In the summer of 1968, America was starting to hear about a new blues movement exploding in England, primarily in the hipster clubs of London. Riding the wave of the worldwide success of the Rolling Stones, groups with raw sound and power such as The Yardbirds, The Animals, and Eric Clapton with John Mayall & The Bluesbreakers were avidly embraced. Savoy Brown became a college radio smash.
These Brits were applying variations of the blues form to contemporary culture, and creating vibrant, direct songs. The whole English scene was dynamic and exposed a generation to the music of American blues masters including Sonny Boy Williamson, Muddy Waters, and the entire group of legendary Chicago purists. These British Groups channeled the American blues into an exciting format that was both explosive and relevant to an entirely new audience in America.
Out of this kinetic setting, Ten Years After burst onto the scene, featuring one of the most dynamic, flash guitarists to ever emerge from of the British scene. Certainly, Terry Reed, Mick Abrahams, and Taste also had emerged as guitar powerhouses around the same time, but Alvin Lee was the complete package; a lead guitarist/lead singer with classic good looks; blazing guitar speed; and that rare, key component – taste. He could play cleaner and faster than any rock guitarist of his time, but he had the keen musical perception to insert strategically placed pauses just long enough to catch life and embrace the listener before blazing down the fingerboard.
In 1968, when Ten Years After formed in England, America was ripe and ready for British blues, hungry for the latest group with blue-based style echoing the early work of Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck. Ten Years After hit the charts with its live album, Undead, recorded at the famous Klooks Kleek in London.
The album absolutely dripped with excitement, and college FM radio immediately embraced its sound. Lee was a gifted flash guitarist who had a real feel for the blues structure. His virtuoso guitar approach was dazzling, and he could immerse himself in the form so completely that his vocal howls echoed the backstreets of Chicago.
Ten Years After was composed of four gifted musicians – with Alvin Lee, Chick Churchill on the Hammond B-3, Leo Lyons on bass, and Ric Lee on drums. The group was tight, focused, and the ideal launching pad for Lee’s gifts. On Undead, they tear into “Woodchoppers Ball” with intense, spellbinding ferocity and determination. The band flies with such determination that the listener can feel the energy that must have radiated in the club on recording night. Lee had absolute command as his fluid, slick guitar lines fly over the driving rhythm. No sappy sell-the-group pop songs here – this record is a testament to speed and artistry. The lyrical “Summertime” reflects the scope of Lee’s expressive range, as does the album’s version of the now legendary “I’m Goin’ Home.”
In August of ’69, I was 17 and living in upstate New York. We started hearing radio reports of a gathering down in Bethel, where a large rock festival was scheduled for later that week. We couldn’t know it at the time, but this was the start of the original Woodstock Festival at Yasgar’s Farm.
As Friday approached and the reports of freeway closures became more frequent, it was clear that this was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime event. My parents also made it clear to me that I was not to even think about going! Without a pause over that small detail, I managed to convince an older member of the band I was playing with at the time to drive us to the concert – and we were off before my parents realized where we were heading.
We arrived Saturday morning and had to park on a side road cluttered with “abandoned” cars. We soon joined the river of 500,000 people ambling into the woods and meadow near the main stage. Striding up the dirt walkway, we stepped over the perimeter fence, which had been trampled when the crowd declared the event a “free” concert (as a result, I still have my ticket!). Making my way to a tower on stage right, I saw all the groups that afternoon, including The Incredible String Band, Santana, and Joe Cocker. Everyone was high and happy to be there; I remember someone singing Bob Dylan’s “Ballad of a Thin Man.”
As darkness fell, the announcer called, “Ladies and Gentleman… Ten Years After!” And I was swept up in a classic rock and roll moment.
In the cool, dark evening, the band blazed! Lee mesmerized everyone; he didn’t have to do anything but focus those blues the way he wanted to. No smashing of amps, no running around. He had the power, and he used it. In the huge Woodstock setting, Ten Years After transported us all to a place where only music lived – everything else was blurred and irrelevant.
After all their work in small clubs, Ten Years After was able to create music with tremendous inward power. With the Hammond pounding out the chords, and the rhythm section locked in the groove, the charismatic Lee had the skill to draw everyone in, and share their magic circle of sound.
With that performance, Ten Years After had arrived. For me, the highlight of the festival came when Lee blazed into the intro of “I’m Goin Home,” before the entire band drove the song to the heavens.
What made the band’s performance so powerful was its complete command of the blues, and the sincerity in its presentation. These weren’t “posers” cashing in on the latest fad. They were a dedicated group whose love of the blues was evident in every note they played. They locked into a song and it moved! Lee rode the train in total control of his instrument, playing faster and cleaner than ever, then at just the right moment, he’d slow down and insert a slight pause, leaving the audience gasping at the push/pull! This contrast made “I’m Goin Home” the band’s most powerful showpiece. As Lee’s guitar fireworks and voice blared into the surrounding hills.
Looking back, I don’t know if it was the simplicity of their style or their intensity, but Ten Years After succeeded in becoming a highlight of that wonderful moment that was Woodstock. Their live, raw power connected the audience. The combination of the expressive Hammond B-3 under the searing guitar lines has since become a blues standard.
But on this night, Alvin Lee’s slashing stop-and-go phrasing was magical. He kept his eyes closed tightly as he soloed, and you could imagine that he was transfixed, floating somewhere between the Woodstock stage and the smoky blues stages in London. Time and space failed to exist as his music dragged us all into that special place where only the most gifted musicians and artists can go. And in the darkness, half a million people went along for the ride.
This article originally appeared in VG May 2002 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Kenny Sultan with a Martin 000-18KS signature model (left) and the ’36 Martin 000-18 that served as the basis for it. All photos Preston Gratiot.
Kenny Sultan is a best-selling author of music books and instructional videos covering blues guitar, and is the guitarist in a blues duo with Tom Bell. As a kid, Sultan’s older brother would take him to blues clubs like L.A.’s Ash Grove before he’d even reached his teens. An accomplished photographer, the elder Sultan built his portfolio by shooting the likes of T-Bone Walker and Doc Watson, while the younger would watch the performers, blown away. “He gave me two albums…” Sultan says of his sib. “Muddy Waters’ Down on Stovall’s Plantation and Jim Kweskin and the Jug Band, and I really got into Kweskin’s fingerpicking.”
Already a guitar player, by the age of 12, Sultan had “switched from rock and roll – playing the Beatles and Kinks and such – to playing the blues. While my friends were listening to the Monkees, I was listening to B.B. King and T-Bone Walker.”
The affect was so profound that when the time came to decide on college, he opted for U.C. Santa Barbara, where he majored in Black Studies. “U.C.S.B. was strict about a music major being tied to proper music training. But I wanted to play the blues, so I became a Black Studies major with Music as a minor. Black Studies was all about the blues and jazz and African and Caribbean, so I got all of the music in addition to the Black studies.”
Sultan’s senior thesis was based on his experiences going to blues clubs. “It was the greatest thing on earth! I watched guys play and had a couple of beers while I wrote notes. It was amazing.”
As a player, who are your most obvious influences?
Lightnin’ Hopkins and Reverend Gary Davis for the alternating picking; for the monotone, Lightnin’ is beyond belief. I love that stuff – his attitude and everything about him.
Jim Kweskin gave me the love for jug band music and good-time sounds. I like those guys because they did what they did and it was all very organic… I mean, 12-bar blues? Forget about it. It was more likely to be 13-bar, or 111/2!
