Earlier this year, Sammy Hagar claimed that he’d written his latest single in a dream with the late Eddie Van Halen. The story met with bucketloads of skepticism by many, but it turns out Hagar isn’t the only musician to have received contact from the dead.

“I get visitations from Miles Davis sometimes, as well as B.B. King,” Carlos Santana says in a new, eye-opening interview with Guitar World. “Sometimes a dream is not a dream; someone has come back to communicate with you.”

That was the case, he believes, when Stevie Ray Vaughan entered his dreamscapes from beyond the grave.

“He was saying, ‘Carlos, where I am, I don’t have any fingers; I am only spirit.’ He missed putting his fingers on a guitar and making the speakers push air,” Santana recalls of his supernatural visitation. “He told me to call his brother Jimmie and ask him to lend me his amp, the #007 Dumble, and then play it with a Strat so he could feel it through me.

“You know that Ghost movie with Whoopi Goldberg?” he asks. “There’s a part where a ghost comes into her body so he can feel. That’s what Stevie was doing. He wanted to utilize my body and hands because he missed playing guitar.”

More cynical readers may view this tale as a rather elaborate plan to get his hands on one of the most coveted amps in history. It’s safe to say Jimmie Vaughan wasn’t completely sold at first, either. In fact, it was only after SRV’s guitar tech, René Martinez, revealed he’d had the same dream that Jimmie relinquished possession of the historic tube amp.

“The last person to borrow it was John Mayer,” Santana says. “Let’s just say Jimmie doesn’t loan that thing out very easily.”

As for the amp? Carlos says, “[It] sounded like everything I love about Peter Green when he played a certain kind of heavenly blues.”

Pressed for more recollections of the amp’s tones, the Mexican guitarist thinks back to a conversation he once had with his mother.

“She once asked me, ‘Mijo, do you like Whitney Houston?’ and I said, ‘Of course,’” he begins. “She then told me that when Whitney sang, her voice would become a legion of angels. I think my mom knew what she was talking about. Sometimes when you play, you channel things.

“I feel like I’m like [John F. Kennedy International Airport] and all these musicians are landing on me and sharing things,” he adds of his clairvoyant abilities. “I have to figure out what it all means.”

For a time, SRV's other famed Dumble amp, the Dumbleland 300 SL that dominated the Texas Flood sessions, was under the care of Ben Harper. Then he found a Dumble of his own at a yard sale, and when following the rite of passage of asking Alexander Dumble for permission to use the amp, the near-mythical amp builder uncovered its unlikely back story.

In related news, Santana has recalled the time he ignited the strangest of feuds with Gene Simmons. He’s also discussed details of his 1999 album, Supernatural, the record that finally saw him give Tube Screamers a try, and he's revealed who convinced him to do it.

Does the wood choice of a fretboard really impact a guitar’s tone? Ask big-name players like Joe Bonamassa and Joe Satriani and they’ll give you passionate reasons for why they lean on either side of the long-raging debate.

Ask Jimmie Vaughan and he’ll tell you it doesn’t make one iota of difference either way. And he’ll point to his late brother for proof.

Today, as manufacturer’s look for alternatives to dwindling supplies, fingerboards can be made out of a huge variety of woods. Pau ferro, laurel and wenge have since come to the fore, alongside Richlite, an ebony-like material made from paper and found on builds from Aristides and GOC.

Regardless of the growing options, fingerboard woods can fall quite naturally into light and dark categories. For many, a rosewood fretboard offers comfort and warmth, while a maple neck supposedly offers greater note clarity.

Joe Satriani veers away from maple, believing it isn't a consistent wood, and opts for rosewood in his Ibanez signature guitars.

“Say you bring eight guitars on tour, getting all the maple-neck guitars,” he said last year. “It is just a piece of wood. It grows out of the ground and Mother Nature decides what's it gonna sound like.

“I owned a '54 Strat, and I loved it. It had a maple neck, and I thought it was the greatest guitar, but I did not have a job then where I had to play melodies and solos nonstop for two and a half hours. And so, this job of being a solo artist has changed my needs as a guitar player.”

Joe Bonamassa, meanwhile, is firmly in the maple camp. Writing in his Guitar World column in 2023, he said “one can argue that a rosewood ’board results in more of a Stevie Ray Vaughan-type sound,” but added, “I always refer to maple-neck Strats as the 'Buddy Holly' guitar, and great players such as Eric Johnson, Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix are also well known for playing maple-neck Strats.

“To my ears, the notes jump off it in a different way, as compared to a rosewood ’board.”

Although Bonamassa believes rosewood ‘boards are responsible for SRV-type tones, the Vaughan family seemingly aren’t as quick to make that connection.

Discussing all things gear and tonewoods with Guitar World in a new interview, Jimmie Vaughan spotlighted his prized 1963 Fender Stratocaster. It had a maple neck with a rosewood fretboard, but he swapped it out for a maple neck and didn't notice a difference between the two.

“The body is from a ’63 Strat, but the neck is one [Austin blues guitarist] Bill [Campbell,] gave to me, so I guess it’s kind of a ‘parts’ guitar,” he says of its Frankenstein nature. “It was really put together by Charley’s Guitar Shop in Dallas and René Martinez, who was a fantastic guitar tech.”

And it turns out his reasons for swapping the neck out weren’t tonal.

“I’d wanted a white Strat for years; it felt like it was unobtainable when I was a kid,” he sighs. “I remember seeing Gene Vincent and the Blue Caps in an old movie, and they all had white Strats with the maple neck. I just thought it looked better than the dark rosewood, so I replaced it.

“I know there are people who think it makes a big difference to the sound, but I really don’t think it does,” he adds. “I know Stevie always sounded the same whether it was a rosewood or maple neck.”

