More is always better, right? Eleven is better than 10 on an amplifier, three pickups are better than two, and so on! That’s the promise of the seven-string. So when Jimmy Page showed up onstage in the ’70s with a doubleneck guitar, crowds went wild. Strum rhythm parts on the 12, break into a solo on the six, and people think you’re a genius! And how did he play 18 strings at once! That’s no doubt the premise behind this remarkable España 6/12 doubleneck guitar from circa 1970.
It’s not clear when the first doublenecks were made, but it didn’t happen until guitars were structurally sound enough to carry two arms. The concept may be related to the development of the lyre-guitar in the latter 1700s/early 1800s. Scholars had begun to rediscover the ancient world and its culture. This included learning about ancient instruments such as the kithara and the lyre, two related harp-like instruments with two arms coming off the body and strings tied to a crossbar at the top, with no neck. Luthiers took this concept and adapted it to the newly popular guitar by adding a support arm and brace to carry extra strings, either as sympathetic vibrators or as an extension of the bass, for chording. Today, we generally know this as the harp guitar. At some point in the 19th century, examples appeared with two necks, leading to the modern doubleneck.
Harp guitars were popular in mandolin and banjo orchestras of the 1880s until just prior to World War I. At that point, doublenecks all but fly off the radar until the electric age and Western music in the 1950s, when notable performers like Joe Maphis and the Collins Kids wowed crowds with hi-jinx on two necks, playing custom instruments by the likes of Semie Moseley and Carvin. Permutations included both six- and 12-string necks, as well as a six-string and mandolin neck. Very rarely, two six-string necks show up, or a six-string and bass neck. In 1958, Gibson began making the doubleneck used by Jimmy Page. A number of Japanese manufacturers made knock-offs of the Gibson version in the ’70s, but the form tended to recede after that. If you’ve ever hefted one of these, you know you better have a strong back! And if you’re going to jump off an amp and do the splits, you ain’t going to be carrying a doubleneck!
The circa 1970 España 6/12 doubleneck. Photo: Michael Wright.
Early lyre and harp guitars were, of course, acoustic, but in modern times the concept has been almost entirely electric. Which brings us to this very unusual España 6/12! Because this guitar has lost its label, there are very few clues regarding the date.
España was a brand name used primarily on acoustic guitars sold by Bugeleisen & Jacobson (B&J), the once mighty New York music distributor. The exact history of B&J is a bit fuzzy. They come into view in the ’30s but may have been around much longer. It appears they got out of the music business in the mid ’70s. A few years ago (at least) the company was still in business in Canada selling sporting goods, with no memory of their musical past.
B&J’s involvement with España goes back to the Folk Revival of the late ’50s and the emerging Baby Boom. Folksingers played guitars and banjos (long-neck banjos after Pete Seeger, because bigger is better, right?).
This interest sparked a mad dash to supply instruments, and the legendary “guitar boom” was underway. American guitar manufacturers, especially the large mass manufacturers such as Harmony and Kay, couldn’t keep up (most folks couldn’t afford a Gibson or a Martin back then). This opened the door for enterprising importers to find alternative suppliers, and in the late ’50s that meant Europe. The first significant European imports were Goya guitars made by Levin in Sweden. By the early ’60s, two other European brands joined the fray, EKO made by Oliviero Pigini in Recanti, Italy, and España, made by Landola in Finland.
Landola, or actually its predecessor company, was founded by the Mattson Brothers in Pietarsaari, Finland, in 1942, as a guitar distributor (among other things). Following World War II, the company began manufacturing guitars that hit the market in ’46. The company made a variety of products but concentrated on guitars alone beginning in ’56.
In 1963, Landola went to the Frankfurt Music Fair, offering its guitars and carrying the España and Val Dez brand names. Based on the few examples encountered, España appears to have been the premium line, while Val Dez was the budget. At Frankfurt, they apparently met with representatives from B&J and the American part of the España story began.
Like many – though not all – European acoustics, Españas are characterized by very lightweight construction. This is a godsend when you’re talking about a doubleneck! Better European acoustics tended to be made of very nice ribbon mahogany (as opposed to the rosewood favored by American makers). The top is a beautiful, clear German spruce inlaid with a nice abalone crown logo and bound in natty green and white line purfling. The necks are glued-in mahogany with rosewood fingerboards and pearl dots. This has its own hugger-mugger hardshell case.
