Wolf Marshall was absorbing music before he could walk or talk. Born to a mother who was a concert pianist, he napped beneath the instrument as she practiced pieces by Bach, Chopin, Beethoven, and Debussy. Those hours shaped his mind – and life.
“I was hearing intricate music, and if she flubbed a note, she corrected on the fly,” he said. “When you hear that over and over, your brain makes conclusions: ‘That’s the right note, that’s the wrong note.’ It’s hard-wiring.”
By age seven, he was learning violin, followed by piano five years later, then cello. When he was 15, his parents rented a Les Paul Junior and a Deluxe Reverb that he took to wholeheartedly, copping licks from Dick Dale and Beach Boys records.
A decade later, he became a key piece in the evolution of guitar pedagogy, helping produce tapes and videos as musical director for the nascent Star Licks. Developing programs with Steve Lukather, Larry Carlton, Ray Flacke, Brad Gillis, Jeff Watson, and others helped make him well-known to anyone who read music magazines, player or not. Through the years, his reach expanded with nearly 100 lesson books and videos.
For the past 23 years, his monthly “Fretprints” column has been one of the most-popular elements of Vintage Guitar, detailing the biographical and professional histories of great players along with a few signature licks.
This year brings Wolf Marshall’s Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language, which is closest to his heart and may be the most vital to his legacy. We spoke with him to look back on his life and discuss his vision for the new book.
What do you most recall about taking violin lessons as a boy?
How I liked the feel of the strings and the vibrations in my face. It was very immediate.
Why did you move away from it?
At nine or 10, I needed a bigger violin, and my parents decided that rather than buy one, I’d take piano lessons from Mom, which led to my having no discipline whatsoever (laughs). They then put me in cello lessons for a year, and that didn’t take, either.
What was so disagreeable about it?
Sitting down! It just felt so different. Looking back, I appreciate that it was an attempt to recapture the appeal I had for a stringed instrument along with Mom’s love of classical music. But by then I was interested in R&B and rock and roll.
The guitar first caught you ear through surf music.
Absolutely – Dick Dale, the Surfaris, the Beach Boys’ early albums, and most importantly, Link Wray’s “Rumble,” the first guitar song I learned by ear. I joined a record club at 12 and my first big purchase was Dick Dale King of the Surf Guitar, Surfin’ Safari, and a strange album of surf music with studio musicians backing movie star Aki Aleong.
You were 14 when you got your first good guitar, a ’56 Les Paul Junior and a Silvertone amp.
Yes, I had a Kay guitar for one month, then my folks got the Les Paul from Betnun’s Music, which was an instrument store in a nearby home. I learned a lot on that guitar.
There was a store in someone’s house?
Yeah, it was an odd situation, but my school friend, Mel, was the son of the owner and he wanted to be a bass player, so he’d invite me and my brother to their place, and we’d play. They had used Jaguars, Jazzmasters, Precision Basses, and a ’63 or ’64 Strat that I used to play surf songs through a Dual Showman. I later bought a ’64 Strat because I loved that guitar so much.
When you were 16, you started hearing Yardbirds, Blues Breakers, and Cream.
Oh, yeah! I went through a Beatles phase, of course, and a Byrds phase; the Rolling Stones’ first three albums were huge for me. And that led to the Yardbirds, Cream, and Bluesbreakers. That’s the stuff I played when I started gigging on the Sunset Strip.
From hearing those bands, you backtracked to the blues?
Yeah, after Clapton and Jeff Beck – the Yardbirds “Heart Full of Soul,” Over Under Sideways Down and particularly “Jeff’s Boogie.” After that, my uncle took me to Southern California Music, where the third story had combo instruments – drum sets, guitars, Hammonds – and I got a new ’65 Tele for my birthday.
How did growing up in L.A. shape your musical life? At the time, hanging out at music stores and venues could lead to meeting big-name players.