The debate extends beyond the realms of the Strat too, with Jason Isbell, the current owner of Ed King's legendary “Red Eye” Les Paul, believing rosewood is “more forgiving,” when it comes to Telecasters and that they “soften things up a little.”

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

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

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

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

"Ohio" — Dan Auerbach (Black Keys)

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

"Deep Feeling" — Chuck Berry

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

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

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

"Red Dog Speaks" — Elvin Bishop

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

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

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

"Blues Deluxe" — Joe Bonamassa

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

"Cry" — Doyle Bramhall II

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

"Okle Dokie Stomp" — Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown

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

"John's Blues" — Roy Buchanan

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

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

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

"Feelin' Bad Blues" — Ry Cooder

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

"Chicken in the Kitchen" — Robert Cray

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

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

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

"Blues After Hours" — Hollywood Fats

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

"Prison of Love" — Robben Ford

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

"The Change in Me" — Eric Gales

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

"Bullfrog Blues" — Rory Gallagher

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

"Please Send Me Someone to Love" — Amos Garrett

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

"Blues Newburg" — Danny Gatton

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

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

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

"The Blue" — David Gilmour

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

"Lonesome Dave" — David Grissom

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

"How Blue Can You Get" — Jeff Healey

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

"Blue Guitar" — Earl Hooker

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

"It Hurts Me Too" — Elmore James

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

"Texas" — Eric Johnson

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

"Playing Around" — Lonnie Johnson

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

"Born into This" — Wilson T. King

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

"Chief's Blues" — Greg Koch

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

"Wind In Denver" — Sonny Landreth

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

"A Quitter Never Wins" — Jonny Lang

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

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

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

"Out of My Mind" — John Mayer

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

"Still Got the Blues" — Gary Moore

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

"Steroids" — Oz Noy

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

"Three Time Loser" — Bonnie Raitt

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

"Greasy Kid Stuff" — Kid Ramos

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

"It's My Own Fault" — Otis Rush

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

"Blues for Salvador" — Carlos Santana

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

"Blue on Black" — Kenny Wayne Shepherd

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

"Three Hundred Pounds of Joy” — Hubert Sumlin

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

"Wild About You Baby" — Hound Dog Taylor

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

"Slow Blues" — Mick Taylor

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

"Jesus Is Everywhere" — Sister Rosetta Tharpe

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

"Whisky Train" — Robin Tower (Procol Harum)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Call It Stormy Monday" — T-Bone Walker

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

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

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

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.”

Taking place the night after the inauguration of the 41st POTUS, George H. W. Bush, on January 21, 1989, the Presidential Inauguration Concert was exactly what it sounds like — but on this evening, politics took a back seat to pure musical talent.

The black-tie event was held at the Washington Convention Center and featured a whole host of rhythm and blues and soul's finest, including Bo Diddley, Chuck Jackson, Willie Dixon, Sam Moore, Delbert McClinton, Carla Thomas and Billy Preston. However, the highlight of the night was arguably the closing set from Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble, who drafted in some additional firepower in the form of Stevie's older brother, Jimmie Vaughan and blues legend Albert Collins.

Following an introduction of, "Ladies and gentlemen, the master of the Telecaster! Texas' own Albert Collins," the Texas blues trio launched into a high-octane performance of Frosty — the opening track from Collins's 1965 debut, The Cool Sound of Albert Collins. The 'Iceman' cut a familiar figure onstage with his signature oversized guitar strap on his right shoulder, a capo in place, and a fiery opening blues lick.

There's some tasty playing from the Vaughan brothers and Collins throughout the upbeat instrumental in E flat, as you'd expect with Stevie putting his Number One Strat through its paces. However, special credit has to be given to Reese Wynans for holding the fort harmonically on the Hammond organ while Collins literally goes for a walk to somewhat comical effect towards the song's conclusion.

Although Collins only sticks around for one of the tracks, the video clip also features some stand-out renditions of SRV staples "Texas Flood" and "Lovestruck Baby," as well as the reimagined Stevie Wonder classic "Superstition." Be sure not to miss the closing performance of "Scuttle Buttin'," either. Though it's largely curtailed due to Stevie breaking a string in the opening eight bars — always the ultimate professional, seeing him coolly switching guitars before the song's lighting-fast conclusion is worth the price of admission alone.

The story goes that this footage was thought to be long lost for over twenty years; however, around 2014, it was rediscovered, restored, remixed, and finally broadcast for the first time — as well as being available on DVD as A Celebration of Blues & Soul: The 1989 Presidential Inaugural Concert.

Regularly integrating Collins's material into his setlist from as early as the late 1970s, Stevie Ray Vaughan was never shy about paying tribute to those who paved the way for him musically whenever he could, telling Guitar World in 1988 that guys like Collins — along with Albert King, Otis Rush, and B.B. King — "are the ones who really ought to have the recognition," before humbly adding that he considers himself "just another Texas blues guitarist."

Before introducing the penultimate track of the night, Vaughan told the crowd, "It's a real pleasure to be here with you all. To be able to be here with my family and friends, it means a lot to me... 'cause this is a special year for me too, you see?"

It proved to be, with In Step — his first studio album in four years and the first since finding sobriety — being released in June of that year to universal acclaim. Unfortunately, this would be the last to be released before his death the following year, in August of 1990.

Back in 1998, Guitar Player caught up with Jimmie Vaughan following the recording of his maverick solo album Out There. The following interview originally appeared in the July 1998 issue of Guitar Player.

To hardcore fans, Jimmie Vaughan is a virtual deity -- a living legend with a guitar style so deep that it defies description. Since emerging in the Fabulous Thunderbirds 23 years ago, Vaughan has walked the long walk and earned the respect of blues superstars such as B.B. King, Buddy Guy, and Eric Clapton. He has spun his signature licks in dives and stadiums, shared a bill with Jimi Hendrix, and toured the world with Clapton, ZZ Top, and the Rolling Stones. Not bad for a guy who traded high school for an endless stream of roadhouse gigs.

