In no apparent hurry, Jeff “Skunk” Baxter just released his first solo album – at age 73. The guitar flash from Steely Dan and The Doobie Brothers brings his six-stringing to the fore, even having the chutzpah to cover “My Old School.” Here, it’s a raucous jam, full of the wild-ass licks Skunk used so well to carve his reputation. Another homage to Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, “Do It Again” is revised as an instrumental, Skunk dropping tasty licks and guitar synthesizer over a cool urban vamp.
Another side of his oeuvre is instro/surf rock, evident in “Ladies from Hell.” It’s instro, yet funky and eclectic in fine Skunk tradition. The oft-covered “Apache” is given an update with synth-y tones and muscular twang. A secret talent, he plays lilting pedal-steel on Bette Midler’s “The Rose,” while Doobie mate Michael McDonald lends blue-eyed soul to “My Place in the Sun,” along with the guitarist’s fabled “orange squeezer” compression tone.
Closing with “Speed of Heat,” Baxter fuses heavy funk and Fagen-like jazz chords with abandon. Throughout this muscular album, you’ll find careening guitar riffs, runs, and twists throughout. Let’s hope it doesn’t take Skunk another 50 years to do it again.
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Reinier Voet shows us bits of “Swing 49” and the solo-guitar piece “Bagatelle Nr1,” both from “Images,” the new album by the Reinier Voet Quartet. The disc mixes his original music with tunes by Django and Monk, along with a “jazzified” version of a Hungarian traditional. His guitar is a rare early-’50s Jacques Favino Jean Chauvet Artist with an 18” lower bout and an RV pickup. Our review of “Images” appears in the April issue. Read Now!
Despite (or because of) the huge Folk Boom of the late ’50s and early ’60s, these days “folk” is almost a dirty word in some circles. It’s replaced with “singer/songwriter,” as if that’s a genre, not a job description, or “Americana.”
I was a kid when the boom thrived, which was perfect because little kids haven’t compartmentalized or developed prejudices in music. I heard my parents and their friends break out guitars and mandolins and banjos, singing “Michael, Row The Boat Ashore.” Through them, I heard Leadbelly, the Kingston Trio, Peter, Paul & Mary, Dylan, Jesse Fuller, the Limeliters, Joe and Eddie, Clarence Ashley, Woody Guthrie, Flatt and Scruggs, and Pete Seeger.
The Folkways label released Get On Board in 1952, as “Negro Songs by the Folkmasters” – the duo of guitarist Brownie McGhee and blind harmonica wizard Sonny Terry with the addition of gospel singer Coyal McMahan. So it was already in my father’s collection before I was born. I’d call it life-changing, but I didn’t yet have a life to change; there’s no time when its mix of blues, folk, gospel, and work songs wasn’t already wafting through our house. Consider the comical image of a redheaded four-year-old in a NorCal suburb singing, “Jump down, turn around, pick a bale of cotton.” Never mind that I didn’t know what a bale of cotton was.
Now, Taj Mahal and Ry Cooder have released a tribute to Sonny and Brownie with the same title, marking the first time the Rising Sons partners have recorded together since Mahal’s eponymous ’68 debut. It’s a wonderful nod to two hugely important figures in blues and folk coming from two iconic practitioners of American music.
Because of the Folkmasters tag, even ardent fans are unaware of that entry in the Terry/McGhee catalog, and bass singer and maracas player McMahan is as obscure as it gets. So it was a pleasant surprise to hear Cooder reinterpreting the gospel singer’s showpiece, “In His Care,” on his album The Prodigal Son.
McGhee’s guitar style was simple compared to Piedmont six-stringers like Blind Blake and Rev. Gary Davis. In a making-of video, Cooder says, “I saw him do it and said, ‘I think I can do that.’” In addition to their instrumental interplay and ability to mix folk songs and blues, McGhee and Terry set themselves apart by harmonizing vocally – something few blues acts did. Sonny shouted while Brownie almost crooned.
The new effort features four tunes from the original album and seven songs from McGhee/Terry’s later career, including “Drinkin’ Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee,” which was an R&B hit by Brownie’s younger brother, Stick McGhee.
