Buddy Guy has some 70 years of experience as a blues guitarist and has played his electric guitar on stages all over the world . From the two-string diddley bow he made as boy growing up in Louisiana to his first proper guitar — gifted to him by a stranger — to his rise in Chicago, where he was mentored by greats like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, B.B. King and Guitar Slim, Guy rose to become a signature blues artist in his own right.

Guy fortified his innate guitar talent with a wealth of knowledge and skills he gained over his formative years. He then passed it on to players like Eric Clapton, who saw Guy onstage in England in the mid 1960s and was moved to form his own blues trio, Cream. And while Guy announced his retirement from the road with his 2023 Damn Right Farewell Tour in 2023, his influence lives on in a new breed of guitarists. That includes players like Gary Clark Jr., John Mayer and Johnny Lang, who learned to play blues authentically by watching — and learning — from the master, who honed his craft with a Fender Stratocaster in his hands.

As for Guy, his blues expertise came the hard way. He's a self-taught player, with no formal training—except for a couple of lessons with a high school music teacher who, to Guy's chagrin, couldn't show him the things he really wanted to learn.

"I moved to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, to go to high school," he recalled to Guitar Player in our January 1999 issue. "And they had a music teacher there, and I thought, 'My God, I've got what I've always wanted. I'm gonna let this guy teach me how to play the guitar.'

"I went in, and the teacher showed me some scales, and I said, 'I don't wanna play that; I wanna play like this' — I had a Muddy Waters record and a John Lee Hooker record at the time. He looked at me and said, 'I can't teach you that.'

“So I said, 'Well, then I can't take a music class!'

“I was so excited by the way Muddy played the slide, how B.B. King squeezed the strings, and how Lightnin' Hopkins and T-Bone Walker played their things. I said, 'If they don't teach this in school, I've got to find it myself.'

"Nowadays," Guy continued, "young people have advantages that I didn't have. It wasn't until 20 or 30 years ago that you even saw blues written in music notation—they claimed they couldn't write it.”

One tremendous benefit that Guy did have — after moving to Chicago in 1957 — was seeing Chicago blues legends such as Muddy Waters, Wayne Bennett, Matt Murphy, and Earl Hooker when they were at the height of their powers.

But no matter what a musician's cultural advantages — or disadvantages — might be, Guy maintains that anyone with enough heart can play the blues.

"If you love the blues, you can play it. Every interview I've ever had, I get asked 'Can a white man play the blues?' I hate that question! It's a human being, man. If I had eight fingers on my left hand, then! would say, 'No, a white man probably can't play like me.'

“But these guys, man—the late Stevie Ray Vaughan, this young Jonny Lang, Eric Clapton, and Jeff Beck, to name a few — there's some things they do that I wish I had known.

"Look at athletes — boxers, football players, baseball players—they come in all sizes and all colors, and all those guys are great. Music is the same way. There's no advantage or disadvantage. If you want to learn this thing, man, and you love it the way I love it, you can do it."

Rush were progressive-rock pioneers, but beneath the layers of mind-boggling time signature changes and maze-like song structures, they were a blues band. And for guitarist Alex Lifeson, few blues guitarists captured his imagination like Rory Gallagher did.

Lifeson says Eric Clapton was another he’d obsess over in his early playing days, citing Slowhand's work on Cream's "Spoonful" as the first guitar solo he ever learned to play. Jimmy Page was another — Lifeson said “he was everything I hoped he would be,” when the pair finally crossed paths.

But Gallagher holds an extra special place in his heart.

Lifeson says he stumbled upon the Irish guitarist's work when Gallagher was in Taste, his pre-solo career outfit. He recalls being “really impressed” by what he heard.

“It was blues-based,” Lifeson tells the Gallagher's YouTube channel. “But he was in a lot of ways a great rock guitarist. He had so much energy in his playing; he wasn't a typical blues player.

“His style,” he adds, “was all of his own. It was a reflection of his soul, truly. And his vocals and guitar playing together made for this really, really special thing that very few people have.”

Before Rush were selling out arenas, they were cutting their teeth as a support act alongside heavy hitters like Aerosmith, Thin Lizzy, and — perhaps most strangely — Kiss.

The Canadian outfit released their debut record in March 1974, and by that fall were embarking on their first-ever tour as the opener on a three-band bill headlined by Gallagher.

“Playing with Rory was a real treat,” Lifeson reminisces. “In the fall of 1974, we were 20 years old — this was our first tour. It was exciting, but we didn't know our place. We were trying to stay in the background and be as polite as possible and not be a bunch of dicks basically.

“Right from the get-go, Rory and the band were so hospitable and accommodating,” he continues. “I would watch Rory every night and go back to the dressing room and just play. I was so inspired.

"Honest to god, his soul was just amazing. To see him close his eyes and lose himself in his guitar playing was truly remarkable. There's a purity to it.”

Fast forward six years and the tables had turned. The success of Moving Pictures' — today regarded as one of the greatest prog albums ever made — had catapulted Rush to the top of the bill. This time, Rory would support them.

“Things were really going gangbuster for us, and there was an offer of Rory to open for a tour, and we were absolutely all over it,” Lifeson says smiling. “That's when I really got to know him. We spent a lot of free time together. On a day off we would sit and talk for hours, and maybe drink a little bit too much.”

Family and politics became two bonding points. Gallagher spoke about growing up during the Troubles in Ireland, while Lifeson, of Yugoslavian heritage, saw parallels with the struggles his ancestors faced. Hearing this, Gallagher bought him a copy of Irish novelist Flann O'Brien's The Third Policeman.

“He said, ‘You've got to read this. He's a great satirist. It gives you an eye for that Irish humor!’ I read the book and I got back to him days later, I guess, and said I really enjoyed it.

“We had a bit of a break,” Lifeson continues. “He went back to Ireland and then came back to North America and bought me the whole series of books.

“It wasn't just about the music. He was so thoughtful and considerate to other people. He was such a wonderful person. Never mind his talents and skills, he was just a really great man”

Lifeson drew influence from Gallagher “from a very early time,” and says he was “honored” to have spent two tours with his idol. That first tour, in 1974, proved particularly fruitful for a young Lifeson, during which he learned one key trick from Gallagher that was subsequently heard all over Rush's extensive back catalog.

“He had this way of getting harmonics from a guitar pick by just picking in a certain way and I'd never heard anyone do that ever. I heard it all over his stuff,” he reflects. “And I thought, Wow, what an effective thing to do. I employ the little trick in all my stuff all the time, and I learned it directly from him.”

While Lifeson doesn't elaborate on this point, Gallagher's technique was pinch harmonics, a picking style which Leslie West, as he revealed to Guitar Player in 1972.

Gallagher passed in 1995 and his gear had been under the charge of his family, who loaned it to museums and musicians, up until last year. There was outrage at first when the Gallgher family announced the sale of his iconic, time-beat ‘61 Stratocaster, with campaigns launched to keep it in Ireland as a symbol of the country’s cultural heritage.

It sold for a staggering $1.16 million and was then donated to the National Museum of Ireland, where it is expected to remain.

The Irish blues icon was honored with a statue in Belfast, Northern Ireland earlier this year. However, one key detail appeared to be wrong.

Meanwhile, Alex Lifeson is busy with his Lerxst gear brand. He recently reissued his famous Hentor Sportcaster as the Grace. In April, he will also release his second album with his new band Envy of None.

Think you’ve heard the most jaw-dropping hardcore blues solos of all time? We don’t think you have until you’ve heard every solo on this list of what we consider the 50 greatest badass blues guitar solos of all time.

Let’s face it: Thousands up thousands of great blues solos have been played on the electric guitar, so you can imagine how daunting it was for us to narrow our selection down to just 50. For starters, we siphoned off more than a dozen artists and solos that have already been so widely celebrated that they hardly need additional mention. After all, who isn't already hip to Clapton's extraordinary solo on "Crossroads" or Jimi's on "Red House"?

We also excluded a few legendary players who were renowned for their acoustic guitar solos, but did little of note once they switched to electric, such as Tampa Red, along with several well-known guitarists that played fantastic electric blues, but didn't really take solos, like John Lee Hooker. And early on we decided not to include seminal acoustic blues players like Robert Johnson, Son House and Blind Willie Johnson, both because their numbers are too great, and because in most cases they played unaccompanied, and therefore didn't "solo" in the same sense as the artists on our list.

After fighting over which guitarists should be included, GP editors Matt Blackett, Art Thompson and Barry Cleveland enlisted additional aid from four blues-savvy contributors — Teja Gerken, Jimmy Leslie, Adam Levy and Michael Ross — and each member of the team was tasked with choosing the particular solo they wanted to spotlight. Whether you hail us as brilliant or bash us as bums, we at least hope that you'll dig reading this as much as we did writing it.

"Ohio" — Dan Auerbach (Black Keys)

Black Keys frontman Dan Auerbach is never flashy, but he's naturally poignant, and the fuzz freak is largely responsible for the past decade's dirty blues resurgence. Auerbach eschews prominent guitar breaks, and almost never strays past the pentatonic box. "I'm not much of a solo guy," he told GP in his February 2012 feature. But I do love 'rips." Auerbach really rips near the end of the single "Ohio," which was released independently from 2010's Brothers. The Akron native's vibrato quivers like the shivers of a cold Midwestern winter. Auerbach eventually engages a wah, induces feedback, and then climbs up the fretboard with flurries of tremolo picking until he reaches a dramatic climax. —J.L.

"Deep Feeling" — Chuck Berry

Even though he recorded for Chess records, home of Muddy Waters and Howling Wolf, Charles Berry is not known as a blues guitarist but rather as one of the inventors of rock and roll. Nevertheless, this instrumental, released as the B-side to "School Day (Ring! Ring! Goes the Bell)," is a straight 12-bar blues. Well, maybe not completely straight, as Chuck throws in a V chord where you don't expect it, and, oh yeah, he performed it on an unusual pedal-steel guitar — thought to be a Gibson Electraharp. The country- style string bends might have been played by anyone, but the wolf-whistle slides are pure Berry. —M.R.

"Stormy Monday" — Dickey Betts (The Allman Brothers Band)

Half of one of the greatest guitar teams of all time, Richard Betts' job description involved going toe-to-toe with the genius of Duane Allman night after night. At Fillmore East, on an evening recorded for posterity, he had the unenviable task of following Duane's incendiary solo on the blues chestnut "Stormy Monday." After Duane comes Greg Allman's jazz waltz organ solo. As the band breaks it down from there, Betts begins his sliding, squeezing and screaming licks that build into a masterpiece of soul, lyricism, intonation and tone that give away nothing to his legendary partner. —M.R.

"Red Dog Speaks" — Elvin Bishop

How about some greasy slide playing over a slow blues in E? That's exactly what Elvin Bishop dishes up on "Red Dog Speaks" (from the album of the same title) and as a bonus, he describes his ax (Red Dog) in the song's lyrics. Want to hear a 1959 Gibson ES-345 Stereo really wail? Wait for Bishop to say, "Speak, Red Dog," and hang tight, as he unleashes a soulful solo that combines fretted notes and fluid slide playing in a relaxed, in-the-pocket manner that puts style and class ahead of showboating. —T.G.

"Albert's Shuffle" — Mike Bloomfield (Mike Bloomfield, Al Kooper & Stephen Stills)

When Michael Bloomfield appeared on the scene with the Paul Butterfield Blues Band in 1964 no one had ever heard guitar playing quite like that, nor did any previous blues album have a printed exhortation to "play this record loud." Indeed, Bloomfield's excitable, ahead-of-the-beat soloing had more to do with rock energy than blues mystery. It wasn't until 1968's Super Session, featuring Bloomfield with Al Kooper and Steven Stills, that Bloomfield settled into this pocket of more traditional blues playing, while retaining the desperate energy that set him apart from the traditionalists, and gave him his distinctive voice in the first place. —M.R.

"Blues Deluxe" — Joe Bonamassa

Bonamassa began his professional career when many lads are being Bar Mitzvahed. His early blues work was that of an impressionist: his solo on "Long Distance Blues" from 2003's Blues Deluxe is Joe doing Eric Clapton. In the decade since, Bonamassa has melded his influences and made them his own, honing a style of diamond precision playing and to-die-for tone. This slow blues from Jeff Beck's first solo record (itself a cover of B.B. King's "Gambler Blues") starts off with three minutes and 50 seconds of soloing that take you from B.B., through Clapton and Eric Johnson, all inflected with a heavy dose of Bonamassa. — M.R.

"Cry" — Doyle Bramhall II

If ever there was a guy to get a handle on the SRV attitude and fire without copping Stevie's licks, it's Doyle Bramhall II. On this slow 12/8 number, Bramhall gets all kinds of righteous Strat tones, including spooky tremolo, clanging semi cleans and a positively massive exploding-amp lead tone. He does a killer, thematic break mid-tune but saves his best stuff for the end of the song. For the outro solo, he coaxes awesome, howling feedback before leaning into his powerful bends that are jam-packed with emotion. His note choices and phrasing as fresh as always, due in part to playing lefty-strung righty, but Bramhall's super-deep pocket might be his greatest asset. —M.B.

"Okle Dokie Stomp" — Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown

You can hear echoes of the big-band era in Brown's recordings from the 1940s and early '50s. It's in the instrumentation— with an ensemble of horns, upright bass, and a drummer driving spang-a-lang on his ride cymbal. Rock-and-roll was about to happen, but hadn't quite. Music from this in-between period is sometimes called "jump blues," and Brown's instrumental "Okie Dolde Stomp" is a first-rate example. T- Bone Walker's influence is apparent here, particularly in a lick that Brown repeats: an up-bent 4 on the third string followed immediately by a 5 on the second string. Still, Gate had his own thing, and it's a whole lot of fun to listen to. —A.L.

"John's Blues" — Roy Buchanan

In 1971 PBS aired a documentary: Introducing Roy Buchanan a.k.a. The World's Greatest Unknown Guitarist, and the world's perception of what a Fender Telecaster could do was forever changed. Buchanan wrenched human cries and animal squeals out of this dead simple guitar design. His style of blues melded James Burton's chicken pickin' with Albert King's expressive bends, definitively illustrating the deep connection between country and blues. It is all here in "John's Blues" from his first record. This is the guitar tone and technique that inspired Danny Gatton, Gary Moore and Jim Campilongo, as well as causing Jeff Beck to dedicate "Cause We've Ended As Lovers" to Buchanan. — M.R.

"When My Train Pulls In" — Gary Clark Jr.

The second flight on the second track from buzz bluesman Gary Clark Jr.'s diverse major-label debut, Blak and Blu, is a gnarly fuzz/ wah solo that kicks off hissing. "We recorded that track first and cut it live in one take," the Epiphone Casino enthusiast revealed in his January 2013 GP cover feature. "I had my Fender Vibro-King, and stomped on all of my pedals for that solo." It peaks when Clark launches into a Chuck Berry–like lick at the 12th fret, and then starts incorporating the G at the 15th fret and the F# at the 14th fret on the high E string. "I'd been experimenting in that range," Clark revealed. "I played that lick over and over to build momentum. We were eager to prove ourselves, and there was an overwhelming sense of 'Let's go for it!’ “ — J.L.

"Feelin' Bad Blues" — Ry Cooder

In interviews over the years, slide guru Cooder has shared some juicy details about his hot-rodded guitars and unusual rigs. It's tempting to tag a particular pickup, compressor or amp when trying to pinpoint the source of his mystical sound, but let's face it — it's a touch thing. That's most apparent in his nakedest recordings, like this laid-back guitar-and-dolceola duet from the Crossroads soundtrack. Cooder has always shunned picks, and this cut shows just how adept he is with his bare hand. Working in open-D tuning, Cooder blurs the line between rhythm and lead. You may be inspired to take up a bottleneck and start practicing — or quit altogether. —A.L.

"Chicken in the Kitchen" — Robert Cray

Though he owes much of his success to a fairly slick, mainstream crossover sound, Robert Cray can play no-holds-barred blues with the best of them. Recorded live, "Chicken in the Kitchen" (on Cookin' in Mobile) not only features some of the most beautiful, sparkly, out-of-phase Strat tone you'll ever hear, it also has not one but two great solos. Number two, especially, is full of incredibly cohesive lines with blindsiding surprises, occasionally getting close enough to the edge that you start worrying whether Cray will make it out alive. —T.G.

"Shake 'Em on Down" — Luther Dickinson (North Mississippi Allstars)

The North Mississippi Allstars lived up to their name when they brought tribal elders R.L. Burnside, Jim Dickinson, and the whole neighborhood to Bonnaroo in 2004, where they documented history in progress. Luther Dickinson pays homage to the past while dragging classic Hill Country blues kicking and screaming into the present via groovy Gibsons, mighty Marshalls, and occasional echo and other effects. He does it to death with a Les Paul in open D on Fred McDowell's "Shake 'Em on Down," which kicks off Hill Country Revue as wickedly as it did the Allstars' debut CD, and, in turn, their career. When Dickinson lays a slide to the treble strings while thumbpicking the bass strings and incorporating optimal open ones, he brings the honeysuckle sweet and the dirty primitive together in glorious harmony. —A.L.

"Blues After Hours" — Hollywood Fats

Fats is one of the more obscure players on our list, but if you've got an appetite for the blues then you really need to put some Fats in your diet. His style was somehow brash and classy all at once. Most frequently seen wielding an ES-335, he was an itinerant sideman who did stints with the Blasters, Muddy Waters and Canned Heat. For raw blues power, though, it's hard to beat his playing with his own Hollywood Fats Band. On the sultry "Blues After Hours" (from Deep on America / Larger Than Life, Vol. 2), he delivers a textbook example of how to build a solo from a humble beginning to a searing climax, and then how to wind it back down for the subsequent vocal verse. —A.L.

"Prison of Love" — Robben Ford

The word "uptown" is sometimes used to describe blues with more jazz-inspired harmonies — chords beyond the common I, IV, and V. Ford can take the blues farther uptown than just about anybody, as this minor-key shuffle from his 1992 record Robben Ford & the Blue Line illustrates so colorfully. He stays in familiar pentatonic territory for the first four bars, and then shades his phrases with canny chromaticism in the next four. He plays even more ear-tweaking lines in the next few measures before taking the express train back downtown for a gritty finish. —A.L.

"The Change in Me" — Eric Gales

Based on a riff that borrows heavily from ZZ Top's "La Grange," Eric Gales' "The Change in Me" is a hard-driving rocker of a tune, and Gales plays highly melodic fills to provide a dynamic counterpoint to the crunchy theme. Demonstrated by several YouTube clips of the song, Gales varies the actual solo considerably from one night to the next, often employing a modern-sounding, delay-drenched high-gain tone and a great ability to allow the solo to alternately breathe and burn. —T.G.

"Bullfrog Blues" — Rory Gallagher

It's no easy task to choose a favorite Rory Gallagher blues solo, but his slide work on "Bullfrog Blues" is a serious contender. Leaving his trademark Strat behind (several YouTube videos show him playing a Gretsch Corvette), Gallagher gets to work in open-A tuning, with a capo on the second fret. The solo itself uses licks in the I, IV and V chord positions at the fifth, seventh and 12th frets, and it isn't unlike Gallagher's acoustic bottleneck work, though a ferocious amount of gain yields one of the meanest electric slide tones that you'll ever encounter. —T.G.

"Please Send Me Someone to Love" — Amos Garrett

In 1974, Amos Garrett's solo on Maria Muldaur's "Midnight at the Oasis" was all over the AM airwaves. It gobsmacked guitarists worldwide with its triple-string bends and unusual phrasing — but the previous year Garrett had already blown minds with his spectacular solo on this Percy Mayfield classic. The Canadian guitarist navigates the changes more like Benny Carter than Albert King. His trademark double-stop bends and large-interval, two-string pull-offs, facilitated by his huge hands, are nothing short of astonishing. The two choruses here are perfectly constructed, and were, in fact, composed. To improvise something this flawless would be superhuman. — M.R.

"Blues Newburg" — Danny Gatton

Danny Gatton had such a great grasp of country, jazz, rockabilly and blues that it's tough to pin down when he was at his bluesiest, but this tour de force is as good a place as any to start. It's got only about one percent of what the guy was capable of, and that means excellent bends on the high and low strings, amazing single-note and chord melody, wicked vibrato, faux pedal-steel licks, blazing runs, breakneck chromatic passages, volume swells, and lots, lots more — all played with impeccable time. Boy, do we miss this guy! —M.B.

"Sure Got Cold After the Rain Fell" — Billy Gibbons (ZZ Top)

Billy G. is one of the finest blues players around, but ZZ Top's boogie-oriented repertoire tends to overshadow a tune like this slow-burn gem from the 1972 album, Rio Grande Mud. The song isn't in the classic 12-bar mold, but Gibbons decorates the 12/8 groove as if it were. Deploying a moderately distorted tone for the licks he plays over a clean arpeggiated rhythm figure, Gibbons shows his usual mastery of note choice and placement, building his solo to create maximum emotion during the song's extended outro. — A.T.

"The Blue" — David Gilmour

You could say David Gilmour has never played anything that wasn't the blues — after all, Pink Floyd was named for blues musicians Pink Anderson and Floyd Council. Gilmour's tone and vibrato have always been touchstones of the modern electric blues sound. Though he played a number of awesome solos with Pink Floyd, "The Blue," from his own 2006 record, Islands, deserves mention for several reasons. Reminiscent of Fleetwood Mac's "Albatross," the solo quickly pushes the envelope with evocative whammy pedal work, which continues throughout, seamlessly woven into classic Gilmour licks delivered with the gorgeous tone and pocket that make him a guitar legend. —M.R.

"Lonesome Dave" — David Grissom

Already astounding when he made the classic Live at Liberty Lunch with Joe Ely in 1990, Grissom has refined his style through the years in stints with Storyville (featuring the SRV rhythm section) and the Dixie Chicks. It is all there in "Lonesome Dave," from his first solo record: the Danny Gatton organ pedal point, the pedal-steel licks (Grissom taught himself to do B-Bender licks without a B-Bender), and the ZZ Top grind. Imagine Bluesbreakers Clapton and Billy Gibbons meet Brent Mason and Albert Lee and you get the idea. Throughout, Grissom's innate taste and musicality let him be jaw dropping without being flashy. —M.R.

"How Blue Can You Get" — Jeff Healey

Healey's blindness and unconventional playing style never hindered his ability to turn in amazing guitar performances, one of many being "How Blue Can You Get" from his posthumous 2008 release, Mess of Blues. Healey burns white hot here, pulling off wickedly fast lines and dramatic bends that defy the physical realities of holding a guitar flat on his lap. And if that's not enough, visit YouTube to also see what a gifted jazz trumpeter Healey was. What an incredible musician! —A.T.

"Blue Guitar" — Earl Hooker

Earl Zebedee Hooker, first cousin to John Lee, recorded this instrumental on May 3, 1961, and It was released the following year. A short time later, Muddy Waters overdubbed vocals onto the track, renamed it "You Shook Me," and released it under his own name. Now a blues staple — covered famously by Page and Beck among many others — Hooker played his immortal slide licks in standard tuning, which was novel for a Chicago blues guitarist at the time. He went on to experiment with echo, wah and other effects, attracting the attention of Jimi Hendrix for one, but this early recording, sans Muddy, showcases one of the most original stylists of all time. —B.C.

"It Hurts Me Too" — Elmore James

No doubt, "Dust My Broom" is slide guitarist James' signature song, but there's so much more mojo to be found in his cover of Tampa Red's "It Hurts Me Too,” if only for his sound. (You can bet your best bottleneck that Ry Cooder has listened to this recording more than a few times.) James takes full advantage of this throaty tone, letting his notes speak in vocal-like phrases. Whatever there is to say in open-D tuning, James says it here, with astounding character and confidence. Blues doesn't get much bluer than this. —A.L.

"Texas" — Eric Johnson

This session for Johnson's 2010 sonically superior release Up Close features guests Jimmie Vaughan and Steve Miller (vocals), who dropped by his studio and inspired him to rise to the occasion. The famously fickle and laborious Strat cat played a '59 Les Paul Standard dubbed "Buddy" through a Fuzz Face and a 100-watt Marshall on the solo—a first-take monster in the moment. Brandishing a sizzling tone and feeding off of Miller's vocal setup, Johnson's searing first solo soars to the heavens. Perfectly timed major thirds sound surprisingly blue, and EJ incorporates just enough diminished and chromatic runs to add spice without pushing too far beyond the boundaries of the blues. —J.L.

"Playing Around" — Lonnie Johnson

Alonzo "Lonnie" Johnson is best known to guitarists for his groundbreaking acoustic six- and 12-string work in the late '20s, including his celebrated duets with jazz guitarist Eddie Lang in 1929, and his 1927 recording "6/88 Glide," featuring what is now widely considered to be the first flatpicked single-note guitar solo. But Johnson's career continued for decades after that, and in 1947 he began playing electric. You'll find great electric solos scattered throughout his subsequent tunes, but the brief but rocking romp on 1949's "Playing Around" notably foreshadows moves that early rockers such as Eddie Cochran, Cliff Gallup and Scotty Moore will explore a few years later. —B.C.

"Born into This" — Wilson T. King

"I was listening to Eddie Hazel on 'Super Stupid' and Jimi's Band of Gypsys when I recorded this," Wilson T. King says, "and I wanted a future blues style of real whiplash out of the bends and tones." Well, he got it, while wielding a '69 Strat with DiMarzio Fast Track pickups played through an early '80s Marshall 2104 2x12 combo cranked way up, and using only his fingers. King is known for pushing the blues envelope in new directions, and this particularly passionate example of that predilection would, no doubt, elicit a big grin from Jimi. —B.C.

"Chief's Blues" — Greg Koch

Although he's known for his monstrous chops, Greg Koch displays tasty restraint for most of this slow blues, and the results are simply delicious. Much as the native people did with the mighty buffalo, Koch uses every part of the scale on these amazing seven minutes, blending major, minor and chromatic lines brilliantly over the changes and milking several notes out of every bend. It's hard to pick the coolest part, but a strong contender would have to be his jarring, pre-bent, triple-stop descending groans. This solo has it all: space, dynamics, humor, sensitivity and bombast, with damn near every lick being of the "must steal" variety. Yes sir! —M.B.

"Wind In Denver" — Sonny Landreth

Louisiana's singular slideman delivers a pinnacle performance on this track that only appears officially on his landmark live recording released in 2005, Grant Street. He tells GP that he achieved the gargantuan stereo tone playing a '66 Strat in open D minor tuning (D, A, D, F, A, D, low to high) through a Matchless HD30 with a 2x12 onstage and a 100-watt Dumble Overdrive Special pushing a 2x12 located offstage in a former freezer storeroom for maximum ambiance. "I was going for that wonderful 'Voodoo Child' vibe that still gets me every time I hear it," Landreth says. Sonny probably has the most evolved technique in slide blues history, and on "Wind in Denver" he delivers a host of hallmarks such fretting notes behind the slide and coaxing heavenly harmonics with a level of unbridled moxy that makes the solo truly monumental. —J.L.

"A Quitter Never Wins" — Jonny Lang

The baddest blues showcase on then teen sensation Jonny Lang's 1997 major-label debut, Lie to Me, is still his showstopper on 2010's Live at the Ryman. In his July 2010 feature he told GP that Albert Collins inspired him to become a Tele player, and Tab Benoit inspired him further. "When I heard his tone I freaked out — the Thinline Tele with humbuckers became the staple for me after that," he said. GP relayed that Lang eventually placed a P90 pickup between the two humbuckers, and he features the classic single-coil during the fiery intro and first solo on Tinsley Ellis' tune at the Ryman. He cuts into the second solo with sheer reckless abandon. —J.L.

"I'm Going Home" — Alvin Lee (Ten Years After)

It's hard to think of Alvin Lee without taking note of his solo in Ten Years After's "I'm Going Home." The band first recorded the song on its 1968 release Undead, and it upped the fast shuffle's octane level during its performance at the Woodstock festival. Playing his iconic "Big Red" 1959 Gibson ES-335, Lee takes the unusual step to start his solo accompanied only by drums for a full 24 bars, playing without the comfort of harmonic guidance from the band. He then proceeds to play one of the most blistering and fluid, Chuck Berry–influenced solos you'll ever come across. —T.G.

"Out of My Mind" — John Mayer

Regardless of whether or not you're into John Mayer's songwriting or vocal style, it's hard to argue with the fact that the guy has chops. Sure, he may not be the most original player to come along, but whether on acoustic, electric, lead or rhythm guitar, he is clearly in command. Eschewing the slick production found on much of his work, Mayer takes a decidedly more raw approach on the live recording of "Out of My Mind" (on Try!), giving his ES-335 a pentatonic workout with great vibrato, slightly overdriven, fat tone, and an excellent climax before resuming his vocal duties. —T.G.

"Still Got the Blues" — Gary Moore

Moore emerged from early British fusion and then spent his career alternating between turning out hard rock and blues records. It would be easy to go with any of his incendiary solos on a straight blues tune, or one of his letter-perfect recreations of Peter Green on Blues for Greeny, but "Still Got the Blues" is pure Moore. Okay, this cycle of fifths progression is not "the blues" per se, but its sharp-five-to-five resolution is blues approved. More importantly, the yearning in the gorgeous melody that Moore milks on the final solo, before tearing the roof of the sucker, is what the blues is all about. —M.R.

"Steroids" — Oz Noy

Oz Noy can get so far outside so quickly that it's easy to think that what he plays is not blues. Despite the funk and fusion elements that he throws in here, the fact is he's playing wild, vibey, blues-on-acid on this tune. We could all add a heaping helping of freshness to our 12-bar playing if we adopted one iota of Noy's phrasing, note choices, or fearlessness that are so abundant on this song. —M.B.

"Three Time Loser" — Bonnie Raitt

While blues and contemporary pop are not always an easy coupling, Raitt has been interlacing the two for decades now with consistently cool results. This track from her 1977 album, Sweet Forgiveness, is a high-water mark. The chord progression here has nothing to do with the customary 12-bar form, but Raitt's supernatural slide work infuses the song with deep blues feeling. Nobody else can make a quarter-tone glissando sound so expansive, and her overdriven Strat tone burns the way whiskey does going down your gullet. Listen close to hear her widen her vibrato and pluck harmonics in the final ride out. Pure swagger. —AL

"Greasy Kid Stuff" — Kid Ramos

Known for his explosive lead work on a Tele or Strat, and the ballsy sound he gets from a Vox AC30 with a stand-alone reverb, Kid Ramos has played with the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Roomful of Blues, James Hannan, and the Mannish Boys. He has also recorded several solo albums, including 2001's Greasy Kid Stuff, where he makes the instrumental title track jump with his fierce attack and fat tone. Check out YouTube to see Ramos tearing it up in a variety of situations, including on a baritone Tele with Los Fabulocos on "Burnin' the Chicken." —AT

"It's My Own Fault" — Otis Rush

Rush takes three solos on this track from the 1967 album Chicago/The Blues/Today!, Vol. 2. His first, in the song's intro, is amazing from the get-go, not because it's a display of guitar fireworks, but precisely because it's not. Phrase by phrase, Rush uses his Epiphone Riviera to masterfully tell a story here. After a couple of vocal verses, he ventures higher up the neck, ramping the thrill factor. His final break is just four stop-time measures to set up the saxophonist's solo, with a staggering impact-to-bar ratio. Rush was a southpaw who played his righty-strung guitar upside down, with the high E on top. This gives his bends an unusual sound because he's pushing the strings where most guitarists would pull, and vice versa. —A.L.

"Blues for Salvador" — Carlos Santana

Santana may not be though of as a blues player per se, and "Blues for Salvador," the title track of his 1987 solo album isn't a standard blues form. But by playing nearly six continuous minutes of intensely bluesy melodic work Santana laid down a masterpiece that helped him win a Grammy in 1989 for "Best Rock Instrumental Performance." Robben Ford later covered the song, and Santana has played it in concert with Buddy Guy, the Wayne Shorter Group and Mexican guitar star Javier Batiz. —A.T.

"Blue on Black" — Kenny Wayne Shepherd

When Louisiana native Kenny Wayne Shepherd broke big while still a teenager in the mid '90s, he was heralded as the next Stevie Ray Vaughan. Of course, nobody is ever the next SRV, but Shepherd's highly rhythmic Southern Strat histrionics clearly owe a debt to Austin's patron guitar player. And like SRV, KWS has a knack for turning stock blues licks into memorable, melodic moments via clever phrasing. You know a player — especially a bluesman — believes he's made a statement when he sticks close to the recorded version of a solo onstage night after night, year after year. "Blue on Black" is case in point. It's hook-laden licks get under your skin and stick in your brain whether it's the original version on 1997's Trouble or 2010's Live! In Chicago. —J.L.

"Three Hundred Pounds of Joy” — Hubert Sumlin

Released as a single on the Chicago-based Chess label in 1963 — with Howlin' Wolf leading the session — this is Sumlin's nonpareil. He plays teasing fills at the top of each verse, with an assured attack and shuddering vibrato, finally launching into his solo midway through the song. He begins with an unusual high-E string bend from the minor 3 up to the 4, falls a few steps back down the minor-pentatonic scale, then repeats the phrase twice more with slight variations. It's a spunky start, and he never relents. In a genre where clichés are an easy pitfall, this is one of the most unique solos ever rendered on a popular recording. —A.L.

"Wild About You Baby" — Hound Dog Taylor

Famously called “the Ramones of the blues" by The Village Voice, Hound Dog Taylor and his band the House Rockers played a ferociously raw kind of boogie blues. Based on the familiar "Dust My Broom" slide riff, "Wild About You Baby" (from Hound Dog Taylor and the House Rockers) is all about a game of call-and-response between the vocals and the guitar. When the time comes for Taylor to solo, he doesn't stray far from the main riff, and his note choices are perfect examples of a solo taking the place of a vocal line. —T.G.

"Slow Blues" — Mick Taylor

Released on Mick Taylor's self-titled post–Rolling Stones solo album, "Slow Blues" is a study in how to avoid mere noodling while essentially blowing for the entire duration of an instrumental track. The fact that "Slow Blues" uses a very cool, modified 12-bar progression with a distinctive bass line and chorused-sounding 13th chords taking the place of an actual melody certainly helps in keeping the tune engaging, but Taylor's throaty, reverb-drenched tone and dynamic playing keep the tune moving forward in a way that is not to be taken for granted in such an extended solo exploration. —T.G.

