George Bowen: Christian Trujano/Pleasanton Weekly.
Luthier George Bowen passed away August 19 from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS). He was 69.
In March of 2023, a tribute concert billed as the George Bowen Master Guitar Summit was held in Livermore, California. Featuring Arlen Roth, Bill Kirchen, Redd Volkaert, and Jim Soldi, it raised $75,000 for the ALS Research Project. Unable to play guitar at that stage, Bowen and his brother, Paul Richards, sang a moving rendition of Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Boxer,” backed acoustically by Roth and Soldi.
Bowen grew up near San Diego and eventually opened Bowen Guitars in Pleasanton. Barney Roach, collector and bassist with the Blitz Brothers, befriended him in second grade. “We played in the orchestra together from junior high to high school,” he recalls. “George was a dedicated musician early on, carrying his upright bass – larger than he was – a mile and a half to his house, up one of the steepest hills in La Jolla.”
In the ’70s, George and Paul toured and recorded as Bowen & Richards. A veteran of Johnny Cash and Ricky Skaggs’ bands, Soldi met the pair in the studio. “George was the most humble and positive guy you’ve ever met,” he says. “But even with all the talent, he knew his path wasn’t as a rock star. His first love was always his family, so I rarely got to see him after he retired from playing. I was blown away when he called to say he wanted to build a guitar for me – and what a magnificent instrument it is! His attention to detail was insane. I was gutted when he called me shortly after I received it, to tell me that it was probably the last guitar he would build, because of the ALS diagnosis.”
George, however, lived to see one more guitar to completion. Overseeing the work done by his son, Andrew, it was made of wood salvaged from the Frauenkirche Cathedral, in Munich, which was bombed by the Allies during World War II. Hence, its name, The Resurrection.
“Dad had a passion for guitars his whole life,” says Andrew, 39. “It all started in his teens, when he heard ‘The Boxer.’ The intro made him realize what he wanted to do. His aim was to make a guitar that was balanced and present – a slightly deeper, little wider version of an OM.”
Years after George read about the existence of the wood, he went to Germany to purchase some in April of 2019. “The cathedral was finished in 1490,” he told me in 2023. “It was bombed in 1944. So for approximately 454 years, this roof truss absorbed the sounds of daily choirs, the organ, seven different church bells, and vibrations of sermons, concerts, and funerals – shaping the wood’s unique tone and character.
“Through dendrochronology, they have dated the origin of this tree to the year 1081. It was cut down by peasants in the Alps in approximately 1460, and the logs were floated down the Isar River to Munich to build the new cathedral. There was an article written in Guitar Salon in 2017 about a classical guitar made from this tonewood, along with a few dozen violins. To my knowledge, I purchased the last wood suitable for a steel-string acoustic guitar. As a side note, this wood is the exact same species of Alpine spruce used by Stradivarius, but approximately 200 years older.”
“That was the first guitar that I actually completed,” Andrew explains. “I did it all under the supervision of my dad; I would just do what he told me. He had only bent the sides and made the rosette. I also took it to Minnesota to have James Olson help me with the binding.”
Andrew did everything else – bracing, neck, bridge – by hand. “The back and sides are AAAAA Brazilian rosewood. It helped to have that incredible spruce top. It’s got music in it. Because of its age, it had all kinds of blemishes and worm holes, but we preserved it that way intentionally, with a satin finish, to keep the history intact.”
On April 6, 2024, acclaimed country/gospel fingerstylist Doyle Dykes premiered the Resurrection during a concert near Bowen’s shop in Pleasanton. “It’s an extraordinary story,” he says. “I didn’t know what to expect. I carry another guitar on tour, just in case, and I’d never met George in person or played the guitar. But it blew me away. It already sounded seasoned. I’ve been flying it around and playing it pretty much every weekend since.”
“An accidental meeting led to a wonderful relationship, and his friendship and his wonderful guitar craftsmanship meant so much to me,” Arlen Roth adds. “George was a great man with a truly great legacy that will live on always.”
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Photo courtesy of Gibson. Jerry Douglas: Scott Simontacchi.
Dobro master Jerry Douglas’ first solo album in seven years, The Set mixes old and new compositions painting gorgeous rural landscapes with his amazing band. Cello and violin mingle with the best dobro player in the land, along with a sublime cover of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”
There’s nothing quite like you playing a resonator with a cello.
They’re both reedy and vocal. It’s a good combination. I love playing in this band (laughs).
What’s the difference between a dobro and a resophonic guitar?
They’re the same thing (laughs)! There was a big scare years ago. Dobro got tired of people calling everything that looked like a dobro a dobro, so they had to come up with another term.
Dobro is like Kleenex. Paul Beard, Tim Scheerhorn, and other great luthiers are building resophonic guitars based on the Dopyera Brothers’ model. I still call it a dobro because “resophonic” doesn’t roll off the tongue. At this point, there isn’t a Dobro maker. Gibson bought Dobro and squandered it. Personally, I would like to buy the name and forget it. There are so many guitars that are better than the original, but they don’t have that sound. The Dopyera Brothers got so lucky. They got that sound with the same circumference that we use now. It was invented in 1927.
What gave you the idea for The Set?
People were asking, “Where can I find all these songs?” So, I decided to cut our setlist. I wanted to [record] songs that people hadn’t heard in a long time. This band does those songs. I wrote “From Ankara to Izmir” 30 years ago and originally cut it with lap steel, drums, electric bass, and a whole bunch of other stuff. The way I do it now really opens up the song.
When you write a song and record it the first time, you don’t know it. You haven’t played it 200 times and created a personal relationship with it. It’s just notes and an arrangement. But it becomes liquid – it moves, and as a band, we know what each of us is doing. We’re like one instrument instead of four.
I wanted to cut a record that had a bunch of songs you couldn’t get anymore. I was on a label in 1981 that doesn’t have my recordings. A lot of my early Rounder Records stuff disappeared, and it was tough to get the music. So, I cut a record on my own, started my own label, and own it all. We can play our set, then you can buy the vinyl or CD if you like, and take us home.
