Fifteen years after her death on July 23, 2011, Amy Winehouse remains best known for her singular voice and candid songwriting. But there’s another side to her musicianship that tends to get overlooked: Winehouse was an accomplished guitarist who used the instrument to shape her songs and develop a style that was entirely her own.

Take it from Pete Doherty, singer and guitarist for the Libertines, who once watched Winehouse play up close. As Doherty told MusicRadar in 2024, Winehouse had a distinctive approach to the instrument.

“Listen, I’ve actually sat in a room with her and a guitar,” he said, “watching those tiny hands finding all these weird jazz chords. And her strumming patterns… crazy, off-kilter timings. She made it look so effortless.”

From an early age, Winehouse made electric guitar integral to her songwriting and performing, using the instrument to pen her songs as well as perform them with a unique personal touch. She first fell in love with the Fender Stratocaster as a teenager, after her older brother acquired a used model.

“It was the most beautiful thing in the world,” Winehouse recalled during a 2004 interview. “It’s such a beautiful guitar. I mean it’s got to be probably the most attractive guitar there is.”

Winehouse wasn’t supposed to play her brother’s Stratocaster, but she would carefully sneak into his room and play it whenever she had the chance. By doing so, she slowly began to develop her chops. And when she finally acquired her own guitar — an acoustic model — the siblings amicably swapped instruments back and forth.

“I just played every day. No one said to me, ‘You’ve got to play for at least this amount of time.’ It was all I wanted to do.

“It’s so easy to teach yourself if you have love for guitar. People say to me all the time, ‘How come you taught yourself?’ And there’s things people can show you, but the truth is, if you learn how to play guitar off someone, you just kind of learn to play it like them, you know what I mean? And that’s why I can say that while I’m not even an adequate guitarist, I’m still a distinctive guitarist. I sound different.”

Inspired by the likes of Carole King, PJ Harvey and Shuggie Otis, Winehouse’s self-taught musicianship and remarkable gift for songwriting resulted in a unique playing style that perfectly complemented her voice and songwriting.

The two videos below offer a glimpse of Winehouse’s unusual relationship with the instrument.

First, in a 2003 performance of “Stronger Than Me” — from her debut album, Frank, released earlier that year — Winehouse wows the studio audience on the BBC’s live music show Later… with Jools Holland, her loose, jazz-inflected rhythm-guitar style providing the song’s harmonic foundation.

We then get to see a 20-year-old Winehouse up close as she performs with nothing more than her voice and a Stratocaster at London’s Wembley Arena. The 2004 Strat Pack concert celebrated the 50th anniversary of Fender’s iconic guitar and featured an all-star lineup that included David Gilmour, Ronnie Wood and Hank Marvin.

Finally, Winehouse discussed her love of guitar and the Stratocaster in particular in a video celebrating the model’s 50th anniversary.

Some purists believe you shouldn’t mess with classic gear combinations. A Les Paul through a Marshall stack. A treble booster and Vox AC30 à la Brian May or Rory Gallagher. These are the sacred formulas of rock tone.

But Jack White wanted no part of them.

In fact, he says he “decidedly hated” the most iconic electric guitars of all.

Speaking in a new interview with Reverb, White recalled how, as a teenager searching for his own voice, he rejected Stratocasters, Les Pauls and other widely used instruments — not out of rebellion for its own sake, but out of a desire to escape what they represented.

“In my late teens,” he says, “I decidedly hated anything to do with Stratocasters, Les Pauls, [or] any of the common instruments that you see everybody use.

“I thought it’s so overused, and so indicative of ‘white boy blues’ if you had a Stratocaster.

“I would rather try to find something that didn’t have any connotations already thrown on it. So I was attracted to Silvertones and Airlines and things that you just didn’t see on TV or on videos.”

That instinct would help define his sound — and his image.

White instead embraced pawnshop oddities, most famously his fiberglass-bodied 1964 Montgomery Ward Airline Res-O-Glas, which became a key instrument in the breakthrough success of White Stripes.

Its offbeat look and raw tone perfectly matched the band’s stripped-down, anti-establishment ethos — an approach that even Alex Lifeson of Rush has said resonates deeply with him.

At the time, White wasn’t trying to make a statement. He was simply trying to be different.

“In the ’90s, I had a Silvertone guitar in Detroit, I never saw anybody use that guitar,” he says. “I never saw anybody on TV, definitely nobody playing shows or anybody I knew that owned one. So when I was using it, it felt very unique.”

The irony, he later discovered, was that these forgotten guitars had once been everywhere.

“Then you start talking to older people, and it’s like, ‘When I was a kid, that’s all anybody had, was Silvertones.’ Nobody had enough money to pay for a real guitar,” he explains.

“[It’s] different time periods, you know. It’s about trying to find uniqueness, a new voice for yourself. I didn’t wanna use the same tool that everyone else was using.

“I’m glad I did that. I’m glad I had that desire to carve something out. Because once you do that, then you can rewind and put on one of those more common guitars and get something out of it.”

Ironically, White would later come full circle, releasing his own signature Fender Telecaster — albeit one loaded with eccentric features true to his outsider spirit. He’s also continued to pursue unconventional builds, even hiring Eddie Van Halen’s go-to luthier to create a guitar-bass hybrid.

In the same interview, White also revealed that his obsession with unusual gear once led him on an eight-year search for an amplifier he didn’t even know existed. Elsewhere, he’s shared the invaluable advice he received from Prince, and his candid thoughts on what separates rock players from blues guitarists.

Despite building his early reputation on Gibson Les Pauls, Jeff Beck became one of the most celebrated Stratocaster players from the 1970s onward. But his affinity for Fender’s flagship model didn’t always translate into gentle treatment.

Dweezil Zappa learned that firsthand when he attended a costume party at the virtuoso’s house and saw a priceless vintage Strat damaged before his eyes.

As the son of Frank Zappa, and a fine guitarist in his own right, Dweezil has had many memorable meetings with guitar greats, from Eddie giving Eddie Van Halen a guitar lesson, to tapping up a ridiculous cast of shredders for his still unreleased track, “What The Hell Was I Thinking?”. This is another pearler, and it shows that, while to others, electric guitars can be near-mythic artefacts of great import to Beck, they’re simply tools of the trade.

“I was at Jeff Beck’s house for a costume party, of all things,” Dweezil Zappa says while guesting on the No Cover Charge podcast. “I went there dressed as King Arthur, in real chainmail, so it weighed [a lot]. It was heavy!

“I get to the door, he opens the door, and he’s also like King Arthur, but he has a sword, and he knights me at the door!”

They say that great minds think alike, so perhaps Beck respected the fact that they went to the same place when deciding on their costumes. Either way, the Blow by Blow riffsmith proved an accommodating host.

“Later in the party, he’s like, ‘Oh, let me show you this guitar,’” Zappa goes on. “And he had this Stratocaster. He’s like, ‘It’s a really early Stratocaster. I don’t remember exactly what number.’

“As he picks it up, he hits the corner of a stone table and puts a huge ding in it. He looks at it, and then he hands it to me, ‘cause he just didn’t care. And the serial number was #000001. He said, ‘I got this from Steve Marriott.’ And it was a crazy early version. It had some Jeff Beck grease at that point.”

As Guitar World points out, the guitar was unlikely to have had that exact serial number, given that the first serial-numbered Strat bore 0100 on its neckplate. But the point remains; Beck had dinged one of the oldest Stratocasters in the world, and was nonplussed by the incident. Indeed, as his time in the Yardbirds attests, he wasn’t against smashing six-strings to smithereens from time to time, either.

The onetime Yardbirds guitarist had an interesting history with the Fender Stratocaster. Speaking to Guitar Player in 1973, he slammed the guitar for being “cheap in feel” among other complaints.

A year later, he released his breakthrough album, Blow by Blow, which was predominantly tracked using his “cobbled together” Oxblood Les Paul, which sold for a record amount last year. Not long after, he ditched Les Pauls for the Strat. When asked why he loved the model so much during a 2013 interview, his answer hinted at a former naivety about what the instrument could do.

Elsewhere, Beck drummer Narada Michael Walden says the guitarist left behind a treasure trove of tracks they recorded together, and that he hopes to release them.

From ultra-rare 1950s Broadcasters to Vernon Reid’s greatest-ever guitar find, Norman’s Rare Guitars in Tarzana, California has long since been home to some incredible vintage guitars.

And yet, the best-sounding Stratocaster in the store right now isn't a rare vintage model; it’s a midpriced Fender from 2018, one of the less-glamorous electric guitars in stock.

So says the store's Secret Stash Instagram page, where Norm's spotlights its more unusual wares.

“OK, I know what you’re thinking, and I will agree with you 2000%: it’s ugly as shit,” the post states. “But if you want probably the best-sounding Stratocaster in the house, then you might wanna get over the look.”

The model — a Fender Jimi Hendrix Stratocaster — was part of a limited-edition run of guitars in Ultraviolet finish that paid homage to the late guitar great. True to form, it features an alder body, a maple neck and fretboard, and a trio of vintage single-coil Strat pickups. It even has a reverse headstock, alluding to the fact that lefty Hendrix played right-handed guitars.

The guitar sold for the low price $1,080, but it has blown away Norman Harris, his team, and every customer who’s heard it.

“Ask anyone in the store, and they will tell you,” the post continues. “The other day, [L.A.–based guitarist Michael] Lemmo played it and everyone in the shop agreed this guitar holds up to any Strat we have, even the vintage ones.

“It’s just special. It has that thing and sounds ridiculous. I guarantee whoever gets this one will be thanking us.”

Unlike most sought-after Fenders, the Strat wasn’t made in its Corona, California factory but south of the border, in Mexico. Today, the company's Player, Player Plus and the retro-inspired Vintera series all come out of Ensenada.

Fender set up a manufacturing facility in Ensenada in 1987, just five years after it struck a deal to build its first guitars overseas, in Japan. Since then, Mexican Strats have built a reputation for sounds that belie their price tags. And the folks at Norman’s Rare Guitars can see why.

Meanwhile, Norman Harris has revealed he had the chance to buy George Harrison’s famed Gretsch Country Gentlemen, but saw it become the one that got away after he turned down the trade for one specific reason.

Over the years, the store has become an authority on vintage guitars and was responsible for putting a Cherry Red ES-345 in Marty McFly’s hands in the movie Back to the Future. However, the props team didn’t heed Harris’s advice when picking an instrument for the scene, and, as a result, they got some key details wrong.

The guitar hasn’t been seen since filming wrapped 40 years ago, leading Gibson to launch a worldwide search for an electric guitar that has inspired thousands to play.

Fender, meanwhile, has continued to roll out Hendrix-inspired Strats, complete with their Authentic Hendrix neck plates. But that love-it-or-hate-it Ultraviolet finish has been consigned to the history books.

Throughout his time in the Scorpions, Uli Jon Roth was a Stratocaster loyalist. His devotion to the model led to his wildly innovative Sky Guitar, which has come to define every other era of his career since.

But as he reveals, early versions of the guitar proved too hot for many amps to handle.

Over the course of four studio albums with the German rock giants — from 1974's Fly to the Rainbow to 1977's Taken by Force — Roth put his Strat under the scalpel as he looked to get more out of his electric guitar's tone and performance. Early evidence of his tinkering is easily visible on the cover of his second Scorpions album, In Trance, via the extra-long whammy bar protruding from the bridge.

One thing he craved was more neck to aid his lead playing, as he “was always running out of frets at the top end.” Luthier Andy Demetriou added two additional frets to his Strat, which gave Roth what he was looking for. Temporarily, at least.

“That worked beautifully," he tells Guitar World. "I wanted to have the register like a violin, which is completely impossible on a normal guitar. With a Strat, because of the layout of the cutaway, there is a limit to how high you can place frets. You don’t want to jeopardize the position of the first pickup, which is vital.”

It was Demetriou who gave Roth the vision that led to the Sky Guitar.

“He said to me, ‘Look, I can build you any guitar you like.’ It was like a lightbulb moment for me."

Roth imagined the finished piece would have 38 scalloped frets, a teardrop shape that allowed uninhibited access to them all, and an ingenious placement for the bass pickup.

“When I drove home afterward, I kept thinking, Any guitar you like…"

His dream was to build the ultimate active pickup system — "which we called Mega-Wing," he says. "It had four coils, and originally it was able to switch from power humbucking to perfectly clean.”

Not one to turn down a challenge, Demetriou helped Roth turn his mad vision into a decibel-piercing reality. But with such lofty ambitions came teething problems: the longer the neck grew, the more difficult it was to house the Mega-Wing.

“I think it was Andy’s idea to put the pickups under the fretboard,” Roth explains. “I said, ‘How is that possible?’ He said, ‘It’ll be possible because it’s just wood, and it won’t take away from the sound.’

"Sure enough, he built the first one in the spring of 1983. It looked exactly as the Sky guitars do now, but the paint job was different.”

His prayers were answered. This guitar was a different beast.

“With the Sky Guitar, I can drive the amp. If it’s set to three to five, not 10, I can make the amp sing like there’s no tomorrow, straight from the guitar,” he says. “The guitar is like a Formula 1 car.

The original, he said, “had a gain stage of 80dB. You could blow up any amp with that.

"And I did!”

Some amps would put up a fight; others were doomed as soon as he flicked the switch. Each time, he learned the hard way.

“I blew up Vox AC30s, which lasted about half an hour, and Fender Twins lasted an hour,” Roth dictates, like he’s reeling off test results. “I jammed with Steve Morse once, and liked his 5150 amp, so they sent me two. They sounded great for about 10 seconds, then they were fried!”

Still, it was a learning curve for him, albeit a pretty costly one. Once the smell of cremated tube amps dissipated, he was able to reconsider the guitar’s firepower and how much was really necessary.

“I thought, ‘Maybe it’s not a good idea to use that gain stage to the maximum!’” he laughs. “I learned which amps were indestructible – old Marshalls Super Leads and the Blackstar Artist. When I play AC30s I don’t turn the gain up, and I make sure there’s enough headroom.”

“To produce a great guitar tone you need a lot of imagination,” he concludes. “You need to hear it inside yourself and want it. The process takes effort: it’s not easy – you need the right guitar and the right amp.”

As long as it can take the heat.

In related news, Roth's fellow Scorpions alumni, Michael Schenker, has told the story behind "Rock You Like a Hurricane" and the unusual role a gear-chasing Eric Clapton plays in it.

More than 60 years after Rory Gallagher bought his infamous 1961 Fender Stratocaster from Crowley’s Music Store in Cork, Ireland, Joe Bonamassa has followed in his footsteps.

On the eve of three Rory Gallagher tribute shows in the city, he’s retraced his hero’s vital early steps and walked out of the store with a sunburst Strat of his own.

Gallagher's guitar was the first of its kind to arrive on Irish shores when he bought it. The instrument had been destined for another owner, but it was sold to Crowley’s after it came with a sunburst finish, rather than red finish the customer preferred. Gallagher bought the guitar on a finance deal in 1963 for £100.

The Strat quickly proved to be a workhorse electric guitar and bore the brunt of its toils. Its finish wore away through constant playing and Rory’s acidic sweat. Over the years he owned it, the guitar rarely left his side and has become an enigmatic symbol of his legacy.

Bonamassa paid a visit to Crowley’s in order to repeat Gallagher’s feat. Casual observers may question the purchase: Bonamassa said the Dumble amp he recently bought — his ninth since 2020 — would be his last big purchase as he looks to nip his GAS in the bud.

But this is a very different scenario.

Speaking about Gallagher's impact on his life with Guitarist ahead of the auction of his gear last year, Bonamassa said his world changed when his father presented him with the Rory's 1972 solo album, Live in Europe.

“Here's this guy,” he said, “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 will play his three shows in honor of Gallagher at the Marquee in Cork, on July 1, 2, and 3. He’s called it “the biggest challenge of my musical life.” Consequently, he’s been getting a taste of the lands Gallagher called home in preparation.

Posting a photo of him standing alongside Crowley’s staff, Bonamassa says, “I've always wanted to buy a sunburst Fender Stratocaster from Crowley's Music Centre in Cork. Today I did.”

Included in the photo is Sheena Crowley, the daughter of the man who sold Rory Gallagher his legendary Strat all those years ago. Sheena had launched a GoFundMe campaign to keep the guitar in the city upon learning it was to be sold at auction.

Bonamassa opened his wallet to support the campaign, and although the guitar sold for $1.16 million and was consequently donated to the National Museum of Ireland, the €75,000 (approx $86,400) raised wasn’t wasted.

As confirmed in her recent interview with the Cork Independent, the funds were spent on acquiring other pieces of Gallagher’s musical history. They are now being displayed at a new permanent exhibition in Collins Barracks in Cork.

The tribute shows were the idea of Dónal, Rory’s younger brother and manager, but he says there will be caveats.

“When they reached out, I said, ‘You had me at hello,’” he tells Classic Rock. “Then I thought about it and went, Shit, what did I just sign up for?”

“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],” he adds.

“Before starting rehearsal, I told Dónal: ‘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.”

Only two shows were originally slated, but a third date has been added due to overwhelming demand. As the above video shows, Bonamassa has given fans a glimpse into the Strats being used for the shows, and there are some heavy relics among the bunch.

Meanwhile, Bonamassa has offered his best amp-buying advice, believing “you don’t have to spend a lot of money to get a great sound.” Buying the right guitar, however, is a personal matter.

Eric Clapton earned the moniker "God" with a Gibson Les Paul Standard in his hands. It was his guitar of choice during his mid-1960s stint with John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, and the Gibson brand remained close to his heart as he transitioned into Cream and began playing a Gibson SG alongside a Cherry Red ES-335 and a Firebird.

But glance through Slowhand's early solo catalog and you'll find him make a decisive shift to the Fender Stratocaster in 1970. There's one right there — his "Brownie" Strat — between his legs on the cover of his self-titled solo debut from that year, and it's there again on the back cover of Derek and the Dominos' Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs.

You might think Jimi Hendrix was responsible for that shift. After all, Clapton was, like many of his peers, enamored of Hendrix and his flamboyant style.

But in fact it was Steve Winwood — Clapton's Blind Faith bandmate — who led him from Gibson to Fender, simply by showing up onstage with a Strat hanging from his shoulders.

Without a doubt, Clapton's affinity with the Les Paul ran deep. His Les Paul Standard had a starring role on the back cover of the Blues Breakers With Eric Clapton album, helping to secure that model's place as a desirable and highly collectible vintage guitar. (His triple-humbucker 1958 Gibson Les Paul Custom meanwhile, which is now in the possession of Albert Lee, has a smorgasbord of its own stories to tell.)

Yet is was Winwood's influence that led him to the more workmanlike Strat.

But why Winwood? In the late 1960s, he had established himself as a talented singer, keyboard player and guitarist before he was out of his teens. His work with a pair of influential bands — the Spencer Davis Group and Traffic — had made him a star and brought him to the attention of notables like Hendrix, who recruited the then 19-year-old multi-instrumentalist to play organ on "Voodoo Chile," on Electric Ladyland.

He was on Clapton's radar as well, and he took note of Winwood's guitar of choice: the Fender Stratocaster.

“I saw Steve Winwood playing one, and something about that really did it for me," Clapton told Guitar World in 1994. "I’d always worshipped Steve, and whenever he made a move, I would be right on it. I gave great weight to his decisions because to me he was one of the few people in England who had his finger on some kind of universal musical pulse.

“I went to see him at the Marquee in London, and he was playing a white-necked Strat, and there was something about it.”

Traffic played the Marquee a few times in 1968, and it's likely that this is when Clapton saw the now 20-year-old performer using a Strat.

Clapton and Winwood connected to form Blind Faith in 1969, but the guitarist hadn't yet moved fully away from his Gibsons. Although he played a Fender Telecaster — the model he mostly played during his tenure with the Yardbirds — at Blind Faith's concert in London's Hyde Park on June 7, 1969, he didn't make the switch to his "Brownie" Strat until early 1970, when he began performing with Delaney & Bonnie and Friends, who in turn supported him on Eric Clapton.

But while Brownie figured in the Derek and the Dominos sessions, Clapton wouldn't become a committed Strat player until after the death of Jimi Hendrix in September 1970. Hendrix's impact on the British blues scene was monumental and deeply affected the careers of Clapton, it Jeff Beck and Pete Townshend.

As Clapton detailed in a 1994 interview with Guitar World, the virtuoso’s passing made him consider the Stratocaster in a deeper way.

"Once he wasn’t there any more, I felt like there was room to pick it up," he said.

It was shortly after Hendrix's death, while the Dominos were touring, that Clapton went all in.

“I was in Nashville and I went into this shop called Sho-Bud where they had stacks of Fender Strats going for virtually nothing because they were so unfashionable and unwanted,” he told MusicRadar in 1994.

“I bought a big pile of them all for a song — they were really cheap, like $300 or $400 each — and I took them home and gave them out. I gave Steve [Winwood] one, I gave Pete Townshend one, I gave George Harrison one and I kept a few, and I made Blackie out of a group of them.

“I took the pickups out of one, the scratchplate off another, the neck off another and I made my own guitar, like a hybrid guitar that had all the best bits from all these Strats.”

Clapton would go on to wield Blackie for much of his solo career, including at his iconic Live-Aid performance, until it was time to retire it. “Yeah, I wore it out," he told Music Radar. "It’s pretty well inaccessible now.”

In related news, Martin Guitars, meanwhile, has reissued the acoustic he used for his MTV Unplugged performance which helped change the luthier’s fortunes. There's also a cheaper version for those who can't afford the $10,000 asking price.

Alex Lifeson has explained what he feels are the “limitations” of the Fender Stratocaster while detailing the crucial mods he made to get his models firing for Rush.

Typically, Lifeson is known as a Les Paul guy, but he’s from one a one-model-player. Throughout his career, he has reached for a variety of six-strings to ensure that Rush’s discography was as colorful as possible, and the Strat has played a role in one of his most famed electric guitars.

The Canadian accepts that single-coil Strats will always be a “useful” tool in any guitarist’s arsenal, but he was left looking for more from his in the late ‘70s. That led to some crucial changes that saw its tailor-made successor dominate the band’s ‘80s output.

His Strat started life as a backup for the Gibson 335 that was primarily used for tracks like “Anthem”’s 7/8 fury and “La Villa Strangiato”’s twisting adventurism.

“The story begins in 1978 when I modified a Fender Stratocaster that I purchased new,” he explains to Guitar World. “I replaced the bridge single-coil with a Gibson humbucker, reversed the input jack for easier access, and added a Floyd Rose tremolo to replace the Fender tremolo. I used this guitar as a spare primarily and started using it increasingly for the Floyd Rose.”

Fleshing out the context of the Strat’s bastardization, he told Ultimate Guitar: “You know, I'm more of a humbucker guy, I always have been. Fenders are very, very useful, single-coils are very, very useful, and I've always had them. But I needed a backup for my 335 at the time.

“I owned a 1956 Strat in 1973 as a backup to the ES-335,” he adds. “It made me think and play differently... and it sounded great.”

But this newly purchased Strat left him wanting more.

“There were limitations to the Fender,” Lifeson explains. “The vibrato arm's range wasn't that great. It was a character that I didn't want. I wanted something that moved more.

“So I remember routing it and installing that thing when we were on tour in England. I think there are photos floating around with me actually working in the dressing room, putting that guitar together.

That led to the birth of the Hentor Sportscaster, which itself wasn’t a Strat-proper, but echoed the good parts of his modded Strat, and eliminated the bad.

“I commissioned Veneman Music to build a replica incorporating a shark neck, Floyd Rose, and Bill Lawrence L500 pickup,” he continues. “This was the Hentor Sportscaster. This became the model for the Lerxst Limelight." Lifeson’s new signature guitar with Godin.

“I used the Hentor on a lot of recordings and particularly liked it for soloing,” he says of the guitar’s legacy. “One standout recording is the solo from ‘Limelight’ – [hence the Lerxst’s name]. It was the perfect selection to create the soulful, elastic and unstable character for the solo of that song.”

Meanwhile, Lifeson has revealed he and Geddy Lee are “bombarded” with offers from drummers desperate to fill Neil Peart's vacant drum stool, but he's in no mood to entertain them,.

Peart, a vital songwriting force in the band, died in 2020. Though the band had already retired, it looked to be the definitive end for the prog legends. But that didn’t stop an army of drummers chancing their arm.

“After Neil passed, it didn't take more than a few minutes before we started getting emails from all kinds of drummers who wanted to audition for the band,” he says. “[They were] thinking that we were just gonna replace somebody that we played with for 40 years who wrote all the lyrics for our music.

“We're bombarded by it all the time. I don't know what some of these people were thinking.”

His comments come after revealing how he and Geddy, who still live minutes away from one another, regularly jam and have been recording their sessions. However, he believes they sound like “a really bad tribute band” and simply sees their time together as a way to keep sharp.

Lifeson's priorities seem to lie with Lerxst and his new band, Envy of None.

Over the years, John Mayer has proven his credentials when it comes to gear, with his best-selling PRS Silver Sky signature guitar arguably the most impressive feather in his cap. But long before he signed to Paul Reed Smith’s brand, Mayer was a Fender Stratocaster advocate. His Fender Custom Shop Black1 model was designed to meet his performance needs as his main guitar.

Crafted by Fender Masterbuilder John Cruz in 2004, the Black1 features a highly worn finish. Tonally, it drew inspiration from Mayer's Stevie Ray Vaughan Tribute Strat.

But when the guitar arrived, it wasn't exactly music to his ears.

“I started playing it and it wasn't there. I was heartbroken,” Mayer recalls in a documentary video centered on the guitar. “I started thinking to myself, This guitar, I know it can be something."

His desperation led him try something completely novel.

“I remember I put it in the freezer overnight because I was so desperate to have something molecular happen to this guitar,” he explains. “I said, ‘Something has to molecularly change with this instrument. I will not accept that this is the way this instrument has come out.’

“I had one of those freezers where it’s the whole length of the left third of the appliance. I took everything out of the freezer and sat the guitar in overnight. I was like, ‘You just sit in there and change.’”

Putting the pricey instrument on ice for the night didn’t have the desired effect.

“The next day, I took it out and started playing it… and it still wasn’t there. It was just cold,” he sighs.

It did, however, set Mayer down the correct path to rectify the problem. It turns out the fix was far simpler than he had anticipated.

“I opened it up and the ground wasn’t hooked up,” he reveals. “Something wasn't hooked up. As soon as it was hooked up, it started playing right.”

Mayer joined PRS’ ranks in 2015, consequently forcing his Strats to an early retirement, but there have been rare occasions that he’s flew from the PRS nest.

In late 2023, the Black1 returned from exile for a show at Madison Square Garden, as did his Jimi Hendrix Monterrey Strat several months earlier.

Last year, during his Las Vegas Sphere residency with Dead & Co., Mayer — with a little help from Joe Bonamassa — took Jeff Beck’s all-white Custom Shop Strat for a spin.

Those Las Vegas shows also saw Mayer having to get creative about his amp placement in order to play to the venue's strict rulebook.

One day in 2007, Ana Popovic walked into Gruhn Guitars in Nashville with a shoe box full of $20 bills from merchandise sales at her shows.

She walked out, $20,000 later, with a 1964 Fender Stratocaster, which has been her constant musical companion — and favorite guitar — ever since.

"It is a fantastic and a fabulous guitar," Popovic tells Guitar Player. "I was living in Amsterdam at that time but was playing American. I'd found out I was pregnant with my son and was like, 'Oh my goodness, my life is gonna change so much. I don't know how much diapers cost. If I don't buy this guitar now, I'll never buy it.' "

The Strat wasn't the only electric guitar the Serbian-born Popovic put her hands on in Gruhn. But, she says, it was love at first pluck.

"I spent about four, five hours trying guitars," she remembers. "There were a lot of incredible guitars in that store, but somehow this one really stole my heart. It just had something about it, and the sound that I really wanted. It would react to anything I would do, every hit or every note, if I played with a pick, if I played with fingers...It was like it was alive.

"And it still is. It's a constant inspiration to me, especially live. It just reacts to every strum differently. I'm really fortunate to have it."

Popovic does acknowledge that the Strat "wasn't in mint condition by any means," as evidenced by the still scuffed-up finish. But she's never had any work done on it during the past 18 years. "It's all original '64, and that's it," she says.

Popovic adds that her relationship with the Strat intensified during the past few years, after she was diagnosed with breast cancer during late 2020 before making her latest album, 2023's Power. "You have a really, really bad day when you get that horrible news and when the future is so unclear," Popovic recalls.

"And then what do you do? You're in panic, right? At that moment I actually look at my guitar, I actually think about my guitar or take my guitar in hand. It's been a lifesaver, really. I've had that in the past; when I have a difficult time I always turn to my music. My music has always been there for me...ever since I was a teenager. It's the one job I've ever had...and the guitar is so important to my music, right?"

Popovic, who also directs her own music videos, is continuing to tour in support of Power, with North American and European dates booked into the summer and the Rhythm & Blues Cruise during October. She's also in the "final stages" of her next album. "We're mixing already," says Popovic, who now lives in Los Angeles and recently purchased a villa in Detroit that she's refurbishing.

"It's really fun, so different from anything else I've done" and, she adds, further exploring the brassy, big-band approach of some of Power's songs. "I think it’s a musical style that's somehow different. I let a few of my close people hear it, and they say, 'It's so strange how different it is, but it's still you.' But I don't think anyone should be scared of that. It's still me. It's just a fresh approach to the sound and the music."

Some guitar players rely solely on their talents. Others take their love for the instruments to extremes by modifying them.

Eddie Van Halen was always tinkering with guitars on his workbench, bringing his Bumblebee, Shark and Frankenstein creations, as well as his clever D-Tuna system for Floyd Rose tremolos, to the fore.

Eric Johnson was cut from that same cloth. Without the mods he made to his 1954 Fender Stratocaster, it’s quite possible his biggest hit, "Cliffs of Dover," wouldn’t have been as successful as it is.

Johnson had traded a Gibson for a 1954 Strat early in his career. He named the guitar Virginia after finding a piece of masking tape with that name on it in a pickup cavity. It was common for Fender's factory workers to sign their work in the '50s, and Virginia was one of the first Leo Fender hired for factory work.

The guitar had a two-piece, offset-seam body made of sassafras, a tonewood Fender used in his early Strat builds, and it sported a classic two-tone sunburst finish and a one-piece maple neck.

Johnson replaced the pickups with late-1950s single-coils that packed a little more heat — particularly in the bridge position — along with a 500k volume pot, which is twice the output as the factory-standard pots.