I really admired ragtime players, too, but it’s so hard to play that stuff – with that moving bass and right-hand all over the place – that I couldn’t get my heart and soul into it.
Sultan’s collection includes prime vintage Martins like this (from left) ’34 0-17, ’36 00-17, ’40 00-18, ’43 000-18, ’50 000-21, ’37 0-18, and ’49 5-18.
It’s funny, I’m on a lot of records with people who are pretty good players – technically way beyond me – and I have no idea why they keep asking me back. I must be the comic relief, because I go in and I’m done in five or 10 minutes. It’s not technical left-hand work, but there must be something people hear.
Which guitars are you currently playing onstage?
Usually, newer instruments. I still record with my old ones and do special gigs with them. It’s kind of like having a ’57 Ford Thunderbird. You might take it out on Sundays with the top down for a cruise, but if you want to go cross country, you take your Honda so you’ll have a comfortable, reliable ride. Onstage, old guitars are great, but they’re sensitive, irreplaceable, and the tuners are 60 years old. So I play my Marin signature model 000-18 and a National Reso-Phonic Style O. It is one of the first 100 made before the company started, after the demise of National Resonator Instruments in 1941. And because I occasionally like the sound of a wood-bodied National, I also have an El Trovador.
(LEFT TO RIGHT) Early-’70s Teisco Del Rey. Sultan calls this ’58 Gibson Les Paul Junior “Pauly.” ’50 Gibson ES-350
When I play electric, I use my 1950 Gibson ES-350 – so clean it’s insane! I’ll also play an old Stratotone or the Mustang.
To record, I use old Martins ranging from the single 0 to 000s, or my dreadnought. But the basic stage guitars are a Style 0 for slide, the El Trovador, or the 000-18 signature.
Do any of your guitars have stories behind them?
There are a few. I remember a ’64 Tele I loved. But I don’t play electric all that much, so when one of my students asked, “Is that for sale?” I said, “Let’s talk.’” I got so much damn money for that thing I felt kind of bad. So the next day, I bought a ’52 reissue. It wasn’t as nice as the ’64, but it was certainly worth the difference-in-price nice.
I also traded a ’41 D-18 for a ’57 D-18 and a whole bunch of cash. But for some reason, on a dreadnought, I almost like the standard bracing. On smaller models – single, double and triple Os – there’s a huge difference with the scalloped bracing. On dreadnoughts, it’s a big difference, but I can’t dig into those that aren’t scalloped.
The ’57 sounds great. I don’t usually play dreadnoughts – it’s just not my sound and I don’t like to have my arm draped over the larger body. But I needed at least one dread, so I’ve kept it.
My son is taking over the ’65 Fender Mustang I played when I was 10. It’s Olympic White with a red pickguard – mint – really clean with the original case. I have pictures of me playing it when I was 10, wearing a polka-dot shirt with a Beatles haircut.
When I was 11 or 12, my older brother turned me on to the blues and gave me his Gibson J-45. Unfortunately, that’s the only one of my guitars that’s ever been stolen. It was taken out of the trunk at a gig years ago.
Do you have trouble getting rid of guitars?
I’ve let a few go, sometimes because the cash was just too good, but usually because I knew the guitar was going to a friend who’d let me play it when I felt the need. One day I realized I didn’t have a need for seven 000-18s.
You recently sold one of your prized vintage Martins at auction.
Yes, a 000-42. Martin did an event at Christie’s where it put up 50 guitars, and I figured it would be great to hang out. When it went up for sale, I was really nervous. And I lost money on the deal, but it didn’t really matter because of the way it all turned out. [Martin Artist Relations Manager/historian] Dick Boak said, “You’re not going to believe who bought it… Chris (Martin IV). He bought it for the museum.” My day changed. Martin doesn’t really sell guitars once they get into the museum.
The Martin Museum is like Cooperstown to me, so it’s in a good home. I had the 000-42 for several years, but felt weird playing a guitar that was more expensive than a Mercedes-Benz.
How did you get involved in designing your Martin signature 000-18?
(LEFT TO RIGHT) Gibson ES-125 TDC. ’58 Harmony Stratotone. Early-’60s Harmony Red Rocket.
James Jensen, of Solid Air Records, is a very good friend, and he told Dick Boak, “I think it would be great to have a working blues guy have a signature model.” I wasn’t privy to all of the conversations, they set up an appointment for me and Dick at the NAMM show. I figured the odds were 99 to 1 I’m not going to get one of these things. I told Jensen, “Come on, they’ve got Eric Clapton, Sting, Tom Petty, Paul Simon… and me?”
Well, Santa Barbara to the NAMM show in Anaheim is a good four-hour drive, but soon enough I was hanging out, waiting for my 2:30 appointment with James and Dick. I tell my buddies “I’ll be about five minutes…” You know, thinking nothing was going to happen. Dick was looking at some of my stuff, and I have Martins on all of my CDs, books, and DVDs… I just love Martins. So Dick looks up and says, “You never asked us for anything.” I said, “I’ve never really thought of it.” So at that point I’m thinking, “Here comes the ‘No.’” But he looked at everything on the table and said, “Let’s do it.” He shakes my hand and I walked out thinking, “So that’s how things are done. A five-minute meeting and a handshake deal. He’s the greatest guy to work for.
Next thing I know, I get five pages asking my ideas for the signature guitar. We wanted to make it like my ’36 sunburst 000, but they wanted to do different things. I think it was the same year the 000-18GE was being released, so if you looked at a sunburst GE, it appears very similar. But Dick said, “We have a stash of fiddle-back mahogany and I’m thinking of using it on yours. What do you think?” It’s amazing stuff, it looks like flamed maple or Koa, but it’s mahogany.
Going down the spec sheet, I had to answer questions like, “What kind of spruce do you want for the top?” Now, I’m a guitar player and a collector – to a point. I like everything original and straight, but as far as the condition, I don’t care. In fact, some of my better-sounding guitars are worn and frayed. But I had to choose from Adirondack, Engleman, Sitka, whatever, for the top. Because Adirondak was used in the ’30s, it was our obvious selection. And I wanted an ebony fingerboard and bridge. I also liked snowflake and diamond inlays, so that also made the list.
Boak approved about 90 percent of it, but steered me a little. For instance, I didn’t want my name on the fretboard. And there were certain things I wanted, like a herringbone stripe down the back, tortoiseshell binding. We also went with an ebony truss rod cover, but I was concerned about how ebony can look like plastic, so I asked for a Grade 2 to offset the highest grade on the fingerboard and bridge, so you could actually see the grain of the wood. I originally requested Grade 1, but Boak said it might be too streaky. I also decided to step up from what would have been a traditional headstock decal and opt for the CF Martin Company logo to be inlaid in pearl.
I wanted a 13/4” nut and a modified V neck, or something that felt ’30s, but a hair less “clubby.” But it’s a wide neck – 23/8” with 5/16” string spacing on it, ebony pins. All these little things started to add up, but it was fun.
(LEFT TO RIGHT) This National Style 0 is number 55 of the original “pre-company” 100. ’08 National El Trovador. Martin D-35-12 12-fret.
It was fun specifying the herringbone inlay in mother-of-pearl. Herringbone is not part of the traditional model 18 trim, and to do that single inlay with no lines on either side was really tricky. I wasn’t sure it was going to look good, but it came out simple, understated, yet elegant.
When you sat down to run through the details of its construction, what was your primary focus?