During his tenure with the T-Birds, Vaughan developed a wicked guitar style that would eventually evolve into using a capo and plucking the strings – some call it digging – with his forefinger. After all but disappearing from public view following brother Stevie Ray's death on August 27, 1990 (soon after the two had united for the highly acclaimed Family Style), Vaughan re-emerged in 1995 with his first solo album, Strange Pleasure. To the delight of worshippers of all things Vaughan, Jimmie was squarely on the scene again.

His latest release, Out There, is a swampfest of greasy grooves and maverick guitar playing, and underscores the Texan's knack for pulling rabbits out of some very old blues hats. During a recent conversation with Vaughan, he offered GP readers some insights into how he does what he does onstage and in the studio.

Out There really has a classic, old-school vibe. How did you get that blend of funk and finesse?

I like fat tones, and I try to use the best of the old and the best of the new. The whole album was recorded digitally. All that stuff about having to use tape – that's all bullshit to me. You just have to use the right limiters and mic preamps. If you put this album on any kind of stereo and turn it up, it sounds badass – at least to me. It's a bit out of tune, which gives it that little edge and dissonance. We didn't deliberately get out of tune, though.

You made a big instrumental change by having an organ play the bass parts.

Well, it was just a teenage fantasy. I've always loved the organ trio stuff. And I've always loved the Hammond B-3. The sound of it just rips your guts out. It's all wood and tubes, and it's got so much feeling. I wanted to have that behind me because I knew it would make me want to play guitar.

It sure makes the guitars stand out.

Yeah, because you can hear the bass drum go "boom." You can hear the whole drum kit, because there's no bass guitar covering up everything. You hear bass from the organ, but it's more of a hmmm – it doesn't have the attack of a bass guitar.

Has your recording process changed much since the Thunderbirds?

No, it really hasn't. Back with the Thunderbirds we got our sound by using the room. Instead of recording the signal and putting an effect on it to make it sound good, we moved the microphones away from the amps and the drums. There's almost no reverb or echo or anything on this record. For the most part, it was mixed by just setting the fader levels.

That's really how I get a good guitar tone. It's the room. Now I'm giving away all my little secrets. It's also the amp and the guitar, of course, but you record everything where there's enough room for the sound to breathe. You don't put the mic right up on the speaker. This is the same way I've recorded every record I've made -- the ones that sounded good, anyway [laughs]. You can go too far with that room sound, though. It can sound like you're out in the street or something.

Do you cut rhythm tracks with the whole band?

That's exactly what we do. I overdub a lot of my guitar parts, but I'll go in and play with the band because everybody gets excited and we start playing off each other. Then, I'll come back and sing it and play it, and fix whatever we have to. In the old days, you'd just do the song 20 times and pick the best take -- which is a very good idea. I'd like to do that again someday.

Were you the only guitar player on the record?

Yeah, except for "Feel Like a King." That's Nile Rodgers playing rhythm guitar. He wrote and produced that song.

Your voice sounds especially warm and rich on this record. In fact, the signal seems like it was pushed into overload.

Yeah, we're not past distorting the shit out of something if it sounds good. You want everything to sound like it's fixin' to explode. Just almost, though, not already exploded. [Laughs.]

Have you found any particular mics that work best for your voice?

No. I just set up a bunch of mics and sing into 'em until it sounds right. Whichever one sounds best, that's the one we go for. It's pretty difficult for me because I'm just a guitar player who's learning to sing.

You're being humble. In "Lost in You," there are moments where you almost sound like Al Green.

Well, thank you. Maybe the chord changes sort of remind you of that. Al Green is a phenomenal singer. He's like Mister Vocal, and I'm sort of urping it out. I'm getting more confident, though. The singing on this record is a lot better for me than it was on Strange Pleasure. Likewise, on Family Style -- which was the first time I ever sang -- it was pretty close to horrible, but it was fun.

"Tick Tock" was pretty tingling.

But, see, I only talked on that. Stevie sang that one. I always wanted to sing, but I was scared. Then I got backed into a corner and I had to do it. I can't sing like Bobby Blue Bland, Buddy Guy, or B.B. King, but if I sing like me, then it's okay.

Getting back to guitar -- once you've cut your rhythm tracks, do you move your amp to another room for overdubs?

No, it's the same room. We just set up a close mic and a room mic, and we can get any kind of sound by turning up the level of one mic or the other.

Does a close-mic position work better for rhythm parts?

Yeah. But there's only "Out There," "Kinky Woman," and "The New Ironic Twist" where I play a little rhythm thing in the background. Mostly, it's just lead stuff. I sort of think of my guitar as a saxophone, and I play it that way.

You started using a capo some time ago. How does it affect your playing?

I started doing that on the third Thunderbirds album. I wouldn't do it all the time, but I started using it more and more. See, I'm always in E, and I've got all those open strings. It just makes me think different. It's bluesier to me. When I play with a pick and without a capo, I have a tendency to go right over to B.B. King's or Buddy Guy's house. I can't help it because that's the way I learned. But when I use the capo, I think I sound more like me.

So you're moving the capo around a lot.

I just put it where it sounds right. On "Astral Projection Blues," the song starts with the capo in F and ends up with it in G. I actually move it right in the middle. You can almost hear it go "clunk."

You employ it a lot differently from, say, Albert Collins -- who used an Fm tuning and regularly capoed at the seventh fret.

He was completely on his own planet. Mine is sort of that Houston, Gulf Coast style of Guitar Slim, Gatemouth Brown, and Johnny Watson. Another guy who uses a capo is Lonnie Mack.

Your playing seems to get wilder all the time.

I like wild. Wild is good.

How did your style evolve?