"Jesus Is Everywhere" — Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Tharpe may not have considered herself a blues artist, favoring gospel songs as she did throughout her career. But when you listen to her live 1964 recording of "Jesus Is Everywhere" — from The Authorized Sister Rosetta Tharpe Collection —the gap between sacred and secular doesn't seem so wide. Armed with a thumbpick, and backed by a bassist and drummer who sound like two thirds of the best rockabilly trio you've ever heard, Tharpe digs in hard on her early '60s SG-style Les Paul Custom. The first half of her solo is relatively straightforward, but when she starts swerving and swooping you'll wonder which way is up. Glory, glory! —A.L.

"Whisky Train" — Robin Tower (Procol Harum)

Like Hendrix, to whom he is overly, if not unfairly, compared, Robin Trower's blues roots run deep. Fifty years into his solo career, he still makes records worth listening to, these days filled with more classic blues tunes than ever. Still, the best example of his rooted playing might be "Whisky Train," a tune he wrote for Procol Harum's fourth album. The song could be considered one long cowbell-driven guitar solo, with Trower riding one of the great guitar riffs over and over, occasionally answering brief Gary Booker vocal sections with short modern blues excursions that preview his style as a solo artist. —M.R.

"I Know" — Derek Trucks (The Derek Trucks Band)

"Nearly everything I do on guitar has a foundation in blues music," says freak of nature Derek Trucks who primarily plays a Gibson SG tuned to open E with a large Dunlop Pyrex slide through a cranked Fender Super Reverb to conjure his signature, liquid fire tone. The way Trucks furthers Duane Allman's electric bottleneck style via Eastern-influenced microtones is mesmerizing. The Derek Trucks Band's 2010 release, Roadsongs, is a supreme document. His "Key to the Highway" solo reaches the highest zenith, but "I Know" is extraordinarily interesting as it progresses from droning raga into a swinging R&B feelgood number with one of the most musical, uplifting major-2 blues solos ever recorded. —J.L.

"Miracles & Demons (Part 2)" — Eddie Turner

A master at creating spooky atmospherics — such as those infusing several Otis Taylor records — Turner is also a funky and hard-rocking psychedelic bluesman in the Hendrix tradition, as evidenced on this track. Rooted in a repeating 6/8 figure played on dual resonators, with Turner's haunting vocals and wicked, wah-inflected, heavily echoed solo intertwining throughout, the tune showcases his ability to simultaneously wail and conjure uncanny sonics via Custom Shop Strats, a '59 tweed Deluxe, a Budda Twinmaster, a Roland RE-301 tape echo and other magical implements. —B.C.

"Tuff Enuff” — Jimmie Vaughan (The Fabulous Thunderbirds)

The other Vaughan is as cool as the other side of the pillow, especially compared to his fire-spitting brother. They both favor Strats, but the similarities pretty much end there. Jimmie rarely plays fast or dirty, and is never flash. He mostly sticks to stabbing single notes within a traditional framework, giving them plenty of space to breathe. Jimmie Vaughan reminds us that less notes can certainly mean more, and the solo on the title track from the Fabulous Thunderbirds' 1986 album, Tuff Enuff, is a shining example. Vaughan doesn't usually do effects, but in this instance shimmering reverb and delay add remarkable depth to his sparse phrasing. It's hard to find better evidence of a pure blues solo building a perfect bridge to a crossover hit. —J.L.

"Call It Stormy Monday" — T-Bone Walker

Chances are, you're not old enough to remember the impact this song made when it was originally released in 1947. (By way of perspective, Clapton was only two years old then, and the first Stratocaster was still seven years off.) So you may listen now and find yourself thinking, What's the big whoop? I've heard other guitarists play that stuff. The big whoop is: Walker invented that stuff. Without his influence, there might've been no B.B. King, no Chuck Berry, and no Gatemouth Brown. Go back to the source and listen, taking note of Walker's rhythmic sophistication. Sure, there are eighth-notes and sixteenths and some triplets. But such subdivisions were never more elastic than in Walker's hands. — A.L.

"Ball and Biscuit" — Jack White (The White Stripes)

Jack White kicked the blues straight in the nuts on "Ball and Biscuit" utilizing a bizarre, ferocious sound the likes of which had never before been heard in the history of America's senior guitar genre. No "real" bluesman would have imagined such blasphemy as a Detroit garage punk playing a plastic guitar (a 1964 Montgomery Ward Airline) with a fuzz-drenched, Whammy-infected tone on a blues romp. White made it his signature tone, and his signature guitar album, Elephant, landed him his first Guitar Player cover story on the June 2003 issue. The bombastic trio of solos throughout White's sideways statement "Ball and Biscuit" play like a blues from hell trilogy. — J.L.

Austin-born guitarist Eric Johnson has reflected on his hometown’s knack for spawning next-level guitarists and how the city, with its “little artistic pockets,” helped shape them.

Certain places have come to be intimately associated with specific styles of music, from the Mississippi blues to the Seattle grunge explosion of the ‘90s. Austin, meanwhile, is often celebrated as the world’s live musical capital, as well as for its ties with the blues. And Johnson has always been in awe of its most famous export, the late Stevie Ray Vaughan.

During a sit-down interview featured in the latest issue of Guitarist, the '"Cliffs of Dover" composer offers a taste of what the Austin scene was like when he cut his teeth there. He’s also revealed the one skill SRV boasted that Johnson feels deserves as many accolades as his abilities on electric guitar.

“When I look back now, I realize there are certain little artistic pockets that are known for certain things, like new art,” he says. “Austin had its own thing; its own artistic pocket. A lot of the players there had that blues influence. No matter what kind of music they did; whether it’s country or country rock or blues or jazz, there’s an element of blues in what they do.”

Perhaps there’s something special in the water supply. It would go some way to explaining SRV’s revolutionary talents.

“Stevie was fantastic,” Johnson continues, paying his respects. “I got to do some touring with him and hang with him a little bit. He was a wonderful guy and obviously a tremendous talent. Just the way he could give it up and go out there and get out of the way of himself and channel this great, beautiful force and be a really, really fine singer in front of all the powerful music that he did.

“I really admire that, probably just as much as his guitar playing,” Johnson continues. “I think he was a great singer and he wrote really good songs. He had the whole package. I learned a lot from that — trying to put emotion into what you do. He certainly was a master at that.”

SRV's legacy was cut all too short when he died aged just 35. His brother, Jimmie Vaughan has spoken to Guitar Player about the impact his death had on him.

“I’m still in denial about it. It was terrible. I had to deal with losing my little brother,” he said only last year. “The thing is that he died on the same day that our father died, four years earlier. Imagine how that felt when I was calling up my mother to tell her. I guess she thought I was calling up to tell her I was thinking about her on that anniversary. And I have to tell her that Stevie got killed?

“It’s a life-changing experience... I didn’t know what to do or say about it when it happened. I almost didn’t even want to play anymore. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.”

While SRV enjoyed a sizable reputation, he once went on record to lament that Johnson's stature wasn't bigger. “If Seven Worlds had come out at the time it was ready, instead of being held back, he would have been as big as Jeff Beck,” Vaughan said.

The record was released in 1998 but had been recorded two decades earlier, in the wake of his old band the Electromagnets splitting up.

Meanwhile, footage of Stevie jamming with Albert Collins and Jimmie Vaughan in 1989 has recently resurfaced, after being feared lost for 20 years.

Buddy Guy has some 70 years of experience as a blues guitarist and has played his electric guitar on stages all over the world . From the two-string diddley bow he made as boy growing up in Louisiana to his first proper guitar — gifted to him by a stranger — to his rise in Chicago, where he was mentored by greats like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, B.B. King and Guitar Slim, Guy rose to become a signature blues artist in his own right.

Guy fortified his innate guitar talent with a wealth of knowledge and skills he gained over his formative years. He then passed it on to players like Eric Clapton, who saw Guy onstage in England in the mid 1960s and was moved to form his own blues trio, Cream. And while Guy announced his retirement from the road with his 2023 Damn Right Farewell Tour in 2023, his influence lives on in a new breed of guitarists. That includes players like Gary Clark Jr., John Mayer and Johnny Lang, who learned to play blues authentically by watching — and learning — from the master, who honed his craft with a Fender Stratocaster in his hands.

As for Guy, his blues expertise came the hard way. He's a self-taught player, with no formal training—except for a couple of lessons with a high school music teacher who, to Guy's chagrin, couldn't show him the things he really wanted to learn.

"I moved to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, to go to high school," he recalled to Guitar Player in our January 1999 issue. "And they had a music teacher there, and I thought, 'My God, I've got what I've always wanted. I'm gonna let this guy teach me how to play the guitar.'

"I went in, and the teacher showed me some scales, and I said, 'I don't wanna play that; I wanna play like this' — I had a Muddy Waters record and a John Lee Hooker record at the time. He looked at me and said, 'I can't teach you that.'

“So I said, 'Well, then I can't take a music class!'

“I was so excited by the way Muddy played the slide, how B.B. King squeezed the strings, and how Lightnin' Hopkins and T-Bone Walker played their things. I said, 'If they don't teach this in school, I've got to find it myself.'

"Nowadays," Guy continued, "young people have advantages that I didn't have. It wasn't until 20 or 30 years ago that you even saw blues written in music notation—they claimed they couldn't write it.”

One tremendous benefit that Guy did have — after moving to Chicago in 1957 — was seeing Chicago blues legends such as Muddy Waters, Wayne Bennett, Matt Murphy, and Earl Hooker when they were at the height of their powers.

But no matter what a musician's cultural advantages — or disadvantages — might be, Guy maintains that anyone with enough heart can play the blues.

"If you love the blues, you can play it. Every interview I've ever had, I get asked 'Can a white man play the blues?' I hate that question! It's a human being, man. If I had eight fingers on my left hand, then! would say, 'No, a white man probably can't play like me.'

“But these guys, man—the late Stevie Ray Vaughan, this young Jonny Lang, Eric Clapton, and Jeff Beck, to name a few — there's some things they do that I wish I had known.

"Look at athletes — boxers, football players, baseball players—they come in all sizes and all colors, and all those guys are great. Music is the same way. There's no advantage or disadvantage. If you want to learn this thing, man, and you love it the way I love it, you can do it."

Cream were a revelation when they emerged on London's blues scene in 1966. Until the power trio's arrival, blues guitar had typically been slow, intentional and emotional. Unlike others before them, Cream — Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker — brought rock and roll fire, flair and ferocity to the genre — along with a fair helping of jazz-inspired jamming — and in doing so helped change the game.

Yet despite comprising three superlative musicians — including Clapton, who had forged a formidable reputation with John Mayall's Bluesbreakers — Bruce believes the group was, from its start, destined to pull itself apart.

His comments — from a 2012 interview with Guitarist conducted two years before his death — centered on the supergroup’s creative apex, 1967’s Disraeli Gears.

“I think Eric thought he was going to have this little blues trio and he would be sort of like Buddy Guy standing out the front," Bruce offered. "And then I thought, Great, I can be a composer and get some songs out there. And I think Ginger just wanted to conquer the world, basically, like Genghis Khan or somebody. We had different ideas.

“Meanwhile, the management was thinking, ‘Let’s milk this for all it’s worth because it ain’t going to last. So let’s get them out there and make them play every toilet in the US for as long as they’ll last before they go barmy or kill each other.’”

What management never imagined, according to Bruce, is that Cream would not only become an influential blues-rock crossover act but also cross the pond and catch fire in America.

“[They] thought it was going to be an all-star band that would fill the blues clubs, and maybe be a nice festival attraction,” Bruce said. “They never thought it would spread; they never thought it would get to America; they never thought we’d have hit songs. They had absolutely no bloody idea. And when you look at it, it’s a miracle that it happened.”

Bruce was certainly correct about Clapton's aims. Seeing Buddy Guy perform live at London's Marquee Club in 1965 inspired him to sever ties with the John Mayall's Bluesbreakers and launch his own group.

"What [Guy's performance] said to me was 'This was possible,’” Claton recalled of the change-making show decades later. “If you were a good enough guitar player, you could do it as a trio. It seemed to be so free, you could go anywhere. With Jack in my filing cabinet, I was thinking about that as a way of breaking free.”

But Clapton's Guy-inspired foundation would form just one facet of the group's musical direction. Bruce was eager to take the blues to new places.

“Eric was really into the blues and he knew a lot of stuff that I didn’t know," the bassist said. "So I was being a bit presumptuous by saying, 'I love the blues', but I’d want to take it a step further and use the language of the blues as a way to write music for us. I always thought I could really change the world through music.”

in fact, both Bruce and Baker had jazz backgrounds, unlike Clapton. The late Peter Brown, who co-wrote lyrics to Cream songs like "White Room" and "Sunshine of Your Love," believed that helped Clapton elevate his playing to new heights.

“They didn’t put Eric down,” he said of Bruce and Baker. “They didn’t say, 'You don’t know enough about chords, or, You don’t know enough about jazz to play with us.' What they did say was: 'You’re a terrific player with terrific feeling, and if you play with us then this thing will happen. The magic will come.'”

The magic came and went, with Cream disintegrating after four studio albums, leaving behind an untouchable legacy.

Reflecting on what they left behind, Bruce mused, “I think you always would like another go.

“You’re never quite happy about it,” he said. “There’s definitely things that could be changed and, obviously you only hear the mistakes. But once it’s finished, it’s finished.”

Despite being just 18 years old, Grace Bowers is a shining light for the future of blues guitar. She’s been championed by the likes of Devon Allman, Margo Price, Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, and Susan Tedeschi since releasing her debut album, Wine on Venus, last year.

Bowers' rise has been nothing short of meteoric, with her talents and fame belying her youthfulness. Having regularly posted clips of her playing on social media in recent years, the comments sections of those videos soon played host to some reputable names.

“My guitar heroes would start commenting on my posts,” she tells Classic Rock. “I’ll never forget the day that Brian May commented on one of them. That was when I had to step back and be like, ‘Wow, that’s wild.’ It was kind of crazy how things all just built up so big before we [Grace Bowers & the Hodge Podge] put a single song out.”

Impressively, Bowers already has nine years of playing beneath her fingers and says a certain top-hatted guitarist was responsible for drawing her to the instrument.

“Slash is the reason I picked up a guitar when I was nine,” she says. “I somehow found the 'Welcome to the Jungle' music video by Guns N' Roses,” she told Marty Music. “You know, Slash in that, with his Les Paul and everything. He looked cool. I wanted to look cool like Slash, so I asked my mom for a guitar."

The pair crossed paths at a show in July last year, providing a full-circle moment for her.

Hearing B. B. King’s "Sweet Little Angel" on the radio shortly after sent her on a voyage of self-discovery via blue music’s rich history.

“That’s the song that made me realize I love this, that I want to do this forever,” she says.

Yet, despite being drawn to the blues, Bowers is veering away from one of its archetypal trademarks. Wine on Venus is brimming with happiness and smiling riffs, rather than the tales of woe and stinging licks that typically define the genre.

“I don’t hate sad songs,” she tells CR, “but I don’t think I’ll ever write a sad song. Being in the studio with all those people, there’s no reason to be sad about anything. I think what came out in the music was how much fun we all had recording.”

Even when the core of a song comes from a place of hardship or tragedy, she finds light in the darkness.

“The title track was written about my nana and before she passed,” she reveals. “Before she died she would tell everyone not to worry because she’ll be drinking wine on Venus because it’s the brightest star. I like that idea, it’s so out there.”

Bowers has gone on to share stages with Dolly Parton and Gary Clarke Jr., and rub shoulders with Billy Gibbons, and Orianthi, earning her a Gibson endorsement at the tender age of 14.

Her fast ascent through the ranks, coupled with her age, has seen her face her critics but she’s intent on winning them over one gig at a time.

“I get disrespected before I even play,” the guitarist told Guitar World last year. “People take one look at me, a young female, and immediately get a thought in their head of what I am, and they don’t take me as seriously as they should.”

Shinedown's Zach Myers, Michelle Malone, Driver Williams (Eric Church) Lynyrd Skynyrd's Damon Johnson, Trev Lukather, Steve Stevens, and Mother Mother's Ryan Guldemond were among the stars to hail her 2024's best new guitarist in Guitar World's end of year issue.

Sue Foley is renowned for her dynamic electric blues playing. Even so, the Texas blues woman took a stylistic detour on her latest album, One Guitar Woman, by covering a range of styles, including flamenco, classical and Tejano — all on a nylon-string acoustic guitar — while paying tribute to female guitarists like Memphis Minnie, Maybelle Carter and Sister Rosetta Tharpe.

“That’s the great thing about guitar playing,” Foley says. “There’s always a new mountain to climb. I tend to be restless and adventurous in general, and that certainly extends to my guitar playing. I’ve spent a lot of my life playing the blues, and I’ll always return to it, but there’s other kinds of music I still want to learn.”

Such as? “Well, jazz, for sure,” she says. “I can’t play jazz — yet. Harmonically, I’m really challenged. I know if I were to really try to stretch myself, that’s where I would probably try to go.”

Foley recently heard she's received a Grammy nomination for “Best Traditional Blues Album” on behalf of One Guitar Woman. It's her first nomination, and one that is clearly well deserved. She was kind enough to take some time from her busy schedule to offer choice bits of advice for Guitar Player readers.

“There’s a lot of technical tips you can get out there, but to me a big part of guitar playing is mental,” she says. “It’s funny how a lot of players can talk themselves out of trying something new or breaking out of their boxes. Just remember: There’s no rights and no wrongs. Play fearlessly and it’ll all sort itself out.”

1. Ask Yourself Big Questions

“Learning the fundamentals of blues isn’t that difficult, really. Once you familiarize yourself with how the I, IV and V operate in the circle of fifths, you’re in a good place. To me, those are the primary colors you need in order to paint a picture. But what I find fascinating about the blues — and much of it is mysterious, in a way — is just how many ways there are to express yourself using only a few colors.

“Blues music asks you some big questions, like, Who am I? What do the blues mean to me? What do I really want to say? It almost dares you to expand your mind and express yourself through your playing. It wants you to go to a deeper place all the time. I find that fascinating. To me, it’s a challenge every time I play, like, How am I going to play this solo and these licks that have been regurgitated countless times for almost 100 years in a way that sounds fresh and alive? How am I going to make them sound like me?

“Asking yourself these types of questions is as important as any kind of technical practice you undertake. I guarantee you, whenever you listen to the greats, you
can bet they’ve asked themselves these questions. I know this sounds kind of spiritual, but when you get down to it, that’s really the essence of the blues. This is music born from a certain time and place, and whenever we play it, we’re paying homage to those spirits and keeping them alive.”

2. Tone Comes From Your Picking Hand

“Of course, you need decent equipment to get a good sound — a good-quality guitar and amp, decent strings that aren’t too old. But the real secret about tone is that it comes from your picking hand. Your fretting hand is doing one kind of work, but for the most part it’s flowing in the same kind of general moment. But your picking hand is where you control your tone. It’s surprising to me that so few people really talk about it.

“When I was coming up, I spent a lot of time watching people’s picking hands. I used to go see Clarence ‘Gatemouth’ Brown a lot, and he had this amazing right-hand technique. He didn’t use a pick, and he did all these really interesting flourishes using all his fingers. It was like each finger was a paintbrush that he’d run across the strings. He could play fast and wild, but when I’d watch his right hand, it was like he put no effort into it. It was all graceful swing. That’s where his tone came from.

“In a different way, there was Albert Collins. He had another great right hand, and his tone could slice your head off. He used his fingers, too, and he played with very light strings. The way he dug his fingers into his strings and pulled the sound from them, it was like sparks flew.

“These kinds of players made an impression on me, and I decided to do away with a flatpick. I use a Golden Gate thumbpick, which I take on and off. Mostly I just play with my fingers so I can feel the flesh on the strings. What I like about that is how intimate it feels — there’s nothing that separates me from each string. I can pluck each string lightly, or I can dig in and get tough. I can run my fingers softly across the strings, or I can hit ’em hard. Playing this way, my tone comes straight from my picking hand, whether I’m going through an amp or not.”

3. If You Play Electric, Try an Acoustic

“It’s easy to let your pickups and amp do a lot of the work for you, but if you want to expand your playing — and if you want a dose of humility — pick up an acoustic from time to time. I started on an acoustic, so I’ve always felt comfortable playing one. The way I generate sound on it is vastly different than on an electric guitar. The sound basically comes from my stomach, which is pressed right against the instrument.

“It’s an unforgiving instrument, which freaks a lot of people out. This is especially true if you’re playing a nylon-string acoustic, which I’ve been doing a lot of lately. Don’t expect it to have the same behavior and response as your electric. It’s a whole different animal. So right away, adjust your expectations and approach. You’re going on a new adventure.

“I would also recommend people either use a thumbpick or an open hand when playing acoustic. There are so many things you can do using your whole hand, and you can experiment in so many ways. But be patient. You’re going to have to take baby steps. I remember my first flamenco guitar lesson: I had been playing for a couple of decades and I thought I was pretty good. I went for my first flamenco guitar lesson, which was open hand, no picks, on a nylon-string acoustic. Between the time signatures and the techniques, it was like I’d never played guitar before. Believe me, it was a good dose of humility.

“The more I played on a nylon-string acoustic, the more I fell in love with its sound and feel. I surrendered to the sound and didn’t fight it. And what was cool was when I found I could use a lot of the right-hand techniques I learned and apply them to my Telecaster playing. My fingers just flew across the strings.”

4. Embrace Your Suckiness

“We all hit a wall with our playing sometimes. I got in a rut myself with my blues playing. I’d been out on the road, and I could play different styles of electric blues, but then I started to think, What else is there? That’s when I started to get into learning flamenco and classical techniques. It was this mountain I wanted to climb, and the only way to do it was through baby steps.

“Whether you want to learn a different style of playing or not, the important thing is that you can’t give into your fear. If you’re trying something new or difficult, you can’t get freaked out if you suck at first. Keep going. In a way, you have to be honest and sort of embrace your suckiness. Say to yourself, Okay, I really suck at this, but I’m not going to stop. Each day you’ll be a little bit better, and one day you’ll be able to say, Hey, I don’t suck anymore.”

5. Speak Through Your Instrument

“Music is a conversation, and if you’re a guitar player, you’re speaking through your instrument. Think about it: If you’re having a conversation with somebody, are you just going to blather all over them and yell at them? That’s not a very effective way of communicating. Better to sit back and wait until it’s your turn to speak, and when you do, try to add something meaningful to the exchange.

“If you try to adopt this attitude, you’re going to find that you don’t have to say everything all at once to make a point. Jimmie Vaughan once told me, ‘Solos are
like little paragraphs in a story.’ That’s a lesson I took with me, and it’s guided me through the years. I don’t need to blather on in my solos. If I have something to say, I’ll say it. If I don’t, I won’t. If I perform a ballad that just requires me to play a melody, is that really so bad? I think not. That’s what I need to add to the conversation.”

At 18 years old, Grace Bowers has talents beyond her years and is seen by many as the torchbearer for the next generation of blues guitar players.

Devon Allman, Margo Price, Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, and Susan Tedeschi have all name-checked the rising star, who has wowed audiences at the prestigious Newport Folk and Crossroads Festivals in recent years.

Yet, despite her success, she says many people in the music industry instantly have dismissed her.

“I get disrespected before I even play,” she tells Guitar World. “People take one look at me, a young female, and immediately get a thought in their head of what I am, and they don’t take me as seriously as they should.”

“For the most part, I feel equal,” she adds. “But there’s been a lot of times when I feel disrespected or lesser, which is not cool. At the same time, being young and a girl is an advantage. There’s a lot of other people who are in that position, so I view it as an advantage — and a disadvantage.”

Bowers also had to shake off accusations that she’s backed by wealthy parents having self-funded her debut record Wine on Venus (with the Hodge Podge band).

“I’m still paying off the record we made,” Bowers clears up. “People online are like, ‘Her parents paid for it,’ ‘She comes from a rich background’ or ‘Her family was in the music business.’ None of that’s true.”

“With every single show I play, I’m not seeing any of that money because it’s going toward the record. That’s how much I believed in it.”

Ultimately, though, she’s shrugged off the negativity aimed at her and let her music do the talking. Nancy Wilson of Heart has said she has “a significant” voice on the guitar, thanks in part to her ability to produce “melodically conversational shredding as opposed to just wanking off”.

Speaking of the positive effects of her rise to stardom before being old enough to order a drink to celebrate it, she said: “I see people my own age in the audience, and their minds are blown. I’m making this stuff sound new to them.”

Joe Bonamassa is set to perform three special shows in Rory Gallagher's hometown next summer to commemorate the 30th anniversary of the blues great's passing. For Bonamassa, saying yes to the offer of celebrating the life of his “working class hero” was easy, but dealing with the pressure the occasion has put on him is proving less so.

“Here's this guy with long hair, a flannel shirt and he looked like he just came out of an auto factory playing some of the most gutbucket blues and rock you've ever heard,” Bonamassa had said of his first introduction to Gallagher while playing two of his most adored electric guitars earlier this year.

The chance to honor his legacy in Cork, Ireland, across three shows at the start of July is an exciting prospect, put in motion by the Gallagher family. It’s a move too that, in the wake of the sale of Rory’s iconic Stratocaster and a large portion of his other gear, shows that the family isn’t bequeathing its responsibility for keeping Rory’s flame burning any time soon. Bonamassa, one of the most celebrated and important bluesmen on the scene today, is the perfect man for the task.

“The idea came from the Gallagher family — Dónal [Rory’s younger brother and manager] and Daniel [his nephew and archivist] — and a gentleman from Ireland named Peter Aiken [promoter] who wanted to do something to celebrate next year’s 30th anniversary of Rory’s passing,” Bonamassa recently told Classic Rock. “When they reached out I said, ‘You had me at hello.’

“Then I thought about it and went, Shit, what did I just sign up for?”

When announcing the shows, Bonamassa had called the doubleheader — which has since been upgraded to three shows — “the biggest honor and challenge of my musical life.” He echoed that sentiment once more when speaking to CR.

“They will be,” he says. But there are caveats. “We’ve put together a great band featuring [bass guitarist] Aongus Ralston, [keyboardist] Lachy Doley, and [drummer] Jeremy Stacey [whose credits include King Crimson and Sheryl Crow]. Before starting rehearsal I told Dónal, Daniel, and Peter: ‘I’m not Rory; I don’t want to be a tribute act that replicates all the little glitches and mistakes. I’m going to be myself.’ And they said that’s exactly what they want. Having heard that, I could relax. It’s proven very popular, and from two shows it became three.”

Bonamassa recognizes that Gallagher’s stature isn’t as big in the States as on home soil. Still, via his father’s introduction, he quickly became one of his heroes and is basing his performances on the live album that got him hooked.

“I never thought I would be 47 years old — 48 by the time the shows happen — and doing a set of Rory based on [the legendary double live album] Irish Tour ’74, and doing it in Cork,” he muses. “But here we are. Let’s boogie.

“It won’t be perfect but it’ll be the best I can. You just have to go in there with conviction and show the fans how much the music means. But that’s me, I’ll never back down from a challenge.”

Bonamassa was 18 when Gallagher passed in 1995 meaning he never got the chance to meet his idol. Asked, then, what he’d say to him given the chance, he replied: “I would ask how he got so deeply into the blues. You can hear his Celtic influences, and there was a swing that he put into everything, but Rory really was the sum of his parts.

“He soaked up everything and put it all out in his own way,” he extends, before relaying a revelation he had while preparing for the shows. “The further we got into rehearsals, I began to realize that I was more deeply influenced by Rory even than [Eric] Clapton. I went: ‘Oh shit!’”

He admits that post-shows, “there’s every chance of a couple of Rory songs being Easter-egged into my live set,” but underscored that the show won’t be repeated verbatim.

Bonamassa was vocal about Gallagher’s legendary Strat remaining in Ireland beyond its sale, with Irish politicians and even the daughter of the man who sold Rory the instrument, for £100 in 1963, among the other voices wanting the same.

The campaign proved successful as the guitar was donated to the National Museum of Ireland after selling for $1.16 million in October.

The success of that campaign extends the likelihood of Bonamassa playing the Strat once more, after borrowing it for a soul-rendering take of Sloe Gin at London's Royal Albert Hall over a decade ago.

Whether the iconic instrument makes an appearance or not, it will be a special occasion for Bonamassa and the thousands that pack into Cork's Marquee, which has previously hosted Elton John, Bob Dylan, and Meat Loaf.

Throughout his career, the ever-humble Buddy Guy has used his status as a blues player to help promote the next generation of guitar greats.

Eric Clapton has recalled how seeing Guy's trio in London inspired him to quit the Bluesbreakers and form Cream in 1966. More recent followers of the bluesman include, Quinn Sullivan, who arrived on the scene after backing from Guy at just eight years old, and Christone "Kingfish" Ingram who has shared the stage with Guy on several occasions.

Derek Trucks is the latest guitarist to sing Guy's praises. Like Sullivan, he was gracing stages from a scarily young age and getting support from more experienced hands.

“I was really lucky to play with a lot of my heroes early,” Trucks says during a reflective conversation on the podcast of Foo Fighters guitarist Chris Shiflett. “I started touring at nine or 10 years old, and remember doing shows with Buddy Guy and sitting in with Bob Dylan at 11.”

Indeed, by his 20th birthday, he'd added Joe Walsh and Stephen Stills to that list, having found Gibson SGs to be his preferred six-string.

Asked whether he was shy or boisterous at those early gigs, Trucks replied: “I was reserved naturally so they would have to pull you out of your shell a little bit. Buddy Guy was always great about that. He’d let you know, like, ‘Get your ass out here.’

But his time playing intimate blues clubs with the blues legend proved the most insightful. Guy had yet to see the revival that gave his latter career a shot in the arm, and it was in these low-profile venues Trucks learned something important about being a band leader.

“What I remember about Buddy Guy is that when he wanted to, he would bring the band down to a whisper," Trucks says. "I could hear the amps humming.

“I remember that discipline and that use of dynamics just being a huge thing that went off in my head. It’s powerful when you can bring things down to that level but still hold the intensity. Then, when you take the lid off of it, it’s a big trip that you've taken."

Guy has more than 70 years of playing beneath his fingers, and while he finally retired from touring last year, at 86, his humility is as resonant as ever. He's dedicated his life to the blues, and in that, has been a determination to see its flame still burning bright long after his days are over.

Selwyn Birchwood, who first saw Guy as an impressionable 18-year-old, is another award-winning guitarist — including the Albert King Guitarist of the Year award in 2013 — that he has inspired to greatness.

“Anyone who’s seen Buddy live knows what an incredible showman he is, and it was then and there I said to myself, 'Whatever this music is, this is what I want to learn, and this is what I want to do,'” he told Guitar Player.

Last year, Guy sat down with GP to reflect on his early career, from his first guitars to moving to Chicago and never leaving.

At 64, Warren Haynes has had a rich and fruitful career. Few guitarists can match his tastefulness as a lead guitar player. And while others could play rings around him technically, he’s proven that the magic of blues guitar isn’t always about virtuosity. He drove that point home when he delivered two useful pieces of advice in a new interview with Rick Beato.

The YouTube host has a knack for pulling insightful anecdotes and masterful tips from his interview subjects — David Gilmour explaining how he turned his inability into his greatest asset chief among them — and his chat with Haynes proved no different.

Haynes’ advice forces players to look beyond the six strings of their instruments for inspiration. The guitarist knows something about that — although he's best known for his work in the Allman Brothers Band and Gov't Mule, the guitar wasn't his first instrument.

“I started singing first,” he says. “And so all the guitar players that I became enamored with were either singers, or players like Santana that sounded like they were singing through their instrument.

“I loved B.B. King's voice before I cared about guitar. Freddie King I always say would be one of my favorite singers even if he didn't play guitar.”

That saw him offer his first piece of wisdom.

“Some people take offense to it,” he says, “but every musician should listen to singers and drummers. Every musician should learn how to play drums and to sing at least some. It's only going to help with your musicality.”

There’s an interesting discrepancy, he says, between what guitarists can do with their instruments and what singers can do with their voices. Yet the limitations that singers face force them to make more tasteful decisions for their phrasing.

“The great singers that we grew up hearing are the best phrasers,” Haynes adds. “You can learn how to phrase better by listening to the greatest singers in the world and translating that into how you play guitar.

“The fact that singers have to breathe automatically gave them this sense of punctuation that you [otherwise] have to learn as a musician. We all know players who play great and have chops but don't know when to take a breath. They need to listen to Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, or Otis Redding. You can learn from all of them.

“The great singers have tone,” he adds. “They sing one note and it sounds unbelievable; that's the most valuable lesson. You should be able to play one note and have it sound really good. If not, you don't have the right tone.”

Hayne's other nugget of wisdom came after Beato praised his ability to leave acres of space in his lead playing — meaning he takes plenty of breaths throughout his solos. Haynes says he has Miles Davies to thank for that.

“I used to hear people saying, 'It's what you don't play' and I thought, What the hell does that even mean?” he admits.

"Miles supposedly once said 'Listen to what's in your head and then don't play it — play in the spaces.' I thought, Whether that's true or not it's a cool concept.”

Haynes then demonstrates what he means with his sunburst Les Paul, singing archetypal blues lines and then playing only in the spaces between each phrase. His playing is to provide punctuation rather than deliver full sentences. You can find this demonstration at 6:40 in the video above.

“It opens up a whole other door,” he says. “And they open less frequently when we get older, so it's important to run with it.”

The interview comes just after Haynes opened up about the story behind his stunning reinterpretation of the U2 classic, One, and explained how one of the best-loved songs in the Allman Brothers’ catalog was almost lost.

"This one poured right out of us in the studio,” he had said. “We were on a real roll.”

Vernon Reid spent time away from the dinner table this Thanksgiving to revisit Jimi Hendrix’s back catalog. Since then, he's come to the defense of a song he feels doesn’t get the plaudits it deserves.

While Hendrix tracks like of "Purple Haze," "Voodoo Child" and his astonishing cover of "All Along the Watchtower" — complete with one of rock’s most iconic solos —routinely earn accolades, Reid says one song from his catalog shows Jimi's relevance beyond his guitar talents.

“'Manic Depression' doesn’t get nearly enough respect for what a groundbreaking song it STILL is,” the guitarist wrote on X.

