Tag: features

  • Victoria Silver Sonic

    Victoria Silver Sonic

    Victoria Silver Sonic
    VG Approved Gear
    Price: $3,395
    Contact: victoriaamp.com

    For nearly 20 years, Victoria Amplifier Company has been making head-turning retro-styled amps. Mark Baier and his crew recently introduced the Silver Sonic, a lower-watt version of their popular Golden Melody amp that pulls together a host of features and circuit cues from the golden era of tweed amps.

    The Silver Sonic sports an elegant late-’40s/early-’50s vibe, with a masterfully executed black/tan Tolex over a finger-jointed pine cabinet (a black/sonic blue covering is also available). There’s a speckled silver/gray control panel with white chickenhead knobs, and a leather handle. The cabinet houses a 12″ Eminence Legend speaker mounted to a traditional 3/8″ hardboard baffle. The circuit layout follows the classic 5F6-A design of the Fender Bassman, with the addition of reverb and tremolo. It includes a Sovtek GZ34 rectifier tube, a matched pair of Tung-Sol 6V6 power tubes producing 14 watts, and a mix of Tung-Sol 12AX7 and NOS 12AT7 preamp tubes. Under the hood of the Silver Sonic is a point-to-point wired circuit with custom Orange Drop capacitors, U.S.-made resistors, cloth-covered wire, and custom-wound transformers, all meticulously installed on eyelet boards in a steel chassis. The workmanship is admirable.

    Given a run with a recent-reissue Fender Jaguar and Strat, the Silver Sonic’s three-band tone stack offered very musical control over the amp’s sound without over coloring the natural tone of each guitar; this makes it quick and easy to dial in a sound for each. The sound is saturated with overtones and complex harmonics, with a natural chime to the highs and punchy mids and lows. The front end of the amp is very sensitive to touch and pick attack, which lets players dig in for a bit of bark and overdrive at lower volumes, and thick overdrive with the Volume turned up and the power amp section starting to sag. The Eminence Legend is a great choice for this amp, hearty enough to handle the punchy low-end without getting flabby, yet still articulate and transparent enough to reproduce the amp’s complex mids and highs.

    SILVER-SONIC-02

    Whether with the Strat or the Jag, the amp’s tone was natural, allowing the neck pickups to exhibit their natural, throaty tone, the bridge pickups to be bright and punchy without being harsh, and middle positions to jangle. The front end of the reverb circuit made a nice, wet slap, then trailed off with good saturation that just begged for surf licks. While the reverb sound was big and in-your-face, there’s a sweet spot on the control where we were able to dial in a splash, just to add ambiance. The Harmonic Filter Vibrato circuit didn’t take a back seat to the reverb; it, too, had a spacious sound with a warm, thick swell and a three-dimensional pitch-shifting quality (accomplished by inverting the phase of the highs from the lows via a filtering circuit in the tremolo). The amp’s lower-wattage Bassman-style circuit (using 6V6s instead of 6L6s) further allowed dialing in a big sound with attitude at a lower volume.

    The Victoria Silver Sonic offers a bevy of features and sounds from classic ’50s and ’60s amps, wrapped in one high-quality combo. With its harmonically rich tone, big reverb, thick tremolo, and killer aesthetic vibe, it’s an intoxicating package.


    This article originally appeared in VG August 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • Sebago Sound DT50

    Sebago Sound DT50

    SEBAGO-01

    Sebago Sound DT50
    Price: $1,999
    Contact: sebagosound.com

    The DT50 is the 50-watt version of Sebago Sound’s acclaime d Double Trouble amp line. Its mission? To capture classic Texas tone – and then some.

    The DT50 is packed with many high-end features that complement the quality tube tone provided by its circuitry.

    From left to right across the front panel, the first features one sees are two input jacks; Normal connects the guitar directly to the first tube stage, while the FET input inserts a transistor gain stage before the first tube. The FET can be used to add gain to either the clean or Overdrive channel, while also providing the extra gain some piezo-electric guitars need. Most of the time, however, Normal will serve just fine. It should be noted that the DT50 employs four cascading gain stages fueled by three 12AX7 preamp tubes and two 6L6 power tubes. The first two stages are used for the clean channel and, when the Overdrive channel is activated, these first two gain stages are fed into the final two gain stages, for maximum crunchola.

    Following the two input jacks on the front panel is the preamp’s Volume knob succeeded by three mini-switches and three EQ knobs; Treble, Middle, and Bass. The first mini-switch is a Bright switch, which boosts the top end. The second is a Mid boost, which bumps up mid frequencies. The final is a Mode switch, which chooses between Jazz and Rock voices. When the Rock mode is selected, there is a boost in the mid frequencies. As a result, the Bass and Middle knobs become less responsive, because the boost in gain is achieved by partly bypassing the tone stack. Jazz mode is considered the norm, while Rock is activated only when a higher degree of gain is needed.

    SEBAGO-02

    On the back of the DT50 are a standard on/off switch, standby switch, and two speaker outputs wired in parallel. A selector switch allows the user to choose between 4, 8, and 16 Ohms. There’s also an unbuffered effects loop labeled Signal Access. By connecting the Preamp Output jack to the input of an effects signal chain and the Power Amp Input jack to the output of that signal chain, a user is able to insert effects between the preamp and power section, which is particularly useful for time-based effects, which can sound mushy when plugged into an overdriven amp. Finally, there are two mini-switches and the input jack for the DT50’s pedal. The switches select whether or not the Boost and Overdrive functions are activated manually via the front panel or using the footswitch.

    We tested the DT50 with a Strat and Les Paul through a 2×12 cabinet. Playing with DT50 in Jazz mode on the clean channel, the clean tone was reminiscent of Fender blackface combos, without the overwhelming brightness sometimes associated with those amps. The clean sound was full, rich, and responsive to pick dynamics. The Bright and Mid mini-switches are effective for precisely dialing in tone. The Overdrive channel was also impressive. The Drive and Volume knobs provide a range of possibilities ranging from gritty blues-rock tone in Stevie Ray territory to hot-rodded distortion. With the Drive at about 3 o’clock and the Volume dimed, we got tones eerily close to Paranoid-era Tony Iommi. And with the Drive maxed out and the Volume and Mids scooped a bit, the amp can do convincing metal sounds.

    We were happily surprised at the versatility and dynamic tone offered by the DT50. It’s a powerful workhorse.


    This article originally appeared in VG August 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • New Orleans Guitar Company Model 8

    New Orleans Guitar Company Model 8

    NEW-ORLEANDS-MODEL-8-01

    New Orleans Guitar Company Model 8
    Price: $2,999
    Contact: neworleansguitar.com

    For over a decade, the New Orleans Guitar Company has been producing handcrafted electrics with an attention to design and detail possible only in a small shop. The vision of sculptor/luthier Vincent Guidroz was most eloquently conveyed in his Voodoo Custom and JB Custom guitars, with their figured tonewoods, neck-through construction, and fancy inlays.

    But in the real world, less can lead to more. And when dealers and players started asking Guidroz for a high-quality New Orleans Guitar at a lower price, he devised the Model 8.

    Made with the help of the modern luthier’s assistant – the CNC machine – the Model 8 has a four-bolt neck, six-on-a-side headstock, flat top, various pickup configurations, and a hardwood armrest. Holdover construction details include prime tonewoods for the top and back, a stainless-steel zero fret, multi-laminate neck, and an impressive polished finish.

    Our Model 8 test guitar had a tobaccoburst, urethane finish that enhanced the grain of its one-piece ash top, bound in black. The three-piece korina back was untinted and the neck lightly shaded to amber, while the maker’s signature was visible under the finish at the back of the headstock. The circular lower bout has slightly offset waists and a graceful cutaway (with a barely perceptible point), attesting to the tasteful aesthetic of the guitarmaker.

    Looks aside, the Model 8 design represents an opportunity to observe the fundamentals of guitar design. The body is hollow on the bass side, reducing weight and enhancing resonance, while the figured-maple neck is assembled from grain-aligned quartersawn stock, promoting stability and sustain. The headstock is tilted back 10 degrees, eliminating the need for string trees. The zero fret sits 3/8 of an inch from the expertly cut and beveled bone nut. The 22 German nickel-silver frets are medium jumbo sized and sit on a 251/2″-scale rosewood fingerboard with a 12″ radius.

    Chrome Grover tuners, and matching Tone Pros tune-o-matic-style bridge and stop tailpiece are standard. DiMarzio pickups are mounted on the body with two screws through a black-plastic pickguard. Knurled chrome flat-top knobs, a three-way toggle, and an on/off mini switch for the middle pickup complete the visible hardware. Inside, a shielded control cavity houses carefully wired 250k CTS potentiometers with a 0.033-mF capacitor for the tone pot.

    The layout of the black DiMarzio pickups has been thoughtfully considered; the middle is reverse-wound in reverse polarity to create a humbucking effect when added to the mix. The bridge pickup is mounted 17/8″ from the high-E saddle, allowing for plenty of bite but greater exposure to the singing part of the string. The bridge pickup is stock-wound, the middle is five percent under-wound and the neck pickup is 10 percent under-wound, creating a balanced output.

    Strumming the Model 8 unplugged produced a gratifying ring, and plugging it into a late-’50s Ampeg Jet with a reissue Jensen speaker made a nice sonic platform.

    Played clean, the neck P-90 is warm, yet articulate, and the bridge pickup rings with authority for blues and rock leads. But the secret weapon of this design is the middle pickup; kicking in the third P-90 unleashes the guitar’s inner twang. The frequency cancellation achieved with the middle pickup engaged in any combination brings out voices suitable for country chicken pickin’, funk rhythm, and rockabilly sizzle. Employing the full roar of an Ibanez TS-9 in-line, big chords pulsed with audible harmonics, and the taper of the Volume pot allowed for effective volume swells.

    The New Orleans Guitar Company Model 8 offers a broad aural spectrum of satisfying, serviceable tones. Its weight and balance make it comfortable hanging on a strap, while the offset waist helps it rest well on a knee. The soft-shouldered D-profile neck is easy on the hand, and the setup makes for a pleasing playing experience. Designed for the working guitarist, it’s actually much more.


    This article originally appeared in VG August 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • Cort Z44

    Cort Z44

    CORT-Z-44-01

    Cort Z44
    Price: $569 list/under $400 street
    Contact: cortguitars.com

    Just about everywhere you look these days, manufacturers are devising new spins on the single-cutaway solidbody. Cort has been a player on the import scene for decades and, with its Zenox-series Z44, shows it’s serious about being a player in the world of the single-cut.

    The Z44 is a stylish, modern take on the Les Paul archetype. It has a beefier cutaway, a slightly elongated upper bout, and it adds modern flair with a stylish headstock that has a natural-wood “scoop” at its tip and minimal ornamentation on the fretboard, aside from a composite/mother-of-pearl Z inlay at the 12th fret. Black EMG pickups, natural-wood faux binding, an array of recessed knobs and an unusual, slanted cable-jack insert give it a sleek look and feel. The body is contoured with a gently arched top and back, and comfort cuts provide an ergonomic feel.

    This Cort has a set-neck construction and an almost-seamless heel. Materials include a mahogany neck and body, rosewood fingerboard with 22 large frets and a 12″ radius, and a Gibsonesque 243/4″ scale. Other treats include a bridge licensed by Tone Pros, a string-through-body setup, die-cast tuners, and two Volumes, plus a Tone knob with a push/pull coil-tap function. The EMG HZ-H4 is a passive humbucker, unlike its active-powered cousins.

    Plugged into a tube head and 2×12 cabinet, the Z44 proved a hard-rockin’ guitar. Its neck is flat and wide, like an ’80s shred axe, but where you might have paid over $1,000 for this guitar 25 years ago, you can get a Z44 with a similar setup for under $400. It’s impressive, and further evidence of the triumph of mid-priced Asian guitars (the Z44 is built in Indonesia). Certainly, it’s made for the heavy rock/metal crowd and performs extremely well in that context. The humbuckers do their job and, with the liquid-fast fretboard, shred runs and drop-D riffing are a breeze. Bring on your favorite metals riffs!

    The guitar’s debits are minor; some rough finish edges around the input jack. The coil-tap’s effect is modest – don’t expect real single-coil twang; it’s more just a simple midrange cut. Also, the guitar has a bit of heft, but that’s to be expected from a single-cut. All told, the Cort Z44 is a fine guitar, especially considering its affordable price. Add its killer looks and hairy tones, and you have a winner.


    This article originally appeared in VG August 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • Jeff Beck

    Jeff Beck

    Jeff Beck. Photo: Ross Halfin.
    Photo: Ross Halfin.

    In 1985, speaking of the ’83 Action Research into Muscle Distrophy (A.R.M.S.) Tour that united Yardbirds alumni Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, and Eric Clapton, the latter stated, “At that time and for many months after that, I began to think of Jeff as probably being the finest guitar player I’d ever seen. And I’ve been around. I still think that way, if I really sit down and mull it over.”

    Of Beck’s gunslinger image, he added, “There’s something cool and mean about Becky that beats everyone else.”

    But Beck was anything but cool and mean when he celebrated the music of Les Paul and such early rock and roll heroes as Gene Vincent & The Blue Caps at Paul’s former home base, the Iridium nightclub in New York City – preserved on the DVD Rock ‘N’ Roll Party, Honoring Les Paul and its CD counterpart of the same name. Decked out in a tailored outfit identical to the powder blue, pleated pants and three-tone blue shirt-vest Vincent wore in his favorite movie, The Girl Can’t Help It, Beck couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He more than did justice to eight of Les Paul’s best-known songs (on a Gibson Les Paul, of course) and rock and roll classics from Vincent’s “Cruisin’” to the Shangri-Las’ “Walking In The Sand,” the Shadows’ “Apache,” Big Joe Turner’s “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” and, of course, the Rock ‘N Roll Trio’s “Train Kept A-Rollin’,” which Beck made famous in 1965 with the Yardbirds. The evening also included lively cameos from Brian Setzer (on Eddie Cochran’s “Twenty Flight Rock”) and Gary “U.S.” Bonds (on his 1960 hit, “New Orleans”).