I was looking for tone. I like scalloped braces and a few other features of the original. I even specified Waverly tuners.
What was your impression when you saw one finished?
I freaked out. And it wasn’t that my name was on it – it’s just a handsome guitar. The design is why people buy it. They all come out so beautiful and play so well. About 25 of my students have one, and they all sound great.
So you’re a good salesman, too?
No, they sold themselves. I have three of them now, and the other night a couple of friends were comparing them. The sunburst looked a little different on each, which I like, because the hardest thing for me was developing the finish; we wanted it to match the ’30s in the feathering from the dark to light, rather than an abrupt change.
The other challenge was the pickguard. I wanted the nitrocellulose they used in the ’30s, but Martin steered me toward the more stable type they use now.
The prototype came out just right, and the guys at Martin were really happy.
Was retail cost a consideration?
We wanted it to be $5,000 or lower, and we were able to meet it even with the fiddleback mahogany, Adirondack, and pearl herringbone binding. So if people were enticed by a bit of bling, that’s a bonus. It just performs so well as far as tuning and sound. Woods and hardware have a break-in period, but this guitar sounds great straight out of the box.
Has it sold well?
I think they sold 80 at its first NAMM show, and I’ve heard the projected target is 30 or 40 guitars to break even. They’ve been a good company to work for. The plan was to build 50 to 60 signatures, but they made about 80 and ran out of signed labels. Currently, they’re into the second or third hundred, because I know I’ve signed at least that many labels. It’s a funny story because I’ve heard of a couple of people trying to order a custom guitar and they asked for the fiddle-back wood, and the Martin salesman actually says that wood is reserved for the Kenny Sultan model. So they’re reserving what they have and it seems they still have some great wood left.
In the music business, few make big bucks. Most depend on a day job to pay the bills.
That’s true. I decided about 15 years ago to have a day job related to music, so I set up a studio. I realized that playing live would have me playing on the road most of the year, which would be a drag on my family life. Or, I could teach. I used to teach guitar before I met Tom, so I thought I could teach through videos or DVDs and do some studio work for television, video, or film. Now, playing live is icing on the cake. I went from doing a couple hundred gigs per year to doing maybe 90, and I don’t want to go on the road for more than eight or nine weeks of the year, because my son is a little older. So I center my travel on cool spots.
Recording and performing aside, is there a guitar you turn to when playing for pleasure?
Well, my first choice is always my ’36 sunburst 000-18. But for comfort, I’m drawn to single 0s. I have a 0-18 and a 0-17, and they’re so comfortable. So I’m gravitating to smaller bodies. Travelling, I’ll usually take a single 0 because they’re small and sound great.
When I sold my 0-18, I bought my first real Gibson acoustic – a ’37 L-00 for a different sound. It’s nice to have one Gibson acoustic around.
As a teacher, what basic tips do you generally share when players ask?
I tell them it’s all about technique. The fretting hand is what you know – it’s the skills and the things you’ve learned. But the picking hand is who you are. I’ve tried get that idea across to my students, because that’s the heart and soul of your playing – your picking hand. And it’s where some of the best players use technique to get a groove going. That, and the way you strike the strings – down, up, or flat. I’ve honed my technique to where I play lighter now, maybe because I have to hold back so I don’t get as sore during extended performances.
With the portable sound systems available now, you don’t have to beat the guitar to death to be heard.
Right, and a good guitar can project a lot of sound. When I bought my older guitars, there were so many to choose from, and I had this ability to choose guitars that had been places. I can tell there is a story behind a guitar by just playing it, and you can tell if a guitar has been in some funky spot at some point. It won’t take more than about six strums before I know if I want a certain guitar.
What kind of a setup do you prefer on your guitars?
I don’t mind a little string buzz – it adds character. But now I play with a little more right-hand technique, which allows me to put more feeling in my playing. I overplayed when I was younger, and a lot of newer players have the same issue. I love dynamics.
Do you have a particular luthier you like to work with?
For the last 25 years I’ve worked with Jim Lombard, here in Santa Barbara. I ran over a guitar one time, and he fixed it. I was sober, but it was an early morning and I put the guitar on top of the car, then realized I’d forgotten my briefcase. Next thing you know, it was crunch time. Jim does all of my setups, and I couldn’t ask for better.
What elements shape your trademark sound?
I rely on right-thumb technique. I like the percussive effect of striking the strings in certain ways. I have an automatic damp on my two and four, so I try to eliminate overtones, and that’s probably why I like mahogany – it offers less overtones than rosewood. Although I do have rosewood guitars, the majority are mahogany. My stuff is more a dampening, rhythmic style. I love rhythm kind of not on the beat; I have a really difficult time trying to play to a click track. Most of the stuff I play, I’m in control of the rhythm, and sometimes when I’m recording for a movie or TV spot, I have to play to a click track because the drummer already has his track down. As I flow in and out, it doesn’t sound as good, unless we’re all doing it at once, together. Then you meld together. Otherwise, it’s rough.
Describe the picks you use and how you use them.
Right now, I use Dunlop brass 20-gauge finger picks, which are nice. I wear them fairly low and turn them toward my thumb. Most fingerpickers don’t pick straight up, unless they play classical. Picking at an angle, you can get a lot of pick noise. I turn the pick toward my thumb so that even though I’m picking at an angle, the pick is coming straight up. It improves the tone.
For a thumb pick, I use a Dunlop nylon. I also wear that low so I can play with my thumb if I want to. I strum with the flesh of my thumb hitting the string. Again, my style usually has me using two fingers and my thumb. When I teach or play at home, I don’t use picks.
What led you to reside in Santa Barbara?
You mean the blues Mecca of the Pacific Coast? My older brother went to U.C.S.B. – he’s the one who influenced me most about music and guitar at an early age. So when I had a chance to go to college, it was either going to be at U.C.S.B. or at Santa Cruz. I liked both, but Santa Barbara was a little closer to where my folks were living, yet still far enough away. At the time, they had a better musicology base than Santa Cruz. I continued my collegiate education here with a little work at U.C.L.A. afterward.
(LEFT TO RIGHT) ’37 Gibson L-00. ’56 Martin D-18. ’88 Santa Cruz OM.
How long have you been playing with Tom?
It’s a funny story. I was teaching at U.C.S.B., was on the radio at KCBX, and I was hanging out with blues historian Greg Drust – we started the Santa Barbara Blues Society. So, on my radio show in ’79 I promoted my classes, played music, and I heard of a harmonica player in town. Eventually, I met him at an Eddie Vinson and Big Momma Thornton show in a tiny club. Tom was invited to sit in with the band, and I played guitar some. Then, someone called in to the radio show and said he wanted to hire us for a show that was only two days away! Of course, we said “Okay!” But we didn’t know anything. Tom didn’t sing and neither did I, so I said, “You better start!” So we put on a Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee record and stole every song!
The gig was at a health food restaurant, but we drew a rowdy crowd, and we didn’t last long. We then moved over to the Bluebird, and the rest is history.
Do you write most of your own material or do you throw in some covers while performing live?
Tom and I have been together long enough where I think it would be cool to do some covers of traditional songs, because we have our own sound. Tom is very aware of the blues scene and doesn’t want to do anything anybody’s heard before, because he doesn’t want to be compared. He’s very much the traditionalist. And now, we’re the old guys! As it is, our typical set consists of about half of our own material, and about half of other artist’s, but it’s rearranged and hard to tell if it has been written by us or not, because it’s usually the same sorts of topics. But we don’t sing about sharecropping or anything because we live in Santa Barbara.