“It describes struggles with mental illness directly, not via metaphor. It was unprecedented in rock history. It laid a roadmap for Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon to expand upon.”

Reid's point is especially relevant given the norms of the era in which Hendrix wrote the song. The subject of men's mental health was rarely breached when Hendrix and the Experience released the song on their seminal album, 1967's Are You Experienced. Today, pop stars are much more quick to express their vulnerabilities.

In that respect, Reid sees Hendrix as a trailblazer who did more beyond what he achieved with a Fender Stratocaster.

The Living Colour guitarist said he also sees signs of Jimi's emotional expression in "The Wind Cries Mary," which he considers "one of the greatest meditations on the nature of grief and loss ever written.

“The way it spares no one. ‘Somewhere, a Queen is weeping. Somewhere, a King has no, Wife’. The tiny pause between ‘no’ and ‘wife’? That’s where his Mom goes.”

Hendrix's mother, Lucille, was largely absent from his childhood. His parents divorced when he was nine, and the court placed him and his brother, Leon, in the custody of their father, Al. Jimi would reference Lucille in other songs, such as 1971's posthumously released "Angel."

Continuing his Hendrix love-in, Reid has since added that "Red House" proves “that Hendrix was an R&B guitarist, as much as a blues player,” and that “ 'Wait Until Tomorrow’s flawless guitar parts would’ve been equally at home at Stax, Atlantic, or Motown” record labels.

Reid recently teamed up with Reverend Guitars for a brand-new series of signature guitars. The collection comprises three models united by their trio of custom-voiced Railhammer humbucking pickups, Floyd Rose 1000 tremolos and pin-lock tuners, but offering three very distinctive finishes

The collaboration was first teased back in April via Instagram, where Reid said, “It's gonna be a stunner.”

Speaking to Guitar Player in October, Reid explained how a simple error resulted in his greatest guitar find. He says that after a paperwork mix-up led to a price, that “wasn’t too bad” quickly becoming a whole lot better.

By the mid-’60s, Eric Clapton was one of the hottest guitar players on the planet, spearheading a new and exciting virtuoso guitar movement. Transitioning from John Mayall’s Bluesbreaker's slow licks to Cream’s adrenalized blues solidified his reputation, but it couldn’t have been forged without Buddy Guy laying the foundations for him.

From Howlin' Wolf to B.B. King and beyond, a litany of talent helped propel blues guitar playing into the spotlight, but Clapton believes that no artist changed the perception of what a guitarist could do like Guy.

Speaking at the bluesman’s inauguration into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2005, Clapton said: “Buddy did far more than just hold his own. In my humble opinion, he stole the show.”

In 1963, Guy had been part of the Folk Festival of the Blues LP which, recorded over several nights in Chicago, also featured Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Willie Dixon, and Sonny Boy Williamson.

“He let everyone know that he was the new dangerous kid on the block,” Slowhand extends. “It is still one of the great debut albums of any artist in any genre and it started me on a relentless mission to find out just who this man was.”

A deep dive into his piecemeal discography ensued, with many becoming “milestone recordings” for the guitarist.

He'd starred on Chess Records tracks since 1958, often featuring on songs by Otis Rush, Muddy Waters, and Little Walter, “and no matter how great the song or the performance, my ear would always find him out,” says Clapton.

“He stood out in the mix simply by virtue of the originality and vitality of his playing.”

It wasn’t just his playing that encapsulated his attention, either. Despite plying their trades on different sides of the Atlantic ocean, he saw a lot of himself in Guy's story.

“He was a younger blues musician in a field totally dominated by much older guys. I could identify with him,” he says. “There he was, standing beside the masters of his craft, holding his own and confidently pushing the blues into the 20th century.”

In ‘65, he was able to see his idol live, backed by a bass player and drummer for a show at London’s prestigious Marquee Club. It proved a change-making moment in Clapton’s career.

During his Hall of Fame speech, he'd called the show “earth-shattering,” with Guy playing electric, forward-thinking blues and pulling out tricks – like playing with his teeth – that Hendrix would later make his own.

“What it said to me was 'this was possible,’” he recalled in a 2005 interview. “If you were a good enough guitar player, you could do it as a trio. It seemed to be so free, you could go anywhere. With Jack [Bruce] in my filing cabinet, and being in a fairly rigid structure like John Mayall's band, I was thinking about that as a way of breaking free.”

Clapton left the Bluesbreakers a year later, in ‘66, with Peter Green craftily talking his way into the spot he'd vacated. Suddenly the guitarist could spread his wings like he’d admirably watched Guy do.

Clapton has previously gone on record calling Guy the greatest guitar player alive. When the Dallas Observer asked for his response to such an accolade, he was quick to repay the compliment while remaining characteristically humble.

“It's nice of Eric to say that, but I still have to go out and prove that I can play a few licks,” he had said. “I don't take that for granted. Hell, if Eric says that I am the greatest guitar player ever, then maybe I am.”

The argument over whose talents are better could rage on for centuries after both are long gone, but what cannot be understated is how much Guy excited Clapton.

Without his sonic influence, and seeing the flexibility a trio could give him, Clapton may never have gone on to form Cream and elevate the blues to another level. Just like he felt Guy did when he first played his way into the scene.

Rory Gallagher’s instantly recognizable heavily worn Fender Stratocaster has sold at auction for $1.16 million and will be donated to the National Museum of Ireland to further its legacy.

The sale comes as welcome news to the growing movement determined to keep the guitar on Irish shores. The instrument was purchased by Live Nation Gaiety Ltd. — a joint partnership between the ticketing firm and a Dublin theater — to ensure its future as a museum piece for music enthusiasts.

The guitar, which Gallagher purchased in 1963, is the first Stratocaster to arrive in Ireland and has been in the care of Gallagher’s brother and former manager, Dónal, since his death in 1995. Looking after the instrument, which included loaning it to museums and exhibits, had taken its toll on the Gallagher family. Dónal, who recently underwent successful treatment for cancer, said auctioning the guitar had been a “difficult decision."

“I couldn’t help thinking, What happens after my demise?” he recently told Guitarist. “And I suppose being hospitalized myself brought that into sharper focus. The guitar has got a life of its own and it’s got to move on.”

Gallagher also cited the mounting storage costs and stress of being away from the instrument during the pandemic — it was in a U.S. museum when the world went into lockdown — as other reasons for its sale.

The announcement that the guitar would head to auction caused a stir in the guitar world in recent months as efforts were initiated to stop its sale.

The daughter of the music store owner who sold the guitar to Gallagher established a GoFundMe page to raise one million euros — about $1.1 million — to keep the guitar in Ireland as the centerpiece of a “music museum” in Gallagher’s hometown of Cork.

Members of the Irish government extended support to the campaign. Underscoring the guitar’s cultural significance, Michael Martin, Ireland's deputy prime minister, said, “Rory was one of the first to put Irish rock on the international stage.” The campaign ultimately fell short of its target.

The $1.16 million sale makes Gallagher's Strat one of the most expensive guitars ever sold at auction. Other notable guitars in that category include Eric Clapton’s “Blackie” Strat ($959,000), and David Gilmour's Martin D-35 ($1,095,000). Kurt Cobain's MTV Unplugged Martin D-18E acoustic guitar currently holds the top spot after selling for more than $6 million in 2020.

Joe Bonamassa was first in line to celebrate the news that Gallagher's Strat would remain in Ireland. Taking to Instagram, he wrote, “The best news I have heard all year. Bless them for keeping this guitar in Ireland. Congratulations to the Gallagher family for such an incredible auction. I know it was a heavy and emotional day.”

Dónal Gallagher says his family has been “overwhelmed by the response to this auction” and the passion people have shown for his brother's legacy.

“It has been nearly 30 years since my brother's passing,” he reflects. “Though it was a difficult decision to part with this collection, I am grateful that these treasured instruments can now tour the globe as Rory did, spreading his music and memory.”

The Stratocaster was just one piece in the auction, which included a large number of Rory's electric guitars, amps and pedals.

Gallagher’s 1968 Martin D-35 acoustic sold for £102,000 ($132,000), while a stunning '30s-era National Triolian resonator fetched £95,000 ($125,000).

A 1963 Gretsch Corvette that had cost Gallagher a mere $150 sold for £25,600 ($33,000), with the late great’s quirky 1968 Coral 3S19 Electric Sitar amassing £11,520 ($15,000).

Lastly, Gallagher's '59 Fender Esquire, which was once crushed on an airport runway but survived, fetched £95,650 ($125,000). It still bears the scars of that fateful incident.

To see the full auction results, visit Bonhams.

Ten years ago, Joe Bonamassa did a surprising thing. His trio of Dumble guitar amps had been vital tools in sculpting his tone — along with Marshall and Van Weelden amplifiers — but he felt it was time to switch things up with his tube amps.

“Two years ago, I mothballed that whole cliché of the rig I’m most associated with,” he explained to Total Guitar in 2016. “The two Marshalls and the two Van Weeldens and the Dumbles and the effects board and everything.

“I sold all my Dumbles. I had three at one point and I sold them all. One I traded for a ’59 Les Paul, which I get way more joy from.”

Bonamassa filled the vacancies with a collection of Fender Tweeds, and that seemed to be the end of his lust for Dumbles.

Except for one.

For 15 years, Bonamassa had searched high and low for the Dumble Overdrive Special Reverb owned by Little Feat guitarist Lowell George. The amp hadn't been played since the night before George's death in June 1979, when he used it for a performance at Lisner Auditorium in Washington.

Bonamassa's search famously came to an end earlier this year when he found and purchased the coveted piece of gear, which he calls “the crown jewel” of his amp collection.

But as it turns out, the allure of Alexander Dumble’s creations had returned to him much sooner.

“I got into the Tweeds for a long time,” he tells The Zak Kuhn Show, “and I got tired of using too complicated of a rig to achieve the same result as plugging straight in.”

Bonamassa says he began buying Dumbles once again in 2020. “I repurchased a couple at that point,” he says. “I built this three-piece rig for when we were going to do those shows that could only have 25 percent of people.”

It didn’t long before he added more.

“I brought back the old amp shanty from years ago,” he continues, “and I plugged them all in — same wiring, same pedalboard, same everything. I said, ‘Man, I've been missing the boat.’ So they're back, and now I have eight of them.”

It’s a mystery why he ever sold them. After all, Bonamassa’s home, Nerdville, is so full of vintage gear that it can rightly be called a museum. It wouldn’t have been unusual for him to keep the Dumbles in his collection.

But as he explains, those amps represented “a lot of money sitting around.”

“It’s an expensive hobby,” the guitarist says, noting that the ’59 Les Paul he purchased with the funds from those Dumble sales more than justifies his decision.

And besides, he says with a sigh, “Collectors do weird things.”

Whatever the case, he has no regrets about his purchase of Lowell George’s amp head and matching cab. Watch for that “pretty special piece of rock and roll history” to be featured on his fall tour dates.

Bonamassa isn’t the only electric guitarist still stuck on Dumbles. Fellow blues guitarist Kenny Wayne Shepherd tells Total Guitar in its November 2024 issue he can’t live without the 11 amps Alexander Dumble custom-built for him.

“From the first amplifier to the last, they elevated my playing and creativity,” he says. “It freed up so much energy for me to express myself. I didn't realize how much energy I was using with my previous amplifiers to try and get them to do the things I wanted them to do.”

In related news, Joe Bonamassa has unveiled his 12th Epiphone signature guitar, with his latest Les Paul sporting a rare colorway and an unlikely pickup choice.

Kenny Wayne Shepherd believes players who start out learning on cheap electric guitars are more appreciative of good gear when they get it.

He should know. As the bluesman tells Total Guitar in its November 2024 issue, his first guitar was a budget-friendly Yamaha SE150 with a Candy Apple Red finish, purchased for him by his parents when he was six or seven. "It’s basically a Strat body without the contours," he says. "It had one pickup and one volume knob."

Yet Shepherd, who just released the second part of his Dirt On My Diamonds double album earlier this year, says he’s grateful that his humble beginnings included a humble instrument.

“It was an incredibly crude guitar,” he continues. “My family couldn't buy me a fancy guitar even if they wanted to. But it was all I needed at the time to get me going and give me an opportunity to start honing my skills."

Moreover, it set him on his path of obsessing over gear and tone.

“When you start with a crappy guitar, it begins the cycle of gear addiction; you appreciate it, but you long for a better instrument. It gives you a level of appreciation because you started with humble beginnings, and then when you make it to the top of the guitar mountain you've appreciated every step along the way and what it took to get there.”

And that's not a bad thing at all. An appreciation of good gear — and what it means for his tone — led Shepherd to work with the legendary amp builder Alexander Dumble, who created 11 amps for the guitarist. “And from the first amplifier to the last,” Shepherd says, “they elevated my playing and creativity. It freed up so much energy for me to express myself. I didn't realize how much energy I was using with my previous amplifiers to try and get them to do the things I wanted them to do."

(Meanwhile, Joe Bonamassa, another Dumble fan, recently completed a 15-year quest to own Lowell George's Dumble Overdrive Special. He’s set to tour with it this fall. )

Shepherd's experience with great gear gives him perspective to appreciate what guitarists achieved in earlier eras with less-advanced technology. He holds particular reverence for Jimi Hendrix, whom he paid tribute to with his recent performances on the annual Experience Hendrix tours.

“He was incredibly innovative, especially if you consider the technology, or the lack of technology, that was available to him back then,” Shepherd told Loudwire Nights on Demand.

“I mean, multitrack recording wasn't even that old at that point. He had, like, three pedals for his rig because that's basically every pedal that was available at the time. And it's just amazing, all the ideas and the sounds that he was able to create with such limited resources.”

Which just goes to prove Shepherd's point about starting out with cheap gear and how it forces you to work harder.

When we asked Billy F. Gibbons to select five key songs from across his career, there was a proviso: He couldn’t include “La Grange,” as it had already been the subject of in-depth scrutiny in our “How I Wrote” feature of May 2021. 

“When I was asked to participate in this series, I got lit up and began peeling the onion over what songs to zero in on,” the Reverend tells us. “The most obvious, ‘La Grange,’ was ZZ Top’s first national breakthrough to climb the pop singles chart. But, alas, having been asked to set it aside, the question that I had to ponder was, ‘Where to start?’” 

Certainly, it’s no easy task when you’ve got a back catalog with the quality and depth that Gibbons has amassed both with ZZ Top and in more recent years as a solo artist, where he’s found an alternative outlet for his creativity. 

“It’s something of a different headspace when engaging with the solo excursion adjacent to ZZ,” he explains. “Of course, the sometimes obvious six-string similarities have much in common, yet there’s a considerable vibe in the mix. 

“There’s mucho feel, which can connect in a very ZZ-like way, and yet also some far-fetched opposites to balance the affair. Some of it’s a bit outside, some a bit inside, but all of it is quirky. The down-and-dirty process slides into mindless instinct while bringing things to conclusion.”

As far as Gibbons is concerned, the solo process fires up the creative juices for ZZ Top, and vice versa, with ZZ looking at scheduling some recording time in the near future. “Yes, we’re on the edges of nailing another album down. Keeping the band on the road so much of late continues to stir up the angst for a rapid studio return. I guess it’s time to write the new ones.” 

When they get around to recording them, those tracks will be the band’s first with bassist Elwood Francis, Gibbons’ guitar tech for three decades, who came into ZZ Top following the 2021 death of founding bassist Dusty Hill. As far as Gibbons is concerned, they couldn’t have found a better person to step up to the plate and fill Dusty’s shoes. 

“The directed transition eased in, with all the senses fired up,” he says. “The unexpected but strident instruction came from Dusty to get Elwood to fill the spot when he knew he was going to be out of action for a few months prior to his death. We accommodated his wishes and immediately solidified the move. It’s a legacy from the Dust, moving forward with Elwood keeping the bottom on the Top.” 

Gear-wise, of late, Gibbons has been seen sporting a hybrid SG-style guitar that features a Flying V-styled headstock. “We defined a design that emerged from the drawing table,” he says. 

“It was a valued collaboration with John Bolin at Bolin Guitars and the fine folks at Gibson. It’s an expression with a visual appeal which seems to work, while working within the collective components found throughout the running history of Gibson appointments.” 

As always, Gibbons continues to favor extremely light-gauge strings, which seems remarkable given the depth and weight of tone that he manages to pull from his axes. “Yes, Jim Dunlop managed to draw the ultra-light .007 gauge wire with success on all counts,” he affirms. 

“The resiliency of the string’s tension, combined with the secrets of the Dunlop alloy, make for some rad reaches for bending over the fretboard. They require nothing in the way of adjusting your touch or approach. It’s just a matter of grab the guitar and go.”

Gibbons has long been renowned as a collector of some of the finest guitars ever created, plus some of the downright weirdest. There remains one guitar though, that is his most prized possession. 

“That’s gotta be that mysteriously magnetic Pearly Gates, the ’59 Les Paul Standard that sounds like no other I’ve encountered,” he says. “She’s gotta be the first I’d put in the ‘go’ bag in the event of fire or disaster. The real trick is thinking about the next one.” Gibbons continues to find inspiration in the blues music that first excited him, and in making music with some long-time Texan contemporaries. 

“Seems that lately we return to a handful of a dozen select LPs or so which continue to inspire. It’s an ongoing discussion among the regular gathering with our sideband act, the Jungle Show, back in Texas, with Jimmie Vaughan, Sue Foley, Mike Flanigin and Chris ‘Whipper’ Layton, as we go on arguing about elusive new directions which might light the fuse unexpectedly. We know it’s out there. It just morphs into the unknown as fast as greased lightning.” 

Given the number of years and miles Gibbons has put on the clock since the mid- ’60s, you would be forgiven for thinking that it might start to take its toll, but you’d be way off the mark. 

“I’m more excited and enthused than ever before, if that’s possible,” he attests. “Having this job — getting out there and playing each and every night, spending countless studio hours exchanging sonic ideas with others — is one of the greatest privileges one could have. Sometimes, dreams abound in Technicolor about thrashing on the guitar, and then it happens to righteously unfold onstage. 

“Hard to predict, yet easy to savor and enjoy. I never tire of the old ZZ Top standards. They’re like old friends and it’s always good to get together with them. When they’re played, there’s a recurrent recollection of what it was like early on, so it becomes ‘the now.’ At the same time, it’s a vivid trip down memory lane. There’s a new stage and a new audience to engage which always keeps things fresh, fine and foolish.”

99th Floor – Moving Sidewalks (Single, 1967)

“Going way back to the Moving Sidewalks, our pre-ZZ band, we stabbed the stake in the ground. That was back in those pre-Cream, pre–Jimi Hendrix Experience days, inspired by psychedelic pioneers and fellow Texan pals the 13th Floor Elevators. Their brilliant frontman, Roky Erickson, was, as they say in the tech biz, ‘an early adopter’ — of exactly what is hard to say. 

"The Elevators came up with some rather unearthly sounds, not previously conceptualized. Elevators go up and sidewalks move forward, which inevitably brought the name ‘the Moving Sidewalks’ into focus, figuring the realm to be all things horizontal — the contradiction, of course, being ‘99th Floor.’ 

“The first recorded version of the number, by the way, pre-dates the Sidewalks, as it was originally cut with Billy G and the Blue Flames, my band from way, way back. We recorded the demo to get the ball rolling, moving into the Sidewalks with drummer Dee Merrill Mitchell. 

“We re-recorded a streamlined version, releasing the new track on the Tantara label, which hit with some commotion in Houston. The folks at Scepter caught it and licensed it for their Wand subsidiary — the same label as ‘Louie Louie’ by the Kingsmen, along with the classic ‘Twist and Shout’ by the Isley Brothers. That was some seriously august labelmate company we were keeping. 

“That release led to additional airplay and touring opportunities, including teaming up with the Jimi Hendrix Experience, who became our friends and mentors. As I remember it, I played a Fender Jazzmaster through a Vox Super Beatle, and a Hohner harp through a Fender Bassman.”

Waiting for the Bus/Jesus Just Left Chicago – ZZ Top (Tres Hombres, 1973)

“Yes, there are two song titles here, I admit, yet the two tracks are counted as one song stream. That’s the way they’ve been perceived ever since they debuted as ‘side one, tracks one and two’ on the album Tres Hombres. 

“Our engineer, navigating the space between the two songs, used the tried-and-almost-true method of razor blading for tape splicing, and it seemed then he did too good a job. 

“However, the effect eliminated any silent space between the two songs on the album. The two tracks heard together in rapid succession made for an unplanned — or maybe unchained — medley that serves both of the songs so well. 

“The two are really one in most fans’ eyes. ‘Waiting’ offered an anticipatory experience of a down-and-outer spending a significant part of a day in a state of suspension, and ‘Jesus’ set the pace moving from Chicago to New Orleans and all points in between. [laughs] In essence, it’s a blues suite in 4/4 and 6/8 time. 

“It’s still being auspiciously delivered on the concert stage as a ‘two-fer.’ The guitars of choice for this were a ’54 hardtail Strat and Pearly Gates, the ’59 ’Burst, through an early Marshall 1968 Super Lead 100.”

Legs – ZZ Top (Eliminator, 1983)

“This is an exemplar of the Eliminator era, although we might equally lean into ‘Sharp Dressed Man’ or perhaps ‘Gimme All Your Lovin’ from the same zillion-selling album. This was the time when that little red ’33 Ford three-window coupe became a cultural icon, when MTV began and against the odds created an unexpected ZZ Top video trio commotion. 

“The unassuming fact remains, we ceded the spotlight to ‘them pretty gals’ and the cool, custom car. It translated to the stage easily, as we used the fuzzy, spinning guitars seen in the video. and the visual connection ignited a delight with audiences across the board. 

“That video, by the way, was a reshoot. The original filming, shot over a weekend, was accidentally misplaced by a lab worker which required us to return back the very next week, reshooting the whole thing, frame by frame. 

“Quite the happy accident, on par with the ‘Waiting’/‘Jesus’ splice, especially when the song went Top 10 for an extended run of months on the charts. And wouldn’t you know it, it was adapted for use in a pantyhose commercial: Pins ‘R’ Us! 

“The guitar used to record it was a fur-covered solid-body plank fabricated from the Bolin production line, mic’d up under an ark of archaic tube amps that I named the Amp Cabin.”

I Gotsta Get Paid – ZZ Top (La Futura, 2012)

“This is another favored track definitely perceived as a left-field turn, as it’s actually an interpretation of a track borne of the Houston ghetto: ‘25 Lighters’ by DJ DMD, featuring Lil’ Keke and Fat Pat. 

“Our engineer, G.L. ‘G-Mane’ Moon, worked at John Moran’s Digital Services in Houston, the studios patronized by a plethora of rap and hip-hop clients. 

“We shared many off and on hours with some of those cats, coming up with some rad ideas and comparing notes. Our newfound friends showed us beats, and we showed them some guitar chops, as could only happen in Houston. 

“We dig into that track with our own take inspired by a coupling of Lightnin’ Hopkins styling throughout. The song was a highlight of La Futura. I think many Top fans perceived that album as one of our strongest for many years, and it certainly felt like it was a worthy addition to our catalog. 

“Once again, when it comes to the perfect tool for the job, Pearly Gates stepped up to the task, bolstered with a mid-’60s Fender VI running through a blond Fender reverb tank.”

Treat Her Right – Billy Gibbons & The BFGs (Perfectamundo, 2015)

“Lastly, I’ve decided to go for ‘Treat Her Right,’ from my first BFG solo album, Perfectamundo, which was recorded and released in preparation for the annual Havana Jazz Festival, following an invitation to perform there. 

“The brainstorming in the recording studio led to delving, in advance of that performance, into the world of Afro-Cuban music. This lit up the idea of recording a Latin-inflected record that drew upon the revered experience as apprentice to Tito Puente many years earlier. 

“Of course, the original version by Roy Head, recorded and released on Don Roby’s Back Beat label, made a huge splash, crossing all charts when it came out in 1965. Knowing Roy Head and his inimitable frantic stage antics, we attempted to follow the rhythmic exercises, and so it was with the BFGs jumping at the notion to take it for a ride. Upon its release, word reached us of Roy’s delight over our recorded efforts. 

“Speaking of Mr. Head, Roy included a song on the flip of his ‘Your (Almost) Tuff’ single entitled ‘Tush Hog’ back in the day, and, of course, that possibly led to a veiled R&B influence on another favorite, ZZ Top’s ‘Tush.’ 

“The guitar and amp was the same as can be seen on the Conan O’Brien TV clip: a Fender Cohiba Esquire hard-wired into a Magnatone Super 15 tube amp, gained hard with the volume cranked out.”

For more on Billy Gibbons, visit his website

Rising U.K. blues guitartist Dom Martin has seen more than enough darkness in his lifetime. While struggling with his own demons in his early 20s, he watched as his father — his guitar mentor and chief musical inspiration — succumbed to the ravages of alcoholism. 

Martin has been kidnapped and beaten by thugs in Belfast, confident it would be his last stand. And his obsession with music has ruined most of his relationships with those brave enough to get close. 

But with four years of sobriety under his belt and a trio of acclaimed blues albums to his credit, Martin is beginning to see the light. 

“I have the capacity for change,” he says, speaking to Guitar Player from his home in Ireland. “And that’s strength, that’s resolve, that’s resilience. It took me a long time to realize that.” 

Martin plays like a man determined on his third and latest album, Buried in the Hail (Forty Below Records), alternating between furious, fuzz-laden licks on “Unhinged” and country slide-blues straight out of northern Mississippi’s Hill Country on “Daylight I Will Find” and “Belfast Blues.” 

His fretwork shines, particularly on the album’s quieter moments, while his fingerpicking shows the versatility of a committed guitar fanatic on the tracks “Hello in There” and “The Fall.”

“Music is the love of my life,” he says. “I get so much enjoyment from it now that I really don’t need anything else, and I’m willing to sacrifice everything for it.” 

With no question about his true north, Martin spoke with GP about his determination to make an album he could be proud of, the gear behind it, and how Rory Gallagher keeps popping into the frame. 

You grew up playing the blues in Ireland. How did you come up on guitar and music? 

My dad was a guitar player. He did pub gigs and club gigs, some session work. Very low-key. He was a very troubled man, but he was one of the best guitar players I’ve ever heard. 

For me and my dad, it was always an outlet, a form of therapy, and I would encourage everybody to pick up an instrument because it really does unlock something that’s missing in a lot of people. It’s a creative thing. If you come into it with the intent that it’s a competition, you’re already screwed. 

How did your father foster your interest in guitar? 

I always was asking him to teach me this, teach me that — just getting him to show me as much as I could. He took me to see [U.K. folk guitarist] Ralph McTell when I was about 10 years old, at the Waterfront Hall in Belfast. 

I realized just how good my dad was, because Ralph McTell’s a phenomenal guitar player — a really good fingerpicker and songwriter — and I realized that my dad was doing versions of his songs that Ralph McTell wouldn’t even be able to produce. My dad put more soul, life and heart into it. 

On your earlier records, you mostly played a kind of Chicago-style electric blues, but you’ve really dug into country blues and slide playing since then. 

This album is completely me. I didn’t let anybody compromise it whatsoever. I stuck to my guns on it the whole way through, from start to finish. I set the amps the way I wanted them set. I set the guitars up the way I needed them to be set up. 

Even in the mixing process, I was on the phone to them, I was emailing them, saying, “Don’t touch this. Leave it alone. I don’t care what your thoughts are on it. I really couldn’t care less if it sounds like crap to you. To me, that’s what I want. And I’m sticking to that.” 

One of the surprises on Buried in the Hail is how you turned the country standard “Crazy” into a minor-key blues dirge. 

I was outta my mind when I came up with the chord structure for that, and I was struggling with the lyrics, but they just fit so well for the time that I found myself in when I was getting this album together. 

I wrote the album in two days at a friend’s house in between tours, and the moment was just right. I had peace. I had quiet. I had all my equipment there in the van, and I set everything up and started writing, and I just flew. It was insane. 

I didn’t think we were gonna get permission to do that song. I’m very proud of that, because I wouldn’t want to just copy and paste what Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson had done. I wanted those lyrics to feel like I wrote them and for the song to feel a little bit original.

As you mentioned, you took full control over the guitar tones this time. Where did you begin? 

My Gibson ES-339, mostly. On most of the songs, that was the sound I wanted. The pickups are PAF types: ’59s [the Mule] from Bare Knuckle. After that, a place called House of Tone pickups sent me a set of their Peter Green PAFs [Tru PAFs]. 

I wish I’d have had them for the album, ’cause that’s the sound I needed. I was like, “Ah, if you had come to me a couple of months ago, that’s what would’ve been on that album!” 

But it’s a great guitar. I can’t take it on tour, ’cause I’m scared of losing it or breaking it, so it’s only gonna be on that album and maybe the next one. 

What amps and pedals do you pair those up with? 

I love tweed amps, even the newer stuff. I’ve never really tried anything older than, like, the ’90s era. I started with a Peavey Classic 50, and I’ll never part with it — that was my first valve amp. After that, I sold a guitar for a Fender DeVille tweed. It has the bias pot. I’ve painted that red and I use it with a Marshall 4x12, and that’s the setup at the moment. 

It’s alnico speakers — I’ve got two blues and one alnico cream in the 4x12, and some unidentifiable thing, but it sounds good. I use the same setup for acoustic that I do for electric, so there’s no need for a DI and different stuff.

I use a Flynn Amps Hawk boost, which is the Rory Gallagher signature pedal, and that goes into an overdrive pedal made for me by my amp tech. I have no idea what it is; I just like the sound it makes. 

And then in the effects loop, there’s a lot of stuff I don’t need. It’s overkill for, like, 90 percent of the stuff I do, but I like it at home for ambience and just finding stuff for the fun of it. 

Did Rory’s shadow loom large as a blues player in Ireland? 

Yeah. I was on tour with Eric Gales last year, and Izzy Buholzer [of Gulfcaster Custom Guitars] got in touch in Florida. He said, “Dom, I wanna build you a guitar.” I said, “I have no money, but if I ever do, I’ll get back to you, ’cause I’ve got a great idea.” 

He said, “Dom, you don’t understand. I’m gonna build you a guitar. I don’t want your money. I love what you do.” I said, “I always wanted to play a Strat, but I could never get along with them. Imagine Rory Gallagher’s Strat was always a Telecaster. That’s what I want.” 

It took him a couple of days to get back to me, but he did it. The scary thing is, I was in Holland doing a gig for Rory’s birthday at a festival, and the guitar got stuck at customs. It turned up at my house on Rory’s birthday while I was playing in Holland for his birthday. I couldn’t believe it. 

It’s a coincidence, but it’s like Rory’s trying to say hello or something.

Dom Martin's new album Buried in the Hail is available to buy or stream now

Over the years, Guitar Player enjoyed a close relationship with B.B. King and we collected some wonderful quotes during the blues great's many interviews with our writers.

Here are some of his thoughts that we published in The Guitar Player Book.

His Personal Heroes

“T-Bone Walker has a touch that nobody has been able to duplicate. He seems to scrape his pick across the strings – how he hits specific strings, I just don’t know! He was the first electric guitar player I heard on record, and he made me go out and get an electric guitar. 

"He used to use a lot of horns, too. They made a beautiful sound – like shouting in the sanctified churches. He also had a good rhythm section. And, to me, T-Bone seemed to lay right in-between there somewhere. That was the best sound I ever heard."

“Blind Lemon Jefferson played solo-acoustic guitar, and his way of executing left you with the feeling that you could hear someone else backing him up. Bill Jennings used to play in Louis Jordan’s band, and his rhythm was so even and driving. You know, once you start a beat to going real good – keep it. That’s what he did so well.

"Johnny Moore played a big Gibson Super 400 with [pianist] Charles Brown, and he used to put in quite a few chord changes – things like big, fat 9th chords. They were really modern changes, but they always fit what he was doing. He would even slide into chords sometimes, and give a good, bluesy feeling to a ballad.

“Earl Hooker was the best slide guitarist I ever heard. He always knew exactly what he was doing. For instance, take a truck driver, tell him to park next to the curb, and he knows exactly where to put the rig. That’s how Earl Hooker played."

“Of course, Charlie Christian was amazing. I first heard him in 1941 or ’42. He was a master at diminished chords, and a master at new ideas, too. And he was kind of like a governor on a tractor. If a tractor is bogging down in the mud, the governor will kick in and give it an extra boost. Christian was the same way. 

"When the band would hit the bridge, he would keep the whole thing flying and get it really taking off. Charlie didn’t fluff notes much, either. A lot of us slide into notes because we aren’t sure. Like, if you want to hit a Bb, you hit a B, and slide down into it, or hit an A and slide up. But Charlie Christian knew. He was so sure. 

"I could go on and on, but, you know, I’m influenced by anybody I hear. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anybody play something that didn’t intrigue me at one time or another.”

On Style

“I believe your sound comes from within you. You can manufacture a sound by having a wah-wah pedal or something, but the actual sound comes from you. You know, if you have a piano sitting out in the lounge, and Ray Charles is playing it, he’s going to sound like Ray Charles. If Elton John is playing it, he’s going to sound like Elton. My point is that it’s your touch and your soul that makes it sound the way it does. 

"Now, you don’t want to play like B.B. King or somebody else. You want to be you. So what you do is listen to me and anybody else you like. I won’t use the word ‘steal,’ but try to ‘borrow’ a little bit from each guy. And, like that, you become you.”

On Soloing

“I was at the Apollo Theater one time, and a critic gave me one of the greatest compliments anyone has ever given me. He said, ‘B.B. King sings, and then Lucille [King’s guitar] sings.’ That made me feel very good, because I do feel that I’m singing when I play. That’s why I don’t play a lot of notes like some people. Maybe that’s the reason most of my music is very simple – that’s the way I sing.”

On How to Play the Blues

“The big mistake about people in the blues is they seem to think you have to be high, completely smashed or stoned out of your head to be able to play the blues. And I don’t think a guy has to wear patched trousers, either. That image is what people seem to put on us, and it’s wrong. 

"Blues music is like any other kind of music. Some of us excel, and some of us don’t. Some of us are really able to please people, and some of us can’t. But we all have the blues – red, white, black, brown, yellow, rich or poor. You can be successful and still have the blues. I have been fortunate, and yet now I have more to sing about than I ever did before.

"I look around and read the papers, and I see what’s happening in this country and around the world. There are money troubles. Food is running low is some places. There are oil problems. I go to the prisons and see what’s happening there. I think of my people – the ones I left behind in Mississippi, and all the people in all the Mississippis. 

