Brian Ray spent the last 11 years playing guitar as Paul McCartney’s side man. While such duty would be a career topper for pretty much any player, Ray is also thrilled about his new band, The Bayonets, and his forthcoming signature-model Gibson.
How does one get a gig with a Beatle?
Well, the gig came after spending 14 years with Etta James to make me the right person – a lot of traveling, sweaty gigs, making nothing, but having the time of my life. In the ’90s, I was doing a solo gig in L.A. when a man named Phillipe Rault asked if I was interested in auditioning for Mylene Farmer – the Madonna of France. I got the gig and her new drummer was none other than (future McCartney bandmate) Abe Laboriele, Jr. Fast forward to 2002, and Paul’s producer, David Kahne, called Abe to do the Driving Rain album.
After that, Abe said they were going to tour, and I said “Who’s going to play guitar and bass when Paul is playing piano?” He said they were looking for someone, so I stuck my arm up saying, “I’d love a shot at that.” Two weeks later, David called with news of a gig playing one song, “Freedom,” which Paul was going to play at the 2002 Super Bowl. Paul was very kind to me, and five weeks later we were in rehearsal for what was only planned to be a six-week tour, but that has turned into 11 years.
Later this year, Gibson will release a Brian Ray signature ’63 SG…
It’s one sexy beast (laughs)! It’s based on the big-necked 1963 SGs. Vic DaPra and I were discussing it, and he had the great idea of putting on a Bigsby to give it more string length. Finish-wise, I thought of my ’65 Epiphone Casino’s “silver fox” finish. I thought that would look so sharp with a white pickguard, truss-rod cover and rear-cavity plate, giving it a tuxedo look. It has big 6100 frets, coil taps, and even-taper pots. I’m thankful to Vic and Phillip Whorton, of the Gibson Custom Shop, for making it happen.
Your new band is The Bayonets…
It’s with my longtime collaborator and great friend Oliver Lieber, who’s a talented producer. We were thinking about a raw, guitar-hero approach like Duane Eddy or Dick Dale, with big drums like Black Keys or Jack White.
What are some of your favorite instruments?
My ’57 goldtop Les Paul is one of the best-sounding guitars I’ve ever played and the one I’ve owned the longest – since my teen days with Phil Kaufman. I played it on every Etta James show except one. And I have a ’59 flametop Les Paul that’s just ridiculous – it looks brand new! I also have some other Gibsons including some ’50s TV Juniors and a ’62 PAF ES-335 dot-neck that’s beautiful.
What’s next?
I’m really enjoying getting more fans of real music turned onto The Bayonets, it’s a great motivator. That, and hopefully a whole lot more music with Paul McCartney… we’ll see what he has in store!
This article originally appeared in VG August 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
The guitar synthesizer has been around for more than 30 years and made significant inroads to contemporary music, thanks to fusion heroes like Pat Metheny, John McLaughlin, Al Di Meola, Steve Morse, and Allan Holdsworth. The latest wrinkle is the Misa Kitara, which shifts the paradigm.
Instead of a synth pickup that mounts on a standard guitar and triggers sounds via a floor unit (like the Roland GR), the Kitara contains its own synth sounds onboard, plus has the ability to control external keyboards and modules via MIDI cables.
A significant feature of the Kitara is its button-laden fretboard. Instead of pressing a string down against the fingerboard – which is great for guitar, but not quite perfect for guitar synthesizer – Misa provides every note on the Kitara’s neck with its own on/off button. Why is this significant? Because the keys on a keyboard or piano are simply on/off switches, and the basis of all MIDI synthesis is track accurately, i.e., the ability to turn a note on or off. Thus, for guitar synthesists, the concept of a neck full of buttons is potentially more desirable than strings and frets, something that has been previously brought to fruition by the guitar-like instruments known as Synth-Axe and Ztars from Starr Labs.
The Kitara has 24 frets which, times six strings, which equals 144 notes and, therefore, 144 buttons. Sounds weird, but it’s actually quite logical. You may further look at the Kitara, scratch your head and ask, “Where are the strings, amigo?” Instead of a string-triggered setup, the Kitara has a big touch-pad screen built into the top of the body; it’s somewhat like having an iPad mounted on a guitar. Using the pad, the player can interface with the Kitara’s sounds in multiple ways, i.e. set it to a bank of virtual strings so you can “fingerpick” or “strum” with traditional guitar techniques. Owing to the synthesizer architecture, you can also trigger sounds by sliding your finger on one of these virtual strings, or even bend a note. There are other ways to “pick” sounds, as well. Bring up the glowing blue ball on the screen, put a finger on it, and drag it around the screen to create different sounds and effects, all while fretting notes and chords on the neck. You can also tap the screen to get various stuttering and staccato sounds – it’s hard to conceptualize without seeing. Fortunately, there are quite a few videos online that help understand what all this looks and sounds like.
So, how do you plug in the Kitara? You have a few choices. There’s a traditional 1/4″ cable output; use this to plug into an amp or PA and pull sounds from the guitar’s onboard synthesizer. Via the touch-screen is a menu of sounds that are easy to choose from – again, something like an iPad. Second is a MIDI output that can plug into a keyboard synth or a rack sound module. In this instance, the Kitara becomes a “controller” and drives the other synthesizer’s internal sounds (it may seem complicated, but is actually easy). In this part of our tests, we plugged the MIDI Out of the Kitara into the MIDI In of a Korg M50 keyboard synthesizer, and used the Misa axe to drive the Korg’s onboard sounds. This feature is useful when you want to get sounds other than those onboard the Kitara; in the world of MIDI synthesizers, the sky is the limit, sound-wise. There’s a headphone output for personal jamming, and a USB jack that plugs into an Internet-enabled computer to transfer files or get software updates.
So what’s the Misa Kitara like to actually play? In a word – cool! It’s both very similar to a guitar, and yet different. You hold and fret the Kitara like a guitar, but instead of pressing a string down to a fret, you push a button. It takes a second to get used to, but conceptually, is very similar. Picking and strumming is again similar, but, this being a synth, there’s no one way to do anything. You can set the Kitara to a traditional string configuration on the touch screen and play fairly old-school, or employ that onscreen blue ball and come up with some seriously whacky synth sounds.