This guitar plays really nicely, with a firm, crisp, bright tone more typical of mahogany. If you were looking for a primary axe, this might not be your first choice, but, like when Jimmy brought out his doubleneck, you could certainly expect to stop the show with this puppy!
Whether or not this dates from 1970 is anybody’s guess. It’s hard to imagine this from the early ’60s. By the mid ’70s, B&J was no longer importing Españas. Somehow, 1970 seems about right.
It’s difficult to say how rare this is. It’s the only one we’ve ever seen, and it’s not in any of the catalogs we’ve encountered. But it most certainly is cool. After all, more necks are better, right?
This article originally appeared in VG October 2009 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Watch Jared James Nichols tear it up on “Dorothy,” his ’52 Gibson Les Paul, running straight into his Blackstar JJN20 signature amp. The guitar is (get this!) a tornado survivor that had its neck reattached. Its pickups are untouched and the tailpiece and knobs are era-correct (courtesy of his pal, Joe Bonamassa). Our review of Jared’s new album, “Down the Drain,” appears in the April issue. Read Now!
The new episode of “Have Guitar Will Travel” has host James Patrick Regan speaking with Grammy-nominated singer/songwriter/guitarist Ruthie Foster, who grew up performing gospel music in churches across her home state of Texas. Gospel, along with guitarists Elizabeth Cotten, Mississippi John Hurt, and Sister Rosetta Tharpe, were highly influential to her. After high school, she joined the U.S. Navy and became a singer in its band, then launched a career that has taken her from South Carolina and NYC then back near home, to Austin. Her latest album, “Healing Time,” was recorded in New Orleans with producer Mark Howard. Please like, comment, and share this podcast! Listen Here!
Have Guitar Will Travel, hosted by James Patrick Regan, otherwise known as Jimmy from the Deadlies, is presented by Vintage Guitar magazine, the destination for guitar enthusiasts. Podcast episodes feature guitar players, builders, dealers and more – all with great experiences to share! Find all podcasts at www.vintageguitar.com/category/podcasts.
Gordy Quist and Ed Jurdi use a few of their favorite things to play “Heartless Year” and “Don’t Let the Darkness,” from the new Band of Heathens album, “Simple Things.” As they prove, with great instruments, come great stories – and great music. Gordy is running his real-deal ’52 Fender Tele through a sa-weeet brown Deluxe, followed by a rare 12-fret Gibson L-00 in “tuxedo” finish, while Ed starts on ’63 ES-330 going to a ’66 Princeton Reverb, then grabs a ’61 Hummingbird. Catch our review of “Simple Things” in the April issue. Read Now!
Def Leppard has always emphasized loving ’70s glam rock and protested being labeled a heavy metal band. Okay – but ’81’s raw High ‘n’ Dry, ’83’s Pyromania, and ’87’s Hysteria proved their hard-rock bona fides. While conducting sonic and stylistic experimentation the past few decades, they’ve kept a toe in their own mega-successful water.
The Leps’ 12th full-length studio album – its title pulled from T. Rex’s “Get it On” – has enough trademark, arena-ready anthems to satisfy longtime fans, along with signs of growth and maturity.
Guitarists Phil Collen and Vivian Campbell create tight riffs and solos that take off, and might leave you wanting more. Hooks are plentiful, but not as instantly unforgettable as the classics, and their playing fits the songs while never wearing out its welcome. “Take What You Want,” “Kick,” “Fire it Up,” and “Gimme a Kiss That Rocks” are the fist-pumping rockers. The mellow, emotion-steeped “This Guitar” is the best of the two duets featuring vocalist Joe Elliott and bluegrass/country star Alison Krauss.
With the band trying to please so many, you’ll hear quality songs throughout – metal or not.
This article originally appeared in VG’s August 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
There’s a timelessness to the earthy, powerful rock and roll captured in this collection. The blend of Textones founder Olson’s tough-and-tender voice with the ex-Rolling Stone’s blues-soaked guitar – especially his legendary slide – is simply combustible.
Mick Taylor and Carla Olson: Gary Nichamin.