"We are part of each other, you know. When one person is hurt, it hurts me, too. When I see their condition, I know what they feel, and I feel it. And it hurts.”

Acclaimed Finnish guitarist Erja Lyytinen has released the second single – a cover of Jimi Hendrix’s “Crosstown Traffic” – from her new live album, Diamonds on the Road – Live 2023. Available on double CD, vinyl and digital formats, the blues-rock sensation’s fourth live record is due to appear on October 6 via Tuohi Records.

As per the album’s lead single, “You Talk Dirty,” unveiled last month, this live rendition of “Crosstown Traffic” is accompanied by a performance video recorded and filmed in Finland earlier this year during Lyytinen’s spring tour.

The guitarist’s forthcoming double LP, Diamonds on the Road – Live 2023, follows up Songs from the Road, Live in London, and Lockdown Live, and is her first to capture the post-Covid live experience. “My sound has changed since the last live recording,” she says. “My playing has more of a hard-rock element and edge.”

As can be seen in the “Crosstown Traffic” live video, Lyytinen has an extensive array of electric guitars on hand to help fulfil her hard-rock vision. “Since my last live recording, my live guitar arsenal has grown quite a bit,” she points out. “I have five to six guitars, from Strats and Teles to custom-made guitars, on stage with me.

“It´s quite cool to dig out the different characteristics of each guitar. I´m using my road-worn Fender Custom Shop guitar on the songs ‘Black Ocean’ and ‘Never Really Had You.’ I had the guitar fine-tuned right before the tour and added it to my live arsenal. I feel as though it has been a sin to keep this Strat as my sofa guitar for years!”

Speaking of Stratocaster players, Lyytinen says, “There is only one Hendrix, there´s no way you can replicate Jimi, and that’s why I wanted to perform my own take on ‘Crosstown Traffic.’”

So how did she attempt to bring this 1968 Hendrix classic into the 21st century? “Our version is slightly faster than Jimi´s,” highlights Lyytinen, “and I´m also playing the song in open C tuning with a slide and that gives it a whole new approach.

“The song is a lot of fun to play live, it´s energetic and I just love the lyrics! There are plenty of metaphors and sexual references, all cleverly delivered by describing a traffic jam, which alludes to how a relationship has come to its end. I´m using a kazoo in the ending riff of the song, as Hendrix did use a comb and cellophane to create the sound of traffic.

“The result is a fun and cool live track with some interesting turnouts in the arrangement!”

Order Erja Lyytinen’s Diamonds on the Road – Live 2023 here.    

Christone “Kingfish” Ingram learned his first guitar licks in an after-school program at the Delta Blues Museum in Clarksdale, Mississippi, the home of the crossroads that many music fans consider hallowed ground. 

Ingram may be known for keeping the traditions of his hometown Delta blues alive, but that’s only half of his story. 

As it happens, influences ranging from psychedelic funk to gospel and hip-hop have their own chapters in it as well. 

Here are the five riffs that shaped his guitar playing...

1. Albert King – "I Play the Blues for You"

“I learned this at the Delta Blues Museum under my teachers Daddy Rich [Richard Crisman] and Bill ‘Howlin’ Madd’ Perry. We would learn different Albert King songs, such as ‘I Play the Blues for You,’ and one of the licks in that song influenced my playing a whole lot, because it was one of the first licks I learned in that blues pentatonic scale that I could use. I worked my way around it, and from that I built up on other stuff.”

2. Funkadelic – "Hit It and Quit It"

“Eddie Hazel is a big inspiration to me. I love his playing. I listened to Maggot Brain almost every day; it’s one of my favorite tunes. I feel like he’s one of the most underappreciated and underrated guitarists, and he’s one of my favorite guys. Funk rock is a big inspiration to my playing, so I owe it all to him.”

3. Robert Petway (in the styles of Muddy Waters and Jimi Hendrix) – "Catfish Blues"

“This is ‘Catfish Blues’ two ways. The first way is the Muddy Waters way. Hendrix took that and made it a little different. I like to alternate between the two – have that traditional sound but still get contemporary every now and again. 

"I’m influenced by a lot of things. Blues music is my first love, obviously, but I’m into rock and classic rock and all sorts of other stuff. I had been playing bass, and I started on guitar around 12 or 13, and I found this Hendrix Smash Hits CD that my mom got me. From that point on, it was right to where I am now.”

4. Nate Dogg – "Never Leave Me Alone"

“I’m a die-hard Nate Dogg fan. He comes from the same city as me in Mississippi, Clarksdale, before he moved to Long Beach [California]. I listened to the bass line and listened hard to the guitar on the record, and this is basically those played together. 

"You can pretty much pull off the song in any instrumentation. My love of Nate Dogg has to do with my love of music all together. I’ve always loved his vocal style. He’s always been one of my favorite singers. I try to do some of my vibrato like him. He had this long, shaky vibrato, and sometimes I like to emulate that.”

5. B.B. King Lick

“This is an old B.B. King lick that sounds very common, but it’s definitely a lick that I love. You can incorporate it into any blues solo in 12 bars. Some of that at the end is stuff I added, but it’s B.B. King influenced. It’s not a particular tune. It’s one of his signature licks that I would add into my playing a lot.”

Visit the Christone "Kingfish" Ingram website for news, music, tour info and more.

In September of 1950, 15-year-old Eddy Harrington (1935-2018) boarded a Greyhound bus in Birmingham, Alabama, a $15 one-way ticket in hand, and embarked on a northern journey that would change his life dramatically.

The migration of Harrington, who’d one day be known as bluesman Eddy “The Chief” Clearwater (pictured above) wasn’t altogether unique, but it was undeniably one with purpose. Between 1900 and 1960, nearly five million other African-Americans did the same thing.

They brought more than their dreams and worldly possessions to Chicago. They brought their culture, and their blues. When Chicago blues came to life in the late ’40s and early ’50s, it was essentially amplified Delta blues worked into the framework of a small band, usually drums, piano, and bass. It eventually grew to encompass a subgenre, West Side blues, which often featured a louder, minor-blues sound anchored by gutbucket guitar.

“I had always heard from many people that Chicago was more like a promised land,” said Clearwater. “That if you wanted to better your life and broaden your horizons, you went to Chicago, because there were so many opportunities, and so many different walks of life. 

"Sweet home Chicago!”

1. “Rollin’ and Tumblin’” by Muddy Waters

Few performers in recorded history in any genre can lay claim to having the kind of impact that Muddy Waters (1913-1983) had on Chicago blues. Powerful, immediate, and uncompromising, Waters’ quintessential Chess recordings stand out as a veritable blueprint for much of the blues guitar discs that followed.

“In his living room [in suburban Westmont, Illinois], I used to play Muddy’s old songs on my portable cassette recorder, just loud enough for him to hear them in the kitchen,” wrote Waters sideman “Steady Rollin’” Bob Margolin in a 1995 article for Blues Revue. “Sipping champagne, he’d enjoy his songs – he said they were like ‘old friends’ – and then he’d come in and start pointing out parts to listen to, or telling stories about the recording sessions. You better believe I remember every word.”

2. “Forty-Four” by Howlin’ Wolf

Chester Arthur Burnett (1910-1976) was born in West Point, Mississippi, and named after President Chester A. Arthur, arrived in Chicago in the winter of 1953. It’s unlikely that any other blues man in history could have been so simultaneously entertaining and downright frightening. At times, the ferocious-sounding Wolf, whose growling voice was augmented by vicious, rhythmic harmonica blasts, tipped the scales at nearly 300 pounds.

Two guitarists, Willie Johnson and Hubert Sumlin – the latter favored single-­note runs and played few chords – were instrumental in Wolf’s art, as was songwriter Willie Dixon, who penned virtually all of the Wolf’s recorded output from 1960 to 1965, including classics like “The Red Rooster,” “Spoonful” and “Back Door Man.” 

3. “Damn Right I’ve Got the Blues” by Buddy Guy

In 2023, Chicago is still Buddy Guy’s turf. And when it comes to onstage action, the 86-year­-old Guy has few contemporary peers. 

It’s hard to believe there was a time when the Louisiana native couldn’t even find a worthwhile record deal. He went through most of the ’80s without a domestic release to his credit. But, difficult commercial periods aside (Guy still laments radio’s reluctance to give his music more airplay), his legacy and reputation as a formidable stage presence remain completely intact. 

This tune, from 1991’s Grammy-winning comeback album of the same name, marked the beginning of a resurgence that Guy enjoys to this day.

4 “Funky Bitch” by Son Seals

It’s hard to deny the blues credentials of a man who’d had a leg amputated (due to diabetes) and been shot in the jaw. But Son Seals’ recorded work is all he ever needed. 

Hound Dog Taylor may be the most important artist in the history of Alligator Records, but Arkansas native Seals was only a small step behind. His early releases for the label, which proudly endure, demonstrate his stinging, staccato guitar style. 

“Funky Bitch,” which first appeared on 1978’s incendiary Live & Burning, was given new life by Phish on 1999’s Hampton Comes Alive. Frontman Trey Anastasio also lent his guitar work to a new version of the song that Seals cut for Lettin’ Go, a 2000 release for Telarc. 

Sadly, Seals died in 2004 from complications of diabetes.

5. “Soul Fixin’ Man” by Luther Allison

Few players blended soul, rock, and funk sounds into blues as well as the late Luther Allison, who was possibly at the top of his game when he was diagnosed with inoperable cancer in July 1997. He died in a Wisconsin hospital a month later.

Allison’s unlikely comeback, hatched in 1994, was more than a bit dramatic. He’d been living in France since 1980 (he enjoyed steady work in Europe), and American bookings were few and far between. But by the mid-’90s, Allison was born again. 

Soul Fixin’ Man, from 1994, his first American recording in nearly two decades, signified his triumphant studio return, and Blue Streak, released late the following year, kept Allison’s fiery, stinging guitar and gritty vocals front and center. 

He would soon become a festival favorite, and that momentum continued through 1997’s Reckless, released just months before his passing.

6. “I Just Want a Little Bit” by Magic Sam

B.B. King (1925-2015) had the honor of closing the inaugural Ann Arbor Blues Festival in August 1969, but many contend that Magic Sam – whose last name was Maghett – actually stole the show, despite showing up more than an hour late for his afternoon set and performing with only a bassist and a borrowed drummer. 

Sadly, the 32-year-old Mississippi native – whose family had moved to Chicago in 1950 – was dead by the first day of December that year, the victim of a heart attack. At the time of his death, his rising star was short of its apex. In 1967, he’d released his seminal West Side Soul, a record that still sounds fresh and vibrant. The following year he delivered Black Magic, yet another engaging soul-­blues elixir.

“When I first heard his records on WGES [Chicago’s premier black radio station in the ’40s and ’50s], I thought his sound was so different from any blues that I’d ever heard,” said Eddy Clearwater. “The sound that he made with his guitar, with the tremolo sound and minor-sounding chords. And he had this vibrato in his voice that coincided with what he was playing. It was just a different kind of approach to the entire thing.”

7. “All Your Love (I Miss Loving)” by Otis Rush

Otis Rush (1934-2018) remembered visiting his sister, who was already living in Chicago, in 1949 or 1950, from his Philadelphia, Mississippi home. He promptly decided to stay, influenced by the blues legends his sister took him to see: Muddy Waters, harp master Little Walter, and Jimmy Rogers, among others. 

“Man, after one of those first shows, I went out and bought me a little cheap guitar called a Kay,” he recalled. ”And that amplifier was so light, you’d play a note and it would almost jump off the floor and dance. I’d start practicing, and I just went from there. 

"I started tryin’ to make those sounds that they was makin.’ I was up on the third floor of 3101 Wentworth in Chicago, South Side. The neighbors wanted to call the police on me, mad at me for making that noise. I was like, ‘Man, I’m tryin’ to learn how to play this guitar like Muddy Waters!"

8. “Two Bugs and a Roach” by Earl Hooker

Earl Hooker was only 41 years old when he died of tuberculosis in 1969. But he left an enduring legacy of precision slide playing, sporting a feathery touch that produced a clean, polished sound. 

A former sideman as well – you can hear his slide handiwork on Muddy Waters’ Chess classic “You Shook Me” – Hooker’s true sound, at least according to some who jammed with him and saw him play live, was never truly captured. 

Recalled Eddy Clearwater: “Earl Hooker was a mean son of a bitch with the guitar. Mean! He’d make sounds with that slide that would make your hair stand up. For some reason, they never captured him on record the way he really sounded, and I wish they would have.... There was much more to Earl Hooker than has ever been heard on record.”

9. “Night Rock” by Jimmy Dawkins

Jimmy Dawkins was one of a dwindling number of old­-school West Side blues talents when he died April 10, 2013. Like Eddy Clearwater, he left the South for Chicago on a Greyhound bus. (In Dawkins’ case, it was a ride out of Mississippi, in 1955.) 

His 1969 Delmark debut, Fast Fingers, is considered among his finest efforts. The album came about after Magic Sam introduced Dawkins to label boss Bob Koester. A 1971 follow-up, All for Business, featured Otis Rush on second guitar.

“Night Rock” appears on Fast Fingers, which, incidentally, is probably not an ideal album title: Dawkins’ playing, tasteful and soulful, is hardly rapid-fire, and seldom over the top.

10. “55th Street Boogie” by Hound Dog Taylor

This quote from slide master Theodore Roosevelt “Hound Dog” Taylor (1915-1975) is hardly new, but it bears repeating nonetheless: “When I die, they’ll say, ‘He couldn’t play shit, but he sure made it sound good.‘“

Indeed, the six-fingered Taylor made it sound good – simple, joy-inducing, party­-starting, slide-heavy blues played in open tunings. 

“Hound Dog and [Houserockers band mate] Brewer Phillips pushed their guitars and amps into rough-edged distortion,” wrote Alligator Records founder Bruce Iglauer in the liner notes to Release the Hound, a wonderfully infectious collection of live Taylor performances. ”For them, the best volume setting was always 10.” 

“55th Street Boogie,” one of Taylor’s many magical moments, can be found on Alligator’s first-ever release, Taylor and the Houserockers.

Introduced in 1954, the Fender Stratocaster has long been an electric guitar of choice for blues players. Some of the guitar’s earliest proponents include bluesmen Buddy Guy and Otis Rush, while Jimi Hendrix helped repopularize the Strat in the late ‘60s with his decidedly psychedelic take on the blues.

Since then, a host of blues guitar heroes have championed this iconic solidbody, including Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Johnson and Joe Bonamassa.

From Jimmie Vaughan, Doyle Bramhall II and Kenny Wayne Shepherd to Robert Cray and Bonnie Raitt – here are five of the best under-the-radar guitar solos performed by Strat-toting blues players…

1. “Tuff Enuff” by the Fabulous Thunderbirds from ‘Tuff Enuff’ (1986)

Guitarist: Jimmie Vaughan

The other Vaughan is as cool as the other side of the pillow, especially compared to his fire-spitting brother. They both favor Strats, but the similarities pretty much end there. Jimmie rarely plays fast or dirty, and is never flash. He mostly sticks to stabbing single notes within a traditional framework giving them plenty of space to breathe.

Jimmie Vaughan reminds us that less notes can certainly mean more, and his solo on the title track from the Fabulous Thunderbirds’ 1986 album Tuff Enuff is a shining example.

Vaughan doesn’t usually do effects, but in this instance shimmering reverb and delay add remarkable depth to his sparse phrasing. It’s hard to find better evidence of a pure blues solo building a perfect bridge to a crossover hit. 

2. “Cry” by Doyle Bramhall II from ‘Welcome’ (2001)

Guitarist: Doyle Bramhall II

If ever there was a guy to get a handle on the SRV attitude and fire without copping Stevie’s licks, it’s Doyle Bramhall II.

On this slow 12/8 number, Bramhall gets all kinds of righteous Strat tones, including spooky tremolo, clanging semi cleans, and a positively massive, exploding-amp lead tone.

He does a killer, thematic break mid-tune but saves his best stuff for the end of the song. For the outro solo he coaxes awesome, howling feedback before leaning into his powerful bends that are jam-packed with emotion. His note choices and phrasing as fresh as always – due in part to playing lefty-strung-righty – but Bramhall’s super-deep pocket might be his greatest asset. 

3. “Blue on Black” by Kenny Wayne Shepherd from ‘Trouble Is...’ (1997)

Guitarist: Kenny Wayne Shepherd

When Louisiana native Kenny Wayne Shepherd broke big while still a teenager in the mid ’90s, he was heralded as the next Stevie Ray Vaughan.

Of course, nobody is ever the next SRV, but Shepherd’s highly rhythmic southern Strat histrionics clearly owe a debt to Austin’s patron guitar player. And like SRV, KWS has a knack for turning stock blues licks into memorable, melodic moments via clever phrasing.

You know a player – especially a bluesman – believes he’s made a statement when he sticks close to the recorded version of a solo onstage night after night, year after year. “Blue on Black” is case in point. It’s hook-laden licks get under your skin and stick in your brain whether it’s the original version on 1997’s Trouble Is…, or 2010’s Live! In Chicago. 

4. “Chicken in the Kitchen” by the Robert Cray Band from ‘Cookin' in Mobile’ (2010)

Guitarist: Robert Cray

Though he owes much of his success to a fairly slick, mainstream crossover sound, Robert Cray can play no-holds-barred blues with the best of them.

Recorded live, “Chicken in the Kitchen” (on Cookin’ in Mobile) not only features some of the most beautiful, sparkly, out-of-phase Strat tone you’ll ever hear, it also has not one but two great solos.

Number two, especially, is full of incredibly cohesive lines with blindsiding surprises, occasionally getting close enough to the edge that you start worrying whether Cray will make it out alive. 

5. “Three Time Loser” by Bonnie Raitt from ‘Sweet Forgiveness’ (1977)

Guitarist: Bonnie Raitt

While blues and contemporary pop are not always an easy coupling, Bonnie Raitt has been interlacing the two for decades now with consistently cool results.

This track from her 1977 album Sweet Forgiveness is a high water mark. The chord progression here has nothing to do with the customary 12-bar form, but Raitt’s supernatural slide work infuses the song with deep blues feeling.

Nobody else can make a quarter-tone glissando sound so expansive, and her overdriven Strat tone burns – the way whiskey does going down your gullet. Listen close to hear her widen her vibrato and pluck harmonics in the final rideout.

Pure swagger.

The blues has proved to be a supremely versatile and durable musical genre for generations.

Sanctimonious purists may decry modern musicians who mix their blues in a cocktail of divergent musical influences, but that sort of intermingling has played a vital role in the genre’s history.

From its origins in the Deep South, the blues spread throughout the U.S., taking root in various regions where it blossomed into such forms as Piedmont, swamp and hill country. It became electrified in Texas and the West Coast, and in urban markets like Detroit, Chicago, Memphis and Kansas City.

By the 1960s, the blues had spread to England – where it eventually merged with rock and roll, courtesy of guitarists like Eric Clapton, Peter Green and Jimmy Page.

Wherever it traveled, the music served as a pliable form that could be shaped to serve the expression of those who played it. Thanks to its malleability, the blues is both diverse and pervasive, though, oddly, it tends to lurk just below the radar of popular culture.

Lately, however, its signal has strengthened once again, thanks to a growing number of six-string practitioners. Not surprisingly, given the blues’ history, many contemporary artists are merging the genre’s traditional forms with other styles.

Guitarist Samantha Fish is a stylistic rolling stone who’s woven a path from Delta blues to traditional blues-rock to hill country blues.

She’s also revealed her range by delving into classic soul and Americana, and even covered tunes by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Black Sabbath.

Her musical beginnings were, as she says, “all over the map”; it was only through the blues that it all came together for her.

Filmed during the summer of 2021 prior to the release her studio album, Faster, and narrated by NPR’s Gwen Thompkins, the Love Letters: Samantha Fish Live from New Orleans documentary and concert special offers insight into the career of one of today’s most vital blues artists.

I purchased Muddy Waters’ Chess Blues Masters Series around 1978, when I was a mere 20 years old.

This great double-record set was originally released in 1971 as McKinley Morganfield a.k.a. Muddy Waters and is a compilation of many classic Muddy recordings spanning 1950 to 1956.

At the time, I had enjoyed a few of the great bluesman’s tracks, but when I saw this album’s cartoonish cover, I knew it was the LP for me.

Soon after buying it, I became a Muddy Waters disciple. I listened to him at home and when I drove, and if I was going over to a friend’s house to play Monopoly, I’d bring a Muddy Waters cassette.

Basically, if I was awake, I was listening to Muddy Waters.

Muddy is known as the father of modern Chicago electric blues, and his singing and songwriting have made indelible marks on our musical culture.

The Beatles, the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan each owe a debt to him. When the Beatles first visited the United States in 1964, John Lennon said he wanted to meet Muddy and went on to mention him by name in his song “Come Together.”

“She’s All Right” is the first track from this record that I’ll spin for the uninitiated.

It features a repetitive riff that speeds up perfectly as the band’s emotion grows to a fury. The lyrics swell in intensity too: Muddy sings, “I could’ve had religion” and “Let the poor boy pray,” while the band digs in even harder.

It’s so raw, it’s bloody.

On the other hand, “The Same Thing” plays like a great pop song, with strong hooks and an almost film noir atmosphere, as Muddy sings, “What makes a man go crazy when a woman wears a dress so tight.”

“Rollin’ Stone,” “I Just Want to Make Love to You,” “Rolling and Tumbling,” “Long Distance Call,” “I’m Ready,” “She Moves Me,” “Kind Hearted Woman” and many other tracks included in this set are, in my opinion, masterpieces.

The musicians on these tracks include Little Walter, Willie Dixon, James Cotton, Otis Span and Tat Harris, to name a few, and they play a big role in transporting Muddy to another plane.

Little Walter’s crying harmonica is a large part of that trajectory. He and many of the sidemen are credible solo artists in their own right.

Additionally, Chess Records cofounder Leonard Chess (credited here with playing bass drum) once noted in an interview that a typical Muddy Waters recording session was packed with attractive female fans.

That might explain why many of the performances are so earthy, seductive and interactive.

Sure, it’s the singing and songs that matter most, but in my opinion, Muddy’s guitar work is vital as well. Playing the iconic red Telecaster he used for most of his career, he picked out slide licks so emotive that they transcended melody and became pure feeling.

His “take no prisoners” approach to soloing still inspires me to say something meaningful – to throw out the scale/theory book and get my fingers dirty.

And I’ve always been impressed by the rhythmic approach of these tracks, which often combine a straight feel and a swing feel.

I love how his band switches between the two without it being obvious or sounding manufactured, like they’re working some ancient magic.

Muddy Waters records are still my favorite blues music, and if I had to choose one blues album to take to a desert island, this set would be my first choice.

Joanna Connor came up in the tough and competitive 1980s Chicago blues scene.

Her 1989 debut album, Believe It, hit the community like a hurricane and quickly established her as one of the top blues slide guitarists in the world.

At the time, you could count female blues players on one hand, Bonnie Raitt being the most well known. Unlike Raitt, Connor was a shredder who played with as much aggression and technique as most of the dudes.

She’s spent the past decades playing close to home and raising her kids while tending to a residency at Kingston Mines, one of the most popular and well-attended gigs in the Windy City.

Connor’s latest album, 4801 South Indiana Avenue is out on Joe Bonamassa’s KTBA Records.

You have the image of someone who’s really tough.

It’s because of the way I play. I’ve had to be tough to a certain point. I’m not a girly girl – I’ve never been. I’ve always been a tomboy, and I still am. You have to see me play. It’s just the way I feel when I do it.

And the Chicago scene, well, that’s a whole culture unto itself. You had to be tough to play there. You had to be streetwise to a certain degree. It was hard.

Were you intimidated walking into that scene?

I wasn’t intimidated by anything. I was just determined. I like Zeppelin, Buddy Guy and all these really heavy-duty cats.

When I was a kid, I was into sports, and I used to want to be a baseball player. I was shocked when I learned girls couldn’t play in the major leagues. I thought girls got the short end of the stick, so I just made up my mind that if there was something I wanted to do, I was going to do it and no one was going to stop me.

My mom was pretty radical – she’s the reason. She brought music into the house. She took me to see blues and reggae and rock when I was a real little kid, and she was into women’s liberation. So she was always telling me to do my own thing.

Tell me about your rig.

For my amp, I use either a Roland JC-120, a Peavey Chorus 400 from the early ’80s or a Victoria Cherry Bomb.

My pedals are simple: Boss Blues Driver, Boss Super Chorus and MXR Carbon Copy Analog Delay.

I still mainly use my trusty 1990 Les Paul Classic 60 reissue and a Dean Performer E acoustic-electric. I also use a Mexican-made Fender Strat.

Do you practice?

I don’t practice a lot, but I kind of analyze my playing a lot more now. Something just happened with my ear and the way I see the guitar neck. I listen to a lot of fusion and different things now, and I feel more confident in my playing.

You felt you had to prove yourself in your early days. How are things now?

I felt that way for years. It took me about 15 years to get respect. I’ve pretty much played with everybody, so I’m kind of established now, and a lot of the older guys are gone, so the new generation has taken over.

In Chicago, everybody knows me, and I’ve gotten to the level to where they just go, “That’s Joanna. She can play.”

I don’t have that, “Oh, I want everybody to love me” feeling. It’s more like, “Okay, now it’s time to kick some ass!”

For more information on Joanna Connor, visit joannaconnorwreckingcrew.com.

When I began interviewing women guitarists in 2001, Del Rey topped my list of players to speak with.

Born Della Rey, she grew up in San Diego and started playing guitar at age four. By the time she hit her teens, Del had already discovered pre-war blues and been mentored by Mississippi blues legend Sam Chatmon.

Over the decades she has become adept in many blues guitar styles and in advanced ukulele technique.

Del is also one of the foremost experts on the history of women and guitar. When not touring or teaching, she conducts lectures on Women in American Music and Women with Guitar.

You started playing guitar at the age of four. Do you have any recollection of it?

Yes, I have a pretty good memory from even before that, but I really started to play seriously when I was introduced to the music of Memphis Minnie and when I met Sam Chatmon at 13.

I had been introduced to these Memphis Minnie Blues Classics volumes 1 and 2 [released in 1964 and 1967, respectively, on the Blues Classics label]. I had been listening to those and learning songs by ear, so when I saw Sam, I noticed he played in a style that had a lot in common with Memphis Minnie’s. It was that down-home, song-oriented style, rather than the heavy Delta style.

Why do you think there haven’t been more women guitarists?

I think there’s a ton of them that people just ignore, like Mary Osborne [active in jazz from the mid 1930s until her death in 1992]. Who knows about her? And she’s a great guitar player. You go through the history of jazz and her name never comes up.

Women were either actively discouraged from performing or had to consciously overcome so many boundaries that made it harder for them. 

Vahdah Olcott-Bickford, the founder of the American Guitar Society, was also a very influential performer. She published, like, 140 reference books. There were two Martin guitars named after her. She was very well known, all through the 1920s and ’30’s.

The history of jazz guitar should include Mary Osborne. A history of guitar in general should include Vahdah Olcott-Bickford. She is about as statured in that music as Memphis Minnie is in blues.

I mean, how can you make a cult figure of Robert Johnson, who recorded 30 sides, and ignore Memphis Minnie, who recorded 200? Get over it already!

The more I know about the 1920s and ’30s, the more informed I am about what’s going on now. That’s what I like about it. When I was a little girl, I didn’t know there were any other women guitar players, but my students now know about them. Girls today are so much more informed than girls of our generation, or our mothers’.

Do you find that there are more female guitarists now?

I think there’s an onset of everything female. Girls are just empowered to do whatever they want to do now. If they want to go out and get a job, they do that. 

If they want to be an artist of whatever kind, they can find a place to be that. 

It’s a good thing.

Browse Del Rey’s extensive catalog at Hobemian Records here.

Visit Del Rey’s website here.

For more information about Sue Foley, visit suefoley.com.

Born Lizzie Douglas in Louisiana in 1897, Memphis Minnie rocked the blues with guitar in hand and a voice both honeyed and forceful.

She ran away to Memphis at 13 and honed her talent as a powerhouse singer, guitarist and writer of earthy blues tunes.

As skilled, charismatic and raunchy as her many male peers, Minnie challenged their monopoly on the genre with her songs and performances.

She moved to Chicago in the ’30s, where she famously beat Big Bill Broonzy in a cutting contest on his own turf.

Minnie’s early sides with her partner Wilbur "Kansas Joe" McCoy (1905-1950) secured her legend and made more than a few male artists richer.

She and McCoy cut “Bumble Bee” (a huge hit that inspired Muddy Waters’ “Honey Bee”), “If You See My Rooster” (which Willie Dixon remade as “Little Red Rooster”) and “When the Levee Breaks,” which Led Zeppelin famously appropriated for their fourth album in 1971.

"There are so many classics from way back which we can give a little of ourselves to take them through the years," singer Robert Plant told Melody Maker in the mid-‘70s.

“That’s one thing about blues – you can do more or less anything, around a very vague shell,” he later explained to the Guardian. “And the more of it you do, the better you get until at the end there’s very few boundaries to it at all, and yet it’s all very tight.

On her own, Minnie enjoyed numerous hits, including 1941’s “Me and My Chauffeur Blues.” She took up electric guitar as early as 1942 and began laying down the kind of gritty electric blues guitar Muddy Waters wouldn’t play for another few years.

Although ill health forced her to retire in the ’50s, Minnie got her due in the ’60s blues and folk revival and through covers of her music by Jefferson Airplane and Led Zeppelin.

She spent her last years in a nursing home and died penniless in 1973. She’s buried in Walls, Mississippi, under a tombstone paid for by her fan and musical beneficiary Bonnie Raitt.

Order the Memphis Minnie Essential Recordings here.

***The following interview extract originally appeared in the November 2018 issue of Guitar Player***

On most musical matters, Lamb of God co-guitarists Mark Morton and Willie Adler couldn’t be more different from one another.

Morton is an avowed blues-rock aficionado who counts the likes of Jimmy Page, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Billy Gibbons and Jimi Hendrix as his biggest influences.

Adler, on the other hand, is a hardcore metal guy who never met a Dimebag Darrell riff he didn’t embrace.

Morton analyzes and dissects the modes and scales of his melodic, blues-tinged leads, while Adler “plays from the gut,” impulsively throwing in atonal noise and dissonant chords of his own invention.

The blend of their unique styles and approaches has helped to turn the Richmond, Virginia-based outfit into one of the most powerful (and biggest-selling) forces in the New Wave of American Heavy Metal movement.

“Mark and I have always had something of a deep-seated rivalry, or I guess you could call it a friendly competition,” Adler says. “But our bond is the success of this band, and we work together toward that goal.”

When it comes to metal tone, the two axmen have very different approaches to their craft. Yet they agree that tone is as personal and individual as a fingerprint.

“I think it has everything to do with the guitarist,” Morton says. “Tone is all in a player’s hands – the way they pick, how they fret the strings, their articulation. I know for a fact that Willie and I can play the same guitar plugged into the same amp and we’re going to sound totally different.

“Our tones are unique because it’s all about us. It’s not our gear.”

Adler agrees. “You can write out my parts and have a guy sit down and play them, but he’s never going to sound like me,” he says. “Only I can sound like me, and only Mark can sound like Mark.

“That’s the way it should be. What’s good for one guy might be totally unacceptable for another player.

"And it might have to do with what kind of music they’re playing, too. Some tones might sound cool for surf music, but they’d sound horrible in a metal band.”

Do you feel that metal guitar players are so focused on achieving an over-powering sound on record that they sometimes lose the actual tone of the guitar itself?

Mark Morton: Totally. That’s why I’m so adamant about using passive pickups, and I’ll give a plug here to my signature pickup, the DiMarzio Dominion.

I’ve played some great active pickups, but they just don’t do the same job as passive ones. Actually, that’s the problem: They do exactly the same job all the time, meaning you can put them on a skateboard and it’ll sound like a Les Paul with the same pickup.

To me, you’re not playing a guitar anymore; you’re playing a pickup.

Willie Adler: Bad tone on a record is almost a cumulative thing, which we used to be guilty of. It’s this notion of “Let’s just add as many tracks as we can to make it huge.”

In our minds, more guitars makes things heavier, but in reality you lose elements of the actual guitar.

It becomes this big wall of saturation. And when you have a bunch of guitars with scooped-out mids, it’s just bad. It doesn’t even sound like guitars anymore.

With that in mind, do you think that a unique metal tone is sometimes harder to achieve than, say, a blues or a country tone?

Morton: Maybe. I’ve always considered myself a very happily misplaced blues player. I’m a blues guitarist in a metal band, but I think that’s what helps contribute to our sound.

My approach to tone doesn’t change whether I’m playing with a blues band or Lamb of God. I usually use the same amp, a Mesa/Boogie Mark IV, though sometimes I use the Mark V.

But my playing might change a bit. I’ll use a different sort of attack with my right hand; I might squash or crunch the strings, or I might play a little lighter. Again, it’s about how I play and not as much about the amp.

Adler: That’s hard for me to say, because I’ve only had a metal tone. It can be pretty hard to get a good metal tone, but I don’t know if it’s more difficult than dialing up a decent sound for country or blues or what not.

To me, authenticity is the key. If you sound pure, then you’ve got something going. If you can go out onstage and be stoked about your sound, the chances are good that you’re doing something right.

Did the two of you ever sit down and talk about your choices of brands and instruments and how they work together?

Morton: We’ve never had that discussion. We just found the instruments we were comfortable with, but we didn’t A/B them.

I know I keep saying this, but the way we sound together really has more to do with our playing techniques, not the guitars or gear we use.

Adler: It was never verbally stated like, “Yo, dude, you have to play that guitar – I’m playing this one.” We’ve always kind of gravitated toward opposite ends of things. I think it was kind of understood that I’m not going to play Jacksons, and he’s definitely not going to play ESPs.

Not that either one is bad for the other dude, or whatever. We just do our own thing.

Morton: We try not to sound like each other. If I hear Willie getting a certain sound, I might dial up something that goes somewhere else.

We want our sounds to sit on top of each other. They shouldn’t be a big mush of the same sound.

Pedalpocalypse – the popular show from Guitar Player, MusicRadar and Guitar World – returns for the final time.