For pros, the Kitara’s interface is simple and user-friendly. The touch-pad is easy to navigate and trigger. We really like the fact it’s plug-and-play, and you don’t have to spend much time tweaking MIDI settings to make the thing work. The built-in synth sounds are not all great, but there are presets that will help a new player get going without much fuss. Also cool is the instrument’s double-cutway/headless design – certainly an homage to the Steinberger M-Series guitar.
For debits, the buttons on the fretboard are almost too small. Unless you have petite fingers, it’s hard to press them with any mix of speed and accuracy. Also, the Kitara is an electronic instrument, so it requires a separate power cable in addition to audio and MIDI outputs. This isn’t a problem, but it’s another wire to think about.
Ultimately, who’s going to want a Kitara? It’s fair to assume it probably won’t appeal to the classic Fender, Gibson, or Martin player. Rather, it’s for guitarists who either dig guitar synthesizers and want to dig deeper, or one of the rising generation of electronic musicians who aren’t necessarily even guitarists, but want to make digital music using the latest tool. The instrument signals a new era for affordable digital guitars. The old-fashioned will never go away, but the rise of digital axes may be coming, fast and furious, and the Misa Kitara is an interesting tone-tool on the road to that reality. Deal with it.
This article originally appeared in VG January 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Frank (left) and Buzz Rogers in the “Pool House” at Frank’s home studio. Frank has his ’63 Gibson ES-335, Buzz a ’29 Gibson L-5. Photo: Benton Henry.
Fathers and music – two of the most influential things in the lives of most guitarists. No matter if their jams happen on a worldwide stage or the living-room floor, guitar players speak loud and proud of dear ol’ dad – the person who often put that first guitar in their hands! Each year, VG asks readers to help recognize those who formed their appreciation for music and the instrument we hold so dear.
This year, we also spoke to Frank Rogers, a music producer in Nashville who has helped craft 38 #1 hits by stars such as Brad Paisley, Josh Turner, Trace Adkins, Darius Rucker, and others on his way to 13 nominations at the Country Music Association (including a win for Album of the Year for Paisley’s Time Well Wasted), five consecutive Billboard magazine awards for Hot Country Producer, four MusicRow Producer of the Year nods, and five awards from the Academy of Country Music. To coincide, he has co-written three #1 hits – Paisley’s “I’m Gonna Miss Her (The Fishin’ Song),” as well as “Alright” and “This” by Darius Rucker – along with several other hit singles.
Rogers’ story is phenomenal, and he was encouraged every step along the path to success by his father, Frank M. Rogers, IV – a.k.a. Buzz. We recently spoke with both to discuss the influence fathers have had on sons in their family – and as you might expect, music has played a key role in their lives.
As guitar “collectors” go, the two Rogers represent opposite ends in the spectrum. Buzz is the prototype; a babyboomer who came of age when the Beatles pushed rock and roll to the fore, he gathers guitars out of appreciation and nostalgia, but also because they help him recall the influence of his own father. Frank, on the other hand, uses guitars mostly to butter his bread. Both say sound and feel matter most!
“I don’t care what year it was made, I don’t care what color it is, I don’t care what shape it is,” he said. “If it feels right and has the sound I’m looking for, it can be a $200 guitar or a $20,000 guitar. It’s about tone and playability. They really are tools.”
1) Frank Rogers calls this ’64 Gibson ES-335, “a special one.” 2) Frank aquired this 1961 Gibson Byrdland at an Arlington Guitar Show he attended with his father in the early ’90s. “I glanced through a row of guitars and saw it. I said, ‘Dad, that looks like your Byrdland, and he said, ‘It is. I never play it, so…’ I said, ‘Well, you’re not selling it.’ So I walked over and politely told the dealer that it, in fact, was not for sale (laughs), then I wrote a check to Dad.” 3) The Rogers’ and country star Brad Paisley discovered the work of Kent Everett while at Arlington in the early ’90s. This Silver Series guitar can be heard on many of the records produced by Frank Rogers. He calls it “The antithesis of the J-45.” 4) Frank bought this ’58 Martin D-18 from Bryan Sutton during a recording session. ‘I told him, ‘That guitar sounds great, what is it?’ He told me, then said, “I’m getting rid of it (because) I have another that’s pretty similar.’ I said, ‘Name your price.’” Photos: Rusty Russell.
Buzz, how did music become part of your life?
BUZZ ROGERS: I was always in a choir of some sort, from grammar school through high school, and also had a stint with the violin and clarinet, both of which I disliked. My father, who was 93 when he died three years ago, had a passion for music. He was an audiophile going back to the early 1950s and spent a lifetime buying speakers and amps, searching for the Holy Grail. We spent decades listening to music together. He had an ear for tone like no other, and Frank gets a lot of his producer’s ear from him.
Frank, what are the earliest memories of music registering with you?
FRANK ROGERS: When I would visit Dad, he was always strumming a guitar. I remember him playing along with Steve Miller Band records.
One of Frank Rogers’ most prized guitars is this ’98 Fender Custom Shop Buck Owens Tele, given to him as a gift from the man himself complete with a personal message engraved on the pickguard. Photos: Rusty Russell.
Who were your early guitar heroes?
BUZZ ROGERS: My father, first, because he taught me what he knew from his years playing saxophone – he adapted the notes in sax leads to chords. He was a Marine fighter-pilot instructor during World War II and stayed in California for a while after the war. He used to watch Les Paul play in a small club and would ask Les to help him with jazz-chord forms! As I got better at guitar, Dad would up the ante with more-difficult chords, and then I started learning pop songs from the ’50s and ’60s – I was born in ’47, so Elvis introduced me to rock and roll. I also loved Chuck Berry and I was taken in a big way by the Beach Boys and the Beatles, but I wasn’t driven by the players as much as the music – I grew up in a time when music influenced by the guitar was exploding; great players were coming up with things never done before. It was an exciting time, so I learned the chords and leads of songs I liked.