Several sources make up this two-CD set. The first is ’91’s Live: Too Hot for Snakes, recorded during their second set at West Hollywood’s Roxy Theatre. The second includes four previously unreleased songs from the first set, plus songs from two of Olson’s solo albums (with Taylor) and classic Mick/Keef covers from Electric Flag keyboardist Barry Goldberg’s 2002 album, Stoned Again.
Olson originals like the country-pop “Rubies & Diamonds” and smooth rocker “Justice” are standouts. As you know, Taylor’s pivotal work from Let it Bleed through It’s Only Rock ’n Roll (1969-’74) took the “world’s greatest rock and roll band” to new heights. To remind us, three versions of “Sway” are included, while Mick also sings and infuses elegant bottleneck into “You Gotta Move.” One of the best cuts, “Remember That Moon,” is pure, flat-out rock and roll. Like most of this collection, it’s the perfect marriage of Olson’s Texas sizzle and Taylor’s British-blues legacy.
This article originally appeared in VG’s August 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
The Animals: Richard William Laws, Wikimedia Commons.
As a kid, I dug The Beatles, Stones, Yardbirds, Kinks, Manfred Mann, and pretty much the whole British Invasion. But, The Animals were special. Listen to the Fab Four’s “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and then The Animals’ “House Of The Rising Sun.” Both great, but the latter delivered something dark and sinister that appealed to my 11-year-old ears.
So ABKCO’s reissue of the band’s first four American albums – in glorious mono, on vinyl and with bonus tracks on CD – was big news. Produced by Grammy-winning engineer Teri Landi, they sound terrific. I first put my record player’s needle on the group’s self-titled debut in ’64, and 19 years later, when the Animals reunited for the Ark album and tour, I got to interview bassist Chas Chandler and guitarist Hilton Valentine for Guitar Player.
Both started out playing skiffle music, which was the pre-rock fad in England. “It was the easiest to play on guitar,” Valentine told me. After fitting an acoustic with a pickup, he got a Rosetti Lucky 7 solidbody, then a Höfner Club 60.
Similarly, Chandler recounted how he’d seen the doo-wop Treniers using a Fender electric (actually a Precision Bass) in the movie Don’t Knock The Rock and decided to make his own instrument, affixing an acoustic guitar’s neck to a drafting board. When he went to a music store to buy a pickup, “this little fat guy” was there for the same reason; that’s how he met Eric Burdon.
Eventually, Rickenbacker gifted Hilton six- and 12-string models, and he also used a white teardrop Vox Mark VII along with a ’66 Telecaster. After ordering a Fender Precision, Chas switched to Gibson and Epiphone hollowbodies – an EB-2 and Rivoli – because they were lighter and smaller-scale – even though he was 6’4″. “I’m always for an easy life, mate,” he laughed.
He reckoned that originally they were the only Newcastle band concentrating entirely on blues; by the time of their first album – John Lee Hooker and Ray Charles covers mixed with Chuck Berry and Fats Domino tunes – Chandler disclosed that to cut “House Of The Rising Sun” they had to fight like cats and dogs against producer Mickie Most’s wishes.
The classic opens with 21-year-old Valentine arpeggiating the Am-C-D-F chords, then E in the repeat. The rhythm section is spare; Burdon’s vocal is menacing at first, then howls before Alan Price’s organ solo lifts the dynamic.
One of Valentine’s early influences was Duane Eddy, and his Gretsch Tennesseean’s big tone on “Rising Sun” and predecessor “Baby Let Me Take You Home” attest to that. In addition to fellow instrumentalists The Ventures and England’s The Shadows and Bert Weedon, the one blues guitarist he cited was Hooker, whose “Boom Boom” and “Dimples” featured Hilton solos on the band’s second album, On Tour.
Valentine’s simple parts often took a back seat to keyboardists Price and, later, Dave Rowberry, who were more sophisticated, but he brought exuberance and excitement. He sometimes doubled the keyboard, as on “Bring It On Home To Me,” from Animal Tracks, and on “Club-A-Go-Go” he solos on 12-string.
On the same album, “We Gotta Get Out Of This Place” begins with one of the most memorable bass lines in rock history.
“We just all came up with our own parts,” Chandler said.