Well, I've been at it for a long time, and I've copied all my heroes. When I first started, it was B.B. King and Buddy Guy. I was just a student, and I tried to learn what they were doing because I couldn't believe the sounds they were getting. I bought every B.B. King record I could get, and I'd sit there and learn the intro, the solos, the ending, and all his little licks in between. You know, I'd just play along with it and try to copy what he was doing. Same thing with Eric Clapton.

What made you choose a Strat?

It was just the whole Fender thing because I use Teles too. When I was a kid, I used to ride the bus downtown on Saturdays and just look in the window at Stratocasters, Telecasters, and Gibson SGs. I'd think, "I'll never be able to have one." I don't know how it happened, but, over the years, I just became aware of what I wanted to hear, and I tried to get that. I've narrowed it down to what works and what doesn't work, and what works is getting that fat tone on a Fender guitar – which is not necessarily known for that.

So, how do you get that sound?

It's not really any trick. You just turn the amp up and use your fingers to get a good guitar sound. I like the treble pickup because it has a pure tone without a lot of overtones. It almost sounds like a steel guitar, you know? That's what my tone is -- it's always the treble pickup. But you can say different things tonewise by where you pick. For example, depending on where I pick the string – closer to the bridge or farther away from the bridge – and whether I use a pick or a finger is sort of like my three pickups. We're gettin' pretty deep now. [Laughs.]

You've always gone for maple fretboards.

I don't think it makes any difference. I mean, Stevie used maple and rosewood, but he got the same sound. I think it's just whatever you like. I just always liked to look at the maple. It's cool. It looks like Gene Vincent. You know that famous picture of the Blue Caps with all the Mary Kay guitars? ["Mary Kay" is a common term for the white-blond, translucent finish used on some ash-bodied Fenders.] I look at that picture and go "Man, look at that!" It's just what I got used to, because my first Strat was a '58 maple-neck.

Have you experimented with different pickups?

Yeah, a little bit. But I always ended up back with the stock pickups. See, I like my guitars to be pretty much stock -- there's nothing on my guitars that's not pretty regular. You're going to think I'm kidding, but I used my Fender Tex Mex Strat on this record. The only difference is that its treble pickup is a little hotter than standard. I guess they put more winding on it, but I don't know. They all come that way. I used my old Strat on "Kinky Woman" -- my old white one -- and I used a '54 reissue Strat on "Astral Projection Blues." But the rest of it is the Tex Mex.

How do you adjust your pickups?

I don't know if this is good advice for anybody else, but I raise up my treble side and lower the bass side. It just seems more balanced that way -- you know, the ratio of the volume between the treble strings and the bass strings. But I really just want the treble to just blow the shit out of it. Now, if you get the pickup too close it'll start making a beating sound. One thing I do that I don't think nobody else does is raise my action up real high. I don't necessarily use big strings, but I have the action up pretty high so that my strings really ring. I know Fenders were designed to play really easy, but I like it when you've got something to hold on to.

Your guitars feel like they're strung with .010s or .011s.

That's about right. Some guitars feel tighter than others. I go to it guitar by guitar, but usually I end up with just a regular set of .010s. If I go on tour and start playing hard every night, I'll move up to .011s because I'm getting stronger.

Do you prefer any particular brand?

I use D'Addario.

Do you always keep your trem bridge flat against the body?

Yeah, and I've got all the springs on. That's the way my Tex Mex and old white are set up. I don't really even use the thing. I like it, though, and occasionally I might do something with it.

How important is a guitar's weight to you?

I like 'em kind of light. Some people say that heavy guitars have more sustain, but I can't tell. You know when a guitar sings through you -- through its back? I like it when you hold the guitar, and it sort of breathes through itself.

What amps did you use on the new record?

I used an old Fender Pro that I borrowed from [Austin musician] Denny Freeman, and an old Silvertone with one 10" speaker -- just a cheap, garage-looking thing. I also used my Matchless, the one with four 10s. When I go out on a gig, I use two piggyback models. I think they're Chieftains -- the ones with two 12s in each cabinet. I used a Bassman on a couple of things. As long as it has tubes and it's a Fender-type amp, you can't beat it. I've used a pair of Fender reissue Bassmans for gigs, and I've used them on records from Family Style on.

There's a photo of you using a Fender Super Reverb with the Thunderbirds, and from the back of the amp you can see that it has mismatched speakers. Was that something you did intentionally?

I think it was just what we had. The Jensen speakers sounded the best to me, but when we couldn't get those, we probably ended up with EVs. They were real durable. In the Matchless amps, I've got stock Celestions. They're the perfect speakers for that amp.

Are there other new amplifiers that you like?

I just bought three Kendricks. I got a 4x10, a 2x12, and one of their Black Gold 35s. Man, the Black Golds sound fabulous! If you can get a better guitar tone than that, I want to hear it. There really are some good amps now. There was a time when you had your old Fender, and that was it. Now, between Fender, Matchless, and Kendrick, a guy can get anything.

Are any effects added to your amp sound in the studio?

Nothing. I just get a good tone from the amp. There's always an exception to the rule, though. I'm not going to say that I'll never do this or never do that, but effects usually don't sound good with the room sound. The room mic is the effect, if you can call it that. On all my favorite old records, no matter how they had the band and the guitar miked, when the guy stepped away from the vocal mic to play his guitar, they would turn up his vocal mic. That's what makes it get all crazy-sounding. When B.B. King's playing and singing, you hear his guitar coming through the vocal mic, which has a little distance on it. When he steps away, they turn it up, and bam!

You've pretty much avoided effects pedals.

Well, I had an Ibanez Tube Screamer when I was in the Thunderbirds. I also had some kind of tremolo gizmo that made the pitch go up and down, and I ran my guitar through a Leslie on Butt Rockin'. But I just decided that the guitar was enough of a gadget. I have nothing against effects, but I just want to play the guitar. I'm not trying to be a purist or anything, it's just what I like.