Sometimes, people like to hear familiar material, especially when we go on tour to Europe. Our biggest hits are songs they know, even though they may not get the slang as much. So I’m working on Tom, but right now we’re about half and half.
Besides sleeping in, what’s the best thing about making a living playing guitar?
Well, you don’t have to go to work! It’s a plus when what you do is your life. I’ve always thought that. I’m a musician, so I do what I am. That’s a very satisfying feeling, and I’ve never once dreaded going to work. And that’s a cool thing!
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.
Donald “Duck” Dunn at the Lakland 10th Anniversary celebration. Photo: Chuck Cherney.
In the history of popular music, the story of Memphis-based Stax Records stands as a unique, enduring legacy.
Memphis was the focal point of the gritty, greasy southern soul music in the 1960s, and Stax was the label. And two bands – the Mar-Keys, and Booker T. & The MGs – were especially important to the “Memphis soul” sound. The latter group not only garnered numerous hits of its own, it was a notable backing band for Stax artists, in the studio and onstage.
Memphis native Donald “Duck” Dunn was not only the bassist for the MGs, he took part in other Stax projects, including recording famous tunes such as Aretha Franklin’s “Respect,” Otis Redding’s “Dock Of The Bay” and “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long,” and Wilson Pickett’s “The Midnight Hour.” He also backed Isaac Hayes in a piano/bass/drums jazz trio on Hayes’ first album, Presenting Isaac Hayes and Jerry Lee Lewis on his 1972 album, Southern Roots.
In the ensuing decades, Dunn worked with a number of other artists, including guitarists Mike Bloomfield and Duane Allman. His resumé also includes a four-year stint with Eric Clapton and being hand-selected by John Belushi and Dan Ackroyd for their band, the Blues Brothers, which scored a major hit in ’78 with its cover of “Soul Man.”
We recently sat with the legend of low-end to discuss his long and laudable career.
Vintage Guitar: An early picture of The Mar-Keys shows you with an upright bass. Did you have any formal music training.
Donald Dunn: I didn’t play an upright (chuckles)! I had an upright at one time, and tried to learn how to play it. But I was working in the studio so much I didn’t have time. I didn’t have my electric bass in the studio the day of the photo session, but that upright was there, so I picked it up.
When I left the Mar-Keys and went into the studio with Steve (Cropper) and Booker, I didn’t have time to play it anymore. It was a blond Kay (upright); later, I loaned it a friend’s son, and it was destroyed in a car wreck.
So you’ve always been an electric bassist?
Yeah; the first one I had was a Kay, I believe. I had a Silvertone amp, but I was never happy with the Kay as long as I saw Fenders hanging in the music store window (chuckles)! One day, my brother went out on a limb for me and co-signed for a Fender, because I wasn’t of age to buy it. I knew once I got it in my hands, I’d be a better player.
For lack of a better term, didn’t you “integrate” Ben Branch’s band?
I sure did. I had the P-Bass. And it was all music to me – Ben’s band played the music I grew up on – the 5 Royales, Hank Ballard, Ray Charles stuff.
The most well-known Booker T. & the MGs lineup included Booker Jones on keyboards, Steve Cropper on guitar, Al Jackson on drums, and you on bass. But you weren’t the original bassist, right?
No, that was Lewis Steinberg. He was a great “walking” bass player, but the R&B scene started getting syncopated. And that’s what happened at Stax. I did syncopated bass more than walking lines; I usually held my thumb on the top edge of the pickguard and played with my first two fingers, and I wore the finish down to the wood where my thumb was.
I had one P-Bass that went down with Otis Redding, and I had a ’58 maple-neck. There’s a picture of me with Booker T. & the MGs where I’m holding Lewis’ bass, with his initials on it! Again, I didn’t know they were takin’ pictures that day, and I didn’t know I was going to be in the picture, so I grabbed Lewis’ bass.
What amps did you use in the ’60s?
In the studio, I used an Ampeg B-15, but the one I really wanted – which everybody wanted – was a (Fender) Bassman. I got a piggyback Bassman, but I never liked it much. In ’67, I got a Kustom tuck-and-roll amp, and I’ve still got it.
Donald "Duck" Dunn with his Duck Dunn signature model Lakland bass. Photo: Paul Natkin.
How about at the Monterey Pop Festival?
(pauses) It was probably a rental amp; I don’t think I carried anything out there. I don’t remember putting an amplifier on an airplane, but if I did, it probably would have been the Kustom. We probably ran through a backline that was already there.
Judging by the “Monterey Pop” documentary, you were fairly well immersed in the moment.
I’ve seen some old videos and pictures from that night, and I was amazed at how much I moved, with the notes I was playin’. I guess it was kind of a way of keepin’ time instead of pattin’ my foot!
The music at Monterey was quite diverse, wasn’t it?
Well, I think we were the only ones there in mohair suits (laughs)! A lot of the rest of ’em were in that tie-dyed, psychedelic stuff. Years later, I bumped into Tommy Smothers at the San Francisco airport. He remembered introducing us and Otis Redding at Monterey.
Didn’t Otis play guitar?
Yeah, but he tuned to open strings. I can’t recall that he played on any recordings, but he would sit down and show us a song on guitar.
There were numerous other pop festivals in those times, most larger than Monterey. Did the MGs play any others?
We played at a racetrack in Atlanta, and one in California – somewhere near L.A.
When Booker T. & the MGs broke up the first time, you did a lot of sessions until the Blues Brothers brought you back into the public eye.
My son is putting together a website on me, and I can’t believe some of the stuff I did, including a lot with Levon Helm. That’s actually how I got into the Blues Brothers – the horn section played some stuff with Levon on “Saturday Night Live.”
You played with some legendary guitarists; you were on the live double album Fathers and Sons, which included Mike Bloomfield.
Buddy Miles played on that album, too. I was on an Allman Brothers album, and of course, I spent about four years with Eric Clapton.
The Blues Brothers was a band of veteran musicians backing actors/comedians, like Dan Ackroyd and John Belushi. How did you feel about that?
The band was so sincere that it didn’t matter. How could anybody not want to work with John and Dan? I was really kind of hesitant to do that show, but my wife talked me into it, and other than Booker’s band, that’s the most fun band I’ve ever been in.
How do you describe the moviemaking experience?
It was different. You had to get up at 4:30 every mornin’, and then a lot of times you’d wait around until 10 and they’d say, “Okay, we’re not gonna need you today.” (chuckles) And I had a few speaking parts. I don’t remember what bass I was using in the movie, but it wasn’t my regular ’58. When they did the second movie, Fender had come out with a Duck Dunn signature model, and I used that.
After the Blues Brothers came your affiliation with Clapton.
He was really fun to play with; I was with him from ’83 to ’86. I did two albums with him, Money and Cigarettes and Behind the Sun.
Dunn gets into the groove in 1979 with Bill Black’s Fender Precision at Cherokee Studios, Los Angeles. Photo courtesy of Donald "Duck" Dunn.
Clapton recorded the excellent “Live Now” concert video in 1985. Was there any talk about releasing it as a live album?
I didn’t hear anything about that. But that gig was right around the time we were wrapping up that tour, and it was a good show that night.
At one point you played at Peavey Dyna-Bass…
I played a Peavey from ’84 to ’86. I had a band called the Coolers, and I was playing one when Dan Ackroyd sat in with us. I never had any problems with it, but I’ve always been a Fender person. Then Dan Lakin came along and made one I liked even better.