There was a series of events. Our band played the Sunset Strip and interacted with a lot of influential musicians, like the guys from Buffalo Springfield. I once sat in with a group opening for the Yardbirds with Beck, and that was a thrill; I saw his Tele and I thought, “Wow, that’s the guitar.” His sound blew my mind.
I spent time with Moby Grape on their first trip to L.A.; Skip Spence helped me pick a ’57 Les Paul TV at Wallich’s Music City, on Hollywood and Vine. Most significantly, I got valuable advice from Mick Abrahams, guitarist on Jethro Tull’s first album. I’d loved his playing since I was 17; to my ears it was like Cream-era Clapton meets progressive and modal jazz. We had a deep conversation when his then-new band, Blodwyn Pig, was performing at the Whiskey. I asked “What was the magic ticket?” and he said, “Get yourself a Kenny Burrell album.” The next morning, I bought Blues: The Common Ground at Wallich’s. It set a course in my life.
What was your band situation at the time?
I had joined The Palace Guard, house band at The Hullabaloo, a big club near Sunset and Vine in the days when playing pop music while wearing uniforms was a thing for rock-and-roll bands. The vestiges of that band became Sweet Wine, which rotated between clubs – Gazzarri’s, the Galaxy, the Red Velvet, and the Hullabaloo. Jim Morrison sometimes came to watch us at Gazzarri’s; he was a big fan of blues and we were the only band on the Sunset Strip playing Otis Rush or Freddie King songs. Everyone else was doing British Invasion stuff. We recorded six tracks for an album before our deal fell through.
Did that experience spark your appreciation for studio work?
Well, I was excited. I used to watch sessions at Gold Star, which was the main studio in that part of Hollywood. I think Phil Spector did stuff there, as did Ike and Tina, and Brian Wilson with the Beach Boys. I was invited by a producer, who wanted us to be one of his “kid bands,” and I saw members of the Wrecking Crew playing behind a singer – I think it was Joanna Moore, doing a country pop album. But guitarist Mike Deasy made strong impression on me because he commanded the session and played a Strat on the date.
After Sweet Wine broke up, I kicked around Hollywood for about a year, then moved to Frankfurt, Germany. My father was there, working for the Army as an engineer, and I wanted to become a more-educated musician. Every weekend, we’d go on trips – France, Switzerland, wherever – and I experienced a lot of cultures. He’d drop me off, say in downtown Dusseldorf, and say, “I’ll pick you up at five,” and I’d walk around, go to clubs. I met a lot of musicians. It was very broadening.
Were you focused on playing jazz at the time?
It was aspirational. I was listening to Kenny Burrell, Les Paul, Howard Roberts, Wes Montgomery, Joe Pass, Johnny Smith, Barney Kessel, and trying to make sense of what I was hearing.
After a year, you moved back to L.A.?
Yeah, I enrolled at L.A. City College, which had a strong jazz program where I learned to read charts in a band setting. From playing piano and violin, I knew how to read music, but didn’t know how to read it on guitar.
Besides going to school, I attended a week-long seminar in Colorado taught by Johnny Smith. His course had just dropped and Chet Atkins came in as a guest performer. It was exciting – and eye-opening! In L.A., Howard Roberts suggested I study with George Van Eps, which I did for two years. I’d go to George’s house every two weeks; he always had new music for me to learn – exercises and concepts he’d put on paper. He’d demonstrate and we’d play them, back and forth. And he specified, “This is what this means, this is how I do it.” A lot of that I wrote down, retained, and now have in the jazz course.
George was very systematic. With him, I learned to be very organized. I then studied with Joe Pass, who was the opposite; you were just hanging, playing things together. Sometimes he’d take a phone call and leave me sitting for 20 minutes. But the upside was the lesson was hours long.
How long did you study with each of them?
With George, it was on and off every couple of weeks for two years. With Joe, I had only four or five lessons but they were monumental, lasting all day. He wasn’t big on theory or technicalities; he brought out the intuitive side of guitar musicianship.
What was your next step?
