Tag: features

With his new album, BK3, Bruce Kulick brings out the big guns on what he calls his “…strongest solo disc ever.” Collaborating with friends old and new, he infused their personalities to create an album diverse in style and tones. He also raised the bar on his own musicianship. Kulick recently took us behind the scenes of his latest endeavor, explaining how BK3 came together with a mix of guests and a massive assortment of gear. He also brought out a selection of his personal treasures to ogle, including his beloved ’53 Gibson Les Paul – a converted goldtop that originally belonged to his brother, guitarist/producer Bob Kulick.

There’s an incredible variety of styles on this album. Did you write the material over an extended period of time?

Yes, but there would have been a variety of styles, no matter. I started writing after I got shot in October of 2003. A guy who had too much to drink was picking a fight with the bouncer at the Rainbow (night club). He decided to get a gun from his friend’s car and started shooting wildly on the street. One of the bullets ricocheted and went through the fleshy part of my right leg and another one nicked me right above my sideburn. So I was one inch from either being crippled or dead. They rushed me to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, then sent me home. By then, there were reports on CNN saying “…former Kiss guitar player shot in Los Angeles.” Then the phone was ringing non-stop. Believe it or not, with a bullet wound that goes straight through your leg, it heals from the inside out. You keep it clean, but there are no stitches or surgery! The L.A. police kept my leather pants as evidence, and I never got them back. But they were great, and did put the guy away.

Ironically, the first song I wrote for this record was “I’ll Survive.” The lyrics are about that night; I was very fortunate – blessed – that day. I pretty much started writing from that point on. I wanted to collaborate with [producer] Jeremy Rubolino, who I knew from the early Kiss days, because he’s related to Bob Ezrin. I knew he was talented, and I wanted to see what it would be like to write with him.

And how did it go?

Really well. We wrote a lot of material by the end of 2003 and continued through ’06. In some ways, the music was a little more pop than how the record turned out, I think because once I asked Gene Simmons to be on it, it snowballed into a “featured guest” kind of vibe that worked well. It’s definitely more than just one side of what I can do. And though I can carry a tune, my voice is not my strongest asset. But I did my best singing on this album.

 

How did you choose guests?

I’d worked with John Corabi in Union, and we work well together. Nick Simmons is Gene’s son, and I’ve known him all his life. I met Doug Fieger, from The Knack, at the Rock ’N Roll Fantasy Camp. Steve Lukather and I have a lot of mutual friends, and I’ve jammed with him before. He came into the project when I decided to include an instrumental track. He did a great job – I’m so proud of that instrumental. I’d worked with Eric Singer in Kiss, and he turned me on to Tobias Sammett, who has a tremendous voice – perfect for “I’m The Animal.” He’s in a couple of very popular groups in Europe.

The guests kind of pushed away some of the early material Jeremy and I wrote. I have four songs recorded with full drums, bass, guitars, and a reference vocal, but they’re unfinished because I thought the formula had to change once Gene, Nick, and John were onboard. They definitely helped set the tone of the album.

Were the guests involved in writing?

All except Doug, who loved what we had with “Dirty Girl,” which is a power pop song. And he really nailed it. Nick wrote the lyrics and some of the melody of his track, “Hand Of The King.” He’s very popular because of the “Family Jewels” TV show and he’s such an interesting guy. He’s brilliant like his father, but he’s also the anti-Gene – so unaffected. He knows everything about all Kiss songs and albums, and he made references to me on Carnival Of Souls, which is really cool because that’s not a “big” Kiss album. He didn’t have a lot of experience in the studio and I think Gene knew he would get some good experience being part of this. He did a great job.

Like I said, I work well with Corabi, and it was Jeremy’s dream to work with him because he loved the last Union album, The Blue Room. John came in with great ideas, and I think it’s one of his best vocal tracks. The song is very strong. Jeremy played acoustic guitar on that one, and some bass, too. He really wanted to play bass on Gene’s song and even borrowed one of his Axe basses, which was funny.

Gene was a pleasure. We had some of the lyrics before we got into the studio, and we had the arrangements. He brought in the film crew from “Family Jewels,” and they set it up as something about Nick, and he did fool around in the vocal booth that day, but we were cutting Gene’s song. Nick’s was done later… but that’s the way reality TV works.

Brent Fitz played drums on almost every song except the instrumental, which was Kenny Aronoff. Eric Singer played on the song that Tobias sang because he introduced us, so that made sense. That track has real strings, which have a texture you can’t reproduce. We also have strings on the last song, “Life,” which was my George Harrison kind of thing.

I have to talk about Lukather, who is a true guitar hero. I can hold my own in the realm of what I do, but this guy pulls out unbelievable stuff – he can play anything! And he’s one of the most humble guys. He came in, didn’t really know the song, and Jeremy and I weren’t sure what we wanted; we had already recorded the theme and the choruses. So the verses and bridge are him, and a little of me. The solo with the modulation is completely him – anything with a wah or whammy bar is him. I played all the Les Paul-type parts that are more theme-oriented. It was really interesting because we just kept having him play and suggested ideas as we went along. He did this Jeff Beck-like thing where he’s making the guitar “talk” by picking close to the bridge. It’s great!

Luke came to the session with one of his signature Ernie Ball guitars, and it was tuned to concert pitch. But the song was in E flat. So I handed him one of my trusty red ESP Vintage Plus guitars, and he sounded like him even though he was playing my guitar through my Marshall 900-series head and all the gear I use.

I bring this up when I do clinics – your sound is in your hands, not so much in the gear. He was a little thrown by the fact that I have a block inside my Floyd, so it doesn’t pull upward; he’s used to having his float. But he got through it and he played great. Kenny Aronoff is kicking ass on that track, and I’ve got Jimmy Haslip, who’s a Grammy-winning bass player. We used to play together with Michael Bolton. Jimmy played my ’66 P-Bass; the engineer was this terrific guy who used to work with Paul McCartney, so I knew he was going to want Jimmy to play the P-Bass. Jimmy is left-handed, but plays bass strung right-handed.