You have a very identifiable guitar sound. Are you completely satisfied with it?

No, I'm never satisfied. What keeps you sounding good is when you're always trying to keep it fresh. The best advice I could give anybody is just to play, play, play. The more you play, the better you're going to get because you'll get bored with yourself, and then you'll learn new ways to express yourself.

Has the guitar ever been a struggle for you?

Truthfully, it has always come pretty natural. I don't want to say it was easy, but it seemed the perfect thing for me. I'd be in sad shape if I didn't have this.

This interview originally appeared in the July 1998 issue of Guitar Player…

Recently released by Freestyle Digital Media, Jimmie and Stevie Ray Vaughan: Brothers in Blues is the first authorized documentary on the life and times of the Vaughan Brothers, made with the full co-operation of Jimmie.

It’s a fascinating and informative film that includes interviews with the Vaughan brothers, as well as with contemporaries from the early days and household names like Eric Clapton and Billy Gibbons.

Using clips from Jimmie’s archives, the movie paints the fullest picture yet of how the two brothers started out and went on to transform the face of blues in the late ’70s and early ’80s.

Jimmie’s discussion of the events around Stevie’s tragic accident are particularly moving, as he recounts the tension between them prior to Stevie taking his fateful flight.

Essential viewing for any fan of these two titans of Texas blues, Brothers in Blues is a timely reminder of the magic of Stevie and Jimmie, and the unique connection that the two brothers had, both with each other and with the essence of the blues.

A press release says Jimmie and Stevie Ray Vaughan: Brothers in Blues is now available on AppleTV, iTunes, Amazon, Vudu, Sling and YouTube to rent or purchase. 

DVD copies of the film may be ordered from Amazon and Walmart.com.

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.

“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!’”

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.

It's pretty simple really: Whatever style of music you play if your rhythm stinks, you stink. And deserving or not, guitarists have a reputation for having less-than-perfect time.

But it’s not as if perfect meter makes you a perfect rhythm player. There’s something else. Something elusive. A swing, a feel, or a groove – you know it when you hear it, or feel it. Each player on this list has “it,” regardless of genre, and if there’s one lesson all of these players espouse it’s never take rhythm for granted. Ever.

Deciding who made the list was not easy, however. In fact, at times it seemed downright impossible. What was eventually agreed upon was that the players included had to have a visceral impact on the music via their rhythm chops. Good riffs alone weren’t enough. An artist’s influence was also factored in, as many players on this list single-handedly changed the course of music with their guitar and a groove.

As this list proves, rhythm guitar encompasses a multitude of musical disciplines. There isn’t one “right” way to play rhythm, but there is one truism: If it feels good, it is good.

50. Chuck Berry

Chuck Berry changed the rhythmic landscape of popular music forever. And his unique sense of groove and pocket is much deeper than it may seem upon first listen, as sideman extraordinaire and all around badass player Rick Vito pointed out in GP: “On many of his tunes, such as ‘Carol,’ ‘Little Queenie,’ and ‘Johnny B. Goode,’ you’ll find Chuck playing a rhythm that is a cross between an eighth-note downstroke shuffle and a straight eighth-note rock feel. But he changed the accents of the shuffle so that it mixed those two feels and made the groove jump and swing more.” 

In the end, the boundless energy and utter timelessness of Berry’s music speaks for itself. As does the fact that without him there would be no Beatles, no Stones, and maybe no rock and roll. 

Hail! Hail! Rock and roll!

49. Lindsey Buckingham

“I want to make the big picture as interesting as possible,” says Buckingham, who has merged pop songcraft and stellar guitar like few ever have. In fact, Buckingham strives for making everything he plays absolutely essential to the tune. His unbelievably inventive rhythm approach combines a wickedly precise right hand, propulsive fingerstyle figures that are informed by banjo rolls, and an attention to groove detail that can’t be denied. 

His ability to make multiple, and different, rhythm guitar parts work seamlessly in a tune (like on all of Rumours), is as classy as classy gets. 

LB is an incredible stylist whose sense of time was honed on Chet Atkins and Merle Travis – i.e. never lazy.

48. Maybelle Carter

To call Carter’s patented “Carter Scratch” rhythm guitar is selling it short – her style not only provided melody, harmony, and rhythm to the music of the Carter Family, it also laid the blueprint for all of country and folk music to come.

“I love Mother Maybelle’s playing,” Marty Stuart told GP. “I thought she had the most beautiful touch I have ever heard.” 

Equipped with her Gibson L-5, Carter would fill out the tunes by putting a melody on the bass strings with her thumb while alternating the chords on the treble strings with her index finger. 

Simple, yet beautifully effective.

47. Catfish Collins

As a member of the J.B.s, backing up James Brown, Collins’ work is featured on the classics “Get Up (I Feel Like Being a) Sex Machine” and “Soul Power,” among many others. Also dig the killin’ instrumentals “The Grunt,” and “These Are the J.B.s.” 

Collins was with the Godfather of Soul for less than a year, eventually joining his brother Bootsy on Funkadelic’s 1972 album America Eats Its Young. He eventually played on a slew of Parliament albums (that’s Collins on the righteous funk anthem, “Flash Light.”) too. 

Sadly, Collins passed away in 2010, but he left a hell of a funky legacy with his classic, greasy take on funk guitar.

46. Steve Cropper

“A lot of people have asked me why I didn’t solo more,” said Steve Cropper in 1994. “All I could ever say was that, when I solo, I miss my rhythm too much.” 

Perhaps the ultimate team player, Cropper’s rhythm method displays a funkiness that transcends simple sixteenth-note chord chanks or overtly syncopated figures. Instead, Cropper’s weapon of choice is a sensei-like sense of when to strike with the perfect chord voicing, lick, or, well, nothing. 