What about amps in those times?
I was using a Gallien-Kreuger top, with Ampeg SVT cabinets; I like the ones with eight 10″ speakers. Those sound really good.
Another item you usually had onstage in those times was a pipe.
Yeah, but I gave that up 10 or 11 years ago, when I had a bout with throat cancer. I’m now cancer-free.
Booker T. & the MGs were inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1992. What do you remember about that event?
It was wonderful. I got a call from the Hall of Fame; they told me we’d been voted in on our first nomination – it don’t get any better than that! Little Richard was there; I loved him when I was in high school.
Touch on the Duck Dunn signature model Fender Precision Bass.
That was around 1998; it was a Japanese-made limited edition. It was Candy Apple Red with a maple neck. I have the first two made.
You’ve got a new signature bass from Lakland, and you played – along with Bob Glaub, Joe Osborne, and Darryl Jones – at an event last March sponsored by Lakland in Chicago.
I had another 1961 Candy Apple Red Fender, and the Precision neck was kind of thick, so I put a Jazz neck on it. That one was kind of used for the Duck Dunn model that Lakland is about to release. Dan Lakin saw a picture of it, and he designed one for me. I played (the Lakland prototype) down in Dallas at that Eric Clapton Crossroads festival. The first one he gave me is a natural finish, and I’ve been playing it ever since; I’m extremely happy with it. I like the white block markers; some of the shows I play, they turn the lights down, and I’ve got to see that neck! (chuckles).
What other instruments do you own?
I’ve got three other Laklands, two other Fender Precisions and a Travis Bean, which was a gift from Steve Cropper. I think it really sounds good on ballads in the studio. I also have a 1966 Gibson Firebird, which was a gift from Cliff Williams with AC/DC.
Have you still got your original ’58 P-Bass?
Yeah, and I only use that on special occasions. I take that out when I tour with people like Neil Young, because they put it on a truck, and I won’t fly with it ’cause they give me so much crap about putting it in the overhead.
I actually traded it once, years ago, for a five-string Fender with a high C string, which I hated. I went back to a Precision with a rosewood neck, and the guy that took Bill Black’s place in the Bill Black Combo, Bob Tucker, got my bass, and when he got out of the business, he asked if I wanted it back, and he charged me three hundred bucks.
I also had Bill Black’s old bass, which I – like an idiot – decided to sand down with a natural finish. I later painted it metallic blue, and it now hangs in one of the Hard Rock restaurants.
The MGs are still receiving accolades as well; a fairly recent award in Memphis is exemplary.
We won the Governor’s Award for Performing Arts; that was really nice.
You now live on Florida’s Gulf Coast. Why there?
I came down here to live on a golf course. I was touring so much with the Blues Brothers in Europe in the summer that when I’d go home to Memphis, it’d be winter! And I love to play golf, so one day me and my wife visited a pro golf buddy down in Fort Myers, and on the way back, we found a place in Bradenton, and decided to move to Florida. I still play golf, but kinda backed off on it, but I’ve got a boat, too, and my wife found this property on a canal leading into the Gulf of Mexico. She bought it, then we put a house on it.
Dunn displaying his Fender signature model in a 1998 photo. Photo: Rich Morava, courtesy of Donald "Duck" Dunn.
Do you think the story of Stax Records and its place in the history of popular music has been accurately presented?
Some it has, some of hasn’t, I think. I didn’t do it all down there, but I know some things that went on. I’d rather remember the good ones. I know some people that claim they did some things, that didn’t. As for the music, it holds its own. When you’re recording music, you take it for granted. We didn’t know how popular it was until we did that (1967) tour in Europe.
And those records still hold up today. To have been able to play with Otis Redding and all those other artists was just phenomenal.
This article originally appeared in VG February 2006 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Steve Wariner. Photo courtesy of SelecTone Records.
Steve Wariner is among the handful of guitarists designated as a certified guitar player (C.G.P.) by Chet Atkins. The last guitarist to receive the personal honor, Wariner served a pallbearer at Atkins’ funeral in 2001. He also performed at the service.
In the dozen years since the release of No More Mr. Nice Guy, Wariner has released other albums and now runs his own label. Prior to our initial conversation with him in ’97, Wariner had won a Grammy with an ad-hoc band called the New Nashville Cats, and has added two more of those awards in the interim, for performances on a Bob Wills tribute album and an appearance on the Brad Paisley tune “Cluster Pluck.”
Wariner also participated in the first James Burton Guitar Festival at the Shreveport Municipal Auditorium in 2005, where he played a custom-made Kirk Sand nylon-string as well as a red mid-’80s Joe Glaser three-pickup with a B-bender (one of several custom Glasers he owns). He also took part in the finale, playing Merle Haggard’s “Working Man Blues” alongside Burton, Paisley, and Eric Johnson.
“I’d never done something like that,” he recounted. “You’d look across that stage at all of these great guitar players who were lined up… and I told James ‘You started all this with your Telecaster!’”
However, Wariner felt compelled to record an album that honored the late mentor who bestowed the C.G.P. honor on him, and such a goal came to fruition with the recent release of a primarily instrumental tribute Steve Wariner, C.G.P. – My Tribute to Chet Atkins, the fourth album he’s released on his self-owned SelecTone label. For Wariner, the creation of such an album wasn’t a question of if or why, but when.
“The labels I was on didn’t like instrumental songs, much less albums,” Wariner recalled. “I had to fight ’em tooth and nail just to get one instrumental song on a regular album! I’ve been away from Capitol for about seven years, and since I’ve got my own label, I figured it was time to do another (instrumental) project… and that idea had definitely been on my mind since Chet passed.
“A lot of people have done guitar records, and they’ll do their imitation of a song Chet might have done,” he added. “But what’s the point? He’s done them better than anybody ever will. I tried to come up with something that had a different plan.”
Wariner averred that the album, which consists of original songs that give a sonic tip-of-the-headstock to Atkins, as well as unique versions of tunes Atkins made famous, are arranged according to style, and Wariner pronounced the contents to be a “timeline.”
Learning from the master: Wariner and Atkins onstage in 1992.
The songs Wariner calls “the earlier stuff” are played on an Epiphone archtop once owned by Atkins and set up to be “very D’Angelico-like,” Wariner said. “I wanted something that sounded like it was from the early Chet days. I even used some vintage mics like Chet used.”
He also used a mid-’80s guitar given to him by Atkins, which he describes as “a Gibson Country Gentleman that is from the early days when Chet first went to that company.”
Wariner’s red Glaser is heard extensively on My Tribute To Chet Atkins. The classical guitar parts were played on a Takamine, and on “6120” it should come as no surprise that Wariner played his ’58 Gretsch 6120, which was the brand and model with which Atkins was most often associated by guitar lovers.
“It’s beautiful, and it sounds beautiful,” Wariner enthused. “I got it from a friend five or six years ago.”
With a chuckle, he confirms that the strings on “Leona” – a lush ballad named for Atkins’ widow – were mixed in what some music fans might call “an RCA Studio B arrangement,” as a tribute to the legendary location in Nashville where Atkins worked as a musician and producer.
Wariner has been planning to showcase songs from the new album at special events, and will be adding some of them to his regular setlist.
The new album includes several unique and perhaps unexpected twists; “Reeding Out Loud” is a tribute to another Wariner mentor (and close friend of Atkins), the late Jerry Reed. There’s also the fascinating “Producer’s Medley,” comprised of songs that pay homage to numerous hit songs produced by Atkins.