Next, he planed down the neck and fit it with larger frets, a trend typical of the ‘70s and ‘80s, while a custom wiring job allowed him to adjust the tone of the bridge pickup, the hottest of the three.

But it was the modification to the bridge, a hardtail tremolo typical of the era, that made the biggest difference.

Johnson had been unhappy with the sustain and volume of his high E string, particularly when playing chords. Its string saddle was replaced with a 1970s-style block saddle. To reduce its bright response, he removed metal from its midsection and replaced it with hard plastic.

Johnson has since jumped ship to Graphtec saddles that have graphite in their cores, an invention that came later. It shows how forward-thinking the guitarist was when addressing his issues with Virginia.

The guitarist also raised the pickup's height on the treble side. This helped even out the attack response from each string and improve sustain from the high strings.

Johnson’s first two solo records, Tones (1986), and Ah Via Musicom (1990), from which "Cliffs of Dover" soared, quickly defined him as a smooth guitar player, which emphasizes the importance of remedying Virginia's high-E troubles and elevating the instrument’s performance.

The song was ranked 16th in Guitar Player’s Greatest ‘Guitar Solos of All Time’ list, sitting between Eric Clatpon's "Crossroads" and Prince's "Purple Rain."

"I don't even know if I can take credit for writing 'Cliffs of Dover,'" Johnson told Guitar World. "It was just there for me one day." He said he "literally wrote in five minutes" and called the song "kind of a gift from a higher place that all of us are eligible for. We just have to listen for it and be available to receive it."

The solo has been championed for its “exquisitely tasteful guitar playing and jaw-dropping tones.” A 100-watt Marshall Super Lead, an Echoplex delay pedal and BK Butler Tube Driver were also used to help him create his signature smooth, violin-like tones and warm sustain.

Speaking of Virginia during the unveiling of Fender's 2020 replica model, Johnson said, it “was one of my favorite guitars I've ever owned. It was a real career guitar for me. I recorded with it and toured it forever.”

Though Virginia has now been retired after many years of service, the replica, which captures the “magic and soul” of the six-string has proved a worthy stand-in since.

A statue honoring the late Irish blues guitarist Rory Gallagher has been unveiled in Belfast, Northern Ireland, outside Ulster Hall, a music venue where he regularly played.

Unfortunately, they got a key detail wrong.

Which seems a little odd when you consider how much Gallagher has been in the press over the past six months. Last July brought news that his family planned to auction off his iconic well-worn Fender Stratocaster. This led to a drive to keep the guitar in Ireland, which gained support from Irish politicians.

Concerned parties sighed a breath of relief after the buyer, who paid $1.16 million for the instrument, donated it to the National Museum of Ireland.

So it seems more than a little odd that Gallagher's statue shows him with a Fender Telecaster — rather than his unmistakably battered Stratocaster — draped over his shoulders.

Gallagher didn’t play his Strat exclusively, of course. In addition to a 1959 Fender Esquire that Joe Bonamassa took for a test drive prior to the auction, the Irish rocker has graced stages with acoustic guitars, several Les Paul Juniors and even a Gretsch Corvette. But it’s a bit like creating a statue of Slash playing a B.C. Rich Mockingbird: It may be historically accurate, but it doesn’t sit right.

As it turns out, the artists behind its creation — Anto Brennan, Jessica Checkley, and David O’Brien of Bronze Art Ireland — based the sculpture on a classic endearing photo of Gallagher, which had graced the front cover of music magazine Melody Maker in 1972. That image show the guitarist with his arms aloft and a Telecaster dangling at waist level.

Regardless, fans have taken to social media to voice their disappointment.

“Rory owned a Tele. But his… STRAT was his iconic trademark,” one user said, with another adding “No Strat? Not too clever.”

In addition, some have questioned the statue's likeness to the man it honors. However, Donal Gallagher, Rory's brother and former manager, has no such concerns.

He was present at its unveiling, and has called it “fitting that the city he loved so much is where his memory will be celebrated for generations to come”.

Gallagher was born in Ballyshannon, County Donegal, before his family relocated to Londonderry. He spent his formative years in Cork, where he would later buy his Strat, in 1956.

However, he found his musical freedom in the capital city.

“Growing up, I heard from my dad and Rory how important Belfast was to Rory's musical genesis," said his nephew Daniel. "They'd talk about how he played with wonderful Belfast musicians and how they shaped him – and how the city shaped him. It was kind of the first place in Ireland he could really go and play the blues.”

Gallagher already has a statue in Ballyshannon, complete with a Strat, and a replica of his Strat hangs below a street sign in Dublin.

In related news, Joe Bonamassa announced he'll perform three special Rory Gallagher tribute shows in Cork, Ireland, this July. Bonamassa was the last person to play two of Gallagher's other six-strings before they to went off to auction.

From his time with Frank Zappa through his work with David Bowie, Talking Heads and King Crimson, Adrian Belew could be spotted onstage with a battle-scarred sunburst-finish Fender Stratocaster. Given its history, that electric guitar may be one of the most storied Strats in the history of avant-garde rock. How it came to play such a vital role in Belew’s career is a tale in itself, one that began in the 1970s, when the guitarist was still a young unknown from Covington, Kentucky, who was suddenly dropped alongside Frank Zappa, an unflinching perfectionist guitar virtuoso.

As Belew reveals to Guitar Player, his Stratocaster was certainly not the prettiest or most expensive example — just one that he could afford. And he rode it all the way to his breakout success as one of the premier Strat-slingers in history. Here, the guitarist talks us through his history with the Strat.

How did you come to own your first Strat?

I was in a band and had been playing drums, but I was starting to play guitar again. I’d always wanted a Strat, so I bought one with a natural wood finish at [Chuck Levin’s] Washington Music Center [in Maryland]. I drove up from Nashville and bought it off the rack — the plainest, simplest, cheapest Stratocaster that I could buy.

This was the same Strat you went to California with when you auditioned for Frank Zappa?

It was. I took it to California and auditioned with Frank. After I got the job, I used it during our three-month rehearsal and then on a two-month tour of the United States. But that Strat never returned to my house; it was lost in the shuffle. It’s out there somewhere.

How did you go about replacing it?

At the time, I was living here in Nashville. I went down to a little music store, and in the back they had a kind of really ugly Strat hanging on the wall. It was a brown sunburst, and it didn’t have a case. But that was okay, because with all the travel we were doing, I knew I would get a serious road case for it. I paid $285 for the Strat.

And that’s the guitar you ended up recording with while with Frank and beyond?

Yes. That’s the Stratocaster that I played on Frank’s records. And then I played it on David Bowie’s Lodger and toured the world with David with it. Then I played it with the Talking Heads, did the Remain in Light album with them, the Tom Tom Club album [with Talking Heads drummer and bassist Chris Frant\z and Tina Weymouth], Jerry Harrison’s solo debut, and so many other things.

Was that the same Strat you used in the 1980s with King Crimson?

It was. I played it with King Crimson on Discipline, and on my first solo record [Lone Rhino]. And then I finally switched to a guitar synthesizer. So that Strat has an amazing amount of history. It’s on a lot of records, and it only cost me 285 bucks!

What were some of the mods you performed on it?

When I first had one in the late ’70s, I put a [Alembic] Strat-o-blaster [preamp] in it. That really helped, but before that I just plugged the guitar straight into the amp. That’s the Stratocaster sound. It doesn’t have everything in terms of richness, overtones and sparkle... Well, maybe it does. It would depend heavily on the amp. But I’ve always gone into a compressor first, and that helped bring those sparkly notes and added sustain.

You found two winning Strats in succession in the 1970s. Is that indicative of the quality of older Stratocasters?

If you want to go right into the piece of wood called a Stratocaster, they’re different. You might pick one up and it seems flat sounding, but then you might try the one next to it and decide that it’s the one you should buy. I don’t know why that is. They’re made to the exact same tolerances, but they’re not the same.

What’s the key to finding the right one?

I think this is true for any guitar: It’s not about the sound coming off the guitar alone; it’s about how it feels under your fingers. Sometimes you pick up a guitar and it just feels right. I think that’s the Stratocaster you should have. For me, a Stratocaster is a fabulous tool. I think Leo Fender got it absolutely right, but there are other ways to go about it now and other improvements that have been made.

Do you prefer the depth of rosewood necks or the spank of maple?

I always loved rosewood necks. Recently I had some guitars made for the Talking Heads shows that I’ve been doing [Remain in Light] and I wanted to go back to Strats and get whatever was the best now. For example, I found a wonderful new tremolo to put on, and I went with a maple neck, thinking it was brighter for me. But I made a mistake; I think I’m a rosewood guy. I love the guitars, but if I had the chance to do it over again, I would have stuck with the rosewood.

You mentioned amps a moment ago. You’ve long championed the Roland Jazz Chorus. Is that what you’d choose to pair with a Strat, especially since it’s a great pedal platform?

Oh, gee. A Strat sounds great through a Fender amp. Now, with pedals… I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t play guitar — except acoustic guitar — without first putting it through a compressor. But that’s just me. Some people don’t like that sound. It seems to make the guitar hum a little better, and the notes have more sustain. I’ve always liked that.

But in general, Strats are really something. Once you have a good one and a good amp, you have 90 percent of the battle won. From there, it’s down to personal taste.

Thirteen years since her death, Amy Winehouse continues to be a cultural force. Last month saw her single “Back to Black” come storming back on several U.K. charts — including Official Hip-Hop, R&B Singles and Vinyl Singles — some 17 years after its initial release. Her legend only continues to grow through tribute events that take place regularly in the U.K. and U.S.

But while the world knows Winehouse for her songwriting and singular voice, what few seem to appreciate is that she wrote many of her songs on guitar, an instrument at which she was quite adept.

Take it from Pete Doherty, singer and guitarist for the Libertines, who was romantically involved with Winehouse. As Doherty told MusicRadar last April, Winehouse had a flair for harmonic invention.

“Listen, I’ve actually sat in a room with her and a guitar,” he said, “watching those tiny hands finding all these weird jazz chords. And her strumming patterns… crazy, off-kilter timings. She made it look so effortless.”

From an early age, Winehouse made electric guitar integral to her songwriting and performing, a musical tool that helped her pen her songs as well as perform them with a unique personal touch. Known to favor the Stratocaster, Winehouse first discovered this timeless Fender model in her pre-teenage years when her older brother bought a used instrument.

“It was the most beautiful thing in the world,” recalled Winehouse during an interview in 2004. “It’s such a beautiful guitar. I mean it’s got to be probably the most attractive guitar there is.”

Though Winehouse was forbidden to touch her brother’s Stratocaster she would carefully sneak into his room and play it whenever she had the chance. With strategic access to the instrument, Winehouse slowly began to get her chops together. And when she finally acquired her own guitar — an acoustic model — the siblings amicably swapped instruments back and forth.

“I just played every day. No one said to me, ‘You’ve got to play for at least this amount of time,’ " Winehouse recalled. “It was all I wanted to do.

"It’s so easy to teach yourself if you have love for guitar. People say to me all the time, ‘How come you taught yourself?’ And there’s things people can show you, but the truth is, if you learn how to play guitar off someone, you just kind of learn to play it like them, you know what I mean? And that’s why I can say that while I’m not even an adequate guitarist, I’m still a distinctive guitarist. I sound different.”

She would eventually use a Stratocaster to perform some of her best-known songs. Inspired by the likes of Carole King, PJ Harvey, and Shuggie Otis, Winehouse’s self-tuition coupled with a remarkable gift for songwriting resulted in a unique playing style that was her perfect musical accompaniment.

In this 2003 performance of “Stronger Than Me” (from her debut album Frank, released earlier that year) Winehouse wows the studio audience assembled at the BBC’s live music show Later… with Jools Holland, her inimitable rhythm guitar style proving to be the perfect accompaniment.

Below, we get to see a 20-year-old Winehouse up close as she stuns the crowd at London’s Wembley Arena with nothing more than her voice and a Stratocaster. In this 2004 all-star event marking the 50th anniversary of Fender’s iconic Stratocaster she goes it alone against a backdrop of guitar legends, including David Gilmour , Ronnie Wood, and Hank Marvin.

Finally, here’s Amy discuss her love of guitar and the Stratocaster in particular in a video celebrating that model’s 50th anniversary.

For more than 50 years, Jimmie Vaughan has been a force onstage and on records. He came to prominence in the late 1970s when the Fabulous Thunderbirds brought their Texas roadhouse blues to a national, and later international, audience. The T-Birds broke into the U.S. singles charts in 1986 with “Tuff Enuff” and enjoyed high-profile success at home and around the world.

Vaughan left the T-Birds in 1990 to record Family Style with his younger brother, Stevie Ray. Plans to build upon that platform, touring as the Vaughan Brothers, came to a grinding halt when Stevie was tragically killed in a helicopter crash that same year. Jimmie found the loss impossible to deal with, and refrained from recording until the release of his debut solo album, Strange Pleasure, four years later.

Since the release of that first solo record, Vaughan has continued to record a series of critically acclaimed albums and to tour extensively. The 2023 documentary Brothers in Blues was the first official telling of Jimmie and Stevie Ray’s story. It features not only extensive interviews with Jimmie but also appearances from Billy Gibbons and many associates of Stevie and Jimmie from their earliest days.

Jimmie is pleased with how it turned out, but still finds it hard to talk about Stevie. “I still can’t believe that it’s true that Stevie got killed,” he says. “I’m still in denial about it. It was terrible. I had to deal with losing my little brother.

"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,” he continues. “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. There’s an expectation as well, when people speak to you about it, that you’ll have something profound to say. I sometimes think that maybe God picked that day so that we knew they’d be together. What else can you think?”

Once again this year, Jimmie will join up with Billy Gibbons for shows at Antone’s, the Austin, Texas blues club where the Vaughan brothers (and many other electric guitar players) got their start. Jimmie and Billy have intermittently teamed up for their Jungle Show performances at the venue, joined by Sue Foley, Mike “The Drifter” Flanigin and Chris “Whipper” Layton. This year, Vaughan will be the special guest on December 27 and 28 when Billy F. Gibbons and the BFGs, featuring Flanigin and Layton, take the stage.

“We’ve talk about doing more things,” Vaughan says, “but Billy is very busy, and I’ve been real busy, but we always come home around Christmas time, which is when we often do shows together. We have been thinking about maybe doing something in Vegas. I think we’d have to make a record first though, but that’s currently on the back burner.”

Vaughan’s primary focus at the moment is to continue to tour across the States. He has dates scheduled through January, and there will undoubtedly be more to come. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a big deal or a small deal, it’s always exciting to play guitar and to get together with your friends to play,” he says. “There’s something magical about playing the guitar. I still can’t believe that I get to be a guitar player.”

We asked Vaughan to share the stories behind some of that magic as he’s applied it to key songs from his career. Here’s what he told us.

“WAIT ON TIME” (1979)

“I picked this one because it’s from the beginning of my recording career with the T-Birds, and it’s also one of the very first original songs that we worked up. The whole album was pretty representative of what we were like as a band. This was a song that we’d been playing at Antone’s for years. [Vocalist] Kim Wilson came up with the lyrics, and I think it’s a song that sounds like it could have been written at any time. If you didn’t know that it was an original, you could easily be forgiven for thinking it was some old, obscure blues cover version.

“That was what we did, you know? We’d be playing across the states at blues festivals and clubs, and we’d have that mix of original and cover songs, but I doubt the average listener would know which was which. Playing as the back-up band at Antone’s, with whatever blues great was playing there, was a tremendous apprenticeship as a band.

“I think I used a ’58 Strat that I’ve still got, and I think maybe a Bassman amp. We were really pleased with the album when it came out. It was real exciting. Denny Bruce owned the label [Takoma Records], and Ray Benson from Asleep at the Wheel recommended us to him. We recorded the album in Dallas in a couple of days, since we’d been playing those songs for so long.”

“TUFF ENUFF” (1986)

“Dave Edmunds produced this album, and it was the first time that we allowed somebody to produce us, as opposed to record us. It was the first time that we asked for help and got it. Dave wanted us to overdub, and put a lot of guitar layers on the tracks. We spent a lot more time on the vocal tracks as well. He was a great producer, and we were confident that he could bring something extra to the table for us.

“We were fans of his records of course, and I think the album turned out pretty good. We thought, and Dave agreed, that 'Tuff Enuff' could be a radio hit. We did everything that we thought we needed to do in the recording of it to achieve that, which it did of course, giving us our first hit single. We still stuck to our guns though — it still sounds like the T-Birds. Most of the album was a little more like our regular approach, but ‘Tuff Enuff' is still an authentic-sounding T-Birds song.

“For this song I think I used my white Strat, which was a ’62 body with a neck that René Martinez built for me, and he put a Fender decal on it. This was before I had a deal with Fender. I think this was either two Super Reverbs or Bassman combos together with a ‘Y’ cord. I turned the amps to 10, then turned it down on the guitar. If I needed something extra, I always had something in reserve.”

“POWERFUL STUFF” (1989)

“This was the last T-Birds album that I played on. This was the follow-up hit to ‘Tuff Enuff,’ and I thought it was a real good record. We got a lot of airplay on this one. This is another example of where we updated the sound of the band a little while still remaining true to who we were as a band.

“There’s actually a live version of this on YouTube for some TV special and I think it actually came out a lot better than the record. I had a Stratocaster tuned down a tone, with real heavy strings that I used for those parts that sound like a baritone guitar — even though I did have a Danelectro Longhorn baritone that I used on a lot of the T-Birds records. There was a song when I was a kid that I heard it on, by Grady Martin, whose playing I really loved. Man, he played with everybody in Nashville. He had that great double-necked guitar with the little, short neck [a 1952 Bigsby double-neck]. Great guitarist.”

“TICK TOCK” (1990)

“Recording the Vaughan Brothers’ Family Style with Stevie was one of the highlights for me. I wrote the music and the chorus, with the words ‘Tick Tock.’ Nile Rogers, who was producing, wrote the lyrics. When I turned up, I had a recording of what I had, played it to Nile and he took about 10 minutes to write the words. [laughs]

"I couldn’t pick a particular favorite from this album — it was all real serious and heavy to me as we were working on it. And then Stevie got killed. We were together for three months making that record and had a real great time doing it. Tony Martell at Epic came up with the idea of us making an album. Ever since we were little kids our dad would say, ‘Okay, boys, go get your guitars and play something in the living room for our guests,’ and someone would always say, ‘That’s really great boys, maybe someday you can make a record together.’ It was a long time coming.”

“BOOM BAPA BOOM” (1994)

“This cut from Strange Pleasure was the kickstarter to my solo career. After several years of not knowing what to do after Stevie’s death, this was my return. I asked Nile Rogers to produce this because I’d enjoyed working with him on Family Style. He’s the greatest producer I’ve ever worked with. He’s such an inspirational guy, that it’s almost like magic.

“Stevie had enjoyed working with him on Bowie’s Let’s Dance, which was why we asked him to produce our album. I felt a certain amount of pressure and scrutiny in the making of this record, because it was the start of a whole new thing for me, particularly as I was also doing all the vocals. The thing is though, as you get older, and you’ve had a good career, I think you always feel a certain amount of pressure to come up with something that will stand alongside your best work.

“I’d decided to change one of the fundamental approaches to my music by having the organ cover the bass parts instead of using a bass player. I’d been a huge fan of people like Jack McDuff and Jimmy McGriff, and those kinds of guys, since I was a teenager. I ran into Bill Willis, and thought that was my chance to do something in that vein. If you call up your favorite guy to make a record and he says yes, that’s a pretty special thing.”

Rory Gallagher was at a crossroads in his career when Guitar Player had the great fortune to speak with him for a cover story in the March 1978 issue. Shortly before it, he’d cut tracks for his followup to 1976’s Calling Card in San Francisco, but was unhappy with the slick sound producer Elliot Mazer gave him.

After catching the Sex Pistols performance in San Francisco on January 14, 1978, Gallagher decided to scrap everything he’d recorded and start over again, producing it himself to have a tougher and more aggressive sound. Unfortunately, soon afterward, he broke his thumb when he caught it in a taxi door, an injury that required months of recovery.

In the meantime, Gallagher began revising his lineup with a goal of returning to the power-trio format of his 1960s group Taste. He fired his keyboardist and replaced his drummer with Ted McKenna. In July 1978, a good four months after this interview hit newsstands, Gallagher, bassist Gerry McAvoy and McKenna went to Dierks Studios, in Cologne, Germany to re-cut the scrapped tracks. The album was released the following October as Photo-Finish, a reference to its hurried completion.

In Stefan Grossman's deep interview with the Irish rocker, we have a veritable master class in blues-rock guitar, Rory Gallagher style. From essential albums to gear — including electric guitars, tube amps, acoustic guitars and accessories such as slides — to picking techniques, it’s all here, and much more.

Blues is said to be a universal experience — as Albert King once preached, "Everybody understands the blues" — and Rory Gallagher is surely a case in point. Born in Ballyshannon, County Donegal, Ireland, the first pieces Rory attempted to play were cowboy songs and Irish folk tunes on acoustic guitar, beginning at age nine. American rock and rollers such as Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran, Elvis Presley and Chuck Berry had an early impression on Rory, 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 Rory's 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.

In 1965 Rory formed Taste, the now legendary blues-rock trio, comprised of Eric Kitteringham on bass, Norman Damery on drums, and Gallagher on guitar, vocals, and, occasionally, saxophone. Although the power trio preceded Cream by several years, comparisons with the English supergroup were inevitable.

In 1969, the band signed with Polydor Records, but by 1970, the group had disbanded and Rory pursued a solo career. To date, Gallagher has appeared on over 20 albums, either as leader or sideman, and has graced sessions featuring such notables as Muddy Waters, Jerry Lee Lewi, and Albert King. He gave his first performance as a solo acoustic guitarist at the 1976 Montreaux Jazz Festival in Switzerland. He is currently remixing Photo-Finish, his latest LP for the Chrysalis label, which should be out in early March.

Here, Rory talks about his various musical styles and techniques and the guitars he uses to arrive at his distinctive, energetic sound—an old National Resophonic, a Martin D-35, a Fender Telecaster and his trademark, a battered 1959 Fender Stratocaster.

What Gallagher has to say about blues and rock and roll should be required reading for any aspiring guitarists, just as his many records and live performances should be required listening.

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 and 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 Li'l 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 and 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 should go out and try to get a good compilation first, like the Paul Oliver selections, The Story of the Blues, Vols. I & II [Columbia] which still have a couple of important people missing; for instance, Muddy Waters isn't on either volume — which is insane. But 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 on Columbia [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 either 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 [Blind Boy Fuller (Blues Classics)]. I think that Broonzy album where he does "Banker's Eilues" [The Young Big Bill Broonzy (Yazoo)] 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 (Chess) and as part of Muddy Waters (Chess)] 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 (Chess)] 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?

It's 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. He played a Kay, I think, with some odd pickup.

For electric slide, Earl Hooker is another favorite of mine. There are three players who use that same famous lick: Earl Hooker used it on "You Shook Me" by Muddy Waters; Muddy uses it all the time; and I think it came from Robert Nighthawk, who did "Sweet Black Angel." He's got a very mellow slide sound, but it's all in standard tuning — nothing's in open tunings.

So let's see: Muddy's important; Elmore James is important; John Lee Hooker; Hubert Sumlin; and the man, Howlin' Wolf. I suppose the best thing to do after you get a couple of compilations is to see which person really turns you on, then try to follow that strain.

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" [Legendary Father of Folk Blues (Columbia)]. 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 re-creator 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.

When you're performing, though, don't you consider yourself mainly a blues-oriented musician?

Yes, I do, but I think that I've always strived to forge ahead. At some point, when I'm 40 or 50, I hope I'll have a very distinct sound, as Elmore or Muddy did, so that when you turn on the radio, you’ll say, “That's Rory Gallagher.” It's a thin line between studying the blues and listening to an awful lot of it on one hand, and loving the stuff and doing some blues numbers in your own style on the other hand.

It's hard to break it down into percentages, because some nights we might do something like "Messing With the Kid," a well- known Junior Wells song, or "Bullfrog Blues," or "Rag Mama," the Blind Boy Fuller tune. By the songs I pick to do, you can see the kind of people I like. I like the slightly ragtime-ish blues players, but then again, I like Hooker.

Acoustics

Your changes of style seem to depend in part upon what instrument you are playing. Whereas you seem to lean toward a lot of the acoustic ragtime blues people, when you play electric guitar you go into a completely different area of blues music.

Well, I'm a great fan of all the Kings — the Alberts, the B.B.s and the Freddies. I wouldn't want to say that these people have been overrated, because that would be an absolute insult, but I think they've been recognized to the point where the Earl Hookers and Hubert Sumlins have been underrated. And the guitar player who was with Wolf before Sumlin, Willie Johnson, was a hot player as well.

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 20 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, let's 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 find that the National has any technical problems or limitations in terms of sound?

Well, on the one I have, the neck joins the body at the 12th fret, which is unfortunate. I prefer the 14th fret, but I can live with that. You just have to ride over the body with the slide. The action on it isn't bad, and the tuning is good. Obviously, it's loud and banjo-like, and there's only a certain amount of sustain in it, but I think that it slightly dictates what you play.

Could you explain that?

For instance, you don't really bend strings much on a National; you use it more as a straightforward, heavy-playing ragtime guitar, or you play in the Son House bottleneck school.

Do you have any problems miking that guitar onstage, or do you use a contact pickup?

I've tried everything on it. I've tried contact mics, and they just don't work. You have to use the resonator as the microphone. I think Bill Lawrence is making a new pickup that fits onto five-string banjos — you just clamp it onto the end of the neck — so something like that might work. But it's debatable whether you'd be getting a true reproduction of that Resophonic sound. I just put a microphone in front of the resonator and hope for the best.

I use sort of medium-gauge bronze strings — I float around between Earthwood, Darco, Guild, and D'Merle — and you just build up power and volume yourself.

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 a D tuning, except that the G remains a G.

That's a very English, folk, Baroque tuning à la Bert Jansch and John Renbourn. How do you use that playing the blues?

Yeah, that's right. Well, I'm a fan of that school. "Out on the Western Plain" was always one of my schoolboy favorites, because of the lyrics. I thought, Here's Leadbelly singing a song about cowboys and it didn't seem to be a part of the Black culture. But as it turns out, there were Black cowboys.

So I was fiddling around with slack D, or whatever they call it, and I found that there's an instant unison. If you use a two-fret interval on the second and third strings, you can go up like a dulcimer or a sitar. At any point up the neck, if you hit the second string at a certain fret and hit the third string two frets up, then those notes are the same. You get a kind of raga, dulcimer type of thing.

So it seemed such a nice idea to do the Leadbelly song in that semi-Celtic-cum-whatever style. It's never quite major or minor, so you can do tricks with it.

That particular tuning is from the English folk guitar school, isn't it?

Right. You can stick the Irish in there as well, because I'm sure bagpipe music had something to do with all of that, somewhere along the way. But that was what you could call a happy accident — getting that Celtic, British Isles, Baroque thing clashing with a blues song.

How do you have your Martin miked onstage?

I've got one of those little Ibanez bolt things. I find that the Ibanez has a bit more bite than the Barcus-Berry. If the place is small enough, I skip the pickup and play straight through the house microphone. I prefer to do that, because you can control the volume yourself. And when I use the contact pickup, I use the mike as well, so it's a blend of the two.

By controlling the sound with your hands, do you mean damping the strings?

Pressure on the strings, with your left or right hand. You can move slightly off mic or into the mic. You can just use yourself as a volume control.

How is that sound different from the contact mike?

Well, it's a fairly one-dimensional, compressed sound with a pickup, because, although it's as true as you can get to the natural acoustic sound, I don't think it's exactly there. But I can live with it. Ideally, what I'd like to have is another, lighter f-hole guitar onstage, with light-gauge strings for string-bending styles, but in the present repertoire I don't have any songs for that sort of thing.

What other acoustic things do you do?

I sometimes do this instrumental of my own called "Unmilitary Two-Step” — it's a cakewalk type of thing in C. I find that dreadnoughts need more medium-gauge strings, whereas the OM or f-hole models, the smaller ones, would obviously have to have light-gauge.

Electrics

What do you use for an electric guitar?

I have two different electrics. I have a 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 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 nine to eight, 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 six the guitar is still doing something.

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. It's 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.

Is your Strat modified in any way?

It's practically straight off the rack. The only modification is that the tone control for the middle pickup is now a master volume control, because over the years I've found that when you jump from the middle pickup to the lead, or treble, pickup you couldn't adjust it.

Why do you usually switch to the Telecaster for slide?

I thought it had a certain steel-guitar type of tone which would work well with slide, but I was frustrated with the rhythm 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.

Is it strung the same as the Stratocaster?

No, it's kind of a blend; it's more like medium-gauge. I have something like an .013 for the first, then .015, an unwound .018, and so on. On the Strat, it's as they come out of the packet — I think it's .010, .012, .015, .026, .032, .038. That seems to be about the most balanced set I could find. I would prefer something like an .040 on the bottom — which I sometimes stick on if I have it handy—because I think the bottom end is a little too light for me.

Is the action higher on the Telecaster for the slide work?

The action on the Strat is quite high as well. I like high action, like on an acoustic. The heavier-gauge strings on the Telecaster are a bit more taut anyway, so I don't have to raise the bridge. You can play not only slide, but regular guitar on it.

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.

Were these slides store-bought items, or did you just go to a hardware shop?

I went to a hardware shop and got the proverbial bit of piping chopped up and got a Brillo pad out and shone it up. There's a bit of surface noise there, but Son House has that sound; it's best, because it clings to the strings. I used to use copper on electric as well, but I found that the stainless steel was a pretty good compromise between the copper or bronze and the glass. Glass is nice, because it works a little more like a Hawaiian or lap steel guitar. It's sweeter and softer. I change my mind every couple of gigs.

With four guitars onstage—the Strat, the Tele, the Martin, and the National—is it difficult to adapt from one to another in terms of each instrument's feel?

I think you probably do it subconsciously if you play an awful lot. It never troubles me particularly; I just get ready for it. I know it's going to be slightly heavier strings or whatever.

For instance, on the National the neck joins the body at the 12th fret, but even though you have medium strings, you might be in D tuning, which is kind of slack anyway, so you're not called upon to bend the string up two tones or something. The only thing that throws me is moving from plectrum and fingers, which I use on the electric, to the thumbpick and fingerpicks. After doing, say, an hour of electric stuff, then switching to acoustic and putting on fingerpicks, I can't quite do it. If I were playing a straight folk club gig, I could probably manage it. When I'm playing around at home I just use my bare fingers, even on electric. Just the thumb and first finger, because that's another sound as well. There's a different arch involved in the hand.