    A perennial in any guitarist’s short list of all-time greats, the 66-year-old is currently enjoying perhaps the biggest crossover success and recognition of his 45-year career. And, like all things Beck, he’s achieving it on his own terms, doing things that shouldn’t equate to mass appeal: an album of mostly instrumentals backed by full orchestra, followed by a stroll (more accurately a drag race) down memory lane, wrapped around a tribute to a guitar legend a generation older than him.

    Even fans who’ve followed Beck’s twists and turns from the beginning were slack-jawed when they watched Beck’s contribution to Martin Scorsese Presents The Blues: A Musical Journey. In the 2003 PBS series’ British chapter, Red, White & Blues, directed by Mike Figgis, Beck sat on a couch next to Tom Jones, accompanying the Vegas star on uncanny readings of Ray Charles tunes and played Hubert Sumlin to Jones’ Howlin’ Wolf.

    Though it didn’t air on TV, the CD’s version of “Cry Me A River” featured Lulu in the role of Julie London, and this time Beck nailed Barney Kessel’s sophisticated chordal jazz accompaniment. “So what else is hidden in his arsenal?” fans wondered.

    “Well, I fell in love with Julie London, of course, from the movie The Girl Can’t Help It,” he says of her recurring, ghost-like presence in the film. “Then I found out it was Barney Kessel on guitar, so I went out and bought a Barney Kessel record. I thought, if I could just get close. His stuff was brilliant. So it led me to getting other Barney Kessel albums and other Julie London records.”

    Pretty complex stuff for a 13-year-old whose description of formal learning is, “I used to go to the music shops in Charing Cross Road and look through the window, and sometimes go in and play when they’d let me. And the salesmen at the guitar shops, like Jennings, had to be pretty good, to demonstrate different styles while selling guitars. So I’d watch them.”

    What was also a revelation for viewers of the PBS installment was that Beck, who’d staked his claim in the annals of rock guitar by not sounding like other guitar players, could get inside another stylist’s skin so completely.

    Then came last year’s Grammy Awards telecast, where, at the end of the In Memoriam section, Beck paid tribute to the late Les Paul by playing Paul’s signature tune, “How High The Moon,” note for note. Needless to say, 99 percent of all rock-star guitarists couldn’t do that if you put a gun to his or her head.

    “I first heard Les when I was six,” Beck reveals. “Later on when I heard rock and roll, like Elvis and Carl Perkins, the guitar had a similar trebly, bright sound, with the slapback.”

    He got to meet and play with Paul in ’83, thanks to Billy Squier. “He was doing this ‘Rock & Roll Tonight’ TV show in Pasadena, and he called and asked if I’d like to do a couple of numbers with Les Paul! I thought it was a hoax.”

    As if being one of the instrument’s strongest individuals with an uncanny ability to mimic his heroes wasn’t enough, 15 to 20 years into his career, he completely reinvented himself. He not only changed stylistically, he radically altered his technique – only to earn even more respect among his peers.

    When Jimmy Page gave the induction speech for Beck’s second trip to the podium at the Rock And Rock Hall Of Fame in 2009 (having been ensconced as a Yardbird in ‘92), he said of his former bandmate, “He’d just keep getting better and better, and he still has, all the way through. You know, he leaves us mere mortals – believe me – just wondering and having so much respect for him. Jeff’s whole guitar style is totally unorthodox to the way that anybody was taught. He’s really developed a whole style of expanding the electric guitar and making it into something that is just sounds and techniques totally unheard of before. And that’s an amazing feat – believe me.”

    One major change is his approach to the guitar was abandoning picks to play with his fingers while integrating the Strat’s whammy bar more seamlessly than perhaps any guitarist before him (see sidebar, where guitar tech Stevie Prior details Beck’s fingers-and-whammy technique and gives the lowdown on every component in his boss’ signal chain).

    To take a stab at fully understanding Jeff Beck, you need to see The Girl Can’t Help It, because it’s an obsession with him. The Jayne Mansfield vehicle, which reached England in ’57, included lip-synched appearances by Vincent, Little Richard, the Treniers, Eddie Cochran, the Platters, Fats Domino, and others, along with London’s recurring “Cry Me A River.” “My older sister and her friends went to see it, and afterwards she told me I needed to go,” recounts Beck. “It was like a door opening. That film was a masterpiece – in Technicolor, just everything about it. John Waters, the director, has stated it’s his favorite film.” Indeed, for Pink Flamingos, Waters copped the scene where Mansfield wiggles down the street to Little Richard’s title track, except he cast plus-size transvestite Divine in place of Mansfield.

    Being stuck in dank, gray England, to a kid of 13, America must have seemed like an exotic oasis, filled with rock and roll and blond bombshells – all in Technicolor. Also, Beck was at an impressionable age when Bill Haley, Elvis Presley, and the Everly Brothers began infiltrating radio that had been dominated by easy listening – music for parents. “My older sister brought home lots of rock and roll records, which were totally different from what had been on the radio prior to that,” he enthuses. “She also brought home records by the vocal, doo-wop groups, and I liked that, as well. It’s funny to listen to now, because there are a lot of ‘discords’ in the harmonies. But it’s still great. Songs like ‘I Only Have Eyes For You.’ Who was that – the Flamingos?”

    Beck’s exposure to blues didn’t come until he started playing in bands. “Blues was a big thing, and in the beginning the Yardbirds really wanted me to play blues,” he says.
    They soon broke out of their own pigeonhole, especially when Beck replaced Clapton as lead guitarist in March ’65, when he was 20 years old.

    When he first hit the scene with the Yardbirds, Beck immediately went to the front of the line in the hierarchy of guitar heroes. In fact, the term didn’t even exist at the time. Clapton was unknown, at least on this side of the Atlantic, and would remain so thanks to albums that featured his playing but didn’t credit him. And it should be said that, as good as Clapton was at the time, his style hadn’t yet coalesced to the point that it inspired “Clapton Is God” graffiti around London. While Clapton holed up, soaking up blues records, Beck wasted no time taking the Yardbirds to greater heights.

    In typical slice-and-dice fashion, the band’s U.S. label, Epic, cobbled the Yardbirds’ first two American albums from singles, live tracks from the band’s British debut (which remained unreleased in the States for years), and other odds and ends. To clear up any confusion: although Clapton wasn’t even named (and Beck was named and pictured) on 1965’s For Your Love, he played on all of the album’s cuts except for “I’m Not Talking,” “I Ain’t Done Wrong,” and “My Girl Sloopy,” which featured Beck. Only four months later, Having A Rave-Up was released. Live cuts from the Clapton-era Yardbirds’ U.K. debut, Five Live Yardbirds, comprised Side Two (though, again, Clapton wasn’t pictured or named), while Side One consisted of English singles featuring Beck and U.S.-only material recorded while the band toured America.

    Thus, America’s true introduction to Jeff Beck was via six of the most envelope-pushing, in-your-face cocktails of musicality and bravado that rock and roll had ever seen. There was the Indian-tinged, fuzz-laden “Heart Full Of Soul” and the Gregorian chant-based “Still I’m Sad.” “You’re A Better Man Than I” and “Evil Hearted You” proved perfect vehicles for Beck’s blend of dynamics and melodicism. His solo on the aforementioned “Train” was 30 seconds of perfectly crafted spontaneity (never a contradiction with Beck), while “I’m A Man” deconstructed the Bo Diddley blues, as Beck went beyond flashy chops, or effects like distortion, and entered a realm of sonic exploration that took rock guitar to another level. In concert, songs like “I’m A Man” may have started out as blues, but they transformed into crazed rockers by the third chorus. “We played this armory-type place where there were bars along the ceiling, and the fans would swing on them like monkeys” Beck laughs. “The wilder we played, the crazier they got, pushing us to take it further.”

    When the Yardbirds hired Beck, he didn’t have a guitar. “They loaned me the red Telecaster that Eric had played,” he explains. “I think the band owned it and would lease it out. It was a rosewood-fingerboard, but I really wanted a maple-neck. In ’65, we were on tour with the Walker Brothers, and John Walker had one, and I asked if I could buy it. He wanted 75 pounds for it.” That maple-neck Esquire was on “I’m A Man,” “Over Under Sideways Down,” “Shapes Of Things,” and numerous others.

    When the band entered the studio to (finally) record its first full-fledged album, as opposed to a collection of A-sides and flipsides, Beck and the boys were arguably at their eclectic best. The album was called The Yardbirds, but was nicknamed “Roger The Engineer” after rhythm guitarist Chris Dreja’s cover drawing. (A truncated version, re-titled Over Under Sideways Down, was released in the States.) Beck handled the varied repertoire in grand fashion – from “Over Under Sideways Down” (an Indian-tinged follow-up to “Heart Full Of Soul”) to the country drone of “I Can’t Make Your Way” and the uncategorizable “Hot House Of Omagarashid.” His instrumental feature, “Jeff’s Boogie” (with nods to Chuck Berry and Les Paul), became a trial by fire for guitarists in high-school garage bands everywhere. Unfortunately, his vocal contribution, the Elmore James styled “The Nazz Are Blue,” was trimmed off the American release.

    After leaving session work, Page – Beck’s friend since their early teens – replaced bassist Paul Samwell-Smith. He eventually switched roles with rhythm guitarist Chris Dreja, but the dual-lead concept lasted barely two months before Beck was fired, in November ’66.

    But sacked or not, of the guitar royalty that passed through the Yardbirds, Samwell-Smith later said that the Beck period was the band’s most creative.

    Around this same time, a new gun in town appeared in the form of Jimi Hendrix. In the posthumous documentary, A Film About Jimi Hendrix, Pete Townshend tells a story about Beck coming out of a club Hendrix was playing just as Townshend was heading in. According to the Who guitarist, Beck groused, “He’s stolen all your stuff.” “Yeah, that did happen,” Beck confirms, “But I did also say, ‘We’re finished.’ It wasn’t meant in a negative way; I just meant that he was doing gymnastics with the guitar, the way Pete had been doing. After Pete saw him, he had even more of a smackdown than I had,” Beck laughs.

    Beck soon got to know Hendrix, and there was a lot of mutual respect between them. “He really opened everybody’s ears up to what could be done with an electric guitar,” states Beck. “I’d been doing similar things, but not so ostentatious. Even before Marshalls and before I went to America, I was actually using feedback. I used to turn it up until it started feeding back, then leave the guitar on top of the amp, feeding back, and find another one and play along with it. So I didn’t come along at the back end of that, no.”

    Supporting the notion that Beck had raised the profile of the lead guitarist, in terms of playing as well as image, is the fact that his first album as a leader was greeted with such anticipation when it was released nearly two years after his departure from the Yardbirds, with only three singles in between. Truth, released in August ’68, found Beck leading a quartet that provided singer Rod Stewart’s first exposure to American audiences. Though he auditioned as rhythm guitarist, Ron Wood was switched to bass, with drummer Micky Waller rounding out the rhythm section.

    The majestic instrumental “Beck’s Bolero” was written by Page, who played 12-string rhythm on it, along with John Paul Jones on bass, future JBG member Nicky Hopkins on piano, and Keith Moon on drums. It was originally the flipside to Beck’s vocal on “Hi Ho Silver Lining,” and in his liner notes Beck acknowledged the repeat, saying, “We couldn’t improve on it.” In concert, Rod would strap on a guitar for the only time of the night – a Telecaster fitted with a Danelectro Bellzouki 12-string neck – while Beck wailed on his sunburst Les Paul.

    Two of the album’s standout cuts were done in a heavy blues style that anticipated Led Zeppelin – a fuzz/wah tour de force on Howlin’ Wolf’s “I Ain’t Superstitious” and Muddy Waters’ “You Shook Me” of which Beck wrote, “Last note of song is my guitar being sick – well, so would you if I smashed your guts for 2:28.”

    Beck with his ’56 Gretsch 6128 Duo Jet. Photo: Larry Busacca.
    Beck with his ’56 Gretsch 6128 Duo Jet. Photo: Larry Busacca.

    The original Jeff Beck Group broke up after its second album, 1969’s Beck-Ola, which annotator Charles Shaar Murray notes was “just before hard rock became heavy metal.”

    The beginning of the ’70s started with a completely new JBG lineup, featuring drummer Cozy Powell, keyboardist Max Middleton, and singer/guitarist Bob Tench. Veering away from hard rock, the band settled into more of a jazz-funk feel, and their two albums weren’t received well.

    Next, Beck teamed with Vanilla Fudge’s rhythm section for Beck, Bogert & Appice, a return to heavy rock without the nuance of the original, Stewart-fronted JBG.

    But big things were just around the corner. Recorded in 1974 and ’75, Beck flirted (and scored) with the jazzy fusion of Blow By Blow. Produced by George Martin, the all-instrumental LP found Beck in the Top 10 album chart for the first time, and his versions of Middleton’s “Freeway Jam” and Stevie Wonder’s “’Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers” have become staples of his concert repertoire.