I started going to jazz clubs more. I met Pat Martino at The Lighthouse in ’76, when he was touring behind Starbright. That was fascinating. At the time, I was doing a lot of transcribing; I taught myself by ear because Joe never showed me music as written charts. By contrast, George’s stuff was so structured that I didn’t know how to play it within a piece of music – a lot of concepts that didn’t have context. Transcribing Pat’s solos and writing them in notation was like having a lesson with him and placing ideas in context. He also encouraged me to transcribe and notate, as we shared a love of calligraphy.
Howard Roberts became very important to your playing. Where did you meet him?
Yes, he was one of my earliest jazz-guitar heroes and his method books were the first that made sense to me. I met him at Donte’s, in North Hollywood, when he was conducting a workshop that eventually became Guitar Institute of Technology (GIT). These were classes for future professionals and other students included Lee Ritenour, Mitch Holder, and Tim May.
In December of 1991, Howard proposed an idea for a music school using computers connected from all over the world, and asked me to help create the curriculum. He was talking about the internet before it was a common reality. After he passed in June of ’92, I received his pre-war Gibson ES-150 – the famous Black Guitar (VG, August 2000) – and he continues to inspire me through recordings and that unique instrument.
You spent two years at LACC then finished your degree at UCLA. What was your plan from that point?
I wanted to enter the studios and play jazz. I got a gig with an R&B group called Hot, and we toured a lot behind their #1 hit “Angel in Your Arms.” There were jazz players in the touring band, and it led to some L.A. studio work at places like Davlen, Cherokee, Sunset Sound, and other studios in Hollywood and the Valley, mostly doing rock and pop sessions.
Which guitars were you using at the time?
I had a ’65 ES-175, a ’78 335, ’77 L-5S, an Ibanez copy of a Howard Roberts, and a couple of acoustics.
What were the rock sessions like?
It was like what Larry Carlton was doing – pop songs with a rock solo through chord changes. During that time, I started writing charts for a music publishing company, V&M Music. I’d hire a bass player, keyboardist, and drummer, then conduct the session. I worked with them for about a year, doing pop songs, film scores, and theme songs. That led to my first Star Licks session imitating Eddie Van Halen; I answered their ad in The Music Connection for a studio guitarist who could copy famous players.
How did Star Licks start?
Well, the guys who started it, Mark Freed, Andrew Cross, and Robert Decker, saw a market for that type of education, which had a growing audience thanks to guitar magazines, which had started publishing tab and lessons focused on specific players’ techniques. They had the idea of cassette tapes with licks in the style of Black Sabbath, George Benson, Eric Clapton, Eddie Van Halen, Carlos Santana, etc. I’d transcribe the licks, change ’em a bit for the sake of copyright, play them in the studio, do the notation, and they’d print them in a booklet to go with the tape.
What sort of changes would you make?
Simple things, really. I’d create variations without losing the spirit – try different-but-similar melodies from the artist’s general vocabulary and re-work familiar phrases, adding combinations from various solos.
How many Star Licks packages did you do?
More than 40 in every style, but mostly hard rock and metal because that was so popular in the early ’80s. We had some in genre styles – a “hard rock” tape, a “blues” tape, a “country” tape, one that was “progressive rock” with Steve Howe or Allan Holdsworth licks. When home video became common, Star Licks kept pace; the first video we did was with Brian May, then Tony Iommi, Albert Lee, and Al McKay from Earth Wind and Fire. My own video, Beginning Lead Guitar Power Builder, was the sixth, and it became very popular as a starting point for rock players.
Were you mostly focused on studio work by then?
Well, I was doing studio and a bit of road work. My ear was always to the ground, looking for the next studio gig, publishing demos. Sometimes there would be nothing for weeks, so I’d do other stuff; if somebody told me about a band that needed a guitarist who could sound like Eddie Van Halen, I’d look into it.
What led to writing your first book of transcriptions?
I have to credit Pat Martino. He loved the way my transcriptions looked, and encouraged me to do more. Within a couple years, I had 250 pages of his music. When he did Joyous Lake, he asked me to do lead sheets for copyrighting.