Once in a blue moon all the odd tunings throw me, but I'm crazy about tunings. There's a lot that can still be done there. In the rock and roll field I don't think that that's been truly tapped yet.

Playing rock and roll in open tunings?

Well, not so much open tunings, but the odd tunings like DADGAD, or that kind of Celtic one Davy Graham was using — E A D E A E. It’s another bagpipe one.

Amplification

What type of amplification do you use?

For years I used a Vox AC-30, 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 treble booster, 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 ’50s 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-inch”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 feel that the old Fender amps are better than the newer Fenders?

They seem to warm up sooner. They wouldn't have the wide tonal range that the new Fenders have — particularly the new Fender Super Twin, which has a graphic equalizer, a master volume control, overdrive, and all that — but I probably have some interest in old amps over and above the actual music because of their appearance and because the guys in the ’50s used them. But I do find that they really have an atmospheric sound.

I've never been a fan of the hundred-watt stacks; that just hasn't appealed to me. I always like a Twin or a 4x10 speaker setup. And some of those hundred-watt stacks really only give you about 50 watts, while an AC-30 is a genuine 30 watts. Instead of a wall of sound, where you lose your song because it's spread out among eight speakers, I'd rather see a small amp turned to eight or nine and really hopping off the chair.

Do you use the same setup in the studio?

Yes, same thing, plus I have an old Magnatone, which went out through Sears-Roebuck in the States. Generally, I end up using the AC-30 or one of the old Fenders. I like to do lead parts live, so you obviously have to have an amp that will be fairly loud, so the other guys in the studio can hear you.

Picking vs. Fingers

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.

When you use both the flatpick and your fingers, are you fingerpicking with the middle and ring fingers?

Yes, sort of a James Burton type of thing. Obviously, if you're just chopping chords you don't use the fingers. Sometimes you might do the little harmonic tricks where you clip the string and get a squeal, but if you want to get a jingly-jangly thing, use your fingers.

Where did you pick that up?

I began playing just straightforward plectrum style, but as things went along it just seemed to fall into place. Besides I played in some dance bands and show bands in Ireland, where as often as not we didn't have a rhythm guitarist, so you'd play the rhythm part as well as the lead. Say you were doing a Shadows song — they were like the English Ventures — you'd have to fit in the melody and a form of rhythm. That's probably where I got it from, plus Ricky Nelson records with James Burton on guitar. He was obviously using his thumb and fingers or a pick and fingers.

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 thumb picks 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.

Do you see any advantage to the plectrum and fingers over thumbpick and fingerpicks?

The advantage of the plectrum and fingers is that you can forget about the fingers at certain points where, say, you're doing a Buddy Holly number or an Eddie Cochran thing or a modern blues, where the fingers don't really come in, where you really have to sledgehammer the guitar. If you were trying to play a rock and roll or electric blues thing, fingerpicks might become a little bit cumbersome — although they never seemed to get in Freddie King's way. He only used the thumbpick and one metal fingerpick, which surprised me.

Then there's an English guitarist, Tony McPhee, who plays with the thumb and one finger. I think John Hammond does it as well, although he picks, too. Johnny Winter plays with a thumbpick and his bare finger, kind of like Muddy Waters, although Muddy uses a pick on his index finger. Let's put it this way: If you want to play a lot of electric blues or electric blues-cum- rock or whatever, the plectrum plus the fingers is probably the best common denominator. Then acoustically you can imitate the Doc Watson style. But to be true to the old ethnic folk and blues traditions I guess you really should be at least familiar with using your thumb and fingers, because there are certain numbers where the plectrum is a hindrance.

Would a plectrum be a hindrance when you're slapping the string on some tunes?

I can get away with that, oddly enough, but that depends on how difficult the piece is. For instance, I don't think you could do a Blind Blake piece with plectrum and fingers, but you'd at least manage a version of it. It depends on how true to the old version you're trying to get. Maybe you're just playing it for fun; maybe you're doing it for very aesthetic reasons.

Most young guitar players nowadays, even if they've only been listening to people like the Beatles, must know that they couldn't do all those things with just a plectrum. Even like "Dear Prudence" on the Beatles' White Album — that's a D tuning or something, and Lennon is playing with his fingers. He's always been quite fond of that.

So you think it's very important for a student to learn to use fingers as well as a pick?

Yeah, even if he never touches folk or blues music. Of course, the sky's the limit nowadays, and I suppose for Chuck Berry rock and roll it doesn't matter too much, but even Keith Richard uses his fingers on things like "Honky Tonk Woman."

Effects

Do you use any effects devices?

Well, there are a million and one pedals around, and I have a phase shifter I use once in a blue moon in the studio, but I think that's been sort of overused. My favorite of all the gimmicks is the vibrato or tremolo — that old Bo Diddley sound. That's fantastic with distortion, because it really plays tricks with the rhythm and it foxes the player. I like to overdrive the amp, as opposed to using a fuzz box.

Better still, get a dirty Fender Champ and play the lead on that through a bigger amp. And I still prefer to get a wah-wah effect by working the guitar's tone control manually. I think it's more fun, and that's where the Fender guitar comes in and has a slight advantage over most Gibsons. Most Gibsons have two volume controls and two tone controls, and they're too far away to reach, and that's a bit of a drag. The Strat is ideal, because you can get the crying sound with the volume and tone controls.

Guitar Essentials

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 io 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 and 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 Django 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 cliche: 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.

Do you find yourself playing a lot during the day?

Quite a lot, yeah, in fits and starts. If I have a complete day off I play a bit after breakfast, for lateen minutes or so, to begin with.

Are there any specific exercises you play?

Nothing specific, no. I just try to get the old muscles loosened. Sometimes I'm working on a song, or I might play along with a record for the hell of it. You try not to be lazy; you try to do something that's a step ahead. The best all-around thing is a ragtime piece or a classical piece. Even if you're the hammiest classical player in the world — which I am — it's very good exercise.

On acoustic guitar?

On acoustic, yeah. Of course, on electric this is where the famous fingers-and-plectrum come in. See, if you're playing electric guitar on your own, and the guys in the band aren't around, it's very hard to just play notes. You're bound to start sticking in a chord and keeping the A string going while you're doing a bit of lead. It seems inevitable, you know.

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?

Before Jeff "Skunk" Baxter made a name for himself with Steely Dan and the Doobie Brothers, he was selling guitars. One of his customers was Jimi Hendrix. And as Baxter tells Rick Beato, the deal they made worked out wonderfully for Hendrix. Unfortunately, it landed Baxter in hot water with his bosses.

Baxter worked at numerous stores in his younger days and rubbed shoulders with the likes of Les Paul, Frank Zappa, and Mike Bloomfield. It was at Jimmy’s Music Shop in Manhattan that he met Hendrix in the mid 1960s. The guitarist was performing with Little Richard, who eventually fired Jimi for his offstage indulgences.

“He came into Jimmy's music store with an old, beat-up Duo-Sonic,” Baxter recalls. “I think he just got off the road with Little Richard, and he wanted to trade it.

“I had just put together a beautiful white Stratocaster,” he continues. “[It was] a right-handed Strat that I'd strung up left-handed and intonated and everything for a person that never had showed up. It was sitting there.

“I went, ‘Okay, I’ll trade you even.’ "

Baxter figured he'd done his job and kept merchandise moving out the door. But his bosses, Frank and Jim Squillaci, were understandably displeased by his inability to evaluate a fair trade.

"Frank and Jim docked me three weeks pay because they said that was not a good deal," Baxter said. "And these guys are businessmen.”

While it may have been a bad trade for Jimmy's Music Shop, considering the worth of a Stratocaster versus a Duo-Sonic, it was a great deal for Hendrix. Not only did he get a beautiful guitar — Baxter believes he handed the guitarist his first-ever Stratocaster.

If Baxter is correct, it begs the question, Did Jimi part ways with the Strat between then and his stint performing at Cafe Wha in Greenwich Village as Jimmy James? Reportedly, Hendrix was in need of a Stratocaster during that period and borrowed one from Keith Richards while the Rolling Stones were in New York City on their 1965 tour. Hendrix had befriended Linda Keith, Richards' girlfriend, who provided Jimi with the Strat. Whether or not it was ever returned is unknown.

While Baxter got the short end of his trade with Hendrix, it was the start of a friendship between the two guitarists. As Baxter previously told Guitar Player, he would often attend Hendrix's shows at Cafe Wha. .

“One night his bass player was late, so I got a chance to play a couple of tunes with him,” Baxter explained. “We became friends – not deep friends, but friends enough. We had some interesting conversations from then on. He was very kind and complimented my playing. Of course, I loved his playing. I was such a fan of Curtis Mayfield and Little Beaver [Willie Hale], and I could see how they influenced him. We had that in common.”

Randy California, who would go on to form Spirit in 1967, was also part of the band, and he and Baxter agreed the guitarist was destined for something great, even if they couldn't determine what.

“All you had to do was look at people’s faces as they listened to the music,” he remembers. “There was certainly the suggestion that this wasn’t a mere club band.”

Sitting down with GP on a separate occasion to give his top five tips for guitarists, he spoke about another thing he had in common with Hendrix when discussing his innate desire to explore what the guitar can do. Neither player was ever done experimenting.

“Somehow, I’ve always held onto the excitement of playing the guitar,” he said. “It’s always fun, and whether I’m in the studio or onstage, my brain is immediately attuned to learning what new thing I can do with it.”

Fender's Player II series has been the company's best-selling range of electric guitars of all time thanks to features that satisfy players who are new while meeting the needs of more experienced guitarists. Rosewood fingerboards, modern "C" necks with rolled edges, and vintage colors from the vaults are among the attributes that have made them so popular.

Right now, you can pick up a Limited-Edition Player II Stratocaster Forest Green for just $559.99 — $240 off the list price — during Fender's Cyber Monday sale.

It's just one of about 80 guitars the company has at reduced prices.

Look. you have tons of choices when it comes to buying a Fender Stratocaster. But whether you're looking for your first guitar, your first Strat or just a fine guitar for gigging, practice or to gift to someone special, the Player II Strat is a pretty remarkable guitar.

From its fast neck to its finish colors — some of which have been unearthed for the first time from Fender's archives — the Player II Strat is primed for the stage. Three Player Series Alnico V Single-Coil Strat pickups in tandem with a five-way blade switch, a master volume and two tone controls (neck/middle and bridge) deliver the classic Strat sounds we all know and love. Add in the two-point tremolo and ClassicGear tuners and you have a versatile guitar that delivers precise tuning stability.

At just $559.99, the Limited-Edition Player II Stratocaster in Forest Green is a tremendous bargain. But they're going fast at Fender's Cyber Monday sale.

If this doesn't float your boat, Fender has a host of guitars and guitar bundles on sale right now. It's a great time for savings.

Few guitarists are as passionate about vintage kit as Joe Bonamassa. He admits that he doesn't bother much with new gear and estimates he owns "maybe 10" new guitars.

But when it comes to vintage guitars, Joe's got everything from late-‘50s Gibson Les Paul Standards to quirky Fender Esquires, rarer-than-rare Flying Vs and more. Much more.

But what's cool about Joe is that he's not just a collector but a user of vintage electric guitars. At any given moment during a show, he might bust out a '59 Les Paul or a '55 Strat, such as his beloved “Bonnie Strat," which he calls “the best Strat" he owns.

To get to the hear of the matter, Joe Bonamassa dialed in with GP to talk about his beloved vintages curios, the Strats he favors Strats and more.

If you could have just one guitar, what would you choose?

Even though I'm a Les Paul guy, and I've made my reputation with that, I always say that if I had to do a gig with one guitar, I could pretty much get all the sounds I require out of a Fender Stratocaster.

I can get the really dark chewy sound out of the middle pickup and clean bright Tele stuff out of the bridge. And if you want the woman tone, it's all within the tone controls. The Strat will do everything if you just fiddle with the volume and the tones. You can get there with the different gain structures.

Generally, with a good maple-neck Fender Stratocaster, I can do my entire gig without switching guitars seven or eight times.

Is there a particular vintage Strat you can't live without?

My favorite Strat is one that I call the Bonnie Strat. I call it that because Bonnie Bramlett engraved her name on the back of the body in 2018 when she sang with us at our show. It's a 1955 Fender Strat, with a hardtail, and no trem.

She asked me to engrave my name onto her very famous guitar that everyone from Jerry Garcia to George Harrison. She brought the guitar with her into the studio in Nashville, and she's like, "Joe, I'd be honored if you'd carve your name into it with this knife." She whips out this blade, and I'm like, "You kidding me?"

First of all, it's hard to sign your name with a knife into an acoustic guitar; it's not as easy as it looks. I was honored by that. So when she came to our gig in St. Louis a few months later, I said, "Bonnie, I got a guitar for you to engrave your name in. I'd be just as honored, so bring your Dremel." She goes, "Oh, I'm there, honey."

I have videos of her with a Dremel, carving her name into the back of my '55 hardtail. It'll forever be known as the Bonnie Strat, and it's my best Strat. Every pickup position is just exactly how I hear a Stratocaster guitar sounding.

What's the one guitar you'll never play, and why?

I have a hard time with archtops, like Gibson Super 400s. There's nothing wrong with Super 400s or those big jazz guitars, but for a loud electric player like me, it's just a hard guitar to get under control. They're just big and unruly, but many players have used Super 400s. I mean, look at Steve Howe, a guy who could rock an ES-175 or Super 400 with Yes. That shit is loud and awesome.

What pedal is always on your pedalboard, and why?

I would say an [Ernie Ball] Cry Baby wah-wah pedal. I don't use the wah a lot, but it does something. Without it, it just feels wrong if it's not there. I'm kind of a straight in [the amp] kind of dude. If I'm sitting in with someone, I just like a high-powered Fender Twin. It does everything. It roars and cleans up well; all you need is a cable.

What's the one guitar you still long for, and why?

That's one I honestly don't have an answer for. I own everything. [laughs] I don't want to sound bourgeois, but I own everything I've always wanted.

What guitar did you long for the most before you found it?

Well, it's not a guitar. The longest journey from discovery to acquisition has to be the Lowell George Dumble Overdrive Special. That took 15 years. If you break down my favorite slide players, they're all essentially cut from the same cloth. Lowell had one Dumble amp, and I used to study that. But it doesn't take an Ancestry.com DNA test to know what this amp was built for. If you play that style, it gets there real quick.

Fender looks set to enter new territory after a prototype seven-string Stratocaster has been unveiled amid talks of “a bigger vision” for the guitar.

Through the success of djent and progressive metal, the demand for extended-range guitars has skyrocketed over the past two decades. Metal guitar luthiers like Ibanez and Jackson were quick to cash in on that demand and today, extended-range guitars are commonplace in any electric guitar store.

Despite that surge in popularity, more traditional luthiers like Gibson and Fender, have historically stuck to what they’re best at rather than experimenting in unchartered territory.

That is, until now. Talking on the latest episode of his podcast, Suicide Silence guitarist Chris Garza has shown off the first-ever seven-string Stratocaster made by Fender. It's a striking axe that, aptly, has been nearly seven years in the making.

“This is the first-ever official Fender – not Squier – seven-string hardtail. The first one ever in history,” he says. “Honestly, it still doesn’t seem real.

“I've been trying to manifest it, and it's now a physical, real thing. It even looks better in person as it did in my mind.”

As detailed by Garza, the guitar pairs a mahogany body and maple neck with an ebony fingerboard sporting 24 jumbo frets. Built to a 26.5” scale length, the Custom Shop creation sees Bare Knuckle Aftermath humbuckers sitting beneath its seven strings.

That makes it quite a rare beast, as typically Fender guitars come with Fender-voiced pickups, but of course, exceptions had to be made for what is currently a one-off prototype.

Its specs are rounded out with a string-through-body hardtail bridge, a single volume knob, and some choice body contouring, especially around the neck. There are also no inlays for a clean finish.

There’s a reason Garza was so clear underlining that this is a Fender build, and not one from its wallet-conscious sister firm, Squier. That’s because Squier has tried – albeit unsuccessfully – to bring seven-string guitars into the Fender family stable before.

First came the now gold-dust-rare Squier Stratocaster VII in 2000, which was made available with hardtail and tremolo bridges. The Squier Stagemaster 7 also arrived in 2000 and rocked a Floyd Rose-style floating tremolo but was discontinued two years later.

While this new build is a one-off, Garza hints that more chapters in the Fender seven-string story will soon be written.

“There’s a bigger vision with this guitar,” he continues. “I do want this to be a signature model at some point. We’ll see what happens.”

Noticeably, Fender has been blurring the lines between its roster of brands, which includes Jackson, Charvel, and EVH. Fender’s new American Ultra II line is a testament to that, with a great emphasis on faster and thinner necks, which is a trope those other three brands have hung their respective hats on.

If that trend is to continue, more seven-string Fenders doesn’t seem too far of a stretch. Indeed, as extended-range Jackson’s for Spiritbox’s Mike Stringer and Periphery’s Misha Mansoor prove, there’s a real renaissance for vintage-modern builds right now, with both only possible with Fender and Jackson collaborating. Fender could be sitting on a veritable gold mine.

It will be interesting too to see what Fender does regarding the pickups for potential seven-strings. Voicing its own pickups, drafting in Jackson designs, or using Seymour Duncans, which are commonly found on Jackson builds, all represent viable options.

For now, players can marvel at Garza's one-of-a-kind history-maker.

“Shout out to [Fender Custom Shop manager] Javier Cuba ,” he concludes. “He put in a lot of time on this. From the first conversation with Fender to getting it in my hand took almost seven years. It was definitely well worth the wait.”

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.

David Gilmour’s iconic Black Stratocaster became the most expensive guitar sold at auction when it fetched just under $4 million in 2019. The guitar was his go-to, and a legendary instrument from Pink Floyd's heyday on which he'd played his soul-searching solo in "Comfortably Numb." It was even featured in the classic Pink Floyd lineup's final show at the 2005 Live 8 concert.

But Gilmour has no regrets. For one thing, he regards guitars as “tools of the trade.” For another, he contends his Fender signature model, the Black Cat Strat, is every bit as good.

“Fender did a David Gilmour model, so now I’ve got the Black Cat Strat,” he says. “And it’s the same, you know? It does what it says on the tin.”

The signature model was released in 2008 after the design had met the exacting standards of Gilmour and his team, making the final product a worthy addition to his tool kit.

“Phil Taylor, my guitar tech, insisted on a lot of affection from Fender before we’d agree to do it,” he goes on. “The David Gilmour Signature Strat is a fine, fine instrument — and we make sure it stays that way. We’re on their case about it regularly. I think they’ve done an extremely good job in making a beautiful guitar.”

Pressed on whether it would pass a blindfold test against the original Black Strat, which is now lovingly owned by Jim Isray, he replied: “It certainly would with me. Why wouldn’t it?”

In addition, Gilmour has championed how the money raised by its sale has gone to a worthwhile cause.

“The charity the money went to, ClientEarth, is doing the most extraordinary work throughout the world,” he says. “Every day — I got one this morning — there’s an email about a court case they’ve won somewhere in the world, against countries where they break their own laws on climate change and emissions, or against people who are building plastics factories or cutting down medieval forests in Poland.”

Gilmour is currently on tour for his album Luck and Strange, which he promoted at a small British pub with a performance of the Pink Floyd classic Wish You Were Here featuring his daughter, Romany, on vocals.

When discussing the guitars that were crucial in the making of the record, Gilmour made his arguments for why vintage guitars will always sound better than their modern counterparts. But it seems in the case of the Black Strat versus the Black Cat, there will always be an exception to the rule.

In the video below from Gilmour's YouTube channel, he discusses the Black Strat prior to its sale.

Fender has partnered with Swiss watchmaker Bvlgari for its swankiest 70th anniversary Stratocaster yet, and there’s even a limited-edition watch to boot.

It’s quite a striking design. Bvlgari says it has “artfully embraced the inventive yet nostalgic design approach” of its watchmaking and helped transfer that across to its companion electric guitar.

A Wide-Fade Chocolate Two-Color Sunburst lacquer finish and a quarter-sawn maple neck a soft “V” back shape are two highlights, as is the atypical one-ply parchment pickguard that helps showcase more of its stunning finish.

These features are said to harken back to the ‘Golden Era’ of the electric guitar without condemning itself to pure nostalgia, as per the watch’s vintage-modern chic.

Three direct-mounted Custom Shop Hand-Wound ’54 Strat single-coils sit atop its two-piece ash body, which also has an off-center seam. Its flat-laminated rosewood fingerboard delivers 21 medium vintage frets and a bone nut, together augmented by modern Strat wiring.

As is to be expected, it has a five-way pickup switch, and is rounded out by a Fender Custom Shop Synchronized Tremolo, vintage-style tuners, a wing string tree, and a custom engraved Bvlgari neckplate. Because, why not?

The Strat’s time-keeping companion – not a drummer in this instance – has been limited to 1,200 units and also boasts a sunburst finish. Its clock face trim has a split colorway – dark brown on its lower half to represent nighttime hours, and a creamy white for daytime. Fret-inspired polished indices and hands also make the cut.

“The Stratocaster has been at the forefront of musical progress and sonic exploration for the last 70 years,” says Fender’s Justin Norvell. “We wanted to partner with a brand with a similarly rich history; we’re sure fans of both brands will be very excited by the prospect of adding them to their collections.”

“As enthusiasts of both horology and music, we naturally joined up with Fender for a collaboration that transcends aesthetics; it’s a celebration of heritage, design, and innovation,” adds Bvlgari CEO, Jean-Christophe Babin.

“This collaboration is the fusion of two iconic legacies and two precision instruments. It symbolizes a harmonious journey through time and sound.”

Alongside the 1,200 watches, 140 Exclusive Anniversary sets, and 70 standalone guitars costing $4,525 each, will be made available on August 30.

Visit the Fender Custom Shop to learn more.

The news that Rory Gallagher’s iconic Fedner Stratocaster is to be sold at auction this October has caused quite a chain reaction of events.  

First, the daughter of the man who sold Gallagher what's reported to be the first Fender Stratocaster to make its way to Irish shores – for £100 in 1963 – set up a fundraising campaign to buy the guitar and make it the centerpiece of a music museum in Cork. 

Now, senior political figures in Ireland are echoing the sentiments of the campaign, with the Irish government considering purchasing Gallagher's beloved six-string due to its national significance. 

The instrument first belonged to Jim Conlon of The Royal Showband. He then reportedly sold the guitar to Crowley’s Music Store in Cork, Ireland six months later, because he was upset that a sunburst model was sent instead of the red finish he’d ordered. 

Gallagher, who was 16 when he bought the instrument, paid for it in installments, and forged a reputation as one of the electric guitar’s greatest-ever players with it under his fingertips. 

He was rarely seen without it, leading his nephew Daniel to tell Guitarist, “truthfully, it was his wife.” 

The guitar is set to stand as the main feature of Bonham's "The Rory Gallagher Collection" during an auction in October, where it is estimated to fetch up to £1,000,000. 

The Irish deputy Prime Minister [Tánaiste] and Minister for Foreign Affairs and Minister for Defence, Micheál Martin, says he is bringing the matter to the attention of the country’s Heritage Minister, Catherine Martin.

“I would love to [keep it in Ireland] if we could,” he stated. “I will talk to [Minister] Catherine Martin and see what is possible. But it would be lovely if we could get that guitar back on Leeside.”

He adds that during his spell as Lord Mayor of Cork (1992-93), he hosted a civic reception for Gallagher, having witnessed him prove why he is one of the nation’s most beloved guitar players.  

“I have very fond memories (of the civic reception) – he played in the Everyman Theatre,” he told The Irish Times. “His brother Donal was there on the night and I asked Donal if Rory would mind being honored tomorrow.

“Donal said he was extremely shy and that he shied away from all these kind of public events, but he did come in and we had a small group of about 40 people. I have very fond memories of that day in Cork City Hall.” 

Martin is tentative about what level of involvement the government can provide. However, conscious of the instrument's cultural significance, he says he is exploring his options. 

The current Lord Mayor of Cork, Cllr Dan Boyle, who saw Rory Gallagher play numerous times in the early '80s, has backed Martin's ambitions and called on the government to do what it can. 

“Rory Gallagher’s guitar is very distinctive and is probably one of the most recognizable guitars in rock history,” he says. 

“Rory was one of the first to put Irish rock on the international stage so it’s an important item culturally, and I think it’s important that it should be kept in the State, so that’s why I’ve made contact with Government departments and State agencies.” 

At the time of writing, the fundraising campaign, which has helped raise awareness of the importance of keeping the guitar in Gallagher’s homeland, has raised over €20,000 from over 400 donations. It has a target of €1m set.  

The Bonham's auction is set to take place on October 17. 

Rory Gallagher’s instantly recognizable 1961 Fender Stratocaster is set to be sold at auction, leaving his family’s charge for the first time. 

It was the Irish blues sensation’s weapon of choice as he carved out a superlative legacy as one of the world’s most inventive electric guitar players, across a career spanning three decades. 

Purchased by a then 15-year-old Gallagher for £100 in 1963 from Crowley’s Music Store in Cork, Ireland, and paid for in installments, it has been preserved by Rory’s brother and former manager, Dónal, since his passing in 1995. 

Now, Dónal believes the time is right for someone else to “cherish” the instrument. 

“Since 1995, I have always felt that there was a mission to be fulfilled to cement Rory's legacy and widen the knowledge of his music,” he says. “So, in what is one of the most difficult and sensitive decisions to reach, I have decided to facilitate the release of his instruments for sale, so that these emblems of his legacy can be enjoyed by others.”

The auction is being handled by Bonhams, which has previously sold iconic guitars once owned by Peter Green and George Harrison. Considering its history, it is set to be offered with an estimated value of £700,000 – £1,000,000 (up to approximately $1.3 million).   

The guitar represents the star piece in Bonham’s The Rory Gallagher Collection, which includes a select number of his guitars, amps, and virtuoso-approved accessories. 

While Gallagher played a number of electric guitars over the years, including a ’59 Fender Esquire, a ‘63 Gretsch Corvette, and a 1932 National Resonator, his Stratocaster was the one he was rarely seen without, and it has a storied past. 

The instrument first belonged to Jim Conlon of The Royal Showband, who was supposedly forced to play the sunburst model despite ordering a red finish. 

It’s said to be the first-ever Stratocaster to make its way to Ireland, but the accolade wasn’t enough for Conlon to keep hold of the instrument, and he sold it six months later. That led to Gallagher’s ‘63 purchase and, because of its rarity, the sunburst Strat quickly became synonymous with Gallagher’s talents.  

The guitar’s stripped and rugged look is a huge part of its palpable aura. Yet, while many will believe it’s the result of tireless touring beneath Gallagher’s fingers – and that is indeed a major contributor – it isn’t the only reason it looks the way it does. 

The guitar was stolen from Gallagher in 1966, with national TV channel RTE subsequently running a news report on its disappearance. 

Perhaps then realizing they’d bitten off more than they could chew, the thief discarded the instrument in a rainy ditch, where it was left for several days. 

The damage caused during those days broke the finish's resistance and Gallagher’s punchdrunk playing did the rest. 

Gallagher changed the pickups on the guitar several times, while a neck replacement was required after the guitar had soaked up too much of Gallagher’s sweat during his high-intensity live shows. Its original tuners and pickguard have also been replaced.  

Rory’s right-hand technique was notably aggressive, hence the number of pinch harmonics that would seep into his playing, and thus, the second pickguard has been split through playing, noticeable above the neck pickup. 

Allowing Guitarist to get up close and personal with Rory's cherished axe, Rory's nephew, Daniel, said “it meant a hell of a lot to him, and was a huge part of his sound.

“He played it to death. I don't think he would have swapped it for anything in the world,” he added. “Truthfully, it was his wife.”  

“Rory Gallagher’s 1961 Fender Stratocaster was an enormous part of his life and was with him from the very start of his career right until the end,” says Claire Tole-Moir, Head of Bonhams' Popular Culture Department. 

“It could be said that it was on this guitar that he carved out his legacy of being one of the greatest guitarists of all time.” 

The auction, which takes place on October 17, will surely stand as one of the most high-profile guitar auctions of 2024. If the final figure reaches the upper echelons of the estimate, it could become one of the most expensive six-strings to be sold at auction. 

Head over to Bonhams to find out more.

In celebration of the Stratocaster’s debut in the spring of 1954, Fender has launched a series of 70th Anniversary models for 2024 that range from the American Vintage II 1954 Stratocaster in two-color sunburst to the latest Ultra Stratocaster HSS, in an Amethyst finish that pushes the boundaries of automotive technologies. 

Fender’s EVP of product design, Justin Norvell, tells us, “We reached out to paint suppliers to see what’s happening in the automotive space, because part of Fender’s history is car colors. We’ve been playing with flip-flop-type colors, like Chrome Glow on the H.E.R model – one of the first of the 3-D, chameleon-like colors we’ve done – and Amethyst, which we’ve been holding for the right guitar. The Ultra turned out to be perfect for it.

“Amethyst looks like a sports-car color and goes with the contemporary vibe this guitar symbolizes. We offer it only in Amethyst because it’s very involved to do and the paint is expensive, but it’s cool to do it in a limited capacity.”

The Ultra Stratocaster HSS on review here is an attention grabber indeed. Its pearly iridescent Amethyst finish radiates blue, orange, and green hues as you view the sculpted alder body in bright light – or practically any light, for that matter. With its enhanced contours, the glossy body presents a lovely contrast to the roasted maple neck, which wears a hand-rubbed oil-urethane finish on the back, and features a hand-filling Modern D profile. 

Adding to the complexity of the build – and for reasons that are specifically for player comfort and feel – the fingerboard has rolled edges, is finished in satin nitrocellulose-lacquer, and has a 10- to 14-inch radius and 22 medium-jumbo frets with polished crowns and smoothly beveled ends. In concert with a tapered heel that provides easy access to the high positions, the playability of this guitar sums up as “sleek and fast.”

Strings load through the inertia block of the two-point vibrato, which has chunky steel saddles and a push-in stainless-steel bar, and is adjusted to float, as per the factory setup. The bending feel is silky, and the chrome-plated unit returns to pitch very well, facilitated by a set of sealed locking tuners and a carefully worked bone nut that doesn’t create string-pinging when you abuse the bar.

In the electronics department, the Ultra’s complement of 70th Anniversary pickups consists of a pair of noiseless single-coils in the neck and middle slots, and a new Quadra Tap humbucker in the bridge position. Norvell says that it’s all about evolving a platform that has never stopped evolving.