    During the sessions, he got a visit from pickup wiz Seymour Duncan. “He had a couple of guitars,” Beck recounts. “And he asked if I still had the old Esquire. I said, ‘Yeah.’ He showed me this Tele with a very heavy ash body, with two humbuckers in it – so it was the best of both worlds between the Fender and Les Paul. I ended up using it on ‘’Cause We’ve Ended As Lovers.’ He asked if I could bring the Esquire the next day, so I did, and he said, ‘Do you want to swap?’ So I made the swap, because the Tele he’d loaned me was a much better guitar than the Esquire – although it occurred to me that I was losing my old workhorse.”

    Wired (1976) was an even more overt jazz-fusion outing, featuring Jan Hammer’s synthesizer, Narada Michael Walden’s drumming, and plenty of Beck’s Stratocaster.

    During the ’80s and ’90s, Beck released only five albums, but was more unpredictable than ever. For Flash, he surrounded himself with vocalists, including Rod Stewart’s reading of “People Get Ready”; then Jeff Beck’s Guitar Shop’s bass-less trio (with drummer Terry Bozzio and keyboardist Tony Hymas) took to the road for a co-headlining tour with Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble. In ’93, fearing that his hearing was getting dangerously bad, he broke out his ’50s Gretsch and a small amp and cut Crazy Legs with England’s Big Town Playboys – a tribute to Gene Vincent with Jeff in the role of the Blue Caps’ phenomenal guitarist Cliff Gallup. Next, of course (for him), he embraced techno on Who Else. It and its followup, You Had It Coming, featured Michael Jackson guitarist Jennifer Batten.

    In a 1993 interview about Crazy Legs, when asked where the inevitable “Jeff Beck twist” was, he proclaimed, “There is none. The whole point of it was, ‘Hey, this guy Gallup was it! I see myself like an evangelist; ‘Listen to the gospel of Cliff Gallup.’ I’d have made the album just to have it for my car, you know. So I could say, ‘Hey, want to hear me play like Cliff?’”

    A purist in the extreme, he adopted Gallup’s unorthodox technique of using a thumbpick in combination with fingerpicks on his middle and ring fingers. The album was really the first instance of Beck obviously paying homage to someone – although, in hindsight, “Jeff’s Boogie” contains some Les Paul by way of Gallup (along with the obvious Chuck Berry format). He says his previous bands didn’t allow him to delve too deeply into his rockabilly roots. “The closest I could come with the Yardbirds was Paul Burlison with the Rock ’N Roll Trio, on ‘Train Kept A-Rollin’.’ Or actually, Grady Martin, I later learned, played on that. Paul Burlison was more than happy to take credit for it, but there’s this one Grady Martin record where you can really tell it’s the same guy as on the Rock ’N Roll Trio stuff.

    “Only recently, I discovered that Les and Cliff were really influenced by Django Reinhardt,” he continues. “There’s this lick that both Les and Cliff played, and I discovered a Django record where he plays the same lick – somewhere in Django’s catalog. So where did he get it? And I think they were both influenced by Charlie Christian.”

    Accustomed to playing stadiums and arenas, Beck played five nights in 2007 at London’s famed jazz club, Ronnie Scott’s – capacity 220. For the Grammy-winning CD and platinum DVD of the event, Beck gathered the same lineup he used at Clapton’s 2007 and 2010 Crossroads Guitar Festivals: drummer Vinnie Colaiuta, keyboardist Jason Rebello, and the tasty bass playing of Tal Wilkenfeld.

    Beck has played all three Crossroads Fests. Though he only got to play one song in ’04 (a planned finale with him, Clapton, and ZZ Top was scrapped when a thunder storm rolled in), he all but stole the shows in ’07 and ’10.

    Colaiuta, Rebello, and Wilkenfeld form the nucleus on most cuts on Emotion & Commotion – even when Beck’s guitar is wailing like the greatest vocalist ever, in front of a string orchestra on pieces ranging from “Over The Rainbow” to “Corpus Christi Carol,” which he heard by Jeff Buckley, or from Puccini’s “Nessun Dorma” to “Serene,” featuring opera singer Olivia Safe.

    Needless to say, “Baby, Let’s Play House” might be an exact 180 from Puccini, but, by all appearances, for Beck it’s as natural as changing lanes on a highway. And any adjustment is impossible to detect, as he switches guitars on the DVD – ultimately using his white signature Strat, Gibson ES-175, Gretsch Duo Jet, Fender Nocaster, and, of course, a Les Paul.

    Of the latter, Gibson Entertainment Relations staffer Pat Foley details, “The Les Paul he’s using on the tour is one we loaned to Jeff for the Grammy Awards last year, and he took a liking to it. It’s a ’58 Custom Shop reissue that was one of two we built for Mark Knopfler. Mark chose the one he preferred, and this is the other. We built two just to let Mark try. He doesn’t like flame-tops – and neither does Jeff, actually – so he chose the one that had less flame on it. The one Jeff’s using has a push/pull knob on one of the tone pots that splits the rear pickup to make it a single-coil or a humbucker. It has a slightly slimmer neck than a standard ’58, so it’s kind of like Pearly Gates – more a ’59-style neck. So it’s kind of a hybrid of a ’58 and ’59 reissue.

    “The ES-175 is a standard reissue, in blond,” Foley continues. “Jeff was doing a Scotty Moore tribute and wanted to use kind of a rockabilly guitar. We loaned him a 295 and a 175, and he took to the 175, which is on the cover of the Rock ’N Roll Party DVD.”

    Beck first became interested in Imelda May after seeing a picture of her outside Ronnie Scott’s. The Irish songstress, described by Beck as “just amazing,” was a member of Blue Harlem before cutting her solo debut, Love Tattoo (Verve Forecast), in ’08. Coincidentally, she’s the wife of English singer/guitarist Darrel Higham, an Eddie Cochran fanatic who, in addition to a dozen solo CDs, had been a member of the Big Town Playboys – who previously had backed Beck on Crazy Legs. So in addition to May (who also contributes a vocal to Emotion), Beck had Higham on rhythm guitar and handling the male vocals.

    As with Crazy Legs, one component that had to be just so for the Les Paul tribute to sound right was that it had to be played at low volume. “Definitely low,” he nods, “It just wouldn’t sound right through a Marshall.”

    Although he’s been quoted as saying he played the Iridium through a pair of Super Champs, Fender’s Shane Nicholas clarifies, “Those were Pro Juniors. One was finished in Sonic Blue to match a Custom Shop guitar at the NAMM show, and somehow Jeff ended up with it.”

    The dialed-down approach definitely benefits the instrumentals “Apache” and “Sleep Walk,” where Beck gets a clean, round tone a la Hank Marvin of the Shadows on the former, and does a scary-good job of imitating Santo Farina’s steel guitar on the latter, by way of his Strat’s whammy – even playing parts of the main melody with the whammy, instead of moving his fretting hand, while displaying flawless intonation.

    After the dazzling Les Paul portion of the set – including “Bye Bye Blues,” “Mockin’ Bird Hill,” “Vaya Con Dios,” and “The World Is Waiting For The Sunrise” – Beck and the combo waste no time diving into a scorching rendition of “Peter Gunn,” a dramatic arrangement of the Shangri-Las’ “Walking In The Sand,” the Treniers’ “Rocking Is Our Business” (which they performed in – what else? – The Girl Can’t Help It), the Little Richard theme to said movie, and Bill Haley’s “Rock Around The Clock,” with Beck duplicating Danny Cedrone’s well-known (but hard to play) solo.

    Beck made a concession and grabbed a flatpick for certain songs, that being one of them. “I usually play that [up-and-down picking] style using my index fingernail, but it was getting too torn up. So yeah, that was with a pick. I love that original solo.”

    Conceding that it’s impossible to predict what Beck will do in the future, it’s near impossible to keep up with what he’s doing now. As he was picking up three Grammy Awards for Emotion & Commotion (bringing his career total to eight), he was touring in support of the Rock ’N Roll Party, Honoring Les Paul CD (on Atco) and Eagle Vision DVD releases. This interview was conducted during that tour, but on April 13 he regrouped his lineup of 2010 – drummer Walden, keyboardist Rebello, and bassist Rhonda Smith – for more emotion, commotion, and who knows what else.

    In 45 years of gigging, Beck has experienced many instances when his playing suddenly takes flight and comes up to another level. “Yep,” he nods. “That happens. I don’t know how it happens. Vinnie really recognizes when that happens – and keeps track. He can tell you when it happened in which song – Tal, too. A lot of it depends on the sound onstage.”

    Asked what those special moments feel like, Beck lets out a deep sigh. “Ahhh! It’s heaven,” he smiles. “You want to stay there forever.”


    Jeff Beck. Photo: Larry Busacca.
    The Les Paul Beck uses on tour is a Gibson '58 Custom Shop reissue built for Mark Knopfler, who didn't like the strong flame figure of its top. Photo: Larry Busacca.

    Beck’s Keeper Of The Flame (Top) – And Everything Else

    Nobody is more qualified to talk about Jeff Beck’s gear than Stevie Prior – not even Beck himself. Beck’s job is to be the six-string sorcerer he has always been. Prior’s job is to make sure he has the tools he needs to do so, even when that might mean a complete overhaul from one tour to the next.

    This spring, Beck began what Prior calls his “normal” or “own” shows – backed by drummer Narada Michael Walden, bassist Rhonda Smith, and keyboardist Jason Rebello – almost immediately after finishing his “Rock ’N Roll Party” tour, with singer Imelda May. Here, Beck’s guitar tech of 12 years details every component that went into his boss’ sound – as Beck paid homage to Les Paul and his early rock and roll heroes.

    It starts with the Fender Custom Shop’s Jeff Beck Signature Stratocaster. “All of Jeff’s Signature Strats are slightly modified from the ones you’d find in a guitar shop,” Prior reveals. “The main, white one is a ’95 basswood-body made by J.W. Black, with a J.W. Black neck from ’93, and John Suhr pickups, which there are really only two sets of in existence – that main guitar and then the Surf Green spare. Obviously, Fender would like to get those back so they could try to replicate those pickups, but that’ll never happen, because you’d never get the guitar out of Jeff’s hands long enough. But I’m now using Fender Custom Shop Alnico N3 pickups made by Michael Frank-Braun in all the other [backup] Strats. They’re much more true to the Strat-like tone, in that they’re Alnico II, III, and V – that’s neck, middle, bridge – although they’re Noiseless, which we obviously rely very heavily upon. He hates that 50- to 60-hertz buzz with single-coils. They’re probably a bit brighter, because the Surf gets a quite dark midrange sound. He quite likes that brilliance and shimmer he gets from the N3s.”

    The Strat’s vibrato is also customized to suit Beck’s plectrumless technique. “It’s got three of the springs, in a fan arrangement from the center pegs on the claw branching out to the outermost on the back of the trem block itself. It’s a two-point vibrato, floating, and the bar is bent much more than on a store-bought model. Because the block is kicked up, the arm has to be at a much greater angle. There are five things to do with his right hand before you even think about what to do with his left hand. He uses the back of the palm of his hand for a kind of vibrato effect on the back of the block, the little finger is on the Volume control and sometimes hits the selector switch. Then he lifts the bar with his ring finger, presses it down with his middle finger, and uses the index and thumb for picking. He only very occasionally uses a pick. He hates them.”

    Beck used two hollowbody models for the tour and Iridium DVD. “The [Gibson] ES-175 is a stock 1990 reissue,” Prior notes. “Then, for the Cliff Gallup/Gene Vincent songs in the set, it’s an original ’56 Gretsch 6128 Duo Jet – the same one he used on the Crazy Legs album. He’s got a fixed-arm Bigsby on it and the same strings that have been on it for probably 13 years – D’Addario medium flatwounds. He’s got two [6128s] from the late ’50s, and I got him two Custom Shop Relics, but he doesn’t like them; they’re too new for him.”

    He’s also carrying two Telecasters. “One is a very early Custom Shop Relic ’51 Nocaster – about 15 or 16 years old – with Lindy Fralin pickups and, obviously, more-conventional wiring instead of the Nocaster wiring. The other one is also a ’51 Nocaster reissue, done for the NAMM show two years ago.”

    It’s well-known that the Fender Esquire Beck played with the Yardbirds was later traded to pickup guru Seymour Duncan, and that Fender is now making a limited edition replica of it. “Jeff’s not involved with that; it’s Seymour’s deal,” says Prior. “Jeff swapped the Yardbirds guitar – the Esquire – to Seymour for two Telecasters, one of which had two humbuckers – a modified Esquire. Jeff didn’t really care for the Yardbirds guitar very much, which is the reason he swapped it. The ’54 Tele that was part of the deal, we call that the Blue Caps guitar, because Jeff got some of Gene Vincent’s Blue Caps to sign the back of it.”

    The Fender Esquire. Photo: Seymour W. Duncan.
    The Fender Esquire Beck traded to pickup builder Seymour Duncan in exchange for a customized Tele. Photo: Seymour W. Duncan.

    Naturally, to do justice to “How High The Moon,” Beck needed to break out a Gibson Les Paul (see Pat Foley’s comments in the feature regarding Beck’s Paul of choice). For backups, he has a pair of the Gibson Custom Shop’s Jeff Beck ’54 Oxblood Les Pauls. Part of Gibson’s Vintage Original Spec (V.O.S.) series, it’s a re-creation of a modified ’54 Les Paul Beck purchased in Memphis decades ago. It was depicted on the cover of Blow By Blow. Before coming into his possession, the guitar’s gold finish was stripped and replaced with chocolate-brown, and the P-90s were replaced with humbuckers. Also, the neck profile was made slightly thinner. Prior says, “The backup Oxblood repros are the first prototype and the number one guitar. His original is at home with the same five strings it had 30 years ago when he stopped playing it.”