The band’s fourth LP, 1966’s Animalization, was helmed by Tom Wilson, whose credits included Bob Dylan; he later produced the Mothers of Invention. Valentine stands out on the album’s opener (and hit single), “Don’t Bring Me Down,” strumming descending chords through a Maestro Fuzz-Tone.
He plays one of his best solos on the Burdon-Chandler original “Cheating,” which was obviously the “blueprint” (putting it nicely) for “Breakdown” by Tom Petty. Lord knows what axe he’s playing on “Sweet Little Sixteen,” but his tone is akin to glass shattering. His gnarliest solo of all was on “See See Rider,” where he strangles a single note 20 times in succession.
“It was a thing of playing what you felt, and the solos I played were what I felt,” he said. “There wasn’t any technique. All of the solos, live or on record, just happened with no forethought at all. Maybe that worked in my favor; because I was so simple, so basic, I was right for The Animals.”
From 2004 until his death in ’21, Valentine returned to his roots with Skiffledog. In ’07, he joined Burdon’s band for two years. After leaving the band, Chandler, who died in ’96, discovered Jimi Hendrix and produced his first two albums before parting company. He also managed and produced Slade.
These four albums are not mere nostalgia. They show that the Animals were, without a doubt, one of the most-soulful groups in the annals of rock.
This article originally appeared in VG’s August 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
During lockdown, Eric Johnson killed time by poring through his old recordings of songs, ideas, and jams. He took old tapes – some mere audio cassettes – and recorded new material on top, generating two full albums. The music is strong, balancing fierce guitar-burners with vocal-oriented cuts.
Eric Johnson The Book of Making Yesterday Meets Today
The heavy-but-melodic instrumental “Soundtrack Life” could have worked on Ah Via Musicom, with glistening arpeggios and thick, violin-tone solos. “Floating Through This World” is a pop vocal, but there’s still a meaty solo; same with the ballad “Bigger Than My Life” and its sweet violin-Strat break. For heavenly E.J. tones, “A Thousand Miles” displays volume swells and that two-notes-per-string shred that made him famous.
Of the two albums, Yesterday rocks harder, as heard in “Maha,” a stomper with insanely fast runs on electric and nylon-string. “Move On Over” is crunchy hard rock layering the guitarist’s smooth-as-silk vocals on top. For electric blues, crank up “Sitting On Top of the World,” where Johnson pays tribute to the licks of a young Eric Clapton, yet makes it very much his own.
In all, these two releases aren’t radical departures from earlier Eric Johnson albums – yet deliver the Strat attack we crave.
This article originally appeared in VG’s August 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Steve Evans in 1985 with a ’65 Fender Jaguar and ’64 Jaguar XKE in Signal Red.
Steve Evans was just 12 years old in 1968, when he began to appreciate the sleek bodies of electric guitars in the brochures he collected through the mail – gazing until he memorized all the brands and models.
Steve with his ’05 PRS Corvette (in Daytona Sunset Orange) and ’15 Stingray Z06 in Torch Red.
His other burgeoning passion involved the British sports cars his Air Force veteran father repaired at Import Car Service, a garage he started upon returning stateside.
“His first was a ’57 Triumph TR-3 he bought new over there and had shipped,” Evans said. “After that, he drove a string of them he’d get through his shop – Triumphs, MGs, and an Austin-Healey that was his favorite.”
One day when Steve was six, his dad pulled up in a sky-blue TR-4.
“I was just tall enough to look over the fender as my friends and I gathered around,” he said. “It was the most beautiful thing I’d seen at that time. Dad grumbled at us a bit because we were all touching it, getting fingerprints all over the new paint (laughs).”
Evans on his 16th birthday, when he was gifted this ’67 Triumph TR-4 in Signal Red. “Dad bought it with front-end damage then had his guy in the shop re-paint it the original color. It was a fantastic car. I really loved it.”
Though he got a Harmony acoustic guitar when he was seven, it mostly collected dust. But after the Beatles boomed, Steve was given a solidbody Guyatone with a 2×12 Harmony combo and became pretty fluent with barre chords.
Evans was 18 when he opened Jacksonville Guitar Center in his Arkansas home town, and to finance the buy-in for becoming a dealer of the Acoustic amplifier line, he sold his prized ’73 Pontiac Firebird.