If I had to pick one guitarist as a musical hero, it would be George Harrison, who was at the forefront when the boundaries of rock-guitar weren’t fully discovered. He was a big part of my development – very tasteful and creative, and under-appreciated.
(RIGHT) Frank Rogers uses this ’64 Gibson J-45 for 80 percent of his songwriting work. “Every time I pick it up, I play something new. If I could have just one guitar, it would be the one. It’s got soul; it’s got songs in it.” Photo: Rusty Russell.
FRANK ROGERS: I never was a devotee of any particular band or artist or even style of music. If something grabbed me, I wanted to learn it, and that went from classical to country to R&B to rock to jazz – you name it. I grew up in the ’80s and the whole hair-metal thing, but at the same time I was a big fan of the Eagles and James Taylor, and on the country side there were a lot of pickers; Ricky Skaggs, Emmylou’s Hot Ban , etc. I learned certain guitar parts, but what really moved me was songs and how they made you feel..
What were your first guitars and amps?
BUZZ ROGERS: I got started at age nine, on my dad’s Epiphone archtop. My first was an Epiphone Casino; dad went to New York in 1964, to Manny’s Music, and told an impatient salesman, “I have flown here from South Carolina and I’m going to buy a Selmer saxophone, a guitar, and an amp if you don’t rush me.” He ended up sitting on a crate in the stockroom, trying out the semi-hollowbodies. I have the invoice framed in my music room. The next year, he bought me a Fender Bandmaster amp.
The heart of Frank’s stall of studio amps includes a mid-’60s Fender Deluxe Reverb, an early-’90s Matchless CR30 built by Mark Sampson, a plexi Marshall “…for when we need to get loud,” a vintage Vox AC30, a Carr Slant V6, and a Dr. Z Carmen Ghia. Amp photo: Rusty Russell.
FRANK ROGERS: Dad gave me a guitar for Christmas one year and I messed with it a little, then put it in the closet. I was about 12 when I took it out one day and went, “This is cool!” In high school I had a Strat, a DOD American Metal pedal, and a Fender Sidekick amp. I could make it sound like a clean guitar or use the pedal to sound like a distorted guitar – those were my options (laughs)!
How did each of you learn the nuances in the way one guitar sounded compared to another?
BUZZ ROGERS: For me, hearing differences in tone started before the guitar. Dad and I would listen to records by Duke Ellington, Harry James, Count Basie, Woody Herman, then later to Doc Severinsen and Maynard Ferguson, to see how clearly we could hear sax parts, trombones, and trumpets. I grew up as electric guitars were developed in the ’50s and ’60s and always paid attention to the differences in tone between Fenders, Gibsons, Gretches, and Rickenbackers. I’ve learned about great guitar tone with acoustic guitars from Frank.
(LEFT) Buzz Rogers’ ’58 Strat has “…a great neck and tone. There’s so much you can do with it.” Strat photo: Benton Henry.
FRANK ROGERS: I started really zoning in on guitar tones in college; as I learned more and more about gear, I’d hear the subtleties, and of course players record with different rigs – some sound great, some sound awful! So at the same time, I started relating different sounds to various guitars, amps, and pedals… then you go down the rabbit hole and learn to hear the differences in strings, picks, pickups, cables, etc. It never ends!
BUZZ ROGERS: Frank has an incredible ear for a guitar’s balance, clarity, warmth, and vibe. I’ve watched him go down a line of acoustics at a guitar show or at a dealer’s store, strumming from one to the next as they hang from the wall. He might strum 10 guitars, stop at one, strum it again, take it down, play it a few minutes, then put it up and say, “It’s good, but…” Every now and then, though, his eyes light up and he breaks into a light sweat on his face. That’s when one of us gets out the checkbook! We found my ’62 J-45 that way.
5) It’s clear and chimey, but not as powerful as the D-18,” Buzz says of this ’52 Gibson J-45. 6) Frank borrowed this ’57 Gibson J-185 from his dad when he was producing Brad Paisley’s first album (it can be hard playing the intro to and seen on the video for the title-track first single, “Who Need Pictures”). “It’s a great studio guitar – very bright and balanced,” Rogers said. 7) This ’64 Gibson Johnny Smith, “…has comfortable body and neck, and floating pickups. It’s a great jazz guitar,” says Buzz. 8) “If you want a Gretsch sound, it’s great for it,” Buzz says of this ’59 6120 with a zero fret, thick body, and Filter’Tron pickups. Photos: Benton Henry.
Buzz, when did you start to collect guitars?
BUZZ ROGERS: When Frank got to Nashville about 25 years ago. At that point, I had more time to play and I was following his career, which sucked me into the vortex of great old guitars (laughs)!
Did you have a wish list, or what was your approach?
BUZZ ROGERS: Actually, yes, I had a list of guitars that interested me. It was driven by different kinds of music I like so I would research and find an instrument that I thought best represented that style. I’d talk to knowledgeable people and read voraciously.
When Frank was at Belmont University, he and I started going to the Arlington Guitar Show every year with producer Mark Bright and Henry Gross (VG, August ’12). I was looking for a jumbo Gibson, and Mark told me that most Nashville studio guitarists preferred the J-185 because the maple back and sides give it a balanced, bright tone. On the second trip, I found a beauty and Henry freaked over its tone. So it came home with me. Henry also helped me find a good Rickenbacker 12-string. In the end, for me it’s about appreciating the tone of the old ones and enjoying them for their sound. Each one I have is special in its own way.
Frank photo: Rusty Russell.
What other advice have you gathered from Frank’s professional acquaintances?
BUZZ ROGERS: Bill Chapman, who at the time worked on guitars for Hootie and the Blowfish, is a Gretsch expert, and he told me the best was a ’59 6120 and what to watch for in a really good one. I’m also good friends with Wayne Henderson, and I learned a lot about Martins from him.