    Then there’s the arsenal’s ugly duckling: “We’re also using a white Supro Dual Tone for one song, ‘Poor Boy.’ It wasn’t featured on the DVD because Jeff forgot to send it out, but it’s all original; he paid $12 for it. It’s a wooden-body, and it’s got four controls just under the second scratchplate – Volume and Tone for each pickup. The switch is just two-way, so it’s either pickup, no middle position.”

    Whatever the guitar, Beck typically turns the Bass control on the amp all the way off. “He actually controls the tone from his guitar,” Prior explains. “He’ll roll off all the highs if he doesn’t want anything sounding too bright and in-your-face. He generally likes a lot of midrange, a lot of top and presence, but he doesn’t really like a lot of bass – probably due to his tinnitus. So the first thing he does with a Marshall amp is the Bass goes all the way off.”

    On the DVD, Beck is playing through a pair of Fender Pro Juniors. “The Sonic Blue one has a Jensen P10R Alnico I retrofitted just to get a bit more treble. On the tour now, we’re using these marvelous Lazy J amps built by Jesse Hoff – effectively a 20-watt tweed Deluxe. Pretty much based on the 5E3 circuit, but they have Heyboer transformers and they’re 6L6-based, so they have a bit more clean headroom. Jesse built both for me, but Jeff likes them, and the PAFs would just drive the Pro Juniors too hard. As opposed to the 10″ speakers in the Pro Juniors, the Lazy J has a 12″ speaker. They’re loaded with an English-made Alnico speaker called a Tayden Ace 25. It’s very much like a Celestion Blue – a bit more musical sounding than the Celestion Alnico. They have just a Tone control, but it’s a concentric pot. When activated, it gives a little extra midrange, adds a bit of color to the middle. They have a very clever power-scaling circuit, which we don’t actually use, but it allows you to get the amp sounding good, and then you just dial down the amount of grid volts going to the output tubes – which effectively allows you to turn the overall volume down. One of the amps has a valve (tube) reverb and a valve tremolo that come as add-on units bolted to the back of the box.”

    “The Lazy J 20 is based on a tweed Deluxe,” adds builder Jesse Hoff. “When I played music for a living in the ’90s, I had a tweed Deluxe. But I thought it had significant shortcomings in terms of being a live amp. I started changing it, but without drilling holes in a piece of vintage equipment. When I moved to England, I built one myself. Since it was new – not vintage – I could do anything I wanted. That started about two and a half years ago, and evolved into making them for other people, then starting a company. There’s a version of the amp I called Lazy J 20H that has about five extra watts, so it sounds a little bit snappier. Jeff has one of each version; his 20H doesn’t have the reverb or tremolo. They have two 6L6 power tubes, a GZ34 tube rectifier, and a variable voltage attenuator. The Tayden speakers are changed a little bit for my purposes, so they have a little more snap than regular Ace 25s. They make speakers under the name Audio Loudspeakers – Tayden is only one part of what they do. The circuit is different from a Fender tweed Deluxe’s 5E3, to have a less-broken-up sound. It gives it a bit more power and clarity. Tweed Deluxes break up very early, and that’s why people love them for recording. But that also makes them a bit less useful, live. I’ve been trying to make an amp that wouldn’t lose the inherent character of the 5E3 tweed Deluxe but gave the clarity to make it more useful in a variety of situations.”

    “I’m also running a pair of reissue Marshall JTM 45s,” Prior continues. “I’ve stuck them to Marshall custom-made floor wedges, which are 4x12s loaded with Greenbacks, split into two boxes. So one of the JTM 45s runs a pair of wedges downstage, which are effectively a 16-ohm load, and one of the JTM 45s runs a Greenback-loaded 1960BX cabinet onstage. I run all amps through a couple of buffered, isolated splitter boxes, which allow me to run however many rigs I need to. They were built by a guy in the U.K. who worked for Marshall for 30-odd years – now Mike Hill Services (MHS).”

    For Beck’s “own” shows, Prior controls an offstage rack that includes such things as a Maestro Ring Modulator, a Mu-Tron octave divider, and an old, gray MXR Power Flanger, “like Eddie Van Halen used.” A pair of limited-edition Marshall JTM 45 100s – “essentially the front end of a JTM 45 with two output stages” – is also employed.

    Prior details the rockabilly shows’ signal chain: “I do prefer Evidence cables, but he kind of thrashes them with his big engineer’s boots, so that seemed kind of wasteful. So I make my own Mogami cables with Switchcraft jacks. That goes into a Snarling Dogs Super Bawl Whine-O-Wah. Kenny Segall is the man behind that. Next, it’s into a Klon Centaur Overdrive, out of that and into a delay – literally just for the slap echo, a single repeat – and into a reverb. We haven’t really finalized which delay we’re going to use, but there’s a company called Strymon that makes an El Capistan, which is a very clever digital version of an Echoplex. And I’ve also got a Strymon Brigadier, which is kind of a dBucket remake of the Boss DM-2 or Ibanez AD9 – any of those old-school, fairly dark-sounding delay pedals from the ’80s. It does all those, but brilliantly. And we also have a Way-Huge Aqua-Puss, the Brad Paisley signature delay, and then a [Strymon] Blue Sky, an amazing reverb pedal. From all that, it goes into the MHS buffered, isolated splitting box, then into however many amps we’re using. And we put a pair of Sennheiser 509s on the amplifiers, and generally a 57 or something like that on the 4x12s.”

    Radical gear shifts from one tour to the next don’t bother Prior. “Jeff doesn’t really care for the technical side of it, so he just leaves it to me to give him the best I can. When you start talking about amps, he just kind of glazes over. And it doesn’t really matter what you give him, he’ll always sound like Jeff. Quite often, I’ll just give him the Strat and pedalboard, and he can plug into literally anything; it’ll sound like Jeff. It’s between his ears, and then that unique explosion that happens in his mind transfers to his fingers, into whatever wood and wire he’s holding at the time. It doesn’t matter if he’s playing an old plastic Maccaferri at home; he’ll still come up with the most extraordinary stuff. That’s part of the greatness of the man – he can literally do anything. He could play the theme to Star Wars on a whoopee cushion.” – Dan Forte


    This article originally appeared in VG July 2011 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.


  • Dynamic Amplifiers 2040 Series

    Dynamic Amplifiers 2040 Series

    DYNAMIC 240 VA COMBO
    Dynamic Amps 2040 series
    Price:  $2,570 (VA Combo)

    David Carambula’s Dynamic 2040 series of amplifiers consists of three models: Vintage American (VA), Vintage British (VB), and the HG DynaLead. All use class AB single-channel design that can utilize a variety of output tubes, with output reduction, tube rectifier, tube-driven tremolo, spring reverb, welded-aluminum chassis, point-to-point wiring, custom transformers and dovetailed pine cabinets. They sport nicely executed black tolex with burgundy or hunter-green face insets, gold piping, black hardware, and a back-lit logo plate.

    Dynamic’s standard control layout consists of a single 1/4″ input, three-way Bright switch, control for Gain, three-way Grind switch, three-way Clean switch, five-position Voicing selector, Thin/Fat tone control, Tremolo Frequency and Intensity, Reverb Mix and Hi/Lo controls, Master Volume control and power/Standby switches. The rear panel has a detachable power-cord socket, two test points for biasing, a three-position Power Step switch, a pair of 1/4″ extension speaker output jacks, a main speaker jack and three RCA footswitch jacks, one each for reverb, tremolo and boost.

    Typically, the Power Step switch gives full power (about 40 watts) in the top position, half power (about 20 watts) in the bottom position, and 1/10 power (about 4 watts) in the middle position, all dependent on which power tubes you have installed. In addition to the front and rear panel controls, the 4020 has a couple of switches underneath by the power tubes, a High/Low plate voltage switch and a bias switch with some pre-set bias adjustments for different power tubes. By manipulating these switches correctly, you can switch from EL34 power tubes to 6L6s or 6V6s simply by swapping out the power tubes and flicking a switch or two. If a little D.I.Y. biasing is something you can tackle, then you can expand your tube selection to include 6550s, 5881s, KT66s and even KT88s.

    We checked out three versions of the Dynamic 2040; a Vintage American combo with a pair of Tung Sol 6L6GCs and a 12″ Eminence Wizard speaker, a Vintage British Head with a pair of JJ EL34s, and a VA head with a quad of TungSol 6V6s. We used the Eminence in the combo to test the heads. Our guitars were a Fender Relic Strat and a Gibson Les Paul Standard Plus.

    DYNAMIC 240 VA Head

    Dynamic Amps 2040 series
    Price:  $2,250 (VA)

    A quick run through three amps revealed a common thread – a healthy dose of thick overtones. All three had own unique voicing but shared a lively musical tone.

    The 2040’s five-position Voicing selector offers three positions with midrange notches, a position that engages only the tone stack, and one where the tone stack is completely bypassed. The latter offers the most transparent, natural sound, with the most gain. The first three add subtle midrange with different center points; all are well-voiced, but do reduce gain a bit. The single Thin/Fat tone stack control cuts a fairly wide swath with the low-end – sounding very thin when rolled all the way clockwise, and nice and fat when rolled all the way counterclockwise. It makes quick work of fattening up single-coils or adding snap to humbuckers, especially when used in conjunction with the Bright switch.

    DYNAMIC 240 VB Head

    Dynamic Amps 2040 series
    Dynamic Amps 2040 series
    Price: $2,320 (VB head)
    Info: dynamicamps.com

    The 2040 is a single-channel amp with an average amount of control knobs, and thus does take a bit of tweaking to learn how they interact. Utilizing the Grind and Clean switches in conjunction with five-position Voicing switch is a bit tricky at first, but once you see how they interact with each other and the single Fat/Thin tone control, it becomes easier to dial in a sound. Though the VA and VB models look the same and have the same layout, they are uniquely voiced; the Vintage American combo sports a bit more open tone with rounder low-end and pulled-back mids, while the Vintage British sports thicker mids, tighter lows, and more bark. The Vintage American head, with the quad of 6V6s, fits nicely between the other two, sporting a classic open sound with more-aggressive upper-midrange. All three have tube-driven tremolo with Frequency (speed) and Intensity controls, producing a vintage-flavored tremolo that can get very intense and deep. The tube-driven reverb circuit has an Accutronics six-spring tank with a Mix control and a Hi/Lo intensity switch that allows for the reverb to either be “surf” deep or just a light ambient wash.

    Dynamic’s 2040 amps sport great build quality and well-conceived circuits, and all produce excellent “boutique” tone.


    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.


  • Joe Walsh

    Joe Walsh

    JOE WALSH
    Photo: Ross Brubeck.

    Whether coughing up the #2 talk-box lick of the ’70s, kicking the Eagles into overdrive, or wryly expressing his views on subjects ranging from rock-and-roll excess to lawn mowers to a good ol’ set of double Ds, Joe Walsh has earned a rep for delivering a message.

    The guitarist/songwriter/ producer/actor who gained fame in the James Gang and as a solo artist before joining the Eagles, has just released Analog Man, his first solo album in two decades.

    Born in Wichita, Kansas, Walsh’s family lived in Ohio and New York City before moving to Montclair, New Jersey, where he attended high school and began playing guitar in bands. He went on to study at Kent State University, where his free time was spent playing in bands like The Measles.

    The James Gang gig started in ’68, and he soon became star of the show for his innovative rhythm playing and creative guitar riffs. The band scored several minor hits before Walsh bailed in late ’71 to help form Barnstorm, which recorded two albums – Barnstorm in 1972 and The Smoker You Drink, the Player You Get (’73). The latter served as the band’s commercial breakthrough and included that catchy talk-box solo on its first single, “Rocky Mountain Way,” which reached the U.S. Top 40.

    After Barnstorm disbanded in ’74, Walsh became a true solo act, releasing So What and the single “Turn To Stone.” In late ’75, he was asked to replace Bernie Leadon in the country-rock band the Eagles. There, his presence lent the group a distinct rock bent, and its first album with him onboard, the 1976 release Hotel California, included two Top 20 hits on which Walsh played vital roles; he composed the famed guitar riff on Glenn Frey’s “Life in the Fast Lane” and brought to the band a song called “Pretty Maids All in a Row,” which he co-wrote with Barnstorm drummer Joe Vitale.

    In the wake of the huge success of Hotel California, the Eagles experienced their share of fame-derived drama, including having members fall into the very traps their songs warned against. The followup, The Long Run, took nearly three years to record and produce – an enormous span at the time. Walsh used the time between to record But Seriously, Folks… and the single “Life’s Been Good,” which parodied rock stardom. He also recorded “In the City” for the soundtrack to Walter Hill’s 1979 cult film The Warriors.

    Through the latter half of the ’80s and into the ’90s, Walsh stayed busy performing with a variety of bands in Australia and the U.S., exploring rock, blues and other styles; his 1994 single “Ordinary Average Guy” was originally recorded in 1990 by Herbs, the New Zealand-based reggae legends.

    Analog Man reflects on his life over the last decade. Produced by Walsh and Jeff Lynne, the disc sees him working with co-writer Tommy Lee James and features his brother-in-law, Ringo Starr, on drums for one track.

    One of the album’s overriding themes is Walsh’s battle with alcoholism, which at times kept him away from music.

    “I went out and explored [sobriety]. I just didn’t want to mess with creative stuff or writing or anything because there were still a lot of triggers, until I had enough sobriety to be able to do music that way,” he said. “The other thing that happened was, in 1994, the Eagles decided to get back to work. We did Hell Freezes Over, and have been touring pretty regularly since, been around the world a couple of times. I just never got any momentum going to really go in and do an album.”