“Otis Redding was a big influence on me,” said Cropper. “He made me think and play a lot more simply, so that different notes would really count dynamically – find a hole and plant something in there that means something.”

45. Bo Diddley

The only player on the list who actually has a rhythm named after him, Diddley – unlike a lot of guitarists – never worked as a sideman. “I always had my own group, he said. “I never played sideman for nobody.” 

With some of the funkiest tones known to man, Diddley relied on his mutated rumba, often chucking chord changes altogether and putting all of his chips down on the groove. Classic sides such as “I’m a Man” and “Hey Bo Diddley” sound as fresh now as the day they were cut. 

Tell me now, who do you love?

44. Lonnie Donegan

Many players on this list were instigators of a revolution, but it would be tough to find an artist who was on the ground floor of a bigger uprising than Donegan, as he inspired an entire generation of British kids to pick up a guitar and pound away on three chords. 

Arguably rhythm guitar playing in its purest form, Donegan popularized skiffle – a hopped up mixture of swing jazz, blues, and folk with a driving acoustic guitar serving as the engine to make it go. 

It’s not hard to imagine teenagers such as John Lennon, Paul McCartney, and Pete Townshend completely losing their minds upon hearing Donegan’s “Rock Island Line” for the very first time.

43. Cornell Dupree

“I’ll push my groove button and groove,” said the late, great Dupree, who passed away in 2011. Dupree played with more people than he could even remember – from Streisand to Ringo and Midler to Miles – but he’s most famous for his work with Aretha Franklin (Live at the Fillmore, and Amazing Grace are particularly savory), Donny Hathaway’s Live, and Dupree’s personal fave, King Curtis’ Live at the Fillmore West. 

Dupree’s signature rhythmic style was supple, exhibiting equal parts gritty funkiness and understated elegance. His ethos was “less is more.” 

If you have something to say, say it, and if you don’t, stay out of the way.

42. The Edge

Harmonic, rhythmic, and textural, The Edge is a triple threat of rhythm guitar goodness. On U2’s earlier records, such as Boy and War, he blew minds with his chimey echoes and efficient chord voicings, which packed an Ali-sized punch when combined with his huge sense of pocket and clockwork right hand. 

As the years wore on, his playing still exhibited the same elements, but on an even grander scale with The Unforgettable Fire and The Joshua Tree. 

As the ’90s dawned, The Edge began hammering out distorted slabs of aggro power chording and getting funkier. “Rock and roll started out as dance music, but somewhere along the way it lost its hips,” he told GP in 2000. “The emergence of hiphop and dance culture upped the ante in the rhythm department – and there’s no going back. 

"Listeners aren’t going to accept lazy rhythms anymore.”

41. Don Everly

When Keith Richards name checks you as having a profound influence on his rhythm style, well, you’re pretty damn influential. 

The Everly Brothers’ breathtaking harmonies soared over a bed of ingenious guitar playing that was based around Don’s clever intros and driving rhythms. “I tried to make my guitar sound like a drum – a rock and roll instrument for rhythm and rhythm fills,” he said. 

Another arrow in the Everly quiver was open tunings. “I couldn’t figure out why Bo Diddley sounded the way he did,” said Everly. “Chet Atkins told me he thought he may be in open tuning, and he was right. So I began using open tunings like G, and that made us sound like three guitars instead of two.”

40. The Funk Brothers

Robert White, Eddie Willis, and Joe Messina were the main 6-string components of Motown’s house band in the label’s heyday from the late ’50s to the early ’70s. An incredible string of hits – “My Girl,” “My Cherie Amour,” “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,” “Let’s Get it On,” to name but a few – weren’t just the product of amazing songwriters, they were also due to the arrangements the three guitarists played, and the care they took in crafting their parts. 

The group would meticulously work out their voicings, dividing the neck up to avoid muddying the arrangements. “Everybody knew his given job,” explains White. “Mine was rhythm, Eddie would play a bluesy fill, and Joe would usually read something or play backbeats.” 

Says Willis, “Joe was ‘king of the backbeats.’ Pianist/bandleader Earl Van Dyke swears that he never heard Messina miss a backbeat during his entire Motown career!”

39. João Gilberto

Gilberto is one of, if not the architect of bossa nova. Dig into any of the legendary guitarist/eccentric’s titles, especially his seminal late-’50s and early-’60s recordings, and you’ll find wonderfully understated rhythm playing that, even at its most subdued, undulates with a sexy, swaying groove. 

The tricky syncopations of Gilberto’s vocal melodies and his fingerpicked rhythms are a marvel, as he makes it all sound so completely effortless.

38. Freddie Green

“If you pruned the tree of jazz, Freddie Green would be the only person left,” says Jim Hall. “If you listen to one guitarist, study the way he plays rhythm with Count Basie.” 

Green was a master of making the guitar sink in the rhythm section. His use of two- and three-note voicings exclusively let the harmonically dense horn arrangements speak, yet allowed Green to add to the already formidable swing with his trademark fourto- the-bar rhythmic pulse. 

Green also chose to play unamplified. “It blends better with the bass and piano,” he told GP. Much of Green’s classic Basie work was done with Epiphone Emperor, Stromberg Master 400, and Gretsch Eldorado models.

37. Jim Hall

Hall’s playing has always rendered labels meaningless. His groundbreaking work with Bill Evans, Ella Fitzgerald, and Ben Webster shows his modern approach to harmony and sympathetic ear for playing in a group. 

“I learned from Jimmy Giuffre," he said, "who has a very compositional approach to performing jazz – that a group should be in an evolving state like a mobile, with each player acting and reacting as the music is taking shape.” 

To find new chord voicings, Hall turned readers on to this pearl in ’83: “Sometimes I’ll take two voices and either take them through a tune like “Body and Soul,” or play them against a pedal tone, like open A for instance. You can get some interesting things if you try to get the notes going in different directions.”

