Austin Stalwart Goes Full Steam for “Apricot Brandy”
Jake Andrews was just eight years old when he sat in at Antone’s with an impressed Albert King, and not long after began sharing stages with an array of Texas blues greats. Here, he tears it up on a solo run through “Apricot Brandy,” from his new blues/rock instrumental album, “Train Back Home.” Supplying an ample dose of tone are his all-original ’61 Fender Esquire and ’59 Princeton. Catch our review of the album in the August issue. Read Now!
Drawing from a vast well of American R&B and soul, Josh Hoyer & Soul Colossal deliver powerhouse sounds from their home base in Nebraska.
On its latest, Green Light, the sextet melds Stax, Motown, Philly, and Muscle Shoals sounds, woven together by Hoyer’s gigantic voice and the superb guitar work of Benjamin Kushner. If you thought authentic R&B was a thing of the past, this band lends hope. VG asked Kushner to divulge his soulful secrets.
Classic R&B guitar is a lost art. How did you learn that style of playing?
I wouldn’t say the style is lost, it’s just harder to find. Listening to radio and recordings at home, thanks to my older siblings, I developed a passion for the propulsive nature of R&B rhythm guitar. My passions were amplified by hearing and observing great players like John Lee Hooker, David Pruitt of The Bel Airs, and many others onstage. Live music was the best lesson for me. Madison, Wisconsin, had the Club De Washington, where I learned from artists such as Paul Black and Andy Ewen. In Lincoln, we have The Zoo Bar and I am so thankful to learn from Magic Slim and Sean Benjamin. Live music has been an amazing inspiration.
What do you see as the guitar’s job in R&B and soul?
It’s fun because the guitar can have multiple roles. There’s the iconic attack of a high triad, or less, on the two and four beats. Some call that the “idiot” guitar – but don’t call it that until you’ve mastered it and placed your guitar in the pocket! It’s not so much harmonic as percussive – I enjoy feeling like part of the drum kit. Then harmonic layers can have tremolo or wah parts that bring that as well as funky feels.
A lot of what you do is centered around not overplaying, like on “Evolution.”
The idea of economy is crucial. Josh Hoyer’s writing insists on this and one must stay true to the songs. On the verses of “Evolution” I throw in a quiet C-minor triad with tremolo after the main phrases of rhythm guitar. But most of the time, when you say less, it means more.
There’s some rhythmic comping on “Harmony.” How did you develop your expert sense of timing?
Having good time is essential to me. I spent many hours with metronomes as a young player, and listened to great players sit in the pocket – as well as consciously push or pull back their time. “Harmony” gives me the opportunity to blend interesting harmonic structure, building into higher inversions as the verses progress, and incorporate funky time feels.
You take a full-on guitar solo on “Green Light.” There’s a lot of Chicago blues in there.
“Green Light” is a straight-up dance track! One of the coolest aspects of rhythm guitar is when you’re laying into the pocket just right and you can feel and see the listeners start to move! As far as the lead, Josh just kept telling me to “play sexy,” since he’s inviting someone to dance. That’s what came out of my Telecaster.
The wah is an important tool for you. Was Skip Pitts’ playing on the 1971 hit “Theme fromShaft” a key track in your life?
I love the “Shaft” theme, along with many wah classics, but I never used a wah until I joined Josh. I approached it with naive excitement. Never gratuitous, it must be played to the needs of the song, even in how you pump the pedal.
Who are your guitar influences?
I grew up listening to a diversity of music, thanks to family and friends. In jazz, Wes Montgomery, Grant Green, Django Reinhardt, and Joe Pass come to mind. In rock and roll, Santana and Brian May, plus Jimmy Nolen’s work with James Brown, Nile Rodgers, Eddie Roberts, Curtis Mayfield, and King Sunny Adé. Ry Cooder has had a huge influence on me since I was a teenager.
Describe your gear on the album.
Six of the songs were played on a Tele-style guitar made of Southern yellow pine by Phil Whitmarsh at Old Market Guitarworks here in Lincoln. The pine is more than 400 years old and came from the interior of an old building in Omaha’s Old Market, so it’s ideal. We chose Lollar pickups.
I also use a comfortable Frankencaster with an ash body and Squier neck. The amp is a ’65-reissue Deluxe, which we miked in the studio.
Soul music is back in a big way. Do you sense this resurgence when gigging with Soul Colossal?
Yes, I honestly feel like good soul music is always surging, one way or another. At its best, it’s heartfelt, personal, inviting, and often danceable – and can have very powerful lyrics.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2023 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Italian guitar virtuoso Daniele Gottardo’s latest album, Inkblot, combines the whimsy and wonder of the great early-20th-century classical composers with mind-blowing modern-rock guitar techniques. Sitting with a chamber orchestra, Gottardo’s symphonic vision is on display with multidimensional themes, spellbinding counterpoint, and epic pastoral passages. It’s also a banquet of two-handed tapping. More importantly, it’s a diary of an artist’s odyssey into the great unknown.