    When did you start a serious run at making the new album?
    That was about three years ago. I’ve been married 31/2 years, and my wife, Marjorie, is the missing part of me.

    I have a little attention deficit disorder left over from when I was a kid; I have great ideas, and I get ’em started and I’m excited about ’em. But when it’s time to finish ’em up, I don’t do so good because by then, I have a new idea. But Marjorie… she’s a closer. She has helped me get organized and round everything up. She said, “Look, I really believe in you and you ought to get this done… and by the way, here’s Jeff Lynn’s phone number!”

    That had a lot to do with me focusing on it and getting it done. In the last three years, I’ve really worked at it and worked with people on it, doing what needed to get done to make a complete statement.

    How did the songs come together? Did you sit with a guitar, at a piano, or what?
    Well, some are definitely keyboard songs and some are definitely guitar songs. It’s amazing for me to watch, too. I don’t know what happens. Usually, I’ll play guitar for a while and then find myself playing some chords over and over and I maybe get a verse or a couple lines of a chorus. I don’t really hear the words right away, but I get a theme, get a couple key lines that are good enough to believe. And I do really well when I write with somebody like Jeff Lynn or bounce it off somebody else. Some songs are real painful births, some just pop out.

    The new record offers some social commentary, some politics…
    Yeah, a little bit of everything. Well, I’ve got a lot to say, and rather than write protest songs or radical stuff, I kind of slip it underneath what the song’s about. One, “The Band Played,” on its surface is a vision of the Titanic going down, but its underlying message is about how we’re standing around like ostriches with our heads in the sand, pretending nothing’s wrong with the world. Meanwhile, the ship’s starting to sink. You know, between the economy and broken government and all, everybody’s kind of gotten complacent, putting up with the status quo. Rather than doing anything about it, we’re just waiting for it to get better, and that’s risky business, because it may not. So I just slipped that message underneath.

    I was also thinking about how, even when it was obvious they were doomed, the orchestra on the Titanic went on deck and played until they couldn’t play any longer. That really hit me in the heart – and gives me shivers. All of that with the underlying theme of a social statement I thought made a pretty good, complete song.

    Does the song suggest any answers?
    I don’t know, it does suggest re-tooling the government and everything. It’s pretty embedded, and that’s part of the problem. In touring and stuff I’ve seen how, between the coasts, it’s pretty bleak. It’s scary to go play a place like Detroit, because I remember Detroit in the ’70s, and it was jumpin’. Now, there’s nobody home. It’s scary.

    So I don’t know… I could probably get into a political rant (laughs), but we don’t have enough time! I could run for President, but I’d rather answer some of your questions (laughs)!

    Analog Man Joe Walsh
    Joe Walsh’s new album, Analog Man, is his first in nearly 20 years.

    Which songs do you think long-time fans will appreciate most?
    I think “Wrecking Ball” came out really good. “Analog Man,” I think, is a pretty good Joe Walsh song. “Lucky That Way,” though it wasn’t intentional, ended up being kind of a sequel to “Life’s Been Good,” with a little Nashville theme underneath it. I’m especially happy with those three.

    Did you do “Funk 50” because there’s some sort of expectation fans have when it comes to your music?
    That’s an interesting story. At the beginning of the last football season, ESPN called me. They have a show called “Sunday NFL Countdown,” and it airs Sunday mornings at 9 o’clock – Chris Berman and the guys. They said, “We want some new music and we’re James Gang fans, so we love ‘Funk 49.’ But we don’t want ‘Funk 49.’ Could you write us something like that?” I thought it would be fun, so I dug out my James Gang albums and studied them, and initially, the song was about a minute long, with no words. It was just for the intro of the show, then coming in and out [of commercial breaks].

    They used it all last season, and I thought it came out really good. It was too short and needed some words, but I had a good time with it, so I put it on the album. It’s still too short – I should’ve written more words. But at least it’s something. And of course, when someone tells you they want “Funk 49,” but not “Funk 49,” what else could I call it? “Funk 50.”

    Which guitars did you use on the album?
    Well, let’s see. There’s some new guitars being made, that Mike Campbell from Tom Petty’s band introduced me to – Duesenbergs. I have a couple of ’em – a Double Cat and a DTV Outlaw. They’re like a Les Paul, but a hollowbody with their own vibrato tailpiece. I’ve got one of the radical ones, and it’s pretty nice. They wind their own pickups, which are great, and record great.

    I also used a Gretsch 6120, I’ve got an old one. Those are great guitars. Something good comes out any time I pick up one of those. I’m superstitious; I think guitars have songs in ’em. I pick one up and something comes out that I hadn’t planned on playing.

    I also used Les Pauls, a smattering of Rickenbackers, Teles and Strats, and a lot of acoustics – mostly Gibson acoustics.

    How about amplifiers?
    Amp-wise, I came across a couple good things. The jury is still out about amp modeling and plug-ins and that sort of stuff, but I’ve plugged direct into the computer and got some okay results. But my favorite amp lately is a Dr. Z Maz 8, which I’ve been playing for a long time. Mike Zaite really makes some great amps, and they’re also great for recording. The Maz 8 is a single EL84 – not two of ’em. And he found these monster EL84s from Russia, one sounds like two! They’re really souped-up.

    The other thing I found is a little Fender modeling amp called an SM-15. It’s got a 10″ speaker. I don’t like modeling amps for recording – they sound good in a room, but when it’s playback time, they sound digital. So I came out of the headphone jack and went into an ART tube preamp and pushed that pretty hard, then put that into the computer, so the computer actually sees tubes, like a buffer. I had really good luck with it.

    Going back to the James Gang days, there’s a bit of folklore about how you tweaked your pickups. What were you doing to them?
    I’d take the covers off… I went back and forth a lot about whether it made any difference or not, and in the end, I decided it did. I also tried screwing the poles all the way down and bringing the pickup as close to the strings as I could – just a quarter-turn below where it would cause the string to ring.

    But you didn’t dig into them at all?
    No, I didn’t re-wire them or anything. Back in those days nobody was, really. Seymour Duncan hadn’t surfaced yet, so whatever was out there was what you got!

    I always felt with a Les Paul that getting the covers off and soldering a little and getting the pickup right up under the strings gave you the most signal.

    This is the first chance we’ve had to let you tell our readers the story about how you sold Jimmy Page his number one guitar, the ’59 Les Paul Standard.
    Well, when Led Zeppelin’s first album came out and was just starting to get airplay, Jimmy was really known predominately for the Yardbirds. But when Led Zeppelin came over to tour, the James Gang opened for them on five or six shows. It was a hard sell because the only thing anybody knew was the Yardbirds, and that Jimmy had a new band. I got to know him better during those shows, and he told me he was kind of tired of playing Telecasters and stuff, and was looking for a Les Paul. In those days, Les Pauls weren’t godawful expensive, they were just kind of hard to find. You had to go into the basements of music stores and pawn shops. I happened to have two, and one I liked better than the other, so I kept my best one and gave him the other, which had a slightly smaller neck.

    What did you get for it?
    I don’t know, 1,500 bucks or something, and I had to fly to New York with it to give it to him, so that was kind of expensive. Anyway, he liked it a lot, and it became, I guess, the one he played on a lot of Led Zeppelin’s music. His number one.

    Turns out it was a good idea to get him one (laughs)!


    This article originally appeared in VG August 2012 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.


  • John Jorgenson

    John Jorgenson

    John Jorgenson
    John Jorgenson. Photo: Ringo Chiu.

    Call it a “Gypsy jazz wall of sound.” John Jorgenson’s new album, Istiqbal Gathering, features the master guitarist backed by the full Orchestra Nashville – strings, woodwinds, brass, even percussion. The result would make Django Reinhardt himself envious.

    For Jorgenson, it all came naturally.

    “Recording solo guitar with a full orchestra is very different than playing with a quintet,” he explains. But with his background in classical music, combined with his experience playing jazz, Jorgenson was uniquely suited to the project. “All my musical training as an orchestral bassoonist and clarinetist helped me to be able to follow and lead the conductor,Paul Gambill.”

    From the Desert Rose Band to the Hellecasters and Elton John, Jorgenson has proven himself a uniquely gifted multi-instrumentalist. Still, this CD posed new challenges.

    “Tempo is a really big issue when dealing with so many musicians with different challenges to playing in tempo together,” he said. “So choosing and holding the right tempo between the soloist, conductor and orchestra players is a challenge. Also, repeatedly playing technically demanding passages can be a test of stamina and mental focus!”

    The album leads off with Jorgenson’s stunning three-movement “Concerto Glasso,” followed by two pieces heightened by the strings of the Turtle Island Quartet; think Duke Ellington combined with Hector Berlioz, flavored by a spicy Eastern European Romany vibe.

    The power of Jorgenson’s composition and guitar is made all the more glorious by the orchestral backing. He recommends this “wall of sound.”

    “It’s an amazing, fantastic feeling to be part of such a large body of talented, skilled people all coming together with the intention of creating something powerful and beautiful. Also, to hear a melody that I composed somewhere off by myself in private being played by such a large ensemble can be overwhelming.”

    Selecting the right guitar sound to work with the orchestra was a special task.

    “There are two guitars that seemed to dominate these recordings. I used my prototype Gitane DG300 signature model. When setting up for the recording, I brought four guitars with me – the DG300 14-fret oval-hole, DG320 14-fret D-hole, Dupont 14-fret D-hole with sound chamber, and a ’39 Selmer 14-fret oval-hole. I played the same passages on each guitar into three mics – a Neumann, RCA ribbon, and Royer ribbon – and then went into the control room to listen to the different guitars. I asked the engineers not to tell me which one I was listening to, and I chose the DG300. The final sound was a combination of the mics.”

    On the final, title track, Jorgenson trades melody lines and harmonies with Alexander Fedoriouk’s cimbalom and David Davidson’s violin to create a musical journey back in time and space. For the track, he was inspired by a special Selmer-style guitar. “I played a beautiful guitar that was built for me by Dave Hodson, the late, great U.K. luthier who I first met in Samois many years ago. It’s a six-string version of the Eddie Freeman Selmer, which is normally a four-string with lighter bracing. It has a big, rich sound, well-suited for solo playing.”

    Throughout, Jorgenson was as selective about his mics as his guitars. He relied on his vintage RCA ribbon mic and a Sony C38 large-diaphragm condenser mic run through a Groove Tubes Vipre preamp. He also used an onboard AT Pro70 mic, which he explains was “…mixed in a little for some controllable ‘woof’.”

    The ribbon mics were ideal for the acoustic jazz guitars. “I found the tones were very natural and balanced, and I had little to no EQ’ing to do. I guess this was a ‘less is more’ situation, and the outcome is the most live and natural-sounding of my CDs.”

    Jorgenson also approached both composing and soloing in a different mindset when working with the orchestra.

    “Knowing the intention of a piece is to be performed by an orchestra definitely takes my mind in a different direction when creating a piece,” he says. “The improvisational element is lessened, and the form and development of themes takes on more importance, as does the orchestration and overall arc of a three-movement piece, like the ‘Concerto Glasso’.”

    Writing for cimbalom was also a new experience. Jorgenson’s co-composer on Istiqbal Gathering, Carl Marsh, got a chart of the instrument’s string layout so they could see what was technically possible. “Carl created the beautiful cadenza, and I was able to refer Alexander to various things he played on his own CD to create the other parts.”

    For Jorgenson, the Istiqbal Gathering project with the Orchestra Nashville signifies several dreams coming true.

    “I really thought that After You’ve Gone [from 1988] would be my only album in that style, and recorded it mostly to sort of recap what had been going on musically in my life for the previous six years. I had no idea at all that the interest in Django and his music would grow to the point it is now, which has given me the chance to tour full-time playing Gypsy jazz!”


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

  • Vox Pacemaker V-3

    Vox Pacemaker V-3

    1965 Vox Pacemaker1965 Vox Pacemaker v-3
    Preamp tubes: three Mullard ECC83 (12AX7)
    Output tubes: two Mullard EL84, cathode-biased, no negative feedback
    Rectifier: Mullard EZ81
    Controls: Volume, Treble, Bass, Speed, Depth
    Speaker: gold 10″ Oxford “Vox Bulldog”
    Output: approximately 17 watts RMS

    No doubt the mere appearance of that Vox logo and the diamond grillecloth beneath it has already set your heart palpitating. Let us add that this is indeed a genuine Vox combo from 1965 with two EL84 output tubes and an EZ81 rectifier, then top it off with the news that we found this amp for sale in excellent, all-original condition at one of our favorite local hole-in-the-wall guitar stores with a price tag listing $499. Ready for the defibrillator yet?

    But before we charge up the paddles and shout “clear!,” we can probably bring you back down to earth with the addendum that this is not, in fact, the British-made Vox AC15 over which you were already beginning to salivate mentally, but a U.S.-made Vox Pacemaker V-3, manufactured in California by Thomas Organ. And although that price is perhaps toward the bargain end of the spectrum for these amps, it’s well within the expected range.

    The Vox logo’s transition from British glory to Californian infamy is still something of a mystery to many amp-o-philes, and the real story tells a rather tragic tale. After signing a distribution deal with Vox manufacturer JMI in 1964, Thomas Organ found itself – in the wake of The Beatles’ massive success – unable to meet demand for British JMI-made Vox amplifiers. To speed the flow, in early ’65 JMI started shipping only parts (completed chassis and speakers rather than complete amps) to Thomas Organ. Even then, the California company couldn’t meet demand, and began sourcing parts to assemble its own renditions. As the snowball tumbled further, there ensued what amounted to a hostile takeover of Vox/JMI by Thomas Organ. According to Vox Amplifiers: The JMI Years by Jim Elyea (as told to Elyea by former Vox executive Reg Clark), the previous year, JMI founder Tom Jennings sold his controlling interest in the company in order to meet the need for break-neck expansion, and when Thomas Organ asked for the rights to use the Vox name in North American, Jennings, despite his vehement objections, was unable to stop the deal from going through. The result was a range of amps like this late ’65 Pacemaker, a sheep in wolf’s clothing, with no real connection to the grand roots of the brand other than the name and the grillecloth.