But there are newer songs, as well.
I added stuff like “The Fifth Season.” I thought it was important for the guys to have a song on the record – three new songs that no one had ever heard, so it’s a band record.
Was “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” on your setlist before the album?
No. I’d never played it, but it laid so easily on the guitar. It fits the instruments so well, and it’s such an iconic melody. I played it with Eric Clapton during the Transatlantic Sessions in London. He’d never played the chorus because he’d always sung it. I love the song, and it fits right in amongst the other numbers.
What brand of resophonics do you use?
I play Paul Beard guitars. He makes everything – the cone, the cover plate, and all the metal parts, plus the woodworking. I’ve played a lot of resonators – R.Q. Jones in the ’80s and early ’90s, and Scheerhorns, which are beautiful, like furniture. I now have three signature models through Paul, and the one I play most is called the Black Beard. It’s mahogany, but the tone is different. It’s amazing.
Paul is building me a baritone, so I’ll be able to go down to open D. I have a double Hipshot on my signature guitar that can change tuning from G to a drop D; the B drops to an A and the third string drops from a G to an F#.
What’s next?
I’m just looking for the sound and haven’t found it yet. I’m chasing something.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
PRS hits on its long-running trifecta – versatility, playability, aesthetic appeal – with its new twist on the electric/acoustic hybrid, the SE Custom 24 Semi-Hollow Piezo.
The visuals hook you first. Our tester in Vintage Sunburst had a flame-maple veneer on its carved top, matched on the headstock and contrasted by a coffee-brown rosewood fretboard – which was inlaid with those signature birds, from the falcon to the owl. Ivory-colored binding outlined the headstock, neck, and body.
The neck is inviting and comfortable thanks to its full “wide thin” carve, a buzz-free fretboard, and a setup consistent with PRS quality. The maple neck is set into the semi-hollow mahogany back, which is topped with maple beneath the veneer.
Made in Indonesia, this SE Custom 24, plays like an electric but offers acoustic tones thanks to the LR Baggs-designed piezo pickup mounted to the tremolo bridge (ever used a vibrato bar on an acoustic before? It’s trippy). On the electric side, two 85/15 “S” humbuckers deliver characteristic PRS tones, selectable with a three-way blade. Coil tapping via the push/pull Tone knob doubles its sonic options.
PRS versatility follows all the way to the dual output jacks. the Mix/Piezo jack merges piezo and magnetic signals, blending as desired with their discrete Volume controls. Alternately, signals can be separated by connecting the Mix/Piezo jack to an acoustic amp or DI and the Mag jack to a traditional electric-guitar amp. In our view, this guitar stands above other hybrids by fully answering the need for a quality electric, a warm and natural amplified acoustic, or a blend of the two – not as a compromise of each. That’s six selections on the humbuckers, along with a piezo, a dialable blend of piezo and mags, two output options, and a vibrato, all on a well-crafted smokeshow of a guitar. Can it make an espresso, too?
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Nearly 60 years after “For Your Love” – the hit that prompted him to leave the Yardbirds – Clapton can pick the material he wants, documented on this eclectic, mostly-mellow release. Meanwhile combines EC’s love of melody and nostalgia with controversial Covid-era singles, many railing against lockdown or politicians (like ex-British PM Boris Johnson, who gets eviscerated in “Pompous Fool”).
Eric Clapton
Meanwhile
Slowhand, who turns 80 this year, makes use of famous friends. Guitarists will be interested in the Mancini/Mercer classic “Moon River,” with Clapton on vocals and the late Jeff Beck’s faux-slide wizardry. It’s stunning – and generous of Clapton to let El Becko have all the guitar glory. Van Morrison joins him for “The Rebels” and two other tracks. “Sam Hall” is a gorgeous Celtic ballad, with Dobro from Nashville maestro Jerry Douglas, who also appears with country-gospel singer Bradley Walker for “Always On My Mind” (a tribute for Willie Nelson’s 90th birthday) while Clapton revisits reggae on “One Woman” with tasty-as-hell Strat licks.
Love him or loathe his social commentary, Meanwhile is a polished, laid-back mix of songs. Clapton is certainly older, but his guitar work and voice remain on-point. He’s not done yet.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2025 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Check out Kid Ramos using a ’56 Harmony H62 running through a vintage Fender reverb tank and a Pro Junior to play an improv jam. For the biker-curious, that’s his ’67 Harley-Davidson Electra Glide shovelhead “dresser,” which still wears its original paint and a couple of 1950 Cushman scooters. Catch our review of Kid’s new album,“Strange Things Happening,” and an interview with him, both in the August issue. Read Now!
Bill Brown’s United Guitars archtop, straight from the ’50s, and Brian Mckenney’s ’98 Guild Starfire IV.
Can someone please explain the differences between playing an instrument with jumbo frets versus one with smaller/shorter frets? – John Mackey
Until you master playing with tall frets, it’s very easy to press the string too hard/farther than needed to create the note, because the flesh of your finger will push until it hits the fretboard and cause the note to go sharp. This is true even if you use low action (height from bottom of the string to top of fret) and the guitar has been well-intonated at the saddle.
Low frets don’t have nearly the same issue, but touch/over-pressing a string is still something that must be mastered. – Dan Erlewine
I recently picked up a ’50s archtop with what looks like early Franz pickups. There’s no logo on the headstock or serial numbers anywhere. Could it be from United Guitar, in New Jersey? There’s not a lot of info on them floating around. It’s well-played and needed a little binding repair, but man, it sounds and plays great, and came with what looks like the original pickguard and bridge, but also with an added Bigsby. – Bill Brown
This is definitely a United Guitars product, made in Jersey City – the 17″ single-cut archtop being close to their top-line model. And it’s almost certainly from the ’50s. Non-cutaway archtop electrics appeared in the mid ’30s and, after a hiatus for World War II, returned in the late ’40s.