As the scene changed in the late ’70s, I started doing more-advanced rock stuff. I had students who wanted to learn Van Halen, Robben Ford, or maybe the Larry Carlton solo in “Kid Charlemagne.” So I wrote that out. I did a lot from Inside Story, Yellowjackets, Room 335, a Jay Graydon solo, some Lee Ritenour and Carlos Rios. Eventually, I hooked up with Cherry Lane, which had rights to publish Randy Rhoads/Ozzy Osbourne music for print. They asked me to transcribe a few things because their transcriptionists were piano guys who didn’t know how to notate Randy’s techniques – the bends, vibrato, tapping. We invented new symbols to address it.
What else do you recall about doing the Rhoads Star Licks book?
It was a challenge deciding what not to cover. Twenty licks by Randy… Should I use “SATO” or “Believer”? “Over the Mountain” has good stuff. Everything off the first album? Cherry Lane had the entire catalog, so we did three books. I also did a book with audio for Music Sales called Original Randy Rhoads.
Do you remember what you were doing when you heard that he died?
Yes. I was at the airport and somebody waiting for a flight said to me, “You look like somebody who might be interested in this…” and mentioned hearing a local TV-news report about a guitarist who died.
What was the local chatter in the days that followed?
A lot of people knew Randy as a great person and great soul, so there was deep sadness in town. We immediately realized that his legacy would be important. There’s a lot of Randy’s influence in ’80s music, even in earlier metal bands like Judas Priest and Iron Maiden. Powerslave and Stranger in Time are so different from what they did in the ’70s. They were less-bluesy and there’s classical consciousness in how the guitar leads correspond to chord changes – that’s the Rhoads effect. The harmonic-minor sounds Randy played were not common before. Eddie Van Halen was doing neoclassical arpeggios and such, like on “Eruption,” but he wasn’t sneaking in harmonic-minor stuff all that much. Randy and Yngwie were. I was teaching four days a week and all my students were influenced by Randy.
How did you get into magazine work?
At the 1982 NAMM show, I met John Stix, who’d just started Guitar for the Practicing Musician, and he asked to see some of my work. I worked with them until 1990, doing a monthly column and interviews with people like Stevie Ray Vaughan, B.B. King, Allan Holdsworth, Larry Carlton, and John Sykes.
What was the impetus for your Wolf Marshall Guitar Method?
In 1990, I signed with Hal Leonard specifically to create that course, and we spent a year developing it. It was based on rock and blues principles and techniques, and had matching transcription songbooks with audio CDs [Power Studies] in a variety of rock music, from Carl Perkins and the Beatles to Jimi Hendrix and Bluesbreakers, from Van Halen and Randy Rhoads to Stevie Ray Vaughan and Guns ’N Roses, to validate the tutorial material. The original plan was to do three volumes, but it expanded to eight and has since been translated into German, Dutch, Italian, and Japanese. As part of that relationship, I worked as columnist and interviewer with Guitar World and Guitar School for more than three years.
You were also key to starting Guitar One magazine…
Guitar One was part of an arrangement I had with Cherry Lane when it was being acquired by Hal Leonard, and I was the founder and original Editor in Chief. It was reciprocal; I had three years left on my contract, so I worked for Hal Leonard and GPM for a couple years to get back in their fold.
Was the magazine your concept?
Yes, from ’95 to ’98 it was called Wolf Marshall’s Guitar One. It emphasized education and tab, referencing my method and how it applied to rock songs. Each issue had transcriptions for 12 songs. The first cover was Hendrix.
Did you interview players?
We had two or three interviews and three or four educational articles – something on power chords, riffs, or an album. I interviewed Steve Vai, Alex Lifeson, Chet Atkins, Ritchie Blackmore, the Scorpions, and many others.
Did those discussions key on technical elements of playing?
It dealt more with music specifics than did other magazines. With Alex Lifeson, we talked about the chords at the beginning of “Limelight.” There wasn’t a lot of that in other magazines I’d been writing for.
Was there talk of taking the magazine beyond the length of your contract?