    For all that, this is still a rare amp, and a piece of rock-and-roll history. The Pacemaker segued through several variations from its introduction in 1965 until its demise around ’71, but the tube version – as we have here – was only produced in ’65, perhaps into early ’66. The first rendition was fitted with 10″ Celestion speakers, initially sold to Thomas Organ by JMI, then purchased directly from Celestion once the Californians figured out it would be cheaper to bypass the middle man. Our rendition of the amp from later in the year had the gold Vox Bulldog 10″ speaker made by Oxford in Chicago, which also supplied Fender and several other manufacturers.

    We can already see it’s a smaller amp than the JMI-built AC15 – a 1×10″ combo rather than a 1×12″ or 2×12″ – and, other than in the two-EL84 and EZ81 output-tube and rectifier complement, the Pacemaker really is different in just about every way. It has three inputs, but only one channel, powered by half an ECC83 dual-triode (a.k.a. 12AX7) rather than the EF86 pentode that served as the beating heart of the British classic. The Pacemaker does benefit from an active “cathode-follower” tone stack that’s not unlike the Top Boost circuit of the AC30, with Treble and Bass controls, powered by a second ECC83. But it uses a much cruder phase inverter circuit, the cathodyne or “split-phase” inverter more familiar from many smaller and mid-sized tweed Fender amps and requiring only half a tube, rather than the elegant long-tailed pair of the AC15 and most large amps post-1960. Another ECC83 powers its tremolo effect, with Speed and Depth controls. One surprise bonus though; our Pacemaker stands replete with a full set of Mullard tubes, the bottles it was born with (Thomas Organ must have bought a big box of these and was still feeding off them). And bonus number two: it really sounds pretty damn good, even if it’s no AC15 (and would sound significantly better through a decent 12″ speaker).

    Despite Tom Jennings’ objections to Thomas Organ taking over the manufacturing reins, it transpires – according to Elyea’s book – that Thomas sent prototypes of these tube models to JMI for evaluation by the British engineers, and modified them according to notes supplied after such testing. Furthermore, JMI chief engineer Dick Denney even visited Thomas Organ’s California factory to test the post-modification Pacemaker (and others) and offer further comments and final approval (kind of like dancing on your own grave, eh?). That said, the guts of this Pacemaker look nothing like the inside of a JMI chassis of the same era. Built rather minimalistically – almost crudely – on a series of scattered individual tag strips, the Pacemaker looks more like the work of several other C-list brands. And yet, it functions just fine.

    The Pacemaker’s bigger sibling from Thomas Organ, the Cambridge Reverb V-3, has a very similar circuit and tube complement, but uses the more virtuous long-tailed-pair PI for greater headroom and fidelity.

    In ’66, Thomas Organ replaced the all-tube V-3 with the all-transistor V-1021 Pacemaker, one of the solidstate amps that led thousands of young Beatles wannabes in the U.S. to exclaim, “Why the hell don’t I sound like George and John through this thing!” Nevertheless, adding insult to injury, the transistorized ’66 Pacemaker cost a full $20 more than its tube predecessor of ’65, at $149.95.

    Crank up the Pacemaker V-3, though, and it has that crisp, slightly glassy EL84 sizzle and crunch that does at least hint at an AC15 (as virtually every two-EL84-based amp does at times), and plenty of juicy sag when you push it. With the right guitar and the right attitude, it can almost tease out an accurate “Day Tripper,” “I’m Down,” or “Ticket to Ride” tone… or at least something better than your buddy in the garage down the road is getting with his ’66 model.


    Special thanks to Voxshowroom.com.


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


  • Buck Owens and The Buckaroos

    Buck Owens and The Buckaroos

    Photos: Felix Adamo/Bakersfield Californian.

    Buck Owens’ track to stardom had an unorthodox start and believe it or not, his singing didn’t launch that journey as much as his guitar skills; it started when another singer needed a lead guitarist on short notice.

    With his second Capitol recording session looming in September, 1953, Tommy Collins, a cast member of Southern California’s “Town Hall Party” TV show, was up a creek. His buddy, Ferlin Husky, who played the lead on Collins’ first session, was busy promoting his own hit single. Then Collins remembered playing the Blackboard, a club in Bakersfield, and the hot guitarist in the house band; Bill Woods & the Orange Blossom Playboys. The recollection brought him to Buck Owens’ modest Bakersfield home one evening. Always up for extra income and opportunities, Buck agreed to play the session in L.A.
    On the afternoon of September 8, at Capitol’s Melrose Avenue studios, Owens unleashed sharp, fluid Tele licks behind Collins’ vocals on four numbers, including the novelty “You Better Not Do That.” During an instrumental break in the song, he swapped licks with fiddler Jelly Sanders. Collins’ faith in Buck was dead-on, and the song became his first hit.

    People around Bakersfield already respected Owens as a picker. Now he’d been heard by people of consequence, who could open even bigger doors. He still had ample dues to pay and plenty to learn, but everything Owens became as a singer, guitarist, businessman and later, household word, began with the licks he played that day. The story of Buck the guitarist, and how his instrumental skills defined his songwriting, the talents of protégé and musical alter ego Don Rich, and the sound of his legendary band, the Buckaroos, has never been examined in-depth. Until now.

    The Owens family was musical before Alvis Edgar Owens, Jr. was born in Sherman, Texas, in 1929. He was later self-nicknamed “Buck” in honor of the family mule. His mother, Maicie, played piano, his dad played harmonica, and two uncles picked guitar. The family left Texas in 1937 to escape the crop-wrecking drought that created the Dust Bowl. Their new home was Mesa, Arizona, just outside Phoenix. In addition to working day jobs, Buck was playing mandolin with singer-guitarist Theryl Ray Britten in the duo Buck and Britt, where he got his first performing and radio experience. Learning guitar, steel guitar, and even saxophone, he graduated to a larger band, playing an eight-string Rickenbacker steel with Mac’s Skillet Lickers when he wasn’t driving a truck. That’s where he met future wife Bonnie Campbell, the band’s vocalist, who he married in 1948.

    Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys, a particular favorite of Buck’s, were enormously popular in Southwest dancehalls. So it was little surprise that Playboys country-jazz wizard Jimmy Wyble became an early hero, followed in the late 1940s by Merle Travis and in the early ’50s by Jimmy Bryant. In May, 1951, Buck, amicably separated from Bonnie, relocated to Bakersfield. He’d been there before, when he drove a produce truck and did migrant farm work in the area.

    He came to town toting a Gibson L-7 archtop with an attached pickup and joined a band with steel guitarist Dusty Rhodes. A few months later he moved to the Orange Blossom Playboys at the Blackboard. With a business card declaring they played “Country music, rhythm and blues, rhumbas, pop and polkas” – in other words, dance music. Buck had to work to broaden his repertoire, later explaining, “If you was gonna make a living out in the West you had to play dance music.”

    After trying a Telecaster belonging to singer Billy Mize, Buck bought one originally owned by Bakersfield musician and recording studio owner Lewis Talley. And after Woods’ singer quit, he assigned vocals to Buck – more invaluable career training. He’d work with Woods for the next several years while also leading his own band, the Schoolhouse Playboys.

    Buck Owens at his first “comback” concert, at the Bakersfield Convention Center in 1987. This show marked the first time Dwight Yoakam featured Owens as his guest. Photos: Felix Adamo/Bakersfield Californian.

    Collins wasn’t the only one impressed by Buck’s work on “You Better Not Do That.” Ken Nelson, Capitol’s legendary country and pop producer, typically used Jimmy Bryant (and usually Speedy West) as sidemen on Capitol’s L.A. country sessions. He liked what he heard from this unknown picker, later declaring that “(Buck) had tremendous rhythm. And he had this little style that set Tommy off, (on) the introductions usually. He had these introductions (he’d play) on his guitar… Buck didn’t quite play like Jimmy Bryant (who) was more of an ad-libber than Buck.” Nelson pegged Buck’s stinging, rhythmic technique and sharp, ringing tonality. Over time, he found Buck easier to work with than the brilliant but often obstreperous Bryant, who often tried Nelson’s patience.

    Buck still spent most of his time playing the Blackboard, but when Nelson called, he headed for Hollywood, aware he was actually learning the recording process from the ground up. It often went beyond merely picking his Tele. He’d fetch coffee, strum acoustic guitar, ukulele – even pound on a pillow if Nelson thought that sound would enhance a record. That versatility gave him the skills to play dead-string rhythm behind masterful honky-tonk vocalists like Faron Young, Jean Shepard or Wynn Stewart or to insert a sharp, rocking break as he did on Stewart’s doo-wopish 1957 Capitol recording “I Wish I Could Say The Same.” He recalled a dizzying array of sessions. “I played on a lot of Gene Vincent’s stuff, and I played on, I guess, practically all of the Tommy Sands stuff.”

    Occasionally, something different materialized. Nelson also produced Stan Freberg for Capitol. Freberg’s specialty was satirical, barbed spoofs of other 1950s hits. Openly scornful of teenage music, in 1956 he created mocking renditions of Lonnie Donegan’s skiffle hit “Rock Island Line” and Elvis’ “Heartbreak Hotel.” Buck played acoustic on the former and on “Heartbreak,” mimicked Scotty Moore’s echo-drenched solo while Freberg mockingly imitated Elvis’ vocal. “We worked at 6 o’clock at night until 4 o’clock the next morning on those two songs,” Buck said. “I got $110. That’s what I made all week workin’ at the Blackboard.”

    Certainly, Buck didn’t share Freberg’s anti-rock bias. Along with Bob Wills and Hank Williams, Buck’s heroes included Elvis, Little Richard, and Chuck Berry. While recording his first solo country material for the tiny L.A.-based Pep Records in 1956 (including “Sweethearts in Heaven” and “There Goes My Love”), he cut the rockabilly tunes “Hot Dog” and “Rhythm and Booze.” He remembered that in Bakersfield’s country scene, “If you even got caught smilin’ over at the rockabilly folks, the Elvis folks or any of that, you was out,” he said. To avoid detection, his lead guitarist was ex-Maddox Brothers/Rose sideman Roy Nichols, a future member of Merle Haggard’s Strangers. The Pep single appeared under the name “Corky Jones.”

    Top country acts who played the Blackboard were also impressed by Buck. Joe and Rose Lee Maphis wrote “Dim Lights, Thick Smoke (And Loud, Loud Music)” after watching him onstage. Columbia recording artists Johnny Bond and Rose Maddox took up his cause. Buck repeatedly badgered Nelson to sign him as a vocalist, but the producer inexplicably blew off the idea until early 1957, when he heard that Columbia wanted Buck. His Capitol debut proved less than auspicious as Nelson, in a rare lapse of judgment, surrounded him with slick, almost surreal doo-wop accompaniment. Disgusted, and unsure he had any future in recording, in January, 1958, Owens relocated to Tacoma, Washington.

    That two-year stay paid dividends, stimulating the business instincts that later took him beyond filthy rich. He bought part of tiny KAYE radio in Tacoma and worked various on- and off-air jobs to learn the ins and outs of broadcasting. He played clubs with his band, the Bar-K Gang, hosted the “Bar-K Ranch” TV show that occasionally featured local housewife and aspiring singer/songwriter Loretta Lynn. The band recorded under various names for tiny local labels but, due to his Capitol contract, Buck’s name never appeared except as composer of some songs. His Tele twang, however, was undeniable.

    His backup band included guitarist Nokie Edwards, who went from Buck sideman to what evolved into the Ventures. Buck’s fiddler was 17-year-old Donald Eugene Ulrich. Born in 1941 in Olympia, Washington, he’d studied violin since grade school. “Don was a helluva guy,” Nelson said. “His mother and father brought him down to the (Capitol) studio when he was pretty young,” before Don ever met Buck.

    Buck, like other late-’50s singers, embraced the honky tonk shuffle style Ray Price created on his 1956 hit “Crazy Arms.” Behind Buck, Don emulated the “lonesome fiddle” style, another trademark of Price’s sound. Nelson allowed Buck to record that style at the next session and it brought forth his first national hits with “Second Fiddle” and “Under Your Spell Again.” The only guitar presence was legendary West Coast pedal steel innovator Ralph Mooney, whose keening, trebly style helped define what became the “Bakersfield Sound.” Decades later, “Moon” became a lynchpin of Waylon Jennings’ Waylors.

    Those first hits rejuvenated Buck, who in 1960 sold his Tacoma interests and returned to Bakersfield. After a brief stab at college, Ulrich, now calling himself Don Rich, arrived in Bakersfield with his new wife, Marlene. He and Buck hit the road, but at the time, they weren’t toting Teles. To cut costs, Buck had them touring in an old Ford with acoustic guitars and Don’s fiddle, playing clubs with whatever musicians were available. Eventually, after moving to Telecasters and amps, Buck started teaching Don lead guitar, freeing him to focus on singing.

    Buck with Don Rich in the 1960s. Photo courtesy Buck Owens Production Co., Inc.

    “When I first met Don, he played only fiddle,” Buck explained in 1992. He played the guitar a little bit, but not a lot. And by the time we got far along, (he) had learned everything I knew and more, too. He wanted to more and more play the guitar. It just kind of happened that way. There wasn’t a conscious effort to do away with the fiddle. It’s just that Don couldn’t play ’em both at once.”