What was the first track you recorded?

It was actually the last song we chose – “Fate.” It came from Kevin Churko, who worked with Ozzy Osbourne on Black Rain and is working on Ozzy’s new album. When he presents a track, he plays everything on it. But I had to make it my own, so Jeremy and I put our stamp on it. Lyrically, the track was supposed to be a little tongue-in-cheek with some Kiss titles, and it’s a cool opening track. I like the way it sets the pace – it says I mean business!

When did you start recording?

Serious recording started in January, 2007, but because of traveling, gigging, doing Grand Funk Railroad gigs, Fantasy Camp, producing other artists that would keep me busy in the studio for two weeks at a time, I just couldn’t get to finishing the record until last May. It was crazy, but I’m very happy with the way it turned out.

Describe your studio setup. Did you have one main rig, or were there various amps for lead, rhythm, and texture tones?

The go-to amps are Marshall heads. The early 100-watt Marshall 900 is my best-sounding head. I have a Marshall Dual Reverb that sounds great; it’s switchable between 100 and 50 watts, and sometimes sounds better at 50 watts. I always use 4x12s with Celestion Vintage 30 speakers, though I do have a 4×10 cab I used a little. If I don’t want a Marshall sound, I have a ’66 Fender Bassman head, sometimes with a little overdrive through the Marshall cabinet. I also have a 2×12 Rivera cabinet with Vintage 30s.

I love my Orange Tiny Terror head. It’s killer, and I used it for some things toward the end of the recording. I also got some sounds out of an Egnator Rebel 20, which is a nice little amp for different textures. Another secret weapon is a Vox AC30 reissue I used on Kiss’ Carnival Of Souls. It’s a great amp.

Anything you hear that’s really crunchy and big-sounding is a Marshall head – the solos were mostly done with Marshall heads. Texture guitars were done with the Vox, the Orange, or the Egnator. And I used the studio’s Soldano one time.

Let’s talk about the guitars that were used.

It was so much fun using so many different guitars! I did a lot of layering tones and textures, just as I had with the amps. I had some of my favorite ESPs, like the red ’90s Vintage Plus models with a humbucker, two single-coils and a Floyd Rose, and two more recent ESP Vintage Plus models. One is black with a Floyd and a humbucker, the other is white and has a standard three-single-coil setup. That one was used on the instrumental.

I had a lot of go-to guitars, like my ’53-conversion Les Paul, which was originally a goldtop with P-90s, but Tom Murphy painted it for me in ’91 or ’92, and he did a beautiful job – really brought out its mojo. It’s a nitro finish [with] a gorgeous sunburst. Even though the split of the maple top is very off-center, the grain is gorgeous. That guitar has a lot of “Kisstory.” My brother bought it in ’74 or ’75 and it had one double-white PAF at the time. I got it from him in the early ’80s and found another PAF for the neck position. The knobs are original, and I found nickel ’50s parts for it. I didn’t care if the tuners weren’t original. My brother used that guitar on Paul Stanley’s solo record in ’78 and probably on the Alive II studio tracks. I used it on “Forever,” “God Gave Rock ’N Roll To You,” and everything on the Union records. I used it a lot on Kiss’ Revenge.

Otherwise, I used quite a few Gibsons. I have a beautiful special edition ’62 reissue SG that was done for Guitar Center with kidney tuners on it, and it has a really good sound. I also used some of my old SGs, like a ’65 Standard, for a few parts. I used a cherry ’61 ES-330 that’s awesome, and a ’65 ES-345 with the Varitone, and I mic’ed up a ’58 ES-175 for some rhythm parts. It originally had one PAF, but someone converted it to a double-pickup. It has one of my favorite necks.

I have a ’58 reissue Les Paul that sounds amazing, and a ’96 Custom Shop goldtop with P-90s that’s got a big neck and a great sound. We needed a 12-string thing, and Jeremy owns a Gibson EDS-1275, so I begrudgingly used that on a few tracks. So if you hear a 12-string, it’s probably that. It’s a great guitar, but tuning it is like root canal surgery! I used a Cherry Red Gibson Les Paul Special reissue I found at Norman’s Rare Guitars for one of the parts on “Life.” It’s a really cool guitar. For some parts on “Fate,” I pulled out an ’83 Custom Shop Explorer I also used on Revenge. It’s cream-finished korina. I also used a ’95 SG with great Angus Young tone. I love that guitar!

I also used several of my Paul Reed Smith guitars because they tune amazingly in the studio. One is a hollowbody, one is a CE 22. Five are McCartys, which I love. I used a Whale Blue McCarty for a part on “Fate.” I also got a Singlecut 245 I played on Gene’s song, “Ain’t Gonna Die.” For the first solo, I played a Peavey Wolfgang that sounds great! I leave it in Las Vegas and use it with a band I jam with there. I love the neck. Another guitar was an Ibanez Paul Stanley PS-10 I bought years ago. It screamed on Nick’s song, “Hand of the King.”

I used a koa B.C. Rich Mockingbird from the early ’80s for some parts on “Fate.” You can get interesting tones out of it. There’s an Eagle Supreme I used a bit, and had used on Carnival Of Souls.

I used a few Fender guitars, too. I don’t have any vintage Teles, but I have a butterscotch reissue that sounds great. I found a Japanese Fender Strat from ’92 or ’93 with a rosewood fingerboard and two-tone sunburst. I wound up playing some of the leads on “I’ll Survive” with that one.

The two main acoustics were a 1970 Martin D-18 and an ’05 Gibson Dove, all-maple, so it’s really loud.

You mentioned the ’66 P-Bass and the Gene Axe bass. Were there others?

There was a ’71 Jazz Bass, and I borrowed a ’65 Hofner bass to play on “I’ll Survive.” And I bought a ’66 right after that. It was so cool I wanted my own. Nothing sounds like those – they’re very deep and big. I get why Paul McCartney recorded with one.