Produced in L.A. by British guitarist Robin Davey and Growvision, this last instalment really is a stompbox apocalypse – as far as blues guitar veteran Walter Trout is concerned, anyway.

"I just don't see any need for pedals,” says the Strat-wielding blues rocker with a nod to his trusty old Mesa/Boogie Mark IV tube amp. “I have this theory that if you get a kickass amplifier, why would you put it through a $100 pedal?”

In each episode of Pedalpocalypse, we asked guitar players, “If you could only take three pedals with you into lockdown, which ones would they be?”

“None,” underscores Trout.

A true old school blues club performer, Trout used to goose the front end of his Fender Super Reverb with an Electro-Harmonix LPB-1 Linear Power Booster.

Introduced in late 1968, the LPB-1 plug-in device was Electro-Harmonix’s debut product and is, strictly speaking, not a pedal.

Nowadays, the LPB-1 is available from EHX in pedal format, however.

"When I started playing in bars in the middle-to-late '60s, pedals didn't exist," Trout recalls. "At the time, I was playing through a Fender Super Reverb (which I still have out in my garage) and I wanted to get a little more out of it.

“At that time a pedal came out by Electro Harmonix called an LPB-1. It was just a gain boost and it plugged right into the input on your amp. It stuck out from the front of the amp – it was very elemental and kind of primitive – but I would plug that into the Super.”

Trout discovered the joys of cascading gain in the 1980s during his John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers years.

"When I discovered Mesa/Boogies while I was with John Mayall, I realised that basically it's a Fender that's been very souped-up and modified and the overdrive is built into the amp."

So how does the guitarist manage to squeeze out such a broad range of tones from his amp?

"I control it all with the volume button," he tells us. "I have the amp set on Channel 3, which is the high-gain channel. I have the gain all the way up and I'm controlling the cleanliness and the whole thing with the volume on the guitar and I play all the time with my pinky wrapped around the volume button."

Order Walter Trout's most recent album, Ride, here. 

Visit the Walter Trout website for the latest news, tour dates and tickets. 

If music were food, pop would be the versatile meal that’s ready in 10 minutes and can be effortlessly modified for every diet or preference. Blues, on the other hand, would be the slow-simmering dish that’s prepared rigorously and religiously, with strict adherence to ingredients and tradition.

The line for it might not be as long as that for pop, but you can bet its patrons will be experienced aficionados who know the real deal when they see it. It’s this authenticity that makes blues both enduring and slow to change.

Roughly every 20 years or so, a blues wave arrives, delivering a burst of activity that nudges the genre ever so slightly in a new direction. We are in just such a movement right now, brought about by a new generation of guitarists who are infusing the genre with their own ideas about blues.

Notably, some of them are getting assistance from more experienced hands like Joe Bonamassa and Dan Auerbach, who were at the heads of previous blues explosions. All of which just goes to prove that the community is alive and well, and creating a wealth of new music that will keep the blues alive and evolving at its own steady pace.

Earlier this year, we asked you to help us pick 25 players from the new breed of blues guitarists who are among your favorites. In addition to featuring the top four – Marcus King, Christone “Kingfish” Ingram, Larkin Poe and GA-20 – we’ve profiled your remaining selections.

Hopefully you’ll find your favorites among the players here. But we bet you’ll also discover some new leading lights who will shape your own view of blues today, and in the future…

1. ALLY VENABLE

Texan Ally Venable has, unsurprisingly, more than a hint of Stevie Ray Vaughan about her playing. Brandishing a distinctive pink Les Paul, she delivers an interpretation of SRV’s classic “Lenny” and makes the tune her own with her fantastically facile technique, seamlessly blending flash-bomb explosions of furiously fast soloing with deep, biting phrases that drip with emotion, courtesy of her powerful vibrato.

Besides being a gifted guitarist, the 23-year-old has a voice imbued with tone and phrasing that belie her tender years. Venable released her fourth album, Heart of Fire, in 2021, to universally positive reviews. The list of blues notables queuing up to guest with her, both live and on record, is further proof, if any were needed, that she is an artist with the potential to significantly broaden her audience beyond the traditional blues markets. – MM

2. ERIC JOHANSON

Known mostly as an electric guitar whiz with a sweet slide game, Eric Johanson had a pair of albums under his belt – his Tab Benoit-produced 2017 debut, Burn It Down, and the raucous Luther Dickinson-helmed Below Sea Level album – when COVID hit. Rather than take time off, he kept his roll going online with weekly live-streamed acoustic guitar performances, featuring covers performed with stripped-down, loop-based arrangements, where he avoided vibe-killing click tracks in favor of organic scratch-guitar loops triggering drum tones.

Since then, Johanson has made a pair of records, Covered Tracks: Vol. 1 and Vol. 2, that showcase his fantastic acoustic and electric leads and tasty slide work on a resonator. His take on everything from southern rockers Marshall Tucker and the Allman Brothers to Fiona Apple and Nine Inch Nails is fresh, and it’s bound to inspire plenty of acoustic players. – JL

3. DAVY KNOWLES

Sure, Davy Knowles has performed alongside Jeff Beck, Peter Frampton, Joe Bonamassa and Warren Haynes, among numerous other guitar talents. But he’s got major bragging rights that nobody else can claim: Back in 2010, Knowles became the first musician to play live directly to the International Space station from NASA’s Mission Control.

With his fiery finesse (accented with an unmistakable Celtic flair) and paint-peeling tone, Knowles turned heads when his band Back Door Slam debuted with 2007’s Roll Away, but by 2009’s Coming Up for Air, the group had been renamed Davy Knowles and Back Door Slam.

As an official solo artist, he’s released a number of albums, including 2021’s What Happens Next, a brilliant collection of blues, rock and soul originals highlighted by the deep-pocket groover “Hell to Pay,” on which he pays tribute to the songwriting and guitar playing of Steve Cropper. – JB

4. JARED JAMES NICHOLS

Don’t ever try handing Jared James Nichols a pick – he’ll look at you like you’re from another planet. Using just his two bare hands, the Wisconsin native (who now calls Nashville home) practically beats his “Old Glory” Les Paul into submission, firing off white-hot riffs and blizting sheets of blues-based shred solos, all at beyond max volume. As he told MusicRadar, “When I pick up the guitar, with the way that I want to play and approach it, it’s physical. I am committed to the act of playing.”

Nichols started out playing classic rock, but he switched to the blues when he heard Stevie Ray Vaughan and Albert King. After witnessing Zakk Wylde and Leslie West in concert, he adopted his “go-for-the throat” technique and attitude.

Nichols leads a barnstorming power trio under his own name, and since 2015 he’s released a series of albums and EPs, the latest being last year’s gutbucket blaster Shadow Dancer. – JB

5. QUINN SULLIVAN

Quinn Sullivan wasn’t born with a guitar in his hands, but almost. Taking up the instrument at age three, the Massachusetts native sparked to the music of the Beatles before discovering the blues. By age six, he was a prodigy, appearing on The Ellen DeGeneres Show and jamming with his biggest influence – and, soon after, mentor – Buddy Guy.

On his first album, Cyclone (issued when he was all of 14), Sullivan acquitted himself as a remarkably exciting and expressive blues soloist. By his next album, Getting There, he began to blossom as a vocalist and songwriter. This was evident on his third album, 2017’s Midnight Highway, which saw him embrace elements of soul and Americana while not forsaking the blues (his eight-minute “Buffalo Nickel” is a guitar tour de force).

With 2021’s Wide Awake, he went even further, demonstrating an affinity for pop, funk, R&B and Laurel Canyon-influenced folk rock on a set of mature, reflective tunes laced with bravura guitar work. – JB

6. JACKIE VENSON

Jackie Venson isn’t afraid of technology. On her genre-blending blues albums, the Austin guitarist and Berklee College of Music graduate combines tones from synths and samplers to create funky, futuristic-sounding songs. When performing, she’s happy to bring the tech to the fans. “I perform with samplers now,” she told Guitar Player in 2019. “I load the samples and the stems from the actual record onto the sampler and use them live.”

Venson belongs to a new generation of artists who take a fearless attitude to songwriting and arranging. Her winning approach has connected with audiences across the country and seen her open on tour for fellow Austin native Gary Clark Jr. She also earned the title of Best Guitarist at the Austin Music Awards, making her just the third woman in 37 years, as well as the first African-American woman, to do so.

With six full-length albums to her credit, she remains a blues powerhouse to watch. – MT

7. ERIC STECKEL

Eric Steckel was a child blues guitar prodigy who recorded with John Mayall when he was 12 and toured with him the following year, as well as contributed to Mayall’s 2005 Road Dogs album. But Steckel’s influences go beyond the usual players to include “the ones that pushed the envelope and opened eyes and ears to the greatness of the genre,” he explains. They include Gary Moore, SRV, EVH, Zakk Wylde and Duane Allman.

Steckel’s progressive blues approach finds him incorporating ’80s hard rock and modern metal elements into his blues, while his choice of gear – high-gain amps, and no pedals – is as unique to blues as his use of metal and hard rock right-hand technique and pinch harmonics.

To hear what he’s all about, just check out “Solid Ground” from Grandview Drive, the song he called “the quintessential blues-metal track that sums up my approach, tone, vibe and style in one song.” – MT

8. TYLER BRYANT 

Hailing from Paris, Texas, Tyler Bryant moved to Nashville in 2008, a relocation that led him to form Tyler Bryant & the Shakedown the following year. After rapidly building a strong following, they released two EPs in 2011, and by 2012, with the band attracting overwhelmingly strong reviews, they recorded their debut album, Wild Child, at the end of the year.

Upon its release in January 2013, Bryant was hailed as a major new voice in blues guitar who combines the fire and fury of great blues masters like Johnny Winter and Jeff Beck with the songwriting influences of Tom Petty and the Black Crowes.

On 2022’s Shake the Roots, Tyler Bryant and the Shakedown showcase a distinctive change in style by featuring many acoustic slide songs. Bryant continues to expand upon the traditional blues-rock vocabulary while retaining enough familiar touchstones to keep traditionalists happy. – MM

9. KING SOLOMON HICKS

Active on New York City’s blues scene for more than a decade, 27-year-old King Solomon Hicks found blues music wanting in the Big Apple, “so a lot of my inspiration came from listening to records,” he explains. “Thanks to YouTube, I’ve spent countless hours watching the three Kings, as well as some modern players who are equally amazing, like Eric Gales, Joanne Shaw Taylor and Tyler Bryant.”

Harlem, his 2020 11-track debut, brims with soulful, biting guitar work that crackles with energy and taste. He has the smooth savvy of Robert Cray and B.B. King, but he can also dig in like Chuck Berry, as he does on “Every Day I Have the Blues,” when his guitar barks out lead licks graced with a rich vibrato.

Hicks says he wants people to feel like they’re in a juke joint when hearing his take on the blues, but what makes his playing so noteworthy is that it hits the zone where blues, R&B, jazz and gospel meet. – MT

10. JOANNE SHAW TAYLOR

Introduced to the music of Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Albert Collins by her father, British-born Joanne Shaw Taylor began her professional career at age 14. Two years later, Dave Stewart asked her to join a short-lived band project, after which she recorded her 2009 solo debut, White Sugar, and its 2010 follow-up, Diamonds in the Dirt. Both records were greeted with hosannas from critics, hit high on Billboard’s Top Blues Albums chart, and resulted in major wins at the British Blues Awards.

While continuing her studio output, Taylor established herself as a major concert draw throughout the U.S. and Europe. A forceful blues rock guitarist, Taylor combines a stinging yet lyrical phrasing style with super-overdriven, crunching lead tones. She’s also distinguished herself as powerful vocalist, which she emphasized on her 2021 covers set, The Blues Album, made in collaboration with producers Joe Bonamassa and Josh Smith. – JB

11. JUSTIN JOHNSON

Based in Nashville, slide maestro Justin Johnson has built a formidable brand with a website that sells his CDs, tabs, picks, slides and even the shovel guitars he designs and builds himself. With nearly 1.4 million subscribers to his YouTube channel, Johnson clearly knows what his audience wants. Videos of him fingerpicking astoundingly accurate, forceful, Delta blues on his shovel guitar may seem a little gimmicky, but as a tool in driving viewers to his website they have reaped dividends.

Alongside his own outstanding original instrumentals, Johnson has created a series where he reimagines everything from “Smoke on the Water” to “Purple Rain” as a gutbucket, fingerpicking Delta blues master. His technical prowess and uncanny ability to reinterpret classics from the rock canon, allied to his innate showmanship, have helped him convert his high-profile online presence into a profitable touring career. – MM

12. CHRIS BUCK

Hailing from Wales, Chris Buck has described himself as a “10-year overnight sensation.” Tipped for success way back in 2010, his band the Tom Hollister Trio drew plenty of attention and was even managed by former Guns N’ Roses manager Alan Niven. Unfortunately, things didn’t pan out, and the trio fell apart. Buck himself went on to become a YouTube phenomenon, with his lessons and performances attracting millions of views.

In his playing, Buck eschews flash pyrotechnics for incredibly soulful phrasing and indelibly memorable licks that display his distinctive combination of tone, taste and technique, often channeled through his Yamaha Revstar.

With the release of January Came Close in 2022, the debut album from his band, Cardinal Black, Buck looks primed to take things further with a brand of soulful rock that has all the ingredients for mainstream success. – MM

13. JOSH SMITH

By the age of 14, Josh Smith was playing major blues festivals. Initially combining the flamboyant, furious stylings of Stevie Ray Vaughan with the jazz, country and rockabilly elements of Danny Gatton, he soon brought his own unique identity to his playing.

Closely associated with Joe Bonamassa and his KTBA label, Smith has co-produced notable albums for Larry McCray and Eric Gales, and his own Flat V recording studio has been the setting for recent albums by Joanne Shaw Taylor and Andy Timmons.

Bird of Passage, Smith’s 2022 release, is his most ambitious album to date, featuring big-band jazz arrangements that underpin his wildly eclectic be-bop and blues soloing. The fluidity of Smith’s playing is spectacular, and his ability to wring so many different tones from his Tele within the space of several choruses is a testament to his attention to tonal quality and exquisitely exacting note selection. – MM

14. BRANDON “TAZ” NIEDERAUER

Hailing from New York City, Brandon "Taz" Niederauer began carving out a serious rep from the age of 10 when he appeared on The Ellen Show. By the age of 12, he had appeared on Broadway in School of Rock and soon after made appearances with Derek Trucks and Buddy Guy.

Now just 19, he has managed to distill the essence of Albert King and Band of Gypsys-era Hendrix into his own unique sonic brew, combining supple, fluid, funk-infused soloing, with wide, deep overbends and vibrato-laden phrases played on his blue D’Angelico Atlantic signature model.

Although he has yet to release an album, his YouTube videos make it abundantly clear that he will be a major force in blues for many decades to come. – MM

15. JONTAVIOUS WILLIS

Greenville, Georgia native Jontavious Willis specializes in the kind of Delta blues fingerpicked stylings that Keb’ Mo’ and Taj Mahal brought back to public consciousness. Little wonder that both men have cited Willis as the veritable future of acoustic blues, and were involved in producing his 2020 Grammy-nominated album, Spectacular Class.

Playing six- and 12-string acoustics, Willis nails the authentic vibe of the greatest exponents of the genre, with a warm, engaging vocal as an added bonus. His pre-war blues approach mixes country, ragtime and folk, and Willis isn’t afraid to employ old-time elements such as tuba and clarinet in his recordings – although the live solo renditions demonstrate that he is easily capable of conjuring up an entire orchestra with his own two hands.

Elements of Ry Cooder’s work are evident in Willis’s, and with his prodigious talent, a similar level of recognition should rightly follow. – MM

16. ARTUR MENEZES

Brazilian Artur Menezes has made serious waves in the blues community ever since he released his debut album, Early to Marry, in 2010. His playing is a distinctive blend of fiery, hard-rocking blues that at times borders on shred, combined with an ability to effortlessly switch gears into swinging, jazz grooves. His Brazilian roots add a unique flavor to the mix and further distinguish his playing from that of his contemporaries.

Menezes’ songwriting sparkles as it switches between straight-ahead blues and funk-flavored workouts, and his vocals channel the deep emotional content of his songs as effectively as his guitar playing.

Fading Away, Menezes’ latest album (produced by Josh Smith and featuring a guest appearance from Joe Bonamassa), was a serious step up in both writing and playing. Its arrival laid down a clear marker for his place among the front-runners of the new breed of blues guitar heroes. – MM

17. LAURENCE JONES

“I want to bring blues back and give it my twist,” Laurence Jones said when we first met him back in 2012, at a time when his career was developing rapidly. “Times change and I want to do it in more of a modern way.” He’s certainly succeeded. Since then, the 30-year-old Liverpool-born guitarist has won four British Blues Awards, including “Young Artist of the Year” for three consecutive years, and now has six solo albums under his belt, including his latest, 2022’s Destination Unknown.

Jones regularly draws comparisons to Eric Clapton with his blues-rock riffs and fiery soloing, and while he’s steeped in blues tradition, he’s happy to leave his comfort zone to explore alternative approaches. And lest anyone forget, Jones is also a talented songwriter who crafts tunes that give him an opportunity to explore glam-rock, power ballads and other genres, while keeping the overall theme firmly rooted in the blues. – MT

18. ERJA LYYTINEN

In 2018, Carlos Santana described Finnish slide maestro Erja Lyytinen as the future of blues, and it would be hard to argue with that assessment. Using stinging slide work and a deftly subtle approach, Lyytinen explores new ground in an effort to push back the boundaries of traditional blues. She cites Bonnie Raitt, Koko Taylor and Aretha Franklin among her prime influences, but she’s re-interpreted them into her own distinctive approach by adding elements of early ’70s classic rock.

Lyytinen has maintained a relentless pace of touring and recording for years, particularly in Europe. Live, she likes to stretch things out at times, taking the opportunity to showcase her formidable chops.

Lyytinen’s most recent albums, like 2022’s Waiting for the Daylight, focus on her ability to write strong blues music without merely resorting to the predictable formats. With her spacious, texture-heavy approach to rhythm guitar, and emotional vocals, she may well be the guiding light that leads more European guitarists to American blues. – MM

19. EDDIE 9-VOLT

At age 15, Brooks Mason – a.k.a. Eddie 9-Volt – quit school and set his sights on a career in music without much of a plan B in mind. Fortunately, the Atlanta-born guitarist’s plan A seems to be working out just fine. His self-financed 2019 album, Left My Soul, led to a deal with Ruf Records, and his 2021 follow-up, Little Black Flies, garnered glowing reviews from blues enthusiasts and critics.

Mason’s guitar style draws from a broad mix of influences. He cites Michael Bloomfield as his guiding light, but also mentions Otis Rush, Albert Collins and the three Kings as inspirations. He’s also a formidable slide player in the Elmore James mold, not to mention a powerhouse singer with a striking, high-energy stage presence.

Mason promises that his upcoming third album will be more of an update on American soul, and to that end, he recorded the aptly named record, Capricorn, at the famed Capricorn Studios in Macon, Georgia. – JB

20. MARTIN HARLEY

Welsh blues titan Martin Harley was hailed as a major new voice in acoustic blues guitar when he released his self-titled debut album in 2003, which was imbued with flavorings redolent of Davey Graham and Bert Jansch.

He took a detour from his primarily acoustic approach with 2019’s Roll With the Punches, where he utilized much more electric guitar, as well as retro-vibed instrumentation to create a warm, organic traditional sound.

Recently, Harley has posted a number of videos that showcase his move toward old-time blues with sousaphone bass and vintage Dobro. He’s also been showcasing his slide stylings on custom-made Weissenborn-style guitars, played on the lap with an overhand approach to fretting the notes. One of a handful of acoustic stylists in the predominantly electric world of blues guitar, Harley has successfully forged his own identity as a commanding stylist. – MM

21. AMYTHYST KIAH

When Amythyst Kiah recorded “Black Myself,” her anthem about resilience in the face of racism, for the 2019 collaborative album Songs of Our Native Daughters, the tune’s folk roots were evident. But the more she performed the track, which earned her a Grammy nod for Best American Roots Song, the more she discovered its tougher, blues groove. Re-cut for her 2021 Rounder Records debut, Wary + Strange, “Black Myself” became an electric guitar-driven blues rocker that shows Kiah’s deft ability to transform traditional folk and blues styles.

Between her considerable fingerstyle chops – which led Gibson to enlist her as an ambassador in its Generation program of up-and-coming guitarists – and her genre-crossing talents (she provided vocals for a revised version of Moby’s club staple “Natural Blues” that appears on his album Reprise), Kiah has the talent to go the distance. – MT

You’ve got to hand it to southern siblings. From the Everly Brothers to the Allman Brothers to the Black Crowes’ Robinson Brothers, those connected by blood and music seem to have a consistent knack for taking bits of the American country, folk and blues traditions and distilling them into their own unique brand of rock and roll.

Twelve years into their career, Calhoun, Georgia natives Rebecca and Megan Lovell, co-leaders of the band Larkin Poe, are well on their way to adding their family name to this storied musical legacy.

Lead vocalist/guitarist/mandolinist Rebecca and lap-steel/Dobro specialist/harmony vocalist Megan began their musical journey with their older sister Jessica, as part of the bluegrass act the Lovell Sisters.

When the trio disbanded in 2009, the two younger siblings renamed themselves after their great-great-great-great grandfather, added a rhythm section, relocated to Nashville, and began exploring a sound that drew more from rock and early blues.

They gained notoriety for their reworkings of Delta blues classics, their driving-yet-hook-laden originals, their incendiary live shows, and their clever use of YouTube and social media to build a following.

The group toured extensively, playing festivals around the world. Along the way they notched up several number one albums on the Billboard Blues chart, earned a Grammy nod for Best Contemporary Blues Album in 2020, and performed and/or recorded with the likes of Elvis Costello, T Bone Burnett and Steven Tyler.

For their latest album, Blood Harmony, the sisters have gone fully independent, tracking in their home studio, enlisting Rebecca’s husband, Tyler Bryant (leader of Tyler Bryant and the Shakedown), to co-produce, and releasing it on their own label, Tricki-Woo Records.

Blood Harmony finds the sisters synthesizing early blues influences into modern blues-rock riffs and “bringing them into this century,” Megan says, while maintaining “a deep respect for those who have come before.”

But if there’s another thread that connects the songs on Blood Harmony, it’s the duo’s engagingly infectious riffs: “Every song has to have a guitar hook,” Megan observes. “We are crazy about riffs.”

We sat down with the Lovell sisters to gain insight into their creative process, their individual playing approaches, and their strategies for making a friendly sibling rivalry work for the greater artistic good.

Do you generally write songs separately, or is it a joint collaboration?

REBECCA It’s a little bit of both. There was more collaboration on Blood Harmony than on past albums, because we allotted more time for pre-production. I felt we were able to get into the trenches more as a team for this album, whereas in the past we tended to write separately.

There’s definitely some vulnerability and ego-shelving that’s required when collaborating, but it was really great to be able to spend the extra time working together. As a result, I think this album really defines Larkin Poe with more clarity than we’ve done so far.

MEGAN Our perspective these days is to really take the ego and sibling rivalry out of the writing and editing process and to just let the best idea win. I think it’s made us much more effective as songwriters. Sometimes your first idea isn’t your best, and you have to be willing to come back around and dig back into your songs to make them stronger.

What are some examples of songs on Blood Harmony that benefitted from this collaborative refinement process that made the effort worthwhile?

REBECCA “Deep Stays Down” is a song that I’d written with my husband, Tyler Bryant. We loved the lyric and we loved certain parts of the melody, but we had to go through four or five substantially different arrangements – and I’m talking different tempos, different grooves and different melodies – before we landed on the version you hear on the record, which was based on a riff Megan had.

Ultimately, by putting that song through the wringer, we wound up with the strongest version of it.

MEGAN “Southern Comfort” is another song that started in a different place than where it wound up. Rebecca completely rewrote the lyrics, and that changed the whole meaning of the song.

REBECCA Also, the original demo for “Kick the Blues” had a totally different lap-steel riff, and I had assumed that’s what we’d wind up recording. And then Megan came in the studio one day after having spent the night retooling it in a moment of inspiration and tracked something completely different that ultimately elevated the song and took it to a new level.

MEGAN When I re-wrote that riff, I was consciously trying to channel Duane Allman and think about what he might play on a song like that.

REBECCA It definitely brought some fire to the track.

You’ve both spoken about the importance of giving every song on Blood Harmony a memorable hook. Did you stockpile any riffs and then try to write the songs around them?

REBECCA No. Actually, my writing process is more the other way around. I don’t stockpile riffs nearly as much as I stockpile titles, song ideas and lyric fragments. I tend to be very phrase-driven when I write, and when I enter a writing season I tend to build the melody, lyrics and riffs around these fragments and ideas. I’ll sketch out a few basic riffs, but musically, the final product has to be a collaboration between me and Megan in order for it to be a Larkin Poe song.

MEGAN It does seem like when we sit down to write, we’ll keep tossing out riff ideas one after another until we find the one that we like. At that point, Rebecca will spin through her lyric Rolodex and find something she thinks is the missing puzzle piece, and we’ll kind of go from there.

Do you ever track your parts together in the studio?

REBECCA We do like to play off of each other, but the necessity of having isolation for mixing means we often wind up tracking separately. Some of [the Blood Harmony track] “Bolt Cutters and the Family Name” was tracked together, though.

MEGAN Historically, we’ve always worked in very small studios and needed to work with the space that we’ve had. This time we recorded in our home studio, but because we’re essentially self-producing, it’s good to have one of us in the control room supervising and overseeing how everything is going. We essentially exchange roles and become each other’s producer.

REBECCA It’s beneficial, because as a performer sometimes you’ll perceive what’s coming off of your hands much differently than others will. You may be in a bad headspace and think you bombed a take, but an empathetic outsider might have a more accurate perspective on what you did and help guide you.

You’ve spoken about working to authentically incorporate blues influences into your music. Can you talk about what that means to each of you?

REBECCA We call ourselves “students of the blues” because I think it’s best to approach it with a student’s mindset. I’m especially drawn to hill country and Delta blues artists like Son House, Mississippi John Hurt, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Skip James and Magic Sam. These are artists with a deep connection and intertwining between the guitar and the vocal.

My approach has been to sit down and try to learn the recordings as closely as I can – to master their specific nuances and idiosyncrasies. Paying attention to those details is what will really push your playing. I think you can hear the influence most on [Blood Harmony’s] “Lips as Cold as Diamond.” I was listening to Skip James and really wanted to write a blues ballad that captured the feeling I get from his music.

MEGAN There’s so much more to playing than just the note choices. To me, learning a Delta blues classic is a master class in how to put emotion into music. The way the different artists chose to use vibrato, glissando and bending is where their unique voice and individual humanity came in.

Rebecca, you wrote “Bad Spell” as an homage to Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ “I Put a Spell on You.” What are some techniques you use to touch on the original without copying it?

REBECCA In terms of form and construction, the songs are very different, but we tried to capture the same energy in the recording. I wrote the lyrics from the same vantage point and tried to create the same kind of unsettling mystery. By using the imagery of spell in the title, I was able to tell a story from where I imagined Hawkins was coming from.

I also wanted to write a ballsy guitar riff, so I programmed a drum loop, slapped on some fuzz and just recorded myself playing over it for 20 minutes at a go, until I was able to construct a riff that had the right amount of “hookiness.”

Again, it was that refinement process where I kept trying different permutations until I found the right one.

Do either of you have any specific practice routines or approaches that you use to expand your playing?

REBECCA I came to guitar later in life. I always felt confident in my chops vocally but didn’t think of the guitar as anything other than a writing tool until I was around 20 or 21. When I started wanting more out of my playing – when I wanted to be able to improvise more fluently and with a wider vocabulary – I actually took advantage of the unlimited resources on YouTube. I would learn songs, licks and solos by other artists, then I’d search out backing tracks in all different keys and just go for it.

Learning vocabulary is important, but I feel that the only way to take that next step as a player is to put yourself in an environment where you can just jam, work on stitching together all the little bits that you’ve mastered, and be able to make as many mistakes as you need and learn from this process.

If you can play with a buddy or get to an open jam, great, but just playing along with backing tracks on YouTube can be a valuable tool to help you find your voice.

MEGAN I think for most musicians, the practice routine for when we’re first starting to play is very different from when we’re really deep into it. After I first started playing lap steel and Dobro, I spent about a year learning every single Jerry Douglas solo I could. Now I find it’s easier for me to get stuck in a rut and plateau, and when that happens it means I have to devote more time to learning new things from other people.

Learning means often putting yourself in situations where you feel uncomfortable, whether it’s jamming with someone who’s better than you or learning a piece of music that’s just beyond your ability. It’s situations where you feel pushed that often help you get better.

Actually, my next goal as a musician is to learn a different instrument, because I feel that will help navigate me in a new directions on my main ones.

Megan, can you give us the info on your signature lap-steel that just hit the market?

MEGAN It’s called the Electro-Liege, and it’s a collaborative effort with Paul Beard. For many years, I toured with my Rickenbacker, which is retro-fitted with a special holder so I could stand and play. Unfortunately, it’s very heavy.

The Electro-Liege incorporates the shape of the holder, so its body is essentially half-Dobro shape and half lap-steel shape, and it’s meant to be played standing, so it’s very light. It has a custom Lollar horseshoe pickup, and it sounds amazing. It’s really full and resonant.

What other gear did you both use on Blood Harmony?

REBECCA I played a Fender Custom Shop Stratocaster, a Tele and my 1969 Gibson SG. We both like to play through Fender Deluxe or Fender Bassman tube amps, and we both use the same overdrive pedal, the Rodenberg TB Drive, which is the signature pedal my husband designed. It’s sort of like two stacked Tube Screamers in one. You’ll also hear the Beetronics Royal Jelly Overdrive/Fuzz Blender a lot, which is really versatile, super-inspiring and fun!

MEGAN I also used a Gamechanger Audio Light Pedal, which is an optical spring reverb system. It has a small spring in it, and if you jostle the pedal it gives you really cool sounds and artifacts. The lap-steel already has a lyrical, almost operatic-like sound, and combined with the right reverb, it’s otherworldly.

Mostly, though, I keep my setup pretty straightforward. When you think about it, the first slide was literally someone breaking the neck off a bottle and deciding to play with it, so you don’t necessarily need all that much to be creative.

Rebecca, can you detail some of the nuances of your playing technique?

REBECCA Sure. I originally started as a bluegrass rhythm player, and when I first started playing electric guitar I broke a lot of strings because I was used to strumming hard and pulling the sound out of an acoustic. I’ve had to dial back that intensity, even with my fretting hand. I was used to really gripping the chords. Electric requires a much lighter touch.

Part of my pre-show warm-up is to just play through scales lightly and remind myself to not wear my hands out by digging in too much. As a result, I feel I have much more control over my vibrato and slides, because my hand has space to concentrate on articulation.

For my picking hand, I’m kind of locked into a three-finger [thumb-index-middle] approach, which is a holdover from having first learned to play banjo, although I don’t use fingerpicks. I’d like to dig in to incorporate my ring finger more, because there’s so much more you can do by adding that extra finger.

When I started writing, I used to use a lot of different tunings. We often toured without a guitar tech though, and having to constantly retune between songs grew tiring, so I eventually pared everything down to standard tuning or drop D.

You’re self-releasing your music now. Do you have any advice for people who want to start their own record label?

REBECCA We highly encourage people to take the independent route, but it’s challenging and it requires you to be crafty to get ahead of the curve. Social media is a double-edged sword, but if you really lean in to the opportunities it presents, it can help connect you with new fans.

Ultimately, you have to be okay with being business-minded, because aside from being artists we’re small business owners. We’re selling music, and hopefully a joyful experience.

MEGAN If you’re comfortable with the idea of tasking yourself and holding the reins, it’s a great way to go because you have much more control of every aspect of the content you release. It can be very fulfilling as an artist when you get to play by your own set of rules.

Order Blood Harmony here.

Back in 2015, shortly before his death, I spent a weekend going back through B.B. King's back catalog. 

It was during one of my visits to YouTube that I found a video of him performing at Sing Sing, New York State’s maximum-security prison.

The show took place on Thanksgiving Day 1972 and featured B.B., Joan Baez, Mimi Farina, the Voices of East Harlem vocal ensemble, and comedian Jimmy Walker, who was then a stand-up and had not yet found fame on the TV series Good Times. 

Titled Sing Sing Thanksgiving, director David Hoffman's concert film is available on DVD.

Hoffman says the legendary bluesman called this “the best recording of his music he had heard”, and judging by the video below, it’s easy to see why. 

In this clip, the legendary bluesman turns in a stunningly impassioned performance of “How Blue Can You Get,” full of soul, humor, and his fantastic guitar work. 

B.B. had originally recorded the song as “Downhearted” for his 1963 album, Blues in My Heart. 

Soon after he remade it as “How Blue Can You Get,” it was released as a single in 1964. 

From then on, it became a staple in his live set.

Browse the B.B. King catalog here.

Blues is alive and well and in the hands of a new generation of guitarists who are putting their own brand on this long-running genre of music.

The January 2023 issue of Guitar Player will celebrate this new breed of blues guitarist – and we’d like you to help decide who should be included.

Vote for your favorites from the list below. Don’t see someone you think should be included? Just write them in!

We’ll tally the results and present them – with new interviews and more – in the January 2023 issue of Guitar Player, on sale December 13.

You can’t visit the place where hill country blues, the hypnotic strain of blues that developed in the kudzu-wrapped hills of northern Mississippi, had its 1990s heyday. The elders – Junior Kimbrough and R.L. Burnside, chief among them – are no longer alive. And the club where they performed outside Chulahoma, Mississippi, is long gone.

There has been no greater embodiment of the rural blues that germinated in the hill country than Junior’s Place, the famed juke joint owned by the often-bawdy bluesman Kimbrough.

Like the music played within its walls, it was an unpretentious place, a simple, wood-frame building shielded from the elements by sheets of rusted tin roofing, with a dirt parking lot and frontage along a lonesome state highway.

Kimbrough’s juke had few rules, and most were scrawled onto white paper signs posted outside the door: No drugs or outside booze were allowed into the club, but patrons could buy cold beer from an upright refrigerator, and homemade corn whisky, once they went inside.

The building had been a church and a general store before it became the juke unofficially known as Junior’s Place, ostensibly because it had no formal name.