Why a classical record?
I was born a rock player influenced by American rock guitar. After a bit, I returned to my European roots and classical composers. I love Anatoly Lyadov’s orchestral stuff. His early 20th-century compositions have great use of color, harmony, orchestration, and moods. All the film composers stole from him. I also like early Stravinsky.
The making of Inkblot suggests a massive undertaking.
I began writing the album years ago. I did all the pre-production in Logic Pro and created all the sounds with virtual instruments. When I completed the full score, I started recording real instruments in Italy. The musicians could hear what it sounded like, and everything was written on paper. I wanted to listen to the feel of the real players.
At the end of the day, we recorded everyone like a pop record; I recorded woodwinds and percussion on different days. Because everyone was isolated, I was able to edit like a modern recording. After the string quartet was recorded, I could play it back for the woodwinds, and they could play over it. I didn’t have a big budget, but I had very good musicians who didn’t need rehearsals. After the woodwinds, we recorded piano and percussion. I had a pretty advanced mix by then, so I could play guitar over it.
What’s the album’s theme?
In the beginning, it was a collection of pieces that needed a coherent overall sound. With instrumental music, there are no lyrics, so the meaning can be personal for everybody. I like the idea that people can listen to a piece of music and find their own interpretation. Inkblot is a reference to the Rorschach Test, and the album is about a time of transition for me of moving from Italy to the United States. It was a time of intense psychological challenges. I had to learn a new language and immerse myself in a new culture. Right after I got my green card, they shut everything down because of the pandemic. This relates to the album’s theme because of all the changing feelings. There’s a bittersweetness to the album because of all the moods. The feelings are ineffable and abstract, and relate to the subconscious mind.
Your legato technique is effortless.
In my earlier stages, I liked to pick a lot. I’m very harmony oriented. Because I like harmony and arpeggios, legato is a good technique for that. I began studying legato and two-handed tapping because you can play big arpeggios. And because of my interest in classical composition, I began to listen to the woodwind family. Listening to these instruments helped me develop this kind of articulation, which is a more-complete term than “technique.” Playing softly comes from listening carefully to the woodwinds. Allan Holdsworth references the saxophone, but I listen to classical instruments. Legato doesn’t sound better than alternate picking; it’s all about the context. One of the challenges was placing the guitar within this sonic environment. Blending distorted guitars with soft instruments like strings and woodwinds can sound separate and doesn’t work.
How did you record guitar?
I used a Two-Rock Bloomfield Drive head because it has huge dynamics, and I needed to follow the dynamics of the music. The volume was going up and down. I had to follow the orchestra’s dynamics, and the Two-Rock was great for that. We had a three-amp system; dry signal was the Two-Rock with Gain all the way up, and we re-amped the wet signal using a Bogner Uberschall on one side and a Marshall JCM900 with a Pro Co Rat Distortion on the other. I recorded my takes very carefully, and it took a long time. The things I’m most happy about are not the compositions or the playing, but the blending of the electric guitar with the classical instruments.
Which guitar did you use?
It’s a Charvel Custom Shop with a scalloped fretboard starting at the fourth fret. I like it for bends, vibrato, and holding notes. It has jumbo frets, and my strings are .011s. I like to fight the instrument.
What’s next?
I have a side project where we do jazz-rock. I love improvisation, and spend a lot of time working on my chops. My next project will be more guitar-focused with trio stuff, but I’d like to compose a concerto for guitar and chamber orchestra. I like French neo-classicism and composers like Francis Poulenc. The next piece I’m recording is a jazz-rock version of Wes Montgomery’s “Four On Six.”
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2023 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Born in Denmark, Kristian Borring now lives in one of the most-remote major cities on earth – Perth, on the far western coast of Australia – yet is making international waves with serious jazz chops. With his trio, Number Junky, Borring is unveiled as a tour-de-force on Earth Matters, delivering sensational improvisations left and right. VG checked in with the bop ace from the other side of the planet.
Who are your guitar influences?
I grew up in a small Danish port town, Faaborg. There wasn’t really much jazz around, but I was part of a group of guys playing and listening together. I guess Metheny and Scofield were big for me for a while, and later, Kurt Rosenwinkel and Peter Bernstein. Of the older guys, I’ve always gravitated to Wes and Jim Hall and non-jazz guitarists such as B.B. King and Eric Clapton. In my early teens, it was all about Eddie Van Halen. Can’t play like that anymore, but I like to think there is a subtle expression of some of Eddie’s fire and decadence in my playing (laughs).
For your long phrases, did you transcribe horn and piano improvisations?
