what makes for a good guitar for you?
FRANK ROGERS: When writing songs, I look for a guitar that doesn’t make me think too much about trying to play something. It needs to be an extension of what I’m trying to express.
In the studio, certain guitars sound great no matter what you’re doing, while others fit little sonic “spots.” For years, I didn’t get what people saw in a Gibson SG – lots of people love them and they’re cool, but it just didn’t have enough uses to make me want one… until I was doing a band that had a second electric guitar, and it was the exact sonic complement to the Les Paul on the other side. They all have their purposes in the recording world.
Your dad talks about being less concerned with the condition of a guitar. Given that your guitars are tools, can we assume something like a neck repair doesn’t matter to you as long as it sounds and plays right?
FRANK ROGERS: Doesn’t matter at all!
Are you the same way with amps?
FRANK ROGERS: Yes, if it sounds great, great! If it doesn’t, let’s figure out why or get another amp or guitar. Let’s search until we find the sound we’re looking for. I have an old AC30 head and I couldn’t tell you what tubes are in it. I couldn’t even tell you what year it is. I only know that when I plug a Tele into it, it sounds great – a Strat doesn’t sound as good.
(LEFT) Buzz Rogers loves the big humbucker sound of his ’62 Gibson ES-335. Photos: Benton Henry.
Speaking of, is there an artist who, when you first worked with them, had some less-than-stellar guitar tones?
FRANK ROGERS: Oh, absolutely – most of ’em (laughs)! Through the demo process and the first three or four records of Brad Paisley’s career, I wouldn’t let him use his own acoustic guitar – and to his credit, he didn’t want to! I gave him s**t about it all the time (laughs); “How are you gonna be a guitar hero playing a Takamine?” At the time, I had a good old [Gibson] J-45, a Kent Everett guitar, an old Martin, and my dad would let us borrow some of his. Brad has come a long way and now has some great acoustics. But we spent a lot of hours chasing tones. Most of the people I’ve worked with had to learn about tone. I’ve seen a lot of studio players in Nashville whose tone has improved dramatically through the years.
Brad Paisley talks about scoring his trademark ’68 Telecaster at the Arlington show. You and he used to go to that show with your dad, right?
FRANK ROGERS: Yes, for years we went together, and we’ve picked up several guitars and amps there. That’s where we met Kent Everett – one of those times when you’re walking down aisles, strumming guitars, and all of a sudden it’s like, “What’s this?” It blew my mind how great his guitars were. I got my J-45 at Arlington, and an old Tele I use as high-strung guitar.
BUZZ ROGERS: I used to give Brad a hard time about the Tele he had at Belmont! It had a clear pickguard with paisley paper under it! I kept telling him to get an original.
Buzz, when Frank was a teenager, you recognized he had penchant for songwriting…
BUZZ ROGERS: Yeah, he definitely had a gift for writing songs, and of course I wanted to encourage it. When he was in high school, I booked some time for him at a local studio to record some of his songs. Right away, the owner noticed that he had an easiness about himself in that environment. Several years later, he had been accepted to the College of Charleston, where he was planning to major in business and minor in music. In fact, we had paid a deposit on tuition…
But then there was a Butterfly Effect moment…
BUZZ ROGERS: Yeah, we went to the music store in Charlotte in early July to get him an electronic keyboard as a graduation gift, and we walked in just as the salesman was about to go to lunch. Well, he stayed to help us, and while doing so, we started talking. Turns out the guy had attended Belmont, and by the end of the discussion, the seed was planted. Five weeks later, Frank was on campus. We’ve talked a lot over the years about what would have happened if we’d so much as missed a stop light on the two-hour drive that day and ended up talking to with someone else at the store. Frank wrote a line in the chorus of the Darius Rucker song, “This,” which was a number one hit, that talks about missing a stop light. His life – and country music – wouldn’t be the same if we had that day.
Most parents don’t like pushing their children to a career in music, but I thought he had something special. He had the gift, he applied himself to get the education, he has the work ethic, and he caught a few breaks.
Frank, do you recall feeling at ease in that recording studio the first time?
FRANK ROGERS: Yeah, it seemed natural. And when I moved to Nashville, I loved being in a studio. Whatever I could do to be there, I would do it – whether they needed an engineer, a bass player, guitar player, background singer. The first time I ever sat at a B-3 organ happened when someone in the studio said, “Hey, do you play B-3?” I said, “Heck, yeah” and while they were getting sound on it, I pulled the draw bars, wondering to myself, “What do these do?” I totally faked it just to get in the studio because I loved the process. And no matter what my task was, by the end of the session, it seemed that I ended up kind of running it. I thought, “There’s a name for that… I’m a producer!” Even back in high school, I was never the greatest player, but I was the one arranging songs, picking out parts, and doing the set list. I got asked to play in a band because I knew a handful of chords – which was a lot for my hometown – but I remember taking two cassette recorders, playing a guitar part into one, playing it back, then playing a track into the other one while listening to the first track. I was always recording just to see what I could do.
You mentioned that certain songs caught your attention more than any certain players. Was that influence apparent in the way you learned to play guitar?
FRANK ROGERS: Yeah, as soon as picked it up, I remember hitting the E string, open first, then pressing down the first fret to make an F, pressing down on the third fret to make a G. Right away, I started writing a three-note song – literally the first time I picked up an electric guitar, I wrote a song. I wanted to create. I never really got excited about learning other people’s stuff.
Being a child of the ’80s, do you see yourself having played a role in country music becoming what some critics and music writers refer to as “Def Leppard Lite.”
FRANK ROGERS: I don’t think of myself as that important (laughs)! But I guess there are some records I’ve done that have probably influenced the scene one way or the other. More of my hits have probably swung the pendulum back to traditional rather than taking it toward Def Leppard. When Brad first came out, he was very much on the traditional side. Josh Turner, certainly – “Long Black Train” was not like anything else on the radio at the time. But, some of the Darius Rucker stuff is a little more pop, and I’ve done some Trace Adkins stuff that’s more rock, really. And “Whiskey Lullaby,” by Brad and Allison Krause, I’m sure influenced a few people who thought, “Oh, we can get away with a hardcore drinking ballad?”
Really, though, country music has become just “American” music – it’s not necessarily all country. There’s country music on country radio, there’s rock music on country radio, there’s folk music on country radio, there’s pop music. In a way, country has become the “pop” format – you hear Les Pauls and Marshalls and wah pedals and all that, but you also have drum loops and steel guitars and banjos, so it really is wide open, which I think is good.
I do know that influencing future records is never the goal. I record something that I would want to go buy. If I do something I hate, that’s not good for anybody (laughs)!
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.