My M.O. has always been patience, research, and being around someone who could validate my opinion of a guitar’s tone and playability. I also rely on Joe Glaser for structural examination and opinion. I’ve made a few errors along the way, but for the most part I’ve navigated it fairly well. I want it as original as I can get, but it has to sound great and be playable. I believe that if you buy good-sounding guitars, beyond enjoying a fun hobby, the value of your pieces will go up, rather than down, over time.
9) Buzz calls this ’39 Martin D-18 “the most versatile acoustic I have,” citing its balanced, warm sound and the feel of its neck. 10 & 11) This ’66 Epiphone Casino and ’67 Rickenbacker 360/12 represent the influence of the Beatles and George Harrison on Buzz Rogers’ affinity for music. Photos: Benton Henry.
Frank, what makes for a good guitar for you?
FRANK ROGERS: When writing songs, I look for a guitar that doesn’t make me think too much about trying to play something. It needs to be an extension of what I’m trying to express.
In the studio, certain guitars sound great no matter what you’re doing, while others fit little sonic “spots.” For years, I didn’t get what people saw in a Gibson SG – lots of people love them and they’re cool, but it just didn’t have enough uses to make me want one… until I was doing a band that had a second electric guitar, and it was the exact sonic complement to the Les Paul on the other side. They all have their purposes in the recording world.
Your dad talks about being less concerned with the condition of a guitar. Given that your guitars are tools, can we assume something like a neck repair doesn’t matter to you as long as it sounds and plays right?
FRANK ROGERS: Doesn’t matter at all!
Are you the same way with amps?
FRANK ROGERS: Yes, if it sounds great, great! If it doesn’t, let’s figure out why or get another amp or guitar. Let’s search until we find the sound we’re looking for. I have an old AC30 head and I couldn’t tell you what tubes are in it. I couldn’t even tell you what year it is. I only know that when I plug a Tele into it, it sounds great – a Strat doesn’t sound as good.
(LEFT) Buzz Rogers loves the big humbucker sound of his ’62 Gibson ES-335. Photos: Benton Henry.
Speaking of, is there an artist who, when you first worked with them, had some less-than-stellar guitar tones?
FRANK ROGERS: Oh, absolutely – most of ’em (laughs)! Through the demo process and the first three or four records of Brad Paisley’s career, I wouldn’t let him use his own acoustic guitar – and to his credit, he didn’t want to! I gave him s**t about it all the time (laughs); “How are you gonna be a guitar hero playing a Takamine?” At the time, I had a good old [Gibson] J-45, a Kent Everett guitar, an old Martin, and my dad would let us borrow some of his. Brad has come a long way and now has some great acoustics. But we spent a lot of hours chasing tones. Most of the people I’ve worked with had to learn about tone. I’ve seen a lot of studio players in Nashville whose tone has improved dramatically through the years.
Brad Paisley talks about scoring his trademark ’68 Telecaster at the Arlington show. You and he used to go to that show with your dad, right?
FRANK ROGERS: Yes, for years we went together, and we’ve picked up several guitars and amps there. That’s where we met Kent Everett – one of those times when you’re walking down aisles, strumming guitars, and all of a sudden it’s like, “What’s this?” It blew my mind how great his guitars were. I got my J-45 at Arlington, and an old Tele I use as high-strung guitar.
BUZZ ROGERS: I used to give Brad a hard time about the Tele he had at Belmont! It had a clear pickguard with paisley paper under it! I kept telling him to get an original.
Buzz, when Frank was a teenager, you recognized he had penchant for songwriting…
BUZZ ROGERS: Yeah, he definitely had a gift for writing songs, and of course I wanted to encourage it. When he was in high school, I booked some time for him at a local studio to record some of his songs. Right away, the owner noticed that he had an easiness about himself in that environment. Several years later, he had been accepted to the College of Charleston, where he was planning to major in business and minor in music. In fact, we had paid a deposit on tuition…
But then there was a Butterfly Effect moment…
BUZZ ROGERS: Yeah, we went to the music store in Charlotte in early July to get him an electronic keyboard as a graduation gift, and we walked in just as the salesman was about to go to lunch. Well, he stayed to help us, and while doing so, we started talking. Turns out the guy had attended Belmont, and by the end of the discussion, the seed was planted. Five weeks later, Frank was on campus. We’ve talked a lot over the years about what would have happened if we’d so much as missed a stop light on the two-hour drive that day and ended up talking to with someone else at the store. Frank wrote a line in the chorus of the Darius Rucker song, “This,” which was a number one hit, that talks about missing a stop light. His life – and country music – wouldn’t be the same if we had that day.
Most parents don’t like pushing their children to a career in music, but I thought he had something special. He had the gift, he applied himself to get the education, he has the work ethic, and he caught a few breaks.
Frank, do you recall feeling at ease in that recording studio the first time?
FRANK ROGERS: Yeah, it seemed natural. And when I moved to Nashville, I loved being in a studio. Whatever I could do to be there, I would do it – whether they needed an engineer, a bass player, guitar player, background singer. The first time I ever sat at a B-3 organ happened when someone in the studio said, “Hey, do you play B-3?” I said, “Heck, yeah” and while they were getting sound on it, I pulled the draw bars, wondering to myself, “What do these do?” I totally faked it just to get in the studio because I loved the process. And no matter what my task was, by the end of the session, it seemed that I ended up kind of running it. I thought, “There’s a name for that… I’m a producer!” Even back in high school, I was never the greatest player, but I was the one arranging songs, picking out parts, and doing the set list. I got asked to play in a band because I knew a handful of chords – which was a lot for my hometown – but I remember taking two cassette recorders, playing a guitar part into one, playing it back, then playing a track into the other one while listening to the first track. I was always recording just to see what I could do.
You mentioned that certain songs caught your attention more than any certain players. Was that influence apparent in the way you learned to play guitar?
FRANK ROGERS: Yeah, as soon as picked it up, I remember hitting the E string, open first, then pressing down the first fret to make an F, pressing down on the third fret to make a G. Right away, I started writing a three-note song – literally the first time I picked up an electric guitar, I wrote a song. I wanted to create. I never really got excited about learning other people’s stuff.