Gibson is credited with introducing the single-cutaway hollowbody electric with the ES-350P in 1947. An immediate success, by the ’50s, all makers were offering a version, and United continued making them as late as 1960. By that time, however, demand for thinline and solidbody electrics had far surpassed the big-bodies.
Little is known about United Guitars except they were an OEM manufacturer whose main customers were New York City distributors Peter Sorkin (Premier), Buegeleisen & Jacobson (S.S. Stewart), and Maurice Lipsky (Orpheum). United was descended from the Oscar Schmidt guitar company, itself preceded by the Menzenhauer Guitar-Zither Company (founded 1879), both also of Jersey City.
In 1896, Oscar Schmidt became a partner of Menzenhauer, then sole owner in 1900. Schmidt’s company expanded quickly and was making a million instruments annually by 1903, and by ’25 claimed to be the world’s largest instrument manufacturer. Its own primary brands were Stella and Sovereign, but its bread and butter was making instruments for Sears and Montgomery Ward.
Oscar Schmidt passed away in 1929. By ’32, the company was in receivership, and when the bank failed in ’35, assets were taken over by John Carver. In ’37 or ’38, brand names Stella and Sovereign were sold to the Harmony Company (which introduced its versions of Oscar Schmidt instruments in ’39). Its guitar-making equipment was sold to a group of Italian luthiers who likely had been Oscar Schmidt employees and subsequently established United, which built guitars not much later than 1960, likley unable to withstand the assault of low-cost guitars from Japan.
Your guitar may have begun life as an Orpheum Symphonic, an S.S. Stewart Wondertone, or an early Premier. The logo plate being removed and the refin make it difficult to say, but the neck, back, and sides were probably a dark sunburst, the top perhaps sunburst.
That three-way switch replaced the pointer-knob pickup selector. It, along with the Volume and Tone knobs, would have been white Bakelite, as would the original pickguard. The bridge may or may not be original, but the Waverley tuners appear to be.
The pickups are likely original, though the neck unit looks to have been turned – pole pieces on both should face the neck. Made by the Fransch Electric Company in Queens, they were indeed sometimes called “Franz,” and were also supplied to Guild and a few other guitar companies.
United Guitars are almost always better in quality than you’d expect. The company’s luthiers were experienced, but, as OEM manufacturers, they were building for clients (jobbers) whose niche was selling a few price points lower than premium brands. Picture the shop salesman: “Look, son… I understand that you can’t afford this expensive Guild right now, but I have this other very pretty guitar that might just fit your budget.”
Just because they weren’t called “Gretsch” doesn’t mean they couldn’t be great-playing guitars, and now, they’re genuine pieces of history. – Michael Wright
I have a Guild Starfire IV with a serial number of AG1260. It’s in like-new condition with no dings or scratches. Can you tell me more about the Starfire line, when mine was made, and an approximate value? – Brian Mckenney
Guild serial numbers in the mid/late 1990s were incomplete, but the last Starfire IV listed in ’97 is AG937, so yours is likely from ’98. In all-original/excellent condition, The Official Vintage Guitar Price Guide 2025 puts the value at $1,500 to $2,000.
The Starfire IV, V, and VI were thin/semi-hollow guitars with a center block, similar to Gibson’s ES-335, while their predecessor Starfire I, II, and III were fully hollow with a single florentine cutaway. – Jay Pilzer
From the same mother: Kit Kildahl’s Crestwood and Michael Wright’s Ventura V-1007.
I have a Crestwood copy of a Gibson ES-175 that I believe is carved, not laminated. The fit and finish are top-quality and it’s a joy to play, but I can’t find any real information on it. – Kit Kildahl
What you have is a Crestwood-branded Ventura from the 1970s, made in Japan for Kaman Corporation’s distributing subsidiaries.
The Ventura brand was central to a number of important developments. By ’71, Kaman was enjoying success with its novel Ovation guitars and expanded its distribution channels by purchasing Coast Wholesale Companies, in California, and C. Bruno of New York/San Antonio. Both were promoting high-quality Japanese guitars.
Most (not all) early Japanese guitar makers were OEM manufacturers who would put whatever brand the customer wanted on guitars, much like Kay and Harmony in the U.S. Ventura was one of the marks used by C. Bruno by ’68, possibly earlier.
It’s not known exactly when Bruno began importing an ES-175 copy it called the V-1007, but it wasn’t in the 1970 Ventura catalog. Sellers today claim all sorts of dates beginning in the late ’60s, but a good guess would be it first appeared in ’73/’74 and was offered at least into ’78.
Ventura guitars were from the “copy era,” during which Japanese manufacturers dented the American market with “copies” of popular models. Ironically, the strategy coincided with a slide in quality control among the big American companies. As the Japanese got progressively better at duplicating, American makers became increasingly alarmed. By ’76, Gibson’s lawyers were sending threatening letters, and in June of ’77, Norlin (the parent of Gibson) filed suit in Philadelphia Federal Court against Elger (the American partner of Hoshino/Ibanez), demanding they stop infringing on Gibson’s “open-book” headstock design.
During its run, the V-1007 had two headstocks – open-book and later, a more-rounded crown without the dip. It’s probable this change occurred to avoid the implications of Gibson’s lawsuit, which would date the headstock to around ’77. It’s also possible the difference was completely random.
Venturas are typically thought to have been built in the Matsumoku factory, in Matsumoto, which opened in 1951 to make cabinets for Singer sewing machines as well as for audio and television makers. In ’63, it began making classical guitars and violins, then ramped up to make electric guitars and basses, eventually producing some of the finest electric guitars of the ’70s and early ’80s.
The typical technique for making an archtop in Japan was to use heat and steam while pressing the wood into a curve. However, Matsumoku was an early pioneer in CNC technology, so the top could on yours could have been “carved” by machine.
Ventura guitars were distributed by C. Bruno and/or Coast, and we may never know how the Crestwood brand fit, historically. But we know it was used by a high-volume customer – maybe a regional chain or a smaller importer/distributor who ordered directly from Matsumoku. – Michael Wright
Special thanks to Michael Newton. This column addresses questions about guitar-related subjects, ranging from songs, albums, and musicians to the minutiae of instrument builds, manufacturers, and the collectible market. Questions can be sent to ward@vintageguitar.com with “VG Q&A” in the subject line.