Yes! I’ve transcribed horn and piano players as much as I’ve done guitar players, especially John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, Charlie Parker, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock, and McCoy Tyner. However, developing long phrases has also come from dedicated practice toward that goal, which requires chipping away at your technique, in the context of harmonic and melodic understanding.
I like how you mix chords and single-note lines in “Freiburg.”
Cool! I try to maintain a balance between mastering chordal playing and single-note playing. There are many ways to approach harmony and I’ve worked on developing delicate chord/melody arrangements that explore colorful voicings. I used to play lots of solo guitar concerts when I lived in London. That kind of “learning on the job” experience, carrying the whole night myself, cannot be replaced in the practice room.
Jazz is as much a language as a style of music. Describe what it’s like when you’re playing with other jazz musicians – and having a musical conversation with them.
I love playing jazz for that reason – the conversations and wordless communication. I guess it’s like talking to someone about a subject you’re passionate about. The more both parts know about it, the more enjoyable and deeper the conversation goes. It’s also a lot about trust and support, even though there are disagreements – good communication is also about allowing to have arguments, as long as they are well meaning and respectful. Jazz improvising requires meticulous study, but when performing, it’s about letting go and trusting your ears and instinct.
Your tone is gorgeous.
Thanks! I recorded using my custom Victor Baker guitar, which has been my main axe since 2015. It’s a 16″ archtop with laminate maple top. I also used a 15″ semi-hollowbody provided by Eastman, and changed between a couple of Fender Twins in the studio, both with Jensen speakers. My Tone knob on the guitar is set at around 7 or 8, though I tend to make the most tone adjustments on the amp. When I use tube amps, Bass and Treble are set quite low, yet I have an EQ on my rig and a couple boost pedals for further tone shaping.
“After Party” has deep echo and modulation effects.
I used my original Neunaber Immerse Reverberator, which is really clean and subtle. I have two delay pedals on my board – the Seymour Duncan Andromeda and Strymon’s Brigadier. The Andromeda is versatile analog and digital delay, which also has a dynamic delay function. As you can tell on “After Party,” I’m really into BBD (bucket-brigade-device chips) with modulation on the delay. When I play with a trio like Number Junky, I need a rich and penetrating sound with lots of depth.
What’s the jazz scene like in Perth, given that it’s so remote?
When I moved from London, which has an amazing scene, it was honestly a bit of a shock. Nevertheless, the are some top-class players in Perth, and a few decent clubs. People from Perth seem to return to here, even if they are doing great stuff elsewhere in the world, probably because the lifestyle here is pretty special. I’m teaching now at one of Australia’s top conservatories – the Western Australian Academy of Performing Arts – and there is plenty of talent rolling through. Lockdown gave me an opportunity to connect more with the local scene, which is how Number Junky was born. You have to be proactive if you want to present original jazz, but let’s face it, that applies anywhere. The remoteness of Perth is an issue for getting new music off the ground and reaching audiences, but I’m hopeful Number Junky will start hitting festivals and I can head back to Europe again more regularly.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2023 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
The latest from Julian Lage contains mesmerizing originals featuring Bill Frisell’s supple artistry and Lage’s potent six-string imagery. View With A Room is a dreamy record that transcends contemporary jazz-guitar techniques in favor of crafting altered states of consciousness. It’s a journey of the mind with gorgeous chord melodies that stands on the shoulders of the best from jazz guitar’s long, proud tradition.
What was your inspiration for View With A Room?
I love the history of electric guitar. There was a period when the banjo was morphing into the guitar being popular. There was this handoff from the vaudeville years until the early jazz years. Nick Lucas and Eddie Lang were the real titans of that sound. Then, as you get to the mid ’30s, you have George Barnes and, obviously, Charlie Christian. So, I see this phenomenon of the guitar being evocative and electric. It feels like there are no rules or limits, and there’s a sense of risk and adventure in the playing.
As you get from that period into the ’40s and ’50s, things get organically more codified. The guitar becomes akin to the saxophone or a bebop instrument, plus the harmonic language of a piano player. Obviously, there are a million and one deviations in that story, but there was that period when the electric guitar felt clear, clean, and visceral. That’s a huge influence for me as a guitar player on this record, basically in the role of a singer where I play the heads and then take abbreviated solos. Basically, I’m playing themes.
Since I’m a player that doesn’t have an overdriven tone, it’s important for me that the clean thing reads as effusive rather than suppressed or tempered. On a tonal level, that’s the correlation. That early electric volatility goes all the way through early rock and roll with Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, and Scotty Moore. It’s the land before pedals (laughs).
How did Bill Frisell influence your process?
Bill Frisell’s influence on the record is monumental because what I lack in variety of sound, he brings by playing baritone electric, big reverb, and acoustic guitar. It’s like he’s filling in the other pieces of the guitar-history puzzle.