Being a child of the ’80s, do you see yourself having played a role in country music becoming what some critics and music writers refer to as “Def Leppard Lite.”
FRANK ROGERS: I don’t think of myself as that important (laughs)! But I guess there are some records I’ve done that have probably influenced the scene one way or the other. More of my hits have probably swung the pendulum back to traditional rather than taking it toward Def Leppard. When Brad first came out, he was very much on the traditional side. Josh Turner, certainly – “Long Black Train” was not like anything else on the radio at the time. But, some of the Darius Rucker stuff is a little more pop, and I’ve done some Trace Adkins stuff that’s more rock, really. And “Whiskey Lullaby,” by Brad and Allison Krause, I’m sure influenced a few people who thought, “Oh, we can get away with a hardcore drinking ballad?”
Really, though, country music has become just “American” music – it’s not necessarily all country. There’s country music on country radio, there’s rock music on country radio, there’s folk music on country radio, there’s pop music. In a way, country has become the “pop” format – you hear Les Pauls and Marshalls and wah pedals and all that, but you also have drum loops and steel guitars and banjos, so it really is wide open, which I think is good.
I do know that influencing future records is never the goal. I record something that I would want to go buy. If I do something I hate, that’s not good for anybody (laughs)!
This article originally appeared in VG August 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
They were days, before Kent State, when everywhere you looked, kids sat under trees, singin’ songs and swappin’ licks. Fresh-faced young girls with names like “Star” painted flowers on their cheeks and drifted between you and the sun wearing diaphanous tie-dye gauze dresses. For a moment, you couldn’t remember the words of the song or hear the singing of the others above the pounding blood in your head. Someone had a copy of Wayfarin’ Stranger and everyone crowded around to see if they could make out the name on the headstock of Burl Ives’ guitar. Your roommate had a magnifying glass, so instead of a cluster of tiny blurred dots, you could see a cluster of big blurred dots. Then, one day, somebody told somebody who told a friend who told you that Ives played a Martin. It took every last dime you had, but you bought the 00-18 – and it sounded fantastic! Then everyone started talking model numbers and rosewood. Not wanting to be left out, you agreed, “Yeah, mahogany Martins are terrible!” and you sold yours to get a rosewood guitar, and it did project better and it was prettier – but deep inside, you knew there wasn’t a guitar on God’s green earth to compare with that 00-18 you once had and, in a moment of incredible stupidity, let go.
Here are two cool examples of the guitar that powered the folk movement on college campuses nationwide. On the bottom is serial number 162468, made in 1957 – a perfect example of this overlooked classic. Compare it with serial number 186490, on the top, made in ’62. As the “folk boom” hit, Martin increased production. Unfortunately, many of their templates were made of wood, and the constant scribing wore them out of true. Notice in particular the narrow, rounded headstock on the later guitar and also the loss of definition around the pickguard and bridge. Thankfully, John Huber took control of R&D in the mid ’60s and made new templates of metal, reintroducing the correct headstock and pickguard profiles.
This article originally appeared in Vintage Guitar Classics No. 1 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
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Metal Pedals’ Raw Hide, Hard Core XXX
Price: $175 (Raw Hide); $230 (Hard Core XXX)
Info: www.metalpedals.com.
For many discerning players, Dave Pantaleone at Metal Pedals is a well-known stompbox builder. His latest offerings are two distinctly different animals that offer pro-level sound and carry on with his established M.O. of solid construction, die-cast aluminum housings, top-notch attention to detail, and artwork depicting sexy pinup girls.
The Raw Hide is a straightforward overdrive, with controls for Volume, Tone, and Gain, and a mini-toggle that engages what Pantaleone calls “Kick,” which takes the pedal from a low-gain overdrive to a grittier distortion. Its design is basic – mono input and output jacks, Switchcraft footswitch, 9-volt barrel jack for the power supply, and its functionality is utilitarian and user-friendly.
In live and studio settings, the Raw Hide exhibited a nicely pronounced breakup and plenty of warmth in most settings. The voicing of its Tone knob was a welcome surprise – no matter where set, its sounds are musical and very usable. This relatively simple box is versatile enough that players from nearly any genre will find likeable tones.
The Hard Core XXX is the “evil twin” to the Raw Hide. Not about subtlety or being nice, it’s designed to rock, with plentiful gain and distortion at the ready. Its Gain control is voiced to suggest multiple gain stages and can go from raucous to searing in short order. With that kind of horsepower on tap, the Volume control is a big help in tailoring the crunch.
Two features set the Hard Core XXX apart from the crowd – a five-band EQ and a two-way Noise Reduction switch. Each knob in the EQ stack is voiced with guitarists in mind (though the pedal works surprisingly well on bass, too), but anyone who plays in notoriously muddy drop-D and drop-C tunings should check out the Hard Core, as it will greatly aid in fine-tuning low frequencies that can get away from you (heads up, you seven- and eight-string players!). With such a high degree of EQ control, the Hardcore’s tone is always musical, and does not detract from the guitar’s natural sonic properties.
We were impressed by both Metal Pedals offerings. In the often-pricey realm of boutique overdrives, they are reasonable, and provide mountains of tone.
This article originally appeared in VG January 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Okay, Zep police, sound the alarm and prepare to loose the hounds – we are finally about to lift the lid on the Jimmy Page amp. Well, maybe not the Jimmy Page amp, but almost certainly a Jimmy Page amp, and even this claim should be enough to get the keys clacking and the internet forums buzzing with the vitriolic denials of naysayers and Page obsessives who have already put their money on other Supros occasionally believed to have been the source of that sweet, addictive crunch on Led Zeppelin I and elsewhere. Sorry, but if the scant evidence points anywhere, it points here – given J.P.’s difficult-to-trace yet widely accepted past statements that it was a “small, blue Supro” and a “1×12 combo” – and we say that with the firm convictions of claim-stakers who understand deep down that there really is no knowing, and that we could be just as wrong as we hope we are right. Which is to say, totally.