This article originally appeared in VG’s December 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Live from the dressing room at Wembley Arena just before a sold-out performance with Billy Idol, Steve Stevens uses his signature Ciari Guitars Ascender Premier in Josie Pink (plugged into a Positive Grid Spark) to give us a detailed look at the riffs he plays on “77,” the new single from Idol’s “Dream Into It.” Catch our review of the guitar and interview with Steve talking about it and the new music in the August issue. Read Now!
Throughout his career, Gary Moore was haunted by a prevailing assumption (in rock circles) that he was simply too good to gain mass popularity. An accomplished, soulful vocalist and genuine guitarist’s guitarist, his versatility and technical mastery enabled him to move effortlessly from blues, rock, and power pop to metal, techno, hard rock, fusion, and Celtic, all while maintaining an uncompromising musical personality.
Largely ignored by critics and woefully unknown to the average listener, Moore changed his trajectory after two decades in hard rock and reemerged as the consummate blues-rock champion on his eighth solo studio album, 1990’s Still Got the Blues.
The timing was ideal, as his style resonated with the public after a decade that saw the rise of Stevie Ray Vaughan and Jeff Healey, the return of Robben Ford, and a renewed appetite for guitar-centric blues.
Still Got the Blues is a defining document. Moore and co-producer/engineer Ian Taylor gathered a who’s-who of British rock luminaries and session players: keyboardists Don Airey (Ozzy Osbourne, Deep Purple), Nicky Hopkins (Jeff Beck, Stones), Mick Weaver (Traffic, David Gilmour), bassists Bob Daisley (Ozzy, Black Sabbath), Andy Pyle (Blodwyn Pig, Savoy Brown, Wishbone Ash), and drummers Brian Downey (Thin Lizzy) and Graham Walker. Horns adorned numerous tracks with trumpeters Stuart Brooks, Raul D’Oliveira, and Martin Drover, as well as saxophonists Frank Mead, Nick Payn, and Nick Pentelow. A string section led by Gavyn Wright complemented several arrangements. On guitar, Moore was joined by Albert King, Albert Collins, and George Harrison.
Tactically, he prized spontaneity, freedom, and humanity during the sessions. Despite the impression of a carefully crafted work, the album was largely recorded live with no overdubbing and “mistakes left in” (see if you can find ’em).
From Moore’s second solo in “Oh Pretty Woman,” this lick illustrates his command and the way he modernized blues idioms. His minor-pentatonic and traditional blues scales and string bending are at the forefront, particularly potent in the major-third bend into the ninth tone in measure 8. Also noteworthy is the virtuosic double-timing in 3-4, 6, and 8-9. These flourishes are endemic to the shredder side of his persona and allude to his playing in hard rock and metal, which are highly effective into a blues setting.
Recording took six weeks. Favoring the classic British blues-rock sound, Moore eschewed rackmount effects and superstrats and chose the reliable and definitive Les Paul-into-Marshall combination. He used a newly acquired ’59 Standard (dubbed “Stripe,” it bore serial number 9 2227 and was thought to be Ronnie Montrose’s long-lost guitar) that soon became his main guitar, along with Peter Green’s ’59 Standard, “Greeny,” which Moore had owned since 1970. Both had original PAF pickups. Strat timbre is heard on “Texas Strut,” likely the same ’61 Fiesta Red model he played at Montreux in ’90. He plugged into an early reissue Marshall JTM45 head with 5881 tubes feeding a 1960B 4×12 stack containing Electro-Voice speakers. Additional saturation and sustain came via a Marshall Guv’nor overdrive pedal simulating JCM800 gain. Onstage, he often relied on Soldano SLO-100 heads (with Guv’nor or Ibanez Tube Screamer TS10 on the Clean+Crunch channel). He preferred Dean Markley 2504B (.010-.052) string sets and extra-heavy (1.14mm 351 shape) celluloid picks.
The program featured five Moore originals presenting facets of his eclectic blues vision, six standards, and a surprise contribution from Harrison. The results were inescapable. Released March 12, Still Got the Blues reached #83 on Billboard the following February and garnered Gold by November ’95. It remains Moore’s most successful album, having reset his journey as a reinvented blues-rock hero in the age of grunge, alternative, and nu-metal.
The opening track, “Moving On,” is an artistic metaphor marking his departure from ’80s pop-metal and commercial hard rock. A straightforward “road” travelogue cruising atop a groove-driven/riff-based arrangement backed by Weaver, Pyle, Walker, it’s laden with Open A slide licks (which Moore played standard-tuned in live performances) reminiscent of Joe Walsh, Billy Gibbons, and Duane Allman. These attributes convey a simpler country-inflected blues-rock feeling, recall his slide playing with Thin Lizzy, and set the stage for the album’s proceedings.
“Oh Pretty Woman” is a towering blues classic elevated by the participation of the legendary Albert King. Ostensibly recalling Mayall’s Bluesbreakers ’67 version (featuring Mick Taylor) with its four-piece horn section and Airey’s B3, it’s heavier and more aggressive, pitting Moore’s saturated tone against King’s cleaner, brighter twang. Moore feels his way through two ferocious white-knuckle solos offset by King’s laidback chorus, then ends the tune with a virtuosic cadenza reminiscent of his fusion episodes in Colosseum II. The album’s first single, it was released March 5.
“Walking By Myself” updates Jimmy Rogers’ early-’50s Chicago blues. Weaver on piano and Frank Mead on harmonica sweeten the flavor, alluding to Otis Spann and Little Walter while Moore adds rock swagger and distortion to the mid-tempo shuffle. Notable are ’80s tapping and quick technical flurries in his solo alongside a paraphrase of “Dust My Broom” mixing modern power rock with traditionally laid-back blues. It was released as the third single on August 6.