    When in town to record, the pair occasionally helped Ken Nelson with other Capitol sessions. On one 1961 date they backed Bakersfield honky tonk singer Al Brumley, Jr., whose father was a renowned country-gospel songwriter and wrote the standards “Turn Your Radio On“ and “I’ll Fly Away.” Al’s brother, Tom, played pedal steel on the session.

    Tired of potluck backup bands, Buck started forming his own in 1962. The early lineup was fluid; on rare occasions, Ralph Mooney augmented the Buckaroos onstage before Buck hired his own steel player, Jay McDonald. Merle Haggard, a local ex-con trying to kick-start his own musical career, played bass for two weeks, but before leaving suggested that Buck call the band the Buckaroos. After bassist Kenny Pierce abruptly left in ’63, Rich quickly recommended a replacement – Doyle Holly, a former oil field worker who sang and played with Bakersfield bands and toured with Joe and Rose Lee Maphis. Don took over lead guitar on shows and sessions, while Buck began looking for his own sound, beyond the shuffles.

    He first dabbled with a new style on his 1961 hit “You’re For Me” and as 1963 approached, he refined the style, later dubbed the “freight train” sound. “I always loved music that had lots of beat and always wanted to sound like a locomotive comin’ right through the front room.” He knew where it came from. I saw Bob Wills so many times, he was really accessible here in California. I think my influences were the early rock with the driving beat and Bob Wills for the dance beat and the music.”

    Don had truly come into his own as a guitarist by 1963, when he played lead on “Act Naturally,” the hit that established Buck and the freight-train style. A perfect performance vocally and instrumentally, it launched Buck’s seven-year string of 20 #1 singles. More importantly, while it showcased Buck’s vocal, Don’s simple, twangy breaks were the perfect foil, demonstrating how well “The Chief” had taught him. When the Beatles recorded their 1965 cover version, George Harrison simply copied Don.

    The aggressively twang-heavy, string-bending Buckaroo sound was unlike anything coming out of Nashville. Incorporating the most elemental aspects rock and western swing, it was a minimalist, cutting-edge contrast with the slick “Nashville Sound” designed to attract adult pop music fans to country. When all that twanging started to play havoc with everyone’s strings, Buck devised a simple solution, one that gave the new sound a robust texture.

    “You gotta remember, the reason those guitars sounded like that in those days is because we had (steel guitar player) Jay McDonald, and he had this old Fender (model 1000) and was always breakin’ the high strings. In those days, there weren’t all those (light-gauge strings). So I came up with the idea (to tune) down a half a tone. And that added to the fat sound of the bass strings. It worked, so we didn’t keep breakin’ the strings. But in later years we tuned it back up.”

    As “Act Naturally” raced up the charts toward #1 in November, 1963, McDonald quit. At the time, Tom Brumley co-owned a homebuilding business in Austin, Texas. “I hadn’t played for a year. I’d been buildin’ houses and more or less thought I was out of the music business. I never thought I would have a career there. Lo and behold, the phone rang one day, and it was Buck.” He wanted Brumley to replace McDonald. Ecstatic at the chance to return to professional music, he packed his car but left his steel behind.

    “The only thing I brought out to Bakersfield was my ’59 Bassman amp which I still have. I used that until (Fender) gave us Twins in late ’64 with JBLs, but I used a Fender 1000, and Buck said, ‘Don’t worry about it. Fender will give you a new one, so just leave it.’ I had a load going out anyway. I thought I’d have a brand new Fender 1000 when I got there.” He also assumed there’d be extensive rehearsals.

    Not quite. “The first time I played with Buck was live onstage in a big club in L.A. when I had to back up Rose Maddox first. And that was an exciting deal because I didn’t get to see my guitar until an hour before gig time.” The steel was not only not factory fresh; it was McDonald’s old one – now considerably worse for wear. Brumley opened the case to find the Fender 1000 with its strings torn off, adding, “All the cables were loose underneath and one pedal had busted off. So me and Don got on it, got strings on it and I got two pedals workin’ and away we went.”

    On January 28, 1964, Brumley – still using the trashed Fender – did his first recording with Buck at the Capitol Tower. “I cut ‘Together Again’ with that same (guitar), two pedals and that was it.” Though he hadn’t touched his steel in a year, Brumley had no trouble acclimating himself. “The first I did with Buck was the ‘Together Again’ session, and I did ‘Bud’s Bounce.’ He asked me to do an instrumental… Some of the things we never heard until we got in the studio – in fact, most of ’em. We never had one rehearsal with Buck.

    “Buck never hardly played any lead guitar,” he adds. “He just played rhythm and he might twin (harmony) with Don on some things, but Don usually carried all the lead. Buck might play a polka he wrote or something, but about all I remember Buck playin’ was just rhythm.” Buck recalled them playing twin leads on “Love’s Gonna Live Here,” “My Heart Skips A Beat” and “Hello Trouble,” adding, “We used to play twin guitars on things because we didn’t have the facilities for the big overdub, in those days.”

    Buck always emphasized simplicity to the band, Brumley says. “Buck always said, ‘Just play something simple, something you can play the first time.’ And that was his theory and sometimes the first take or two’s got a little magic to it. You keep messin’ around with it you might lose it, you know?” In the studio, he added, “He never once told me or Don what to play. We just played what we felt.”

    Lower tunings and the corresponding looser feel were, Brumley adds, “a good idea. The same gauge strings in E and (lower tuning) made the pedals easier to push (with) less string breakage. I still use the same gauge strings when I tune to E. When I quit Buck (and) went back to E it took me a long time to get (used to) that feel.”

    Those tuning changes remained part of Buck’s mystique long after he abandoned them. In the late ’80s, touring with Dwight Yoakam in the wake of their hit duet “Streets of Bakersfield,” Buck explained, “Pete Anderson was askin’ me who came up with that idea. And I said, ‘I came up with the idea,’ and he said it was really a brilliant move.”

    Today, Anderson remains impressed by the synergy of Buck and Don. “They loved the treble,” he explained. “You’ve got to acquiesce; those two guys… you listen to those records, you can barely hear the bass. The harmonies are crystalline and bright, the guitars are ringin’, and even Brumley’s steel is very bright, (They were) making records for AM radio.”

    In today’s world of FM and satellite radio, it’s hard to realize that 40 years ago, most music radio, particularly country radio, was AM. In ’92, Buck described how he carefully tailored his records to stand out. “When you played (me) on AM it sounds fine. And it doesn’t sound so bassy (with) all the sounds rumbling around in there. We took advantage of the AM situation. I had less bass and more high-end. That made (my singles) sound cleaner than the others.” Ken Nelson agreed. “We had some little speakers, and all the years I recorded, from about ’65 on, we always had (car) speakers that sat on top of the console and (we’d) punch it up in mono so you got some idea of what it sounded like.”

    “The mix was nothing like the tone we (recorded) with,” Brumly adds. “(Buck) went in and put that midrange in there and took the bottom-end out where it cut through the radio at any volume. You could turn (the radio) down and still it would cut through.” All this brought curiosity from within the radio industry. And Buck remembered one inquiry with amusement. “People always want to think there’s something mysterious. I remember some disc jockey from Ohio wrote me a letter, asking did we have some kind of little black box out here that made the songs and the record sound so clean and clear.”

    Buck in 2005, surrounded by a few wood-and-wire friends. Photo: Sandra Romanini Tilbury, courtesy Buck Owens Production Co., Inc.

    1964 was also the year that drummer Willie Cantu joined, and Buck and the band officially endorsed Fender. The company featured them in print ads and gave them their pick of product, including the Twin Reverbs with JBLs they favored. But when it came to guitars, Buck said things occasionally got awkward. “Every time they’d come out with a new guitar, the Jaguar and all those, they’d want us to take ’em out and play ’em. And we’d try. But we always wound up goin’ back to the same old Teles. And so that used to dismay ’em some, because (they were) havin’ their product shown off everywhere we was gonna play. They made some beautiful looking guitars, it’s just – they didn’t have it like the old Teles had it.”

    Brumley agreed. “You couldn’t beat a Telecaster. Buck and Don both, they couldn’t afford not to use Telecasters. It was their sound.” He also remembered their onstage setup. “Actually, they plugged into the same amplifier all the time, that Twin. Don’s fiddle and guitar was in one channel and Buck was in the other channel. Don had an amp by himself in the studio ’cause Buck usually didn’t play on sessions.”

    Buck may have limited his picking, but he recorded enough guitar instrumentals over the next few albums to later fill a 1968 anthology, The Guitar Player. He considered his playing style a major component in the melodies of his original numbers. “I’ve just got these twisted, warped notes in my head that came along with ‘Love’s Gonna Live Here’ and ‘Tiger By The Tail’ and all of those things that are different than I think anyone else had ever presented. The notes, I don’t know if they’ve ever been played, and these funny little things I found on the guitar years and years ago. And all the rest of the stuff is just kinda spinoffs… I wrote songs that sometimes fit the guitar parts and vice versa.”

    So far as string preferences, Buck declared he “used a regular gauge.” Terry Christofferson, Buckaroo lead and pedal steel guitarist from 1975 to the present, confirms that, explaining that in later years, Buck used sets with his high E at .012, heavy for his playing style. In 1988, Buck declared that he favored “a medium-gauge pick. I always went more toward a limber pick because I felt it gave a cleaner sound and it had more brilliance to it. The thick pick used to kinda give off a kind of a thick sound, and I wanted to get away from that.”

    Pete Anderson marvels at the virtuosity displayed by Buck and Don. “What was really cool about them (was) they weren’t classic country pickers. They were kind of makin’ up their own s***. It was new and it was a little more blues-based, a little more pentatonic, a little more open-string ringing on the low-end and really interesting fingerings like on ‘Buckaroo’ or ‘Tiger By The Tail,’ which is a major rocking of the third to the second, which is very unique and it’s not easy to do. And then they turn around and play that dominant in-your-face V chord, rock it, and then come back. Some of the low-string stuff plus they were tuned a half step down so they were doing E flat or A flat. To me, there was nobody really doing exactly that and partially that combined with the Telecaster combined with the Twin (Reverb), combined with Buck and Don singing together, that was the whole package. It wasn’t Jimmy Bryant – they all loved him. It wasn’t Merle Travis, but there was more an element of Chuck Berry in that it was minor pentatonics and playing off of rock chords.”

    As Owens’ popularity surged, he made a point of avoiding Nashville. Vast differences existed between his guitar-driven, austere Bakersfield sound, emulated by Merle Haggard and Wynn Stewart, and the politics of Nashville’s music industry. In the ’60s, Owens was outspoken in his disdain for Nashville, and wasn’t afraid to make it public. “I didn’t like the music in Nashville… syrupy and so contrived. And I disliked the fact that most of the musicians that had their own bands could not (record with) their own bands. They wouldn’t let ’em.”

    The Buckaroos hit the stage with a well-rounded show. For a time, their comedy moments included an affectionate Beatles spoof (Owens and Rich were fans). At other times, the gear itself provided laughs, like when their amps picked up police calls mid-show. Brumley never forgot it. “Back in those days you didn’t have the filters we have now. We stopped sometimes to listen to what they’re sayin’. Onstage we had a lot of fun, and the people knew that. We had a blast!”

    March 25, 1966, brought their now-legendary Carnegie Hall concert, recorded and released on Capitol, still in print today. Forty years later, Brumley still marvels at the outcome. “There was no fixin’ on that whole album, and I don’t think there’s a mistake on it. We were used to that, which was good for us and made us really get on the stick. It was a habit – go in the studio, play something, and get it nailed.”

    Sometimes, Buck wanted different sounds. Before recording “Open Up Your Heart” in 1966, he had Brumley call in James Burton. “I asked him what he thought Don would think. And he said ‘Oh, Don’s okay.’ James came and played. He got up in a chair and was just blowin’ and playin’ such a great thing. And Buck started laughin’ right in the middle of the take. James could never do that (solo) again. It was one of those things you gotta leave alone when you got somethin’ going.”

    Buck’s Telecaster with custom crushed mirror-gold finish. Photo: Felix Adamo/Bakersfield Californian.

    1966 was also the year Buck and the band began taping “The Buck Owens Ranch,” a nationally syndicated half-hour TV show in Oklahoma City, with guest stars. His albums always featured instrumentals and vocals from the Buckaroos, but starting in ’66, Capitol began releasing Buckaroos solo LPs. They’d eventually issue a total of 11 between 1966 and ’71. Rich was the constant on these albums, which showcased his vocals, guitar, and fiddle, Brumley’s instrumentals, Holly’s vocals, and an occasional drum solo. Later albums reflected the band’s changing lineup.

    The freight-train rhythm had driven Owens’ hits for five years as 1968 rolled around, and he was chafing to broaden his style, which he did with such un-Buck-like hits as the Ray Charles-inspired ballad “I’ve Got You On My Mind Again” and “Who’s Gonna Mow Your Grass,” the latter featuring Rich fuzztone guitar. Neither Rich nor Buck’s fans had any problems with the stylistic changes, they continued buying records and concert tickets. But Brumley, who loved the classic sound, had reservations.

    “I thought Buck had a great style, and it would have endured if we’d just kept it within the band. I didn’t like to see him change like that.” Ken Nelson later expressed similar doubts to Buck as he became more enamored with progressive rock ideas, explaining, “He was trying to bring his music up to date, to what he thought was ‘the thing.’ But if you’re not yourself, it’s no good.” Naturally, Buck saw it differently.