Bill is part of the fabric of modern music. I always feel like his presence is felt whether he’s there or not. Part of the fun of compiling this music is that there is a shorthand between bassist Jorge Roeder, drummer Dave King, and myself. I can teach them something by ear then we got it. With Bill, we show him the songs, we have a rehearsal the day before, and everything I want needs to be written on paper, so we’re not wasting his time.
Part of the fun was distilling it into a lead sheet so that anything he plays within this is going to be great. That put pressure on me to clarify the intent. Also, his presence and disposition in the studio is so comforting and supportive. He’s a touchstone and a spiritual guide for the music. He was supposed to play on all the songs, but there were three where he said, “No, man. You don’t need me on it.” His decision to be omitted from the record was an example of his influence on the record (laughs).
What’s unique about your signature guitar?
The Collings 470 JL is a cool guitar. Fundamentally, it had to be a great acoustic instrument. So, we had this idea of something hollow but not with sound holes. The heart of it is the Ellisonic pickups by Ron Ellis, which are based on Dynasonic pickups, which are influential in the history of electric guitar. There’s something about these big pole pieces that give you a very literal sound. You get six robust pole pieces that are unobscured, but they’re also big enough that you get this crosstalk between them. The E string is picking up some of the A string. So, you get both clarity and mushiness.
It’s warm, and there’s a haze around it when you’re playing with regular intensity. As you dig in, you get the point of the note. That clarity can feel high-octane, like you’re driving a race car, but the beauty is that it’s only there if you want it. You don’t have to play hard. As a machine, it’s fun and responsive.
There’s a Bigsby on it, and that’s because it needed more weight. Without it, it’s too light. With it, it has the perfect balance. Having a Bigsby also gives it a little springiness – a short-scale guitar with a Bigsby is more-buoyant than a Telecaster. It’s pretty phenomenal, and it’s an ode to a lot of other great guitars like Duo Jets or Guild Aristocrats – basically hollow guitars with wood in the middle and no sound holes.
What’s next?
You make the record, God willing, it comes out, and by that time, you’re ready to move on from it. I’m excited to share this record, and I’m excited to keep working on new music.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2023 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Guitarist/producer Eli “Paperboy” Reed understands the emotional thread between blues, gospel, R&B, and country music. He has created his own lane doing what he loves – bonding poignant elements of timeless American music. His countrified soul record Down Every Road merges Merle Haggard with early-’60s R&B, and his work with the Harlem Gospel Travelers proves that passionate guitar playing is vital regardless of genre.
You’ve got the less-is-more R&B, blues, and gospel guitar thing down.
I’m a collector of gospel, country, R&B, and soul music. So much of what informs my playing is the time I spent listening. I try not to learn things verbatim. Instead, I try to internalize, stylistically, what they’re all about. When I sit down to play, it sounds like me, and that’s been my approach from the beginning. I don’t transcribe Freddie King instrumentals, but I love to play along. When it comes to gospel music, there are so many regional guitar styles I love to immerse myself in.
The intersection of Chicago blues, gospel, and R&B isn’t discussed much.
I love Reggie Young for the soul records. I love Bobby Womack. He’s a big influence on me as a guitar player. His playing was a beautiful complement to his singing and songwriting, and he is completely underrated as a guitar player. I also love Eddie Hinton’s playing. When I first started playing, I listened to tons of country blues like Tommy Johnson and Houston Stackhouse.
Covering Merle Haggard on Down Every Road was inspired.
I grew up on country music and had tons of country records at my house. I always felt like the songs Merle Haggard wrote were universal. As I got into the intersection of country and soul music, I began to hear these songs arranged in different ways. I didn’t want to change the songs – I wanted to arrange the songs so they were in a new context. For me, it made perfect sense to take these songs in this direction, and people have responded positively. On “Workin’ Man Blues,” I gave it a real Pops Staples vibe.
It’s hard to beat “It’s Not Love, But It’s Not Bad.”
I got to play those songs at the Grand Ole Opry, which was a dream come true. It was fun to play them at the mother church of country music. “It’s Not Love, But It’s Not Bad” was a big hit for Merle, but to play it in such a way where they accepted it was an honor.
How did you start producing the Harlem Gospel Travelers?
In 2015, I was dropped by Warner Brothers Records. So, I got my band together and made what became My Way Home, which came out in 2016. I felt like things had gotten out of control with the major labels. The record I made for Warners was essentially a pop record – there were a lot of songwriters, a lot of producers, and a lot of cooks in the kitchen. I’m very proud of those records, but I wish they had gotten to more ears than they did. When I came out of that period of my career, it seemed only natural that I step into the producer’s chair. I knew what I didn’t want (laughs), but that’s more than half the battle. I wanted to make music with people I loved and trusted.