“Still Got the Blues” demonstrates the range of Moore’s style. Assuming a very melodic character, he’s explicit in the vocalesque phrasing and thoughtful note selection, highlighting sophisticated harmonic sounds inherent in the cycling chord changes. Note the emphasis of sweet major-seventh tones – B and E over C major and F major in measures 4-5 and 12-13 from hexatonic sources and inclusion of G# and F over E7 in 7. These phrases convey a jazz-informed, sax-like sensibility while his pentatonic blues melody (as in the specific minor pentatonic lines in 14 over Bm7b5) and idiomatic string bends are solidly steeped in blues-guitar tradition.
“Still Got the Blues,” a masterpiece of sophistication and soul, embodied Moore’s aspirations and tangents reexamined through the blues prism. The culmination of his nuanced melodic stye heard earlier in “Parisienne Walkways” and other pieces, the title track proved he could imbue any harmonic pattern (here the same well-used minor cycle-of-fifths progression heard in “Autumn Leaves” or “I Will Survive”) with his emotional blues feeling and singing sustaining lines, much in the way Santana did in “Europa.” The arrangement was complemented by Wright’s lush string orchestration, Hopkins’ piano, and Airey’s keyboards. Gary’s harmonically astute rock sensibilities were glimpsed in “Still in Love With You,” “Empty Rooms,” and “The Loner,” but reached a zenith in “Still Got the Blues” – reconciling his jazz acumen with rock attitude while reaffirming claim to an uncharted sector of the blues-rock universe. The album’s second single, it was released April 30, and was Moore’s only single to make the U.S. charts (#97).
“Texas Strut” brings allusions to ZZ Top-fueled boogie including “how-how” field-holler quotes and a reworked turnaround straight out of “La Grange,” along with SRV-inspired singing and overdriven-Strat sound. The mood is raw, loose, and serves as perfect contrast to the previous track’s complexity.
“Too Tired,” by Johnny “Guitar” Watson, is one of the genre’s lesser-known (but indispensable) pieces, here given a powerful treatment with punchy horn-section accents reminiscent of Watson’s ’55 recording, Airey’s piano, and musical sparring with Albert Collins, who sat in at the London studio while performing in town. The friendly-fire guitar dialog was achieved in two live takes and was the album’s final single, released in November of ’90.
“King of the Blues” was Moore’s tribute to Albert King. To strengthen the requisite Stax connection, Moore adds a small horn section and Airey’s Booker T-inspired B3 to the funk-blues groove; he begins with signature Steve Cropper double stops and progresses to King-inspired lead fills throughout verses. Also in character are a quoted piece of the “Born Under a Bad Sign” riff and aggressive soloing replete with stylistically correct wide bends. The ode is enlarged with lyric references to King’s famous songs and titles. Hardly derivative or unimaginative, his approach suggests a modernization and reverence of the original blues formula, and its constituent parts, in an evolved form.
“As the Years Go Passing By,” Albert King’s moody minor-blues ballad from ’67, is given an atmospheric treatment with light tenor/baritone-sax backing, Hopkins’ tinkling piano solo and Airey’s sustained B3 pads over the melancholy dirge-like pulse and quiet, introspective interpretation. Rock cognoscenti know this piece inspired Clapton’s “Layla,” but Moore breathes new life into it by returning King’s soulful cachet. His solo delivers taut, space-conscious phrases colored with degrees of overdrive, dynamic shadings and attack, rhythmic placement, touch sensitivity, subtle bends, and ghosted notes offering gentle nuance in contrast to his signature aggressive rock approach.
An inspired performance, “As The Years Go Passing By” summarizes Moore’s approach to slow minor blues. Understated, it’s one of the finest and most emotional solos of the album. Like King’s version, it’s in C minor and largely exploits sparser pentatonic blues melody decorated with soulful string bends. He begins with a quote of the tune’s famous opening lick (“Layla”), indulges in slinky double-timing in measures 6-8 that alludes to Peter Green’s mercurial phrasing, and pursues an ultra-sensitive approach to dynamics, often varying touch and volume dramatically within a single measure.
“Midnight Blues” is smoldering slower blues/rock in the minor mode, distinguished by a haunting main ensemble riff, colored with strings and Weaver’s electric piano. Gary cultivates a mildly overdriven tone and understated soloing to present another dimension of his improviser persona, echoing a storyline of loneliness and the blues’ dark side.
Straddling the line dividing blues, pop, gospel, and jazz, he chooses distinctive colors from the pentatonic-hexatonic palette of blues melody, tastefully incorporating the hexatonic’s evocative jazzy ninth extended tones as melody notes over Cm7 and Fm7, in strong contrast to the album’s heavier mood.
“That Kind of Woman,” originally written for Clapton, was given to Moore by Harrison. Though they were neighbors and friends, it was their first time collaborating in the studio. Recorded in Harrison’s 24-track home studio – initially as a duo with only a Linn drum-machine guide track and dubbed guitars. Procedurally, it is the album’s outlier – the only piece to build layered lead and backing vocals, rhythm, harmony guitars, and slide parts. The master track ultimately flaunted a four-piece horn section that colored and toughened the arrangement, lending an R&B feel to the Stones-influenced riff rocker. Accordingly, Stones alumnus Hopkins overdubbed supportive piano touches.
“All Your Love” brings the album full-circle to a life-changing moment in Gary’s youth. Modern blues-rock began with the explosive opener by John Mayall with Eric Clapton that inspired generations of that included Jimi Hendrix, Tony Iommi, Brian May, Eddie Van Halen, et al. The experience was similarly stunning for Gary in ’66, and with this he openly paid tribute. Sporting a similar Beano-approved quartet with Weaver’s B3, Moore reignites Otis Rush’s classic with an even heavier, more-saturated Les Paul/Marshall tone, heralding the continuing dominance of hard blues-rock.