Yes, it continued without me for a few years. I’d gotten an offer to work with Riff Interactive and Microsoft, and really wanted to be part of the new online media. We did sessions with Hank Garland answering questions on a livestream, with chat, audio, and visual content. Same with Steve Lukather, Albert Lee, and others. We were breaking new ground. That’s how I ended up doing interactive chats in the late ’90s for the Experience Music Project and developing content for Line 6’s GuitarPort online lessons.
When did Vintage Guitar ping your radar?
In 1998 or ’99. After my experiences with the other magazines, I got the sense that VG had different motives and had the most-honest presentation. It was on newsprint when I first saw it. It didn’t feel corporate; it felt like an underdog with a different perspective. That was appealing. I felt a natural connection.
You experienced one of your personal and career highlights in 2012, when you connected with Burt Bacharach.
Yeah, one of my good friends, jazz guitarist Henry Johnson, encouraged me to start playing live again, so I started playing jazz in local places with a network of players. One night, I sat in with pianist and arranger Larry White, who later suggested that Burt Bacharach call me for a gig. Burt was assembling a band to do new music and working with a lyricist. It was thrill to get a call from him.
Where and when did you play?
We did shows twice a day at the Old Globe Theater in Balboa Park from November of 2012 through January ’13. It was exciting. I got to sit with the arrangers and work on guitar parts. Burt was there and involved during rehearsals, playing piano; afterward, he and I worked on parts together, which was one of the high points of my life because he was an idol. As a kid, I knew all of his hit songs.
How many pieces were in the band?
He had a full rhythm section – bass, guitar, drums, piano, synthesizer, horns, vocalists. It was like a Broadway show, and the band was below the stage, so I never actually saw it (laughs).
Which guitar and amp did you use?
I’d recently found a 2000 Surf Green Jeff Beck Strat. I’d always wanted one. I had a ’92 in purple – that was my #1 Strat, so when I saw the green one at Lark Street Music, I jumped at it. For mellow things that needed a contemporary jazz humbucker sound, I used a Sadowsky semi-hollow, like a small single-cut 335. Burt also wanted acoustic guitar – steel- and nylon-string – so I asked Taylor to endorse me for the show, and they gave me two.
What did you run the Strat and Sadowsky through?
My Cyber Twin SE, which went direct in stereo to the house console.
Over the last 20 years, what has influenced your guitar choices?
Most have been jazz guitars – the ’64 L-5 I play a lot, and I have a ’63 for a spare. I also have a 1960 dot-neck 335 with the transitional long pickguard.
What’s the story behind how you got the first L-5?
That starts when I built a custom Strat while doing a Star Licks Yngwie Malmsteen video. I was heavily into Yngwie’s playing, so I had it made with a ’76 neck that I’d rescued. One of my students loved the way that guitar looked – white, H/S/S pickups, scalloped fretboard, flame-maple neck. It was before there was an official Yngwie model. Anyway, after the video, I never played it much, and my student loved playing it when he’d visit. He’d say, “I really like that guitar,” and I really liked his L-5 (laughs), which he wasn’t playing. So we made a mutually beneficial trade.
Some of your other guitars have interesting histories.
Yes, and while nothing tops the Black Guitar, which was Howard Roberts’ main instrument in the ’60s, I also have the ’66 Super 400 that belonged to Wayne Carson, a singer/songwriter who wrote “The Letter” and the Elvis song “You Were Always on My Mind.” Shortly after getting that, in 2017 or ’18 I found a ’69 Super 400, the first year with the restored Venetian cutaway.
Was that influenced by your appreciation for Kenny Burrell?
Yeah, Kenny was one of my favorites from the early days. After we performed together in 2006, he hired me to teach with him in the music department at UCLA. That’s a career highlight.
What did you teach?
Jazz Guitar Improvisation and repertoire, intermediate and advanced. I taught my students on one long day, because from 2013 to ’18 I had demanding weekly jazz gigs in San Diego. I did Wednesday solo, Saturday and Friday with my trio, and then eventually solo on other days at the Aviara Park Hyatt resort. For five years I was their in-house guy for events that needed jazz. I also played every Thursday night at the Twenty20 club at the Sheraton. It was a very busy time.