At an early Dallas Guitar Show a few years later, he spoke with Guitar Player editor Tom Wheeler, who was taking photos for a project that would become American Guitars; Evans sent several guitar images to Wheeler for the book, which led to some of his photos being used in A.R. Duchossoir’s The Fender Stratocaster, Electric Guitars and Basses: A Photographic History by George Gruhn and Walter Carter, Gretsch: The Guitars of the Fred Gretsch Company, by Jay Scott, as well as other boooks and magazine articles.
’65 Gibson Thunderbird IV in Cardinal Red and ’63 Ford in Chalfonte Blue. This bass was on the back cover of The Official Vintage Guitar Price Guide 2006 and now belongs to Cheap Trick’s Tom Petersson.
While first reading American Guitars, Evans fixated on a reproduced 1962 Fender ad showing a Jaguar guitar and a Jaguar XKE – his numero-uno car crush. It spurred a thought – what if he used his Pentax 35mm to shoot his two favorite material things, together. His photography game stepped up after a customer named Don Castle – a fellow guitars-and-cars guy who shot portraits for clients of his marketing agency – traded a medium-format Hasselblad as part of a guitar deal. Then…
“In 1985, I bought a ’64 XKE from a friend and decided it’d be a cool project to take pictures of name-matched cars and guitars,” he said. “I started driving around town, looking for matches. Whenever I spotted a car that fit, I’d make a note then return later with a guitar and camera, and knock on the door. All but one time, the owners said, ‘Go ahead and take pictures.’
“The exception was the first Mercury Montclair I spotted in a carport here in Jacksonville. I went to the door with my ’65 Montclair guitar in hand, and the lady barely cracked the door open, and wouldn’t let me take the photos. But I did find a Montclair in a junk yard not long after.”
Firebird flock: ’66 Gibson and ’68 Pontiac in Copper Metallic.
Every so often, capturing a cool pairing was as simple as stepping out to the sidewalk in front of his shop when the right car pulled up or the right guitar was brought in. And yes, he did buy one guitar specifically to search out its pairing.
“I got a brand new Kramer Carrera because I figured I could find a Porsche 911 Carrera,” he chuckled. As you see here, he succeeded, and had no problem selling the U.S.-made Kramer in his store once it had served its purpose.
The result of Evans’ research and effort is a marvelous set of photos that reminds us how the cultural connection between cars and guitars has always been more than just (custom-color) finish deep.
1965 Montclair guitar with a ’65 Mercury Montclair Marauder in Ocean Turquoise Metallic.’63 Epiphone Coronet in Cherry Red and a ’66 Dodge Coronet.Corvette coupling: ’67 sunburst Gretsch and ’67 Chevy Stingray in Teal Blue.’85 Peavey Horizon in Frost Blue and an ’81 Plymouth Horizon in Daystar Blue Metallic.73 Gretsch White Falcon and matching ’63 Ford Falcon Futura Sports convertible in Corinthian White.While not a name match, there’s no denying the design correlation between this Gibson Flying V Heritage and the tail fin of this ’59 Cadillac Eldorado.Broncos: a ’74 Fender and ’83 Ford.83 Gibson Spirit in Candy Apple Red and a 1980 AMC Spirit in Quicksilver Metallic.’69 Fender Mustang in Competition Red on a ’66 Ford Mustang in Wimbledon White.’85 Lotus L640 and an ’84 Lotus Esprit turbo in Jupiter Red.1964 Hagstrom Impala and ’63 Chevrolet Impala in Silver Blue Metallic.’86 Kramer Pacer Carrera and an ’86 Porsche 911 Carrera in Guards Red.
This article originally appeared in VG’s August 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Jeff “Skunk” Baxter: Amy Ryerson. Guitar photos by Jeff “Skunk” Baxter.
To a generation of music fans, Jeff “Skunk” Baxter was one of the most recognizable guitarists of the early ’70s. On TV shows like “Midnight Special” and “American Bandstand,” he was the Telecaster-wielding rocker who played on Steely Dan’s first three albums; his solos on “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number,” “Night By Night,” “Bodhisattva,” and “My Old School” remain the stuff of legend. He’s a first-call session cat, Doobie Brother, gear designer, and a consultant for the U.S. Department of Defense.