The album concludes with two vocal numbers, “Chet’s Guitar” and “Silent Strings,” the first an upbeat shuffle, the second one a somber number. The last thing heard on the album is jovial studio patter between Atkins and Wariner.
At this point in his career, Wariner has more control over his musical destiny than a lot of artists and performers, and is grateful for the opportunity to honor Chet Atkins.
“Chasing after platinum and gold records is awesome,” the veteran guitarist reflected. “But I’ve been there, done that. I’m at a point in my life where I’m more focused on integrity and making the music sound great. I know this Chet record isn’t radio-driven, but it was something that had to be done.”
Jim Marshall, who pioneered guitar amplifiers used by some of the greatest names in rock and roll, died today. He was 88.
Born in London in 1923, Marshall was a drummer, drum teacher, and owner of a musical-instrument retail store specializing in drums. He also carried guitars and amps, including the Fender line. Most players, however, found them to be prohibitively expensive and not quite what they needed.
“Players like Pete Townshend, Ritchie Blackmore and ‘Big’ Jim Sullivan pointed out to me, that although they used a Fender, it didn’t produce the sound they wanted,” Marshall told VG in a 2003 interview. “So they described the sound they were looking for to me. And that’s how the JTM 45 came to be.”
Also in 2003, Marshall product manager Nick Bowcott described the “sound” of Marshall amps as highly subjective.
“What the typical Marshall sound is really does depend on the listener,” he said. “A fan of ’70s British blues rock might cite Paul Kossoff’s edgy, organic sound as typical Marshall or Clapton’s quintessential ‘woman tone.’ Others might hear it as AC/DC’s cleaner-than-you-think rhythm and bruise, Edward Van Halen’s jaw-dropping classic ‘brown sound,’ the raw, brutal roar of the rhythm work of Kerry King of Slayer, Zakk Wylde’s fat, woody overdrive, the singing sustain of a Joe Satriani or Slash, or the crushing crunch of modern players like Wayne Static (Static-X), Stef Carpenter (Deftones), Daron Malakian (System Of A Down), or Mike Mushok (Staind).”
Friends and music-industry acquaintances cite Marshall as a humble and generous man who, over several decades, quietly donated many millions of pounds to worthy causes.
When it comes to guitar amplifiers, two names stand tall beyond the others: Leo Fender and Jim Marshall. Even “civilians” recognize these names. Two names, from two different countries, with two very individual sounds. Although Marshall’s original amplifier designs were largely influenced by Fender’s original Bassman, the resulting amplifier later took on a whole new character when it was paired with Marshall’s unique new 4 X 12 cabinet.
But what many people still don’t know is that Jim Marshall is a drummer – and he does not play guitar. As a drummer, Marshall rose through the ranks in England, taking lessons from drum star Max Abrams, and sought to emulate the style of his hero, Gene Krupa. By 1949, Marshall was a confident, well-seasoned player, and began giving drum lessons to many local musicians. He quickly built an impressive group of students, including Mitch Mitchell, who played with Jimi Hendrix, and Nicky Underwood, who played with Ritchie Blackmore.
With the income he saved from teaching, he was able to open his own business. In 1960, Marshall began building bass and PA cabinets in his garage because of the lack of equipment available in the U.K, especially for bass guitar. Later that year, Marshall opened his own retail shop, where he gave lessons and sold gear. At the advice of the musicians he knew, Marshall stocked his store with the most popular Fender and Gibson products – Stratocasters, Telecasters, Tremolux and Bassman amplifiers, Les Pauls and ES-335s.
Many of the guitarists who regularly visited Marshall’s store expressed interest in finding a guitar amp with a sound that was dirtier than the cleaner tones produced by the Fender amps available at the time. As a result of these requests, the very first Marshall amplifiers were born in the fall of 1962, created by Ken Bran, the service engineer at Marshall’s shop, with the assistance of his apprentice, Dudley Craven. There were many orders placed for these first prototypes, and Marshall gradually expanded his manufacturing facilities and production to accommodate demand. The Marshall sound was definitely catching on (for more information on the history of Marshall, there are few better sources than Mike Doyle’s book, The History of Marshall/Hal Leonard Publishing).
One of Jim Marshall’s very first customers was Pete Townshend, a lad he’d known since he strummed his very first chord.
“I’ve known Pete since he was a baby, because I played with his father in the big bands. His father was a very good alto clarinetist,” Marshall recalls. “When Pete started beating up his equipment, his father and I thought this kid had gone stark raving mad. He was trying this new kind of showmanship that we couldn’t appreciate.”
Little did he know that artists like the young Townshend, with this showmanship, using Marshall’s massive backline, would catapult this amplifier into the mainstream, making it perhaps the most popular amplifier in the history of rock music.
Vintage Guitar: What is the key to the sound of the Marshall amplifier that makes it so unique?
Jim Marshall: It became obvious to us that it was the overdriving of the valve with a special transformer, which, fortunately enough, no one has copied exactly. We’ve become the backdrop to all the groups ever since.
Which guitars were used in shaping the sound of the amp?
I knew very little about amplifiers, but I knew a lot about drums. I taught so many of the top drummers and their groups bought guitars and amps in my retail shop that was part of the drum school. They insisted I stock all the top American gear like the Gibson Les Paul and Fender Stratocaster. Those were the two guitars that we actually used when we were developing the sound of the amp. Still, my favorite is the Les Paul through the Marshall amplifier. That’s just what my ear prefers.
How did the 4 X 12 cabinet evolve?
We started off with 2 X 12s, but in those days speakers weren’t all that good, so we used two 25-watt speakers and a 45-watt amplifier that peaked at around 75 watts, and we blew every speaker. That’s when I designed the 4 X 12. It was purely because we were blowing speakers. I thought about the smallest cabinet I could make to hold four 12″ speakers, and there was nothing clever about designing the size, or anything like that. It was purely so that it would go into the transport of those days. We couldn’t make a more powerful 2 X 12 cabinet because there were not speakers available that could take the abuse of the amplifier. So I made a small cabinet, put in four 12″ speakers, and it worked. Then I put the amplifier into a cabinet, which was a square-ish one, then I had the idea of putting the angle on the 4 X 12 to make it look better. I think the angled cabinet is the best one to use if you’re only using one cabinet.
That cabinet design that’s been copied by so many manufacturers since.
If I’d have registered the design in the first place, I’d be earning a lot of royalties.
When did the first Marshall stack appear?
I think that came about in ’65, when Townshend said he needed 100-watt heads. We made the first three 100-watt heads for him. I asked him what sort of cabinet he wanted, and he said he wanted eight 12s in one cabinet. I said that a big square cabinet with a little amplifier on top would look ridiculous, so I told him to let me design something. I built what turned out to be an 8 X 12 stack. Pete tried to carry it out of the workshop and it was so heavy. I told him his roadies were going to kill him, but he said, ‘They get paid.’ Two weeks later he came back and told me I was right, and he asked if I could cut it in half. I told him to leave it to me, and that I would redesign something that would do the job. I went back to the straight 100 4 X 12, which is now the bottom cabinet, and put the angled one on top, and the amplifier on top of that. The stack was born.
So would you say that it was Pete Townshend’s request for an 8 X 12 cabinet that inspired the design of the Marshall stack?
Yes, he’s the one who inspired it. But actually, some lads have even gone so far to say that Pete was responsible for the design.