On the new record, Cooder plays a 1946 Martin D-18 – a model McGhee used in later years (in ’52 it was likely a Gibson J-45 in ’52), and an Adams Brothers flat-top from the early 1900s. Ry also plays electric and mandolin, while Taj plays harmonica, piano, and a Gibson Keb’ Mo’ Bluesmaster gifted to him by the younger singer. Ry’s son, Joachim Cooder, supplies percussion.
In the video, Taj says, “It was so solid. They meant what they said, they did what they did.” Ry feels, “It was a perfect ensemble thing, two people.” Of “Pick A Bale Of Cotton,” Cooder states, “Some people might say it’s politically incorrect; I don’t know.” Mahal laughs, “If it was, I wouldn’t have done it with you.”
He concludes, “What a great opportunity, to really come full circle.”
I eventually saw Sonny and Brownie several times, but the first was the most memorable, at the 1969 Berkeley Folk Festival. It closed out the last day by having all acts perform short sets in the Greek Theater. When Terry and McGhee walked on, it was literally the lame leading the blind. As Sonny held onto his partner’s elbow, while Brownie, who contracted polio as a child, slowly walked with his built-up shoe and pronounced limp. They did Big Bill Broonzy’s “I Feel So Good,” then “Whoopin’ The Blues,” even though stage hands were already telling them they were going too long. Their exit was as methodic as their entrance, but the crowd insisted they turn around and do one more. They encored with “Treated Wrong,” featuring their trademark harmonies.
Back then, they were pleasant with each other and cut dozens of albums together, but in later years didn’t get along. Sonny used an assistant to help him on stage, and they sat in opposite corners of dressing rooms – as far from each other as they could. Terry, whose solo album Whoopin’ was produced by Johnny Winter, died in 1986 at age 74. McGhee, who passed away in ’96 at 80, recorded Facts Of Life with Robben Ford and his brothers.
Folkways is now Smithsonian Folkways, and the original Get On Board can be obtained from its website, as a download or CD-R. I can’t recommend it enough.
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Derek Trucks and Susan Tedeschi have released the first of a four-album set called I Am The Moon. Comprised of 24 tracks, the songs feature musical input from their 12-piece ensemble with Trucks and Tedeschi front and center. It’s an ambitious project beginning with I. Crescent and continuing with release of II. Ascension, III. The Fall, and IV. Farewell throughout 2022.
Tedeshi Trucks Band I am the Moon
Based on the 12th-century Persian poem “Layla & Majnun,” I. Crescent begins plaintively with the acoustic heavy “Hear My Dear,” which intensifies with electric instrumentation, transcendent vocals from Tedeschi, and otherworldly slide from Trucks. But it’s the album’s uplifting warmth, chemistry, and Trucks’ transparent production skill that shine brightest. The project’s title track continues with a hauntingly slow-building chord progression and Trucks soaring with upper-echelon virtuosity. The band explores complex themes and stirring ensemble work with the superb Gabe Dixon on keys on the grooving “Circles ’Round The Sun” and the 12-minute jam, “Pasaquan.”
I. Crescent is only a taste of a larger work as the band continues to explore the fringes of spirituality and soulful Southern-rock improvisation. Throughout, Trucks is surreal as he synthesizes blues slide and Indian influences, morphing spirituality into a powerful musical statement.
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
There’s a reason Pink Floyd, Thin Lizzy, and Roger Waters secured the services of Snowy White – his extraordinarily soulful playing. White’s latest solo album, Driving On the 44, is rife with that understated and emotive guitar, revealing deep roots in the British tones of Eric Clapton and Peter Green. We checked in with White to ask about his lifelong infatuation with the blues.
Did you start playing in the Hank Marvin and Bert Weedon era?
I got my first guitar when I was 10, using a largely unplayable acoustic. When I started work at 17, I saved up for an ice-blue Futurama II electric. Looked great, but sounded like rubbish. This was in the early ’60s, when the main thing I was hearing, guitar-wise, were The Shadows and twangy American bands like The Ventures. I did buy Bert Weedons’ Play In A Day guitar book, but he lied to me – 24 hours later, I still couldn’t play a thing.
When did the blues enter your world?
In the U.K. in those days, the only time you could hear anything interesting was a BBC radio program called “Saturday Club.” I was messing about with this newfangled thing my Dad bought – a “tape recorder” – and I happened to catch a session of John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers with Clapton sometime in 1965 or ’66. When I heard his guitar licks, I pressed “Record” and I was then able to play that session over and over. Magic! The Bluesbreakers played “Stepping Out” and Eric had a very clean sound I really liked. From then on, that was all I wanted to do. I had no thoughts about playing in a band or getting paid for it – I just wanted to know what it felt like.