“The Quadra Tap pickup is one of the most intense things we’ve done. When people say ‘tap,’ a lot of times they mean coil-split. A regular humbucker has less winds on it than a single-coil. So in our Double Tap pickup, for example, one of the coils is overwound, but it’s reduced, or tapped, in its humbucker mode. So when you split the coils, it would ‘un-tap’ to be a full single-coil. The Quadra Tap does that, too, but with both of the coils, so now you’ve got more sonic options.”

The five-way blade switch selects the pickups in the standard fashion – the three individually and the neck/middle and middle/bridge combinations. A volume control and dual tone knobs (one for the neck and middle pickups, and one for the humbucker) complete the lineup. However, the Ultra’s range of sounds is enhanced by virtue of the first two controls having push-on/off S-1 switches invisibly embedded into their tops.

These sly switches activate, respectively, a coil-split and a “hot voicing” for the Quadra Tap, which, in the latter, means both coils are now untapped and engaged at their highest output. And it’s all done passively.

Both of these S-1 functions proved useful, as the coil-split brings out the chime and sparkle in the middle/bridge combo, while the hot voicing unchains the bridge pickup to be louder and fatter, which is great in full ’bucker mode for fat, sustaining distortion tones or when running in coil-split for ripping single-coil lead and dirty-rhythm sounds.

The Ultra Stratocaster offers a ton of great tones and presents handy options that become obvious when you dig into the switching choices and see where they lead you on the inspirational curve.

Whether your stylistic tastes lean toward Jimi Hendrix, Eddie Van Halen, or Stevie Ray Vaughan for rock and blues, or you’re into channeling the funky soul of Nile Rodgers or shredding with the atmospheric awesomeness of Eric Johnson, you’ll find the 70th Anniversary Ultra Stratocaster a mesmerizingly cool guitar, as well as a tribute to the genius of Leo Fender for creating an instrument that can be re-imagined to suit players needs. 

As Norvell puts it, “It’s not just asking, ‘How do we replicate stuff from the 1950s,’ but rather, ‘How do we continue to evolve a guitar that’s never stopped evolving since 1954?’ The idea with all these limited editions is not just to make a 70th Anniversary Stratocaster that celebrates the past; it’s also about showing where we’re headed for the future.” 

Specifications – Fender 70th Anniversary Ultra Stratocaster HSS

CONTACT Fender

PRICE $2,499

NUT Bone, 1.685” wide 

NECK Roasted maple bolt-on, Modern D shape

FRETBOARD Maple, 25.5” scale 10”–14”  compound radius

FRETS 22 medium jumbo

TUNERS Sealed locking

BODY Alder

BRIDGE Ultra 2-point Tremolo

PICKUPS 70th Anniversary noiseless Ultra Strat single-coils (neck and middle), 70th-anniversary Quadra Tap humbucker (bridge)

CONTROLS Master volume, dual tone controls, five-way switch. S-1 switches on tone knobs for activating coil-split and hot voicing sounds

EXTRAS Nitrocellulose lacquer finish. Black tweed case. Iridescent Amethyst gloss finish

FACTORY STRINGS Fender .010–.046

WEIGHT 8.18 lbs (as tested)

BUILT USA

In recent years, John Mayer has rarely been spotted without his best-selling PRS Silver Sky signature guitar. However, he’s recently resumed playing some old favorites, like his Jimi Hendrix Monterey Stratocaster. 

During his recent residency shows at Las Vegas’ uber-futuristic The Sphere with Dead & Company, he’s been seen wielding a familiar-looking white Stratocaster with a reverse headstock. 

Fans had theorized that it looked strikingly similar to the late Jeff Beck’s Custom Shop Strat, and now gear guru Joe Bonamassa has confirmed those eagle-eyed suspicions, saying it is indeed the real deal.  

Instagram account JohnMayerGear and Youtuber Justin Jeske were the first to draw the parallels to Beck’s 2014 build, noting its reverse headstock, split roller nut, block saddles, and two-point bridge. 

However, the account assumed that the guitar was a custom model built for Mayer, considering Beck's guitar never saw a production run green-lit. The reality, though, is even more exciting, with Bonamassa commenting on the former's post: “It is Jeff Beck’s Strat.”  

Beck’s famed guitar, as it turns out, has been lent to Mayer for a few of their shows at The Sphere, with the guitar used for the songs Black Peter and Days Between – as reported by JohnMayerGear. 

A separate post theorizes his trio of amps for the shows – and what the Beck build was ultimately paired with – was made up of a Dumble Overdrive Special, a Fender Twin Reverb, and, probably, a Dumble Small Special.  

Taking the guitar’s esteemed heritage into account, Mayer channeled his inner Jeff Beck via some fluttering whammy bar lines and fingerpicking in honor of his pick-less playing style, looking very much in his element. 

He’d previously played a Jeff Beck Master Built Strat to track Heartbreak Warfare, from 2009’s Battle Studies. This showcase takes his Beck love affair one step further. 

It's probably a good thing he didn't copy Beck's '66 antics with The Yardbirds, when the former smashed a sunburst Hofner Senator to pieces before Jimmy Page's eyes. 

One of Adrian Belew’’s most famed Stratocasters wasn’t relic’d through years of touring like you'd think – it was a DIY cosmetic job to fix what the veteran guitarist deemed to be an ugly guitar. 

Speaking in the new issue of Guitar World, the former King Crimson guitarist explains how pickup maker Seymour Duncan essentially abused its now-adored relic’d finish out of the 1969 Stratocaster after he’d bought the instrument for a bargain price. 

“I went to a local used guitar store and was poking around,” Belew remembers. “And in the back they had this kinda ugly Stratocaster hanging on the wall – like a brown sunburst. I said, ‘How much for this one?’ They said, ‘It doesn’t have a case, so we’ll give it to you for $285.’ A pretty good buy, I thought.”

The guitar would later star, alongside Belew, on the front cover of Guitar World magazine, but not before Duncan helped fix its less-than-desirable brown finish in a slightly brutal fashion. 

“I called up Seymour when I was back out in California, and I said, ‘What am I gonna do? I have this ugly-ass guitar.’ He said, ‘I know what to do.’ He got in the trunk of his car and took out all these things – files and a screwdriver and spray paint and lighter fluid.

“He laid it on the lawn, and before I could say anything, he took the lighter fluid out and squirted it on the face of the guitar and set it on fire,” Belew continues. “I said, ‘Well, I guess I’m committed now!’

“Then he went to work. He dragged it through the grass. He sanded the back of the neck and put motor oil on it. He took screwdrivers and things and chipped some of the stuff off of it. I did the spray paint – a few bits here and there.”

“This is what I used on Zappa’s Sheik Yerbouti, Bowie’s Lodger, Talking Heads’ Remain in Light, and in my early days with King Crimson. I’m holding it on the cover of Lone Rhino,” he later told Guitar Player of the “beat to heck” Strat.   

Relic’d guitars have become highly sought after in recent years, with a number of off-the-shelf guitars imitating road-worn finishes. 

Fender has meticulously recreated Joe Strummer’s time-ravaged Esquire, and Monty's Guitars has even made a wax to help relic unfinished bodies and fretboards as firms jump on the trend. 

Gibson's Murphy Lab unveiled its first round of relic'd guitars in 2021, and, most recently, recreated Jason Isbell and Ed King's 'Red Eye' Les Paul for a limited, relic'd run. 

Still, as impressive as those creations are, there’s something more appealing about the idea of creating body blemishes and beyond yourself. 

Rory Gallagher’s Stratocaster wouldn’t be the same without its relic’d body, but it also wouldn’t have been the same if he bought it from a guitar store in that condition – the guitar has personality and history.    

Belew seems to echo that sentiment, adding: “I’m gonna be bold and say that might be the first relic’d guitar, and you can thank Seymour Duncan for that.”

In his legendary tenures in Deep Purple and Rainbow – and even through to his current exploits in Renaissance music – Ritchie Blackmore, when playing electric guitar, has rarely been seen using anything other than a Fender Stratocaster. But if it wasn’t for Eric Clapton, that might have never proved to be the case. 

Speaking in the latest issue of Guitar World, Blackmore details how Clapton altered his six-string trajectory in 1969 by – via a roadie – providing him with his first Strat.  

“I was in Deep Purple in 1969 and I was living in Acton, London,” Blackmore remembers. “We were all in the same house, the whole band. Eric Clapton’s roadie came by the house because he knew one of my roadies, and he brought a Strat with him.”  

Before then, his instrument of choice was a Gibson ES-335, which can be heard on Emmaretta, from Deep Purple's 1969 self-titled album. When its neck began to bow, Blackmore began looking for an upgrade. 

“I think [the Strat] was black,” he continues. “So I said to him, ‘Do you want to sell that guitar? It looks interesting, and I wanted to try out a Strat.’ He said, ‘I’ll sell it to you for £60.’ I said, ‘Okay, you’re on.’ So, for £60, I bought one of Eric Clapton’s old Strats that he obviously didn’t want because he gave it to the roadie.”

It seems a bargain price, but taking inflation into account, £60 then is equivalent to about £842 (~$1,075) today. 

Blackmore's guitar collection has since grown, with Stratocasters a common sight, but, as he adds in his latest interview, it was Clapton’s second-hand Strat that he said was his “initiation into playing a Strat.”

The rest, as they say, is history. Blackmore would forge a palpable relationship with Stratocasters, helping propel seminal Deep Purple albums like In Rock and Machine Head.

His Stratocasters haven't been left to collect dust, however. They feature prominently on a number of Blackmore's Night [the guitarist's Renaissance music-minded group] tracks, with The Last Musketeer, from 2021’s Nature’s Light, being a standout moment. 

As previously reported by Guitar Player, it was a track written in honor of the “favorite” band he played in back in the early '60s, called The Musketeers. He is now the sole surviving member, and the song – which oozes beautiful blues tones that only a Blackmore-wielded Strat could produce – is his tribute to his former bandmates. 

Fender’s CBS era is often viewed rather unfavourably by the average guitar fan, and early '70s Stratocasters are widely seen as the least fashionable and desirable models from that time.

The acquisition led, in some minds, to a downturn in quality – but Walter Trout refused to take such a sweeping statement at face value. 

Earlier this year, the blues rock great released his 31st album, Broken, which features both his Delaney Guitars signature model, built in 2021, and his 1973 Fender Stratocaster.

Contrary to general opinion, Trout is full of praise for his “off the shelf” CBS Strat – so much so that, when Delaney Guitars approached him about making a signature model, he used it as the template for the new build.  

“Most of the album was recorded with my Delaney Guitars Walter Trout model,” he says in the latest issue of Guitar Player. “It’s also the guitar I use on tour. Anything else was my 1973 Fender Start, which is the guitar that the signature model was based on.” 

Tonally speaking, Trout says the guitars are “very close”, with luthier Michael Delaney doing a “magnificent job” of replicating a guitar many would disregard before even strumming a chord on it.

“I bought it off the shelf in 1973,” says Trout. “I’m the only person who’s ever owned it.

“The one thing that he changed, at my request, was the weight,” he admits. “It weighs more than a Les Paul I have. One of the main reasons I can't use it onstage is that my shoulders can't take the weight anymore. The signature model is so light that you can hold it up with your pinkie.” 

In 1985, CBS ended its era of Fender management after a two-decade tenure. As time has since ticked on, some big names – including Strat obsessive Yngwie Malmsteen – have come to the defense of '70s Strats. Now, Trout is the latest to do so.  

“When people tell me what's not good, I always think, I'll make up my own mind,” Trout goes on defiantly. “I remember going to see Little Feat in the early '70s, and Lowell George was using a brand-new guitar... If someone tells me a '70s Strat is no good, I'll say, 'Well, here's what I fucking can do with it!’”   

To pick up the new issue of Guitar Player – which features an in-depth interview with Trout about deviating from the blues rock template on Broken, the gear used to track it, and his unlikely collaboration with Dee Snider – head over to Magazines Direct. 

For the majority of his seven-decade career – particularly in its second half – electric guitar hero Jeff Beck was synonymous with the Fender Stratocaster. Beck's own signature Strat has been in production – in one form or another – for over 30 years, and it's almost impossible to picture the legend in the latter half of his career without one.

Beck's love affair with Leo Fender's most famous creation, however, wasn't without its rough patches. 

Indeed, when Beck sat down for a chat with Guitar Player in 1973 – at the peak of his Les Paul era – the guitarist minced no words about what he saw as the Strat's lesser qualities. 

“Fenders are cheap in feel,” Beck – always a straight shooter – told GP at the time.

“You pick up a Les Paul and it's heavy and it really means something – it means business. The Fender was nice because you could grip it like a weapon and really chunk out the chords, but when you came to the more subtle stuff it wasn't there.

“After a while I got so used to the Les Paul, there was no turning back,” Beck added. “I picked up my Fender and thought, ‘How the hell did I ever play this?’”

Within just a couple of years, however, Beck – never one to creatively and sonically stand still – became disenchanted with the Les Paul.

Around 1980, feeling limited by both the Strat and the Les Paul, Beck began a brief, informal partnership with Ibanez, developing a never-realized signature model that featured the double-cut body of a Strat, the dual-humbucker configuration of a Les Paul, and a mind-boggling control layout.  

At the time, a Guitar World investigation into the partnership revealed, Beck was also being pursued by Fender, which was eager to return Beck to the Strat fold.

Eventually, Fender's wooing succeeded, with the company creating a signature model that (originally) featured a bridge humbucker and the thick U-shaped neck Beck preferred. 

When asked to compare the Strat to a Les Paul in a 2009 interview with Guitar Player, Beck said, “It’s a totally different animal. One is for very subtle and, I would say, more musical things that you can distract and abuse. You can’t do it with a Les Paul. It’s too delicate. It’s got a very delicate tone.”

After 10 years of grueling one-night stands, forging a reputation as a one-of-a-kind new breed of electric bluesman, Stevie Ray Vaughan was poised to make 1983 his watershed year. Stevie’s Stratocaster sprayed blistering licks across David Bowie’s Let’s Dance, released that same year, punctuating the songs with a dose of Texas grit and primo blues flavorings and taking Bowie’s songs to a whole new level.

It was only half of the story, though, as shortly after the release of Let’s Dance, he delivered his startling, game-changing debut album, Texas Flood.

While Let’s Dance was a fantastic showcase for Stevie to sprinkle some of his Texas hot-sauce stylings, Texas Flood was the full-blown, no-holds-barred, real deal – arguably the greatest blues-rock album made since Jimi Hendrix and Johnny Winter were in their prime. Sure, there were plenty of great discs that might loosely fit the pigeonhole of blues rock, but their emphasis was always on the rock side of the tracks. With Stevie, blues was king.

At a time when there wasn’t too much to excite anyone looking for a hefty dose of full-blooded, ass-kicking, guitar-focused blues, Stevie brought not only outstanding guitar pyrotechnics but a sense of style and flamboyance that made his every performance an event.

Prior to his breakthrough, it had been his big brother, Jimmie, who, with his band, the Fabulous Thunderbirds, had managed to revitalize a tired genre that was mired in predictability and clichéd, extended wig-outs. The T-Birds returned the blues to the juke-joint concept of short, sharp songs that got to the point and moved one’s soul via their feet.

Stevie opted for a different route to express his unique mojo, channeling the wild excesses of Hendrix, mixed with a big chunk of Albert King. While there have always been any number of great guitarists who can fire off Hendrix-inspired fusillades of killer licks, or cop Albert’s trademark moves, no player combined the essential elements of what made those two guitarists so important while retaining a strong sense of their own identity. The fact that Stevie was held in the same high reverence as his iconic influences is testament to the magic that he wielded whenever he broke out his succession of road-worn, battered old Strats.

While 1983 was the year of his big breakthrough, the events of the previous year set the stage for what was to come. The catalyst for everything that came to fruition was Stevie’s appearance at the 1982 Montreux Jazz Festival with his band, Double Trouble, featuring bassist Tommy Shannon and drummer Chris Layton. The trio played their usual blistering set, as can be heard on Live at Montreux 1982 & 1985, but what can also be heard is a section of the crowd who were booing Double Trouble’s ramped-up take on the blues.

If Stevie and his band were dismayed by the response, they put those thoughts behind them when they met Jackson Browne backstage. The folk-rocker was so impressed by what he had seen and heard that he offered the group free recording time in his California rehearsal studio, Down Town.

David Bowie was also in attendance, and what he saw stuck in his mind as he began recording his next album and needed someone who could really make an impact on his sound. “I figured that Montreux was the key to the whole thing, what with Jackson and Bowie,” Layton tells Guitar Player. “And I really had a strong sense that everything was about to change anyway after that.”

Stevie and the band made their way to Browne’s studio in November 1982, working through Thanksgiving to spend three days cutting the tracks that would, unbeknownst to them at the time, become their debut album. “We managed to get two songs down the first day and eight the second day of recording,” Shannon recalls. “We just set up like a live gig. We didn’t have isolation.”

Layton concurs. “We set up in a circle, just like we did onstage, put mics on everything and ran through the songs a couple of times,” he says. “Everything was a first or second take I believe.”

Stevie mostly played his “Number One” guitar on the sessions, an alder-bodied 1962 Fender Stratocaster he mistakenly referred to as a “’59” due to markings on the backs of the pickups. He also brought along Lenny, a brown, maple-neck Strat given to him by his wife, Lenora.

For amps, Stevie used two Fender Vibroverbs and Browne’s own 150-watt Dumbleland Special and 4x12 cab with Electro-Voice EV12L speakers.

While Browne’s gift was much appreciated, the band were unimpressed with the assistance they were provided. Down Town engineer Greg Ladanyi had kindly offered up his services for the ragged band of Texans over the holiday weekend, but he wasn’t interested in doing much more than capturing the group on tape. Stevie was unhappy with the sound he was hearing.

As it happened, Richard Mullen, a musician and friend who had run sound for them in Austin, was in Los Angeles. Over the group’s dinner break, Mullen encouraged Stevie to speak up and demand the sound he wanted. Returning to the studio, they found Ladanyi was gone and another engineer in his place. Newly emboldened, Stevie told the man that Mullen would be taking over the session. Within an hour, things were sounding much better.

As Mullen recalled to Guitar World in 2004, he used two Shure SM57s on Stevie’s amps: one on a Fender Vibroverb and one on the 4x12. “Stevie played through two Vibroverbs, but I only miked one of the speakers in one of them,” Mullen said. “I positioned the mics about three or four inches off the cabinet at about a 45 degree angle to the cone. The only effect he used was an Ibanez Tube Screamer.”

The band only cut the backing tracks at this point – the vocals would be tracked at Riverside Sound in Austin – but as Layton recalls, the plan all along had been to record the equivalent of a demo. “We weren’t making the tapes to make an album,” he says. “It was just to record our songs. It just turned into an album later.”

Double Trouble played a few dates in L.A. to help pay for their room at the Oakland Garden Hotel while they were cutting the record. Layton recalls being woken at 3:30 in the morning by a phone call. “I remember thinking that it was pretty strange to be getting a call from David Bowie,” he says with a laugh. The British musician had not forgotten Stevie’s performance at Montreux months earlier. Now in the middle of making Let’s Dance, he decided Stevie’s guitar work was the missing ingredient and tracked him down.

“He wanted to speak to Stevie, so I had to go wake him up and tell him David Bowie’s on the phone,” Layton says. “They seemed to be talking for quite a while. When he came off the phone he told me that Bowie wanted him to play on his new album.”

As it happened, he had never really been a fan of Bowie’s music. “Stevie never listened to David Bowie,” Shannon says. “The songs on Texas Flood showed you what Stevie loved, you know?” Adds Layton, “He respected Bowie, but he definitely wasn’t a fan per se. He thought he was talented, and he’d obviously had a great career.”

Regardless, no one could deny it was a great opportunity for Stevie. “Management told Stevie he really had to do Bowie,” Shannon says. “They didn’t anticipate that there would be a conflict with Texas Flood, because at the time we hadn’t even secured a deal or anything. We didn’t even know that we were making an album!”

Of course, with the recordings for Texas Flood completed, there remained the task of deciding what to do with them. “We called our manager, Chesley Millikin, and suggested that he call John Hammond to see if there was something we could do,” Layton says. An active musician, talent scout and producer since the 1930s, Hammond was behind the careers of countless musicians, including Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Michael Bloomfield and George Benson. “Apparently, when Chesley told John that we had a whole record’s worth of music ready, he said he’d get us a record deal with Epic. The deal was on the table before Stevie even started recording with Bowie.”

With things looking good on the band front, in January 1983 Stevie traveled to the Power Station studio in New York to begin working on Let’s Dance. Hearing him for the first time, producer Nile Rodgers didn’t share Bowie’s enthusiasm for the guitarist, whose solos he felt leaned too heavily on Albert King.

He soon changed his mind after Stevie loosened up and began to draw from his own unique palette of rich blues flavorings. Rodgers later admitted that he’d misunderstood Stevie’s intention: Where a lesser player would have unloaded licks all over the track, Stevie laid back, embellishing with just what the song required. He may have been a masterful exponent of the extended blues solo, but Stevie knew when to play and when to let the song breathe. He cut all his solos in a couple of days over the completed backing tracks, listening to each song once before adding his contributions in no more than two or three takes – although the first take was usually the one selected.

Stevie’s playing and tone on Let’s Dance was impeccable. Using a Strat and a Fender Super Reverb, he brought a richness of sensitivity and atmospheric depth to the songs that was transformative. Although Rodgers changed his opinion of his playing, Stevie himself joked that he basically played his favorite Albert King licks, and told one interviewer that Albert had ribbed him for doing so. But there is no doubt that Stevie’s mojo was all his own.

When Bowie’s album was released in April 1983, the reviews were uniformly strong. Stevie’s playing was often cited as a particular highlight, with good reason. It’s hard to imagine that the album would have hit home with such resonance without his dynamically sensitive Strat stylings.

Although Texas Flood was set for release, Stevie was scheduled to play on Bowie’s extended world tour to support Let’s Dance. Reportedly, Bowie’s camp intimated that Double Trouble could open for Bowie on selected dates, but Shannon and Layton have slightly different memories and perspectives on this.

“David definitely told us that we could open for him from the outset,” Shannon says. Layton, however says, “Bowie was actually a little vague about the prospect of us opening.” Although he acknowledges that the singer and Double Trouble agreed it would be great to tour together when they met at Montreux, “my instincts were that he wanted Stevie to play on the record, and having Stevie on that record was his prime concern, not what Double Trouble would do.”

As rehearsals for the Let’s Dance tour got underway in Dallas that April, it was evident Stevie was bringing an entirely new dimension – a cool blues-nuanced vibe – to Bowie’s older songs, something revealed in recordings that have surfaced over the years.

But as Shannon recalls, Stevie was out of his element. “He didn’t seem that happy about the music that he was playing with Bowie in the rehearsals,” the bassist explains. “He was really unfamiliar with Bowie’s material, and it wasn’t in his heart musically. Stevie always lived by what was in his heart, first and foremost. I don’t think he listened to anything before the rehearsals started. He just picked it up as they went along, same way as when he did the recording session with Bowie.”

As the rehearsals drew to a close, the question of whether Double Trouble would come along was finally decided by Bowie’s camp. Not only would they not open for Bowie but Stevie was not even allowed to discuss the band’s upcoming debut album in interviews.

For Stevie, this was completely unthinkable. “That really pissed Stevie off, because he didn’t want to leave our band behind,” Shannon says. “There was never any indication why Bowie changed his mind that we knew of. I wonder if it was possible that he was using the notion of us opening as some kind of persuader to make sure Stevie would do the tour. I’m sure he never expected Stevie to pull out at the last minute – to give up all the big touring lifestyle, the top hotels and whatever to go back on the road in our milk truck.”

Whatever the case, that’s exactly what Stevie did. “I really respected Stevie for that,” Shannon says. “He was just so into what we were doing that he just couldn’t leave it.”

According to Layton, the crux of the problem was that Stevie was not able to discuss the matter with Bowie. “I think Stevie had a good relationship with Bowie when they first spoke and when they did the album together,” he says. “But I think it suddenly started to turn into something else on Bowie’s part when the tour came into the picture.

“When Stevie wasn’t able to get a hold of Bowie to address the issue directly, I think he knew that he had to be true to himself. That was one thing about Stevie: He was one hundred percent natural. He couldn’t fake things. Stevie just said, ‘You know what? I’m going to stay with my band.’

“Who knows what would have happened if he’d done the tour,” he continues. “These were the conversations Stevie had with us: how he could do the tour and take care of us; how we could even get paid as a band. I said I couldn’t really see how that was even practical. How could it ever work out, especially if the tour went on for a couple of years, or even longer?

“But at the same time, I didn’t want Stevie to think he had to make us his main concern. Stevie always said that the thing that he wanted in life, when it came to his music, was for us to all have our own band and to play what he loved, and I wondered how that could ever have figured in the idea of going on tour with Bowie. It troubled him that he could even do the tour on that basis, and it troubled me and Tommy, as we wondered how we could even have a band if we were on hold for two or three years.”

Carlos Alomar, Bowie’s guitarist and band leader at the time, has recounted in interviews that he and Stevie discussed the tour’s potential to help promote Double Trouble and Texas Flood. He remembers cautioning Stevie that it was Bowie’s show, and as a band they were all there to play their role in that show; the chance that the tour could make a significant impact on Stevie’s fortunes as a solo artist were probably slim.

Unwittingly, perhaps, Alomar helped firm up Stevie’s resolve to abandon the tour, regardless of its immediate benefits for his career. Although Alomar was unhappy that Stevie left so close to the time they went out on the road, his departure opened the door for Alomar’s long-standing musical partner Earl Slick, a frequent contributor to Bowie’s albums and live show, to come onboard as Stevie’s replacement.

Before Stevie pulled out of the Bowie tour, Epic had been unsure how to make the most of his appearance on it. The label had even debated whether to hold back Texas Flood. Despite this, a couple of New York City showcase events to promote the record were held in early May 1983, and it was clear to those present – including many big names in the industry – that Stevie’s charisma and raw, unbridled access to the deep core of his soul had the ability to transform the face of blues guitar.

He was the ultimate crossover artist, a bluesman who could hold his own with any legend on the rock or blues side of the musical spectrum. Moreover, he commanded the respect from his peers that can only be earned.

With the Bowie matter now moot, it was all systems go. Stevie and Double Trouble threw themselves into the full-on promotion of their blistering new album. Released on June 13, Texas Flood received some surprisingly mixed reviews. Certainly, the climate was much friendlier to the kind of synth-driven, dance-oriented music featured on Bowie’s Let’s Dance than it was to Stevie’s more traditional blues-rock. Yet, against all expectations, Texas Flood started to pick up serious airplay.

Once the record’s two singles, “Love Struck Baby” and “Pride and Joy,” received heavy rotation on MTV, the die was cast. With his lean build and signature bolero hat, Stevie even had the visuals to compete with the style-obsessed bands that were dominating MTV’s scheduling. Together, they helped Texas Flood rack up sales figures that even the most optimistic execs at Epic couldn’t have hoped for.

The record’s huge success came as a surprise to the band. “Well, I know we were all real pleased with it when it was finished,” Layton says. “But of course, when you make a record, you live with it for a long time before the public ever hears it, so it’s not like, ‘Wow, that sounds amazing,’ if you hear it on the radio or something. But it was real satisfying to see that people picked up on that special thing that we had as a band, and Stevie’s genius. It happened so quickly for us though. When it was released and started selling right away, it was like, ‘Boom! Shit’s really happening for us now!’”

Forty years on, Layton still looks with pride upon the group’s achievement with Texas Flood. “The record is what it is,” he says. “I think everyone, to some degree, looks back at things they’ve done with a slightly critical ear, but I think it’s a real good picture of who we were at that time. It’s always too late to do what you could’ve done, and things are always what they are. From our way of living, it was an all-or-nothing kind of thing; our life was about the music and the band. It wasn’t like we had a big strategy, you know? We were a band, we played shows, made a recording and hoped to put a record out and see how things went. Everything that took off was almost a wonderful interruption of the basic way that we saw things going.”

Shannon echoes those sentiments. “We were real happy with it. We all thought it sounded like a great picture of what we sounded like live – it wasn’t a big production. Stevie was real happy with how it turned out. We didn’t really have any expectations that it would be successful – we were just doing our record, y’know? We loved what we were doing, and Stevie loved playing with us so much that we were all real happy with how it turned out. Stevie was real excited when the record came out, but like me and Chris, he had no idea it would become the big success that it did.”

Stevie and Double Trouble’s career trajectory was vertical, with a rocket. He became the hippest name to drop among a rapidly expanding cadre of established legends, with the likes of Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Buddy Guy singing his praises. With the opportunities came the temptations that high-profile success brings, and Stevie developed some serious addiction problems that threatened to derail his career for a couple of years before he finally managed to put his dependency problems behind him.

Whenever an artist is taken before their time, the temptation to wonder what they might have gone on to achieve is irresistible. The fact that the last two albums Stevie worked on, Double Trouble’s In Step and Family Style – recorded with his brother, Jimmie – featured some of his finest playing certainly boded well for his future.

Once upon a time you needed the detective skills of Sherlock Holmes and some seriously deep pockets to track down live recordings and scratchy videos of Stevie and his band plying their wares around the world in 1983. Now all you need is YouTube and the ability to type “Stevie Ray Vaughan 1983” into the search to be rewarded with hours of astounding footage that will enthrall and amaze you.

Unsurprisingly, the surviving members of Double Trouble never expected to be discussing their music 40 years hence when they laid the tracks down. “I don’t even know what to think about that,” Layton says. “I definitely couldn’t have imagined we’d be here this far down the line discussing it.”

There are always the inevitable ’what if?’ thoughts when an artist is taken way too soon. “I’ve probably thought about everything a hundred different ways, a hundred different times,” Layton says. “But I stopped going down that path, because it didn’t really serve any real purpose, you know?”

Shannon believes that, had Stevie lived, their music would have continued to evolve. “I think Stevie wanted to get some horns in the band and we were gonna change the style a little with a horn section in there,” he says.

No doubt, Stevie would have been bemused to learn in 1983 that his music would be pored over and revered by blues fans and scholars alike for decades to come. It likely would have startled him to think future guitar greats would cite him as a primary influence, or to hear that he would be placed on equal standing in music history with the players he himself idolized.

Remarkably, it all began with an album recorded on gifted studio time. But the fact that it had any impact at all is down to the phenomenal talent that was Stevie Ray Vaughan.

Order Texas Flood here.

Performed on Thanksgiving Day, November 25, 1976, at San Francisco's Winterland Ballroom, the Band's "farewell concert appearance" was captured in the Martin Scorsese-directed rockumentary The Last Waltz. 