So much for the furor, because ultimately it doesn’t matter anyway. Even if no name artist ever played through a sweet little mid-’60s Supro Model 24 like this one (even though he did), it’s still one of the hippest looking and coolest sounding 45-year-old tube combos on the planet. Right through the years of Fender’s seeming dominance of amp design in the U.S., Valco designed and manufactured a broad range of amps for re-branders such as Supro, Oahu, Gretsch, and Airline that totally disregarded the Fender standard. They all did their own thing, and did it very well. Components were largely of a slightly lesser standard, and cabinetry (which varied from brand to brand) was occasionally thinner and lighter-weight than that used by Fender and Gibson, but the circuit designs themselves are difficult to fault, and often took clever, original twists that today yield several truly stunning vintage-vibed voices that are quite different from the norm.
A look inside the chassis of the Model 24 reveals what, at first glance, looks like a rat’s nest of wiring strung out along a series of terminal strips. Look a little closer, though, and you’ll see fairly tidy workmanship, and a neat logic to the design. Valco managed to fit a simple yet extremely effective circuit into a confined space, and string together a series of stages out of the tube-design handbooks of the day that work together to pump out exemplary guitar tones.
1965 Supro Model 24. Photo: Michael Wright. Preamp tubes: three GE 12AX7. Output tubes: two GE 6973, cathode-bias, no negative feedback. Rectifier: 5Y3 Controls: Volume and Tone on each of two channels, tremolo Speed and Intensity. Speaker: Jensen Special Design C12Q. Output: approximately 18 watts RMS.
One of the surprises in here is the extensive use of ceramic disk coupling caps where you’d normally see larger, more robust axial (tubular) coupling caps in amps wearing more prominent brand names. The relatively low voltages found in several stages of the amp, however, allow such caps to thrive, while also giving the amp’s tone a thick, chocolatey, slightly gritty character you don’t hear elsewhere. At lower volumes this adds some body to the stew, and cranked up to crunch gives the Supro’s voice a meaty bite.
Another of what today’s marketing men might call the “unique selling points” of this amp is its pair of 6973 output tubes. We addressed these briefly while featuring a Valco-made 1963 Gretsch 6156 Playboy combo (February ’09 issue), but they’re worth revisiting here. This tube’s nine-pin layout and tall, narrow bottle leads plenty of people to make the assumption it “sounds like an EL84,” but that’s a long way from accurate. Even on paper – physical appearances aside – the 6973 is a very different tube, with maximum plate voltage ratings of around 440 volts DC compared to the EL84’s 350 volts, a different pin-out, and different bias requirements. The robustness of this tube implies you can get a little more juice out of it if you try, and that’s certainly the case. These tubes were favored by jukebox manufacturers of the ’50s and ’60s for their firm, bold response, although few (if any) guitar amps tapped them for all they were worth. In our Supro, they put out about 18 watts from well under 350 volts at the plates, and sound round, chunky, and, if slightly dark – crisply and pleasantly so. And how’s this for a 6973 vs. EL84 A/B test?
Curious about this tube after digging that little Gretsch 6156 a while back, we decided to try something funky; having just completed a home-brewed amp designed along the lines of a modified/slightly hot-rodded AC15 – a project that was sounding stellar just as it stood with its pair of EL84s – we decided to take a leap of faith and rewire and re-bias the output stage for 6973s. The result? The amp was instantly louder, chunkier, and just bigger-sounding, with firmer lows and a meaty, if not overcooked, midrange. Different tubes, different sound.
The Supro Model 24 is likewise capable of pumping out a surprising amount of volume for its size; anyone with a recently acquired original example that seems wimpy or anemic in that department should look to the tubes, filter caps, and/or speaker, and expect the amp, in good condition, to have a bolder voice than the average tweed Deluxe, for example, and its thin 5/8″ pine cab makes it extremely lively and resonant along with it.
Where some smaller Valcos carrying similar circuitry have scaled-back tremolos, governed by a “speed” knob only, and an extremely deep, choppy effect as a result, the Model 24 has both speed and intensity, and can be made to sound superb at a wide range of settings, from gentle pulse to swampy throb. Each of two similar channels carries an independent tone knob (the usual simple treble-bleed circuit, but effective), along with inputs marked “Treble” and “Bass.” Counterintuitive though it might seem, the Bass input sounds better for most guitar applications, tapping the full voice of the amp, while the Treble option is a bit thin and anemic.
And lest we ignore one superficial but significant factor… man, what a looker! Our featured example, courtesy of Elderly Instruments’ repair tech Steve Olson, is resplendent in Calypso Blue vinyl (which matched the finish on many Supro Super Seven guitars and other models). It was also available in red and, at other times, the more familiar gray. The single Jensen C12Q sounds just right with this amp, or you can Brit it up some and add a little volume and low end in the process with something like a Celestion G12H-30 or an Austin Speaker Works KTS-70 (be sure to box up the original for safe-keeping). Come to think of it, we wish Jimmy Page hadn’t played this amp. Then there would probably be more of them around, for less money, for the rest of us to snatch up.
Dave Hunter is an American musician and journalist who has worked in both Britain and the U.S. He’s a former editor of The Guitar Magazine (UK).
This article originally appeared in VG July 2010 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
When Eric Johnson came to prominence, he sounded like nothing anyone had ever heard before. He made a Strat sound like a violin, and transformed the Fuzz Face into an instrument of highbrow elegance. The press conjured images of a Texas guitarslinger weaned on Jimi Hendrix, Jeff Beck, and Chet Akins, but hearing him was a whole other thing. The introspective and mild-mannered guitarist’s influences fostered individuality, depth, and musicality. Today, his impact can be heard in the work of Eric Gales, Joe Bonamassa, and an entire generation of guitarists.
Beginning with the album Tones in ’86, Johnson continued to release one inspiring album after the next, turning traditional virtuoso guitar techniques into magic. He’s adept at playing blues, covering Simon and Garfunkel’s “April Come She Will,” Wes Montgomery, or juxtaposing Jerry Reed with Lenny Breau.