36. Richie Havens

His impassioned performance at Woodstock alone would be enough to ensure Havens’ place in the rhythm guitar Hall of Fame. And although the late guitarist had a very successful career since the day he opened the 1969 festival, Havens’ performance there did give the world its first “peak” at a guy with a moving, all-in, passionate acoustic rhythm guitar style. 

“I play so hard that I used to go through a guitar every year-anda- half,” he told GP. “To me, playing guitar is just part of getting the song across – it’s not really about being a great guitar player. 

"I don’t even know what I’m doing. I’m filling in the spaces I have to in order to be able to sing a song the way I really feel it.”

35. Jimi Hendrix

A school unto itself, Hendrix’s rhythm playing in many ways feels like an even deeper ocean than his astounding soloing. 

From “The Wind Cries Mary” and “May This Be Love” from Are You Experienced to his beautiful rhythm work on “Little Wing, “Castles Made of Sand,” and “Bold as Love” from Axis: Bold as Love, Hendrix rolled his Curtis Mayfield-inspired chordal movement and tasty flourishes into a style all his own. 

The culmination of that style comes on Electric Ladyland’s title track, which finds Hendrix expounding even further on the sultry double-stop slides and bubbling trills that connect the spacey, at times ambiguous, but always beautiful chord sequence.

34. James Hetfield

Metallica are one of the most influential metal bands ever, and Hetfield’s sound is the hugest part of that, which is really saying something. 

From the beginning with Kill Em’ All, Hetfield’s right-hand precision, speed, and power would set a standard that all aspiring metal rhythm guys would struggle to match. 

“Maybe it’s the German in me,” says Hetfield, “but I always want the rhythms to be precise. It’s hard to escape. It’s how I play.” 

The other thing that Hetfield popularized was the way to get the maximum heaviness out of riffs. “Downpicking is the key!” he exclaims. “It’s tighter sounding and a lot chunkier.” 

Who are we to argue?

33. Chrissie Hynde

With a punk rock attack and a melodic songwriting streak a mile wide, Hynde not only provides the emotional heft behind her tunes, she relishes the role of rhythm guitarist as ringleader. 

“I’m not a great player, but I make sure I surround myself with great players who’ll do their best work when they’re with me,” she explains. “I’ve got the vision, and all I can do is lead my band to glory. I’m the scrappy punk element,” she continues. 

“Sometimes if the playing gets too good, it can lack a certain something. You could hand a guitar to 50 players and the guy who started playing three months ago might play ‘Louie Louie’ better than Eric Clapton!”

32. Tony Iommi

The architect of all things heavy, Iommi fired the shot heard ’round the world with one simple, evil, and impossibly slow riff – “Black Sabbath,” from the band’s earth-shaking eponymous debut. 

From there it was one classic after another (“War Pigs,” “Iron Man,” Sweet Leaf,” “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath,” etc.) on which Iommi continued to deliver on the promise he made on that first Sabbath record. 

But as the band evolved post-Ozzy, Iommi’s rhythm playing and songwriting evolved as well. The lead off track from Heaven and Hell, “Neon Knights,” served to put the world on notice that Iommi was much more than a sludgy doomsday riff machine – he was ready to put some speed behind his riffs. 

The title track to Mob Rules is also a killer, as is “The Sign of the Southern Cross,” where Iommi’s use of space makes his entry riffs extra punishing.

31. Danny Kortchmar

“It’s much easier to play a screamer solo over a heavy groove than it is to make that groove,” insists Kortchmar, who, aside from being an accomplished soloist, songwriter, and producer, was a rhythm specialist. 

Kootch found his way onto records by a who’s-who of heavy hitters including James Taylor, Carole King, Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, Don Henley, and Bonnie Raitt. 

Back in 1983, Kortchmar wrote a story in GP, In Defense of Rhythm Guitar. “A good rhythm guitarist will inspire people in the band to play better,” he said. “We can’t have a world full of guys playing screaming solos – there have to be guys who can play songs, who can play rhythm guitar.” 

As a pro’s pro, Kortchmar also dropped some science on how to get your feel together: “The interplay between people is what makes music, and that’s something you can’t practice at home. You have to get out in the world and do it.”

30. Alex Lifeson

“I’ve tried to develop a style that combines broad arpeggios and suspended chords,” explained Lifeson. “They’ve been my two main target areas. Suspensions have been my trick for many years to make a trio sound big.” 

Not very often are you treated to a body of rhythm work like Lifeson’s, from classic riff rock (“Working Man”) through heavy prog (“Xanadu”) onto the textural ’80s and ’90s, deftly riding the heavier sonic zeitgeist all the way to the present. 

Along the way, Lifeson has also incorporated more feels into his vernacular as well, including reggae (Permanent Waves and Moving Pictures) and funk (Roll the Bones). 

Lifeson has done it all, and never at the expense of his own personal voice.

29. Tony Maiden

During their heyday in the ’70s, Rufus ruled the funk roost. And although lead vocalist Chaka Khan got most of the cheese, Maiden was in the engine room corralling jazzy changes into seemingly simple funky guitar parts that outlined the tunes perfectly, without ever taking your ear away from the vocal. 

In fact, Maiden enhanced everything around him. His playing throughout the classic “Sweet Thing” is dead sexy from the start, with an intro that is a textbook example of sultry sophisti-funk guitar.

28. Bob Marley

Music doesn’t get much more rhythmic than Marley’s, and any guitarist with a genuine interest in adding the reggae flavor to their palette would be well served to study what Marley and his cohorts Peter Tosh, Junior Marvin, and Early “Chinna” Smith committed to wax. 