Sunday was the day to be there, usually, and the music went all night. Of course, it wasn’t the first juke in the area, and it wasn’t the last. But during the ’90s, Junior’s Place hosted countless performances by Kimbrough and Burnside, who often recruited their kids and grandkids to back them on drums, bass and sometimes a second guitar.

Cedric Burnside, a grandson of R.L., whose 2021 album, I Be Trying, won a Grammy, started playing drums in jukes before he was a teenager.

“By age 10, I was good enough to play in the juke joints,” he says. “Mr. Kimbrough used to give me about five dollars every weekend when I got done playing. I think he gave that to everybody, even the grown folks.”

What Cedric brought to the music was crucial, though. Percussion and rhythm are key to the hill country blues sound. Unencumbered by the strictures of 12-bar Delta blues and I-IV-V chord progressions, Hill country songs can repeat licks and motifs almost until they become trance inducing, propelled by the rhythmic, slide-accented guitar figures.

Where Chicago blues polished and electrified the Delta blues, the music in the hill country remained a primal country blues. The full expression usually isn’t a concisely crafted song, except on recordings. In a juke setting, the songs became background for dancing. And in the long tradition of American roots music, and especially blues, lyrics and licks from one song are often mixed into other songs.

While McDowell, Junior and R.L. wrote a lot of their own songs, some, like “John Henry,” were part of the oral tradition.

Luther Dickinson of the North Mississippi Allstars attests to one unspoken but important rule of hill country blues, though. “The main lesson I learned from playing at Junior’s is to never clear the dance floor,” he says. “R.L. could keep a room dancing by himself with his syncopated fingerpicking.”

Because performances could go from early evening until dawn, Cedric says, “there was a lot of repetition of songs. But also, they played some songs a lot because people had favorites. One was ‘All Night Long’ by Junior Kimbrough. Even though he had several songs, he sometimes played that song four or five times in the same night, ’cause people were requesting it that much.”

The roots of hill country blues are West African, particularly in the focus on rhythm and drums, but also the fife, an instrument played in hill country blues by the late Otha Turner.

Enslaved people in America were forbidden to have drums after their overseers discovered they could be used to communicate with each other. Following the Civil War and Emancipation, though, drums resumed their place in African-American culture and expression. The fife-and-drum tradition is an outgrowth of that.

“The differences in Delta, Chicago and hill country are kind of tough, but it’s real,” says Kenny Brown, who played sideman to both R.L. and Junior for decades, and now leads his own group while also collaborating with artists like the Black Keys.

“And it’s fun music and it’s happy music, most of it, and it’s more concentrated on the groove and the rhythm. A lot of the hill country stuff, I believe, was strongly influenced by the fife-and-drum bands.”

In the early ’90s, two events brought a critical spotlight to this corner of the South. First, the Robert Mugge documentary Deep Blues, narrated by hill country blues champion Robert Palmer, a music writer who penned an authoritative book of the same name in 1982, featured R.L. and other blues artists from the region.

Then, a fledgling new label in nearby Oxford called Fat Possum Records began a campaign to record the region’s country blues artists. R.L. and Junior were first, with the raw, uncompromising Too Bad Jim and All Night Long, respectively, in 1992.

R.L. found a new, young audience in punk, garage and indie-rock circles after opening for Jon Spencer and the Blues Explosion on tour. “When we did this stuff with Jon Spencer, we got to play for younger kids, and they loved it,” Brown says.

“We played a little louder, and I don’t know if it was any faster or not, but that kind of evolved into more of an electric, rocking band than the duo stuff did.”

The style of blues that became recognized as hill country in its modern form traces back to Mississippi Fred McDowell, who worked as a farm laborer and played country blues at parties on weekends.

Musicologist Alan Lomax recorded his first sessions in 1959 on one of his trips through the South, but as the folk-blues scene heated up in the mid ’60s, McDowell began to record more. His repertoire combined traditional and gospel songs with his own compositions that became foundational to the hill country canon.

“Wished I Was in Heaven Sitting Down,” from the Lomax recordings, was later recorded by R.L., and “61 Highway,” from McDowell’s 1969 album I Do Not Play No Rock ’n’ Roll, is recognized as a key composition in the genre.

Other signature hill country tunes, like “Drop Down Mama,” “Going Down South” and Bukka White’s “Shake ’Em on Down,” were key songs in McDowell’s sets.

Brown met McDowell at the Memphis Country Blues Festival in 1969 but didn’t get to play with him. He did, however, come to know Johnny Woods, a harmonicist who recorded and performed with McDowell.

“I learned a lot from Johnny about Fred’s playing,” he says. “It took me years to figure out what he was talking about. He’d say, ‘Frail it man, frail it!’ I figured out what he meant: It’s like your thumb and your index finger are going back and forth, and as your thumb’s going down and your finger’s going up, it creates a lot of rhythm.

“R.L. Burnside and I, we both got to doing pretty much that same kind of thing when we were playing together on two guitars, and that created that sound.”

Brown wasn’t the only blues fanatic listening to how McDowell played guitar. Keith Richards, Mick Taylor and the Rolling Stones were inspired enough to record a faithful cover of his song “You Got to Move” on Sticky Fingers in 1971, with Taylor playing the slide licks on a 1954 Fender Telecaster.

Aerosmith delivered their own take on their 2004 blues covers album, Honkin’ on Bobo, setting the tune to a rock and roll arrangement over a Bo Diddley beat.

McDowell’s note placement was very intentional. He used a slide to drive the tunes, but his flourishes often were a series of well-placed notes without flashy tricks like slide-ins, hammer-ons or pull-offs.

One of the most important things McDowell did, other than write and play music, was to teach his neighbor R.L. Burnside how to play blues. Although 22 years his junior, a teenage R.L. latched onto his mentor’s rhythmic style of playing. A few years on, he would accompany McDowell on gigs at house parties and juke joints in the area.

“Him and my Big Daddy were really, really great friends,” Cedric says, using his preferred name for his grandfather. “They shot craps and drank a bunch of moonshine and stuff together.”

Burnside lived in Chicago for a period in the ’50s but soon returned to northern Mississippi. In 1967, George Mitchell recorded him in Coldwater for the Arhoolie label, which helped him get gigs. Like other hill country bluesmen, his music career ebbed and flowed, and he worked on a farm to supplement his income when the gigs weren’t there.

He formed the Sound Machine with his sons and in 1981 put out Sound Machine Groove, a record that reflected the times. Playing electric guitars, the band somehow aligned country blues with danceable funk and soul.

The next time R.L. recorded, though, would be with Brown by his side and Calvin Jackson, his son-in-law, on drums. Titled Too Bad Jim, and released in 1994, it was the first of a six-album studio run before his death in 2005.

The record found a wider audience for the genre, thanks in large part to the intervention of Jon Spencer, who brought R.L. on tour. That led to a creative partnership in the studio, as well. The band backed R.L. on a pair of albums, 1996’s A Ass Pocket of Whiskey and 1997’s Mr. Wizard, which modernized the hill country sound.

Brown has vivid memories of moving to north Mississippi in the early ’60s. Across the street from his family’s home, Otha Turner and Fred McDowell would host picnics and play music all weekend. That experience primed his interest for when Mississippi Joe Callicott moved in next door, when Brown was 10 years old.

Callicott had recorded with George Mitchell the same year as R.L., and cut songs for the U.K. label Blue Horizon on a Memphis session that included Furry Lewis. Soon after his arrival, Brown began woodshedding guitar licks with him during a period in American music when most kids his age were listening to the Beatles.

Callicott taught Brown the tunings and techniques of hill country blues. Tuning his guitar to open G, which he called Spanish tuning, Callicott laid the instrument in his lap and used a pocket knife as a slide.

When Callicott passed away in 1969, Brown picked up open E tuning from Bobby Ray Watson, who also showed him how to play slide licks in the standard position. He says he and Johnny Woods would get together and “ramble the whole weekend from different parties to juke joints” playing music.

In 1971, Brown met R.L., and they became fast friends over their love of hill country blues. For a slide, Brown used a glass Coricidin bottle, a deep-well 11/16 socket or a ¾-inch piece of copper he cut at his construction job.

They played house parties and juke joints throughout the ’70s and ’80s, and when Fat Possum came looking for R.L., Brown went with him, backing him on albums beginning with Too Bad Jim.

While the hills heated up with new fans, better tours and bigger album sales, the next generation of hill country artists were taking notes. Junior’s sons, Kenny, Robert and David, were learning alongside their father, as were Cedric and his uncles Duwayne and Garry Burnside. Lightnin’ Malcolm, Eric Deaton and others from the scene were coming up.

The ones who have arguably made the widest impact, though, are the Dickinson brothers, Luther and Cody, and their friend Cedric. The Dickinsons are the sons of Memphis musician Jim Dickinson, who had played piano on the Rolling Stones’ “Wild Horses” and produced Big Star, the Replacements and Ry Cooder.

Luther recalls that he first heard and saw hill country blues on a 1982 episode of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood that featured Otha Turner and Jesse Mae Hemphill performing fife-and-drum music. Although Luther didn’t get to meet McDowell, his mother carried him to his funeral in utero, and he studied his music from audio and video recordings.

He did meet Turner, though, a decade later at the Memphis Heritage Festival. Turner took him to Junior’s Place for the first time just as Fat Possum was getting off the ground and preparing to record R.L. and Junior.

“Once we befriended the musical families of Otha Turner, the Burnsides and the Kimbroughs, it was on, wide open,” Dickinson says. “They had a juke joint and we had a recording studio. We learned from our peers as well as studying the elders.

“On tour with Burnside in ’97, I would sing along and learn his later style, and then compare that to the earlier, more virtuosic style of his solo guitar work in the ’70s.”

Dickinson’s hill country education was immersive. He became a regular at Junior’s Place, getting to know R.L. and Junior as well as their extended families, and picking up their playing techniques. He began to think about “using folk music forms as frameworks for improvisation,” a concept he put into practice a few years later with the North Mississippi Allstars.

“I had grown up with open tunings, finger picking and slide guitar from my father and his partners, Ry Cooder mainly,” he says. “The hill country guitarists inspired me to play open-tuned, finger-picked slide guitar, electric and loud as hell, but have it respond like an acoustic guitar while using amp response and feedback to create sustain with the slide.”

Luther produced Everybody Hollerin’ Goat, the 1998 album Turner recorded with his Rising Star Fife & Drum Band, and would drive him to performances. By then, Dickinson had formed the Allstars with his brother, Cody, and bassist Chris Chew.

The Allstars put together everything he had learned about hill country blues, from the songbook to the licks and even the fife-and-drum percussion, at times. The band’s 2000 debut, Shake Hands With Shorty, drew together the hill country traditions with Allman Brothers-style improvisation and Chew’s gospel harmonic sense.

“I wanted to orchestrate the riffs of Fred McDowell and the solo acoustic work of R.L. Burnside with a rock and roll band,” Dickinson says. “At first, we strove to be as traditional as possible. But we eventually opened up and began using the blues songs as vehicles for ensemble improvisation, finding portals for extended jams.”

Dickinson toured with R.L. around the time Cedric took over the drum chair from his father, as the hill country scene started to attract hipster attention in the mid ’90s. All the while, though, Cedric was paying close attention to what his Big Daddy was playing on guitar.

“I would sit there and watch him and look at his coordination, how his fingers moved while he was playing, what time his lyrics would be in, because the music was so unorthodox,” Cedric says. “It was a really crazy rhythm, but he made it sound really great, and so I always wanted to do that. I always wanted to play the guitar and sing, just like my Big Daddy did.”

Dickinson gave him his first guitar, a yellow Harmony acoustic, after the tour, and his uncle Garry showed him open G tuning and some picking and fretting patterns.

“I was playing in open G a lot, and I wrote most of my songs in that tuning and loved it,” Cedric says. “But Garry showed me a little bit in standard, and I was not playing in standard at the time.

“He showed me a pattern in E and then he showed me a pattern in A, and he said this pattern that you did in A, you can go to G and do the same thing. You know, you can go to C and do the same thing, all the way down the fretboard. I was like, ‘Okay, let me just try it in all of them then.’”

Cedric stayed up nights, into the early morning hours some days, practicing chords, change-ups and licks in open G and standard tuning.

“When I got on the guitar, I just played with sounds, and I remember some of the top players looking at me, and they’re like, ‘Man, that is so crazy like that. It’s backwards.’ And it may well be backwards, but if it sounds good, I’ll go with it. That’s where I’m at, even right now today.”

By the time Junior’s Place burned to the ground in 2000, two years after Junior passed away, the scene had matured. The Allstars had landed hill country blues on the jam-band circuit and national television, and they brought everyone with them.

Duwayne played in the band for a few years, and for their performance at Bonnaroo in 2004, they brought R.L. and the extended family onstage for a one-off set released later that year as Hill Country Revue.

Unlike other regional blues styles, hill country blues isn’t a dying art, thanks to Brown, the Burnsides, the Kimbroughs and the Dickinsons, as well as Otha Turner’s granddaughter Sharde Thomas, the Black Keys and scores of artists who have taken its influence in new directions.

“I can’t help but be hill country in whatever I write,” Cedric says. “I just let it flow. I don’t try to force anything. If it comes out what somebody might call weird, I just let it come out weird. My heart is just old-school music. That’s all I’ve been around my whole life, and that sound was embedded in me. It’s in my blood, you know, so I just gotta let it do its thing.”

The sight of blues-harp legend Charlie Musselwhite holding a Harmony acoustic guitar on the cover of his 2022 album, Mississippi Son (Alligator), isn’t as incongruous as you might think.

Chances are, if you’ve listened to any of his two-dozen-plus solo albums, you’ve already heard Musselwhite play guitar. But he wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t notice. 

After all, harmonica has been his calling card since the 1960s, when he was sitting in with Muddy Waters and other foundational blues artists on Chicago’s South Side.

But throughout his five-decade career in blues music, Musselwhite has snuck a bit of his own fretwork into the mix across most of his albums.

On Mississippi Son, which pays tribute to the music and region that inspired him, he finally brings his guitar playing to the forefront on 14 country blues songs recorded in his adopted Mississippi Delta hometown of Clarksdale, where Son House, Charley Patton, Robert Johnson and other blues greats played.

“The guitar players in my band that I hired, to me they were way better, more modern guitar players than I was,” Musselwhite admits, speaking from his home, which backs up to the languid Sunflower River as it flows through one of the most fertile musical landscapes in America.

“I liked having a guy that could play a strong rhythm underneath me so I can play the harp over the top of that. And a good player makes you play better.”

That maxim carries a lot of weight from someone who learned his craft from blues artists who were no more than one degree removed from the originators.

Musselwhite grew up on a dead-end street in Memphis, Tennessee, the only son of a single mother. Young Charlie had ample time to himself, and he used it to explore places like the patch of woods behind his neighborhood along Cypress Creek, where he would lay in the shade and listen to the blues hollers and songs emanating from nearby fields.

“I remember it sounded like how I felt,” he says. “I liked all kinds of music, but blues seemed like there was more to it than just music, and I was really attracted to it because it was comforting. I was a lonely kinda kid and I was left alone a lot. So that was my comfort.”

Musselwhite had already been toying with a harmonica when, at 13, his father gave him a black Harmony Supertone guitar. He learned basic chord shapes from a book, starting with an E chord – “I remember putting my little finger down and making it an E7 and going, ‘Yeah!,’” he says – and then began moving the patterns up and down the neck.

Before long, he kicked off his training wheels and went for it with gusto.

“I just kept experimenting with patterns, and finally I had these patterns where I could go all the way up and down the neck,” he recalls. “I’d play one note and think, Okay, I hear the next note I want. Where is it? I’d find that note, and then I’d find the next note that made sense.

“So I would create these scales – I guess you call them modes – and that was the beginning of figuring out how it works.”

Musselwhite’s guitar education accelerated once he began hanging around Beale Street, the main artery of the city’s African-American community, and meeting like-minded musicians and blues elders around town.

A mutual friend introduced him to influential bluesman Walter “Furry” Lewis, and he met Earl Bell and Will Shade of the Memphis Jug Band, as well as Memphis Willie Borum.

“Furry was a friend,” he says. “I would go over to his home, and sometimes we just listened to the ball game on the radio or something. But often I’d ask him to show me things, and he was eager.

“All those guys were flattered that I would come to them and spend time with them, and they thought it was great that I wanted to learn their music and that I respected them and their music. And so it was good for them. And it was good for me.”

The first thing Lewis showed Musselwhite were alternate tunings: open G, or Spanish, and open D, which he called Sebastopol. They unlocked a mystery he’d carried since watching a man play blues under a Summer Avenue overpass years earlier.

He’d been vexed, unable to figure out how the chord shapes and licks he’d committed to memory didn’t sound the same as they did under the bridge. Now he had the key.

Like his Memphis mentors, Musselwhite doesn’t use a pick when he plays. He tried to use a flatpick once, but it didn’t gel with his playing style. He also tried a thumbpick, but it was so inconsequential to his playing that when it disappeared, he never bothered to get another.

Naturally, he goes about it in his own way.

“When I first started teaching myself guitar, I noticed other people would turn their hands so they strummed up with their index finger,” he explains. “But to me, it made sense to use my index finger on the little E, my middle finger on the B string and my ring finger on the G string, and I would pick up, backward from the way they picked.

“I’ve had guitar players that are light years ahead of me on technique say, ‘Man, I could never play like that!’” He laughs. “And I didn’t really know what I was doing. I was just making it up as I went, and that’s what I came up with.”

Soon, Musselwhite set aside what he learned and headed north to Chicago like thousands of others, looking for better jobs than laying concrete in the sun for a buck an hour.

He started driving for an exterminator and learned the city quickly on his routes. He also saw flyers and posters advertising performances by blues artists whose names he already knew well.

“I remember going out 43rd Street, past Pepper’s Lounge, and it said ‘Muddy Waters’ on the window,” he says. “I thought, Damn! I couldn’t believe it. “I saw signs for Elmore James and Howlin’ Wolf, and I was like a kid in the candy store.”

Musselwhite began to write down the addresses, and he would show up after his shift and spend the night watching his heroes paint the walls blue with music.

He didn’t tell anyone he played harp or guitar – he wasn’t even legally old enough to be there – but after he’d requested songs from obscure 78s and become a regular, a Pepper’s waitress bragged to Waters that he should hear Memphis Charlie blow harp. So he did.

“That changed everything, ’cause Muddy insisted that I sit in, which wasn’t unusual,” he says. “Guys sat in all the time with other musicians. Playing ’til four in the morning, that’s a lot of time to keep playing music, so Muddy’s always inviting musicians to sit in.”

After hearing him play with Waters, other musicians began offering him gigs. “I couldn’t believe it. ‘You’re going to pay me to play harmonica?’ Boy, that got me focused. That was my ticket out of the factory.”

Eventually, it became his ticket out of Chicago. Although he wasn’t looking to leave, a radio station in San Francisco had started to play a record he recorded for Vanguard, his 1967 debut, Stand Back! Here Comes Charley Musselwhite’s Southside Band.

Offers for gigs followed at ballrooms and auditoriums that paid many times what he could make in the blues clubs on the South Side. He put together a band, lit out for the Bay Area and never looked back.

So many steps in Musselwhite’s career seem like happenstance.

Once he moved to Clarksdale in 2021, where he could be near extended family and just a two-hour drive from his birthplace in Kosciusko, he began to hang out at a studio owned by musician Gary Vincent a few blocks away. The sessions, he says, were a complete accident.

“I was just showing what I do on guitar, and he said, ‘You know, we should tape these,’” Musselwhite recalls. “It wasn’t like it was a plan; it was just another one of those things. It just happens. I wasn’t trying to be flashy. I wasn’t thinking about radio play or nothing like that.”

At first, Musselwhite wasn’t even planning to add harmonica parts, but after cajoling from Vincent, he overdubbed his signature harp.

“It was easy for me because I knew the songs and I knew how to play with the guitar I was playing and accompany myself.”

Mississippi Son turned into a semi-autobiographical song cycle of 10 original songs and four covers, including Delta blues re-imaginings of the Stanley Brothers tune “Rank Strangers” and Guy Clark’s “The Dark.”

Played as solo excursions or in a trio format with upright bass and a small drum kit, the songs unfold under Musselwhite’s frank, storyteller vocals, with harp and fingerstyle guitar flourishes.

Musselwhite also pays tribute to his Chicago roommate and rambling partner Big Joe Williams with the solo acoustic “Remembering Big Joe.” It’s an improvised blues inspired by and played on one of Williams’ guitars, a nine-string instrument – his preferred configuration – which Williams fashioned by nailing a piece of metal with three tuning pegs across the top of the headstock.

A mutual friend had inherited the instrument and brought it to the studio where Musselwhite was recording Mississippi Son. Perhaps not knowing what he had, he reverted the guitar back to a six-string.

“Joe would double the little E and the B and the D,” Musselwhite says. “The G string was not doubled, but he always played an unwound G.

In Memphis, I remember the brand of strings we all used was Black Diamond, and you’d take out that G string and it’d be wound, and you put the end of it under your foot and take a knife and just scrape all that stuff off so you had an unwound G. ’Cause it’s cool to bend it in the middle of a chord, you know?”

For Mississippi Son, Musselwhite relied mostly on a 1954 Gibson J-45 and a 1967 Silvertone, although his tastes run even more eclectic.

One of his favorites is a Harmony Stratotone, which he picked up while working with Tom Waits in the ’90s.

“I was on tour with Tom Waits, and I was backstage,” he begins. “He had two guitar players with him – Marc Ribot and Smokey Hormel – and they both had Stratotones, and they were talking about how much they liked them.

“And I’m just listening, and at one point Marc Ribot said, ‘You know, it’s really the only guitar worth having.’” He laughs. “And I thought, I’m getting me one!

“That’s just a hell of a guitar,” he adds. “I love the tone on it, and I love that fat neck, ’cause you can really dig in. I’ve played these guitars that are really finely made, with the shaved-down neck and everything, and they’re too delicate. I can’t play those things.”

Ultimately, it’s just as well, because Musselwhite has never had an interest in being a speed demon. His raw, gutbucket style of playing requires a sturdy instrument he can wrangle.

“I never really tried to or had any interest in being like a shredder.” He laughs again. “Or a rocker, or anything like that. I didn’t ever have any desire to get a big amp and conquer the world shredding guitar.

“I just liked the feeling and the subtleties and the substance of the original down-home blues, and that’s what I’ve always wanted to play. And if I never ever had a career at all, that’s what I would be playing anyhow, for myself.”

Order Charlie Musselwhite’s Mississippi Son here.

On his sixth studio album, 2020 Visions, maverick guitarist Stephen Dale Petit has created a blues record unlike any other.

For one thing, it’s a concept record. For another, it presents a dystopian view of society, America in particular, with themes of factionalism, tribalism and alienation, all through the lens of someone gazing into the not-too-distant future.

In this case, that someone is an expat (Petit moved to England from California in the mid ’80s) who penned much of the material back in 2017 but is only now seeing his album – and a good many of his prescient predictions – become a reality.

 “I guess it’s pre-dystopian, to make up my own term,” Petit says in a distinct British accent.

“Having not lived in America for so long, I’m kind of imagining what it must be like for a parent who arrives home after a trip. You walk into the house and the kids are going crazy, the rooms are all torn apart, and you go, ‘What have you done to the place?’ The son says, ‘She did it,’ and the daughter says, ‘He did it.’

“That’s my feeling about the polarization in America and how savage and how indoctrinated ideologically everything seems to be.”

Petit traveled to Nashville and cut 2020 Visions with producer Vance Powell back in 2017, and if various, unforeseen circumstances had not upended his plans, he would have released the album the following year.

A cancer diagnosis – Stage 4, as it turned out – threw his world into a tailspin, and for much of 2018 he had to curtail most professional activities while dealing with treatment.

“It was a chemo and radiation regime every day for two months,” he says. “Brutal stuff. I’m all clear now, thank goodness, but it takes a while for you to get back up to speed.

“I did a couple of shows during that time, and it was strange, because I experienced this sort of artificial energy while performing, almost like a weird caffeine kick or something. But that drops off and your body’s completely reeling. Basically, it put me out of action for a good year.”

Once his doctors gave him the go-ahead to proceed with his normal life and career, Petit was set to release the album in late March of 2020 when the COVID pandemic threw a wrench into that idea.

A tour to support the album was nixed, and while he waited for lockdown to be lifted, he decided to release the record digitally.

“We finally got physical copies out in the fall of 2020, once brick-and-mortar stores began to open up again,” he explains.

“The whole thing was this crazy double-whammy. First I had my own health issues to sort out, and then this global pandemic knocked out the rest of the world. In a way, the second thing wasn’t so hard on me because of what I’d just gone through, but it was a really insane time.”

He laughs. “Is this where I say, ‘All’s well that ends well?’”

Another thing that distinguishes 2020 Visions from most other blues albums is its sound, a unique and revolutionary sonic approach that owes as much to art rock, emo, punk, metal and even jam bands as it does to traditional blues.

On the nine-minute space-age epic “The Fall of America,” Petit exorcises demons as he explores every possible shattering cry and wail his guitar can emit.

In an equally virtuoso performance on another extended track, “Zombie Train,” he goes for broke, firing off supersonic, freak-out solos and shards of psychedelic lines while leading his ace band – bassist Sophie Lord and drummer Jack Greenwood – on a slinky, cosmic and soul-drenched jam journey.

“Sputnik Days,” co-written with his legendary friend (and quasi-mentor) Mick Taylor, is a sublime yet exhilarating dream that offers Petit a showcase for celebrating the lyrical power of bent notes and harmonics.

And those are just some of the highlights. There’s also incendiary re-workings of classics like “Steppin’ Out” and “Long Tall Shorty,” on which the guitarist goes full throttle, summoning the spirits of blues greats while fearlessly claiming the songs as his own.

“Blues is the essence of what I do, but I don’t let it dictate where I can go,” Petit notes. “I just let my instinct guide me. Otherwise, I’m just re-creating what’s been done before, and what’s the point of that?

“It’s like people doing ‘Caldonia,’ which is a great song that’s been a blues standard for 50 years. On any given day, there’s a hundred bands playing it, and I think, Why would they do that, especially if they’re not going to do something new with it?

“I try to take various essences, flavors, colors and styles, but I want to bring them into the present. I want to sound like today. There’s enough people stuck in yesterday, and that’s just not for me.”

As a teenager in California, you hung out with some early metal stars of the day, including Randy Rhoads and George Lynch. Were you much of a shredder?

Not really, no. I more or less decided that I would never develop those kinds of chops. For a good while, I sat on my parents’ sofa, playing my guitar and pondering.

I’d just seen B.B. King – I even got a chance to meet him. There was something about the blues that had touched me deeply, because it’s a cry of the soul. It felt so authentic, especially when compared to the phoniness that was around at the time.

I considered all that stuff out of L.A. contaminated by the ethos of Hollywood, and I didn’t want to be a part of it. On top of that, George Lynch tried to steal my girlfriend.

Oh, well, that would sure turn you off metal.

[laughs] It didn’t help. But yeah, prior to that, I was playing lots of rock covers like everybody else – “Rocky Mountain Way” and stuff like that.

After the revelation of seeing B.B. King, how did you do your homework and absorb the blues?

It actually started with Chuck Berry. My parents listened to the Beatles and the Stones, who both name-checked Chuck. They covered him and talked about the debt they owed him. They celebrated him.

I went out and bought Chuck Berry Is on Top, which was on Chess Records, and from there I started checking out other people on the label: Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Little Walter. It happened really quickly.

I imagine you felt like an outlier in L.A. Everybody was getting into the Sunset Strip shred-metal scene while you’re digging into older stuff.

I was very much out of anybody else’s orbit. I just didn’t participate in their scene. But it was a conscious decision. At first I felt a bit awkward, but the magnetic pull of the blues was too strong.

Now, you did a bit of reverse engineering. You went to the U.K. because you were inspired by their blues players, but those were the same people who revered American blues artists.

You’re absolutely right. I was getting the echo of the echo, so to speak. But the way that it was marketed, whether it was Cream or Hendrix or even the Beatles, it was all about appealing to youth. I was young – a generation out, perhaps, but I was still a youth.

How do I put this? I just thought of England and Europe as angular, whereas America was square. There was something coming out of England that felt like a way in. To me, a player like Mick Taylor was a revelation in the beginning, more than even somebody like Peter Green. Hendrix was immediate.

I was hearing all this stuff long after it was released by listening to friends’ older brothers’ records. It all just started to percolate and simmer.

But yeah, I decided to go to England because I just wasn’t thrilled with what I was getting in America.

You became friends with Mick Taylor. How did you two meet?

I went to a show of his, and then it turned out that I knew his manager. Also, I had spoken to somebody in a restaurant adjoining the club who turned out to be his best friend. She had a dog named Roxie, and my dog was named Roxie.

The stars aligned, basically. It was fate. Mick and I met up and hit it off. He was such an important player to me in terms of understanding overbends. We all started doing two-and two-and-a-half-step overbends from hearing Crusade [by John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers, 1967], specifically the song “Oh, Pretty Woman.”

Mick was 17 at the time, and I started listening to it when I was 17. I was like, Oh this guy did this at my age. Incredible!

Did Mick take you under his wing?

He did. I think he was expecting a Stones freak initially, so he was pleasantly surprised that my interest was more in the blues stuff and the John Mayall records. He toured with me as a special guest, and I think he’s on three of my albums.

The way “The Fall of America” came about is interesting: Mick was living with me. I’d just come back from a trip to L.A., where I’d seen the Kills. The band’s guitar player, Jamie Hince, is fond of hooking the thumb over the neck to make chords – an old bluesman’s trick. I thought, Wow, yeah, I should try some more of that.

I started to noodle around, and Mick came into the room; actually, he was sort of lingering in the doorway while going to make some tea or whatever. He would listen to me sometimes, but he wouldn’t say anything.

So this one time he was listening, and I knew he was there. I was playing around with this riff, and finally he said, “That’s so powerful. It’s really intense and hypnotic.” Then he left to go into another room but not before saying, “It needs to go to E.” And that’s why it goes to an E at the end.

I was inspired by seeing the Kills, but Mick, to his credit, knew not to interrupt me till the right time. He could sense something was being born.

You also became friends with Eric Clapton. That must be pretty remarkable.

Oh yeah. We met through mutual friends. In the beginning, it was like a dream coming true, and you can’t quite believe it – you’re hanging with one of your heroes.

Then it changes and you’re dealing with a human being, and through that process, when you’re actually becoming friends, it goes through phases and you get closer and closer. All of that stuff happened.

Any preconceived notions I had of what he was like went out the window pretty early. He was nothing like what I expected.

Do you two sit down and play together?

Oh, no. No, no, that’s not happened, at least not yet.

He’s commented on your playing and has been quite complimentary.

Yeah, that’s brilliant, isn’t it? It’s mind-blowing, really. You hope for it, but you tell yourself not to expect it.

What kind of impact did Eric have on your playing?

Oh, a lot. [laughs] In my journey, I got my head around overbends, so I went back to the people who started it. Albert King did overbends left, right and center. I would listen to him, but I couldn’t figure him out. This was all before YouTube. I had to do it by ear.

Now, if you overbend by two steps, the note has a different tone than if you just fret honestly on the neck. It’s not dishonest – it’s just got a whole different thing. The tone is different; the timbre of the way the string vibrates is different.

With Eric, I heard the solo he did on Cream’s “I’m So Glad,” and he’s doing different things. I was knocked out.

That and the “Steppin’ Out” solo – I was literally speechless. I know that’s an overused figure of speech, but that’s how I felt. My whole foundation was rocked. Just when I thought I might be getting somewhere with the guitar, I heard this and thought, Holy shit!

You’ve put out some terrific albums, but 2020 Visions feels like a breakthrough. The electric guitar sound is wild, trippy and dramatic, and it’s not typical of how most blues guitarists sound. And you have more than one sound.

I’ve spent years thinking and working on this. To me, tone and textures are every bit as important as what you’re playing. I don’t want to sound like anybody else, and I don’t understand why other people would want to.

What I’m seeking is some sort of a sonic texture that’s unique. It’s not quirky or weird, like it’s a novelty or gimmick; rather, it’s related to what the music is addressing. It’s a style. It’s a sonic style as opposed to a musical style.

It’s easy to say, “I want to sound unique.” It’s quite another thing to pull it off.

It is. One big thing that’s helped me was getting an original Marshall JTM45. It’s part of the toolbox that enables me to do this. I hate to say that, because the amp was stupidly expensive.

I didn’t want it to be true, but the way those amps were designed with the negative-feedback loop, it stacks harmony when you’re sustaining a note. It’s more of a musical instrument than just an amp.

Let’s talk about some of the songs on the album. The title track is blues, but it’s got a very pronounced punk rock side to it.

Sure, sure. I mean, I’m playing blues licks, no doubt, but it’s got another thing. You know, I never really used to like Iggy Pop until I read that he went to Chicago and tried to be a blues guy for, like, six months. Then I kind of understood.

The guitars on the song are trashy and reckless. It’s like they collide off each other.

As well they should. The guitars on the chorus are just driving and out of control, but there’s the call-and-answer guitar to the vocal. It’s got a bluesier, warmer sound. But I’m purposely trying to smear notes, bitter to sweet.

You’re very rough with your guitar on “The Fall of America.” Every riff, power chord and solo is brutal. It’s not festival-tent blues.

It’s designed not to be that at all. There are people who can do that beautifully and brilliantly, and my hat is off to them. It’s just something that doesn’t interest me. I guess I take my sensibilities from the British musicians of the ’60s and ’70s. They were making new art.

That sounds pretentious, but they weren’t just making an archive of what was happening in the room. They were using all the tools of technology to create something unique in that moment, and it was as far from field recordings as you could get.

At nine minutes long, the song is epic. For much of it, it seems like you’re having fun exploring tones.

Oh, I am, I am! Yeah, we went on for a bit, but hey, America’s a big country. [laughs] The subject of what’s going on is a big subject. I’d never written a nine-minute song before, but it went where it wanted.

“Roxie’s Song” is altogether different. It’s a tight, beautifully constructed instrumental.

Yes, Roxie was my miniature schnauzer, and she died. With this record, there was a musical concept. I wanted it to be an honorific homage to the bent note on the guitar.

“Roxie’s Song” has a really long bend, which is the sad part. Obviously, I was gutted that my dog was dead, and I was missing her like nothing else.