“Stop Messin’ Around” closes the opus with a reverential nod to Peter Green, the pivotal guitarist of Mayall’s second Blues Breakers lineup. This piece comes from the ’68 single, announcing the premier of Fleetwood Mac, Green’s blues band formed after leaving Bluesbreakers. The quartet-with-piano arrangement is augmented by Mead’s sax work and the cruising 12-bar shuffle provides a perfect backdrop for Moore’s allusions to Green’s singable call-and-response blues phrasing. Moreover, the tone captures Green’s “out of phase” guitar sound and likely emanated from Greeny.
Wolf Marshall is the founder and original Editor-In-Chief of GuitarOne magazine. A respected author and columnist, he has been influential in contemporary music education since the early 1980s. His latest book is Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language. Others include 101 Must-Know Rock Licks, B.B. King: the Definitive Collection, and Best of Jazz Guitar. A list credits can be found at wolfmarshall.com.
This article originally appeared in VG’s December 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Rory Gallagher and Taste onstage in Germany, January, 1970, with drummer John Wilson and bassist Richard “Charlie” McCracken.
The ’60s may have been the most musically significant decade in the history of popular music, but very few countries were represented then or in the years that followed. Fronted by Van Morrison, Them emerged from Ireland mid-decade and became popular in Europe, but were little-known in the U.S. Their countrymen in Thin Lizzy didn’t assemble until January of 1970, and while Eric Bell recorded a handful of historic riffs, Ireland’s first guitar hero was Rory Gallagher.
Lead guitarist in the Cork-based power trio Taste, Gallagher was just 15 when he began playing with the Fontana Showband in 1963 – the same year he acquired the used ’61 Stratocaster that has since become a legend unto itself. In ’66, Gallagher teamed with bassists Eric Kitteringham and drummer Norman Damery to form a blues-rock trio they dubbed Taste. They gigged for almost two years before splitting, after which Gallagher recruited bassist Richard “Charlie” McCracken and drummer John Wilson to create the band that released its self-titled debut album on Polydor.
Recorded in August of ’68 at De Lane Lea Studios, London, Taste was produced by Tony Colton, lead singer for Heads Hands and Feet (whose guitarist was Albert Lee). No-frills to the point of sounding primitive, its music was nonetheless impressive – imagine the Who paying homage to American bluesmen. Songs like “Blister on the Moon” and “Born on the Wrong Side of Time” crank with anthemic power chords and snarling lead lines that cut through like a laser.
Greg Martin, co-founder and lead guitarist in the Kentucky Headhunters, grew up listening to rock and blues in the ’60s, and recalls how Gallagher and Taste became an immediate influence on his style.
Whether playing a Precision or his three-knob Jazz, Richard “Charlie” McCracken often used the chrome pickup protector to rest his hand as he shifted picking positions from front (neck side) to back.
“What stood out to me about Rory and Taste was their rawness, aggressiveness, energy, and honesty,” he said. “Even as a trio, they weren’t merrily copying Cream or The Jimi Hendrix Experience. They had their own slant. I absolutely loved Rory’s playing from the start; he was inspirational. Once I got the first album, I was hooked.”
McCracken’s playing style was equally notable. While most Fender players removed the chrome covers from their basses, McCracken used the middle one to rest his hand while picking near the neck joint or between it and the bridge, often switching back and forth during a song. On “Dual Carriageway Pain” and “Blister on the Moon,” he plays rapid-fire riffs, often going note-for note with Gallagher.
Blues songs on Taste included a cover of Lead Belly’s “Leaving Blues” (with Gallagher playing slide) along with heavy blues-rock renditions of “Catfish Blues” and “Sugar Mama.”
Martin, a consummate tone freak, recalls the impression made by the raw sound of Gallagher’s Strat.
“He was a big influence. His tone was amazing, and I loved his use of pinch harmonics. He may have been the first guitarist I heard do that, and I quickly grabbed it as one of my tools.”
Rory Gallagher ’61 Stratocaster: Eleanor Jane, courtesy of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Also interesting is “Hail,” on which Gallagher accompanies himself on acoustic, singing while picking the melody. The bombast of “Catfish” is followed by a whimsical cover of Hank Snow’s “I’m Moving On” (with Gallagher on a resonator) that comes across like an afterthought.
After finishing the album – but before it was released – Taste opened for Cream durinw g its final concert at Royal Albert Hall on November 26, 1968. Others on that bill included Yes and Jon Hiseman’s Colosseum.
Taste’s second album, On the Boards, delivered a more-diverse set with blues, blues-rock, a bit of jazz (“It’s Happened Before, It’ll Happen Again” and the closer, “I’ll Remember”), and timely folk-rock (“See Here”). Recorded in late ’68, it wasn’t released until January 1, 1970. In that gap, Taste gigged in the U.S. as an opener for Blind Faith. That August, they delivered a strong set at the Isle of Wight festival, after which differences in musical direction and managerial problems pushed them to dissolve by year’s end. In ’71, Polydor released Live Taste and Live at the Isle of Wight.
Gallagher went on to forge a respectable solo career that has influenced three generations of guitarists. A true “player’s player,” he died June 14, 1995, following a liver transplant. He was just 47.
“Rory radiated charm and charisma,” Martin noted. “Watching video of him performing with Taste or solo, you could tell he absolutely loved what he did. There was nothing artificial or contrived in what he played; it was emotionally charged music at its finest. Any student of blues and rock guitar must listen to the first Taste album, then enjoy the journey through his entire catalog.”
This article originally appeared in VG’s December 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
George Benson: Matt Furman/Rhino-WMG. Benson with the prototype GB 45th SSR, with an adjustable tailpiece he designed.
Grammy winner and music legend George Benson has lived a guitarist’s dream. Bridging the gap between pop and jazz helped him sell millions of albums and made him a figurehead at the intersections of several genres. Always forward-thinking, he’s now entering a new phase in life, has a new album, and is preparing to host a retreat where everyday players will rub elbows with world-class musicians. He’s also preparing to sell some of his most-cherished guitars.
Your new album, Dreams Do Come True, was recorded in 1989 but never released. What’s the story behind it?