Other than Pete Townshend, which other artists influenced specific Marshall amp designs?
The Marshall Major was a 200-watt head made for Ritchie Blackmore, and he’s still got the same one. The amp, being 200 watts, overheated a lot because in those days the tubes didn’t last very long. The original Majors used EL34s. Then we changed the tubes in Ritchie’s amp to KT66s. Customers had a choice to order the amp with either EL34s or KT66s. We made very few of them.
How did you meet Jimi Hendrix?
I used to teach Mitch Mitchell, and he brought Jimi in to see me. So here was this lanky American saying, ‘I’m going to be the greatest, man.’ I thought, here’s another American who wanted something for nothing. But, as if he read my mind, he said that he didn’t want anything given to him. He wanted to pay full price, but what he did want was service anywhere in the world. I thought that was a tall order at the time, because we weren’t that big yet, but I said we would do it. Even if I had to have flown a technician out to wherever he was, I would’ve done so, because he was such a nice guy.
How much input did Hendrix have on the development of the Marshall amp?
None at all. He just bought standard models and he used to loop them together to get more power, and that’s all. He never asked for a thing. He was just happy that he got what he had and the sound that he wanted.
Did both Townshend and Hendrix require a lot of maintenance to their amps?
Pete never broke any one of his amps or the speakers, just the speaker cloth. He used to tear those with his guitars. That was it, and we used to replace them. Jimi Hendrix never smashed anything, really. He just tore the speaker cloth. But Jimi was away from England a lot and rarely got his speaker cloth replaced.
How did the relationship between Slash and Marshall begin, leading to Marshall’s first-ever signature model?
We were asked to build Slash 10 new amps for a tour, exactly the same as what he’d been using (a model 2555 Silver Jubilee). After all that time, we’d have to do some research and development to find all the right components to do them all over again, which would be very costly. I said that the only way I could do it would be to produce a limited edition of 3,000. I said that what I will do is let Slash put his signature on the front with mine, which is the first time I’d ever done that.
Were there any changes made to the amp’s original design?
No, they were made exactly the same as his old ones. Slash was afraid of losing his sound.
A few years ago, when the EL34 power tube became scarce, how did that major changeover to using the 5881 affect the Marshall amp’s signature tone?
We had to do that, but we weren’t happy doing it. The amp’s sound was a little cleaner with the 5881s than with the EL34s. That was better for the clean channel, but no so good for the distortion channel. When musicians were able to find the EL34s, they were putting them in themselves, but many forgot that they had to change the bias of the amps as well. So many people were destroying their Marshalls by not changing the bias and also by trying to hotrod them, because if we could have gotten more out of the amplifier we would’ve done it.
So the hotrodding thing was not very clever. It either ruined transformers or meant replacing tubes. We’ve since changed back to using the EL34s as they became more readily available once again. We had to do that because we found that EL34s are better tubes to use for that type of amp because you get better harmonics. Once the EL34 became more available, we had to find a constant supply because we use hundreds of them. The tube we use now comes from Russia, and it’s the same EL34 they use in their fighter planes. Funny enough, they still use a tube in fighter planes! So, it’s military spec and we have no problems, whatsoever. The ECC83 used to be a bad one, very microphonic. We have them made in China and they’re the best ECC83s there have ever been.
Is there a difference between ECC83 and 12AX7 preamp tubes?
There’s hardly any difference, it’s virtually the same tube, up to a point. We find the ECC83 better to use these days because we don’t have to throw so many away.
What was the reason for using 6550 power tubes in the Marshall amps sent to the U.S. in the mid 1980s?
They were shipped to the U.S. tubeless and the distributing company, Unicord, used to put the 6550s in because they thought it was better for their American market. But it wasn’t really, because many of the top American groups used to come to us when they were touring in Europe and ask us to please put the EL34s back in, because it is a better sound.
Do you think that the sound of the Marshall amp changes with the variations in the current used in different countries?
I think it’s better to use [British] current (220 volts), really, and that’s what quite a few American musicians find when they tour and prefer the sound of it. They do sound different. Japan is at about 120 volts, and the amp sounds different there. I think it sounds best in Europe, or anywhere that there’s 220/240 volts.
How do you think the sounds people want to hear have changed or evolved since the ’50s?
That’s the funny thing, you see, we’ve just gone ahead and listened to musicians telling us what they really wanted, but it’s basically been no different from our original sound. I’ve stayed with using tubes all the time, but lately we’ve developed transistor amplifiers, as well. But even our Valvestate has the ECC83 in the preamp section so they can get some of the valve sound, too.
Do you feel that in some ways, Marshall is competing with its own history?
I don’t think so, because the sound wanted now is really the sound we managed to get in the first place. For the future, I cannot see musicians wanting anything much different. Most musicians are back to using an amp with cabinets only. If they have problems using a rack, they’ve got to find what’s gone wrong within all those units within the rack. They’re wasting their time.
Do you have any special old Marshall amps that you keep around for reference?
Oh, yes, I’ve got a lot in the museum. Our chief engineer, Steve Grindrod, can take out any one he wants to listen to if he needs to have his mind jogged for a particular sound.
How many amps are in the museum?
I’d say about 50. I recently paid �8,000 to Guitar Center to buy three of my heads back for the museum. They were part of what used to be Aspen Pittman’s collection.
What’s the prize piece?
The number one amplifier – the first Marshall amplifier that was ever made. I managed to buy that back many years ago.
What do you think of the new breed of amplifiers that incorporate digital modeling technology to emulate the sound of tubes?
It’s not what you find on the measuring instruments that produces the sound. It’s what you hear up here (points to his ear) and whatever they do with digital or solidstate will never produce the harmonics of the tube. It’s the same as with electronic drums, they sound nothing like drums, to my ear.
Do you think that a day will arrive when tubes will eventually be phased out and replaced by solidstate technology?
No way! We use so many that there will always be a proposition for somebody to produce valves. Our Valvestate, for instance, has a very good sound, that’s why it’s the biggest thing we produce now. Marshall makes more Valvestates than anything we’ve ever done before, but if you give someone like Gary Moore a choice, he would always pick a tube amp, and he just bought two of the new JCM2000 DSL100 heads.
In which direction do you see Marshall’s amplifier designs moving in 10 years?
If I had to guess, I’d say that people will still want the same sounds, and I think the sounds I hear from the JCM2000 series will be desirable for many years. I don’t know how Steve Grindrod can compete with what he’s already given us. He’s done a good job and I think he’ll continue to do so for many years. But I’ve also got a very good bass designer now in Bruce Kier, and he’s been with us for about seven or eight years. Marshall will be expanding in the bass area, as well as in keyboards.
How much involvement do you have in the development of new products today?
None really at all, now, but my engineers do speak to me and see if I have any suggestions. My design staff is very good. I have 20 people and 30 in development. My time is taken up now going in at 6:30 every morning, and between 6:30 a.m. and 8 a.m. it gives me a lot of time to do things that I couldn’t during the day because people come in and ask me questions all day. I also handle things on the financial side of the company. And one major thing I do is open the mail every morning, so we actually read every letter that comes in. I think that’s the most important thing a boss could do.
Where do you turn for input and ideas on new products for the future?
We always listen to everybody, and I think it’s essential that we do, since you never know – somebody may say something that we hadn’t thought of.
Are you still performing regularly as a drummer?