Released in 1978, the film featured guest spots from Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell and more.

There are many highlights in The Last Waltz, but chief among them for guitar players has to be the sight and sound of Eric Clapton and Robbie Robertson trading solos on "Further On Up the Road," the Texas shuffle first recorded by Bobby "Blue" Bland.

It was a moment that was totally unplanned.

"We had just kicked off the song," said Robertson, "and Eric was playing his opening solo on it. When you look at the movie now you can see his strap is kind of folded over and it looks like it could come off at any time – and it does. It just slips off, so the guitar just falls down, and when that happened – just like you do when you're playing music in a group – you just cover their back. 

"I just jumped in and tried to make so that it wasn't an issue. So then he got his strap back on and came back in and the whole song turned into kind of a guitar dialogue back and forth. People refer to it as a 'duel' but it was more of a guitar conversation with a lot of passion."

It's an unusual piece of pyrotechnics in a sense, because there aren't that many blazing guitar solos in the Band's recorded work. As Robertson explains, that's because he'd already grown out of his 'blazing' phase.

"I started playing professionally on the road for a living when I was 16 years old with Ronnie Hawkins and the Hawks," he says, "and when I was playing with Ronnie, I was blazing. There were guitar solos in almost every song. Because I was 16 and so hot-to-trot, I came out with the pedal-to-the-metal all the time. And after a period of time I started to understand some of the subtleties and cooler ways to approach things than just putting your fist through the ceiling constantly. But I was still blazing. 

"Then, after we left Ronnie Hawkins, we went into a bit of a different musical world at that point, playing a lot in the South and – in the music that we heard and the people that we were around – I started picking up some other aspects of guitar playing. I would see the guitar player for Little Junior Parker's band [possibly Pat Hare – Ed], for instance, and it was a style of playing that, the motion of it and the groove of it, played just as big a part as the solos did. And the rhythmic playing – playing different rhythms against the song and, not blazing fills, cool little fills on the lower strings, and I thought, 'Hmm, that's interesting'.

"And I quite liked Curtis Mayfield's playing, just because it was so damn cool. Never nervous. Never trying too hard. Always understated. And I started to appreciate that and was moving somewhat in that direction, and then we hooked up with Bob Dylan. He was just getting on the train of rock and roll so they talked about it back then of him 'going electric'? I'd never been non-electric! I didn't know folk music. I came in on the rock 'n' roll, blues and rhythm and blues train – so when we started playing with him, the idea of blazing guitar solos in the middle of his songs – he really enjoyed that fire in his music.

"So in his songs, he'd sing a verse or two and then he'd nod at me and I'd play a solo, and he'd sing another verse, nod at me and I'd play another solo. He liked this thing. I was going right back – not to the subtle place, more to the blazing place with him, and if you hear the kind of playing on 'The Albert Hall tapes' with Bob Dylan [later released as The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966] the solos are really flailing or burning. I wanted to lean in this subtle direction, but the intensity of the music and the velocity that he wanted to sing it and play it just kinda pumped me back up to that place again."

You were facing a lot of animosity…

"There was anger involved in this too, you're right. If people were going to boo you, you were going to become somewhat aggressive. It's human nature. So it was my way of fighting back or something. Then after that, when we were doing The Basement Tapes and the Band was preparing to do Music From Big Pink, I got to say, 'okay'. 

"At that point there seemed to me to be an overload of guitar players. When I first played with Ronnie Hawkins and Bob Dylan that style of guitar playing was somewhat rare. By 1967/68 screaming guitars were becoming quite common, and I'm sure that Jimi Hendrix was one of the main reason for people going in that direction. 

"But in this period, there was guitar players coming out of the wood work and everyone was blazing and I felt like I'd already been down that path. When The Band was doing the first record, I really wanted the emphasis to be on the songs, and the way the songs were constructed, the musical parts, the way we played off one another – real subtleties. So I had the opportunity to go in another direction. 

"When our first album came out, Eric Clapton became a tremendous supporter of the Band. I mean, he told everybody about the album – he told the Beatles and the Stones and, at the time said, 'And that's the kind of guitar playing that I'm interested in now' and that was when he left Cream, saying 'I want to go in this other direction too'. 

"I completely understood his feelings: you can only come out screaming for so long and then finally you're just yearning for something a little more tasty and little more sophisticated musically. Because you grow up a little bit and guitar players like Steve Cropper and Curtis Mayfield really mean something to you. They're so understated. They leave out all the bullshit – all the unnecessary stuff is left out.

"So it was going from one extreme to another. I wanted to be able to prove something that wasn't all about the acrobatics."

“When it comes to marriage or relationships, I’m a one-person person,” says Carlos Santana, who married his drummer, Cindy Blackman, after proposing to her onstage at a gig in Illinois. “But when it comes to guitars,” he adds, “I’m definitely not a one-guitar person.”

However, Carlos has been pretty brand-loyal over the course of his almost 50-year career. He was a staunch Gibson man in the years following his eponymous band’s debut at Woodstock. The SG he played at that historic 1969 festival didn’t last very long, but one magical Les Paul served him through Santana’s classic golden period, from 1970 to 1972, when he made Abraxas, Santana III and Caravanserai.

Carlos switched to Yamahas in the mid Seventies, designing his own model in collaboration with the Japanese guitar-making giant. But ever since the early Eighties, he has been one of the foremost advocates of Paul Reed Smith guitars.

He rode a PRS to fame on his phenomenal 1999 comeback album, Supernatural, and on many other outstanding recordings. Smith himself will tell you that Santana can be demanding when it comes to guitars. Much like the renowned guitar maker, Carlos has a great ear and can assess a guitar’s tonal virtues after playing just a few notes or chords on it.

“As soon as I hear it, I can tell if it’s gonna be a lamp or something that can go onstage,” he says, and laughs. “You can tell when a guitar sounds all nasal and weird. All you can do with it is wire it up for a light bulb and put a lampshade on it. That’s all it’s good for. It may look nice, but if it doesn’t have the tone I want, I’m not interested.

“Some people might add a lot of pedals to fix the tone, but that’s not for me. It’s gotta be straight from my fingers to the amplifier. If it don’t sound good like that, you’re not gonna fix it with a mixing board or computers.”

Still, Santana isn’t averse to picking up the occasional Strat or other guitar, as long as the tone is there. Pulling out some of his finest instruments, he just can’t resist plugging a few into an amp and letting rip. 

1968 Gibson Les Paul Custom

This instrument, a refinished maple-top Les Paul, is pretty much the holy grail of Santana guitars. Carlos purchased it at Prune Music in San Francisco in 1970, shortly after his group’s big breakthrough. It was a replacement for the red Gibson SG he played at Woodstock.

“That SG wouldn’t stay in tune, so I destroyed it,” he says. “At the time, if I wanted a new guitar, I had to ask the band, ’cause we were all paying for it. The band didn’t want to get me a new guitar, so I destroyed the SG. Then I had to get a new one. This guitar was my main workhorse for at least seven albums. It’s got the tone, the feel. You grab it and it’s ready to go.”

This is the guitar that generated the fiery leads on “Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen,” “Oye Como Va,” and, indeed, just about everything else on the classic Abraxas album from 1970, as well as the inspired discs that followed in its wake.

PRS Santana Model Prototype

Master guitar builder Paul Reed Smith began showing Santana his guitars in 1976, just as Smith was launching his business. The instrument that hooked Santana was the legendary Paul Reed Smith Golden Eagle, the first maple-top guitar Smith ever built, owned by Heart’s Howard Leese.

Carlos borrowed the guitar to play the leads on his 1981 Zebop! album and fell in love with the instrument.

“It had a very rich, low, masculine tone,” he recalls. It was like, ‘Ooh, I’ve been playing a soprano, and this is a tenor.’”

Santana commissioned Smith to start building guitars for him. The guitars that Smith custom-built for Santana in the Eighties would eventually become the basis for the PRS Santana II model. The one guitar that particularly pleased Carlos was the model seen here, known in the Santana camp simply as Number Two.

PRS Santana II “Supernatural”

“This guitar really is supernatural. I played most of the Supernatural songs on it. There is the Woodstock guitar and there is the Supernatural guitar. Those are huge doors to walk through.”

Of the many guitars that Paul Reed Smith has made for Carlos, this one holds a very special place in the guitarist’s collection. It arrived just as Carlos was beginning work on Supernatural, which would usher in an exciting new phase of his career.

Carlos has often spoken of being divinely guided in creating Supernatural, and the guitar’s appearance seems providential.

Carlos calls it his Red Coral guitar. He knew there was something unique about it as soon as he picked it up. “It was the tonality, the weight of it, and the feel of it,” he says. “And the color: a beautiful orangey, salmon red. A lot of times, the color of a guitar changes the mood for me. And what can you do without the right mood?

1952/1953 Gibson Les Paul

Another historic Les Paul in Santana’s collection is this instrument that belonged to the late blues master Mike Bloomfield. “He was one of my first heroes,” Carlos says. “Before I heard Eric Clapton or Jimi Hendrix, I heard Bloomfield and Elvin Bishop in the Butterfield Blues Band in 1965. So I treasure this guitar.”

It was Bloomfield who gave Carlos his first shot at notoriety, inviting him onstage to jam at the Fillmore West. The event led to Santana’s discovery by Fillmore owner and entrepreneur Bill Graham.

Also notable is the fact that this Les Paul was originally a gold top and was subsequently refinished with a flame top. In addition to the refinish job, the original trapeze tailpiece has been replaced with a Tune-o-matic, and humbuckers have taken the place of the original P-90s.

1963 Fender Stratocaster

Carlos picked up this Strat at a Guitar Center sale several years ago. He recalls, “They told me, ‘Some guy in Ukiah [California] had this under his bed for years.’” He bought the guitar on the spot and used it to play his interpretation of “Little Wing” on Guitar Heaven.

Carlos has fond memories of a recent gig at which he played this Strat through Stevie Ray Vaughan’s legendary Dumble Steel String Singer amp.

“When I got this guitar, I had the same dream over and over, where Stevie Ray came to me,” he says. “In the dream, Stevie Ray said, ‘Listen, Carlos, you know where I am, man. I’m not in the body anymore. And where I am, I have no fingers. I’m just pure light. But I miss the sound and feel of my guitar. Please call my brother Jimmie and ask him to lend you my Steel String Singer. I need to feel your fingers through this amplifier.’

“A few nights later, I had the dream again. So I called Jimmie Vaughan and asked to borrow the amp, and he was like, ‘Hell no!’ But then René Martinez, who was Stevie Ray’s guitar tech, had the same dream too. He called Jimmie and told him. Next thing I knew, the amp arrived.

“The amp and the Strat came in time for a gig at Madison Square Garden. I plugged the guitar into the amp at soundcheck, and it was like...whoosssh! I said, ‘I wanna play the whole concert with this!’”

‘Awesome’ is an everyday word. But to see someone struck with genuine awe by something out of the ordinary is different.

That’s exactly what happens in this video clip when Jeff Beck gives TV host Malcolm Gerrie a taster of what the Fender Stratocaster is capable of doing in the right hands.

Up close and personal, Beck unleashes a sequence of mind-blowing techniques while demonstrating the Strat’s expansive tonal range – from mellow jazz to searing leads – before launching into a rendition of Jimi Hendrix’s “Little Wing”.

The Sky Arts presenter is left dumbfounded.

Rather than just being a display of guitar gymnastics, Beck’s matchless style is equalled by an impassioned delivery that appears to leave the entire studio audience in a state of reverence and wonder. Indeed, ‘awesome’ is the word.

Beck himself was similarly humbled by the outrageous talent of fellow Strat-wielding guitarist Hendrix. Recalling Hendrix's pioneering days of the late '60s, Beck told Guitar Player, "He swept us all aside and put us in a bin. I think that was more the case for us than for the public at large, who were happy to have us all. But I know how it felt having a girl ring up and ask, “Did you hear Jimi Hendrix?”

Despite feeling somewhat challenged by the extraordinary musicianship of Hendrix, Beck felt a certain warmth for him and attempted to befriend the guitarist. Unfortunately, however, whatever friendship they struck up was cut brutally short due to Hendrix's untimely death at the age of 27 in September 1970.

"I wanted to be friends with Jimi on a less flippant level, which was difficult to do," recalled Beck. "We had the perfect opportunity while driving to a jam in upstate New York.

“The real Jimi was coming out as he was driving, and I thought, This is probably the greatest moment of my life. And then – lo and behold – just as I had become friends with him, the guy went and died.”

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.

Little nine-year-old Rick Zehringer, with wide lapels, slicked-back hair, and a bow tie, staring out of some mirror of the past facing his own future, would have been hard put to recognize the form he’s taken today as Rick Derringer – rock guitarist, songwriter, and producer for himself as well as for such luminaries as Johnny and Edgar Winter, the Osmond Brothers, Richie Havens, Steely Dan, Todd Rundgren, and even Alice Cooper. Squinting wouldn’t help young Zehringer recognize his new form. Little in his life is the same.

His audiences, for example. Rick, at nine, was strumming country-western ditties for the dozing town fathers of Fort Recovery, Ohio at their Kiwanis and Rotary Club luncheons. Today, nearly two decades later (he’s pushing 28 now), Derringer’s electrifying the whole world’s sons and daughters that storm the stages of rock and roll halls everywhere he goes.

Instruments, too, have come and gone. He’s owned everything from a three-pickup white Supro (“Now, that was a hot looking guitar!”) to a rare Explorer, which is the visual counterpart of the custom instrument he now uses on stage.

Today Derringer can hardly recall the titles from his parents’ large record collection, which he describes as “a lot of country-western records, just a lot of Fifties kind of music, not too much rock,” though the name Spike Jones sticks in his head. “Find all those old records,” he says, “and re-release them, and he’d probably be bigger than Frank Zappa. He’s funnier, more innocent.”

His influences have changed, as well. His first was an uncle in Michigan who played in bars - “a real vague kind of music, more in a real musical way than people learn how to play nowadays.” Rick’s musical drive was encouraged by his parents, who were willing to take him into bars to listen to the local guitarists. Today, though his primary interest is rock and roll, he tries to catch as many different kinds of acts as possible, including jazz, when it’s possible for him to track down such performers.

Perhaps this avidness is Rick’s most noticeably consistent quality. He’s always learned from everyone he could. “Every time I’d meet a guitar player,” he recalls, “I’d get him to show me something.” He took lessons from piano teachers, learned to read music (“not fantastically, but enough to get by”), and began buying records, more Top 40 than rhythm and blues (that came in later), since Top 40 was all that was on the radio. “And that, in the Midwest,” Derringer explains, “was a real mixture of Jerry Lee Lewis and ‘Pink Shoe Laces’ – it was all real commercial.”

When he was fifteen, he moved to Union City, Indiana, and expanded his musical skills by learning snare drums, tympani, and bass, while he was playing rhythm guitar in the high school swing band, which performed all the old, big band standards. During this time, the McCoys was formed, a trio that went through numerous changes of its own, alternately known as the McCoys, the Rick Z. Combo, Rick and the Raiders, and back again to the McCoys. One song, “Hang On Sloopy,” catapulted the group to fame (within a month after release, it was number one in almost every country in the world).

An up-and-down career kept the McCoys visible but a bit seasick, until Steve Paul made them house band for his club (the Scene), and the back-up band for Johnny Winter. To avoid further mispronunciation, misspelling, and misplacement, Zehringer changed his professional name to Derringer on the Johnny Winter And album. It’s stuck throughout his subsequent work with Edgar Winter, and is the name that appears on his own solo albums, the latest of which is Spring Fever (Blue Sky, PZ 33423).

What were your first guitars?

When I was about five years old I got a Stella acoustic guitar as a kind of a toy. I didn’t know that you could make music with it because I wasn’t really interested in it too much. My brother and I used to play with it a lot and paint our names on it, like country-western guys did. I must have been about eight when we finally culminated our whole experience with it by just crushing it and stomping on it, and breaking it into shreds. [laughs]

Right after that I realized that my uncle was a guitarist, and I got interested in playing the guitar myself. Then, for my ninth birthday, I got what I really consider my first guitar – a Harmony-ish kind of guitar. It didn’t really have a brand name on it, but it was an electric, one pickup, gold-painted guitar. [laughs]

And at the same time, I got a sleazy Gibson amp – I think it had one 12” speaker in it, an alligator kind of top, dark brown, and a tan bottom that had what’s called “aircraft covering.” Pretty good amp; I liked it. But it was great, because most parents, especially at that time before guitars were fads, for sure wouldn’t go out and get a brand-new electric guitar and electric amp.

I went through a lot of guitars. After I got that guitar, I learned everything I could about it. From then on, I was always trying to get a better guitar. I’ve always been a collector; zillions of guitars.

How is it that you got so turned-on to the guitar at age nine?

I’ve tried to figure that out a million times, but I can’t. All I know is one day I said, “Boy, what I want to do is play the guitar,” and my parents got it, and it was like total “into-it-ness.” Just instantaneous. That’s all I did.

Where did you get those first licks, off records?

Not at all. When I first started, I didn’t know you were supposed to learn specific licks. I didn’t know anything about that kind of stuff. I was just into learning how to play the guitar. It wasn’t a fad thing at all. In fact, it was very seldom heard as a solo instrument when I was nine. Electric guitars were just starting to become more of an “in” thing in rock and roll.

On the same day I got the guitar, my dad found out that a mechanic named Gene Fiely at Ford Garage in Fort Recovery, Ohio, where I lived at that time, played guitar. Gene was just exactly the way you’d picture a mechanic to be: Great, big, almost seven foot tall – great big huge guy with pock marks all over his face, but just the kindest, most gentle, jolly kind of great mechanic all the time. Dirt all over everywhere, in work clothes.

I went down to Gene Fiely's house and said, “I just got this guitar, and I know you don’t know me, but could you show me something on it?” So he showed me a big open G chord, and a D chord, showed me some ways to use them, some country song or something. I went home and played those chords, probably a thousand times at least that night, and went right back the next day to try to learn more. That’s basically how I got started, just learning chords.

Were there any musicians in your family?

I learned a lot from my uncle. But his style of playing was more of an old-fashioned chord style. He showed me whole songs, like “Liebestraum,” “Bye Bye Blues,” “Caravan,” and “Steel Guitar Rag.” But all those songs were never one-note things, like the vogue today. They were always chord songs, and so when I learned, I was always, for years and years, a kind of chord guitar player.

Once in a while a guitarist has to play a solo, but soloing was not why I got involved. It was to be a part of music. And that meant playing rhythm and chords, and I really considered myself – till now even – a rhythm guitar player.

What’s your studio and stage setup?

On stage, I use an Ampeg SVT amp with two four-twelve bottoms and Altec speakers.

Where do you set the tone and volume?

Volume about two o’clock. Tone: The treble with ultra-high on at about three-thirty, mid-range control in the middle position at twelve-thirty, and the bass control in the flat position at three o’clock. That won’t work for all guitars, because my guitar is a little brighter and a little louder than most.

What guitars are you using?

The ones I’m using on stage are made by Charlie LoBue at Guitar Lab [206 Thompson St., New York, NY].

I didn’t want to take the chance of getting my real Explorer stolen, so I asked Charlie to make one that was similar, hopefully even a little better. So an Explorer copy it’s not. An Explorer body style is what it is. It’s got 22 frets joining the body at the 19th, and Gibson Schaller machine heads. In other words, styled after Schallers, but Gibson made them.

And it uses humbucking pickups, which are like the Explorer’s, but these are old ones. In this case, they’re rewound with a little better gauge copper wire and supposedly a little better magnet. And then all twelve poles are bored out, and screws are inserted so that they can be raised as high to the strings as possible. That creates a real loud, good-sounding guitar.

It’s also got some binding where Explorers didn’t, and it’s made out of birch, which is a real hard, heavy wood, so it had to be a little smaller than the Explorer in thickness, but it’s got a little more treble.

This guitar’s also different because it has a Schaller bridge, which offers more travel for adjusting the intonation. I believe in keeping that intonation adjusted. I adjust it every time I change the strings, or at least I check it.

The controls happen real quick on this instrument, and it has more treble than any other Gibson I ever had. But at the same time you get more bass and more output from the hole right here [points at output plug]: A loud guitar, in other words.

Where do you put the guitar’s controls?

I have a certain place I start, but I only use this as a starting reference, so it doesn’t really pay to say what those numbers are. But usually I start out with full treble – the guitar I use on stage only has one tone control – and the two volume controls both on.

How do you record the guitar?

Usually an amp is the only way to go. Very rarely, I put it through the board for some special sound. I have a definite feeling about that. It doesn’t sound good to me through the board, unless it’s an acoustic instrument which sounds great through a mike only.

Do you write music out with chord symbols and music paper?

No, I have it easy. I just write down the words, and I remember everything else.

Is it difficult for you to relate to the acoustic guitar?

I don’t feel that learning how to play electric limits you from knowing how to play an acoustic guitar. To me, it’s a joke. There’s no comparison. I’ve always played guitar, the same guitar as an acoustic guitar; electric requires all the same skill, maybe more.

What method do you use to tune?

I use those electric tuners to get close, and then I tune with my ear, using various methods: Chords, harmonics, the old [plays E, A, D, G, B, E] guitar book method, just anything I can do to make sure it’s in tune. It’s all real important.

The guitar’s a strange instrument in that the height of the nut makes it play out of tune at the first fret, but if the intonation is adjusted exactly properly on the G string, for instance, it will play sharp at the A note. Almost nothing you can do about it. So, in order to make it play as in tune as possible all over the place, I found that I have to compensate a little bit make the G string just a little flatter intonation-wise than is perfect so the A won’t be too far sharp, and so that my D won’t be too flat – and that’s just the G string! [laughs]

To me it’s real important to be able to play in tune all over the instrument, and intonation plays a large part in that, the height of the strings and of the nut has something to do with it – all those things are real important. Because I like to have a guitar feel exactly the same all the way up, I have the nut maybe a touch higher than some people would. The action’s set up so that everything can sit on the body, and you’ll be in business.

That also helps these pickups do their job. It’s loud; this particular guitar [his stage guitar] is more of an “in-person” guitar just because it’s designed to get the most out of personal appearances.

What sort of strings are you using?

Ernie Ball Super Slinkies with an unwound third.

Any fret work done?

Yeah, I like big frets better than the little ones because they allow me to hold onto the strings if you bend them. On Fretless Wonder-style guitars, you can slide up and down the guitar, and play real fast, and all that fantastic stuff, but if you go to bend a string it’s a simple law: If you press on a thin string with a finger and nothing to bridge that string between, when it gets to where it pulls, it’s going to slide right out from under your finger.

So, if you give two poles – which is what the frets are – a little more height, that offers somewhere for the string to go in your finger – pushes the string into your finger and enables you to hold onto it, so that you can stretch it real far and real easy. It never slides out from under your fingers.

How often do you change your strings?

About every three shows, on the road. In the studio a string will last longer.

Do you ever use anything else on stage?

I have a real Explorer, and that’s a nice sounding guitar, and I have a Les Paul that I like a lot. It’s about a ’58 Sunburst, with all white humbuckers. Pretty one, not modified in any way. It’s got big frets on it. I’ve got these frets on everything.

I have a Gibson 355. It’s about a ’58, or ’59. Big frets come on those guitars naturally. [laughs] I have another guitar by Charlie LoBue that’s a Honduras mahogany version with no binding. It sounds a little more like a Les Paul, and it might be a little more ideally suited to the studio, even though it’s not quite as good as the other for the stage.

I have a Strat that I use in the studio, usually for a specific kind of Stratocaster-sounding thing.

Do you practice systematically?

Yeah, all kinds of stuff: Chromatic scales, a regular major scale, a whole-tone fifth scale, and just stuff to keep my fingers moving and loose, so they don’t freeze up on me.

Of course, a lot of times I learn solos note-for-note from records, and because of that I learn plenty of licks. I just try to use everything that I’ve heard, to come up with music that fits whatever I’m playing.

Do you ever work for an improvisational feel during performance?

A lot. But I feel that people would like to hear some solos like they hear them on the radio, so I just play the solos from hits exactly like they were, though I do try to play them as good as they can be played every night. Other than those few songs, when it comes to a solo, that is an improvisational section.

Where do you get your licks?

Probably it started out from chords – knowing a combination of those structures and patterns, then growing into scales, and then into a more correct knowledge of musical theory. I try all the time to go toward being totally fluent.

In other words, some people can create exactly what comes into their minds instantaneously with their voice. In my mind, the ideal point to get to on the guitar is where you don’t have to think about scales, keys, notes, harmonic structures, none of that stuff. You can just play music fluently. It’s a hard place to come to, but that’s what I’m trying to do.

Did you ever sit down and actually study theory?

Not too much. It always seemed like too much work for me. My teachers were usually piano teachers, and they really didn’t know much.

Did you listen to anyone in particular to learn?

Everyone in particular. Always, always. Every time I listen to a guitar, I’m in there listening for something that I’ll want to remember and play myself, or I’m listening for something that I’ll want to forget and stop playing.

What about your pick?

Right now I’m using these heavy, triangular-shaped ones made by Pastore [507 32nd St., Union City, NJ 07087]. On stage, for that extra rock and roll flair, I keep “zizzing” my strings with my pick [moves pick up neck from tailpiece towards nut]; and since the strings are rough, every time you ziz one real hard you grind down that pick, and the next time you start to play, it will actually catch and hold onto the string. So I just toss them out into the audience.

I have this piece of tape going clear across the top of my amp with these picks all lined up. [laughs] So it’s real slick: I can just toss one out there, reach over, and grab another one instantaneously.

How many do you use a night?

Ten or fifteen sometimes. At home or in the studio, unless I want to add one of those rock and roll zings – I don’t use as many. I can use one for a long time, as a matter of fact. At home and in the studio, I have favorite picks without the ziz marks in them, though they’ve been carefully crunched up by my teeth, [laughs] so that they have a rough edge that has been acquired over a long period of time, but that will not catch the string, and that also enables me to hold onto them a little better. They’re so carefully roughed, that sometimes if you use the wrong end, they give a real nice rough sound.

How do you hold your pick?

Thumb and first finger. The way they show you in the books. If I’m not on stage, I keep my hand on the bridge, so I can mute when I want real good control. On stage, when I want to be more of a showman than a guitarist, and I’m doing those Pete Townshend arm flails, my arm doesn’t actually rest on anything as much. But there is something to be gained by that, too. You can go faster.

Are you alternating your picking up and down?

Yeah, but not always anything. Not ever any kind of absolute. Always just whatever gets the sound that I’m particularly wanting to get at that time. And the sounds I want vary. Pick up on a string, it gives you a sound. You pick down, it gives you a sound. Play high, it’s a sound; play near the bridge, it’s another sound. There are a zillion different things. You can add all three fingers plus the pick. Really, “anything goes” is the way I play.

What about your left hand?

I use all four fingers – thumb, when it’s necessary, because lots of chords involve the thumb. I read a lot of times that you’re not supposed to use your thumb, but I feel that anything goes. Use your fingers for anything you need at all times.

I started out barely using my little finger at all, but eventually I got to the point where I had to start using my little finger more because I could play better using it.

You play slide?

Yeah, I play in standard open E tuning just like an open E chord. I use a metal bar on my little finger so I can play with my other fingers. I used to get them made at a plumbing shop because that was a heavier bar, and I could get exactly the size I wanted for my finger and have it polished down real nice. But they either always get lost or stolen, so right now I’m just using a bar like you get in a music store. Since they’re a little big for my finger, I put masking tape in the inside, so that it’s actually kind of form-fitted inside and allows my finger to bend a little.

Johnny [Winter] showed me a lot. To me, he’s one of the best exponents of the slide guitar. I played it a lot in the McCoys when we were travelling. One time, in fact, Johnny and I were with Duane Allman. I didn’t feel much a part of it. I felt, “Here I am, a young kid playing with these guys that have been into country blues all their lives,” but I was having fun playing along.

At one point Duane said, “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I came down when you were at the Image in Miami, and you were playing slide guitar on some song. I just wanted to tell you that you were the person at that time that made me think, ‘Wow, it’s amazing; that slide can make some real good rockin’ music.”

I thought this guy’d been interested in it all his life. But he said that I was one of the people who made him become more involved in slide guitar. I only used it on one lousy song, and here Duane is telling me all this, and he becomes real famous for slide guitar. It was great; I loved it.

How do you get your vibrato?

Where I was from and the music I played, people didn’t know much about bending strings. I hadn’t heard anything about Django Reinhardt records where he was bending them, so I just didn’t know anything about it, never learned about it. But eventually I learned, and realized that you could also do vibrato.

It was really hard for me to develop vibrato, because I’d never done it. Kids nowadays, that’s all they’ve heard. They pick up the guitar, and say, “I can’t play it, but I can try that vibrato,” so they know it from the beginning.

For a while, my vibrato was too fast. It’s hard to slow it down. I do it all different, never with the little finger. Always one of the first three. I bend down only if I’m playing one of the low strings, where I would run out of neck if I bent up.

What sort of pedals and devices do you use?

On stage, I use a Vox wah-wah and MXR Phaser. That’s it. In the studio, anything that I can find, and everything that I like. I go up to Manny’s [I56 W. 48th St., New York, NY I 0036] and find all the new gadgets and gimmicks for guitar. I try to discover one that sounds cool that maybe people haven’t heard much.

I like to try out all those things: Doublers, phasers, Leslie simulators, Tone Benders, and octave devices, and all those things with synthesizers. I have a Mu-Tron at home, speakers in bags. The one I have right now is the one that’s advertised as the [Heil] Joe Walsh talk box. I’ve used that on some of my records. As a matter of fact, I’ve used Joe Walsh’s. He loaned me his. It’s homemade, not one of those manufactured ones.

What other instruments are you playing?

I really enjoy playing bass. I see it as a totally separate instrument. I really like to keep it from sounding like a guitar as much as possible. To me, that’s the challenge: Playing it like a bass rather than a guitar. And it’s fun to do.

Do you ever just step on a pedal to beef up a solo?

I try not to, ever. I try not to feel like I’m playing less than inspired, though to me it’s kind of an ideology that you can never really truly play inspired, because a musician is a human being playing something that comes from somewhere.

But inspiration is the idea we like to work towards, so I’m always trying to play at my utmost and as inspired as possible. That’s the whole challenge in being a guitar player. Every time I play on stage or on records or just fooling around, I’m trying to play and learn and do it well, be happy about it, have fun doing it, and not ever feel bored or like it’s a job, or staid, or any of those kind of words.

Do you think you’ll be playing guitar thirty years from now?