But what about the happy times? So there are middle bits where it’s sort of like in summer grass and how she had to hop around to be seen. There are fun bits and moments of exhilaration, like how you play chase with your dog, or how they go crazy when you walk in the door.

How did you and Mick Taylor collaborate on writing “Sputnik Days”?

That was another one of those times when he heard me working on something, but rather than lingering in the doorway, he felt compelled to pick up a guitar.

He co-wrote it with me. It sums up what I aspire to: It’s rooted properly in deep blues while living in the present and being aware that we have tomorrow to look forward to.

One song that is very reverential to the blues is the very short instrumental “On Top.”

Yeah. That’s Sophie Lord playing bass and doing some serious chording – lovely tone clusters as the bedrock. I don’t mind going there – you know, the reverential thing – but it’s why it’s short as well.

“Zombie Train” has a bit of funky soul to it. It’s got a bit of a ’70s feel, but again, it sounds very current. And it’s a great showcase for everybody in the band.

Oh, yes, for sure. That’s another one on which Sophie is front and center. It was sort of showcased for the bass. Both Sophie and Jack Greenwood play brilliantly throughout the record.

“Zombie Train” is this spoken-song verse, and I really loved being able to stretch out on the guitar solos. It’s another long one, and it’s closer to us being a jam band or something.

You have all these Beatles connections. Ringo Starr does a spoken intro on the song “The Ending of the End,” the album’s artwork was done by Klaus Voormann, and you’re photographed by Pattie Boyd.

Yeah, it’s something. Actually, Pattie photographed me for two album covers. You know, my parents played the Beatles; they were part of my musical journey.

When I met Jimmy Page the first time, we talked through it and he agreed. He said, “Well, yeah, they’re rooted in the blues.”

The Beatles are like blues songs with pop choruses. “Can’t Buy Me Love” is a blues progression, and so is “She’s a Woman,” “Lady Madonna,” “I Feel Fine” and on and on.

“Yer Blues,” obviously.

Sure. That was a great one.

You recently started playing the Gibson Custom Modern Flying V.

I did. That’s a whole different experience because it’s so lightweight, and it kind of folds into you. You’re almost wearing it. It’s an insane guitar, and I love it.

On 2020 Visions, I mostly played a cherry-red [ES-]355 reissue. It’s the star of the record. It’s like the Cadillac of guitars. It’s semi-hollow, and it just feels like a proper guitar. I grew up hating 355s. I thought solid-body guitars were the only real guitars. Lately, I’ve done a complete turnaround.

Is there anybody in the current crop of blues guitar players who stands out to you?

There’s some great players. Connor Selby, Toby Lee – those are two off the top of my head.

It’s hard for me to criticize anybody, because I think anybody doing it should be applauded. If they’re out there and playing, they’ve already accomplished so much.

At the same time, so much current blues has become formulaic – the sounds and just the concept of what a blues record in the modern age should be.

A lot of that has to do with people being concerned about airplay. I’m unsure how it all happens. Is it the artist? The producer? These people can be great players, but it’s hard for me to listen to another blues song that’s produced the same way or with the same approach.

Sometimes I can’t get past it, but that’s a personal problem. It’s got nothing to do with anybody else.

Order Stephen Dale Petit’s 2020 Visions here.

Great blues tone isn't rocket science – you just need to get a happening sound in your head, and then use the right tools to replicate the magic.

All great players have specific guitars, amps, and effects that are essential to their sound.

Some, like B.B. King, used the same setup for decades – in his case, a Gibson ES-355 through a Lab Series combo or a Fender Twin Reverb – while others tweak their systems incessantly in the pursuit of groovier tone.

Stevie Ray Vaughan favored one guitar – a Stratocaster – and a few key effects throughout his career, but he experimented a great deal with amps and speakers.

No matter which player you choose to emulate, it's important to understand that merely replicating every detail of their gear is no guarantee that you're going to sound exactly like them.

Tone is, after all, 90% touch and 10% hardware.

Buddy Guy would sound like himself no matter what equipment he used, and the same holds true for most great players.

Still, some guitars and amps can inspire you to play a certain way, and using rigs similar to the ones used by players you respect may help you zone in on a killer sound that can later be morphed into something uniquely yours.

ERIC CLAPTON

"Clapton Is God" graced many a structure in the late '60s, and for good reason – he practically wrote the book on how to play blues-rock electric guitar.

Attaining a credible Clapton sound requires that you first determine which period in his long career you like best.

During his time with John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, Clapton famously used a late-'50s Gibson Les Paul Standard through a model 1962 Marshall 2x12 combo.

Part of the secret here is that Clapton's amp was equipped with KT66 output tubes, which have a more refined midrange and clearer top end than either EL34s or 6L6s.

With Cream, Clapton went to high-volume heaven with 100-watt Marshall heads and 4x12 cabs.

He also used a Vox wah-wah and, occasionally, a fuzz.

After his Les Paul was stolen, Clapton played a '61 SG-style Les Paul, and then a Gibson ES-335 for Cream's farewell concert.

With Blind Faith, Clapton used a Gibson Firebird through a Fender Showman.

He then switched to maple-fretboard Strats through Fender tweed Champs during his Derek & The Dominos/"Layla" period.

Both setups yielded tones that rate among Clapton's best.

ALBERT COLLINS

The "Iceman" had one of the most original tones around – just listen to his fabulous sting on such classic cuts as "Frosty," "Too Many Dirty Dishes," "Iceman," and "Put the Shoe on the Other Foot."

Collins certainly did things his own way.

He played a beat-up Fender Telecaster, with a Gibson humbucker in the neck position, that he tuned to open Fm.

He used a capo – often at the fifth or seventh position – and he snapped and popped his strings with his thumb and forefinger.

Collins also favored '70s-era Fender Quad Reverb amps (100 watts into four 12s), and he used a 100' cord.

This latter detail allowed him to get friendly with the audience, while the added cable capacitance helped defrost his icy highs.

ALBERT KING

Almost every blues guitar player "borrows" something from Albert King – even Stevie Ray Vaughan based his blistering style on King's mammoth bends and lightning-bolt stabs.

Almost no one tries to duplicate the left-handed bluesman's gear, however, which isn't too surprising, considering that King played a flipped-over Gibson Flying V with the low-E string closest to the floor.

According to repair ace Dan Erlewine (who built King's replica V, "Lucy"), Albert strung his guitar .009, .012, .024W, .028, .038, .050, and tuned it C, F, C, F, A, D (low to high.)

Steve Cropper, who produced a number of King's albums, offers a different tuning – C, B, E, F#, B, E (low to high) – which he says allowed King to create a one-finger Em chord by raising F# to G. (Another important aspect of King's tone was that he played exclusively with his fingers.)

Onstage, King often plugged into an Acoustic 370 solid-state guitar amp driving a 2x15 enclosure with a built-in high-frequency horn – a real pawnshop prize!

While a Flying V is the way to go here, just about any quality, dual-humbucker guitar can be coaxed into the Albert zone.

Consider, however, that Otis Rush gets a chillingly similar sound with a Fender Strat!

Amps? That's a good question, as almost nothing available sounds anything like an old Acoustic 370.

Our advice is choose an amp (or amp channel) with enough clean headroom to preserve your note attack. Crank the volume, but go easy on the distortion – King's tone was big and bold, not squashed and compressed.

B.B. KING

The King of the Blues' sweet, singing tone stands out as one of the great guitar sounds of all time.

King's original tone recipe was a Gibson ES-355 through a long-discontinued Gibson Lab Series 2x12 combo amp.

From the '80s, he played a Gibson Lucille model stereo guitar, which features a TP-6 fine-tune tailpiece and no f-holes.

King used both pickups simultaneously and strung his guitar with light-gauge Gibsons (.009-.042).

Though he favored vintage Lab Series amps, he often ran through a Fender Twin Reverb onstage.

Replicating B.B. King's sound requires running your amp's output stage fairly hard, while avoiding the fuzzier distortion produced by high-gain channels or stompboxes.

T-BONE WALKER

Often called the father of electric blues, T-Bone Walker helped establish the guitar as a featured lead instrument in the 1940s.

Guitarists inspired by Walker's playing (or his flashy stage moves) include Chuck Berry, Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, Wes Montgomery, B.B. King, Buddy Guy, Albert Collins, Billy Gibbons, Albert King, Otis Rush, Michael Bloomfield, and Duane Allman.

Walker cut his teeth on primitive acoustic-electrics, but his signature ax was a blonde, maple-bodied Gibson ES-5 that he bought at the peak of his career in the early 1950s.

Walker held the guitar perpendicular to his body (when he wasn't playing it behind his head or between his legs), and it's likely that he plugged into a Gibson tube amp.

T-Bone Walker forged the basic vocabulary of rock and roll using double-stops, half- and quarter-step bends, and his patented, third-to-second-string unison bends.

His unorthodox playing style probably created a little extra string lift and snap, and he preferred his tone dry, clean, and relatively bright compared to jazz guitar players of the time.

A deep-bodied guitar – preferably with P-90-style, single-coil pickups – running through a reasonably clean-sounding tube amplifier are essential ingredients for T-Bone tone.

STEVIE RAY VAUGHAN

Stevie Ray Vaughan forged a sound that defines big blues tone.

Five basic ingredients are required here:

• Rosewood fretboard Fender Strat strung with heavy-gauge strings (Vaughan used GHS sets as heavy as .013-.060)
• Ibanez Tube Screamer overdrive (either a TS-9 or an older TS-808)
• Rotating speaker (he favored vintage Fender Vibratones, but you may wish to substitute a stompbox-sized simulator here)
• Vox wah wah pedal
• Fender tube amp with four 10" speakers

Vaughan often combined amps – Fender Super Reverbs with 1x15 Fender Vibroverbs, Marshall and Dumble rigs with Fender combos, and so on.

Heavy electric guitar strings are an important part of the Vaughan recipe, but remember that Stevie tuned down a half-step – you'll want to do the same if you plan on performing his gargantuan bends on girthy gauges.

Choose your Strat carefully for lightness and resonance, and set your amp's controls to produce a clear, beefy clang from the neck pickup. (Fender Super Reverbs do this naturally.)

Recorded at the legendary FAME Studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, blues guitar master Kirk Fletcher’s new album Heartache by the Pound is due to be released on July 29th via his independent label Ogierea Records. 

Ahead of the album’s release, Fletcher has dropped the lead single "Afraid to Die, Too Scared to Live" accompanied by a stylish film noir-esque music video.

Following up 2020’s My Blues Pathway, this self-produced collection of soulful, gospel-flavoured numbers has been cited as Fletcher’s most personal and powerful work to date.

“I got back to my gospel and blues roots,” Fletcher says. “I really wanted to do a blues record, so I sat down and allowed the songs to take over.

"I’m a bluesman, and I write about life. That’s the concept.”

Following the Covid lockdown, Fletcher returned to the U.S. from Switzerland where he had been holed up writing new material in collaboration with bassist Richard Cousins (The Robert Cray Band, Van Morrison.)

Entering the hallowed ground of FAME Studios for a three-day recording session, Fletcher’s backing band comprised some of the best players around, notably keyboardist Reese Wynans (Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble, Buddy Guy, John Mayall); drummer Terrence F. Clark (Robert Cray Band, Joss Stone); and bassist Randy Bermudes (The Fabulous Thunderbirds, Charlie Musselwhite.)

“FAME is the mother church for soul music,” commented Fletcher. “It’s the same building where all these fantastic people like Otis Rush and Aretha Franklin have recorded.

“I wanted the vibe. I needed to bring these songs there.”

Pre-order Heartache by the Pound here.

Today, on the anniversary of his passing, we remember Irish blues-rock legend Rory Gallagher.

Born in Ballyshannon, County Donegal, Ireland, the first pieces Gallagher attempted to play were cowboy songs and Irish folk tunes on acoustic guitar, beginning at age nine.

American rock ‘n’ rollers such as Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran, Elvis Presley, and Chuck Berry had an early impression on the budding guitarist, though he discovered blues, à la Leadbelly and Woody Guthrie, by way of Lonnie Donegan’s British skiffle hits.

At 15, Gallagher joined the Fontana Show Band, which toured England and Ireland. The constant work helped refine his playing, but the commercial nature of the repertoire caused him to look elsewhere for artistic satisfaction, jamming with the group's drummer and bassist in small clubs throughout Europe.

By 1966, Gallagher had formed Taste, the now legendary blues-rock trio, comprised of Eric Kitteringham on bass, Norman Demery on drums, and Gallagher on guitar, vocals, and, occasionally, saxophone.

In 1969, the group signed with Polydor Records, but had disbanded by the following year, at which point the guitarist began to pursue a solo career in earnest.

Throughout the ‘70s, Gallagher recorded a steady stream of solos albums, picking up legions of fans along the way and establishing himself as one of the era’s most influential guitarists.

In this interview extract from the March 1978 issue of Guitar Player, Gallagher talks about his various musical styles and techniques and the gear he used to arrive at his distinctive, energetic sound.

What he has to say about blues and rock ‘n’ roll should be required reading for any guitarist...

Hypothetically, if you were teaching blues guitar at a school, how would you go about it?

I’d keep it within a reasonably rigid blues framework, just to keep it on center. A lot of it would depend on what music the student had been exposed to.

I mean, if your parents were interested in music anyway – your father, for instance, had a couple of Bill Broonzy or Lonnie Johnson albums – or you were brought up listening to jazz programs on the BBC where they'd slot in the odd blues thing, you'd obviously have a head start.

Otherwise, you'd probably get into blues through rock 'n' roll – through Chuck Berry or maybe “High Heeled Sneakers” by Tommy Tucker. Then with the Rolling Stones era, you could sneak into the blues thing that way.

In my case, I started on the proverbial Lonnie Donegan skiffle music trail, where I heard Lonnie doing Leadbelly songs, such as “Rock Island Line” and “Bring Me A Lil' Water Silvy.”

Before I even owned records by Woody Guthrie or Big Bill Broonzy, I used to get library books out in Cork – because you couldn't buy the albums in Britain – and I’d learn the lyrics to these songs.

But at the same time I was interested in rock 'n' roll – such as Buddy Holly. Eddie Cochran, Chuck Berry, and Fats Domino. I was listening to both of these strains, because at lots of points they'd cross.

Once you get beyond the Chuck Berry/Eddie Cochran thing, you begin to figure out that you've got Broonzy at one end of the scale – and that goes right back to the old tradition of Charley Patton – then John Lee Hooker has the Detroit electric blues style, which evolved from his acoustic style.

And you also get the Josh White sort of folkie style of blues. You just have to listen to a lot of records.

Which records do you think are essential for someone who wants to get into blues?

I suppose you'd have to go back to one of the main sources, say, either Robert Johnson, Lemon Jefferson, Willie McTell, or Leadbelly. The two Robert Johnson records [King Of The Delta Blues Singers, Vols. I & II] are obviously cornerstones; you'd have to get at least one of those.

It’s pretty hard to zone in on it, because some guys mightn't get into Robert Johnson and might prefer, say, Willie McTell. But if we try to break it down to the key blues albums, I think that a Robert Johnson record would have to be included.

Then Blind Boy Fuller is another favorite of mine, especially that album With Bull City Red and Sonny Terry, with “Pistol Slapper Blues” on it.

I think that Broonzy album where he does “Banker’s Blues” [The Young Big Bill Broonzy] is an important one, because he was broadening the scale.

It’s different from the ones he made around 1950, where it was blues plus ballads.

The Best Of Muddy Waters [reissued as Sail On] is definitely an archetypal electric blues album.

Do you think albums by people such as Elmore James and Howlin’ Wolf are important listening?

Oh yeah. You'd have to get The Real Folk Blues by Wolf, with “Spoonful” and “Shake For Me” [reissued in part on Howlin’ Wolf: the Chess Box] for Hubert Sumlin’s electric blues guitar.

He's the great undiscovered, underrated lead player. And Wolf himself harks back vocally to Charley Patton, and, besides, he plays a little bit of slide guitar here and there, too – like on “Down In The Bottom.”

And his harmonica playing is important, even though everyone seems to write it off as just, “He plays harmonica.” I think he plays good gut-bucket harmonica.

Which of Elmore James's albums would you single out?

Its hard to pin down one album for him, because there are so many oddball ones. I've got one on Ember Records – just sort of a bargain label – and it was reruns of some of his stuff, like “Sunnyland,” “Standing At The Crossroads.” and “Dust My Broom” yet again.

I find that any Elmore James album is good.

What about the older country blues players?

In terms of intensity, Son House has to be listened to. Of all the blues players, that's probably the closest connection with Africa. I've got that one album, with “John the Revelator.” [The Legendary Father Of Folk Blues] That's an ace album.

If people come to hear you in concert, and they want to learn how to play guitar themselves, do you think it's more important for them to buy your records or these old records you spoke of?

To learn guitar? Well, I write a lot of my own stuff, so it's a cross between ego and the heritage thing.

If you want to play like Rory Gallagher, I think you'd buy my records. But if you want to pick up on whatever echoes of the bluesmen that I respect and love, certainly go ahead and buy some blues records.

In my case, I’d say the obvious influences would be Hubert Sumlin, Earl Hooker, and Buddy Guy, electrically; and, acoustically, Blind Boy Fuller and Blind Blake, though I can't get anywhere near what Blake does.

But you see, I never started out to become a strict recreator of the blues or even a modern young bluesman, as it were. I mean, I wanted to be me.

I'm a huge blues fan, but I still have a bit of Eddie Cochran and Buddy Holly hovering around in my head, plus certain folk people, such as Doc Watson – a pretty wide range of listening.

What type of instrument would you recommend for an acoustic blues novice to start on?

With acoustic guitar, for the first couple of years at least, I think you should leave a wound third string on and really build up strength in the fingers. In other words, don't try bending strings the first week you buy the guitar.

Kids are lucky nowadays; you can get a Yamaha or something, and the cheaper model guitars are much better quality than they were years ago when you got this stuff with terrible action.

The first guitar I got cost just over four pounds, which was about twenty dollars then, in the good old days.

After a while you get that urge to say, “To hell with this – I’m going to bend this string,” instead of sliding up. But you have to build that up.

But do you think a student should start out with, say, a wooden Yamaha or a metal-bodied National such as you sometimes play?

Well, lets put it this way: If you're a kid with ears the size of the moon and an amazing sense of direction, who heard Son House or Blind Boy Fuller or any of the National steel-body players and said, “They're the people I want to play like,” then go ahead and buy the National, because that's a great place to start.

But if you start with a National. you're talking about a guitar that weighs quite a bit.

Do you use a wound or an unwound third string on the National?

A wound third, because the numbers I happen to play need that fairly stiff action. I don't do any Broonzy-type bending with light strings on the National, whereas on a Martin acoustic I probably would.

Do you use an acoustic onstage?

I do; I play a Martin D-35. I use the National for things like “Pistol Slapper Blues,” which I play faster than Blind Boy Fuller did, and a J.B. Hutto song called “Too Much Alcohol,” which he plays electric, of course.

There's always the nature of the banjo in the National, I find, and you have to play it sort of like that. I do anyway.

Do you play acoustic with a plectrum or your fingers?

With a plectrum and the fingers. I fool around with National metal fingerpicks and the plastic ones sometimes.

How is your Martin set up?

Well, that's set up with the same strings, because at present I'm doing numbers like Leadbelly’s “Out On The Western Plain,” where the tuning is D - A - D - G - A - D [low to high]. It’s [open] D tuning, except that the G remains a G [rather than major third/F#.]

What do you use for an electric guitar?

I have two different electrics. I have a [Fender] Stratocaster with Fender light gauge Rock And Roll strings, which I use for basic playing and some slide work in straight tuning.

I also have a [Fender] Telecaster for A tuning and other open tunings, for songs like “Bullfrog Blues.”

Why the Stratocaster?

Well, that's the eternal argument among Fender fans. Buddy Holly had a Strat, and as a child you go after the appearance of a guitar; I don't care what anyone says. You look at the shape of the thing, and that's it. I've tried Gibsons, but I'm not a great fan of humbucking pickups.

Why is that?

Because as you bring down the volume from 10 to 9 to 8, after that – forget it; the guitar loses its sensitivity and drive.

Whereas with the single-coil or P-90 pickups – one of the old Gibson units with the black or white plastic covers – the volume control goes down nice and gradually, and even at 6 the guitar is still doing something.

Why do you usually switch to the Telecaster for slide?

I like a good bright tone, and I like the out-of-phase sound you can get with the switch set between the normal positions on a Strat.

Its comfortable, the scale seems right, and I like having the machine heads on one side – it just seems to make sense.

But if you want, say, a more luxurious, fatter sound, the Gibson guitar certainly would do the job, and it's got an extra fret – if anybody ever touches that fret; I'm sure they don't.

I thought it had a certain steel guitar type of tone which would work well with slide, but I was frustrated with the rhythm [neck/front] pickup – I thought it was too thin. So I put a Strat pickup there, and it remained that way for a year.

Then I said, “To hell with it – I’ll do the Telecaster à la Strat,” so now I've got two Strat pickups and a Tele lead pickup and a five-way Strat toggle switch.

It’s like the best of both worlds with the Telecaster lead pickup, which is slightly hotter than a Stratocaster’s.

What do you use for a slide?

It depends; I shift around. I sometimes use a bottleneck on my ring finger for electric stuff; otherwise I've got two stainless steel tubes, which I sometimes use on my small finger or the ring finger. They get a more stinging, Muddy Waters sound.

You get a different sound depending on what slide you use. For instance, if you're playing slide on a National with a glass slide, forget it.  You have to have something like steel or, even better, copper. Son House used copper, and I've got one of those as well.

What type of amplification do you use?

For years I used a Vox AC30, which is the best all-around European amp I've ever come across. I still have it. The Shadows used to use them, and the Beatles used them, so you know it was the popular amp.

But I found that when using the [Dallas Rangemaster] treble booster, that along with the treble boost you got a built-in gain, because the transistors were fairly primitive.

If I used the normal input – which was very bassy, as opposed to the brilliant input – I could get that nice rough edge without getting into a very fuzzy sound.

I used that for years, and I've had odds and sods in between, but then I moved on to an old Fifties tweed Fender Twin, which I still have.

Then I got into a tweed Fender Bassman, and recently I got a Fender Concert, which is an old brown one, from around 1959, with four 10” speakers.

I use a Hawk booster through that just to roughen it up a bit, or if it's a quiet number I plug straight in and keep the guitar clean sounding.

Do you think it's advantageous to learn acoustic before moving on to electric?

Well, I played acoustic for two or three years before I bought an electric. I wasn't particularly interested in electric for the first couple of years, because I was a Lonnie Donegan fan.

I think it's better to start on acoustic and then get into electric, but you could get into a fistfight over that. I mean, some people would say, “To hell with acoustic guitar; it never existed. You've got to get a solidbody right away.”

Fair enough, but I think they're missing out. Even if you're going to become the consummate 1978 electric guitarist, I think you're missing out on an awful lot, if only for the fun of playing an acoustic guitar at home as a hobby.

And it's nice to go from the acoustic, where even at the best of times the action is fairly taut, to the electric with light strings, where you float around like jelly. If you're always playing on light-gauge strings, you'll never really build up strength and subsequently real volume without turning up your amp yet again.

Are there any other techniques that you can adapt from acoustic to electric?

If you never played acoustic the odds would probably be three-to-one that you might never get into, say, playing with a plectrum and fingers or ever get interested in the various acoustic right-hand things.

I think if you're just playing with a flatpick full-time, you're only half playing the guitar.

So would you advise learning to fingerpick with bare fingers, with fingerpicks, or with a plectrum and the fingers?

Well, if you could wave a magic wand, you should tell the person to try all forms and be familiar with them all – anything instead of just using the plectrum alone.

I think at some point in every song you're going to need the fingers.

If you're interested in classical guitar, it's nice to get a couple of years training at that, and then you'd have very strong hands, and you could skip thumbpicks and metal picks or whatever.

Do you use fingerpicks mainly for volume, or do you use them for a specific sound?

I would use them for volume, you know, and to save wear and tear.

If I were a highly developed thumb-and-fingers person I’d just use the bare skin, but you do get the real sharp, biting sound with the metal claws.

Gary Davis just used the one plastic fingerpick, and he seemed to make great sense out of that.

So you think it's very important for a student to learn to use their fingers as well as a pick.

Yeah, even if they never touch folk or blues music. Of course, the sky's the limit nowadays, and I suppose for Chuck Berry rock 'n' roll it doesn't matter too much, but even Keith Richards uses his fingers on things like “Honky Tonk Woman.”

Do you think it's important for a guitarist to learn to read music?

I did it by ear, listening to records. I never had a teacher, and I regret that I can’t read music. I went into the library once and got Teach Yourself How To Read Music or something, and it said, “Sit down at your piano.” We didn't have a piano, so that went down the chute.

Then I worked out F, A, and C and gave up, because I was too impulsive, and I was already delighted that I could play “Lost John” and a couple of other songs.

Then, next thing, I was playing blues and rock 'n' roll, which is fairly instinctive and primitive stuff anyway. But later on you start getting beyond the open tunings and ragtime blues, you know, and you're listening to someone like Diango Reinhardt or modern jazz guitarists, even bossa nova stuff like Charlie Byrd, and you begin to feel a little inadequate if you're an all-around guitar fan.

So you get a couple of books on chords and try to make sense of that. That's where the reading would probably come in; it would help if you were a bit of a jazz fan.

When recording with other musicians, do you find that not knowing written music limits your ability to communicate ideas in the studio?

No, that's no problem. Because you can hum it to them or play it on the guitar. I don't think that's the drawback; the only drawback is if you were interested in playing a classical piece verbatim, or you wanted to play a Charlie Christian solo and really wanted to find out all the notes that he played and the harmony and theory thing behind it.

Sometimes you say. “To hell with it; it doesn't matter anyway,” but it kind of does matter. I’d say a year or two of just learning a little bit of theory wouldn't do any harm. Even tablature foxes me; I have no head for mathematics.

What advice could you give in terms of practicing the guitar?

Well, it's like the old cliché: You have to love the instrument and the idea of the instrument and the whole aura of the thing, and that will dictate how much you practice, really.

I don't think you have to sit down for eight hours a day or anything, but if you're really interested, you'll probably do that anyway in the early stages – and even after that, between trying to write songs and experimenting with notes and loosening your fingers.

I think you're bound to get in an hour or two a day anyway, although some guys say they only play five minutes a day outside the gig.

Could you offer any advice for guitarists wanting to become professionals?

If you wanted to get into, say, electric blues, I’d get into a band as soon as possible, no matter how bad it is.

Don’t be too proud – get into some kind of band; get playing with a drummer. That's essential for electric blues.

If you want to play acoustic music on your own, just hurry up and get a gig if you can; get out there and play in front of people.

You feel that playing in front of people is an important thing to do as soon as possible?

Yes, it brings something out. I know for a fact that if I'm off the road for a long spell, even if I'm rehearsing like mad and playing a lot at home, the real crunch comes when I get out in front of people.

The things you thought were really hot in rehearsal don't make any sense, because quite often you've forgotten the basic drive.

In rehearsals sometimes the basics get glossed over, because you're fooling around too much with the frilly stuff. If you get out there in front of an audience, drop your pick or break a string, that toughens you up, and it brings out projection in your playing.

You have to direct your playing somewhere – unless you want to sit in a room like the painter looking at the painting he's just done, and he won't show it to anybody.

You do get people like that, who think there's no one in the city who's good enough to play with. But even acoustic players should get to a folk club and listen to other people, play with other people.

There's always a thin line between studying the old records by the old masters and trying to develop yourself. I think both can be done at the same time, because if you forget the old masters, you miss out on a whole heritage and a whole world, really.

But you shouldn't get too clogged up with the old stuff to the point where you won't be moving on yourself, because you won't end up like an old master yourself anyway, you know.

Order the Rory Gallagher 1971 debut solo album 50th anniversary edition here.

Every aspect of Vernon Reid and his music defies easy categorization.

He's a rock ‘n’ roller who came of age musically as a member of a free-form jazz group. He's a high-wattage screamer whose secret ambition was to master fingerstyle ragtime guitar.

Soloing, he can move convincingly from pentatonic riffing to post-Ornette Coleman chromatacism and back again in just a measure or two.

In this archive gem, Reid talks about Coleman’s fascinating harmolodic concept and discusses the lineage of blues, providing some interesting food for thought along the way.

We hope you enjoy this interview extract from the October 1988 issue of Guitar Player…

Your playing over the years has a lot of continuity. Even though Living Colour sounds very different from the Decoding Society, you don't seem to have compromised your approach in an attempt to "go rock."

It's funny – rock was the music I felt I had the clearest voice in. I was always struggling with jazz, even though I loved it. I loved Dolphy, Coltrane, and Ornette so much that I tried to integrate the two things.

The Decoding Society was a school for solidifying what I really wanted to do; it was my chance to integrate the blues with the harmolodic concept, to pick and choose and make it really coherent.

Could you explain the harmolodic concept?

The harmolodic approach was developed by Ornette Coleman. It's a theory of music that frees melody from its subservience to harmony.

Traditionally, certain chords dictate certain melodic lines, but in Ornette's theory, melody, harmony, and rhythm are free from each other; they can interact on different levels. You can play things in different keys and make it work because the combination of keys creates another, freer tonal center.

Everyone has had the experience of being somewhere, listening to music, and then hearing a radio outside playing different music. For a brief moment, you hear the two songs together and you perceive the consonances between them. 

Harmolodic theory tries to synthesize that moment.

There's a great statement that you made to the Village Voice: "I don't separate Dolphy from Sly from Monk from 'Trane because the common thing that links all these people together is the blues. The blues is what links Ornette to the Temptations or Hendrix or 'Trane."

It's true. The blues is really more than a structure; it's a feeling. Once, I heard John Gilmore play a solo with [jazz composer and band leader] Sun Ra, and he played just total sound. There was nothing linear, but the feeling of the blues came across so strongly.

Or I think of the first time I heard Dionne Warwick – such a clear, clean, but still human voice. It's interesting that Carlos Santana also credits her as an influence, since he was the first rock and roll guitarist who really grabbed me.

Blues is a thread that links all these different experiences. It's a matter of expressing the blues in one's life. Even getting past the point of, say, listening to Muddy Waters or Lonnie Johnson all the time, because when you do, you're listening to their lives.

The only things you can draw from them are things that resonate in your own life. Other than that, everything else will fall away, unless you're a total chameleon and you're trying to submerge your life.

People either try to find resonances in their lives, or they try to obscure what their life is and take on another persona.

It's like that Steely Dan song that says, "Any world that I'm welcome to is better than the one I come from." Some people will take on the persona of another player and say, "I want to be that, because I don't like my life."

Is the music an expression of your state of being, or is it something you're just taking on?

So do you consider yourself a blues player?

Yeah, I do. The blues is at the bottom of my playing. It's something that I constantly try to work with. I try to get to my center, to what I'm really feeling.

Guitar playing is a sort of feeling analysis that tries to strip away all the crap.

Sometimes you play from a predominantly pentatonic vocabulary, and at other times you use more open, chromatic sounds. Do you shift gears conceptually when you move from a pentatonic idiom to a chromatic one?

Part of it is a matter of separating myself from the tonal center. Partly, it's trying to connect with the rhythm. Sometimes I concentrate purely on what's happening with the drums and free it up that way.

I also find myself working with dominant figures along with the pentatonic and chromatic things. I do find myself shifting gears, but I'm not sure whether it's a conscious thing.

When I'm practicing, I try to think of that stuff, but when I'm performing, I try to just be in the moment.

If you like in-depth interviews with great guitar players AND you like to hear them play, then you need to listen to our No Guitar Is Safe podcast.

Presented by Guitar Player and hosted by Jude Gold, No Guitar Is Safe is free to listen to at your leisure on iTunes, Spotify, Soundcloud, or wherever you get your podcasts.

With over 150 episodes uploaded there’s plenty to get your teeth into.

So far, just some of our featured artists include Joe Satriani, Nita Strauss, John 5, Robben Ford, Steve Morse, Steve Vai, Paul Gilbert, Lita Ford, Tommy Emmanuel, Steve Lukather, Zakk Wylde, Ace Frehley, Billy Duffy, Phil X, Celisse, Nile Rodgers and many, many more besides!

Episode 99 features Samantha Fish, the soulful Kansas City-bred blues guitar player/singer, plugging in and performing songs from her album Kill Or Be Kind (Rounder Records) as well as riffing on other cool staples of her live set.

Samantha also proves "War Pigs" can be performed in blues clubs and shares the funniest banana prank since Eddie Murphy's banana shenanigans in Beverly Hills Cop. (Actually, we think Samantha's prank is funnier than Eddie's.)

In this awesome clip, Samantha performs “Gone for Good” from her Belle of the West album on a brand-new Gibson Firebird.

Watch and learn!

To hear the complete one hour interview, subscribe to or stream No Guitar Is Safe wherever you get your podcasts. 

Now on his tenth album – aptly titled Ten – Albert Cummings' highly charged live shows have seen the blues guitar master picking up legions of new fans up and down the country.

Right now, he’s out on the road with a succession of dates lined up ranging from Canada to Texas and will be lighting up Knoxville and Nashville in Tennessee this week.

“I rarely use a set list. I just let the music take me where it’s going to go,” he told Guitar Player. “My style of music is completely off the cuff.”

Released last month via Ivy Music, Ten was recorded in Peter Frampton’s Phenix Studios in Nashville with legendary engineer/producer Chuck Ainlay (Dire Straits & Mark Knopfler, Taylor Swift, Dolly Parton.)

Right out of the gate, Ten proved something of a hit, reigning at number one on the iTunes Blues Chart while debuting at number two on the Billboard Blues Albums chart.

Testament to its broad appeal, Ten also managed to reach the top 20 on the Americana/Folk Album Chart, while gaining entry into the Top New Artist, Record Label Independent Current Albums, and Current Digital Albums charts.

Following up the release of the album’s first single – “Need Somebody” – Cummings has dropped another standout track, “Meet the Man.”

Accompanying the new single is an intimate video featuring Cummings, trusty Stratocaster in hand, performing the song alone from beginning to end.

Framed as a farewell from someone facing their own mortality, Cummings says, “It is a song that has deep personal meaning to me, but I think it’s universal and an inspirational song too, and I hope people take it that way.”

Order Ten by Albert Cummings here.