I started with the Harlem Gospel Travelers soon after that. They were my students, and their work inspired He’s On Time, which came out in 2019. It was a collection of things we’d worked on in the classes I was teaching at a music education program in Harlem. From there, I produced a singer/songwriter, Sabine McCalla, who had made some cool records in New Orleans. The second Harlem Gospel Travelers album, Look Up!, was the first big production I worked on. I hope it gets some attention so I can do more.
Do you have an ethos as a producer?
My ethos as a producer is to get out of the way and let the songs and performances speak for themselves. I wanted to give the Harlem Gospel Travelers a canvas to work with. They can be quite modern in their vocal approach, so I wanted to combine that and give them a timeless quality. I bring ’60s gospel funk to the table. Thomas Gatling wrote seven of the songs. We worked on the arrangements, and I had to ensure the production matched his vision. The songs and production aren’t old or new; I’m hoping it falls into an “Always” kind of space.
What’s on your schedule for 2023?
We have another Harlem Gospel Travelers record coming in the spring. I’m also working with a female group I’m hoping to sign to my production company, then I’ll make my next record. I’m leaning toward a blues record and possibly working with great Mississippi blues singer and guitarist Anthony Sherrod. I’m working on my dream projects.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2023 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Spectacularly clean for being 80 years old, this guitar’s original finish shines. Many SJ-100s saw heavy use, since most were bought as working tools, not baubles to be coddled. Mahogany back of the ’41 SJ-100.
Through the 1910s and early ’20s, Gibson catalogs denigrated flat-top guitars as inferior, unworthy of the company name. But that tune changed in 1926, when it introduced the L-1 and L-0 alongside its unique archtops.
Perched at the bottom of the line, one feature set them apart from traditional flat-tops – a narrow waist and more-rounded lower bout. This became a Gibson trait that found its way onto some of the most-celebrated guitars. Standing as the prime example is the J-200.
When introduced in 1937, Gibson’s fancy “King of the Flat-Tops” was called the SJ-200 Super Jumbo. Originating from guitars custom-made for singing-cowboy stars, notably Ray Whitley, that narrow-waisted body set it apart from its main competitor, Martin’s dreadnought. Like the ’20s L-1, the SJ-200 was built with archtop body lines, in this case similar to the “advanced” L-5.
At a whopping $200, the 17″ rosewood-bodied SJ-200 was aimed at Western-style entertainers and, in the Depression, affordable only to highly paid pros. Production was limited and Gibson logically concluded a cheaper version might appeal to less-well-heeled cowboy players.
The result was the Super Jumbo 100, which first appeared in Gibson’s 1939 AA catalog, with the blurb, “In creating this fine flat-top… not a single Gibson innovation for tone projection has been slighted in any way. It is an instrument that never fails to bring forth superlative praise from those desiring a deep, brilliant toned guitar at a price considerably below the top.”
For once, Gibson didn’t over-sell, as the SJ-100 really is a superb design, sharing the 200’s narrow-waisted 17″ jumbo body and long scale, but with restrained cosmetics and one major material difference – the back and sides were mahogany instead of rosewood. In common with the 200, the top is spruce and the neck is laminated two-piece figured maple. The trim was plainer all around with a triple-bound top, single-bound back and fretboard, unbound headstock, and plain pickguard.
The original list price was $100, which, in Gibson fashion, gave the guitar its name. It was raised almost immediately to $110 on the October ’39 price list and crept up to $131.25 by late ’41, as the run-up to World War II sparked rapid increases. It could be paired with a silk-lined Faultless Case #600 SP in lacquered tweed with red and black stripes that added $32.50 to the cost – almost enough to buy an L-00! A flannel-lined version was $24.50.
Little Jimmy Dickens and his band in the mid ’50s; drummer/fiddler Louie Dunn, bassist Joel Price on a Precision, Dickens with his SJ-100, Jimmy “Spider” Wilson on a Gretsch Duo-Jet, and Walter Haynes with his Bigsby pedal-steel.
The initial SJ-100 included several unusual features, most novel being a peghead with stair-stepped sides, shared with two other mid-line models introduced in ’39 – the 16″ round-shouldered J-55 and the ES-250 electric archtop. This design no doubt proved awkward to produce and was quickly supplanted on all three with a standard Gibson head.
The SJ-100, as introduced in Gibson’s 1939 AA catalog.
The first SJ-100s also had a simplified version of the “moustache” bridge used on the 200. This was still an elaborately carved affair using adjustable bearings under each string in place of a conventional saddle. This was also short-lived and soon gave way to a smaller, simpler two-tiered rosewood piece. This distinctive (if whimsical) bridge was also shared with the J-55 and a pair of budget 16″ Jumbos built under the Recording King brand for Montgomery Ward. Inlaid pearl dots discreetly covered three bolts used to secure it to the top.