My personal goal is just to make the next thirty years, or the next fifty or ninety years, and to make them as long and as happy as possible along the way. I like to play the guitar. I’d like to continue doing that as long as I can.

I admire people like Picasso especially, because he’s a man who was really doing something he liked all his life, and even though he must have had hard times like everybody, he stayed very active, stayed very free and happy and with a youthful spirit, enjoying life as much as possible till the day he died.

And that’s the kind of person I’d like to be. I’d play the guitar; I’d like to keep learning and working at it and doing as well as I can forever, with the same kind of youthful spirit about it and energy and enthusiasm that I had the day I got my first instrument.

Was there an abrupt change in your musical growth after “Hang On Sloopy,” when you started touring?

No, in fact I think touring is one of the ways you actually get better at playing the guitar – at least with me. Before “Hang On Sloopy,” there was always the temptation to play music that didn’t really develop me or my dexterity as a musician.

At home, I have a tendency to play real simple music or just music that I like that I may have played before many times, not necessarily trying to get a lot better or improve my dexterity. But on the road, it’s a different kind of thing. You’re on stage trying to impress people as well as play good music.

Every time I go out on the road, I feel that my dexterity improves a lot, and as a result my way of thinking about music is improved, because whatever comes into my head as a human being I feel other humans would like. It’s much easier for me to get that out and get to those other human beings because my dexterity has improved.

I look at playing on the road as real good practice. Even though I might only pick up the guitar a couple of times a day for ten minutes each time, that night I’m going to have to go out for an hour and a half and play real good.

My whole way of playing on stage is trying to play better than I did the night before. If you’ve done a song enough times so that you don’t have to worry about remembering it, a framework is established, and you can just use that song as a vehicle to create, because you’re playing something you know so well that you have the time to consider new things to do with it.

Do you have advice for guitarists just starting out?

If you want to play guitar, it isn’t something that comes overnight. We’ve been talking about nineteen years of a whole lot of different stuff, and I’m still trying to get better and explore new regions that I hadn’t even thought about. It’s not something where you just pick up a guitar and think, “Well, I’ll just learn six solos, and I’ll know six songs.” You can do that, but that doesn’t necessarily make you a guitarist. It makes you a guy that can play six solos. But if you want to be a guitarist, it takes a long time and a lot of work.

One might establish the first “session” toward the making of The Dark Side of the Moon as the band meeting at Nick’s place, at which Roger’s idea of a continuous conceptual piece about things that “make people mad” was first sketched out. This was followed by Roger hiding away in his garden shed studio out back of his Islington home and creating a few demos of the material they had collectively begun writing. Next came working on the material through 12 days of rehearsals at Decca Studios in West London, followed by the live-show rehearsals at the Rolling Stones’ 47 Bermondsey Street warehouse and then, innovatively, the touring of the “Eclipse” suite.

Inextricably linked with EMI, Abbey Road Studios had at times been state of the art and sometimes not. Pink Floyd had recorded there regularly over the years (although not exclusively), with the most significant recent visits being for 1970’s Atom Heart Mother and portions of 1971’s Meddle. Significantly, the band felt they had to move on from Abbey Road to finish “Echoes” (comprising all of side two of Meddle) because, at the time, it was limited to eight-track recording. Nearby, both AIR and Morgan had 16-track facilities, which Abbey Road acquired in time for Dark Side.

For a mixing board, Abbey Road now had an EMI TG12345, its first solid-state, replacing the REDD .51, which was vacuum-tube based. The new console featured 24 microphone inputs and eight tape outputs, which came in handy, given the complexity of the sound effects the guys wanted on the album. Alan Parsons, engineer on the project, is emphatic, however, that the making of the record was essentially a 16-track production (“24 channels into 16 groups”), with many of the tracks being second generation because the band had run out of tracking room and had to consolidate and bounce first-generation tracks (the “Money” loop alone took up four tracks). The mix was conducted off the second-generation recordings, i.e. second-generation basic/backing tracks plus overdubs.

As Parsons told me, “Being an engineer for Pink Floyd was arguably the biggest challenge I ever gave myself. They’re so sound oriented; they used the studio to the absolute maximum. So it was a big challenge as an engineer. But I think I learned a bit, and I think they learned from me as well. It was a really good team effort overall.”

Asked about his Abbey Road employers George Martin and Geoff Emerick, Parsons says, “They were both mentors to me. George, I consider that probably, to a certain extent, I modeled myself on him because he commanded enormous respect from every artist he worked with and he respected them, and so that’s why he was the perfect inspiration.”

Of course, Abbey Road had essentially served as headquarters for the Beatles. Floyd would return there for work on Wish You Were Here and portions of The Final Cut and The Division Bell. The two Syd Barrett albums – 1967’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn and 1968’s A Saucerful of Secrets – were cobbled together there, and Roger as a solo artist would use the facility as well.

Work on The Dark Side of the Moon began at Studio 3 on June 1, 1972, after the band had returned from dates in West Germany and the Netherlands, the culmination of about 40 shows playing the whole album live. Typically the band worked from 2:30 in the afternoon until midnight. The first song worked on was “Us and Them,” with the band sticking with Studio 3 for three days. Parsons had worked with the Beatles by this point but had also served as assistant tape operator on Atom Heart Mother, so he knew the guys well.

Work then shifted to Studio 2, from June 6 to 10, where the basic tracks for “Money” were recorded on June 7 and “Time” the following day (Gilmour’s use of a Kepex processor for tremolo can be heard on “Money”). [Made by Allison Research, the Kepex was a compressor/expander that could be triggered by an external source. Gilmour reportedly used a sine wave from the band’s EMS Synthi AKS synthesizer to trigger the Kepex and create an amplitude-modulated effect.] Roger had originally captured the sound effects for “Money” by recording on a Revox A77 the sounds of coins and other items tossed into a mixing bowl in his wife’s pottery studio and then splicing tape the old-fashioned way, working with the song’s 7/8 time signature. But this got re-recorded in the studio, given the possibility of improving it for the planned quadraphonic mix. One can hear a cash register (from a sound library record), an adding machine (Alan’s contribution) and paper tearing. Nick recalls drilling holes in old pennies and threading them onto strings to help create the innovative sonic symphony.

After two days off, it was back to work again at the same locale, June 13 to 17, followed by a move back to Studio 3, June 20 through 25, where the basic tracks were recorded for “The Great Gig in the Sky” on the final day.

Besides the new mixing board, also crucial to the process was the cutting-edge EMS Synthi AKS synthesizer, which allowed the band to create loops of sequenced notes, most famously for “On the Run,” where Gilmour and Waters collaborated on the effect. This was also used for the solo on “Any Colour You Like.”

As for Waters’ and Gilmour’s individual tools of the trade, Roger’s weapon of choice was the Fender Precision bass he’d been using since 1970, modified at this point with a maple neck by Charvel and Kluson tuning machines. David used his black 1969 Fender Stratocaster, which he later modified many times, soon with an additional switch that allowed him to manipulate the pickups to evoke the sound of a Fender Jazzmaster, and then with a Gibson PAF humbucker in time for the shows with Roland Petit’s Ballets de Marseille in early 1973. Also, notably on “Money” (and probably “Brain Damage,” “Us and Them,” and “Eclipse”), Gilmour played a 1970 mahogany-body custom Bill Lewis guitar with 24 frets. On “Money” this was used specifically to get the high notes in the third part of his solo. On “Breathe” and “Great Gig in the Sky” you can hear a Fender 1000 twin-neck pedal steel.

For effects, Gilmour used a Dallas Arbiter Fuzz Face (BC108), a Colorsound Power Boost, a Univox Uni-Vibe, a Binson Echorec 2 and PE 603, the aforementioned Kepex processor, and the EMS Synthi Hi-Fli guitar effects processor, which was a prototype version Gilmour bought from the manufacturer in 1972 at great expense. But effects were minimal, given there was nothing digital out at the time. Parsons indicates that most of his sounds were coming right out of the cabinets, augmented perhaps with a plate reverb or tape delay.

In the amp department, Gilmour used Hiwatt DR103 Custom 100-watt heads, a Fender Twin Reverb silverface 2x12 combo, a Maestro Rover rotary speaker, a Leslie rotary speaker cabinet (plus effects simulating Leslies), and WEM Super Starfinder 200 cabinets, which Parsons mic’d with Neumann U87s or U86s placed a foot in front of the cabinets. The classic Leslie rotary speaker effect can be heard on “Breathe.”

Concerning the legendary cacophony of alarm clocks on “Time,” that was something that Parsons had previously put together for a quadraphonic test record for EMI, recording each clock separately in an antiques shop in Hampstead. Quad was being touted at the time as the next evolution beyond stereo, and Parsons and Pink Floyd were ready participants – Atom Heart Mother, Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here would all come out on quad. Parsons took a portable tape machine to the shop and had to have the proprietor stop all the clocks so Parsons could capture them one at a time. Also on the effects front, explained Alan, “the footsteps on the intro to ‘On the Run,’ that was me and my assistant engineer, Pete James, pacing the floor at Number Two studio at Abbey Road.”

After some time off (but also more shows), there were further Dark Side sessions on October 10 through 12 and 17, 1972, followed by a show at Wembley Empire Pool on October 21. Work resumed October 25 to 27, but then the band was sent back on the road in mainland Europe in November. Work would often be interrupted to watch Monty Python’s Flying Circus, or to allow Roger to cheer on his beloved Arsenal FC. Parsons has said that he’d stay behind and keep working during the breaks for Monty Python, recalling that this is when he’d get some of his best ideas down on tape.

Rehearsals in advance of the final recording sessions took place January 9, 1973, with the band recording sporadically over two weeks beginning January 18 in Studio 2 before moving permanently to Studio 3. At this point the band recorded “Brain Damage,” “Eclipse,” “Any Colour You Like,” and “On the Run,” plus overdubs needed for the basic tracks from earlier sessions. Mason recalls that “Any Colour You Like” was a two-chord jam cooked up on the spot to fill space, with the highlight being Gilmour’s guitar solo. Dick Parry’s sax parts were recorded for “Money” and “Us and Them” (using a 1969 Henri Selmer tenor sax) plus four female backing vocalists – Doris Troy, Lesley Duncan, Liza Strike, and Barry St. John – were brought in to sing on “Brain Damage,” “Eclipse” and “Time.” Their voices were fed through a pitch shifter to achieve a sweeping effect. Of note, also on the vocal front, Parsons double-tracked most of the lead vocals, adding effects like reverb and delay.

Clare Torry’s vocals for “The Great Gig in the Sky” were recorded on January 21, with the sessions wrapping up February 1. Noted Parsons, “I suggested calling up Clare Torry to sing ‘Great Gig in the Sky’– they were unacquainted with her. There were a few specific instances like that where I injected some ideas.”

Torry did three or four takes, with Parsons indicating that the final performance was a composite. Torry remembers fondly the excellent mix Parsons got between her voice and the music in her headphones and greatly enjoyed closing her eyes and belting it out. Torry also recalls that the guys (other than Dave) looked completely bored during the process and she was ushered out quickly after she was done, feeling that she probably was not going to make the record.

At the end of the process, producer Chris Thomas was brought in to check out the final mixes. He recalls picking up the task at midnight and then driving over to AIR to work until 5 a.m. on Grand Hotel, his third of what would be four records in a row for Procol Harum.

Although he doesn’t admit to any disputes, apparently there was vehement disagreement about the final mix, with Roger and Nick wanting a drier sound emphasizing the sound effects and David and Rick wanting more echo, emphasizing the songs and melodies. Thomas was called in as mediator; both David and Rick would hover over him at different times, willing the faders to move their way, to the point where both ended up in the control room with him (Gilmour says he got his way). Parsons wasn’t happy with Thomas’s propensity to “limit” the drums, and later regretted that the drum sound could have been better.

Notably, Thomas was also at the Clare Torry session on “The Great Gig in the Sky,” and proved instrumental in synchronizing the echo on “Us and Them.” Parsons recalled that Chris had rode him hard to locate the “magic” rough mixes for the Rototoms used at the beginning of “Time,” but they were unsuccessful in their search. In the final analysis however, after three weeks of work, all parties were more than pleased with The Dark Side of the Moon. All that was left was to tour a record that actually existed.

Excerpted from Pink Floyd and The Dark Side of the Moon: 50 Years, by Martin Popoff (Motorbooks, 2023, $50). Copyright 2023 Quarto Publishing Group USA Inc. Used by permission.

Two landmark guitar releases, both solo debuts, came along within a few months of each other in 1968 to open my youthful ears and blow my 14-year-old mind. And yet, one so completely overshadowed the other as to render it to relative obscurity. I’m referring to the near-simultaneous releases of Jeff Beck’s Truth, which came out on July 29 of that year, and Harvey Mandel’s Cristo Redentor, issued that November.

Beck, of course, was already famous, having succeeded Eric Clapton in the wildly popular Yardbirds in 1965 and appeared with the band the following year in Michelangelo Antonioni’s film Blow-Up. He also had major-label backing for his solo debut, courtesy of Epic Records. Mandel had already put in his time on Chicago’s active blues scene, making his recording debut in 1966 on Barry Goldberg’s Blowing My Mind and appearing on 1967’s Stand Back! Here Comes Charley Musselwhite’s Southside Band, a seminal recording that, along with the Paul Butterfield Blues Band’s East-West released that same year, bridged the gap between blues and rock and roll.

Harvey’s solo debut on the smaller Dutch-American Philips Records – the same label that had released albums by Edith Piaf, Jacques Brel and the Singing Nun – simply did not have the visibility or promotional muscle to compete against a major-label juggernaut like Epic.

While both albums were life-altering experiences for listeners back then, and they continue to stagger to this day, Mandel’s instrumental solo debut was an overlooked masterpiece. Produced by Abe “Voco” Kesh (née Keshishian), a San Francisco radio DJ and producer who helmed Blue Cheer’s Vincebus Eruptum (which included their hit cover of Eddie Cochran’s “Summertime Blues”), Mandel’s Cristo Redentor was a landmark melding of rock, jazz, blues, country, quasi-classical and soul, with some experimental guitar work thrown in for good measure.

That includes his use of backward guitar effects, a manual tape-flipping process introduced by the Beatles on “I’m Only Sleeping,” from 1966’s Revolver, and perfected by Jimi Hendrix on the title track to 1967’s Are You Experienced. Harvey’s infinite sustain on his Les Paul goldtop – his entire solo on the title track consists of a single note sustained over the percolating groove for an astounding 56 bars – is why he was later dubbed the Sustain King.

Cristo Redentor was ahead of its time and still sounds fresh and invigorating today. Accurately described in reviews in 1968 as a “gently psychedelic album,” it garnered enough underground attention from guitar aficionados to help launch Mandel’s solo career. He was invited to join Canned Heat in 1969 and appeared with the group at the Woodstock Music and Arts Festival, where his controlled use of feedback near the end of the band’s signature tune, “On the Road Again,” and wicked finger vibrato and string bends on the shuffling “I’m Her Man” were highlights of his performance.

Harvey would subsequently join forces with blues violinist Sugarcane Harris to form the band Pure Food and Drug Act and also play with John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers in 1971. He was later recruited to play on the Rolling Stones’ 1976 album, Black and Blue, unleashing his patented licks on the funky “Hot Stuff” and the ballad “Memory Motel.”

On his own, Mandel quickly followed up the success of Cristo Redentor with 1969’s Righteous, with string and horn arrangements by noted jazz arranger Shorty Rogers, and 1970’s Games Guitars Play, which featured more of his signature sustain tones and backward guitar effects. After parting company with Philips, he released a succession of four albums on the Janus label, including 1972’s The Snake and 1973’s Shangrenade, the latter of which introduced his use of two-handed tapping on the fretboard, a trick that would later be picked up by a young Eddie Van Halen after seeing Harvey performing at the Whisky a Go Go on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood.

Following the release of 1974’s Feel the Sound, Mandel would experience a 20-year recording drought before putting out his eighth album as a leader, 1994’s Twist City. He has released 11 albums since then, the most recent being 2022’s Who’s Calling, his second for the Tompkins Square label. Created in the privacy of his home studio, utilizing primarily his ornately painted Parker Fly Mojo with DiMarzio pickups (which he’s dubbed his Snake guitar) directly into Pro Tools, Harvey’s latest has him interacting intuitively with pre-recorded rhythm tracks laid down by bassist Andy Hess and drummer Ryan Jewell, both of whom also recorded live in the studio with Mandel on 2016’s Snake Pit.

Dazzling chops and sustain lines abound on tracks like “Robo Snake,” “Crazy Town” and the title track. And his use of tightly orchestrated overdubbed guitar parts on tunes like “Moon Talk” and the funky “See You Around” give the effect of Harvey playing through a harmonizer.

Though plagued since 2011 by health issues – he’s mounted a GoFundMe page to help defray the cost of multiple cancer surgeries – the Sustain King is still wailing with abandon at the age of 77, as Who’s Calling so readily reveals.

It was a great treat for me to interview Harvey Mandel, who I first saw play at Humpin’ Hannah’s in Milwaukee, circa 1972. He was calling from his home in San Francisco.

This new album was done very differently than your previous ones.

Yes, Who’s Calling was completely different than Snake Pit. We did that all live at Fantasy Studios. In fact, we were one of the last to go in there and actually record live before they permanently closed the place. So the new record was an idea of Josh Rosenthal from Tompkins Square Records, who also did the Snake Pit album. He put the two guys, bass player and drummer, in a studio and just had them lay a few different grooves down. Then they gave it to me, and everything else you’re hearing is me in Pro Tools with my guitar and a few toys.

I was actually able to take chunks of their stuff and, through musical trickery, through knowing how to work Pro Tools so well, I was able to come up with every one of those songs that sound really original. They were all built off of these simple little beats and drum things. And the entire thing was done with no amplifier. I would put the guitar through a few pedals and then into Pro Tools.

And I don’t like to brag, but technically, playing-wise, this is definitely some of the best that I’ve ever done. If you heard the rhythm tracks just by themselves, it would be hard for you to imagine how I ever came up with what I did on these songs. But I just heard it my mind and knew what I could do. 

I’d go into my little studio with the Pro Tools setup and do a hundred takes if I felt like it, just experimenting with different ways to play over those rhythms. I always try to come up with some magic for each song. I’m not a music guy, where I can sit and read notes or transcribe a solo and all that. I just never got into that. But God gave me a good ear.

It sounds like you’re a very intuitive cat.

I can hear what’s good for songs, especially in the studio by myself. If you go in with a band, the bass player knows his part, the drummer knows his part, it’s live in the studio and you can only take it so far. But when in my home studio, I can experiment and come up with all kinds of weird shit that I would never be able to do in a regular studio situation without spending hundreds of thousands of dollars in studio time. But I could sit here in my own studio for four or five hours and come up with total magic.

To me, that’s the best way. I hear a song, the track is all worked up, it’s all EQ’d, it’s all ready to go, and I can lay the magic right in there where I want it.

What guitars are you currently playing?

I have eight or nine guitars that are my special ones that I use on everything. If I want to get a Strat sound, I have a John Petrucci Music Man guitar. And then I’ve got three custom Ken Parker guitars that I got way back when they first came out. These are the original ones, the best of Parker back then, because that’s when Ken was doing all the work himself.

I remember Pat Martino played a Parker Fly for a while.

Yeah. That’s how I got into the Parker thing. I was at the NAMM show and I had just gone over to see Pat Martino, who I was friends with. He was there with the Parker representative, and he said to the guy, “You should get Harvey Mandel on Parker.” The next thing you know, a few days later, I got a brand-new first Parker guitar in the mail. And after that, I ended up with another two or three of them.

The one custom job they made for me, I call it my Snake Guitar. It’s got all that beautiful artwork and stuff. That’s probably the main one that I use now. I played it quite a bit on Who’s Talking. And for special things I have all these other guitars. But my main all-round guitar is the Snake Guitar. I can play all the blues and can do all the bending; I can do all the creative shit. And the neck is not so big that I can’t chord it properly. That’s still my best all-round guitar.

Does your Snake Guitar have a whammy bar on it?

Yes, but not a real dive-bomb whammy, like the Ibanez JEM 7, the Steve Vai guitar that I got. You can grab the whammy bar on that thing and swing it around without breaking the guitar. It’s a whole different system. The Parker whammy is a different system than a Floyd Rose, who really got it all together with the whammy. I would like to get a setup like that on the Snake Guitar. But I don’t do a lot of crazy whammy stuff on that guitar. I have other guitars so I can do all the crazy stuff. Whatever is called for, I have the guitar that’ll take care of business.

If you go back to Cristo Redentor and Righteous, your tone is so warm and creamy. I’m guessing it’s a Les Paul.

Not totally. I had some other Gibson axes on that album too, maybe an ES-355 for some things. I go through periods. I had a Gibson period; I had a Strat period. I like the Ibanez. Truth is, there’s so many good guitars today it’s hard to pick one from another. But I’m really happy I got the Parker guitars. They’re so light. They’re good for my little body. I have small hands, so it’s easier for me to control that one. It’s much harder for me to play, like, a full-sized Strat or other guitars like that, because my hand isn’t as big. If you look at Steve Vai’s fingers, the guy’s got, like, giant long fingers. I’m just the opposite. I got small hands.

Do you still have that Les Paul from Cristo Redentor in your arsenal?

No, that’s a sad story. I had this guitar tech guy in Chicago who was doing a lot of stuff for me – it wasn’t long after I did Baby Batter [1971] – and he tried to put a Floyd Rose on that guitar. But to do it, he had to scoop out a hunk of wood in the back to put the springs in. As soon as he did that and we put the guitar back together, it was ruined. The sustain was gone and we could never get that guitar to sound right again. I ended up giving it away. It was one of the best guitars I ever had. The tone was astronomical. I could get another Les Paul, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Cristo Redentor was an amazing landmark. When it first came out, and even now, it sounds like a revelation. The stuff that you’re innovating on that record is unbelievable. You open with this Duke Pearson tune with strings, and you injected backward guitar throughout that record. Where were you coming from with all that?

That had to do with my producer, Abe Kesh. With my crazy stuff and his crazy ideas and all the stuff we put together, we came up with a lot of original sounds.

How did you pull off the backward guitar on Cristo Redentor and Games Guitars Play?

Back then, I had to do it the hard way. We had to get the two-inch reel, turn it around on the machine and play over a certain section. So all I could do is determine the beat to make sure that I was locked in and in the right spot. And just through experience and experimentation, I was able to play licks that worked. So when they put the tape back on proper and you’re listening to it going in the right direction, it sounded perfect the way I did it. I didn’t plan it out, but I had the ability to hear the tape backwards.

And it was a miracle, because I was flying by the seat of my pants. It was the first time I was ever doing any of that stuff in the studio, but it all worked out great. I’d know where the beat was, and I was able to set up the section with the ingenuity of, “This is where I was going to be utilizing that effect.” And I could start a little early, go a little late, and we just edited that out. No problem.

Nowadays, I can get a lot of that sound just from pedals. I don’t have to worry about syncing up a backward part by turning the tape over and recording. With Pro Tools, you can turn shit around. You can do anything. Anything you can do with the tape machine, you can do with Pro Tools, if you know what you’re doing.

One of the things that really jumped out at me when I heard Baby Batter for the first time, and when I listen to it now, is the very aggressive finger vibrato that you got going on that album. It’s like B.B. King on steroids.

Yeah, there’s no whammy bar in there. That was just pure Les Paul and my fingers. That’s one of the things I’m good at. I’m good at getting the sustain. I can imitate all the different vibratos – a B.B. King vibrato, an Albert King vibrato. Sometimes I pull the string down, sometimes I push it up. Sometimes I shake the entire neck up and down. Other times I shake just the wrist. B.B. King’s a wrist guy.

So when I was learning, I tried to learn all the different ways you could do it, and my own style came out of that. So now when I’m playing, I’m not even thinking about it. When I hit a certain note and it needs a vibrato, one will automatically be put on there without even having to think about it. If it’s in my mind, it’s already there in my fingers.

You must have gained some of that knowledge from seeing all the real-deal blues cats coming up in Chicago.

Definitely. I used to play down at Twist City all the time. All the good guys were down there, so I was lucky. I got to see everybody. I jammed with Buddy Guy so many times. When you watch Buddy Guy, even though he’s a wild man… he’s not technically real perfect, you know, because he gets a lot of weird sounds on the instrument. But he can play his ass off. Unbelievable bending and shaking and vibrato. And I was able to see that every night in person. It soaked into my brain, and it wasn’t long before I could imitate and do that same stuff.

So you got these things ingrained in you, but you also put a really unique spin on it – your own vocabulary, so to speak.

I try to. Nobody can be the best guitar player. There’s no such thing as the best. I can name the top 10 guys, and each one of them is total magic within themselves. And I’m just trying to be one of those. I have a certain style. I can play certain licks and stuff that nobody else would do exactly that same way.

You’ve been a complete original your entire career. And yet you never broke through to that level of visibility that some guitarists have attained.

It’s unfortunate that I didn’t ever get with a band like a Van Halen, where I had, like, a pop band to get hits, because that’s how those guys all got known. I didn’t get well known because, by the time it might’ve happened, Canned Heat had petered out and I was off on my own. And not being a lead singer was a handicap, of course. I was never able to record any good pop songs, so I ended up being an instrumentalist.

Unless you’re like a Jeff Beck or a Pat Martino, it’s very hard to have a career just doing instrumentals. But I’ve done it on my own level.

You mentioned Van Halen. And, of course, a lot of people have noted that you were doing two-handed tapping long before Eddie Van Halen ever did.

He actually came to the Whisky a Go Go when I was playing there one night in L.A. and saw me do the finger-tapping thing. And, of course, he took off with it – went his own way and did it great. But he totally got the idea from me. He totally took my thing and went nuts with it and did his thing. And now, for the past 40 years, the whole world has been doing finger tapping.

You initiated that technique on your 1973 album, Shangrenade.

Yeah, every song, every note of guitar you’re hearing on that record, except for the rhythm playing, I’m doing finger tapping. All those melodies, everything I did is total finger-tap style. And everything wasn’t about doing the real fast thing like Eddie Van Halen did. It’s more slow melodies, some soloing, but still going back and forth from one hand to the other, totally tapping. It’s all fingertips.

Are you still tapping on your records?

Just a very little bit here and there. Of course, we’re hearing some similarities on occasion, but every one of my records is different. Different style, sound, guitar, toys, studio and vibe.

On some of the songs from Who’s Calling, it sounds like you’re doing fingerstyle comping, like on “Crazy Town.”

I’m playing with fingers on every song. I don’t play with the pick. I haven’t played with a pick now in over 10 years. Everything you’re hearing is my thumb and my three fingers on the right hand – mostly the thumb and middle finger. I call it hybrid picking, but there’s no pick – it’s all fingers. I can get that fatter, fleshier tone using my fingers. I could do the same lick with a pick and it won’t sound the same; it’s always a little thinner, a little tinnier.

The fingers give a magic sound. And I just happened to do it one day on the gig, and I thought, Let me try to play all of the songs without using the pick. So I did it all night, and it was the best I’ve played in years. After that I said, “That’s it. I’m done with the pick.” And now it’s just natural for me to work that way.

And it doesn’t effect your speed on your solos?

No. The only thing a pick can do that I can’t do is, like, shred metal guitar. That’s not my bag anyway.

But look at jazz players like Joe Pass, who can play incredible runs at fast speeds. And he used to play with his fingers. It depends on the person. If it’s in your mind, if you can hear it, if you can see it and you’re good enough, you can get away with it.

Wes Montgomery played lines that were so unbelievably fluid, all without a pick.

Yes. He could take his thumb and make it work like a pick. I can’t quite do it all with the thumb, so I use thumb and middle finger, which is different than everyone else. I’ll use my thumb and my other fingers for chording, claw style.

Other times I’m just using my thumb and middle finger for playing single-note lines and I’ll have all the speed I need. And using fingers, it all comes out sounding perfect. Playing with a pick can be great in the hands of the right person. I’m not that person. I’m not as good with the pick as I am with my fingers.

On some of the tracks on Who’s Calling, like “Robo Snake,” “Moon Talk” and “Last Walk,” it sounds like you’re playing through a harmonizer.

Not a harmonizer on the guitar as far as an effect, but rather harmonizing with real guitars doing it. All the parts you hear are me playing them. There is no harmonizer on any of this record.

You did that on past recordings as well, like on Games Guitars Play, where you had a multiple harmony guitars thing, sort of like the Allman Brothers.

Yeah, on all my records, if you’re hearing harmonies, you’re hearing the real guitars doing parts. I can’t even think of anything that I’ve done where I used a harmonizer. And I have those tools. I have the Eventide H9 Harmonizer, which I can get just about any guitar sound on planet earth with. The equipment I have now is good because I surely can get all the different sounds that I want. I can imitate or innovate.

Do you listen back to your old records?

No. Once I make a record, I’ve already heard it 100 times. After that, I’m done with it. Once in a while I’ll go back for the fun of it and listen to Baby Batter and go, “Damn! I actually could play good!” And that was, like, 50 years ago. Of course, everyone does all that stuff now, but back then very few people played like that.

As a guitarist and songwriter who brings pop melodicism to a bombastic rock template, Billy Squier was one of the 1980s’ biggest rock stars. Far from hiding his influences, he wore his Led Zeppelin and Queen reverence proudly on his sleeve. In fact, Squier was described on several occasions as “a one-man Led Zeppelin,” an appellation that Jimmy Page himself seemed to agree with. Squier tells GP about hanging with the Zep guitarist one night in New York City.

“We were at the China Club, talking about doing a project together, and he asked me about a song from my album Hear & Now,” Squier recalls. “On the album, there’s a song called ‘Don’t Say You Love Me,’ which has this cool, funky riff that introduces the verses. Jimmy asked me, ‘Who came up with that?’ When I told him it was me, he turned his head away and muttered ‘Fuck!’ He was like, ‘So this guy is not only a singer, but he’s also doing my bits too – he’s the guitar player and the singer’. And I will always remember that because it was the greatest compliment.”

Squier first came to prominence in the late 1970s as vocalist and guitarist with pop-rockers Piper. After signing to A&M Records, the group released its self-titled debut in 1976 and its 1977 follow-up, Can’t Wait, before splitting up soon after. In the aftermath, Squier kickstarted his solo career in earnest. His 1980 debut album, The Tale of the Tape, displayed his knack for writing hook-laden, guitar-heavy tunes that would bring him a mass audience via his 1981 follow-up, Don’t Say No.