How did you decide which to use, track-by-track?

Generally, I use whatever works. I have more than 100 guitars, but I can’t bring all of them with me everywhere. So I’ll borrow a guitar in a studio if someone has something that will work. But again, I do have certain go-to guitars.

Which pedals did you use?

For overdrive, I’m still a big fan of the Boss SD-1. I usually go with the older Japanese version. Jeff Rubin, who I met while waiting on line in the post office, has a company called GeekMacDaddy. Vintage Guitar reviewed his British Ball Breaker pedal, which I really like. I’m not sure if I used that one on my record, but he makes a few strange overdrive pedals I used in the last year of recording – Geek Screamer and Geek Ranger. Before that, I went for all my standard pedals, like the Boss SD-1 and CE-2 chorus. I have a couple of vintage wahs, too. Jeff modded one of my Dunlop Hendrix wahs and I was very happy with the way it turned out. I also used a FoxRox Captain Coconut for the Uni-Vibe effect. Those are cool. It also has fuzz and octave effects in it, though I just used the Uni-Vibe effect. I also have a Maxon analog delay. I used a BBE Mind Bender chorus/vibrato pedal on “Fate.” I really like that pedal. I used an MXR Distortion Plus for a nasty tone on ”Hand Of The King.” The solo on that one has the PS-10 Paul Stanley guitar with a vintage wah and the MXR Distortion Plus.

Most of the bass tracks were recorded through a Tech 21 SansAmp PSA-1. If we were in a studio that had a big bass amp, we might plug into an amp. But the PSA-1 was what we used most of the time.

Do you prefer tracking guitar parts in the control room, or in the same room as your amp?

I do my guitar tracks in the control room. I’m never in the same room as the amp, because it’s too loud. When I want feedback, I’ll go in, but I want to be able to communicate with the engineer and Jeremy, and I can hear things exactly how I want them better when I’m in the control room. We make it loud, and it sounds like there’s a band in front of you. That inspires me more.

How are your guitars typically set up? Do you set up guitars based on what each is used for?

I usually use S.I.T. .010-.046 gauge strings. Some guitars behave better tuned down a half-step; the only two tunings on my record are standard and down a half-step. I didn’t fool with open tunings. “Fate” is standard tuning with dropped D, and so is “No Friend Of Mine,” the song with Corabi. Gene’s and Nick’s songs are a half-step down, as are most of the songs where I use a Floyd Rose. Les Pauls can be tuned to anything, and the PRS guitars also behave in any key.

You have to use guitars that behave in the studio, because time is money. If they don’t play well at home, don’t take them to the studio.

I used .012s on the Martin and the Gibson Dove. The Gibson LG-1 probably has a custom set of .011s because I use that guitar for riffs.

What type of picks do you prefer?

They’re .73-mm gray nylon Dunlops with the grip. They’re kind of like the old Hercos. I don’t use anything else for guitar. For bass, I may use something a little heavier, or play with my fingers.

Talk about the vintage guitars you cherish most in your collection.

Well, there’s no question the ’53 Les Paul is very important. But I have a gorgeous 1960 ES-355 Stereo Varitone I used in a Kiss video, and on Revenge a little bit. It’s the only semi-hollow I owned for a very long time. Five or six years ago, when prices were going crazy, I read how much fun ES models were, so I found a ’65 ES-345 at Guitar Center in Hollywood – the one I mentioned recording with. Then I found its “sister” – a 335 with a Stereo Varitone that was virtually unplayed. Granted, ’65s aren’t as desirable as anything earlier because they had the trapeze tailpiece, I didn’t want to buy a guitar with issues or needing parts replaced. I didn’t have $20,000 to spend on a guitar, so I didn’t get one with a stop tail. But I found some that are cool collectibles and superb instruments. One is Ice Tea sunburst, the other is standard sunburst. I showed Norm (Harris) the ES-335 with the Stereo Varitone and he was impressed because it was in pristine condition and an unusual custom order. Then I got a ’61 ES-330 and later traded it for a mint ’63 330 in sunburst with nickel parts. I love those guitars. In 1990, I grabbed a wheat-color ’58 Les Paul Special that’s very clean with a fantastic neck and beautiful Brazilian-rosewood fingerboard.

I’ve always been a fan of Les Paul Juniors and have a pretty interesting ’56; it’s on the heavy side and has a two-piece body.

I have two ’83 Gibson Heritage Flying Vs that are really sweet – natural korina and ivory. I also have a black ’83 Moderne, which I took on tour with Kiss in the early ’90s.

I have a really cool  SG Junior I think is a ’64. I’ve been a fan of SG Specials since I grew up learning on one that I sold to a friend who brought it to a Kiss expo not long ago. I still can’t believe I sold that guitar. But I bought another one with all the right parts. The first had a Tune-O-Matic bridge and stop tailpiece I put on it. I used that guitar with my first band in ’74. I also still have the yellow ESP I played on Crazy Nights.

What about basses?

I have a really cool ’67 Gibson EB-3 I used on Carnival Of Souls, a beautiful ’65 Fender Jazz Bass I got from Norm with a really light rosewood fingerboard, and a really nice ’68 Olympic White P-Bass, but it’s yellowed and has a tortoise pickguard.

You’ve got some other notable B.C. Rich guitars, too…

Yes… a koa and regular standard Supreme Mockingbirds. One really unusual B.C. Rich I used with Union and maybe on my record a tiny bit is a white conversion model that’s kind of between the Eagle and Seagull. I think they called it a Seagull II and it’s probably from the late ’70s; it has diamond inlays and a big R on the headstock..

Of all your guitars, which is the most important for studio work?

The ’53 Les Paul.

Which are used most often onstage?