    “I got to realizing that I wanted to record, wanted to experiment, wanted to have fun. Doing those same old songs the same old way – it was just a time in my life and I said ‘I think it’s time for me to have some fun.’’’

    Road-weary after five years, Brumley was ready to settle in Bakersfield, where he’d started a steel-guitar business. So he gave notice in December of ’68 and recommended L.A.-based Jay Dee Maness as his replacement. Maness joined in early ’69, but Brumley was far from finished. He went on to join longtime Buck fan Rick Nelson’s pioneering country rock unit the Stone Canyon Band, but sums up his Buckaroo days with pride and gratitude.

    “I owe Buck a lot for getting me back in this business, and I know I probably would never have had another chance if I hadn’t taken that (job) with Buck. I was building houses, but all I could think about was playin’. That was a blessing to me, for him to think of me and call me.”

    Maness was a Buckaroo when they played the London Palladium on March 9, 1969, recorded by Capitol. From the live album, Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode” became another #1 single, with a Don Rich guitar interlude Owens called “the greatest live chorus on guitar I ever heard played on anything like that. It’s totally untouched, and Don absolutely captured it. He really could never duplicate that. He didn’t like to duplicate things. It’s got the tone – a terrific ride – I just loved it to death.”

    Bucks ’50s Fender Telecaster. Photo: Felix Adamo/Bakersfield Californian.

    The fall of 1969 launched Owens on a journey that eventually made him a household name when he and Roy Clark started co-hosting “Hee-Haw,” a Nashville-based variety show CBS selected to replace the politically controversial “Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour,” which reflected America’s volatile divisions over Vietnam and the counterculture. Soon after the debut of “Hee-Haw,” Buck started playing a red, white, and blue acoustic guitar.

    He had a reason. In that era, not unlike today, country singers recorded fist-shaking, flag-waving songs attacking liberal-minded hippies and the anti-war movement. Owens, a self-described superpatriot, knew his fans and realized a growing number came from the counterculture, partly due to his influence on the emerging country-rock movement. By letting his instrument speak for him, he could articulate his patriotism without attacking or offending anyone, regardless of their politics.

    As for that first guitar, he remembered that “Semie Moseley… actually put the first one together, then later on, we painted the fiddle and the bass and everything else – even the electric. People used to make ’em in red, white and blue, send ’em to me and hope I was gonna play ’em.” The popularity of “Hee-Haw” gave the instrument such exposure that Buck had instrument makers bidding to license the design for mass sales. By then he was a highly successful businessman who owned a booking agency, music publishing company, and four radio stations (two in Bakersfield, two in Phoenix), and he loved the “art of the deal.” He chose Chicago-based Harmony.

    “We had a lot of arguments because they told me they was gonna sell the guitar – if I wanted ’em to – for $99, and they’d send me a $2.50 (royalty). I said, ‘Whoa, hold it! Hold it! What’s this?’ So we finally made a deal that I’d try it for six months and if I didn’t like it, I’d be out of it. Well, the very first month, they sent me $15,000. They forgot to tell me that Sears was gonna distribute ’em. So I said ‘Oh, ho! Oh, yes! Well, I am very happy, let’s go forward!’”

    Maness was gone before the end of  ’69, but the Buckaroos continued evolving. They doubled for a time as the “Hee-Haw” house band and Doyle Holly moved to rhythm guitar when Owens added bassist Doyle Curtsinger. Instead of a new steel guitarist, he hired keyboard player/songwriter Jim Shaw. By then, the expanded touring show included both the Hagers and singer Susan Raye, also “Hee Haw” regulars.

    Holly left in 1971 and went on to enjoy several solo hit singles including “Lila” and “Queen of the Silver Dollar” in 1973. The steel sound returned when Jerry Brightman joined in ’72, the year of Buck’s last #1 solo single, the ballad “Made In Japan.” Several more Top 10 hits followed, mostly novelties like “Big Game Hunter” and “On the Cover of the Music City News,” a 1974 play on Dr. Hook’s “Cover Of the Rolling Stone,” the lyrics adjusted by Buck and Shaw.

    But none of that mattered on the morning of July 17, 1974, as unspeakable tragedy hit Buck Owens square in the face. Don Rich, riding his motorcycle after dark to meet his family for a morning fishing date, died when the bike hit a center highway divider. His family was devastated, but the loss of his friend and collaborator shattered Buck, sending him into an emotional freefall that led to previously unimaginable moves. When his Capitol contract expired in ’75, he signed with Warner Brothers and amazed everyone by recording the soft country/pop material he’d mocked – in Nashville, nonetheless. Ironically, his sole big hit on Warner Brothers, a 1979 duet with Emmylou Harris on “Play ‘Together Again’ Again,” revisited Buck’s classic sound.

    The Buckaroo guitar lineup changed again in early ’75. Jerry Brightman was still playing steel and the personable Don Lee played lead guitar. When Brightman departed that April, Terry Christofferson, who doubled on guitar and steel, replaced him. “When I first started with Buck, he wasn’t playing much guitar because there were two of us playing guitar at the time, (me and) Don Lee,” he said.

    Playing dance music in the early 1950s at the Blackboard: Buck with his first Tele, fiddler Oscar Whittington, Bill Woods, and pianist Lawrence Williams. The band also included drummer Ray Heath. Photo courtesy Buck Owens Production Co., Inc.

    After Lee departed, Christofferson began doubling steel and lead, adding that “Buck found out I was more of a guitar player than I was a steel player.” In 1984, he switched to a Steinberger. Sitting the tiny body on his lap as he sat behind the steel onstage, he could easily and quickly switch instruments. “And I found that it stays in tune a lot better than any other guitar I’ve ever had. Outside of havin’ it refretted once, I still play it, and it’s the only thing I’d ever play.”

    By 1980, Buck’s equilibrium had returned. In ’92, he reflected that “Don and I made a sort of synergy where one and one don’t make two, the two of us together made three. He was half a generation younger than I was. There was never anything like that happened to me before or since. That’s the way I’ll always remember him. I finally got at peace with that.”

    Devoting more time to his radio stations and other businesses, as well as local charities and “Hee-Haw,” he played fewer shows but retained the Buckaroos in other major roles in his Bakersfield organization, available to pick whenever needed. And over time, he concluded his pickin’ and grinnin’ comedic fame on “Hee-Haw” was eclipsing his monumental musical legacy, which led to his leaving the show in 1986. By then, he was resigning himself to the belief his recording days and stardom were past. Would the real pickin’ and grinnin’ he and Don did be remembered? That, too, was up in the air.

    And then, everything changed.

    The bland, syrupy Urban Cowboy-style country of the early ’80s gave way to a new breed of singers raised on rock and classic country singers including Buck. These “new traditionalists” included Vince Gill, Keith Whitley, Ricky Van Shelton, as well as Randy Travis and Buck disciple Dwight Yoakam, who sang his praises onstage. They two met in Bakersfield in 1987. Yoakam got him performing again, and in ’88, their revival of Buck’s 1971 single “Streets of Bakersfield” returned Buck to #1 one last time.

    Before hitting the road with Dwight and his band, including Pete Anderson, Buck reached out to his past. “I called Don’s wife Marlene up in Reno and asked her to send me his old guitar that he played with me all those years and in memory of Don.” That old silver-sparkle Tele became a talisman, one symbolic way of maintaining Don’s presence amid a revival he never expected. Three solo albums for Capitol followed, then in the early ’90s he again slowed down, doing limited dates with the Buckaroos.

    Occasionally, Buck soloed onstage and when he did, Christofferson was amazed. “He played like he meant it. He was aggressive and every note was thrown out there whether you liked it or not. That’s the way he played. He didn’t hold back. He wasn’t afraid to just get down on the lower strings and open strings and make use of them. A lot of pickers, they get up higher on the neck or they’re more into more melodic things. He just liked to get down and play the good open (strings). They’d ring more. They’d ring longer.Anytime, before we went on the road, we put new strings on the guitars,” he adds. “We’d go out for four or five days at a time then fly back home. Each time we’d start out with new strings. Anytime we did a TV show or a recording session we’d always have new strings put on.”

    Buck enjoyed other triumphs in the ’90s, having reconciled with Nashville during his “Hee-Haw” years. In ’96, the year of his induction into the Country Music Hall of Fame, he opened Buck Owens’ Crystal Palace, an elaborate Bakersfield restaurant, concert room and museum featuring top country acts, with he and the Buckaroos nearly every Saturday night. The onstage gear, said Christofferson, the Palace’s manager, was no surprise. “We have a whole line of Fenders, mostly Twins, on the stage. Even the piano player (Jim Shaw) has some type of Fender keyboard amp. Buck was always tryin’ some of the newer Fender amps that came out.”

    His youthful spirit remained even as age began to affect his health. He lucked out when doctors found a cancerous growth on his tongue early enough to save his voice in the early ’90s. He battled back from pneumonia in 1997 and continued performing and overseeing his businesses. In August, 1999, the “classic” lineup of Holly, Cantu, and Brumley reunited for a show at the Palace to celebrate Buck’s 70th birthday. Buck presented Holly with a custom red white and blue Tele at the Palace in November, 2002.

    Playing became more difficult for Buck after a minor stroke in 2004. But, Christofferson remembered, his affliction didn’t erode a powerful desire to regain his old playing form. “His fingers would get kind of stiff towards the end there. You could tell his brain was still tellin’ him he wanted to play this or that (but) it just wasn’t comin’ out the same. I can remember right up to the end, Buck’s office (at the Crystal Palace) was upstairs right next to mine, and for an hour or 45 minutes before the show he’d be up there just playin’, tryin’ to loosen his fingers up and get ready for the show. Couple a stroke with a little bit of arthritis, it’s damaging to your abilities.”

    He wasn’t up to performing the last year of his life, but was still able to get around and often greeted visitors at the Palace. A chance meeting on March 24, 2006, with some fans from Oregon hoping to see him onstage led to his final show that evening with the Buckaroos. The musical results were rough, but he and the band stayed onstage an hour and a half. When the show ended, the fans satisfied, Buck went home to his ranch just 20 minutes outside town and, early next morning, died in his sleep. After a five-year battle with prostate cancer, Doyle Holly died in Nashville on January 13, 2007.

    Twenty years earlier, Buck Owens had feared “Hee-Haw” would eclipse his musical achievements. It would have gratified him that when he passed, while most major obituaries mentioned the show, the main focus was on his timeless musical legacy, what he once called a “plain old drivin’ country sound with a hell of a beat and a bunch of twangy guitars and a couple of old boys like Don Rich and me singin’ – no pretenses, no bull****, just plain music.”

    If you had to select one symbol of his and the band’s essence, a Tele and a Twin – and all they represent – might just be the best choice of all.


    Owens with Brad Paisley during a 75th birthday bash for Owens. Paisley presented Owens with a custom-made black-and-silver-paisley Bill Crook guitar.
    Owens with Brad Paisley during a 75th birthday bash for Owens. Paisley presented Owens with a custom-made black-and-silver-paisley Bill Crook guitar. Photos: Felix Adamo/Bakersfield Californian. Bolin guitar
    The John Bolin-made guitar presented to Buck by Billy Gibbons. Photo courtesy Rhino Records.

    Big Players on Buck’s Huge Influence

    There’s certainly no denying the influence Buck Owens has had on every generation of country picker/singer/songwriter (and gobs in other genres, as well) to have come down Music Row or the streets of Bakersfield.

    In Dan Forte’s July ‘06 VG feature marking Owens’ then-recent passing, country superstar Brad Paisley said, “Without Buck Owens, country music would have likely remained swimming in huge string sections, choral-style background vocals, ‘lounge’ singing, and people in three-piece suits. Instead, he dominated the ’60s with Telecasters blazing, steel guitar, and fiddle. The effect he had on country is the same effect he had on me: he made it seem cool to be twangy, cool to wear rhinestones, and to chicken-pick – unlike anyone before him.”

    And John Fogerty added, “If the Buckaroos and Buck Owens were touring right now, that’s the band I’d want to be in. You can name all the other artists through all other eras, including Hank Williams even, but getting to play those songs with that attitude and that sound night after night – that’s what I’d want to do.”

    “Buckaroo music was just something that was so friendly – it sparkled, and was so accessible,” said Marty Stuart. “Scholars can study it, but a nine-year-old kid could start a band with it, too. Buckaroo music, to me, is just kind of an essential form of American music, especially essential country music.”

    ZZ Top founder/guitarist Billy F Gibbons, a longtime admirer of the Buck Owens Bakersfield sound, told VG, “Buck’s upbeat playing style, without a doubt, brought a new twist into country music. With his interesting band of renegade musicians, the sound emanating from his trusty Telecaster, twanked and tonked its way to the top of the charts, inspiring all of us who love his six-string thing.”

    Gibbons’ presentation piece to Buck, a black, rhinestone-encrusted, souped-up Esquire-styled solidbody, was one of the final additions the interesting array of custom guitars so well known to Owens’ showbiz-savvy personality. Built by John Bolin’s “House Of JB,” Gibbons says, “The instrument features the latest in frontline hardware and electronics. A genuine showpiece!”

    In the liner notes of Rhino 2006 compilation Buck Owens…21 #1 Hits, Gibbons noted, “Buck stands as one of the most revered mavericks of country music. Enigmatic, innovative, genuine… An unassuming genius of the genre.

    “I stand alongside a host of real Buck Owens enthusiasts. And why not? From his roots in Texas out to Bakersfield, Buck and The Buckaroos forged their hot-rodded version of C&W into a personalized, punked-up, funked-out, rock-solid expression of ingenuity.”


    This article originally appeared in VG May 2007 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.