Yes, but mainly for charities these days. My life story is being written for a film, and I’m going into the studio to record some numbers that will be used in the film. I’m not sure when it’s going to be released. They’ve got a young chap who’ll be playing me at the age of 19, and they’ve approached Phil Collins to play my father. Then I’m going to be in it right at the end.
Jim Marshall illustration: Sean Thorenson.
This interview originally appeared in VG‘s Oct. ’97 issue.
Like the “aged” guitars crafted by Fender and Gibson, this ESP solidbody looks like an ancient road warrior, one that’s gigged from Texas to Tijuana and back again, 200 nights a year. The GL-56 is actually a fresh entry in ESP’s line of George Lynch guitars, this one sporting the appearance of a modded old Strat. But is this seemingly aged axe a gimmick or a real, viable tone tool? Let’s find out.
The general specs on the guitar are distinctly Fenderesque: a bolt-on maple neck with a 25.5″ scale and alder body. As for its “modded” qualities, the neck features 22 extra jumbo frets and a 42mm bone nut, along with nickel hardware, and Sperzel locking tuners. A nice touch is the contoured heel to allow for better upper-fret access. On the other end of the guitar you’ll find a Gotoh bridge and an SSH pickup configuration featuring a Seymour Duncan Pearly Gates humbucker in the bridge position and two ESP SS-120 single coils in the neck and middle slots.
Finally, there’s that glorious, well-beaten finish, known at ESP as a “distressed two-tone burst.” Whatever you call it, it’s still gorgeous. The implied fingerboard wear is highly seductive, as are the faux belt-buckle gouges, crackly vanish, hints of rust on the humbucker, and other signs of delicious abuse and neglect. The plastic knobs and pickup covers have been cleverly “yellowed,” too.
How’s she sound and play? Like a dream. While your brain may look at this newly aged finish and say, “marketing gimmick,” your hands and ears say, “Ahh… vintage.” The GL-56 really has that played-in feel of an ancient player, something indescribable, other than to say it feels right. The fingerboard is super fast (a hair too fast for me – I’d suggest bringing the action up if you want more bending room). And the choice of pickups is sweet – it can accommodate everything from old-school Jimi chords on the neck and middle pickups to shreddin’ Yngwie and Lynch licks on the bridge. The vibrato bar is satisfactory, too, thanks to the Sperzels. But you should be aware that it’s a “down only” bar, which limits the number of whammy tricks it can do, but some players prefer the connected feeling of having the back edge of a vibrato bridge sit flush on the body.
Suffice to say, this ESP axe is a joy to play. Maybe the pseudo-vintage finish tricks the mind in a sense, but you can’t argue with the results – this is a bitchin’, badass guitar and, in this reviewer’s opinion, worth the expense. (The company also makes a more affordable model called the GL-256, but it doesn’t have the same depth of aging that goes into this model or the same premium hardware.) In any case, you might want to get your hands on a GL-56 and see how it rides for yourself. Not many of us can afford $15,000 or more for a real vintage beater, but for a fraction of that, ESP offers a guitar that feels pretty damn close and sounds like a monster, too.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s November 2008 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
The Beatles’ appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show” in February of 1964 is often referred to as the most important event in the history of rock music, having inspired thousands (millions?) of teenagers to play in a band.
A mid-’60s EKO 995. Photo: Rick Malkin. Instrument courtesy of Sean Smith.
Many budding bassists aspired to own a violin-shaped instrument like the one Paul McCartney played on the show; his was a Höfner, which was out of reach, cost-wise, for most at the time. But there were cheaper alternatives, like the Eko 995.
Eko guitars and basses were crafted by the Oliviero Pigini company of Recanati, Italy, founded in 1959. From the outset, the firm concentrated on accordion manufacturing and expanded into guitar production in the early ’60s. One of its accordion clients was the Lo Duca Brothers Musical Instruments company, of Milwaukee, which joined forces with the Italian manufacturer as the exclusive distributor of Eko guitars in the U.S.
Eko guitars and basses came in myriad styles and shapes; Strat-like instruments, semi-hollow electrics, the rocket-shaped Rokes, and even map-shaped instruments, a la National. There was even an early solidbody violin-shaped bass.
The 995 was just different enough from the Höfner 500/1 “Beatle bass” to conjure its own mystique. Like the 500/1, it was a short-scale, two-pickup instrument. Unlike the 500/1, it was equipped with the sort of cheesy appointments often associated with Italian-made instruments.
One of the 995’s most intriguing aesthetic features is the square protuberance on its headstock. With its gothic E logo, it certainly was eye-catching compared to other headstocks and logos of the era – and certainly did not give off a rock-and-roll vibe! The bound rosewood fretboard on the one shown here has 21 frets, and joins the body at the 16th (Lo Duca literature claimed the fretboard was ebony). The hyper-slim bolt-on neck has five-piece laminate construction – maple with rosewood stringers. It measures 1 3/8″ wide at the nut, and there’s a zero fret. The serial number is embossed on the neck plate.
The Oliviero Pigini company also made Vox guitars and basses in the same era, and this Eko has the same truss rod adjustment system (at the end of the neck) as the Vox Saturn Bass (VG, May, 2010). The different-sized dot markers on the fretboard are also found on the Saturn.
The body is 13″ wide and 2 3/4″ deep. It has an arched spruce top, birdseye maple back and sides, and three-layer binding (white/black/white) on the edge. Its Dura-Glos finish is called Honey Brown. Electronics include two height-adjustable pickups with staple-type polepieces. A Lo Duca Brothers catalog refers to them as having “double polarity,” inferring they’re humbuckers.
The four-position pickup toggle has a standard three-way operation plus an “off” position. Control knobs are master Volume and master Tone. Hardware includes budget-grade tuners, a harp-shaped tailpiece, and a bridge that once again invites comparison to Vox. Like the Saturn Bass, it has adjustable saddles for height and intonation under the snap-on cover. The base of the bridge is rosewood.
The pickguard is made from clear plastic with the gold logo screenprinted on the underside followed by the application of brown paint. The oversized white finger rest is also plastic.
The 995’s popularity means that variants of the bass will be encountered, including examples that have a standard three-way pickup toggle switch instead of the four-position rotary switch seen here. Alternate tuners will be encountered, as will white or black pickguards, and black pickups.
Eko also made hollowbody violin-shaped guitars, marketing them as the 395 series, which included a six-string with a trapeze tailpiece, a six-string with a vibrato, and a 12-string model.
In the late ’60s, the frontline endorsers for Eko’s 395 and 995 instruments were the Grass Roots (“Temptation Eyes,” “Let’s Live for Today,” etc.), and the band appeared in an ad to promote the models. In the same era, left-handed bassist Doug Lubahn (VG, February ’10) played a flipped-over 995 (strung “righty”) with his own band, Clear Light, and used the instrument as the in-studio bassist for the Doors on songs such as “You’re Lost Little Girl,” “People Are Strange,” and “I Can’t See Your Face In My Mind,” among others.
“The Eko had a beautifully-rounded sound if you played it with a pick,” Lubahn recalled in his interview. “If you plucked with fingers, though, it didn’t sound so hot!” More recently, Les Claypool (of Primus) has been seen plunking on a vintage 995.
Eko must have been doing something right with the 995, considering its popularity in its time. It wasn’t the fanciest “Beatle bass” wanna-be, but it wasn’t the worst of the genre, either. When they see it, many a babyboomer player will nod their head and mutter, “Yeah, I remember those…”
This article originally appeared in VG February 2011 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.