A feature common to all SJ-100’s is thick triple binding around the top edge. The extended stepped-edge pickguard on the treble side of the top was another new element, again shared with the J-55. Made of the flashy “firestripe” celluloid seen only on pre-war Gibsons, the oversize guard is unusual in how it completely covers the soundhole rings. This was not an accident; Gibson applied it to guitars aimed at hard-strumming cowboy players who quickly wore away finish in that area.
The second-generation SJ-100 in the 1941 BB catalog.
The ’41, SJ-100 shown here has its curly maple neck topped with a bound Brazilian-rosewood fretboard. Ebony was specified in the catalogs, but deviations like this are common. The headstock is ornamented only with a thick pearl script Gibson logo and fitted with early open-back metal-button Kluson tuners. The first SJ-100’s used more-expensive cast Kluson Sealfast machines with fluted-metal buttons, but those were discontinued with the original headstock.
The SJ-100 was not designed for the fancy flatpicking many players today associate with pre-war flat-tops, but as a strummed rhythm tool to accompany crooning cowboys. The sound is big, rich and powerful, ringing with volume and enough punch to drive a band along, if required. The combination of mahogany back and sides with the jumbo shape was a seldom-used recipe, as standard J-200s were rosewood before World War II, maple afterward. That mahogany results in a tone that’s less-boomy than rosewood and with more air than maple. It’s an interesting formula, ripe for reinvention.
With its short, limited production history, the SJ-100 is a rare guitar in any form – 59 were shipped in 1941 and the total is well under 200; just 138 are accounted for in extant shipping records.
Though forgotten except by hardcore Gibson flat-top enthusiasts, the SJ-100 did garner prominent users, starting just as it was discontinued. The most influential was blues master Lonnie Johnson, whose work with Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Eddie Lang, and many more from the ’20s through the ’60s blurred the boundaries of blues and jazz. He was featured on hundreds of vocal and instrumental blues records, under his own name and as a side man. If that weren’t enough, in the ’20s, Johnson was the first to record single-string guitar solos with a pick, influencing everyone who has played non-classical guitar since. Next time you’re bending strings in the pentatonic box, give a nod to Lonnie.
Lonnie Johnson in the ’40s with his SJ-100.
Johnson used many guitars throughout his career, including an unusual early jumbo 12-string, various Martin flat-tops, and, near the end, a cheap Kay electric. From the ’40s into the early ’50s, he favored an SJ-100 identical to our featured guitar, acoustically at first, then later fitted with a DeArmond RHC-B soundhole pickup. This is likely the instrument heard on many of his Victor recordings from that period, cut with pianist Blind John Davis among others.
An earlier SJ-100 was the longtime companion of WWII-era yodeling Western star Elton Britt, whose name might not mean much to modern country fans, but was a crossover success in the ’40s. His signature song, “There’s a Star Spangled Banner Waving Somewhere” may seem maudlin today, but the patriotic anthem was a huge hit in the war-time U.S., selling over a million copies in an era when that was a rare accomplishment. He enjoyed lesser country hits into the early ’50s; his novelty recording “Uranium Fever” has been making the rounds of internet popularity. Britt’s SJ-100 was a 1939-pattern version with stair-stepped peghead and adjustable mustache bridge. It had an unusual block-inlaid fretboard that appears factory, though it’s impossible to know for sure. Britt played his SJ-100 for years, posing with it in publicity photos well into the ’50s.
Working in a similar vein was Yodeling Slim Clark, who was friendly with Britt and eventually joined him in the Yodeler’s Hall Of Fame. Slim proudly displays his ’41-style SJ-100 in numerous publicity pictures with the then-standard tassel strap. The name “Slim” was added to the guitar’s top in small letters under the pickguard.
Slim and Britt represent the audience Gibson intended for its Jumbo flat-tops, as singing/yodeling Western performers were all the rage in the ’30s and ’40s, so there was enough work for them to fund a fairly expensive guitar. In the early ’50s, even more long-lived Nashville star Little Jimmy Dickens was often seen with a first-gen SJ-100. A real fireball onstage, Dickens was one of the era’s most-colorful country performers even though he stood all of 4′ 11″. Credited with introducing rhinestone-studded Nudie outfits to the Opry stage, he loved to hang flashy, oversized guitars on his diminutive frame.
Dickens also led one of the hottest bands in Nashville, The Country Boys, with world-class pickers including Grady Martin and Thumbs Carllile, and steel-guitar legend Buddy Emmons passing through the ranks. Some Dickens records include sophisticated twin-guitar harmony picking from Martin and Jabo Arrington (VG, January ’22), succeeded by Spider Wilson and Howard Rhoton. And he was the first Opry performer to have his bassist, Joel Price, appear with the newfangled Fender Precision.
Elton Britt with his ’39 SJ-100. Yodeling Slim Clark in the ’40s.