That would vary. A problem with stage guitars is that if I’m going to be up there for an hour and a half and I can only use one guitar, I prefer it to be under eight pounds. Unfortunately, that cuts out a lot of guitars. When I want only one, I have a really cool ESP Snapper with a humbucker and two single-coils. They don’t sell it in America, but it’s got a maple top and can do a lot of things. Sometimes, that’s a go-to guitar.

Other times, I take a PRS because I like a Les Paul sound but I don’t want to bring a Les Paul, and the McCarty has the coil-split switch.

I did get a very interesting Les Paul this year; it’s chambered and they didn’t put the finish on the top, but it’s tiger-striped, has two DiMarzios, only weighs about 7¹/4 pounds, and sounds very good live.

I have some other great ESPs and Les Pauls, but some are heavy.

Are there any instruments you’d like to add to your collection?

I would really like to get a Martin 000 – an 18 or 28. I’d prefer an older one, but it doesn’t have to be from the ’40s… something from the ’70s. And I’ve always dreamt of getting a Gibson J-200, even though I hate the jumbo body. But they’re beautiful guitars. I’d love a ’50s, but I’m not ready to spend that much. I always loved Hummingbirds, too.

What’s happening with Grand Funk Railroad?

This is my ninth year touring with them. The band is terrific and we take whatever crowd we have, whether it’s a sit-down casino crowd, a big fair crowd, or a classic-rock crowd, and we always bring them to their feet. People love it. And I love it! It’s a great gig!

Grand Funk plays mostly in the spring, summer, and fall. Things wind down by October. Now that we’re on a break, I’m really looking forward to promoting BK3.

What about other projects?

I’ll also be involved with Fantasy Camp, and I’m always looking for artists and projects to produce and co-write. I plan on making a couple of Kiss expo appearances, and I’ll probably get involved with some clinics, too, because I can do it as a one-man band in front of 200 people, and it’s an opportunity to expose people to the stuff on BK3.

I hope to collaborate with Corabi or maybe get involved with more stuff with Gene again.

I’ve got to admit, it’s always exciting. Just when I think there’s nothing going on, my phone rings or I’ll get an e-mail. I’m very fortunate that way. And people know if they’re going to get me involved with something, I’m going to do the best I can.

What is the possibility of Union being resurrected, or you and John working together in the future?

It’s really hard for us to go out and do something, but I would. John and I work together in a band called ESP – Eric Singer Project. We’re a glorified cover band, but there’s magic when Eric and I play together, and then there’s that energy from Union with John added. It’s a great combination. Chuck Garric from Alice Cooper’s band has been our bass player for the last three years. He’s a great guy, and loves doing different kinds of material; we’ll cover a Motörhead song just for him. For the Kiss fans, he can cover Gene’s stuff. We’ve put out a live CD from Japan and live DVD from Australia that are really good, and had a successful run of 13 shows last February. But we can only tour when schedules permit. It’s hard to coordinate, but I’d like to do more with them. I certainly want to be involved with any projects my friends would like to do.

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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.

In a career spanning 45 years, Charlie Musselwhite has taken the blues to places it’s never been – literally (playing every corner of the globe) and artistically (on his two dozen solo albums and backing such diverse artists as Tom Waits, INXS, Doc Watson, Bonnie Raitt, Eliades Ochoa, Eddie Vedder, the Blind Boys Of Alabama, the Kodo drummers of Japan, and Cyndi Lauper – in addition to blues greats like John Lee Hooker, Big Joe Williams, John Hammond, and Jimmy Witherspoon).

One of the greatest blues-harmonica players in the history of the genre, he has occasionally shown his six-string talents on stage and on record – as with his latest CD, The Well (Alligator). His first all-originals album, it’s also his most personal – dealing with his years of alcoholism (“Dig The Pain”), his subsequent recovery (the title track, inspired by the rescue of Baby Jessica), and the 2005 murder of his mother (“Sad And Beautiful World,” featuring Mavis Staples).

Growing up in Memphis, Musselwhite got his first guitar – an f-hole Supertone acoustic – as a hand-me-down from his father, who played country music non-professionally. “I was 13, and I just wanted to play blues,” he recounts. “I remember the first time I made an E chord and then put my little finger down to make that E7 – it was like, ‘Yeah, that’s it!’”

Instead of the typical garage-band apprenticeship, Musselwhite and author/record producer George Mitchell scoured the Delta in Charlie’s 1950 Lincoln, looking for blues players. “George, who was my age, knew more about the history than I did. That’s how I met Fiddlin’ Joe Martin, who knew Will Shade.”

Still a teenager, Musselwhite befriended bluesmen 50 years his senior, like Shade (from the Memphis Jug Band) and Furry Lewis. But this was not some student/teacher, academic relationship. “I wanted to learn guitar, but I also enjoyed their friendship,” says Musselwhite. “Sometimes we’d just sit around and listen to the ballgame on the radio. I wasn’t plying them with questions or ‘show me this, show me that.’ I actually wish I had asked more questions like, ‘Who did you learn from?’ But I just took it as it came. They were funny, and I could drink with them, and I was interested in the girls who hung around there. I eventually became really good friends with Furry. Sometimes I’d end up spending the night at his place if I got too tipsy.”

Moving to Chicago after high school, Musselwhite’s harp playing soon reflected his urban surroundings, but his guitar playing remained rooted in country blues – vividly illustrated on 2003’s Darkest Hour (Henrietta Records). “Will Shade, Furry Lewis, and also Memphis Willie B. – Willie Borum – formed the foundation of everything I still play today,” he explains. “When I got to Chicago, there were tons of guitar players and not many harmonica players. I started getting jobs on harmonica, so I focused on that, and my guitar playing just sort of leveled off where I was at when I left Memphis.”