Tell us about Peter Green’s influence. You became good friends.
Pete had a very generous spirit, and when I first got to London, he was really kind to me. This was about 1970, around the time he announced that he was leaving Fleetwood Mac. He used to sleep on the sofa in my flat in Putney. One day we drove to my parent’s house on the Isle Of Wight. They thought he was a nice boy, mainly because he helped with the washing up. It was only recently that I realized how slightly surreal that was, because Pete slept in my old bedroom, where I’d spent months listening to records of him, Eric, and B.B. King. After all the success and accolades that were heaped upon him, he just wanted to get back to being a normal guy.
On the new album, “Way Down in the Dark” has such a unique midrange tone in your solo.
That was my PRS, which has been doctored with humbuckers and an out-of phase switch, which is probably what you’re hearing. It was given to me in 1999 by PRS at New York rehearsals for the first Roger Waters tour, as I didn’t get my old goldtop until a couple of weeks later. I use it a lot, as it’s much lighter than my current Les Paul.
Did you use amp simulators, or traditional miked amplifiers?
Nearly all of this album is simulators, both amps and pedals. Normally, I would go to a studio with the band and use proper amps and reverb and chorus pedals, but it’s been difficult with Covid. I started to put down some ideas at home, originally as demos. Somehow we just kept on going and ended with the finished album. Guitar-wise, I just used the PRS.
You sold your famous ’57 goldtop. What made it your number one guitar for so many years?
I was offered the goldtop at a good price when I was in a band in Sweden, and took it not knowing if it was good or not. Luckily, it turned out to be a great guitar, stayed beautifully in tune, and sang out on every fret, even the high ones. We sort of grew into each other over 45 years. I knew exactly how to get what I wanted out of it, and I didn’t need anything else.
What do you recall most fondly about working in Thin Lizzy from 1980 until ’82?
I enjoyed playing Thin Lizzy songs, all the guitar harmonies with Scott Gorham. Some great tunes, but I wasn’t really the right man for that gig; I’m not a rocker and don’t do all those moves. I added some good stuff, but in the end, the behavior of Phil Lynott became too much for me. It was like he wanted to be a celebrity instead of a musician. Phil wrote good songs and was a fantastic frontman; I just wish he could have held it together. Still, I really enjoyed working with Scott – I think we blended well. Lots of nice memories there.
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Richie Furay’s new album, In the Country, began with an invitation from a friend, Val Garay. Revered for his work producing Linda Ronstadt, Bonnie Raitt, Kim Carnes, James Taylor, and the Motels, Garay produced Furay’s 1979 solo album, I Still Have Dreams.
“We hadn’t worked together since,” Furay explains. “So, when he said, ‘Hey, you want to make another record with me?’ I thought it’d be kinda fun.”
Furay, 78, is a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. A founding member of Buffalo Springfield and founder of the pioneering country-rock band Poco, he worked with J.D. Souther and Chris Hillman in the Souther-Hillman-Furay Band before embarking on a solo career.
In the Country offers Furay’s spins on some of his favorite tunes spanning half a century, from “Take Me Home, Country Roads” and Ricky Nelson’s “Lonesome Town” to Marc Cohn’s “Walking in Memphis” and Alabama’s “I’m in a Hurry and I Don’t Know Why.”
He tackled Garth Brooks’ “The River,” John Berry’s “Your Love Amazes Me,” Lee Ann Womack’s “I Hope You Dance” and, as a bonus track, a remake of Poco’s “Pickin’ Up the Pieces.”
Country, Furay explains, was part of his life during his boyhood in Yellow Springs, Ohio. His dad was a fan, but as a teenager he embraced rockabilly and later, folk music.
After Furay and Stephen Stills launched Buffalo Springfield in L.A. with Neil Young, country became part of their eclectic vision, notably on Young’s “I Am A Child,” and Furay’s originals “Kind Woman” and “A Child’s Claim to Fame.”