Baxter just released his first solo album, The Speed of Heat, and it’s packed with the eclectic synergy of a schooled jazz-rocker with a gift for melody and pedal steel.
How did The Speed of Heat come about?
I was doing a lot of jingles in Chicago. During one of the sessions, the producer had too much vodka and passed out the sheet music. He had a key signature, a time signature, and 64 bars with nothing in it. We improvised it in one take, and the client liked it.
At that session was C.J. Vanston, who became my producer and partner. I thought, “If I ever did a solo project, I’d like to do it with C.J.” We had this ability to leverage non-verbal communication on a musical level, which was unique and satisfying. The first song, “Insecurity,” was recorded in 1989, so this project has continued over a long time.
Why so late?
I didn’t do a solo record after leaving The Doobie Brothers because it seemed trite. To do a solo record right after leaving a successful band didn’t make sense. You need a little time. A little time turned into a lot of time because between studio work, producing records, working for guitar companies, and my day job, I didn’t have time. So C.J. and I got together, and it evolved. I found a wonderful record company that wanted to do this record, and The Speed of Heat is the result.
You cover Steely Dan’s “My Old School.”
When I was in Steely Dan, I sang “My Old School” when we toured. Every time we played it, it started to feel more energetic. Years later, I was playing it and thought, “This song needs some heat.” So, I wrote the arrangement and did it with C.J. I think it supports the energy. It’s a tribute to Walter Becker and Donald Fagen’s songwriting. A good song is a good song, no matter what. Originally, I wanted Steven Tyler to sing it, so I sent a copy with me doing a scratch vocal. Steven said, “Who’s singing that?” I said, “That’s me.” He said, “Why don’t you sing it?” I sing background, but I don’t consider myself a singer. He said, “What the hell! You should do it!” I said, “Well, you know more about this stuff than I do.” So, I took a shot.
This Jazzmaster (left) can be heard on Dolly Parton’s early-’80s crossover #1 hit “9 to 5,” and Baxter played this Burns Bison Junior on the Donna Summer megahits “Hot Stuff” and “Bad Girls.”
It’s great to hear you play pedal steel again.
I don’t think anyone has ever done an a cappella piece on pedal steel. I remember hearing “The Rose” on the radio and thinking, “This is a beautiful song. There’s something about this that might work.” So, I worked up an arrangement for an event. By the time I got to the second verse, Adrian Belew had started to play. By the time we got to the end of the second verse, we had the whole band.
We were celebrating guitar players who had passed on, but I was concentrating on my father. Hopefully, the emotion comes out to honor his memory.
You’re famous for creating killer guitar parts very quickly.
As a studio musician, you’re a tradesman. When you work on somebody’s house, you don’t build an extra door just for the hell of it. You’re trying to fulfill the vision of someone while adding your own craft. Gary Katz, the producer for Steely Dan, was producing a young lady and told me to come to the studio to tell him what the track needed. I listened, saying, “It doesn’t need anything. It’s fine.” He said, “That’s why I pay you triple scale.”
It has to do with using your experience and knowledge to help the artist. Sometimes it’s what you don’t play – it’s the spaces you leave. This is so the listener has the opportunity to insert themselves into what you do to make it accessible and enjoyable.
What’s the origin of your jazz-rock-country recipe?
It comes from my dad. He had a fabulous jazz-record collection, so I listened to all these wonderful jazz players – Teddy Bunn, Kenny Burrell, Wes Montgomery, Charlie Christian, Django Reinhardt, and Howard Roberts – who had a huge influence on me. I also grew up with everything from German oompah bands to rock and roll. So I guess it was a natural process where I synthesized this stuff at an early age.
What were you playing as a teenager?
I wanted to learn everything by The Ventures. My dad had one of those turntables where you could slow down the records. I tried to learn solos by Charlie Christian, Howard Roberts, and people like that. Les Paul and I became good friends. We used to do a lot of playing together. One night at The Iridium he said, “What do you want to play?” I said, “Let’s do ‘Lover.’” I remembered working on that as a kid. I’m ripping on this semi-quaver stuff in the middle of the solo, and he’s laughing his ass off. I said, “What’s so funny?” He said, “That part you just played, I sped up to twice the speed.” I remember shedding for hours trying to get that part right.