I happened to be with Quincy Jones. We had just finished the Give Me The Night album, which was very successful. I asked Quincy, “Who is the baddest arranger in the world?” It was an off-the-cuff question, but I wanted to know his opinion. He said, “Two names come to mind, but I think you would love Robert Farnon.”
I’d never heard of him. He said, “I think he’s from Canada, but moved to England.” I happened to be going to England to do a concert, and I ran into a guy who was a very good friend of his, and he introduced me. What a meeting it was; he was a very kind and astute gentleman who knew what he was talking about. He was doing some things with the London Symphony Orchestra, and he invited me to a recording session. He then wrote 17 arrangements for me in about three days. When I heard that stuff, I said, “Man, maybe I bit off more than I can chew!” I tried a couple of songs while we were there and said, “No. I’m going to take these arrangements back with me to New York.”
I worked on them for two or three weeks then presented it to the record company and they said, “George, we’re happy with the hits we’re making. We don’t need new ideas!” So, I put it away and I forgot all about it. Since then, Mr. Farnon passed away and that really made me forget all about it until I got a call from a guy in a warehouse who said, “Mr. Benson, we got some stuff here.” I said, “Read me some of the titles.” He said, “Robert Farnon, London.” I said, “Man! Send me that stuff!” He sent it, and I was just as amazed as I was the first time I heard it.
I found a way to transfer it to a digital format and it sounded so good because one of the engineers was great and it was in pristine condition. I had to put it back together and get in touch with Warner Records. They were interested 30-some years later! It took almost two years to finish, and when they heard it, they loved it.
Your voice is velvet on “Pretend.” It’s like you’re channeling Nat King Cole.
Oh, what a great era that was. But we also try to mix things up. That’s my goal when I record. I say, “Well, they might not like this tune, but maybe they’ll like the next one or the one after that.” That’s my idea. When I make records, I make it as if I was the listener; “Man, this is getting boring. Let me hear something else.” “Okay, this is better!” “Oh, this third one is interesting! Let me check it out!” That’s what I think about when I’m recording.
Your music has always been accessible. There’s no jazz snobbery or self-indulgence. You invite people to the party.
I like the words you use. Bring ’em to the party. That party thing is why people go out and why they do things. They’re looking for the energy. They’re looking for something that gives life that spice. Something that they didn’t do yesterday. Something they were looking forward to, and now it’s here. Let’s jam!
Guitar photos courtesy of Reverb. his Ibanez GB10 spent the last decade serving as Benson’s live/touring workhorse. This Ibanez GB20 is a one-off known in Benson’s camp as the Green Monster. Benson’s 1980 D’Aquisto.
They already know I can play… I hope they know by now. If I weren’t able, it would be purely evident by now and I would be working in a jewelry store somewhere (laughs). People expect something else. The people who come to my music are diverse. It’s not all the same vibe or people. Here’s what I tell all my jazz fans – the guy who comes to my shows might bring a girlfriend who might not care about jazz. It would be safe to say she’s looking to hear something more on the romantic side. I think that’s why my records are so successful, because I never forget that part.
I’m happy for the guy looking for some adventure. I’d say, “Hey man, have you heard this?” Bam! “Well, you should try this!” Pow! I like that, too, because it gives life the spice that it needs to keep you going.
When you headlined at the Hollywood Bowl, people of every race, creed, color, and age were dancing in the aisles.
That’s the way it was when I got to Europe. When I played London, the whole house stood up from the first song and never sat down. Even though they had very comfortable seats and the place was packed, when I played dance tunes or a love song, they loved it and were glad they came.
How intense was the ridicule in the ’70s between being respected as a serious jazz guitarist versus being popular among mainstream audiences?
I’ve faced years of controversy about what I do. But as I look back, the thing that affected my life in a big way was when I joined Jack McDuff’s band. I was 19 years old. I sat in with him the night before and he said, “Man, I like the way you play. You think you might like to join my band?” I said, “Oh, Mr. McDuff, I’m not ready for that. I’m a singer here in Pittsburgh, not a guitar player.” He said, “I don’t want no singin’ in my band! I don’t like singers! They take too much attention away from the musicianship!”
Somehow, I left town with him the next day. He called ahead and said, “I found this kid and I’m bringing him to New York!” I thought, “Wow, man. I’m really biting off a lot here!” But when he heard me play, he fired me the next night. He said, “I don’t think you’re going to make it with the band. But when we get to New York, I got a gig you’re gonna love.”
When we got to New York, he was thinking about putting me with a popular band called the Willis Jackson Band. But in Willis’ band, they had a new kid – Pat Martino, who at 17 was the best guitarist I’d ever heard in my life! I said, “One thing I know for certain: I won’t be taking his place!” (laughs)
The good thing that happened after all that craziness was the weeks it took to get back to New York from gigs in the Midwest. Jack McDuff’s manager heard the new band with me in it and said to McDuff, “Did I hear you say you were going to fire this kid?” McDuff said, “Yeah, why?” He said, “You can’t fire him. The band sounds better with him in it. I suggest we go into the studio and make a record.”
Benson’s Gibson Johnny Smith is the guitar heard on the Grammy-winning song “Breezin’,” which was recorded live in one cut. It spent some time at the Museum of Musical Instruments, displayed alongside the piano used by John Lennon to record “Imagine.” From Benson’s collection and bound for sale, a Gibson L-5 Wes Montgomery.
That was the beginning of a new career for me. From that time on, I was struggling to play something decent. Jack demurred and stayed on my back about everything I did – criticized me for everything. He kept on me doing something that I’d never thought I’d do – practice every day! I practiced and practiced, and got into the habit. Every day. That’s what made the difference. I made so much progress in two years that people started calling me a guitar player, and I got used to it.
They didn’t know I sang because Jack said it was a no-no. “Don’t open your mouth!” (laughs) So, I became known as a guitar player. If Jack gave you a solo and it was mostly blues, he’d give you 12 bars. If that first 12 bars was good, he’d allow you to play another 12. If that first 12 fell apart, he would say, “Alright… Saxophone!” It was like that the whole time I was with him.