After Springfield’s 1968 breakup, Furay launched Poco, blending rich vocal harmonies and a Bakersfield-inspired sound enhanced by Rusty Young’s pedal steel. “Glenn Frey sat on my living room floor in Laurel Canyon as we were rehearsing,” he remembers.
Furay’s solo career began after Poco and Souther-Hillman-Furay disbanded. He later retired to pastor a Denver church, only to return with Christian-themed material and later, secular albums blending newer and older tunes.
Planning the new album, Furay and Garay compiled lists. John Berry’s “Your Love Amazes Me” was “…the very first song on Val’s list and my list. I just loved that song. To think years later, John would sing on the record and become a friend.”
As for “Walking in Memphis,” Cohn’s 1991 soft-rocker, “Val said, ‘That’s not really a country song, but I love it. We gotta find a way to put it on the album.’ Marc’s was pretty much piano-driven. We took those licks and made ’em guitar licks.”
Garay assembled a formidable band; bassist Glenn Worf, Tom Bukovac, who handled electric guitar, pedal-steeler Dan Dugmore, Steven Jay Nathan on keyboards, and drummer Victor Indrizzo. Furay suggested adding Chris Leuzinger.
“Every record I’ve made since 1997, I’ve recorded in Nashville, and Dan and Chris have been a part of it. I love their playing. Chris only played acoustic on the record, but what an electric-guitar player – just ask Garth (Brooks)!”
It took the ensemble just four days to record 14 songs.
“They are just so talented,” adds Furay. “I don’t get the feeling it’s ‘Okay, next!’ These guys were so into making this record.”
For the bonus track, a remake of Poco’s “Pickin’ Up the Pieces,” Furay recalls, “I told the guys let’s give it a different feel than the original – give it a little Bakersfield. Tom Bukovac is such a good guitar player – tremendous. We went out and it was one take. That was it!”
Despite playing guitar throughout his six-decade career, Furay discounts his own playing. “I’ve never thought of myself as a guitar player, per se. I’m a rhythm-guitar player. “
Onstage, he uses a Hummingbird. “It’s a new one and it has great sound. I plug it in and don’t have to do anything to it.”
His older gear remains at home.
“I have a very small collection,” he explains. “I’m not like Neil or Stephen.”
In addition to his Springfield-era ’59 ES-355, he owns a ’61 D-28 that stays home, a ’53 J-200, ’55 Gretsch Roundup, and a ’57 Gretsch Chet Atkins. He really likes his D’Angelico Excel ASG 100 and EX DC Standard, and Herco Golds are his longtime pick choice; he uses GHS Bronze strings.
Furay was deeply satisfied with another aspect of In the Country. “I was able to sing 90 percent of the songs live while the tracks were going down, and (the vocals) were kept. They were tweaked, but there’s just a different feel when I’m able to sing with the band. We’re playing off each other’s emotions. It’s like a live performance.”
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
After 29 years on the road, Bonnie Raitt guitarist George Marinelli decided to take a break. Stepping into the role will be Boston native Duke Levine.
The youngest of five, Levine had older brothers with Stones and Beatles records along with Paul Butterfield albums featuring Michael Bloomfield on guitar. One brother, Rick, had a band that rehearsed in the basement almost every day. His parents were supportive and didn’t mind the sound of equipment being loaded into the house at midnight after a gig.
Levine’s first guitar was a Yamaha FG75 his dad bought for $42 when Duke was nine. Three years later, he and his Gibson SG Special were in their first band, Landslide, with a bus, a manager, professional sound and lighting, and an abundance of friends serving as roadies.
After high school, he toured for four years with Walter and Valerie Crockett, playing a newer Les Paul and a ’70s Strat. On the recommendation of his teacher, Rich Falco, Levine attended the New England Conservatory of Music. Following graduation, he worked with jazz drummer Bob Moses for four years in the world-beat band Mozamba, and started playing sessions with the multitude of singer/songwriters in Boston. He did two European tours with Otis Rush, then toured with the Del Fuegos for two years.
Next came a stint with Jonatha Brooke and Jennifer Kimball, a folk-rock duo known as The Story. In 1992, film composer Mason Daring released Levine’s first album, Nobody’s Home, a collection of country and roots songs, followed by two more on Daring Records.
In 1994, working with The Story brought Duke to the attention of Mary Chapin Carpenter’s management, and the following year, he joined her band.
“I had never done anything on that scale before,” he said. “It was her first headline tour, playing arenas.”