Featuring his calling card, “The Stroke,” the album pushed Squier into commercial and artistic overdrive. A swath of additional hits and albums solidified his success through that decade, but a change in the musical landscape, a lack of record label support and his own disenchantment with the music scene saw Squier walk away from the industry after the release of 1993’s Tell the Truth, his last album with a major label.

His 1998 acoustic outing, Happy Blue, was a huge musical departure and proved to be the last the public heard from Squier for some time. Away from the spotlight, he continued toiling away whenever the musical muse called, making sporadic appearances with his band and on his own. In 2006 and 2008, he did stints as a member of Ringo Starr’s All-Starr Band touring group.

Then, in early 2023, Squier resurfaced with the gritty, blues-infused scorcher “Harder On a Woman,” showing he hasn’t lost his knack for writing great songs. The time away has been beneficial, as Squier sounds revitalized, inspired and firing on all cylinders, but he says the song was far from an attempt to get back in the game.

“I’m not doing this to start a comeback,” he states. “I wrote it because the song was important for me to put out, and it gave me the chance to make my voice heard in a way I’ve been known for doing. It has brought me back to something which was near and dear to me for a long time but hadn’t been a big part of my life in recent years. But when I did it, it all came back.”

All things considered, this seemed the perfect time to catch up with Squier to discuss gems from his vault.

1. “Calley Oh” from ‘The Tale of the Tape’ (1980)

“This is a good example of the time I was really honing the Billy Squier guitar sound. The concept is simple: Plug a great guitar into a great amp, and don’t let anything get in between. On ‘Calley,’ it’s a 1960 Telecaster Custom through a Marshall Lead 100. On the Piper records, I had two great guitars; a ’57 Fender Strat, and a ’56 Gibson Les Paul Special, both of which I still have, and an early ’70s Marshall Lead 100. I’ve always taken a tremendous amount of inspiration from the guitars I’ve played.

“I had a big breakthrough when I was in Piper when I met Frank Levi, who was a guitar-amp wizard working at S.I.R in New York City. I told him that I wanted to expand on the classic Marshall sound: I wanted more brilliance on the top end and more crunch on the bottom, but without losing any of the midrange characteristics. So after rehearsals, we would sit in the shop at S.I.R, and he’d tweak the components until we got what I wanted – a Marshall on steroids!

“The first channel emphasized the brilliant aspects of the sonic spectrum, and the second focused on the deep end. I’d jumper the two channels together, and it became a tremendous asset for me. If I was playing one of my Fenders, I might push the low-end channel, and with the Gibsons, I’d alter the balance to favor the first channel. The results were spectacular!

“On this song, I used a 1960 Fender Telecaster Custom. When the guitars come in, you can hear it’s jangly and bright, but still fat. It doesn’t sound like a Gibson, but it holds up against it. You can put that guitar against a Les Paul, play them together, and you’ll have a really good dialog going. So ‘Calley Oh’ was a really good introduction for what I would become known for.”

2. “In the Dark” from ‘Don’t Say No’ (1981)

“A lot of this album is that Telecaster again. The difference was that, on this record, we started recording at the Power Station in New York, which had this spectacular, big wooden cathedral room with a sound that was unmatched for what I was doing, and you can hear it all over that record. I also had a phenomenal producer/engineer in Reinhold Mack.

“Originally, I wanted Brian May to produce the record, and Brian was keen, but Queen had gotten a bit over-extended on their recording and touring commitments, so in the end it wasn’t possible, and Brian suggested I ask Mack.

“When I heard The Game, I knew I’d found my man. Before he produced Queen, he had engineered a lot of the ELO records. That drum sound on the ELO records was incredible, and the presence on Jeff Lynne’s voice, that was Mack, too. And what Mack did for Queen on The Game, sound-wise, he opened everything up.

“So I got him over from Munich, and off we went. We had a great relationship that worked well together because his strength was more on the technical end, and mine was more on the writing and musical end, but we were able to switch roles when the situation called for it.

“This song is a great example of what I think I do best. Although I come from a pop background, I always wanted to rock. ‘In the Dark’ has a lot of swagger, a great riff at the beginning, great melodies and musical hooks. It’s a pop-rock hybrid.”

3. “The Stroke” from ‘Don’t Say No’ (1981)

“Obviously, the biggest song of my career. I knew that it was special, musically, and that the title was going to be provocative and controversial. I also knew that the song had a deeper meaning that wasn’t readily apparent on first listen. I was able to capitalize on the controversy and get a lot of attention while writing something that I was proud of from a lyrical standpoint.

“And the reverse-snare sound – that was something we came up with in the studio, not in pre-production. I suggested that we flip the tape and have [drummer] Bobby Chouinard play to the tape running backward. Mack heard it and immediately said, ‘Do another track.’ Bobby ended up playing it half a dozen times, and that’s how we got that sound.

“I’m playing my ’57 Strat through the Marshall. I always liked the ‘Volga Boatmen’ [Russian folk] song, and including that as a countermelody in the song’s break was a bit of cinematography that I came up with. I actually recorded a guitar solo on the track, but I took it out when we mixed it, because I didn’t think it was necessary.”

4. “G.O.D” from ‘Hear & Now’ (1989)

“It’s very unique. I hadn’t done anything else like this before. When I was in the middle of doing Hear & Now, my production manager went out on the road with Def Leppard. They had just released Hysteria at the time, and he called me and said, ‘Boss, they’re stealing your shit!’ Interesting observation from someone who knew me about as well as anybody. How’s the saying go: ‘Amateurs borrow, professionals steal’? We’re all influenced by somebody.

“But after hearing that, I decided I was going to do something that none of these guys could do, that they couldn’t steal if they tried, and that’s what got me onto the expanded approach for the song. ‘G.O.D’ came about one morning when I woke up and something was bothering me, and I went, ‘Oh God!’ A light bulb went off in my head: How many times do we say, ‘Oh God’? We’re talking to God when we say that, aren’t we? We’re looking for some help, but he never talks back to us. And that’s where the idea came from.

“It sounds more like a sensual, edgy rock song, but it’s really about searching for answers and coming up empty – beseeching a higher power who remains elusive in the worst of times. Where is God when you need him?

“That song has so many bits and pieces to it. It’s funky, it’s got gospel, and it rocks like hell, along with a great solo, which I played on my ’59 ’Burst through that classic Marshall stack. The song takes you through a lot of changes. I wouldn’t call it a pop song, but it’s got a catchy chorus and a lot of hooks.”

5. “Harder on a Woman” single (2023)

“The big difference between this song and what I’ve done before is that I wasn’t concerned about sounding like Don’t Say No or creating a lavish production. I wanted it to be all about the song. I wanted it to be in your face, like we were playing the song right in your living room. There’s very minimal processing on it. We tracked in a small room using small amps. I’m playing through a fantastic Bluesbreaker-style amp that’s made by Bob Reinhardt, who builds amps and racing cars.

“I didn’t spend much time on the guitar sounds. We really went for the performance. Simon Kirke played drums, and I was very fortunate to grab my old bass player, Mark Clarke, when he was in town. Plus, I had G.E. Smith lurking in the wings. It’s a no-frills recording, very simple and direct. Mike Chapman laid that approach on me when he produced Tell the Truth, my last full-blown rock record, in 1993. He got me into bringing everything more upfront and direct.

“There are at least three hooks in the song. The guitars, which are driving the song, are really playing as one. To me, it sounds almost like a Stones song in places. The guitar I used is a James Trussart resonator. I think it might have been the first one he ever did. It’s basically got a steel guitar body with two pickups, like a standard two-pickup guitar, but also has a candy-box pickup in the guitar underneath the plate. It’s got one volume control for the two pickups with a toggle switch, one volume control for the candy box, and one tone control for the lot.

“You can use it like a regular electric guitar, or you can use it as a resonator or both. I’m using it as a hybrid on this song. When I got the idea that I wanted to play this with a drop D tuning, I thought of that guitar right away. I’d never recorded with it before but had the feeling that it was going to do the job, so I brought it in and didn’t play anything else.

“I did the six-note mini-solo with my ’59 ’Burst Number One, which I threw down upstairs in my carriage house, directly onto GarageBand as a demo so the guys could hear it, because we didn’t have time to rehearse. I had a little Vox Brian May amp lying around, so I just plugged it in, turned it up a bit, and ran off the tracks.

“When I was in the studio getting ready to re-record the solo properly, we put up the demo and noticed that it had this unique sound to it that we might not beat using conventional means. The carriage house has a high ceiling, a wood floor, a bunch of glass and no damping, and it turned out to have a great live sound to it. It’s a cool sound, and there was no way I was going to do it any better, so I just used the demo.”

I grew up thinking of hard rock as dangerous music. I wasn’t entirely wrong.

As a young musician with older brothers, and parents who indulged our musical interests, I was exposed to everything from the Who to the MC5 in the 1960s, well before I turned 10, and saw some hard-rock acts of the day performing at free outdoor concerts in and around the Detroit area.

It was a rough scene in a rough place, a sense that perhaps no band represented better in their music or stage show than the MC5, a truly revolutionary band of musical rebels.

But like most rebellious things, it was seductive as well, and I soaked up everything I could from that time, especially local acts like the MC5, Grand Funk Railroad and the Stooges, whose singer, Iggy Pop, summed up the attitude best when he ominously crooned, “Gimme danger, little stranger.”

I can’t think of three bands who could better warp a young child’s mind.

By the time Deep Purple came around with In Rock, in 1970, I was hooked on loud, aggressive guitar rock. I didn’t know much about that group’s guitarist at the time, only that, given the ferocity of his playing, he must be a sight to see onstage.

In time, I would learn that Ritchie Blackmore was one of the most unhinged guitarists to grace a stage from that era, and a man who showed no mercy to his guitar.

Sure, Townshend smashed them, and Hendrix set one on fire. But the destruction was spontaneous and over quickly.

Blackmore, on the other hand, prepared for the act and dragged it out, flaying his Fender Stratocasters with methodical menace.

And in this live clip from 1977, Blackmore shows no mercy at all as he systematically obliterates a black Stratocaster in front of a baying mob of Rainbow fans.

Firstly, the guitarist introduces the unfortunate Strat to his substantial platform boots (see above) as it howls on the floor. Then, holding his axe aloft, he delivers a decapitating blow as it smashes headfirst onto the stage floor.

It’s true ‘70s Strats have their critics, but this might seem a little harsh to some…

“Blues is like a stepchild now,” Buddy Guy says. “You don’t hear it on the radio, except maybe on satellite. I’m not asking anybody to play the blues like you do hip-hop or something. You don’t have to play Muddy Waters every day, even, but play him once a week or something. That’d make me feel better.

“It’s like they say about cooking,” he continues. “You don’t know how good the gumbo is in Louisiana until you go down there and taste it. Whether you like it or not is up to you, but at least you tasted it. And the blues is being treated like that. I don’t care how good a blues record you make – if nobody hears it, it’s just there. It bothers me, because I’ve dedicated my life to the blues, and a lot of other people have, too. What did we do to be treated like that? I don’t know, man, but I’d like to see it get straightened out.

“That’s what’s kept me out there, man. I’ve kept doing it so people don’t forget Muddy and Wolf, B.B. – all the rest of ’em. If I’m not playing it, and not many other people are, we’ll lose it. That’d be just terrible.”

A lifelong blues devotee, Guy has made his way into the history books at Fender as a signature artist. His go-to guitar for decades has been a Fender Stratocaster, and the most famous one of those is black with white polka dots. (He also has black-on-white models.)

“When I was leaving Louisiana to go to Chicago [in 1957], my mother’d had a stroke,” Guy remembers. “She was crazy about her children, and I knew she was gonna worry about me leaving. I had to figure out something that would make her smile, so I said, ‘I’m gonna go to Chicago, and I found out I’m gonna make a little more money than I’ve been making. I’m gonna send you some money, and I’m gonna drive back down here in a polka-dot Cadillac.’

“She did smile, but I knew I was lying to her, ’cause I didn’t want a polka-dot Cadillac. And I didn’t get a chance to explain that to her before she passed away. So that polka-dot guitar came from me lying to my mom.”

Isabell Guy passed away in 1968, well before Guy made it big on his own. In tribute to his mother, he began talking to Fender about making a polka-dot Strat.

“At first they said, ‘That’s impossible,’” Guy recalls. “Finally, a guy there said, ‘I can make it.’ I think they thought it was a joke.

“And then, at the first NAMM show where they showed them, they called my agent up and said, ‘Tell Buddy those polka-dots are going off the rack faster than anything!’”

Currently priced $1,149.99, Fender’s Buddy Guy Standard Stratocaster appears in the iconic white polka-dot on black finish that is “as flamboyant as Guy himself.”

Featuring an alder body and soft V-profile one-piece maple neck with a 9.5-inch-radius fingerboard and 21 medium jumbo frets, this outstanding axe is loaded with a trio of standard single-coil pickups for that classic electric blues tone.

Born in Louisiana in 1936, it was in Baton Rouge during the mid-1950s where Buddy Guy got his indoctrination into the moves that were part and parcel of many blues guitarists’ stage acts.

“I saw T-Bone [Walker], and he played his guitar, like, flat out in front of him, but I don’t remember him putting it behind his head,” Guy recalls.

“Guitar Slim, now, he was wild. The first time I saw him, he had this big repertoire of things he used to do. In Baton Rouge, when I first saw him, I heard an electric guitar, but there was no one playing. And I was saying, ‘What the hell is this?’ All of a sudden, he walks in the door on someone else’s back, with a red suit on, playing ‘I Got Something for You,’ with a 100-foot cord that had been extended outside the club!

“His band was Ray Charles’ band from before Ray got famous. I saw that and said, ‘Well, if I ever learn how to play, I wanna play like B.B. King – but I want to act like Guitar Slim.”

Meeting Muddy Waters

However, it was not a confident Guy who arrived in the Windy City on September 25, 1957. “I didn’t think I was good enough for anything, especially when I got to Chicago and saw the Muddys and the Wolfs and all those guitar players,” Guy says.

One of his early breaks in Chicago was playing with Otis Rush at the 708 Club on East 47th Street. “I went up and played Guitar Slim stuff that I used to do, and a number by Jimmy Reed. Muddy [Waters] was living about four blocks away and somebody called and told him I sounded pretty good, and he decided to come by and see for himself.

“Muddy had a red Chevrolet station wagon. I came out of the club and could hear it rolling up. He took me out and bought me a bologna sandwich. He said, ‘I heard you were telling people you’re hungry.’ And I was! I hadn’t eaten in three days, but nobody believed me because of how I played the guitar. They said, ‘You can’t be hungry and play like that!’ So I got fed by the Mud.”

Guy embraced every opportunity to be nourished by Waters, musically as well. “I didn’t work with him,” he explains. “I was in class. I just sat in a corner, and if I ever got asked to play with Muddy, I would always learn something.”

Meeting John Lee Hooker

A fan of Hooker’s since his days playing “Boogie Chillen’,” Guy didn’t meet the Crawling King Snake until the mid ’60s when he was part of a package tour in Europe, backing a variety of American folk and blues acts. “I was the youngest one out there” Guy says, “so the promoter told me, ‘I will give you 50 dollars a week to make sure everybody wakes up to be on the bus on time.’ So I did that too.”

Guy’s moment with Hooker came one morning when the tour was in Germany and everyone was gathered in the common room of a venue. “I wanted to meet John Lee Hooker,” he recalls, “and someone was at one of the tables, kind of stammering – ‘Bah-bah-bah…’ I thought, Whoever that is, I don’t want to be bothered with him. I started playing ‘Boogie Chillen’ over in the corner with an acoustic guitar.

“Next thing I know, the guy with the stammer is coming over to talk to me. I said to myself, Oh my god, I ain’t never gonna meet John Lee Hooker, ’cause here’s someone who’s gonna keep bugging me. And the man started laughing, and he laughed until he started crying – ’cause he knew I didn’t know who he was.

“He said, ‘I’m Johnny.’ I said, ‘I don’t want to meet Johnny; I want to meet John Lee!’ and he just fell down on his knees, laughing. He said, ‘I’m John Lee, boy!’ And from that day until he died, he was my best friend.”

Who knows what guitar music might be today if Stevie Ray Vaughan hadn’t come along in 1983.

When SRV and Double Trouble released Texas Flood that year, radio was dominated by synth-pop and hair-metal acts. It seemed unlikely that an electric blues album was going to change anything, let alone make a dent in the charts.

But that’s exactly what Stevie and his band did.

Despite assurances from record promoters that rock radio would never touch the album or its pair of singles, “Pride and Joy” and “Love Struck Baby,” Texas Flood began climbing the charts shortly after its June 13 release that year, while the video for the latter track became an MTV staple.

Touring the U.S. in support of the album, SRV and Double Trouble saw attendance at their shows quickly grow.

Coming out at a time when production values favored synthetic sheen over natural tone, Texas Flood was an antidote of sorts for fans of blues, rock and great guitar playing.

“The performance is pure, honest and right there,” Double Trouble bassist Tommy Shannon told Alan Paul and Andy Aledort, authors of the 2019 book Texas Flood: The Inside Story of Stevie Ray Vaughan. “And it has the best guitar tone Stevie ever got on record.”

Texas Flood would eventually go double Platinum in the U.S., but sales figures aren’t the real story. The album unleashed a flood of its own as young electric guitar players got turned on to this “new” sound and began playing blues.

Older and less well-known blues guitarists like Robert Cray, Robben Ford and Walter Trout were suddenly enjoying success and acclaim, and even John Lee Hooker found his popularity revived in 1989 with The Healer.

Before the decade was over, blues fans had their own magazines devoted to the music, along with bars and clubs across the country. Stevie Ray launched an industry.

And then suddenly he was gone.

The shock of his death on August 27, 1990, at just 35 years old, has lessened over the years, but the memory still brings a flash of astonishment and sacred awe over those who recall hearing the news and reflecting upon what was lost.

In the world of rock music, 1970 was a year of disasters. From the Beatles’ breakup to the deaths of Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, it felt that year as if the very pillars of rock music were being torn down.

Their absence created opportunities for artists new and old to fill the void.

Yet in the midst of such profound change, Eric Clapton, then considered one of rock’s most important guitarists, chose to do the unthinkable by retreating from fame.

Late that summer, he released his self-titled debut solo album, a modest and generally laidback recording on which he largely kept his searing guitar playing in check while putting the focus on his songs and rookie vocal talents.

For fans of his innovative work in Cream and Blind Faith, the album was thin stuff indeed. So it was all the more disappointing when, just a few months later, Clapton disappeared completely into the pseudonymous Derek and the Dominos.

The group’s debut album, Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs, was issued that November without fanfare or any mention of its star guitarist. With its rough vocals and loose extended jams, the record was miles away from the tightly focused, innovative rock of Cream or Clapton’s subsequent band, Blind Faith.

Critics blew the album off. U.S. record buyers were more favorable toward it, but the disc failed to make a dent in Britain.

Clapton retreated into heroin addiction and largely sat out the next few years, while rock and roll became dominated by powerhouse acts like Led Zeppelin, the Who and Deep Purple.

When he finally emerged in 1974 with the breezy 461 Ocean Boulevard, it was clear Clapton had once again found his footing. But it was also evident that he had left the brand of rock with which he had thrilled and inspired countless other guitarists far behind.

Over half a century on, history has been kinder both to Layla and Clapton. Once considered a failure, the album is now hailed as a rock and roll landmark.

As for Clapton, he’s rightly celebrated for his accomplishments as a blues stylist as well as for the years he thrilled us as rock’s premier guitarist.

But why did Clapton take a detour into anonymity and isolation, just as his solo career was beginning, and at a time when rock and roll needed a hero more than ever?

“He didn’t know what his next step was going to be, but he wasn’t ready to be a solo artist and front his own group,” said Bobby Whitlock, Clapton’s co-singer, co-songwriter and keyboard-playing partner in Derek and the Dominos. “The Dominos was really just a stepping stone to his solo career, of his being able to go out there on his own and be the Eric Clapton that he became.”

In this historic clip from the 1985 Live Aid concert (thought to have been watched by roughly 40 percent of the world’s population!) Clapton performs an epic version of the Derek and the Dominos classic “Layla” using his famous “Blackie” Fender Stratocaster.

Making its live debut 50 years ago, this iconic Strat was put together by Nashville luthier Ted Newman Jones using a 1956 alder body and a 1957 V-profile maple neck.

“It is such a personal thing – I almost made this guitar myself – from different components, and I’ve never done that before or since,” Clapton told Christie’s, who auctioned the guitar off for a record-breaking $959,500 in 2004.

"I feel that that guitar has become part of me,” he told Guitar Player in 1985. “I get offered guitars and endorsements come along every now and then. [A guitar maker] tried to get me interested in a fairly revolutionary guitar. I tried it, and liked it, and played it on stage – liked it a lot. But while I was doing that, I was thinking Well, Blackie is back there. If I get into this guitar too deeply, it's tricky, because then I won't be able to go back to Blackie. And what will happen to that?’

“This all happens in my head while I'm actually playing [laughs]. I can be miles away thinking about this stuff, and suddenly I shut down and say, ‘This is enough. No more. Nice new guitar. Sorry. You're very nice, but...’

“That's when I drag the old one back on, and suddenly it's just like jumping into a warm pool of water.”  

In 2010, Malina Moye became the first African-American woman to perform the National Anthem on guitar at a professional sports event, a match-up between the Minnesota Vikings and the Dallas Cowboys. She’s gone on to play the anthem at other events since then, but she treasures the memory of the first time she walked on a football field with her Strat. “People were freaking out, like, ‘Jimi Hendrix did that years ago. Can this girl really do it?’” she recalls. “I didn’t look at it like that. I was just excited that I was asked to play. Little did I know it would be a historical moment.”

On her 2009 debut, Diamonds & Guitars, Moye established herself as a forceful and imaginative singer, songwriter and guitarist, capable of blending R&B, pop, funk, hip-hop and rock in a way that sounded seamless. Her audience grew with subsequent releases, the 2014 EP Rock & Roll Baby and the 2019 full-length Bad as I Wanna Be. Now she’s set to make her biggest splash yet with Dirty (WCE Records), a power-packed and musically diverse collection of inspirational originals (and one sublime Led Zeppelin cover) that suggests she’s just beginning to hit her stride.

“The album is songs, stories and guitar solos,” Moye says with a laugh. “It’s funny, because people always tell you to pick a lane as an artist, but I was never comfortable with that. I play rock, I play soul, I play funk – that’s the Malina Moye sound. I can’t be in one box. It’s like I always say, ‘The notes don’t know they’re supposed to be in a box.’”

The rhythm-guitar sound on some of new album’s tracks is pretty brutal and direct. It’s almost got an EDM-like heaviness.

EDM – wow, that’s interesting you hear it that way. The sound was a reflection of my attitude. With the first single “Say My Name,” I was taking a stand for myself – “I’m here making it happen, and you will remember my name.” I wanted the guitar to sound powerful: the way the chords crunch; but even the solos, I wanted them to sound hot. I used a Boss Metal Zone, one of my favorite pedals. It’s buttery and thick, and it just nails it. I put that with a Fender Hot Rod DeVille 212 amp and a wah. That’s the sound.

Now, with the solo on “Say My Name,” I wanted it to sound like a video game. There was no way a blues situation would work with that, so I thought, I’ve got to come at this like I’m a metal player. That’s the zone I was in.

Love that solo. Also “Over Ur Lies” and “Courage” – beautifully phrased. Do you write and demo solos, or are they improvised?

I lean toward spontaneity, but I always want to honor the song. In “Courage,” I wanted to show taste, not so much flash, so my mind went, What if I were Paul Jackson Jr.? Only I’m not Paul Jackson Jr., I’m Malina Moye, so you get the vibe of both. It was about nuance. That was a one-take thing. There was a note that bothered me, but I said, Uh-uh, you’re going to leave it just as it is.

You do a sweet and delightful cover of “D’yer Mak’er.” I was waiting to see how you would approach that solo – “Will she quote Jimmy Page?” But you didn’t.

No, not at all, and I’ll tell you why: Because I’m not Jimmy Page. [laughs] I’m being honest. There’s only one Jimmy Page, and he’s it.

You could have covered dozens of other Zeppelin songs. What was it about “D’yer Mak’er” that spoke to you?

It actually had a lot to do with the order of the other songs on the album. Throughout the album, I was trying to show the emotional ride a person goes through before they can arrive at peace and forgiveness. With “D’yer Mak’er,” I thought, “It’s not about another person; it’s about a thing that somebody else is trying to take away.” Led Zeppelin’s version was so sexual and so good, but I knew I could do it my own way and still honor them.

Have you sent your version to Jimmy Page? Do you know if he’s heard it?

That would have been up to my lawyer to get the clearance. [laughs] I don’t know if Jimmy’s heard it. But you know what would be cool? I’d love to cover it with Robert Plant. Wouldn’t that be something? Sometimes you wind up on the same shows, so you never know

You’ve also covered Jimi Hendrix in the past. Do you ever feel trepidation doing songs by guitar legends?

I don’t think that way, because I don’t put myself in their category. I’m a fan. These guys are the reason why I play. I could never do what they did, but I try to share the moment and give back what they gave me.

I don’t get scared of playing their songs, and it goes back to what my dad said to me years ago. He said, “I’ve got good news and bad news for you. The bad news is, no matter how hard you try, you’re never gonna be Jimmy Page. You’ll never be Hendrix or Prince or any of those people. Now, you want the good news?” I said, “How can there be good news? Daddy, you just told me I’m not going to be anybody. You crushed my dreams.” And he said, “No, no, because the good news is, they’re never gonna be you. Use that.” Once I took that to heart, I felt free to do whatever I wanted.

Being left-handed, you used to flip your Strat upside down. You don’t have to do that anymore, right?

Not anymore, now that I’ve got models from the Fender Custom Shop. They’ve built me some really incredible guitars. When you flip the guitar upside down you’ll have some issues, because of the knobs and things; you can’t bear down the way you should. When Fender first built me a guitar, I said, “I need it to be a left-handed body with a right-handed headstock, and it’s got to be strung backward and the nut has to be flipped.” That probably sounded funny, but it worked out.

Plus, I have my own signature strings with Dean Markley. I mix up the gauges because I don’t have man hands, but with these strings, I can really wail. Also, the pickups I use are important. I’ve got the DiMarzio True Velvet and Virtual Vintage Blues pickups, and they really make my leads sound strong. My whole thing is, the sound has to be thick. I don’t want a sound that gets lost in the background. It’s got to cut through and grab you.

You play a Flying V in certain parts of the “Say My Name” video. Did you use that on the album?

I did. I used it for some layering. The Strat is the main guitar, but Gibson gave me a replica of Jimi’s ’69 Flying V. It’s a lefty and it’s strung upside down. I used that on some parts. It’s beautiful. The mix of those two guitars really worked great. I didn’t need anything more.

Get Dirty here.

If you explore the history of funk guitar, you’ll notice distinctive technical elements among artists known for playing this soulful style of music. The godfather of it all was Jimmy Nolen, who recorded and performed in James Brown’s legendary band in the mid ’60s and laid the foundation for an often-imitated guitar style that others have embraced and expanded upon ever since.

Nolen’s signature style featured a fairly clean and bright electric guitar tone and a syncopated rhythmic approach that incorporated the use of alternate picking and strumming with fretted notes and chords that were typically interspersed with fret-hand-muted strings and “dead” notes, an approach that came to be referred to as “scratch,” or “chicken scratch.”

In addition, he used a handful of dominant-7 and minor-7 chord shapes, or “grips,” that often included upper-structure chord tones, also known as tensions, or extensions, such as the 9th and 13th – what many musicians would label “jazz chords.” 

As you move through the decades following funk’s evolution, you’ll encounter other guitarists who further developed the style by applying musical concepts shared by like-minded musicians. The most notable of these are Chic’s Nile Rodgers, Funkadelic’s Eddie Hazel, the Meters’ Leo Nocentelli, the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ John Frusciante, and the late, Minneapolis-based funk-pop music legend Prince, who kept funk rhythm guitar alive and well during the keyboard-dominated pop and new wave music that surged in the 1980s.

More recently, another very talented guitarist from Minneapolis has been strumming up a lot of attention with his unique brand of modern funk music: Cory Wong of Vulfpeck and Fearless Flyers fame. A prolific artist, Wong has consistently released exciting music with these bands and various collaborative projects over the past decade, as well as inspired solo material.

The uniquely freaky guitarist is revered for his resourceful chord vocabulary and keen rhythmic prowess, as well as his technical, stylistic and tonal hallmarks, such as his dexterous pick-hand “helicopter” strumming technique, slinky single-note riffs and phrases, sparse and melodic soloing and his penchant for using his Fender Stratocaster’s position-4 pickup selection, which pairs the neck and middle pickups together, out of phase.

Wong is also a thoughtful improviser who enjoys playfully pushing whomever he’s playing with to greater creative heights. His inspired performance ethic harnesses a genuinely thrilling energy level and couples it with a spontaneous, off-the-cuff feel in both the recording studio and onstage.

If you’re new to funk rhythm guitar, there are plenty of things to discover and learn about the style by studying a player like Wong and the key musical elements found in his music. The first concept you should become aware of is what’s known as “the three S’s of funk”: strum, scratch and slide. As you begin exploring the style, you’ll find that the majority of classic funk rhythm guitar parts feature at least two of these elements. The strumming aspect is rather obvious and refers to heartily strumming the strings in an alternating down-up-down-up motion with a flat pick, although this may also be done with the bare fingers.

Once you add muted-string “scratching” to the mix – performed by strumming the strings while momentarily loosening your fret hand’s grip on a chord shape to dampen the strings and replace the notes with pitchless, percussive “chucks” – you’ll find that it imparts an authentic rhythmic and percussive edge to the music.

Finally, the slippery shifting and sliding movements between chords, such as sliding into a chord from one fret below, adds another style element to the music and a distinctly soulful sound.

As you begin blending these three factors, you’ll arrive at a sound that definitively epitomizes funk rhythm guitar. The first funk chord one should learn is that which is most often used and heard in the style and considered the signature funk chord– the dominant 9, which is a dominant 7 chord with a major 9th added, theoretically and intervallically spelled 1 (root), 3, 5, b7, 9. In the key of E, that would be E9, spelled with the notes E G# B D F#.

Ex. 1 shows the most widely used fingering and voicing for this chord, played across the top five strings in 7th position. Notice that the 5th of the chord, B, is voiced up an octave from its theoretical spelling within the chord formula and becomes the highest note, above both the 9th, F# and flatted 7th, D.

Once you have a feel for this chord shape performed in its full five-note incarnation (not including the open low E note, which is added here only because it happens to be available as an octave-doubled root note in this key), the next step is to learn partial forms of it by stripping the chord down to its bare minimum and focusing on the essential upper-register notes.