Two guitar influences in Chicago were John Lee Granderson and Big Joe Williams, whose backup band was sometimes “Little Mike and Memphis Charlie” – a.k.a. Michael Bloomfield (in this case, on piano) and Musselwhite. “For a short time, Joe and I lived in the basement of the Jazz Record Mart and then behind Bill Chavers’ Old Wells Record Shop. John was really an amazing guitar player, though it’s not evident from anything he left on record. He was a real interesting guy, and wanted to show me stuff on guitar. He also tried to show me how to play in the key of H,” he laughs. “He went into a lengthy explanation of why it couldn’t be any key but H.”

In recent years, Musselwhite’s main guitar was a Gibson Nighthawk (“has a great tone for blues”), before he found his ultimate six-string. “I remember Luther Tucker talking about playing a ‘Strat’ with Little Walter – meaning a Harmony Stratotone, not a Fender Stratocaster,” he details. “John Hammond got a reissue and so did Tom Waits. What I liked about it was that fat neck. I felt like I could really dig into it, and it just seemed so perfect for blues – the way it felt and sounded. Smokey Hormel and Marc Ribot both had old ones, and Marc said, ‘You know, it’s really the only guitar worth having.’ Coincidentally, a few days later, Blewett Thomas, an old friend who was friends with Big Joe Williams, told me there was one [for sale] cheap. So I snapped it up.”

He plugs the guitar straight into his amp of choice. “I like the red-knob Fender called The Twin. Most people hate that amp. I don’t know why they go on about how it has such a terrible tone. It’s got a killer tone. It’s heavy – it’s a bear to carry around – but it’s got tone to spare.”

The guitarists Musselwhite has employed on bandstands and in the studio – from Tucker and Bloomfield to Louis Myers, Robben Ford, Fenton Robinson, Freddie Roulette, Junior Watson, Charlie Sexton, Ben Harper, and (on The Well) Dave Gonzalez – are as varied as they are impressive. But Musselwhite always lets them be themselves, as long as they bring taste and excitement and are playing from the heart. “Gonzalez is a great example,” he offers. “Whatever he plays – and he can play just about any style – it’s with consummate taste. Never overplays; it’s never ‘Look at what I’m doing’ – or how fast or clever he is. Instead of showing off your technique, you use technique to support the music. Some people forget about the music, and it’s all about technique. I’ve got no use for that.”

Just as he has nurtured a new generation of blues players, like Kid Andersen and Matt Stubbs, the Blues Hall Of Fame inductee is a direct link to music going back a century. “I just know that when Will Shade was a kid on Beale Street, an old man taught him guitar. The first tune Will learned from that man was the first tune he taught me. So that’s a link. I also soaked up his harp playing, and so did Walter Horton. Then in Chicago, I was soaking up more from Walter – and we’d had the same teacher.”

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This article originally appeared in VG December 2010 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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All but forgotten today, with his low-slung guitar, stylish rhythm licks, and tasty leads, Lowman Pauling was one of the great guitar heroes of the ’50s. Guitarist for the R&B doo-wop band the 5 Royales, not only did Pauling pick melody lines and play leads, he also composed many of the band’s songs, sang in the five-piece group, and served as a sort of musical director.

Pauling was one of Steve Cropper’s first guitar inspirations. “Bo Diddley had the rhythm and Lowman Pauling had the notes,” he said.

Cropper is paying credit to Pauling and the band with Dedicated: A Salute to the 5 Royales, a new album with 15 5 Royales songs re-made with Cropper’s funky licks and vocals from special guests.

Cropper remembers the night he and bandmate Donald “Duck” Dunn snuck into a 5 Royales show in the Beverly Ballroom near Memphis. Their band played downstairs at the Tropicana, but when a big act came to town, the club closed as the promoters knew everyone would be climbing the stairs for the main feature.

“Duck and I were 18 or 19, and we’ve reminisced many times remembering that night and seeing those guys. He was influenced by the bass player and I was influenced by the guitar player.”

They carried that inspiration with them into the Mar-Keys, and Booker T and the MGs.

“Lowman Pauling looked great onstage,” Cropper explained. “He was the action guy. He had the moves, man. He could do that shuffle. He had this long strap that just blew me away – I’d never seen that before, you know. Straps only came in certain lengths – they still do. I couldn’t wait to get home and put belts together to make my own long strap for my Gibson Byrdland.”

Cropper and Dunn later crossed paths with Pauling. In fact, the CD’s cover picture was taken at the Royal Peacock Lounge in Atlanta, with Cropper wearing his Byrdland slung low in emulation of Pauling.

“The Mar-Keys had a record, ‘Last Night,’ which I think was number three in the nation, and I didn’t know the 5 Royales had played the Royal Peacock Lounge two or three weeks prior; our tour followed the 5 Royales and Ike and Tina Turner for about four weeks. I don’t know how we made it!”

Cropper borrowed more from Pauling than just strap length; his melodic style was one of Cropper’s main inspirations. “In the Mar-Keys, we always played the 5 Royales’ ‘Think.’ That’s the one, as far as those stamp fills… I copped that from Lowman, and I’ve been using them forever on all the Stax stuff.”

The idea of giving thanks to Pauling came from the album’s co-producer, John Tiven. After releasing three solo albums from 1969 through the early ’80s, Cropper he was in no rush to try again. “John called one day and said, ‘How would you enjoy doing an album with nothing but 5 Royales songs, as a tribute?’ I went, ‘Wow! Why didn’t I think of that!’”

The duo listened to the 5 Royales’ catalog and selected songs. Cropper then was faced with the question of how faithful he should be to the originals.

“I called John and said, ‘You know, it’s not impossible to copy Lowman’s licks, but how close do you want me to be to this?’ He said, ‘I don’t want you to be that close at all. I want you to play Steve Cropper.’

“Lowman always played very melodically,” Cropper added. “So where he played definite lines, those are the lines I picked up on, like intros and that kind of stuff. The rest of it, I’m sort of just on my own. I did most of those important licks on a session, played rhythm, then went back later and overdubbed the solo stuff. So there’s a couple there where we have two or three tracks and left them in there – made one pass, made another pass. We just kind of put them together and said, ‘Hey, that sounds pretty good!’”