Europe Live is the culmination of an enviable body of work. Johnson displays growth and maturity, and the album glows with a sense of jazz. It was recorded at appearances in Amsterdam’s Melkweg, Die Kantine and Bochum Zeche in Germany, and New Morning in Paris. With no plans for the recording to be released (at the time), the band performs with ease and confidence.
“Intro” begins the set with its New York City fusion atmosphere and sumptuous guitar tones. Then it’s off to “Zenland” as Johnson serves up a taste of Austin, effortlessly switching from dirty blues, twang, and his miraculous ability to switch from crystal clean blackface Fender sounds to dirty Marshall and fuzz without a hitch. Velvet tones soar with warm richness, guiding us to the set’s first vocal performance.
The crashing chords of the semi-autobiographical “Austin” support strong idiosyncratic vocals supported by inspired arranging and transcendent groove. Bassist Chris Maresh and drummer Wayne Salzmann are a perfect blend of cohesive backup and space. The band shines on John Coltrane’s “Mr. PC” as the opportunity to stretch out spotlights the soloists in a jazz-rock environment.
Intimate and cozy, Johnson’s live tone has never sounded better. Old favorites “Manhattan,” “Zap,” and “Cliffs Of Dover” are performed with perfection and spontaneity. “Song For Life” displays exemplary acoustic fingerpicking prowess, but never at the expense of the song. The call and response of “Last House On The Block” benefit from hypnotic riffing, Johnson’s emotional vocal delivery, and supreme soloing. Dynamics and mercurial shifts in techniques are what mind-blowing extended jams are all about.
Europe Live is a perfect introduction for the uninitiated, and a must listen for fans. Along with the new composition “Evinrude Fever” and the re-imagined “Sun Reprise,” this collection documents sublime artistry, passion, and life-affirming joy. It’s a live masterpiece chronicling a brilliant guitarist sharing ebullient music.
This article originally appeared in VG‘s September ’14 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
3rd Power Solo Dream/Switchback amps
Price: $1,859 list/$1,149 street (EXL-1); $1,999 list/$1,409 street (EX-SS)
Info: www.dangelicoguitars.com.
Images of John D’Angelico crafting masterpieces in his Little Italy shop haunt guitar enthusiasts to this day, implying an era of lost glory. Happily, D’Angelico guitars, long inaccessible to average guitarists, are being revived and reinterpreted in a manner that the master himself might have appreciated: exquisite art deco-inspired designs made affordable yet suitable for the spectrum of players.
The new five-guitar Standard Series resurrects classic D’Angelico features, down to the brass headstock ornament. Two guitars in the Standard Series, the single-cutaway EXL-1 and EX-SS, ought to satisfy most players’ lust for D’Angelico. Stairstep tailpieces and pickguards, mother-of-pearl inlays, flamed maple, pediment headstocks, Grover Rotomatics with Imperial buttons, and multibound bodies – they’re all here. Both test models featured a Vintage Sunburst poly finish morphing to black on the edges and at the maple/walnut headstock and neck heel. (Natural finish is also available.) Pickups are by Kent Armstrong, longtime go-to maker for jazz guitarists.
The EXL-1 is a 17″ archtop measuring a comfortable 3″ deep with a 25.5″ scale. Laminated spruce tops the soundboard’s grand arch while highly flamed laminated maple decorates the back and sides. These timbers are affordable choices that also happen to be ideal for a warm, balanced electric response. Remember, John D’Angelico marketed the laminated G-7 model specifically for electric use. (The upscale D’Angelico Masterbuilt line offers solid timbers all around, at significantly higher cost.)
The EXL-1’s bridge and fingerboard are rosewood, and the floating humbucking pickup is wired through tone and volume controls mounted closely together on the beveled tortoise pickguard. The quality of workmanship is preternaturally flawless, more so than even many classic-era models. But does the sound match the looks?
The designers have coaxed an impressive acoustic response from the laminate top, which features parallel braces. With a set of .012-.054″ nickel roundwounds, a stiff pick produced gratifying volume for acoustic chord and single-note work. The setup was easygoing enough for pianistic fingerstyle, particularly satisfying when amplified at a solo jazz guitar gig. Warm but defined, single-note lines were balanced up and down the fingerboard, though the discerning ear might desire some pole-piece tweaking.
The EX-SS has a similar jazzbox vibe, but with crucial differences. The lightweight body is 15″ wide and 1.25″ deep. The scale length is 25″, and the headstock, dressed up like the EXL-1, is proportionately smaller. The top is capped with flamed maple, and an interior U-shaped sustain block supports the tune-o-matic-type bridge. Two humbuckers are top-mounted, with a selector switch and stylish tone and volume controls for each. The EX-SS has all the rich detail of the EXL-1 in tailpiece, engraved pearl, tortoise pickguard – the works. And neither guitar feels neck heavy, despite the expansive headstocks.
The EX-SS was shipped artfully set up with .010-.046″ strings, including an unwound G. The light strings had flexibility without feeling floppy, thanks to the neck/headstock angle and the extra string length resulting from the ornate tailpiece. There was enough acoustic sound to make unamplified solo practice viable. Through a tube amp, however, fat jazz electric sounds were dialed in with the neck pickup, the rhythm was funkified with the pickups blended, and a good cutting lead was achieved from the bridge pickup. Clarity balanced with warmth. An Ibanez Tube Screamer thrown into the mix resulted in serious volume with satisfying, controllable feedback. Jazz, blues, rock, and fusion players would be at home digging into this distinctive axe.
The affordable D’Angelico EXL-1 and EX-SS offer great playability and aural response, along with enough bling to make any guitar aficionado’s heart flutter. Plus, any guitarist taking to the bandstand with either model will likely earn a note of approbation from audience and bandmates… at least if his tux isn’t too badly wrinkled.