Which guitars did you use for those gigs?
My Super 400 on the solo gigs and my L-5 with the trio. The gigging was great for learning how to get the optimal sounds from them; the jazz-archtop sound is basically an amplified acoustic guitar that requires making allowances with your guitar Volume, amp settings, and fingering techniques.
What were your amps of choice?
For my trio, I used a Twin Reverb with the B-3, and for smaller places, a Fender Jazzmaster Ultralight head with two 1×12 cabs. I used a Fishman Performer or SA PA with the Platinum Pro EQ/preamp for solo gigs. For jazz-rock fusion, I was using two very nice PRS amps that Paul Smith graciously made for me after I helped him perfect his first build with Doug Sewell in 2009. They’re now invaluable studio rigs that provide something very different from my customary Marshall, Soldano, and Boogie voices.
How long did you keep the teaching gig?
For 16 years, until I got too busy to commute. I needed to focus and finish Jazz Guitar Course. When everyone was hunkered down during the pandemic, I wrote every day to finish the book and record the tracks. I also created and developed video for my TrueFire projects. That’s in the works with my upcoming TrueFire channel.
In August of ’18, you played one of John Pisano’s “Guitar Night” gigs at Viva Cantina in Burbank.
I did, and that was very meaningful. I’d always dreamt of playing “Fleur D’Ennui” with John, and he me let me “be” Joe for an evening.
Which amps are you playing most now?
In the studio, my ’66 Super Reverb, ’61 Bandmaster, and a reissue blackface Twin Reverb. I also have a Benson HR from the mid ’60s.
My newest acquisition is a Schertler Charlie, which is dedicated jazz-guitar amp. I also have a couple of Henriksens; they’re workhorse jazz amps, very consistent and reliable. On gigs, I also still use my Twin and Jazz Master.
Which guitars have you recently favored for regular use?
The vintage L-5s and Super 400s, a ’60 335, and a Riversong custom-made to my specs based on my L-5. There’s also a ’72 Tele reissue I used for a British documentary on Keith Richards that was part of a series called Under Review.
Your collection has its share of signature models.
Yes, I’ve got a Heritage Kenny Burrell Super KB, a Gibson Pat Martino Custom, B.B. King Lucille, John Lennon J-160E, two Jeff Beck Strats, a Hendrix ’68 Voodoo Strat, Stevie Ray Strat, a Fender Robben Ford, Sadowsky Jimmy Bruno, two John Jorgensen Gypsy-jazz guitars, an Eric Clapton 000-28EC, and an Eddie Van Halen Music Man.
What draws you to them?
In duplicating the work of many guitarists, you have to have something close to their rig. It also stirs my passion for specific voices. It goes back to my studio days, when I had to copy unique sounds.
Jazz Guitar Course has just been released. What is its premise?
Every genre has a language, and the course is simply the language of jazz spoken on guitar. It covers the essentials – chords, chord-melody, typical scale sounds of jazz, characteristic melodies and patterns, and improvisation in context over standard tunes using transcriptions, examples, and demos presented in a linguistic way, to foster hearing, intuition, assimilation, and innovation.
It also includes wisdom I gleaned from Martino, Burrell, Van Eps, Pass, Roberts, and Smith. That knowledge shouldn’t end with me; it must be part of jazz lore.
How would you describe it as a lesson series?
It’s very flexible and user-friendly. It can be linear, played chronologically, or modular, where a player can delve into a specific subject. If you want to learn about blues in jazz, go to chapter three and find essential blues chords and progressions. There’s also a chapter on blues melody, demonstrating classic licks and how those melodies are used in improvising against chord changes.
Those sections address many of the questions my students coming from rock and Chicago blues have asked as they get interested in jazz. Everything is explained in the manner those legendary players explained it to me.
This article originally appeared in VG’s April 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