Cropper was happy to play guitar, but preferred not doing vocals – especially on an album of doo-wop tunes. “I proved to myself long ago that I’m not really a singer – I never thought I was one anyway. If I had my preferences, I’ll just be a member of the band and have fun doing that; I love backing other people.”

So Cropper and Tiven began calling friends; Sharon Jones added vocals to “Messin’ Up,” Brain May sang and played guitar on “I Do,” Lucinda Williams sang “When I Get Like This,” and there are more tracks featuring B.B. King, Steve Winwood, Buddy Miller, Delbert McClinton, Bettye LaVette, and others.

Cropper played much of the rhythm parts using a vintage Fender Telecaster from his Stax days. He still has the tweed Fender Harvard he used to record “Green Onions,” but opted for the old Quad Reverb used on many later Stax tracks.

For the lead lines, he used his stage workhorse Peavey. Some solos employed the Quad Reverb, and “…some were done at John Tiven’s house and we went direct.”

What about effects pedals? “Naw, just straight into the amp,” Cropper said. In fact, he has never been a big user of effects. “I use an A/B box,” he laughed. “One side goes to the tuner, the other goes to the amp.”

Perhaps the hottest track on the album is an instrumental version of “Think.” Cropper had long played the 5 Royales’ version with the Mar-Keys, but for Dedicated, Tiven suggested they cover the funkier James Brown arrangement. On the track, the band simply cooks. “Steve Jordan was there playing drums, and Lord have mercy, we didn’t ever want to stop playing it!” Cropper explained. “We got through, and he and I were laughing. I said, ‘Guys, that’s the way you make records!’ Just spontaneous.”

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This article originally appeared in VG October 2011 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Talent for mysteries, passion for guitars, best-selling Novelist Jonathan Kellerman is a lifelong lover of the guitar. A player for 46 years, to him, the guitar is not only a device for release and inspiration, but a true passion.

“After I finish writing, the first place I head is the guitar room, for an hour or more of playing,” he said. “I play jazz, steel guitar, and recently, I’ve decided to go back to reading classical pieces.”

Before becoming a practicing psychologist and then novelist, Kellerman’s days as a student at U.C.L.A. were spent studying and hanging out in the offices of The Daily Bruin, where he would draw editorial cartoons and contribute other content. He was also a serious guitar player in a gigging band. After earning a Ph.D., he spent 15 years as a psychologist while publishing short stories, scientific articles, children’s books, and three volumes of psychology.

Today, the author of 24 consecutive best-selling thrillers, with some 70 million copies in print, is the caretaker of one of the finest guitar collections in the world. A highly discriminating collector, Kellerman admits that keeping all of his 100-plus instruments tuned up and playable requires a certain level of commitment. And he’s keenly aware of the how some collectors of his stature are viewed with disdain because of the perception that their instruments are stored out of the hands of people who could be using them to create music.

“I relate to that whole thing because I don’t like the idea of buying instruments and stashing them in closets,” he said. “Though it may sound strange, I’ve really tried not to buy so many that I can’t play them.”

Through the years, many notable players and instrument dealers, including Andy Summers, fingersylist Ed Gerhardt, Larry Wexer, Stan Jay, Tim Kummer, and the late Warren Zevon, have had the pleasure of viewing and playing parts of the Kellerman collection. We recently spoke with Kellerman to get the story on how his collection started, how it has grown, and how it may change in the future.

Vintage Guitar: How did you get started collecting guitars and other fretted instruments?
Jonathan Kellerman: Oddly enough, I never set out to collect, per se. I was always after great sound. In high school, I gigged with a wedding/bar-mitzvah band, but my equipment stank. So I scraped up some dough and I took the bus to Wallach’s Music City, on Sunset and Highland, and bought the best guitar I could afford – a ’61 double-cutaway Gibson Melody Maker, for $120. If I’d had 40 bucks more I could’ve bought a ’58 Les Paul flame-top!

When I began working as a psychologist, my income grew. But I was still far from affluent – I treated children at a pediatric hospital and worked as a med-school professor. My lunch hour was used to chase down guitars and, of course I followed the lists of the major dealers.

Over the years, I traded off less desirable items until I’d assembled mostly premium instruments. At some point I decided to concentrate on the creme de la creme. That’s when I traded away some very nice Gibson L-5s, Super 400s, and Epi archtops, and limited myself to D’Angelicos, D’Aquistos, Strombergs, etc. And I always bought for sound. Sometimes that meant sacrificing a bit in terms of condition… but not always. Back in those days, you could get instruments in fabulous condition that also sounded great.

I do tend to concentrate on specific areas for periods of time, for example, steel for a few months, then classical, then archtops, etc. For every great instrument I’ve acquired, I’ve turned down 50. I have no interest in amassing thousands of instruments that get neglected. Even with this many instruments, I start to feel guilty when one I haven’t attended to in awhile stares back at me reproachfully (laughs)!

How long had you been playing before you started collecting?
I stared playing in 1959. I began acquiring in the mid 1970s.

What criteria do you consider when purchasing an instrument for your collection?
To me, collecting guitars – or any object d’art for investment – feels vulgar. And it rarely works. Great collections are built through passion, lots of self-education, eye training, and plain old good taste.

Are you concerned with historical significance, cosmetics, and originality more than utility?
Historical significance is a factor, but the primary factor is sound. Since I own so many great guitars, I’ve also gotten extremely picky about condition, and would rather wait years for the right one.

Is monetary value or potential appreciation a consideration?
I don’t care if the guitars appreciate or not, though I’ve been astonished at how well high-end fretted instruments have performed vis a vis other so-called investments. And aesthetics are important. For example, in addition to loving the sound of premium archtops – visitors who think archtops have no sustain are amazed to play the great ones in my collection – I admire the artistry that goes into carving them.