This article originally appeared in VG December 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Guitarist Alex Aguilar is a veteran player, former guitar-mag columnist, and today runs an effects company that recently released its first box, the Alairex H.A.L.O., an overdrive pedal designed to produce rich overdrive and multidimensional sounds.
H.A.L.O. is an acronym for Harmonic Amp-Like Overdrive, and the box is two analog ODs in one, with separate Gain and Level controls. Its left and right footswitches correspond to LEDs that indicate which channels are active.
Designed to run through a clean amp and be a fundamental component of a guitarist’s tonal footprint, the H.A.L.O. sports a three-way Shape toggle that controls distortion characteristics. The left position offers asymmetrical clipping and a darker overdrive/distortion, the middle position offers a clean boost, and the right position is a symmetrical clipping mode with brighter overdrive/distortion.
The Saturation toggle offers three post-gain options. The left position is on in both Gain 1 and Gain 2 settings, middle is off, and right is the on position for Gain 2 only. There are separate Gain and Level knobs for each channel and a Tone control that governs both circuits. The icing on the cake, however, is a tone-sculpting Bass knob that controls low-end, a Contour knob for the midrange, and a Presence knob that covers high-midrange frequencies.
Tested with Teles, Strats, combo amps, and high-gain heads, the H.A.L.O. offered a universe of clean boost, natural overdrive, and even-order harmonic distortion. Patient manipulation resulted in steroid-infused country leads or filthy heaviosity, all with a luminous sheen. The H.A.L.O. doesn’t do full-on metal, but it’ll push a high-gain amp over the cliff with upscale complexity and dynamic responsiveness.
Despite the number of knobs and switches, the H.A.L.O.’s functionality is easy to decipher and adds a luxurious quality to even the dullest amp. Both circuits offer rich crunchiness, but Gain 2 has more saturation and treble. Everything about the H.A.L.O. yields serious sustain and super-dynamic touch-sensitivity. It adapts to myriad musical styles and yields angelic harmonic overtones. It’s powered by a 9-volt battery or an external power supply of 9 or 18 volts DC.
The H.A.L.O. is an excellent tool for creating inspired variations in sag, dirt, or EQ-boosting to push blackfaces, tweeds, or dirty heads. It’s a solidly constructed effect that should live on your pedal board for years to come.
This article originally appeared in VG April 2014 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Popularized in film and television, Musicvox Spacerangers have drawn attention for their mondo lower horn and freakishly huge headstock. Purists turn up their noses, but countless others dig the Euro-cheapo aesthetic. Users have included country star Keith Urban, of all people, and the late jam-band bass hero Allen Woody.
The Spaceranger Guitar is a straight-ahead rock and roll axe with a triple-bound mahogany body and 243/4″-scale bound maple neck, 19-fret rosewood fingerboard with block pearloid inlays, humbuckers (in Gretsch-style housings), tune-o-matic tailpiece, three-way toggle, master volume and tone, and vintage Kluson-style tuners on that gi-normous headstock. Incidentally, the thought of tuning a Spaceranger with those pegs located on the butt-end of the headstock might cause some to scratch their heads, but it’s not as strange as it might seem. There’s considerable space between each tuner, making them easy to grab, and with the shorter Les Paul-like scale, they’re also easy to reach. It may take a few seconds to get oriented to the new layout, but after that, it’s as easy as pie. The only debit to the large headstock is a bit of neck-dive, but that can be remedied with a non-skid guitar strap.
Plugged in, the Spaceranger is an animal. It feels great in the hand – the neck and fingerboard are set up well with a low action and a thin profile as befitting the Spaceranger’s Asian origins. The bridge humbucker delivered plenty of heavy rock flashes, while the neck pickup was good for bluesier stuff. Even with the humbuckers, there’s a nice dash of Strat or P-90 quack in the middle position with both pickups on. This is very useful on a lot of ’60s cover tunes. The three-way toggle worked fine, though it was stuck a bit too snugly between the tone knob and cable jack.
The Bass HT takes the Spaceranger design to new stratospheres of retro cool. With a 30″ neck scale, the Bass HT is a very likeable instrument for the bassist looking for something different. In addition to a bevy of finishes, this four-string has a fully adjustable bass tune-o-matic bridge, vintage tuners, 20-fret rosewood fingerboard, bass humbuckers, block pearloid inlays, master volume and tone, and a three-position pickup switch.
Like its guitar battery mate, the Bass HT is a rockin’ electric, and it provides the kind of fun for which short-scale basses are famous. Both the bridge and neck humbuckers deliver big sound whether clean or with a little dirt dialed in. The middle position, however, sounds better on clean settings; otherwise, things can get a little muddy. For more Fender-y sounds, use the neck ’bucker and roll down the tone a bit. One thing that jumps out after playing the Bass HT for a while is that the short scale and fast set up are great for players more used to a guitar-scaled neck than, say, a long-scale Fender Precision. Similarly, it sounds good with both fingers and a pick, which is a more authentic form of ’60s bass-playing (playing electric bass with fingers didn’t become the norm until the ’70s).
In all, both the Spaceranger Guitar and Bass HT performed great, not to mention those knockout looks. Granted, the design is not for everyone, but if you like that campy retro vibe, the Spaceranger shape is a flat-out classic.
This article originally appeared in VG December 2013 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.
Okay, Zep police, sound the alarm and prepare to loose the hounds – we are finally about to lift the lid on the Jimmy Page amp. Well, maybe not the Jimmy Page amp, but almost certainly a Jimmy Page amp, and even this claim should be enough to get the keys clacking and the internet forums buzzing with the vitriolic denials of naysayers and Page obsessives who have already put their money on other Supros occasionally believed to have been the source of that sweet, addictive crunch on Led Zeppelin I and elsewhere. Sorry, but if the scant evidence points anywhere, it points here – given J.P.’s difficult-to-trace yet widely accepted past statements that it was a “small, blue Supro” and a “1×12 combo” – and we say that with the firm convictions of claim-stakers who understand deep down that there really is no knowing, and that we could be just as wrong as we hope we are right. Which is to say, totally.