Duke has played on seven Carpenter albums, including A Place in the World, Party Doll, Time Sex Love, and, most recently, The Dirt and The Stars. At her encouragement, the end of the record has a three-minute guitar solo.
In 2002, Levine stopped touring with Carpenter and began working with Peter Wolf, doing shows supporting Sleepless. Backing Wolf has been his main gig since.
Prior to becoming part of her band, Levine had played with Raitt once, sitting in on “Angel from Montgomery” when she and Carpenter were on the bill for the 1997 No Nukes concert in Washington, D.C.
James “Hutch” Hutchinson,who has been Raitt’s bass player for 40 years, is a good friend, and when the position became available, Hutch and others recommended him to Raitt. In September of ’21, he got a call during which Raitt assured him that she doesn’t expect anyone to play exactly what someone else played all the time.
After eight January rehearsals in a small Northern California studio, full rehearsals moved to Southern California in March. Levine and Marinelli worked well together; Marinelli will play a number of shows, and at times they’ll both be onstage, Levine says, “We’ll figure it out when it happens.
“I love being a side man,” he adds. “Leading my own band helped me as a side man because it gives insight to what someone you’re working for is going through.” With Bonnie, “In general, there’s a lot of leeway and the song doesn’t have to be the same from beginning to end every night.”
Summarizing his career so far, he says, “I never had a plan. You’re just playing with people and one thing leads to another.”
Levine’s main guitar for the tour is a blond ’63 Tele supplemented by a Supro Duo Tone with the neck pickup removed, a ’50s Relic Strat, and a recently acquired ’70s Greco Spacey Sound he calls “a find.” His amp is an early-’60s AC30 head through a Vox cab with two Eminence hempcone speakers. Effects are a Mad Professor Deep Blue delay and Royal Blue overdrive, a Rattler distortion, a Harmonious Monk tremolo, a Waterfall chorus/vibrato from JAM Pedals, and a Source Audio Nemesis delay.
Last year, he released Left to My Own Devices, an EP of solo-guitar arrangements that started as Youtube videos produced in his basement during the pandemic.
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Albert Cummings’ new album, Ten, carries a simple title while serving as an easy way to count discography entries, but it doesn’t capture all that’s on the line for the Massachusetts-based guitarist’s artistic and career trajectory.
Recorded in Nashville, produced by Chuck Ainlay (Mark Knopfler) and backed by some of Music City’s top session players, Cummings retains his blues-rock edge while expanding his sonic template.
This album is a clear departure from your previous efforts, employing sounds of country, Americana, and more.
It’s definitely different. What’s cool about this album is that I can play every song on my acoustic, just like I wrote it.
From a writing standpoint, it’s definitely more personal. You dusted off several songs you’ve had for quite a while.
“Beautiful Bride” is one of those songs. I did that with Double Trouble back in 2003, with Reese Wynans putting some keys behind an acoustic part. But that was it. I never felt like I did that song justice.
Those familiar with your work might hear “Meet the Man” and think it’s another example. It’s evocative, almost gospel.
I have been sitting on that one since 2010. I wrote it the night my father died. I always wanted to record it and put it out, but it never felt like the right moment. But I knew it was time when I got to Nashville, in that studio with Chuck. The first thing Chuck said to everybody was, “Our main mission is to give Albert something he’s never had.” That song was instantly in my mind.
From a guitar standpoint, is there a favorite solo or moment on this album that stands out to you?
On “The Hard Way,” I had this Tele – a Custom Shop that Greg Fessler built with a wide neck. I don’t play it a lot, but it’s got a good tone. They went overboard on it – the pickups, everything. It’s sparkly purple, and just gorgeous. Anyway, there’s one part in that song that’s like a walkdown, and I just railed onto that Tele and did a lot of single-note holds, and it was very moody. I try hard to communicate with my guitar, and I can hear myself telling the story in that part. It’s not much, but to me that was the favorite spot, when I can tell I was feeling the song and the message of the song, and talking about it with my guitar versus singing about it.
One of the most guitar-heavy tracks, “Sounds Like the Road,” features your workhorse early-’90s Strat.