I find a certain conceptual and artistic similarity between archtops and concert classicals. Both emphasize clarity – what the classical musicians term “note separation.” Both are great for solo playing and jazz, and require a tremendous degree of skill to create. Both are highly sophisticated, musically subtle, refined instruments. Which is not to detract from the great flat-tops, with their sweetness and sustain and adaptability to so many forms of music. The great ones are all wonderful!

You don’t have nearly as many electric soldbody guitars as acoustics, but those you have are great ones. What attracted you to them, and how do you view their position in your collection?
I purchased the electrics more than 20 years ago when I was still doing some combo work. Back then, the prices were low, so I could obtain nice ones at what seemed like a bargain – a ’55 Fender Telecaster for $1,200, mint ’64 Stratocaster for $1,300, ’58 ES-335TN for $1,900 and a Candy Apple Red ’64 Jazz Bass for $600. Despite my wife’s urgings – she’s really the smart one – I never went for a ’58 or ’59 Les Paul – I just kept watching prices climb… and climb.

But the fact that I concentrate on acoustics doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate electrics – they’re an artform, and one of the most important technological advances of the 20th century, at least to a guitarist. But I find myself gravitating toward the organic nature of acoustics.

I probably won’t buy any more electrics, because I’m unlikely to play them. When my son is home, he loves wailing on them.

Do you have any favorites amongst the steel guitars?
Weissenborns are, to my mind, the most consistently good marque. There are no bad ones – only good ones and great ones. They’re built on the brink of explosion – certainly not sophisticated instruments. But that’s part of the charm. Tons of sustain, sweetness, that ephemeral quality. I love playing steel late at night – the old mournful vibe.

The Knutsens are built even more flimsily than Weissenborns. In fact, some accuse Chris Knutsen of being a wood butcher, but the Knutsens I own sound amazing. What fascinates me about Chris was his individuality and eccentricity. He never built the same instrument twice – ever. I’ve seen backs made of finished mahogany taken from Victorian furniture, all kind of weird woods for tops, sides etc. The use of “found” materials, strange assortments of bass and treble drone strings on harp Hawaiians. But they sound great if you know how to get the sound out of them.

The earliest Weissenborns, with paper labels, are softer, but sometimes a bit more subtle than the later ones with larger bridge plates and chunkier bridges. I also own three roundneck Spanish Weissenborn guitars, all koa, and they’re great blues/fingerpicking instruments.

In some sense, Weissenborns – and to an even greater extent, Knutsens – are the antithesis of the finely constructed D’Aquistos, Martins, and Fletas that I cherish. But every bit as great.

I also own a couple of Kona-type guitars built by a Michigan violinmaker named Garrett Brink. Different, but terrific.

Do you have an interest in any other instruments?
Yes, I do have some fretted instruments built by violinmakers; I own a fabulous Wilkanowski Airway archtop that sounds midway between a D’Angelico and a Stromberg, and has a one-piece back of Po Valley Poplar (an esteemed cello wood.) Also, Ignacio Fleta – the Stradivarius of the classical guitar – began as a violinmaker. And it’s obvious when one studies the construction of his guitars. I own a ’68 with Brazilian back and sides, which is unusual because most Fletas are Indian rosewood.

How long has it taken to assemble your collection?
About 30 years.

Do you view it as reasonably complete, or as a work in progress?
Well, I’m running out of aesthetically pleasing display space, but a fabulous, high-end, historically interesting instrument with terrific sound can always get my attention. Let’s face it, it’s a disease (laughs)!

How do you view the organization of your collection?
I feel any collection should have focus and coherence. That’s what makes it a collection rather than a hodgepodge display of conspicuous consumption. My areas of concentration have been premium archtops, pre-war Brazilian rosweood Martins, especially 1945 models; pre-war Brazilian Gibson flat-tops, like a ’38 AJ and a ’40 SJ-200; concert classicals; and finally, steel guitars.

Your display is beautifully coordinated. How did you go about setting it up?
When I decided to display the collection, I contracted with the Peter Carlson Company. They’re experts at museum display, and the cases are set up so there’s adequate airflow, and temperature and humidity are controlled. The instruments never “close up.” And though most instruments can tolerate being suspended by the neck, we’ve added bottom support to minimize stress. The way we’ve got them displayed also creates the illusion of hanging in space. I chose a deep green background because it shows off the wood tones of the instruments. During a recent visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, I noticed that they chose a very similar background hue.

Peter Carlson’s brother, Rob, did the building. In addition to being an artisan, he’s a first-rate musician and built a wonderful Loar F-5 replica for himself. That made the project a labor of love for him. Rob and I did a bit of jamming, and our friendship has endured. Sometimes we play in a bluegrass band together, along with some real notables like Bob Applebaum.

You have numerous mandolins and related instruments, including one of every Gibson instrument designed and signed by Lloyd Loar. Do you play mandolin as much as guitar?
I noodle around, but I’m quite inept (chuckles). Once again, I never set out to assemble a quartet. I purchased a lovely Loar L-5 in 1981 and several years later, when I was publishing bestsellers, I decided to gift Faye with an F-5, triple-bound with gold-plated hardware. It’s dated 1924, but looks more like a ’23, and several experts have said it resembles other ’23s from the Monroe batch (Ed. Note: those with what is generally called “side binding” or binding turned so that instead of white/black/white from the top and a white from the side, you see white/black/white from the side and white from the top). It’s a gorgeous-sounding instrument and in mint condition, with a bit more of the classic sweetness and sustain than the barky bluegrass sound.

Right after I bought the F-5, I bought a gorgeous H-5. At that point, I started thinking quartet. The problem was the K-5. There aren’t too many out there. I put the word out and 10 years later, Tom Van Hoose called and said, “Jon, guess what I found?”

I love looking at the four of them hanging together, and when my son is in town, he and Faye and I play trios. The fascinating thing is that the Loar instruments seem voiced to each other. It’s almost like hearing a string quartet, or trio, as it were. These are masterpieces of luthiery and I believe they are, even at today’s prices, significantly underpriced.