Compared to other musical styles, such as rock, metal or country, guitar in a typical funk rhythm section plays a more rhythmic and percussive role. It’s heard primarily in the background and integrated into a supportive groove with the bass and drums. Funk guitarists often find a place, or niche, to thrive within the blend of other instruments, and this is in stark contrast to the electric guitar’s role in other styles, such as rock, where it’s typically one of the sonically dominant instruments.

In funk, the guitar is more of a community or ensemble instrument and placed into a secondary role which is nonetheless musically important, to say the least. With this in mind, you’ll find that most funk guitarists, such as Wong, choose to strip their chords down to the essential notes, typically two- and three-note shapes played on the higher strings.

Wong estimates that he uses partial chords in his music “90 percent of the time,” and notes that they are commonly arranged along two or three adjacent strings and rarely on the A or low E. This “stripped,” upper-register approach allows the guitar to sit in the mix with other instruments clearly and effectively while leaving plenty of sonic space for the bass, keys, horns and/or another guitar to fill.

As you’ll see, when it comes to playing funk guitar, oftentimes less is more.  Ex. 2 presents, in the key of E, an assortment of useful funk-style partial chord voicings on the top three strings. Notice in each case that the E root note is not present, as the root is often played only by the bass in this style.

Wong will form each of these chord grips with a foundational partial barre across the top three strings at the 7th fret, as with the previously demonstrated five-note E9 chord. Here, however, the 1st finger is used for barring, rather than the 3rd, freeing up the other fingertips to fret various harmonic-melodic extensions on the G, B and high E strings. These partial chord variations will help you access an assortment of popular and useful funk rhythm guitar sounds. Once you’re familiar with this collection of partial chords, you can begin experimenting and creating a few basic riffs and short, repeating rhythm patterns that combine the chords in various combinations.

Ex. 3 is a repeating two-bar funk rhythm exercise that demonstrates some ways to mix and match these various partial chord types. As the example unfolds, notice the use of fret-hand muting (indicated by the Xs), how the 1st-finger barre slides from the 6th fret to the 7th and extends over to the D string for the single notes at the end of bar 2, and the way notes are added with the 3rd finger at the 9th fret on each of the strings during different beats.

You should also notice how “the three S’s of funk” are in play here. This kind of mixture of partial chords and single notes is very common in funk rhythm playing, and this figure illustrates the concept in detail.

A great example of this type of playing in Wong’s music can be heard in the ultra-funky track “Jax,” from his 2018 release, The Optimist. Ex. 4 offers a “scratch” rhythm figure similar to one Wong plays in the song and targets a bitingly dissonant Gm13 chord played in 10th position, which is the same Em13 grip we looked at in the previous example, shifted up three frets.

This one features what may be thought of as a “rhythm within a rhythm,” as the fretted chord strums create a syncopated accent pattern when interspersed among all the fret-hand muted scratches that surround them within the steady 16th-note down-up-down-up strum rhythm.

Also notice the way the long slide from 3rd position at the end of each bar nicely punctuates the phrasing with a brief iv-i chord change in the key of G minor (Cm13 to Gm13).

Another area of Wong’s funk chord-playing expertise includes his knack for employing chord fingerings that intentionally remove notes from full barre-chord forms to create sparser three-note “shell” voicings, as these often work better in many situations than strumming full barre chords, which can sound too thick and overbearing.

Ex. 5 illustrates two ways in which he’ll do this with 5th- and 6th-string-root chords, using two standard chord types, Em7 and B7. The Em7 chord in measure 1 is initially performed as a traditional five-note barre-chord fingering, as is the B7 chord in measure 3.

Each voicing is then followed by a sparser three-note variation that only includes the root, 7th and 3rd.

Notice the physical and visual similarity between the two sets of chord shapes and the way each fretted note shifts down to a lower string when moving from Em7 to B7. But due to the guitar’s asymmetrical tuning, the first two chords are minor 7s and the next two are dominant 7s. If you watch Cory perform, you’ll see him frequently using these kinds of sparse, wide-interval voicings.

To further demonstrate how to apply a few of these kinds of partial chords in a funk rhythm pattern, Ex. 6 presents a repeating two-chord vamp that challenges your fingers and brain, in terms of deciding how to finger each chord extension and reach the highest note with a minimal amount of stretching.

You’ll see that we’re essentially moving between B7 and E7 here – a I7–IV7 progression in the key of B major – with some bluesy hammer-ons and slippery double-stop slides applied to the foundational chord shapes. These kinds of embellishments are common in funk rhythm guitar playing and are a crucial element of Cory’s personal style.

It should be noted that, although Wong often employs sparse partial chords and shell voicings, he certainly isn’t a “chord slouch” and at times also uses traditional full-chord fingerings and voicings in his writing.

Ex. 7 outlines a jazz-influenced progression not unlike that heard in “Cosmic Sans,” from the guitarist’s 2019 solo album Motivational Music for the Syncopated Soul.

As you play through the sequence of chords in this example, notice that the progression includes several common four-note voicings and fingerings and how, when they’re strung together in this manner, they create a decidedly jazzy feel, although the underlying funk groove and laid-back flow of the song that informs them are very much in the funk style.

Another interesting aspect of Cory’s funk playing is the way he’ll use double-stops to harmonize a melody line in intervals of thirds and fourths. Ex. 8 offers a demonstration of this type of playing, inspired by “Side Step,” from his 2017 album, Cory Wong and the Green Screen Band.

Notice how the double-stops slide up the strings in a parallel manner while effectively outlining an underlying E–A chord change in a tastefully melodic way.

Also inspired by Wong’s riff writing style, Ex. 9 features a melodic motif that soulfully outlines a V7–IV7–I7 progression in the key of E major (B7–A7–E7) with a sequenced one-bar riff that’s built around double-stops and shifts down the neck as it is applied to each successive chord, using the same rhythmic phrasing and melodic contour each time.

Shared, or recycled, fingerings like this are of course found in other styles of guitar-driven music, but you’ll find this kind of “riff-relocation” occurring often in funk.

Our final offering, Ex. 10, illustrates another musical idea frequently heard in Cory’s playing – the use of double-stops and “scratch” strums with an eighth-note triplet rhythm and groove – and brings to mind a similar figure featured in his song “Companion Pass,” again from Motivational Music for the Syncopated Soul.

As you play through the phrase, notice the descent down and across the strings and the use of various double-stops with 4th and 3rd intervals based primarily on the C major pentatonic scale (C, D, E, G, A, intervallically spelled 1, 2, 3, 5, 6), with the addition of the 4th, F, which creates a C major hexatonic sound (C, D, E, F, G, A).

This kind of throaty double-stop triplet phrasing is another signature element of Cory’s playing and writing style, and you can also hear it in plenty of other musicians’ music too, in such genres as pop, soul, R&B, jazz and rock, as well as funk.

This glimpse into Cory Wong’s guitar playing style is by no means complete, as far as uncovering the various musical elements and surprises featured in his body of work. From intensely savage riffs and rhythms to jazzy textures and rock sounds, the talented musician can seemingly play whatever he wants.

At this stage of his career, he seems more than content reminding the listening public of how interesting and inspiring funk music can be while injecting his musical thumbprint and identity onto the style as his career progresses. Needless to say, if you’re unfamiliar with Cory Wong and his music, you have a lot of worthwhile listening to do. It’s a fun ride with plenty to see, hear and learn along the way.

In 1974, Jeff Beck found himself in a repeating cycle that rivaled the predicament of Bill Murray’s character, Phil, in the movie Groundhog Day.

After being booted from the Yardbirds in late November 1966, Beck formed three different bands – two iterations of the Jeff Beck Group, and the power trio Beck, Bogert & Appice – that enjoyed moderate popularity primarily as touring acts.

But no matter how much Beck varied his approach with the three bands, the outcome was always the same. Each managed to release two albums (in BBA’s instance a studio and a live album), but none of those records delivered any hits, and commercial success remained elusive.

All three groups lasted only a few years before Beck became frustrated or disinterested in the projects and moved on. Work on the second Beck, Bogert & Appice studio album began in January 1974, but that May, Beck pulled the plug before it was completed and disbanded the group.

The guitarist had grown tired of recycling the same old blues-rock riffs and licks he’d been playing for most of his career, and realized that he needed to make a radical shift in direction, if only to preserve his own sanity.

The music that excited him the most during this period came from the burgeoning jazz-rock fusion movement, and he soon found himself pulled in that direction. Following his fusion muse, Beck recorded Blow by Blow, his first entirely instrumental solo album, which was released in March 1975.

To Beck, his journey into jazz-rock fusion made perfect sense as he considered it a logical progression of rock music. “A handful of tapes knock me out,” he said in the November 1975 issue of Guitar Player, “things like Billy Cobham, Stanley Clarke – all the great rock and rollers. I call Billy Cobham a rock and roller because he’s so forceful. Rock’s an energy to me. It’s more complex now than it was, but it’s rock just the same.”

In addition to Cobham and Clarke, Beck was highly impressed with the work of his good friend guitarist John McLaughlin and his band, the Mahavishnu Orchestra, particularly their recently released album Apocalypse. Indeed, Beck’s decision to hire George Martin to produce Blow by Blow was influenced almost entirely by Martin’s work on that album, and not the producer’s legendary work only a few years earlier with the Beatles.

Beck entered London’s AIR Studios in October 1974 accompanied by keyboardist Max Middleton, his former bandmate in the second version of the Jeff Beck Group, and session players Phil Chen on bass and Richard Bailey on drums. Stevie Wonder, in addition to writing two songs Beck covered on the album – “Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers” and “Thelonius” – played clavinet on the latter.

“Blow by Blow marked an important change in my life,” Beck said in 1999. “I was exploring an entirely different direction, but it came together almost by accident. I always fed off of singers or guitar riffs before, but Max Middleton kept throwing these beautiful chords at me, and Stevie Wonder had come up with some beautiful melodies, so I had no choice but to follow them. It was like starting all over again, like I had never played the guitar before.”

Although Blow by Blow is hailed by many as a jazz-rock fusion classic, only a handful of songs on the album truly fit that description: “Freeway Jam,” “Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers” and the orchestral string section-accompanied songs that close each side of the album, “Scatterbrain” and “Diamond Dust.”

Jazz-funk fusion is a more accurate description, as funk plays a prominent role on most of the album, particularly Beck’s rhythm playing on “You Know What I Mean,” with its obvious nod to Jimmy Nolen’s scratchy chords on James Brown’s “Sex Machine,” Wonder’s low-down and dirty clavinet on “Thelonius,” and the relentless syncopated grooves of “Constipated Duck” and “Air Blower.”

With its reggae-inspired feel, the instrumental cover of the Beatles “She’s a Woman” is a bit of an outlier, but Beck’s expressive phrasing makes it fit in.

The funky feel of Blow by Blow was inspired by another often overlooked source, the band Upp, which Beck discovered in June 1973 while rehearsing for his appearance at David Bowie’s Hammersmith Odeon farewell concert.

When Beck heard the band jamming to some James Brown grooves in an adjacent room, he “kicked the door open” and introduced himself. Over the next year, he produced and played guitar on the band’s debut album, although his name didn’t appear in the credits.

Beck’s involvement with Upp became public knowledge when he performed with the band on the BBC’s Five Faces of the Guitar special recorded in August 1974 and broadcast the following month, only a few weeks before he started recording Blow by Blow.

The arrangement he performed of “She’s a Woman” is almost identical to that heard on the album, with the exception of the absence of Middleton’s keyboards. The gear that he used for the BBC broadcast – including his modified 1954 “Oxblood” Gibson Les Paul, an Ampeg VT-40 combo amp, Colorsound Overdriver, Cry Baby wah, ZB Custom volume pedal and Kustom “The Bag” talk box – was likely the main rig Beck played on the album.

He also used two Stratocasters – an early ’70s Olympic White model and one with a stripped-finish early ’60s body and mid-’70s rosewood neck – and his “Tele-Gib” 1959 Telecaster with two PAF humbuckers installed by Seymour Duncan, most famously employed for the Roy Buchanan-inspired performance of “Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers.”

Three singles from the album – “Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers,” “She’s a Woman” and “You Know What I Mean”– were released in Japan, the U.K. and the U.S., respectively, but all three failed to chart. However, the first two songs, along with “Freeway Jam,” received frequent airplay on FM radio, which helped the album quickly climb to a peak position of number four on the Billboard album chart and achieve RIAA Gold certification.

More than 10 years later, in 1986, Blow by Blow was certified Platinum.

By following his heart instead of prevailing trends, Beck was unexpectedly rewarded with his most commercially successful album ever. But Blow by Blow’s success was much bigger than sales figures. It earned him a new level of respect from his peers, fans and critics, and gave him more creative freedom to express himself with his guitar as the focal point instead of as an accompaniment to a vocalist.

Beck knew that Blow by Blow was going to be a hard act to follow, but it also wasn’t a fluke. Perhaps to absorb even more inspiration from John McLaughlin’s Mahavishnu Orchestra, he went on a co-headlining tour in 1975, where Beck’s band – featuring Middleton, drummer Bernard Purdie and bassist Wilbur Bascomb – and McLaughlin’s latest outfit traded opening slots.

Beck gained more than musical ideas from the venture as McLaughlin gave Beck an early ’60s Olympic White Stratocaster that was an upgrade from the ’70s model Beck had been playing for several years.

A nice Strat wasn’t all that Beck got from McLaughlin. When the Mahavishnu Orchestra broke up shortly after completing the Inner Worlds album, Beck poached drummer Narada Michael Walden to play on the sessions for his follow-up to Blow by Blow, replacing Richard Bailey who had already recorded two tracks – “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat” and “Head for Backstage Pass.”

Walden’s songwriting skills were as adept as his drumming, and he contributed four songs to the album later titled Wired – “Come Dancing,” “Sophie,” “Play With Me” and “Love Is Green” – and played piano on the latter.

Former Mahavishnu keyboardist Jan Hammer, who left the band in December 1973, also joined the sessions a few months after they initially got underway. In addition to Mahavishnu, Hammer had previously played on Billy Cobham’s Spectrum and Stanley Clarke’s eponymous sophomore solo album, so landing a musician who was heavily involved with all three of the artists Beck appreciated the most during that era was a major triumph. Hammer’s guitar-like synth lines profoundly inspired Beck’s tone and phrasing.

“[Jan Hammer] gave me a new, exciting look into the future,” Beck told Guitar Player in a 1975 interview after the release of Blow by Blow, but before he joined forces with the keyboardist. “He plays the Moog a lot like a guitar, and his sounds went straight into me. So I started playing like him. I didn’t sound like him, but his phrases influenced me immensely.”

“We were very, very similar, even though we were coming from opposite ends of the musical universe,” Hammer said in a 2020 interview. “He was a rock icon, a rock and roll giant, and I was a pretty well-known modern-jazz musician, but I was trying to get more into rock and he was trying to get more into jazz. We met right in the middle. That’s why our collaboration worked so well.”

George Martin returned once again to produce Wired, but this time around he saw no need to add flourishes like orchestral strings and instead let the band’s performances and arrangements stand on their own. Most of the songs were recorded with musicians playing together live in the studio, recording multiple takes until Beck and Martin were satisfied with the performances and arrangement.

However, Beck repeatedly second-guessed his own work throughout the project. “I was never happy with the solo on ‘Goodbye Pork Pie Hat,’ the Mingus tune,” Beck told Rolling Stone. “I rang George up and said, ‘I’ve got a great idea to modulate that,’ and he said, ‘The album’s been out for two weeks!’ That’s how loose things were back then.”

Martin produced the entire Wired album with the exception of the song “Blue Wind.” That track was recorded at Hammer’s studio in upstate New York over a period of about a week when Beck traveled there to talk the keyboardist into working on the album. Beck and Hammer performed dueling solos throughout the song, and Hammer provided all of the accompaniment, including the driving bass line and drums.

Wired was decidedly heavier than Blow by Blow, with Max Middleton’s riff-driven homage to Led Zeppelin, “Led Boots,” kicking off the album, and most of the songs having faster tempos and more aggressive arrangements. This time around, the funk elements, while still present, were toned down and less prominent.

Beck’s version of the Charles Mingus composition “Goodbye Pork Pie Hat” was a bona fide jazz performance, although his bluesy, slow-tempo approach was more obviously inspired by the acoustic version John McLaughlin recorded in 1971 than the original 1959 Mingus recording. As a result, Wired was more of a true jazz-rock fusion effort than its predecessor, and it inspired the sound and dynamics of numerous jazz-rock albums that came out afterward in the late ’70s.

Although Wired did not enjoy the same level of commercial success as Blow by Blow, reaching a peak position of number 16 on the Billboard album chart, it sold well and earned Platinum certification. More importantly, Wired proved that Blow by Blow’s success was not a fluke, and the one-two punch of those stellar efforts established Beck’s status as one of the world’s greatest guitarists – a standing that endured throughout his career.

His previous work with the Yardbirds was certainly revolutionary, but his foray into jazz-rock fusion delivered performances that were more timeless and lasting, earning him both lifelong fans and well-deserved respect for his tone, touch and taste.

“The guitar is the most personal instrument of them all,” says Randy Bachman. “It’s right against your heart and soul.”

What’s more, every guitar tells a story. And with over 80 of the Guess Who and Bachman-Turner Overdrive founder’s instruments on display at Calgary’s Studio Bell from May 5, fans and six-string aficionados are in for a treat.

“This exhibition will give my fans a sense of how my love – and obsession – for guitars began and evolved,” continues Bachman. “Since I picked up a guitar for the first time, it’s been hard to put down. 

"This is the largest exhibition from my personal collection that I’ve ever shared, and I’m so happy to bring it to Studio Bell, home of the National Music Centre.”

“We have been calling 2023 ‘The Year of the Guitar’ at National Music Centre and this exhibition is the centerpiece of everything,” said Andrew Mosker, NMC’s President and CEO. “National Music Centre has been collaborating with Randy for many years to bring this exhibition to life, so to see his vision finally realized is just fantastic.

“Randy’s insightful storytelling, legendary status as a Hall of Fame artist, and the sheer magnitude of his collection is really going to blow our visitors away.”

Throughout the exhibition, Canadian Music Hall of Fame and Songwriters Hall of Fame member Bachman tells his story of a life in music.

From his earliest guitar-playing endeavors to the height of rock stardom with the Guess Who and Bachman-Turner Overdrive, the stories behind this epic collection are as compelling as the instruments themselves.

Some of the highlights from the Randy Bachman: Every Guitar Tells a Story exhibition include a pair of Fender Stratocasters that were used on numerous Bachman-Turner Overdrive recordings.

Bachman connected with the rosewood ‘board 1968 model pictured above (referred to as “the B.T.O. Guitar” or "old reliable" by the guitarist) when his chiropractor recommended getting a lighter alternative to his ten-pound 1959 Gibson Les Paul Standard.

Along with Bachman’s 1954 Stratocaster (also pictured above) this helped him achieve his distinctive sound. Speaking of the ’54 Strat, he said, “Playing this with the ’68 Strat gave ‘Let It Ride’ that incredible jingle jangle that just lifted it off the turntable.”

Also on display is Bachman’s iconic “American Woman” Gibson Les Paul Standard that was acquired in the early days of the Guess Who and famously features on the band’s 1970 number one Billboard smash.

So the story goes, Bachman obtained the guitar at a Guess Who basement gig in Nanaimo, B.C. when a fan offered him a trade. Before long, the ‘Burst became his favorite guitar of all, appearing on a number of the Guess Who tracks including “These Eyes” and “No Time.”

Also featured in the Randy Bachman: Every Guitar Tells a Story exhibition is Bachman’s infamous 1957 Gretsch 6120 Chet Atkins Hollow Body that was stolen in 1976 from a hotel in the Toronto area and miraculously recovered several decades later (in Tokyo, Japan!)

Kicking off this historic event with a truly personal touch, NMC are due to host a live conversation with Randy Bachman on May 4 at 7:30pm.

Click here to purchase tickets.

When asked in 2018 why he thought the 1960s created so many great blues guitarists – including himself, Eric Clapton and Jimmy Page – Jeff Beck had a ready response that reached high, deep and wide.

“We were down on our luck until the blues arrived,” he replied. “And it became natural music for us. We became disciples. We had to discover more. Anyone who ever had the slightest fascination with music had to find out what that sound was and where it came from. Me, Eric and Jimmy Page were stricken to the soul. We were obsessed. Thank God we were.”

For Jeff Beck, the blues was just one part of a lifelong journey that encompassed rock and roll, fusion, soul, instrumental and electronica.

Deeply curious, innately inventive, he followed his muse where it led him. The first stringed instrument to arouse his interest was the zither, as heard in the theme song for the 1949 British film noir The Third Man. Anton Karas’s haunting title composition was an international hit that year, a tune that rang in his five-year-old ears.

“The people next-door-but-one had a zither, and that was actually the first stringed instrument that I touched,” Beck revealed to Jamie Crompton in Guitarist’s 2009 cover story. “There’s a scoop for you.”

It was shortly afterward, at the age of six, that he first heard the electric guitar. Les Paul and Mary Ford’s 1951 hit “How High the Moon” was playing on the radio, and Paul’s layered guitars, slathered with slapback echo, caught his ears. “What’s that sound?” he asked his mother. “An electric guitar,” she replied. From that point on, he was all in.

Years later, “The Third Man Theme” would be the first thing Beck attempted to pick out when he played a guitar. But it took years before he actually had the instrument in his hands. “My mum wanted me to learn piano, as learning the guitar was just not done,” Beck said. “I used to spend the money for piano class on model airplanes and mark my own books to make it look like I was going to lessons.”

With the help of an uncle he tried his hand at violin, but his efforts were no better. “It sounded so murderous that he switched me to cello, which is an instrument that I love,” Beck revealed. “I started plucking it because I didn’t get on with bowing, and he just stopped me and said, ‘Get out.’ No patience at all.”

Beck’s fascination with guitar – like that of all guitarists born toward the end of World War II – follows the instrument’s arc in popular culture. He was born Geoffrey Arnold Beck on June 24, 1944, to Arnold and Ethel Beck. The family lived at 206 Demesne Road, Wallington, some 10 miles south of London. He had one sister, Annetta, born some four years before. Music was a big feature of their house. Ethel played piano, and her baby grand was displayed in the family’s living room. “My mum played beautifully,” Beck told Guitarist.

As he could best remember, his first experience with guitar took place around the age of 12 or 13, in 1956 or 1957. “I was at a friend’s house who was slightly spoiled,” he told Crompton. “He had a record player, a tape recorder, a guitar – all the toys.” The guitar was unloved, evident by the absence of several strings. “I started playing around with it and he said, ‘Do you wanna borrow it?’ I said, ‘Yes please!’

I remember carrying it home in the rain and taking my coat off to wrap around it to protect it. Right then, I felt a kind of protective thing towards the guitar.” With no access to guitar strings, Beck replaced the missing ones with the control-line wire from a motorized model airplane, “the kind that made the model fly round in circles,” he said.

While his parents tried to direct their son’s interests to Andrés Segovia and Django Reinhardt, Beck was, like most kids his age, drawn to the emerging strains of rock and roll. Between his sister’s growing record collection and the nightly pop broadcasts on Radio Luxembourg, he developed an aficionado’s appreciation for the raft of guitar players in that early rock and roll era.

But it was the 1957 comedy musical film The Girl Can’t Help It that made the strongest impression on him. The movie featured cameos by Little Richard, Eddie Cochran, Fats Domino and the Platters. But it was Gene Vincent and the Blue Caps’ mimed performance of their hit “Be-Bop-a-Lula” that most deeply affected Beck. In particular, he was taken by the playing of Vincent’s guitarist, Cliff Gallup.

Though he had left Vincent by the time the film was released, Gallup cut some 35 sides with the singer, and Beck quickly set about finding every one of them. “I knew then that I wanted to play the lead guitar breaks,” Beck said, “the fiery stuff like Cliff Gallup. I didn’t just want to be a strummer.”

While Gallup influenced his interest in the guitar as a lead instrument, Buddy Holly helped him set his eyes on owning a Fender Stratocaster. Fenders were not available in England, and Beck couldn’t have afforded one anyway. So he enlisted his neighbor, a handyman named Jack, to build him a Strat copy for five pounds. Neither Beck nor Jack knew anything about scale lengths or fret placements, which were crudely approximated.

The results were far from perfect, but the instrument intonated well enough when capoed at the fifth fret, and Beck learned he could bend any flat notes to pitch – shades of things to come.

He had yet to pay Jack when he gave his first performance at a local youth club with another boy playing a cello as a substitute for a stand-up bass. Their appearance went over well and even got a positive mention in the local paper. But Jack was in the audience and sore about the money he was owed. “[He] made a complete twat out of me by telling everyone that I hadn’t paid him for it,” Beck recalled. “Five quid! I’d just been the belle of the ball and he said, ‘Right, I’m going to tell you all about your mate Jeff – you owe me five quid, ya cheapskate bastard!’ I thought, Right, for that, you won’t get the money!”

By the middle of 1960, Beck was finally in possession of a proper guitar, a Guyatone LG-50, and playing in his first band, having joined the Bandits, an instrumental act that was supporting Elvis Presley and Gene Vincent impersonators on a U.K. summer tour. “I was speaking to Hank Marvin about this recently and he played a similar one,” Beck told Guitarist in 2009. It had purfling around the body and a maple veneer, so it wasn’t such a bad old thing. It was about 25 pounds. Proper money when you haven’t got 25 pence!”

By this point, Beck, all of 16, had begun to attend Wimbledon College, an art school similar to those that became destinations for John Lennon, Pete Townshend, David Bowie and other musicians attempting to delay their entry into working-class society. “They had good meals” was about all Beck could say about his time there.

His true desire was to land a spot performing with a working band. The Deltones were a semi-pro local covers band, with players in their 20s, slightly older than Beck. He liked their sound and, as it happened, had known their guitarist Ian Duncombe, who, like Beck, was a Cliff Gallup disciple. Beck began sitting in on rehearsals and, when Duncombe announced he was leaving, asked to take his spot. An audition was arranged at which Beck showed up with his latest acquisition: a Burns Vibra-Artiste with a translucent cherry red finish and three Trisonic pickups – although Beck recalled the guitar as having “about six pickups and a hundred knobs on it. I never knew what any of them did.”

Beck won the audition, but that wasn’t enough for him. He insisted that his longtime friend John Owen accompany him on rhythm guitar. Either due to Beck’s talents or the Deltones’ lack of options, they agreed to the arrangement. As it happened, Owen had a white Fender Telecaster, and Beck managed to convince him to swap, as the Tele would be a more appropriate lead instrument. It worked, for a time, but when Owen reclaimed the guitar, Beck was stuck again with his Burns.

But with Fender guitars now available in England, he set his sights on owning one. “Me and a friend got a train and a bus up to London from Croydon and we asked a porter where all the guitars were,” he recalled.

“He happened to know and said Charing Cross Road, so we jumped on a bus, ran upstairs and looked out the window for guitar stores. My mate suddenly said, ‘Oh my God!’ We belted down the stairs, stumbling over one another, ran in front of all the traffic and there we found a Tele and a Strat in the window of Jennings Musical Instruments,” he said, referring to the original Vox Amplifier Shop, at 100 Charing Cross Road. “We stood there motionless, salivating, for at least five minutes and my mate said, ‘Shall we go in?’ I said, ‘No, no we can’t go in!’ We were completely freaked out.

“After a while we went in, and I said, ‘I’d like to try the Fender Stratocaster please,’ and the guy said, ‘Yes gentlemen, certainly, sir, you are intending to buy it, are you?’ We didn’t have a pot to piss in but we said, ‘Yeah, yeah.’

“Another shop in Charing Cross Road we used to bug was called Lew Davis. There we discovered a slap-back echo device” – most likely a Binson Echorec – “and we were in heaven. We made friends with a sales guy who used to let us play any guitar in the shop. He was great, he’d leave us alone and say, ‘Just don’t nick anything! We never did, and they couldn’t get rid of us.’ Then some 15-year-old kid would come in and his dad would buy him a Strat outright for cash. Case and all! Strap, strings, pick… We’d sit there scowling.”

Determined to get a Strat for himself, Beck appealed to his mother for the £147 required. She agreed to pay a deposit, allowing him to take possession of the instrument on credit. Now duly in debt, Beck quit art school to become a full-time working musician.

On May 22, 1961, he left Wimbledon College just in time for the Deltones to splinter. He briefly worked with Gene Vincent imitator Gordon Paterson, who performed under the nom de plume Cal Danger, and joined Deltones singer Johnny Del in his new group, the Crescents. But musically he was rudderless.

He found a direction in 1963 courtesy of a friend, Ian Stewart. A pianist, Stewart was a founding member of the Rolling Stones, who had become stars of London’s Marquee Club, in Oxford Street. Since 1962, the venue had been the home of Blues Incorporated, the seminal blues act founded by Alexis Korner and Cyril Davies, who brought the songs and sounds of the Mississippi Delta to England.

Stewart loaned Beck a cartload of blues albums, including Folk Festival of the Blues, a compendium of Chicago’s electric blues scene that featured key figures like Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Sonny Boy Williamson and Buddy Guy. “I just wore out the album,” Beck said. He was particularly moved by Guy’s prowess on his Fender Strat. “It was total manic abandon that broke all the boundaries. Long, developing solos, just the opposite of all the pop stuff at the time.”

As he’d done with Cliff Gallup, Beck made exhaustive work studying the electric blues guitar greats, developing new skills and techniques. He put together the Nightshift, a blues act that played some of the music’s hot spots, including Eel Pie Island – a former trad-jazz spot that had shifted its musical affiliation with the emerging blues boom – and was even contacted by John Mayall as he was putting together the Bluesbreakers. In the end, Beck ended up with the Tridents, a blues act led by brothers John and Paul Lucas and which the Nightshift had supported at Eel Pie Island.

As a document of this period, the Tridents’ 1964 live Eel Pie recording of “Nursery Rhyme,” from the 1991 Beckology compilation, reveals the guitarist’s gifts with hammer-ons and pull-offs, trills,

It was September 1964, and it’s here that Jeff Beck the guitar hero begins to emerge. By this point he was playing a white Fender Telecaster through a Vox AC30 Top Boost, supplemented by a Binson Echorec, which he used to create spontaneous freak-outs, as well as an early homemade fuzz box.

“There wasn’t an ounce of musical sense to it,” he said in the liner notes, “but they loved it because it was different.”

It was a lesson that would serve him well for years to come.