It was great to learn from a diversity of great artists. I was a Louie Armstrong fan – his playing was exceptional. I gleaned some of that outlook from people like Armstrong.
I learned from trumpet and saxophone books, and the really good guitar players, like Scotty Moore, who morphed into rock and roll by osmosis, came from the jazz era. The original guitar players were rhythm players. Many players listened to the soloing structures that trumpet and saxophone players were playing. I got a lot of my phrasing from horn players. My love of melody came not only from Louie Armstrong, but The Ventures. Their whole thing was to play the melody. That inculcated a strong sense of me starting with that.
What gear excites you?
I’ve always had an affinity for Roland gear because I had a hand in helping design much of it. The GX-100 Guitar Effect Processor is very cool. I’m also a big fan of the Boss ME-10 Multiple Effects board, which I helped design; the front end is analog. The GX-100 is fully digital, but maintains the ability for the player to be expressive. Roland is focused on getting things right. My pedalboard is an ME-10, but I’m switching to the GX-100 simply because I’m impressed by what it can do.
How about guitars?
I thought the Line 6 Variax was a cool idea, but you wouldn’t want to be dependent on the electronics. If something happened, you had to be able to finish the gig. Roland purchased a small percentage of Fender, so the obvious platform was the Mexican Strat. It’s a high-quality instrument that plays great, and it’s affordable. The result was the Roland G-5 VG Stratocaster with all the modeling capabilities. That’s the guitar I use. I don’t want to bring a bunch of guitars with me. I’m happy with the sound because I had a lot to do with it. That’s my go-to at the moment, but I’ve used others. I used my Jazzmaster on “9 to 5” with Dolly Parton.
Why did you leave Steely Dan?
Walter Becker and Donald Fagen wanted more creative control of whatever Steely Dan had morphed into, and didn’t want to tour. I enjoy playing in front of people. I’d been traveling with the Doobies and played pedal steel for Linda Ronstadt. I was in England at the Knebworth Festival with them when I got the word Steely Dan would be a studio band. I hung up the phone and thought, “Well, that’s it for me and Steely Dan.” One of the Doobies said, “Now you’re in The Doobie Brothers!”
You were playing with the Doobies before you became a member.
I was a studio musician with them. The first record I worked on was Stampede. The song “I Cheat the Hangman” was a huge production number. We had it all orchestrated. After all that, I thought maybe I could do something that was musical sorbet – something to put a period on it and calm everyone down, collect their thoughts, and enjoy what I thought was a special flavor of classical guitar. That was the instrumental “Precis.” “How can I cram hundreds of years of classical guitar into 59 seconds?” So I came up with “Precis.”
Why did you leave them?
It was a combination of a number of things. I brought Michael McDonald in because Tom Johnston had severe health problems. I called Mike and said, “You need to be in The Doobie Brothers!” I sent him a one-way ticket, and we rehearsed for eight days straight, eight hours a day. It set the band on a very different path. As a change agent, you’re good for the transition, but as things begin to solidify, it’s time to go.
Michael did a great job. When Tommy came back, Michael had established himself as a singer/songwriter and was blossoming as an artist. It was the best of both worlds, and the Minute by Minute album gives absolute credence to that. That was where the band was going. I enjoyed playing guitar and having an eclectic license with that band, but I didn’t think I fit where it was going.
The solo on “How Do Those Fools Survive” is pure guitar ecstasy.
It was stream of consciousness. I didn’t know it at the time, but maybe it was a farewell. But, like I always do, I was trying to do my best. It was a nice white canvas. There was a lot of time to play, and it’s one of my favorites. I can recall my state of mind when I was doing that. The room was very quiet. It was just myself, the engineer, and nobody else.
Were you plugged straight into the board?
Yes (laughs). I played a guitar that I built; I’d just finished routing the body in the parking lot of Valley Sound, installing the electronics, wiring it up, and then I recorded “My Old School.” I think it was the same guitar.
The other solo I loved was on “Rio” from Takin’ it to the Streets, which was pure nylon-string.
Your chemistry with Michael McDonald continues on The Speed of Heat.