Eric Clapton fans will be delighted to hear Reprise Records are releasing the long-awaited documentary Nothing But the Blues in high-quality 4K format with remixed audio on DVD and Blu-ray.

Essential viewing for any blues guitar fan, the film was originally aired in the U.S. on PBS in 1995, picking up an Emmy nomination in the process.

Written and produced by Scooter Weintraub, the movie features an in-depth interview with Clapton conducted by executive producer Martin Scorsese (Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Goodfellas.) 

During their discussion, Clapton talks about his love for the blues and the artists he took inspiration from, notably Muddy Waters, B.B. King, Robert Johnson, Howlin’ Wolf, Buddy Guy and T-Bone Walker.

In addition to the newly upgraded film, fans can now also enjoy over an hour’s worth of previously unreleased soundtrack material on CD and vinyl. While the DVD and Blu-ray releases feature 20 tracks, the standalone CD and 2-LP formats contain 17 and 18 tracks respectively.

Recorded at the Fillmore in San Francisco during Clapton’s 1994 tour in support of his multi-Platinum, Grammy-winning album From the Cradle, these songs comprise familiar blues standards as well as some lesser-known blues numbers.

A teaser from Nothing But the Blues was released a few days ago…

A Super Deluxe Edition will also be available. This release contains a Blu-ray disc, the soundtrack on double-LP and CD, plus a bonus CD with four extra tracks, namely “Driftin’,” County Jail Blues,” “Kid Man Blues,” and “It’s Too Bad.”

Also included in this fan’s treasure trove is a hardcover book, a numbered lithograph, a 12x24 poster, a set of Clapton guitar strings, custom guitar picks, and an exclusive bandana.

DVD and Blu-ray track listing is as follows:

• “Blues All Day Long”
• “Standin’ Round Crying”
• “Forty-Four”
• “It Hurts Me Too”
• “Early In The Morning”
• “Five Long Years”
• “Crossroads”
• “Malted Milk Blues”
• “Motherless Child”
• “How Long Blues”
• “Reconsider Baby”
• “Sinner’s Prayer”
• “Every Day I Have The Blues”
• “Crosscut Saw”
• “Someday After A While”
• “Have You Ever Loved  A Woman”
• “I’m Tore Down”
• “Groaning The Blues”
• “T’Ain’t Nobody’s Bizness”
• “Driftin” (Bonus Track)

Pre-order the Nothing But the Blues Super Deluxe Edition here.

On his 2021 release, See That Light, L.A. blues legend and Mavis Staples guitarist Rick Holmstrom began to address the insanity of the current climate.

“Everybody’s staring at a screen, but we can’t see what’s in front of us,” he writes in one lyric. But on January 6 of that year, while waiting for See That Light to come out, the world became exponentially crazier.

“The news was driving me batty, so I started getting together with the guys, just playing and recording,” Holmstrom says.

“We were looking ahead to when we could get back together, have barbecues and listen to music. We were not thinking about anything other than entertaining ourselves and then being thrilled when we heard the playback. With the other record not yet released, it was nuts to be doing this, but it felt so good.”

Holmstrom, along with Staples’ bandmates Steve Mugalian on drums and Gregory Boaz on bass, found themselves quickly churning out Get It! (LuEllie Records), a record of short guitar instrumentals that hark back to the heyday of the Meters and Freddie King.

For this rapid release, the guitarist favored a small tube amp. “I used my Valco-made Bronson with one 10-inch field-coil speaker, two 6V6 power tubes and octal preamp tubes,” the guitarist says.

“It is the Valco equivalent of a tweed Fender Harvard. I used it with a reverb tank and an SIB Electronics Echodrive delay pedal set for just a hint of slapback. It was recorded with a Shure SM57 up close and a condenser mic a few feet away from the amp. When you hear tremolo, it is a tweed Fender Tremolux.

“I like amps that have the bias tremolo. You can set the depth to a sweet spot, where you can hear it but it’s not such a choppy, on/off sound. It’s a little greasier and more organic.”

Most of the tracks were recorded in Mugalian’s garage on a Zoom multitrack recorder.

“I mixed the record at Pacifica, a low-budget studio where I did many of my earlier blues albums,” he recalls.

“We did a lot of re-amping. We would put the whole drum kit through a guitar amp, and do the same thing to the guitar. We took the recorded Shure SM57 mic track from the Valco and ran it back through a Fender Tremolux or Vibrolux, just barely on, with two stereo condenser mics placed six or seven feet away from the amp.

"We would just put a taste of that track into the mix to add a bit more air, because the garage sounded kind of claustrophobic.”

Air is a crucial part of Holmstrom’s sound.

Though initially not a fan of the trio format, he eventually became fond of the intimate thing that happens when three people perform together.

“You throw a fourth person in and it changes everything,” he says.

Many guitarists, recording or playing in a trio scenario, would attempt to fill the space with distortion, flurries of notes or overdubs.

But while he’s adept at a style that lets him often play rhythm and lead simultaneously, Holmstrom is also unafraid of space.

“My friend and mentor Junior Watson came to see one of my first trio gigs in Long Beach,” he relates. “He said, ‘Man, the way you used space was great. You just hit a chord and let it ring out.’ I think it sounded good to do that because the room was so lively. I started doing it more often.”

The guitar on most of the record is Holmstrom’s 1953 Fender Telecaster that he has dubbed the Mariachi, but some of the dirtier tunes, like “Pour One Out” and “King Freddie,” feature his 1955 Gibson Les Paul Special.

It sports a push/pull pot on the bridge pickup tone knob that throws the two pickups out of phase for that vintage blues guitar honk.

“It’s a TV model that has been refinished,” he explains. “It’s got all kinds of stuff wrong with it, which scared away the collectors. That’s the only reason I could afford to buy it.”

The track “G for Junior” references Watson, a master of the West Coast swing shuffle. Holmstrom demonstrates that the pupil has learned well, while making the style his own. Here, he exhibits a grittier Telecaster tone, turning the amp up and driving it with the tube preamp of the SIB.

Though it may appear that he is playing exclusively with his fingers, the guitarist actually has a pick clutched between his first and second digits at all times.

“It started when I was playing with William Clark,” he explains. “Guys like Smokey Wilson, Philip Walker and others would come down after work, wearing their mechanics uniforms. Sometimes they would get up and play with us. I saw that none of them had picks.

“Maybe someone like Jimmy Rogers would have a thumb pick and some other pick on his finger, but most of what I was hearing from these old guys was the flesh of their fingers. I started trying to do that more, but I wouldn’t put the pick down.

“It somehow just migrated into my fingers; I didn’t even think about it. I sometimes use it when I’m playing rhythm or when I need to be cleaner, louder or faster.”

Another Holmstrom trademark is how his body motion seems so integrated into his playing. According to him, it’s connected to his listening process, and his first concern: rhythm. “That’s something I’ve been doing ever since I started playing,” he says.

“It’s like I’m off somewhere else listening to the groove of the whole group, and I’m definitely very rhythm conscious.

“I’ve been working with a metronome for many years, because a drummer I was playing with when I was younger told me, ‘You need to get a metronome, set it on two and four and make the music swing like crazy, or you’re wasting your time.’ I’m trying to do that.”

For Holmstrom, one advantage of lockdown was the opportunity to dive deep into the details and nuances of his guitar playing. A record he has been studying is Little Milton’s Chess album Sings Big Blues, which features chestnuts like “Sweet Sixteen” and the Milton classic “Feel so Bad.”

“Junior Watson told me in the late ’80s to get that record and practice along with it,” Holmstrom says. “I put it on a year or two ago, when all this started. I’d forgotten how much stuff I’d picked up from Milton. But there are some things I had learned wrong. Like, sometimes it’s not the flat seven but the sixth, bent up.”

He also began to examine the pick-up notes leading to the downbeat.

“I started to hear that on the Little Milton record,” he explains. “Then I went back to Freddie King and all these other people I was into in my early 20s and realized it’s the feel of the pick-up notes that makes it.”

For years, Holmstrom has been known as a blues master, and rightly so, but he is much more. Even at his “bluesiest,” he separates himself from many of the genre’s current generation by eschewing any hint of a Stevie Ray Vaughan influence, or cranking up the distortion to blues-rock levels.

Instead he exhibits excellence in lesser-exposed styles, like West Coast swing, Slim Harpo funk and Lightnin’ Hopkins’ down-and-dirty one-man band approach.

On the other end of the spectrum, he has pushed the tradition’s envelope by adding hip-hop production techniques to his 2007 release, Hydraulic Groove.

All of the above has been absorbed into a personal approach and sound that is instantly recognizable.

In more recent times, Holmstrom has added a deep knowledge and feel for gospel to his arsenal, with more songs reflecting the gentle, almost country lope of some of the early church styles.

“For many years, Mavis and her sister Yvonne would sit behind us while our band did a little instrumental section,” Holmstrom says. “I used to play the gospel tune ‘Oh, Mary Don’t, You Weep.’ I was knocked out by the Swan Silvertones’ version.

“Sometimes, I might not know what I felt like doing and would look over at Mavis for inspiration. She’d go, ‘You know what I want.’ ‘Oh Mary’ is a gospel feel with brushes or light sticks and a lot of air.”

The final song on Get It! – “Walking With Diane” – reflects this aspect of the guitarist’s playing.

“That song is about my mom, and I was trying to write something that would convey the feeling of thinking about her,” he says.

“I don’t know what you call the style. I just try to think of melodies and ways to play simple groove stuff without words. Most of this record is about fun. I’m sick of all of the existential, post-apocalyptic doom. I just want to have a funky good time. That’s all this record is.”

Order Get It! by Rick Holmstrom here.

Albert Cummings is an electric blues powerhouse. Having shared stages with guitar masters of the sheer caliber of B.B. King, Buddy Guy and Johnny Winter, among many others, he is known today as one of the greatest players on the contemporary blues guitar circuit.

Cummings arrived at the blues party later in life than you might expect, given his natural ability to stun audiences with a seemingly effortless display of jaw-dropping technique.

In fact, he was 27 years old when he first played with a band. At an age when some of the world’s greatest musicians checked out, Cummings was just checking in.

 “It was a couple of years after that when Double Trouble had me come down to Austin,” he tells Guitar Player. “Then I met B.B. King and Buddy Guy and Johnny Winter. It happened quickly. I was doing all that and still building houses.”

Yep. You heard him right: He was still building houses. And with one foot onstage and the other in the construction business, he’s still building houses today.

“There’s a song on the new album, Ten, called ‘Two Hands,’” the guitarist explains. “It’s one of my favorites, and it tells the tale of a working man. I think a lot of people are going to relate to that song.”

Relatable, open and honest, Cummings is a guitar player with whom anyone can connect.

Now, with more than two decades’ worth of solo releases under his belt, his recorded body of work catalogs a guitarist who has gone from strength to strength.

We caught up with the man himself to talk about the art of blues guitar following the release of Ten (Ivy Music Corporation), a ripper of an album recorded in Peter Frampton’s Phenix Studios in Nashville with legendary engineer/producer Chuck Ainlay.

You’re currently endorsed by Fender, but what was your first guitar?

I just inherited an old acoustic guitar that was hanging around that my father had. I remember it was an Aria jumbo. I wish I could find one again. It was fancy looking. I remember it had stars on the pickguard. But the action was just terrible! I mean you could park a truck under the strings. [laughs]

But really, whatever you have to learn on is good. Seriously, if you’re learning to play guitar, that’s great. You know, at the end of the day, it’s a piece of wood with some metal tied onto it.

You’re known for performing wild, improvisational stage shows. How did you develop that sort of approach to playing?

My father played guitar a little bit, but he had given up performing in a band just about the time I was born. I never really got to see him play regular shows, although he would get together with his old band whenever one of the sons or daughters of the band members got married. They’d always be the house band and play the wedding. So I’d get to see them do it then.

My father was really good at improvising, but only around certain solos. He’d play the melodies perfectly and then he’d stretch out a little bit. That was what got me thinking about improvising and playing something that’s not exactly the same, so you’re not just repeating yourself all the time.

How do you grab an audience’s attention?

I’ve been to shows where I’ve seen the guitarist come out and just widdle away, but where are the feelings? That’s what you see on social media all the time. Tommy Shannon [of Double Trouble] is a good friend of mine – you know, Stevie Ray Vaughan’s bass player – and we talk about this a lot.

He’s been in music stores where he’s heard bass players that are scary good, but if you put them in a band setting, they just can’t groove. They can’t make the audience stop talking. When everybody’s talking, it’s often because there’s nothing going on onstage.

What are you looking to achieve when you pick up a guitar and perform?

I’m looking to make somebody’s life better. Especially in the world today, people need something. I’ve cried playing. I’ve laughed playing. My guitar is my communicator when I’m not singing. It’s my way of communicating with people. It all sounds kind of crazy, but I love connecting with people.

What advice would you give to people learning how to play blues?

You know, when kids come to the show, I’ll give them a pick and I’ll tell the parents, “Make sure he or she is understanding there are so many greats.”

But like B.B. King told me, “Just borrow something from the ones you like.” It’s like if you go to a farmers market and you’ve got your little basket that you’re going to put your vegetables in: Pick the ones you like and bring it home. It’s just endless.

Who are some of your favorite guitarists working today?

Tommy Emmanuel is one of the greatest I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen him play live, but I’ve watched his videos. He’s completely amazing. I love it when I can’t even understand what a guitarist is doing because they’re so advanced.

Redd Volkaert is another guy like that. He played guitar for Merle Haggard, and I think he’s probably partly responsible for helping Brad Paisley learn a few things. Redd is one of those guys who you watch and go, “I don’t even know what he’s doing – is it even in the same tuning?” Because he’s just so advanced.

I love players like that because everything they’re playing has something unique to them. That’s what I like.

What about Stevie Ray?

It was his “take no prisoners” approach that I loved so much. You know, it’s a freight train and you’re not going to stop it. Stevie Ray was the first guy that really made me stop in my tracks to listen.

When I first heard Stevie Ray, I was like, “There’s no way that’s real. Nobody plays like that!” I thought it was two guitars: one hitting rhythm and one playing lead.

Early on, when I was in college, I went to see Stevie by myself, and I just remember thinking how incredible it was. I just didn’t know anybody could play like that.

That experience was so inspiring, it set me on a mission to move more toward that way of playing. It was just so powerful. And relentless. He let you see his spirit – who he was. That was Stevie Ray.

What does the blues mean to you?

To me, blues is an expression of feelings. And if you’re not willing to expose your belly and let people know how you feel through that instrument, then you’re not really revealing yourself. You’re not being yourself. No matter how good you get or what you’ve learned, you’re hiding something.

It’s a state of mind.

Exactly. And it’s very hard to teach that. I mean there’s no music school in the world that can teach that. You can say, “Here’s a chord pattern, here are the notes, charts, learn this, read this,” et cetera.

And that’s great, if you want to be a performer. But if you want to be a creator, you’ve got to go on a whole different journey. As a true creator, you don’t have a trail to follow and there’s nobody in front of you, because there’s nobody like you. You’re on your own path.

Order Ten by Albert Cummings here.

Joe Bonamassa’s Keeping the Blues Alive label certainly lives up to its name. 

Not only has it brought neglected figures such as Larry McCray and Eric Gales back into the spotlight but it’s helped raise more than one million dollars to support struggling musicians and fund blues education programs.

The label’s previous releases include Dion’s 2020 all-star hook-up Blues With Friends, as well as a pair of 2021 albums from Joanne Shaw Taylor (The Blues Album) and Joanna Connor (4801 South Indiana Avenue).

Bonamassa and his manager, Roy Weisman, founded the label with a mission to preserve arts education, with 10 percent of profits going toward donations of musical instruments and supplies to schools in need.

Their ultimate goal is to ensure blues culture and history are embraced and recognized for years to come.

Bonamassa spoke with Guitar Player about his label’s purpose and ambitions…

When you sign an act, is it with a vision and a plan for a long-term career commitment or more to raise their profile and see how things pan out?

Each artist is different. For some, we have longer-term plans, while for others we’re just trying to give them a boost so that people recognize their incredible talent.

So far we have been able to secure a number one Billboard blues album for all of our acts. We are really proud of that. Plus, it gives the artists bragging rights.

It must feel satisfying when you see the artists get the respect they deserve.

Yes. I have felt so proud of Larry McCray’s new album [Blues Without You].

He’s one of a kind and one of the nicest people on this earth. I want to try and help the world rediscover how truly incredible he is.

There are so many amazing artists out there, and sometimes the industry leaves them in the dust. We try to swoop in and help where we can. Since we’re an independent label, we can’t help everybody, but if we help some, it will all be worth it.

To support KTBA in its mission to promote music and help working musicians, visit keepingthebluesalive.org

Looking back on the years I spent developing as a guitarist, I often kick myself for having taken certain musicians for granted – guitarists who always sounded so good but whose style I dismissed as “easy” to play.

While I was focused on learning solos crowded with notes, another musical world was passing me by. This is not to say that playing a lot of notes isn’t musical; it all depends on when and how you do it.

But that’s a lesson for another day.

I save one of my hardest kicks for when I think of Bonnie Raitt.

From listening to Raitt and players like her, I learned that being a good guitarist requires playing with an emphasis on musicality and tasteful note choices, along with a dedication to making a solo serve the song.

This requires a different kind of technique, one that is more subtle and surely not easy.

I’m going to try to make up for all that lost time by exploring Raitt’s unique approach to music, and more specifically, the guitar.

It’s almost as if Raitt has two voices. When listening to her songs, her smooth and soulful vocal style is immediately apparent. But when she lays down some of her signature open-tuned slide guitar licks, it becomes clear that she is a musician of great depth.

Before we dive into her guitar work, let’s talk about Raitt’s tone.

She doesn’t require anything elaborate or wildly expensive to achieve her warm, sustaining sound. Her main electric guitar, Brownie, is a Fender Strat that pairs an unpainted 1965 body with a neck from an unknown year.

It has long been her faithful onstage companion, and she hasn’t played a show without it since the late night in 1969 when she bought it for a whopping $120. The price was right, and she loved how it sounded.

Raitt strings the guitar with a custom set of GHS Boomers, in gauges .013, .017, .020w, .032, .042 and .052.

For amplification, Bonnie plugs her Strat into a Bad Cat Black Cat 30R 1x12 combo, while ultimately achieving her warm, overdriven tone with the simple addition of a ProCo Rat distortion pedal. She recently replaced her Boss CS-2 compressor with yet another classic, the MXR Dyna Comp, which provides all the sustain she needs to conjure the long-lasting notes that are a hallmark of her style.

Add in her Dunlop bottleneck slide and custom Dunlop molded-plastic fingerpicks, and that’s it!

So let’s turn our focus to how she plays, as this is what contributes most to her unique blend of rock, R&B, blues, and soul.

Chicago blues giant Muddy Waters was a major influence on Raitt, with his electrifying guitar style and ability to sustain a long career, something she was determined to achieve for herself. Other influences include a host of blues artists such as Howlin’ Wolf, Mississippi Fred McDowell and Furry Lewis, all of whom, like Waters, played fingerstyle blues guitar and incorporated slide work.

But Raitt was also drawn to the early rock and roll of Elvis Presley and Fats Domino, as well as the 1960s folk movement led by the likes of Pete Seeger and Peter, Paul & Mary. Their emphasis on activism resonated with Bonnie, and she would soon begin an earnest dedication to environmental and human rights causes that she continues today.

An important element of Raitt’s playing is her use of open tunings and capos.

She most often plays in open A tuning (low to high: E, A, E, A, C#, E), but she also uses open G, which is the same tuning scheme transposed down one whole step (low to high: D, G, D, G, B, D). (All slide guitar examples in this lesson are presented in open G.)

Raitt often employs open strings in her rhythm and slide playing, and will often use a capo based on a song’s key, most often at the 3rd or 5th frets. For example, if her guitar is tuned to open A and the song is in the key of C major, she will often place her capo at the 3rd fret.

This will cause the open strings to produce a C chord – the tonic or “home” chord – giving her the opportunity to incorporate any “open” string she likes. 

When it comes to playing slide guitar, Raitt isn’t in a hurry.

For example, when playing a melodic theme or guitar solo, she’ll often include a long, slow slide to create a mix of anticipation and plaintive longing.

Ex. 1 illustrates this approach with a phrase in the style of “Unintended Consequence of Love,” from 2012’s Dig in Deep. (For ease of reading, all music examples that require a capo are written in the key of G major, instead of the actual sounding key. The capo-ed fret is “0” in the tab.)

 Another signature slide move of Bonnie’s is to slowly slide a note down the neck.

Ex. 2 is reminiscent of a phrase she plays in “Thing Called Love,” from her breakthrough 1989 album, Nick of Time.

Notice how the first note is left to simply hang in the air.

Like other great guitarists, she has a sublime vibrato, but she knows when not to use it.

Raitt also employs another subtle approach when sliding into a note from above, as she sometimes uses a quick slide starting from a whole step, or two frets, higher.

Inspired by “Love Letter,” also from Nick of Time, Ex. 3 demonstrates how this snarky little slide move can inject some attitude into your playing.

While playing a song in a major key, Raitt will frequently (and slyly) borrow notes from its parallel minor pentatonic scale, which is built from the same root.

For example, if a song is in the key of G major, she’ll often be inclined to use notes from G minor pentatonic, which is spelled G (the root), Bb (the minor, or “flatted,” 3rd), C (the perfect 4th), D (the perfect 5th) and F (the minor, or “flatted,” 7th).

The “blue” notes here – the b3 and b7 – are her targets, as the three remaining notes are duplicated in the G major scale (G, A, B, C, D, E, F#).

Ex. 4 is reminiscent of Raitt’s playing in “Something to Talk About,” from her 1991 Grammy-winning album, Luck of the Draw.

We’re again in the key of G major here, and, if you look at the music notation, you’ll see how Bb (the b3) and F (the b7) are borrowed from the G minor pentatonic scale. But notice how they’re prevented from coming across too harshly by quickly moving on to diatonic notes from the G major scale right next door (A and E, respectively).

This creates a sound that is as soulful as it is bluesy.

Raitt will take advantage of this approach often, and in such a way as to make it always sound fresh.

Let’s take a quick detour to discuss Raitt’s rhythm guitar style, when she’ll often give her slide a rest. If you’re unfamiliar with her earlier albums, you might be surprised to hear her playing in a more traditional blues style.

Ex. 5 brings to mind “Love Me Like a Man” from her 1972 album, Give It Up.

Played without a slide, and in standard tuning, it offers up a classic fingerstyle blues, played with a triplet, or “shuffle,” feel. Be sure to use your pick-hand thumb on the third beat of bar 3, as indicated.

Raitt is especially masterful when interpreting ballads.

A great example is her cover of John Prine’s “Angel from Montgomery” from 1974’s Streetlights. In it, she uses both strumming and fingerpicking in the vein of Ex. 6.

The guitarist strums with the tips of her plastic fingerpicks, but if you don’t own a set, you can use the tips of your fingers in much the same way.

Note the use of drop-D tuning here, where the low E string is tuned down one whole step, to D, and a capo at the 2nd fret. Raitt will often alternate between overtly stating a song’s groove and sneakily playing her rhythm parts tucked into the band.

Ex. 7 is reminiscent of “Ain’t Gonna Let You Go” from her 2012 Grammy-winning album, Slipstream, where she lays down a funky blues groove, without using her slide.

In these situations, Raitt will often wear it – on her middle finger, as always – to give her the option to use it if she wants to.

Bonnie most often chooses to perform music by other songwriters and will commonly invest three to four years into sorting through songs in order to find an album’s worth of material to record.

However, she does perform her own songs as well. “Give It Up or Let Me Go,” a song she wrote for her album Give It Up, features her plucking fretted notes, then switching to slide partway through, making its entrance a welcome surprise.

Ex. 8 is inspired by her unaccompanied intro on this track. Raitt loves to let notes ring a tad longer than you think she might.

To accomplish this, she gently coaxes them along with a wide vibrato.

To give this a try, see Ex. 9, which is based on “Love Sneakin’ Up On You” from 1994’s Longing in Their Hearts.

Summon a wide vibrato by quickly wiggling, or “wagging,” your slide back and forth, covering the area between the adjacent frets on either side.

This technique, combined with the use of a compressor pedal, gives the guitarist the sustain she needs to wring everything out of each note, a hallmark of her style.

Bonnie Raitt’s phrasing and touch are what place her among a select group of soulful and expressive guitarists who make you sit up and listen even though it can be confounding to figure out just what makes them sound so good.

There’s a lot going on “behind the scenes” of Raitt’s seemingly effortless approach to music that has enabled her to achieve the Muddy Waters-like longevity she envisioned for herself over 50 years ago.

To her credit, she has consistently done it in her own self-effacing, understated way – all the while making it look “easy.”

A year before Bob Dylan went electric with a sunburst Fender Stratocaster at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival, a bluesman who hadn’t recorded and had rarely performed since the 1930s stunned the festival’s crowd of 15,000 spectators with an electrifying performance of his own.

Just weeks earlier, Nehemiah Curtis “Skip” James had been recovering from cancer treatments in a Tunica, Mississippi hospital when John Fahey and two friends tracked down the 61-year-old legend and persuaded him to play again.

His re-emergence came during the 1960s blues revival at a time that also saw the “rediscovery” of Bukka White, Son House, Mississippi Fred McDowell, Mississippi John Hurt and others, who played to new audiences and scored record deals.

Armed only with an acoustic guitar and a microphone, Skip James captivated the Newport audience with his high falsetto and spidery fingerpicking that often commanded all 10 of his fingers.

“Skip at Newport ’64 was just transcendent. It was incredible,” recalls Dick Waterman, who witnessed the performance and later managed James’ career until his death in 1969.

“He sat down and he set his fingers down on the fretboard, and he took a breath and hit the first note of ‘Devil Got My Woman,’ and it was just incredible. Just shivers even at the memory of it.”

It’s safe to say no one else at Newport was playing blues guitar the way James did at the time – not House and not White, who were also on the bill in 1964.

Instead of the more commonly used open-G and open-E major-key tunings, James played in a D-minor tuning, which lent songs like “Hard Time Killing Floor” and “Cypress Grove” an ominous tone. The tuning was so particular that it became associated with Bentonia, Mississippi, James’ hometown, through a succession of players.

“In other regional styles of Delta blues, you may have an open-tuned guitar where the minor gets introduced against the major chord,” says Ryan Lee Crosby, a Massachusetts-based blues artist who learned Bentonia blues from Jimmy “Duck” Holmes, the last living musical link to James.

“But in the Bentonia style, it’s a minor chord, where major notes get added on top, so the tension between the major and minor is inverted.”

This differentiator sets up the darker, minor-key sound of Bentonia standards, but there are also other structural differences – or, rather, a lack of structure, as there are no choruses and few turnarounds in Bentonia blues, and no set number of times to repeat a pattern.

The droning, hypnotic tones come from ringing the open strings with the thumb or forefinger while fingerpicking, and frailing across the strings with the others.

While James doesn’t have the household-name recognition of B.B. King, Muddy Waters or Robert Johnson, his influence has never been stronger among blues and folk musicians. The Carolina Chocolate Drops, a folk collective that launched the careers of Rhiannon Giddens, Dom Flemons and Leyla McCalla, carries his penchant for freeform, minor-key romps.

Emerging blues guitarists and singers like Buffalo Nichols and Adia Victoria wear his influence even more prominently.

“I came into Skip James’ music at the perfect time in my life,” says Victoria, who discovered him around the time she got her first guitar, at age 21. 

“I felt spoken to in a way that I’d never felt spoken to. I felt reached and seen. And I felt like, through Skip James, I became more in touch and aware of my culture as a Black southerner, in a way that I hadn’t been before.”

James’ 1960s revival didn’t last long. Before his cancer roared out of remission in 1967, his handlers squandered the considerable buzz he had created at Newport. By the time Waterman helped him get a record contract in late 1965, more palatable blues artists like Hurt were getting more attention, gigs and money.

It didn’t help that James, by all accounts, was a proud man who felt his playing was of higher artistic merit than his contemporaries on the folk blues scene.

“He was a very different, difficult, contrary kind of person,” Waterman says. “In other words, Skip had a huge ego and he loved to be flattered, and the best way to get along with Skip was to be flattering and tell him how great he was. 

"He felt he himself was performing at a much, much higher level, which may or may not be true, depending on how you look at it. He definitely was not ‘one of the guys.’”

Bentonia, Mississippi, sits atop the hills that rise above the vast alluvial Delta, where blues music evolved at sharecropper plantations and juke joints, makeshift venues where laborers could find music and moonshine.

Like many former farming outposts across the South, Bentonia is bisected by a railroad whose trains don’t bother stopping anymore. The only thing riding these rails are freighters headed north and south on the same tracks that dropped Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf in Chicago.

The Blue Front Café, considered the oldest juke operating in Mississippi, still stands next to the tracks in the center of town. Behind the cinderblock façade and barred front doors, locals mosey in to buy cigarettes and sundries, lingering sometimes to talk to the proprietor, Jimmy “Duck” Holmes.

At 74, Holmes is not only an elder statesman – he’s also the last of the Bentonia bluesmen.

The walls of the Blue Front are covered with faded posters and snapshots of the Bentonia Blues Festival, which Holmes has run for five decades. Music equipment is everywhere – microphone stands at half mast, guitars mounted onto the cinderblock and shiplap walls, a pair of dusty Peavey guitar amps on the floor under a pile of cables.

On a folding card table, copies of his eighth album, the Grammy-nominated Cypress Grove (Easy Eye Sound, 2019), are stacked for sale. Holmes recorded the collection of potent and haunted performances from the Bentonia canon – the title track, “Hard Times” and “Devil Got My Woman” were part of the original 26 sides James recorded for Paramount Records for $40 in 1931 – with the Black Keys at Dan Auerbach’s studio in Nashville.

“There’s an urgency with getting any of these types of people in the studio, older musicians that are sort of one of a kind,” Auerbach says. “The whole thing just felt like a blessing, really, just to be able to get to do it. And to share the love of the music and live in Jimmy’s world for a little bit.”

Holmes didn’t learn the Bentonia blues from James, who played the Blue Front occasionally. James and another Bentonia artist, Jack Owens, both learned from a man named Henry Stuckey, who lived in the area and, for a time, on the Holmes farm.

Stuckey allegedly learned the open D-minor tuning from a group of Bahamian soldiers he met in France during World War I and brought it home. Owens began to teach Holmes off and on beginning in the late ’70s, and by the ’90s the pair were playing daily at the Blue Front.

“I picked up some licks from him, which I was doing all along, but he was a hard act to follow,” Holmes says. 

“He wanted me to learn it, and I think now, from a divine perspective, he wanted me to learn it but he didn’t know how to teach it. He would come every day and say, ‘Boy, let’s play. You’ve got to learn to do this.’”

Over the past few years, Holmes has taken on the role of instructor to younger players who visit him at the Blue Front. Robert Connelly Farr, a Mississippi native who lives in Vancouver, B.C., reinterprets his lessons into thunderous back-alley blues, while Mike Munson’s adaptations are fully absorbed into his singer-songwriter compositions. Ghalia Volt, who honed her one-woman-band craft while busking in Brussels, Belgium, frequently shows up to perform at the juke.

Neither Victoria nor Nichols have made a similar pilgrimage to Bentonia, but James’ influence is a strong undercurrent in both artists’ music. On A Southern Gothic (Warner Bros.), Victoria’s third album, the Bentonia sound manifests in the eerie tension, tuning and fingerpicking on songs like “Magnolia Blues” and “Carolina Bound.”

“That D-minor tuning lends itself to some of the more melancholic aspects of human emotion, and combining that tuning with his voice, that falsetto, was very plaintive, mournful, but it could also sound manic, as well,” Victoria says. 

“His style of singing is what my internal voice sounded like. You can hear that weariness. You can hear that wisdom and that defiance, as well. It’s like a combination of dark and light that really spoke to me – that startled me, really.”

Nichols discovered James on a blues compilation when he was 12 or 13, he says, but didn’t seek out a full James collection for another five years. As a metalhead at the time, Nichols was already familiar with drop-D tuning, so transitioning to open D-minor tuning wasn’t too much of a stretch.

He eventually left behind his shredding for the organic tones of an acoustic guitar and a country-folk blues sound. For Nichols, the most enduring influence of James on his own playing isn’t what he played as much as his individualism.

“Whenever he would play songs that weren’t his, he would always make sure to play in his own style,” Nichols says. “That’s always stuck with me, because I’ve never really been the type to learn other people’s music. The two or three Skip James songs that I play are the two or three that I know. This music to me is supposed to be individual and be about the expression of the player.”

True to his word, on his cover on the James composition “Sick Bed Blues” from his 2021 self-titled debut album (Fat Possum), Nichols speeds up the tempo and improvises on the original licks with his own slide-accented descending figure.

Such improvisation is a central feature of the Bentonia sound. Holmes maintains that the songs are impossible to transcribe because they’re never played the same way twice. That’s due in part to playing from the heart, he says, but also because guys like Owens were uneducated.

“If you told Jack Owens, ‘I want you to do four counts of ‘Hard Times,’ he wouldn’t know what you’re talking about,” Holmes says. “‘Uh, can you run me an E chord?’ Have no idea what you’re talking about. Even though he could do it, but he was unaware he was doin’ it.” 

Adds Nichols, “You hear the way he plays, and the biggest challenge is you can’t really sit down and transcribe it because it’s not very predictable. 

"The way he’s going to play, it all relates to the way he sings, and if you hear him do three recordings of the same song, it’s always going to be a little different. I had to unlearn a lot of the sort of technical precision and rely more on the feeling of it.”

Victoria agrees that playing the music riff-for-riff is missing the point. James understood how to use the guitar to serve his purpose of telling honest stories. Emulating him or anyone else takes the heart out of the music.

“Skip James’ music is an invitation to use your imagination to press forward in what he did,” she says. “He’s already done that. He’s mastered that, so there’s no point in trying to replicate it. 

"But I think that he still serves a valuable lesson of how can you give sound to your mood and your world, and how can you swathe your storytelling in this oral blanket.

“And to stay out of your way,” she adds. “If the story is good, the guitar should serve you. The guitar should never be a crutch behind a lack of insight in your story. I think that was the brilliance of Skip James. His storytelling was as brilliant as his guitar playing, and vice versa.”

Browse the Skip James catalog here.