I learned to strike up hot solos very fast because I had that mentality. If you ain’t playin’ good, ’bye! In New York, that became important because people would call me into the studio as a side man. All my solos were interesting to them because all the songs were three minutes and under. So, I became very popular and made a lot of interesting records with a lot of great people.
Speaking of education, you’re hosting a musician’s retreat in January.
There are some great cats on this retreat. I used to see most of those guys now and then, and they’re all top-flight guitar players. And the guys I don’t know as well, I’m certain they’re the best the world has to offer. It’s going to be great to see them all in one place. Usually, I’ll see one guy in Europe, one guy in this country or another guy in that country. I’d see two or three of them in the United States or Australia. Now, they’ll be up here with me in my territory. Lots of sunshine and beauty everywhere, and a few mountains here and there. There will be lots of space, and I expect this will be quite an event.
It’s called Breezin’ With The Stars, January 3 to 6 at the Wigwam Resort, in Phoenix. The list of instructors is mind-blowing – John Scofield, Tommy Emmanuel, Andy Timmons, Stanley Jordan, Isaiah Sharkey, and Rick Beato. Steve Lukather will be there. You’ve worked with him before.
Steve is a great guy and a great guitar player. He brought me a smash with “Turn Your Love Around.” We went around over that song, but wound up putting it on tape. When he heard it back, he said, “Uh, well, maybe (laughs).” But there was no “maybe” in it. That song went straight to the top of the charts. I said, “I’ve been trying to tell you, man! This is a great song!”
Lee Ritenour will also be there. He’s a big fan of yours.
What people don’t know is that at the beginning of “Give Me The Night,” Lee is playing one of the octave parts. I wondered why Quincy Jones called him. I couldn’t imagine him just being a side man on something. Lee is a monster, and Quincy used him because he didn’t particularly like my jazz-guitar sound. He wanted to get me out of the jazz routine. So, he had Lee tune me into a medium sound – something between rock and pop guitar. That’s why that record sounded the way it did – because of Lee Ritenour’s influence.
“[I always hear] something off the cuff or off the left side that I don’t expect to affect me. It makes me go home, pick up my guitar, and say, ‘How come I didn’t think of that?’”Is there an overview of what you’re trying to accomplish at the retreat?
I’ve never done anything like it, but it reminds me of something I was getting ready to do before Breezin’ came out. Howard Roberts came to one of my club dates and we talked about starting a camp in Portland. We were going to invite people from all over the world – like Kenny Burrell, Barney Kessel, and whoever was well-known at that time. I knew a lot of guitar players. It was a great idea, but never got off the ground because of Breezin’. I didn’t need the money anymore (laughs).
But this is a continuation of that idea, but better. The quality of the musicianship is just as good, but they’re more well-known, so we’re in a good position.
Will you participate in the sessions?
Whenever I can, I will, because I want to learn something, too (laughs)! I never shut my ears down, and [I always hear] something off the cuff or off the left side that I don’t expect to affect me. It makes me go home, pick up my guitar, and say, “How come I didn’t think of that?” I always add things to everything I learn. That’s the way I think. I’m not an educated musician; I’ve been to music schools, not as a student, but as a guest. I’ve sat in on classes and met some very astute musicians. I’ve learned to listen, and this is the time to keep that going and get some new ideas.
You’re an intuitive player rather than being a theory encyclopedia. Has that created a challenge communicating with musicians who are more analytical about music theory?
I’ve had invitations to teach at a few of the top music schools. I tell them, “Man, I can’t teach guitar. I play mostly by ear.” I have an understanding of simple harmony and theory, but I’m not educated; I don’t know how to use where or what. I know what sounds good to me, and I know how to get it.
You’re selling some of your guitars on Reverb.
A lot of guitars, and one of them is the Breezin’ guitar, which is unique. It’s the Gibson Johnny Smith that I bought on a whim, took to L.A., and the first time I played it was on that album. The first song I used it on was “Affirmation.” Everybody was so knocked out. I used a Polytone amplifier and had never played with that amp before. All the guitar players knew me for one sound that was going on with all the CTI records I made, but this had an excellent mellow sound with resonance and sustain, so it became very special.
What are some other notables you’ll be selling?
I have a D’Aquisto from 1980 that’s a fantastic instrument, and a lot of guitars I took on the road. There’s an Ibanez GB20 prototype, a lot of Ibanez GB10s that I designed over the years. Ibanez would send me things to wow me with their skills, and they have quite a bit of skill. They make guitars that last and don’t break down, and that’s why I signed with them. I used to drop guitars on the floor. You couldn’t pick up most guitars and play them, but you could with an Ibanez, and wouldn’t even have to tune it. You could pick it up and play!
Which guitar are you playing most right now?
I’m playing an old GB10 – one that Reverb will be selling. It’s been on the road for 20 years, but they’ll fix it up and make it look decent – but not too much! One time, I had a Wes Montgomery guitar with bullet holes in it! So, I had somebody fix it up, and everybody said, “Man, I wish you’d left the bullet holes in it (laughs).” Just to prove how old it is and what it had been through. So, I learned to not fix it up too much. Just make it workable and let ’em see the years and the wear on the guitar.
What’s your favorite amplifier right now?
The Fender Twin has always been my favorite amp. You can’t get the Polytone 104 anymore, and that was a great recording amp, but not a live amp. The Twin is versatile and always present. You can get any kind of sound out of it. If you don’t watch it, it’ll take over the show with all that high-end comin’ outta there, and all that presence. But it does it cleanly, and that’s the part I like.
Beyond the retreat, what’s on your calendar?
When I was putting together Dreams Do Come True, I found other stuff – tapes from my old house in the Bronx. I listened to some of them and said, “Man! I don’t think I was proficient at that time, but the music was there. Tasty stuff! So, I’m going through that now and seeing what’s usable. This is all the trio and quartet stuff I recorded in my garage between 1968 and ’75. The bands I had back then were magnificent.
This article originally appeared in VG’s December 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