Robben Ford gave that song to me, but he doesn’t even know it exists! I met him in a hotel lobby in Massachusetts; we were both playing The Narrows, in Fall River. I’d played the night before, and Robben was checking in while we were checking out, and I was star-struck. But, I spoke with him for a few minutes and he asked about some of the places we’d played. I told him how we were playing here and there, and he just said, “Sounds like the road to me.” I walked out of there thinking, “Now that should be a song!”
How have you modded your Strat?
I’ve always loved that guitar; I’m gonna guess it’s a ’92. It’s a Lace Sensor guitar, but I put a ’59 humbucker in the bridge, a Texas Special in the middle, and a Tele pickup on the neck. I just put my third neck on it, which is odd, but I wear out truss rods. I’m not sure how.
You go heavy when it comes to strings.
I do. I play Dunlop strings, a custom set – .012, .016, .022, .036, .046, and .058. I tune down a half step to E-flat, and that makes a big difference. And, these strings don’t break. I can get three or four gigs on a set.
Did you feel liberated to release something that’s such a departure from your previous efforts?
This time I was like, “I’m sick of worrying about what somebody else is gonna like.” I just want to play what I want to play, and if I get nailed for it, so be it. I’ve already seen some “Cummings has gone country” reviews. My blues stuff is still there, but I don’t care about genres anymore. I’m sick and tired of the same five that everybody has to fit in.
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Sacred steel is that unique vein of gospel music highlighting pedal-steel guitar and delivering a powerful sound that can shake the rafters. On his debut, Drums, Roots & Steel, DaShawn Hickman works with bassist/producer Charlie Hunter, two percussionists, and singer/wife Wendy Hickman to conjure music of staggering beauty and grace. VG checked in with DaShawn to unpack the heavenly sounds within.
We tend to think of organ as the primary worship instrument, but the steel guitar was in your church growing up.
The steel guitar is common to the organization I grew up in, and definitely the leading instrument. It was introduced in the ’30s. I remember at an early age hearing the steel guitar in my home church being played by my godfather, Mr. Leonard Moore; he played a white 10-string Emmons. He had a laid-back style and would let me play around on it after service was over. Later, around six years old, my mother, Rev. Alice Hickman, was learning to play. She started teaching me and at that point I knew this instrument was in my future.
Who are your steel influences?
My influences are my mother, Terrance Fonville, Alvin Fonville, The Campbell Brothers, Henry Nelson, Calvin Cook, and David Fonville – the majority of them still are a part of The House of God organization. Influences from outside of the church are Derek Trucks, Paul Franklin, Buddy Emmons, and Tommy White, just to name a few.
Production on the album is understated and uncluttered. What did guitarist/bassist Charlie Hunter bring to the party?
Charlie brought the idea of dialing things back. He thought it would be nice to have the steel guitar be more front and center, and be heard for what it is. So, we sat down and came up with the tunes – a mix between jazz, gospel, blues, and funk. His bass lines really opened me up to play freely, and he knew exactly what to apply to each track. He covered a lot of ground, yet did not crowd everything.
Where did you get the idea to mix steel with West African percussion? It’s an incredible combination.
Charlie and I wanted to scale back drums with heavy cymbals and everything else. He brought up the idea of the West African drums; in his words, “Dude, it’ll be great, you won’t miss a beat, trust me.” I admit I was kind of iffy at first because I have always played with a full band using steel guitar, rhythm guitar, bass, drums, even keyboard. But once we got with Atiba Rorie and Brevan Hampden, they came up with real magic that made me a believer – these guys are amazing percussionists, and I was honored to collaborate with them.
Which steel did you use?
It was my main one – the Carter S12 with seven pedals and five knees, tuned in E7 – a combination of E9 and open E. I have one other pedal steel, an MSA S-10 with three pedals and two knees. That was my first one. One of my favorite guitars is a Guyatone HG-306 lap steel. It comes in handy when I just set up and go.
Your throaty, overdriven tone is huge. What are your amps and pedals?
I’ve played Peavey amps from the beginning, which makes you ask, “How many six-year-olds started out playing a Peavey Session 500 with a 15″ Black Widow speaker?” (laughs) I’ve owned several of their amps and still have a few, mostly Renown models. But, my main amp is a Special 212 with Blue Marvel speakers, and it’s a workhorse. As far as pedals, I’m pretty simple with the setup – more often than not you’ll hear me playing the Exotic EP booster, and I’ll occasionally break out the Boss V-Wah, which can be heard on “Morning Train.” It gives the illusion of a train whistle.