Dickens’ hot band suited his sometimes-raucous persona, and in the mid ’50s he cut a few sides verging on rockabilly. Still, his most-remembered song is the left-field 1965 novelty hit “May The Bird Of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose.”
Dickens was not a technical player, but hammered out solid rhythms on his SJ-100. The guitar was gradually modified through the ’50s, going back to Gibson for a J-200 bridge early in the decade, then later for a larger pickguard that covered the upper side emblazoned with the artist’s name. It looks like Paul Bigsby’s work, though may have been done by his rejected apprentice, Semie Moseley. In ’57, Dickens got a new J-200 and apparently retired his 100 from live work. It was still part of his collection when the guitars were listed for sale in 2015, by which time it had been refinished and heavily modified with a new bridge, pickguard, and Super 400 headstock.
Gibson stopped making the SJ-100 in 1942, as most instrument production was put aside for war work. The J-200 returned to the catalog in ’48, but the 100 was not revived after the war. In the ’50s, Gibson tried a junior version with the J-185 – a 16″ maple guitar with mahogany neck – another superlative instrument that essentially failed, sales-wise, but has since become highly desired. Over the ensuing decades, the J-200 maintained its status as Gibson’s “King of the Flat-Tops,” while various princes have come and gone. The J-100 name was revived in the ’70s, but the instrument was hardly comparable.
The pre-war SJ-100 holds a place in Gibson history as one of their best obscure ideas, suited to its market and a victim of war-time circumstance rather than any inherent flaws.
Special thanks to Rich Kienzle.
This article originally appeared in VG’s April 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Listening to Adventure-us, one may think they’re hearing one guitarist, but it’s really two masters – Phil Keaggy and Mike Pachelli – weaving parts together almost telepathically. Keaggy is a renowned virtuoso, while Pachelli is a veteran ace. Here, they combine their efforts on acoustic guitar and the results are both beautiful and staggering.
You’ve known each other for more than 50 years. Mike Pachelli: Our mothers knew each other first. At a 1967 school festival in our hometown of Youngstown, Ohio, our moms were chatting and Phil’s mom told me he was playing a teen dance the next day. I went to his gig and was mesmerized by his talent. He lived nearby, so when we’d get together, he’d show me what he was working on. It would take me weeks to do what he could easily play.
Phil Keaggy: Aw, shucks, Mike! I was 16 or 17 at the time, playing with a band called The New Hudson Exit. Over time, we became lasting friends. Before Mike and his family moved to France a couple of years ago, we did five concerts with [bassist] Tony Levin and [drummer] Jerry Marotta, playing songs from The Bucket List.
On “Friendship,” your guitars blend into an organic whole rather than, “You take a solo, then I’ll take a solo.” MP: Thank you – that’s quite a compliment! I’ve repurposed a lot of Phil’s style because I love how he plays. To tell us apart, I’m on the left channel and Phil’s on the right. Our styles complement each other because having been friends for so long, we sorta read each other’s minds when playing. PK: Yeah, I agree. In fact, as I listen to some of the jams on this project, I think to myself, “How did that happen?” Mike and I also have “bat ears,” as they say. As we recorded, we respected each other as musicians and had something like a decent conversation – when one spoke, the other truly listened.
Your cover of the Beatles’ “I Will” is perfectly charming. MP: I recorded a version on my album, Beatles On Guitar. I asked Phil to play acoustic, and he played along with what I’d recorded. But I thought his accompaniment was too good to be just a background part. So I re-recorded my lead part along with his accompaniment, and made it a duet.
Mike, you studied guitar with jazz icons Joe Pass and Pat Martino? MP: I got to be friends with Pat when I lived in New York City. We hung out at his Jane Street apartment and finished many bottles of cognac; he opened my mind to the possibilities on guitar. Pat also called Joe Pass and told him I was a worthwhile student. Joe was somethin’ else. First time we got together, he asked me to play for him, so I started to play one of his arrangements. He grabbed the neck of my guitar and shouted, “That’s me you’re playing – I want to hear you!” I almost peed my pants. Then he laughed and said, “I’m just messin’ with you kid!” His lessons were invaluable; the man was a jazz encyclopedia. I even roadied for Joe a few times.
You also played with blues giant Albert King. MP: In the mid ’70s, I was on the road with [organist] Brother Jack McDuff. We were on the bill with Albert. His guitar player was quitting and I had a few weeks off with McDuff, so I went out with Albert. He still owes me money (laughs)!