I remember when me and Michael first started with the Doobies. We were in my little apartment in Hollywood with a Roland drum machine and a cheesy keyboard, and we put together “It Keeps You Runnin’.” That was our first collaboration. That track, as cheesy as it was with the sounds, we couldn’t re-create it in the studio. If you listen closely to that track, our producer Ted Templeman used that as a basic track. We built tracks around it. It was an interesting beginning, middle, and end to put a point on it.
You once played bass on a gig with Jimi Hendrix?
I was working at a music store on 48th street in New York, and I’d put together a right-handed guitar for a left-handed player. I set it up, but the gentleman never came back. Jimi came in with a beat-up Duo-Sonic and was looking for another instrument. He seemed like a nice cat, so I traded him for it. In my blissful ignorance, the instrument I gave him was much more than the one I got in return, and the shop docked me three weeks pay.
Anyway, Jimi invited me to come and listen to his band. The bass player was late, so I played a couple tunes because they had to go on.
We became the kind of friends where you don’t see each other a lot, but there’s a closeness when you do. I thought very highly of him, and I thought about how he served his country. Down in the Village, where we used to play, people would say things about the Vietnam war, and he would become very quiet. All he wanted to do was play guitar. He was a fine human being. I took that one a little harder than usual.
The body of this guitar is heard on the solo to Steely Dan’s “My Old School,” from 1973’s Countdown to Ecstasy. Though it currently has a modern (made in Mexico) neck, Baxter says, “I’ve had a few different necks on it, and when I did ‘My Old School,’ it was one from my ’63 Jazzmaster that I’d re-fretted in ’69 using Gibson jumbo bass fretwire, which I lovingly set in, ground, crowned, and polished using various gauges of steel wool, Old English furniture oil, and tanned leather for the final polish. It’s still the best Fender neck I’ve ever played, and it’s now on a Roland/Fender GR Strat I use in the studio. The electronics were from a Strat that Bobby Cochran later told me had been owned by his uncle, Eddie Cochran. The electronics were pretty messed up, but I salvaged the pickups, pots, and three-way selector – a Centralab 1452. I rewired it to function for the bridge and neck pickups, converted the middle Tone control to a Volume for the middle pickup, converted the remaining Tone to a master, and replaced the wiring with period-correct wire. In the late ’60s, as more folks started to access the in-between spots on the switch, Danny Armstrong and I modified a bunch of 1452s to function as five-ways and started installing them in pretty much every Strat that came through his shop on 48th Street in New York. We were always mindful of not drilling more holes in an instrument than was absolutely necessary.”
You played the solo on “Hot Stuff” by Donna Summer
Giorgio Moroder called and said, “I’m doing this record with this new artist.” I asked, “What genre is it?” He said, “It’s disco.” I’d done so many disco sessions I said, “Nah, call Jay Graydon.” So, he called Jay, who is a formidable guitar player. Jay said, “Nah, call Skunk back.” Giorgio called me back, and I said, “Okay, I’ll do it on one condition. You let me play what I want.” He said, “Absolutely!” He tried to take the disco genre and move it into a rock feel. I bought a Burns Bison Junior guitar for 35 bucks, grabbed a six-pack of Budweiser and a Deluxe Reverb, went down to Rusk Sound Studios, and met Giorgio. I did it in one take. Donna was one of the nicest people on the planet.
On “Bad Girls,” I brought in the prototype guitar synthesizer, a project I’d been working on with Roland. So, it was probably the first time a guitar synth was used on a #1 record. From then on, I played straight-ahead guitar because I had a long background in rhythm and blues. I don’t have an inflated view of myself, but I know I can infuse energy into things. That’s what Giorgio wanted. He wanted me to bring it up a step and play what I wanted to play. There are times in the studio when they lay it out for you and say, “Play this!” especially when you’re playing a soundtrack or a jingle. What’s most important is to be able to satisfy – “Cut the gig,” as they say.
What else have you been up to, and what’s next for you?
I’ve been touring, and it seems to be going very well. I’m tremendously pleased with the reaction and acceptance of what we’ve been doing. We’ve been playing the album with extra songs, and it’s been extremely gratifying. I’ll eventually go back to my day job and do sessions, and I did a gig in Jacksonville with Sixwire, a wonderful band from Nashville. We do a lot of charity work with Alice Cooper, Felix Cavaliere, and different folks to raise money for St. Jude’s.
This article originally appeared in VG’s August 2022 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