Our readers know Derek Trucks’ playing well – you can hear the parallel between Derek’s slide and your steel.
Derek is an incredible musician – undoubtedly one of my favorites – and there is a parallel between the styles. My gospel style developed from my upbringing in a church with the music presentation I witnessed. But I think you could bring Mr. Trucks to play in my church and it would sound like the steel is present. I would love to play with him one day – somebody make that happen (laughs)!
Do you still play in church, or are you mostly touring, bringing sacred-steel across the country?
I still play at my home church here in Mount Airy, North Carolina. When I’m not out traveling, I’m there. It’s where I come from and is the place that allowed me to grow as a musician. My church family has supported me in using my gift, and I love them unconditionally for it.
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Sister Rosetta Tharpe: Getty Images, courtesy of Gibson Brands. Neal Schon: Erik Kabik.
It’s been 11 years since Journey released a new studio album, and its latest, Freedom, is packed with 15 arena-ready rockers and ballads.
Lead guitarist/co-founder Neal Schon, keyboardist/guitarist Jonathan Cain, and vocalist Arnel Pineda were assisted by bassist and “American Idol” judge Randy Jackson (who played on Raised on Radio and Journey’s 1986 tour) and drummer Narada Michael Walden, known for his work writing for and producing R&B and jazz artists (he played drums on Jeff Beck’s ’76 album Wired.)
Jackson and Walden played on Freedom after bassist/co-founder Ross Valory and drummer Steve Smith were dismissed for business reasons.
Do you adapt your songwriting to the project you’re working on, whether it’s Journey or one of your solo projects?
I don’t think about it when I’m coming up with sketches in my little studio. I don’t really do any formal demos or anything like that. I do it really old school. My iPhone has about 2,000 ideas – it’s a new version of a cassette recorder! When I’m home, I knock out three or four a day – different ideas and different grooves. Sometimes it will be with Journey in mind, sometimes I don’t know what it is. I don’t push myself in one direction – I just let it come out in an organic form, as I’ve found I’ve had the best luck like that. The old saying is, “If you’re thinkin’, you’re stinkin’!” (laughs) It’s not rocket science. Musically, I’m all over the place, even in one day.
Was Freedom a “Covid album,” where you all recorded remotely?
You could call it a Covid album because nobody could be in the same room at the same time, but I was fortunate to work with Narada. We played live a lot, and he and I worked together so well in the studio. We were face to face the whole time. Some days, he was busy doing something, running around with his kids or doing chores (laughs), so I worked with our engineer, Jim Reitzel. You have the freedom of not chopping the baby’s legs off before it goes to the computer and everybody starts moving stuff around. Working like that and getting to hear the full sketch in your mind enabled the album to take on its own life. So many albums are “computer albums” – everything is to a click or regimented chord sequence. I find it very stifling. I miss the old days of going into a room, playing and arranging and writing. This was the second-best thing; I’d lay down a bass part because it helped everything feel more glued together. A lot of the stuff stuck, like on “Let it Rain,” I went into my Jack Bruce thing – all that sideways “lead bass” came out of me, because I just love that stuff! Randy copped a lot of it and played it better. He’s a superior bass player. Anything I can play he can play 10,000 times better!
Walden left the band for health reasons. Did Jackson do the same?
Randy’s no longer playing because he had a back operation, but he’s still a big part of the band. I’m managing the band now, and he’s helping me with that. We’re in touch all the time.
Which guitars did you play on Freedom?
I don’t remember how many I brought, but there were two rooms full (laughs)! I kept bringing more every day. I had so many at our house at that point, and I just kept loading my trunk. Every time I pulled up to the studio, I’d unload five or six. So, I had a good choice, and everything was covered. One was an older NS signature goldtop Les Paul Custom that had a heel-less neck.
The Strat I used was from the Custom Shop, a take on the ’63. I’m not certain what the pickups are – they’re noiseless, but not the new noiseless Fender pickups. They sound really awesome! I love the Relics. I sold a bunch of really old guitars in pristine condition (VG, August ’21), but I actually like the Relics better. They feel like they’re 50 years old, and they play better. The frets are a little larger. For acoustics, I had a bunch of Taylors.
This article originally appeared in VG’s September 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