“Matador’s Dream” is far more interesting than the usual faux-flamenco shredfest. PK: I’m no flamenco player, or even classical, but I love all kinds of guitar music and have seriously listened to many artists over the years. You can tell Mike likes Django and I like Julian Bream – both masters. In fact, we both appreciate many of the same players. Because of all those years listening and playing, we’ve learned to tap into some of these styles. MP: On “Matador’s Dream” we didn’t plan it out at all. One of us would start to play and maybe say what key they were in, then we let spontaneity take over. On that song, Phil played an Olson SJ and I’m playing a Garcia 1A nylon-string, given to me by Phil in 1970.
Which other guitars are on the album? PK: Aside from my Olson steel-string, I also played my Del Langejans nylon classical, which has a lovely sound! MP: Most of the record, I played a Charis SJ – another gift from Phil. There are a few electric-guitar sweetening overdubs on the worked-out pieces, where I used an ES-335.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2023 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Between stints on its lengthy End of the Road farewell tour, Kiss has been issuing an Off the Soundboard series of live recordings, but a recent highlight is the 40th anniversary super deluxe edition of 1982’s crucial comeback album, Creatures of the Night (see review in this month’s “Hit List”).
Vocalist/bassist Gene Simmons sat with VG to discuss the tumultuous making of Creatures.
After the criticism of 1981’s Music from “The Elder”, what was Kiss’ mindset heading into Creatures? Somewhere between uncertainty and chaos?
It’s probably fair to say uncertain. “The Elder” is entirely my fault. I had delusions of grandeur and other big ideas; I was at the Beverly Hills Hotel and started writing a treatment for a movie called The Elder with characters, storylines, and so on. I actually had bites from some studios. (Producer) Bob Ezrin came on to do the new record, and we were in flux. Eric Carr was coming in to be our drummer. Ace [Frehley] was behaving badly and refused to leave his Connecticut home to come record, rehearse, and write. So, we started working at Ace’s home studio. It was Ezrin who said, “I want to do a concept record based on Gene’s treatment for The Elder.” That record became what it became.
It was an uncertain period in the band. We had a new drummer, we had a lead guitar player who wasn’t really in the band, and maybe a misplaced idea of “Let’s do our own Tommy kind of concept record with a story line.” All around us, the music scene was changing. The hair bands were coming, and they started looking better than their girlfriends. After that, we needed more time and recorded four tunes Paul [Stanley] had written or co-written for Killers, a greatest-hits record. It was just a way to get more time to figure out what we wanted to do. Then we had this clear idea of, “Look, it’s easier to be Kiss if you know what the soul of the band is, and we’re venturing into new territory, so let’s go into a hyped-up Kiss. Adrenalized. Let’s just make it bigger and badder.” Creatures became a comfortable record to do because it was exciting. It sounded stronger and louder.
I was actually surprised at how well the record came out. My favorites are Destroyer, Creatures, and Revenge. The beginning records are okay. Each has their own personality.
How did guitarists Vinnie Vincent – who ultimately joined the band – Robben Ford, and Steve Farris (Mr. Mister) get involved in recording Creatures? Was it through co-producer Michael James Jackson?
The Vinnie Vincent thing started off purely as a happenstance. I was at Adam Mitchell’s house, writing songs. He and Paul had come up with “Creatures of the Night.” While I was there, Vinnie happened to show up; Adam warned me about him. Historically speaking, Vinnie was a very talented guy who could write and really knew his way around a guitar, though I didn’t like his choices. You get Yngwie-itis – a lot of fast notes that you can’t hum ever again. He was his own worst enemy.
Simmons on the Creatures tour with a Kramer Axe Bass.
The other guys came in with Jackson – a wonderful, wonderful human being. Just a great guy. He had a different way of working with us. It was more like herding sheep. When you see animals starting to go a little off on their own, you get in their way and say, “Are you sure this is the right thing? How about we go back a little bit?” without being specific.
Will there be more Off the Soundboard releases?
Yeah. We have a large, temperature-controlled vault. There’s an awful lot of material in there. It’s always just about having some downtime to go in there and say, “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
Is the finality of the farewell tour setting in?
We’re aware of it every time we do a show. After the run is over – it could be a year from now – we are going to stop touring. Kiss will continue in other ways, but the touring band has got to get off that stage. You want to get off while you’re still vibrant and doing great shows.
Does the band realize its influence and how it inspired people to pick up an instrument?
We’re certainly aware of it. The important thing, I believe, is to make sure you don’t believe your own press, and you don’t believe all the kudos you get. People pat us on the back all the time, and it really is appreciated, but you have to be able to point to what went on before you. You have to understand what influences and roots are, and that you’re just the next in line.
This article originally appeared in VG’s January 2023 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
“The South is a complex and nuanced place,” says Ben Reynolds of his native Georgia. Geography and Southern bands have for decades influenced his work in Chickasaw Mudd Puppies. Here, with help from dobroist William Tonks and bassist Rob Keller, he offers an unplugged taste of “Flatcar,” from their latest album, “Fall Line.” Catch our interview with Ben in the August issue. Read Now!