I also own a very interesting 1922 F-4 with Cremona finish, truss rod, and Virzi, that clearly has Loar’s hand in it. It’s the best-sounding F-4 I’ve heard, and looks great with the Loar quartet.

Your wife, Faye, is also a player…
Faye trained on violin and flute, convinced herself she wasn’t good at either – though she was – and took up mandolin because it’s tuned like a violin. She studied with Bob Applebaum and also studied bass with Tim Emmons.

Do the two of your have much time to play together?
We play from time to time, but I’m more the daily player.

You have a number of instruments by modern master luthiers such as John Monteleone. What is the percentage of recent versus vintage instruments in your collection?
Actually, the only modern guitars I own are two by John – a 1998 Hexaphone and an archtop John calls the Radio City Malibu Sunset Triporte, made in 2001. I met John at the home of Michael Katz, the sadly departed collector, player, and all-round terrific person. Mike had the first – and only Hexaphone – John had built at that point in the ’70s, I believe – and my playing it brought about a bit of attitude adjustment. Every bit as good, and a lot more playable, than some of the finest vintage flat-tops. So I commissioned one, and it’s a great guitar; John’s workmanship is unmatched. A visiting luthier played it, and tears came to his eyes as he said, “I’m going to have to change how I build guitars.” Ed Gerhardt played it and said, “It doesn’t sound like it looks.” Meaning it’s a big jumbo thing, but it has a delicacy and subtlety to it. Extremely versatile guitar.

John’s archtop mastery means the Hex can be used for jazz, but I’ve played it in a bluegrass band and it worked there, too. The triporte archtop is magnificent and has that same combination of volume and refinement. John’s a master. The fact that I haven’t bought guitars by other contemporary luthiers doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate their work. I believe the level of craftmaship is higher than ever. I’ve just chosen to concentrate on vintage and there’s only so much time and space.

As you gained knowledge and experience, how did your focus change?
One gets more selective about condition. I’m really quite happy with what I have and thankful that I’ve been privileged to take care of these treasures. Of course, there’s tons of stuff I don’t own, but being exhaustive has never been my goal. Sometimes, I consider selling the duplicates. For example, I own two Weissenborn teardrops. Both are great, and probably from the same batch, but they sound different. They’re so rare that I kept them. I did resist the temptation to buy a third one.

Do you have long term goals for the collection?
Just to keep playing, listening, learning, serving as a good custodian for this utilitarian art, sharing the instruments with other guitar lovers. I’ll probably do a book on the collection, once I clear away a few fiction projects. My publishers have never done anything like that, but as long as I sell novels, they’re willing to indulge me.

Do you collect any instruments you do not play?
Just the mandolins, which Faye plays. I’m not putting anyone down, but I just don’t see the point of buying instruments and not playing them. Why not paintings or sculpture or rare coins? We have one purely decorative piece, an 1897 Vinaccia bowlback mandolin, near-mint, extremely ornate presentation model. After I bought it, a prominent classical mandolinist from Europe contacted me wanting to make sure I knew it should really be in a museum. I thought Faye might play it, but she didn’t like the sound, so it’s displayed in a light box.

How do you view your collection and your goals as a collector in contrast with others in the field?
I really don’t have much contact with other collectors. I know others, such as Scott Chinery, assembled marvelous pieces, but his goal seemed more exhaustive. I give him credit for raising consciousness about fine guitars and for his generosity lending instruments to fine players and commissioning instruments from gifted contemporary luthiers, like the Blue Guitars. I’m a quieter sort, more concerned with focus and achieving the best sound I can find.

How does your collection and music fit into your life and work?
The guitar has been a large part of my life since I learned to play in 1959, when I was nine years old. This was pre-Beatles, at the advent of rock and roll. I recall being fascinated by the sound of the guitar – in fact, all guitar sounds – classical, flamenco, rockabilly, steel. My mom wanted me to take up the violin, but I insisted on six strings and frets. My first guitar was a Gibson L-50 with a black finish that my uncle got for 50 bucks in a New York pawnshop. I still own it. Heavy-gauge Black Diamond strings and pudgy 9-year-old fingers made for some serious pain. I was taught the way you were taught anything – clarinet, piano, etc. Reading music, scales, long hours of practice. I even played in the music school’s orchestra. Fortunately, I could barely be heard.

Do you have any specific favorites?
If I had to select one instrument from each genre, I’d probably go with my 1967 Daniel Friederich classical – a famous guitar for which Friederich won gold and silver medals at the International Exposition in Belgium. It’s explosive, sweet, responsive, clear, almost freakishly full-toned.

My Monteleone archtop is great, as is an ’80s D’Aquisto Excel that is basically a one-instrument symphony. All of my pre-war Martin 45s are astonishing. The 1940 D-45 is much more balanced than a bluegrass herringbone.

Of the steels, one of my two Weissenborn teardrop guitars and a walnut-topped, extremely ornate Knutsen harp Hawaiian, reputed to be the last instrument Knutsen built. And, of course, the Loar quartet.

What types of music appeal most to you in your listening and playing?
I hate to use the term “eclectic” because it implies lack of focus. But I just love the sound of guitar played well in any genre; Doc Watson, Pepe Romero, Leo Kottke, Stevie Ray Vaughan. Several years ago, my son and I had the privilege to see Romerto, Kottke, Joe Pass, and Paco Pena togther in concert. Each played solos, then they switched to various duets, trios and quartets. It was transcendental! I felt the same way watching Eric Johnson, Joe Satriani, and Steve Vai on the first G3 tour.

I also love steel guitar, and when I turned 50 I wanted to see if I could learn to play. I was able to make music almost from the beginning, and assembled a couple dozen Weissenborns, Knutsens, Nationals, Dobros, and the like. Playing “Sleepwalk” is a kick.

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This article originally appeared in VG October 2005 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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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.”

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.

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!

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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.

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