Always restrained, never stiff sounding, and every upbeat skank the perfect note length (a skill really worth honing for all styles of rhythm guitar), Marley’s oeuvre is a lesson in rhythmic meditation.

27. Johnny Marr

Is there a guitarist more influential in Brit pop? 

Marr’s work with the Smiths showed the way for countless pop guitarists in the ’80s, ’90s, and beyond as he wrangled jangle and extended clean-toned arpeggios with a steadily grooving right-hand that would be equally at home in a dance band. 

Marr is also a master of using multiple guitars to create one big propulsive behemoth, with every part, lick, and chime accounted for. “I’ve always believed that any instrumentalist is basically just an accompanist to the singer and the words,” he said. “That’s borne out of being a fan of records before I was a fan of guitar players – I’m interested in melody, lyrics, and the overall song. 

"I don’t like to waste notes, not even one.”

26. Curtis Mayfield

Mayfield is one of a handful of players on this list who basically invented a style. His ultra-lyrical comping connects chord changes in wonderfully inventive ways, with slippery double-stops and octaves and fleeting hammer-ons, while never overshadowing the bigger musical message. 

“Because I play with my fingers and play a chord along with the melody, my style suggests two guitars and the little melodic movements are just part of it,” Mayfield told GP. 

Mayfield, who played exclusively in open F# tuning, was also a master of sublime wah, using it to accentuate parts and add textures.

25. Al McKay

One of the most visible purveyors of Jimmy Nolen-style funk guitar, McKay bolstered Earth, Wind & Fire’s sound throughout the ’70s on hits such as “Shining Star,” “Sing a Song,” and “Saturday Night.” 

The lefty sports an uncanny knack for seamlessly intertwining funky, palm-muted single-note lines and finger-tight chordal work (the intro to “September,” being one example which was cut with a Telecaster sporting a neckposition humbucker), all the while navigating the tune’s changes and staying out of the way of the dense horn, string, and vocal arrangements.

24. Tom Morello

“When it comes to riffage, I’m all about the 1st and 3rd fingers and the 3rd and 5th frets – the same two strings on the same dots.” That’s how Morello describes his slabs of powerful pentatonic plundering on all of Rage Against the Machine’s classic sides. 

Morello’s mojo lies in the fact that he doesn’t use a ton of distortion, and he doesn’t tune down to silly extremes. His means to an end is a relentless dedication to the downbeat – the one. 

“In all the music that’s richly satisfying to me,” says Morello, “the ones are huge and unrelenting. It’s not really a rule, but you’d be a fool to stray from it. 

"It’s good enough for James Brown!”

23. Leo Nocentelli

Aside from Jimmy Nolen, arguably no guitarist has had as big effect on funk guitar as Nocentelli. A master of staccato, single-note funk, and stinging, brash chords, Nocentelli deftly bobs and weaves in and around the Meters’ impossibly funky grooves. 

It’s no wonder the likes of Jimmy Page, Paul McCartney, and the Rolling Stones (who had the Meters open up for them on their 1975 tour) were huge fans of New Orleans’ funkiest export. 

Armed with a Fender Starcaster (although he did cut the group’s most popular tune, “Cissy Strut,” with a Gibson ES-175), Nocentelli has a funky sixth sense for knowing when to tightly double a bass line or when to latch onto (or dance around) the drummer’s syncopated hi-hat pattern. 

Aside from the Meters’ classic tracks, Nocentelli and the Meters can also be heard on Patti LaBelle’s “Lady Marmalade” and Robert Palmer’s Sneakin’ Sally Through the Alley.

22. Jimmy Nolen

The Godfather of funk guitar. Beginning with a single sixteenth-note break on James Brown’s “Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag,” Nolen defined the funk guitar style, both rhythmically and harmonically, with simple two- and three-note chord voicings. 

“I started developing that when I played with Johnny Otis back in the ’50s,” said Nolen, who used a Gibson ES-175 and a Gibson Switchmaster on his first recordings with Brown, before moving to a Les Paul Recording and a Japanese- made Fresher Straighter Strat copy. 

“See, we used to play with so many different drummers – some were good but some were lazy. So I used to just try and play and keep my rhythm going as much like a drum as I could.” 

For more of Nolen’s pioneering style, dig “Cold Sweat,” “There Was a Time,” “Give It Up or Turn It Loose,” and “Say It Loud – I’m Black and I’m Proud.” 

Thanks Jimmy!

21. Jimmy Page

As much as he is remembered for being a heavy riff architect, much of Page’s rhythmic identity is based in ’50s rock and roll from influences such as Scotty Moore, James Burton, and Cliff Gallup. He also rolled a major wild card into his style, the whirling feel of Les Paul. 

When you throw all of that in with a hefty acoustic jones stoned on British Isles folk, an uncanny ear for modal tunings, and a good dose of riff thuggery (Johnny Ramone worshipped Page’s “Communication Breakdown” assault), you end up with one of the electric guitar’s most defining voices.

20. Joe Pass

An amazing solo guitarist and accompanist, Pass exhibited musical sophistication and sensitivity that are yet to be paralleled, including connecting the melodic dots with remarkable voice leading and walking bass lines. 

Pass’s four duet albums with Ella Fitzgerald are must haves (Take Love Easy, Fitzgerald and Pass…Again, Speak Love, and Easy Living), as are his series of Virtuoso recordings. 

“The best way to get the jazz feel,” says Pass, “is to play along with records or a group. It’s something you have to learn to inherently feel.”

19. Les Paul

Danny Gatton is one of the few guitarists that actually tried to cop Paul’s chops, and Jeff Beck did a full-scale tribute to the Great Man at the Iridium in New York City in 2010 – but nearly every guitarist from George Barnes to Jimmy Page acknowledges a debt of some sort to Paul. 

His mastery of jazz harmony and dizzying melody lines notwithstanding, Paul’s echo-enhanced, Django-influenced rhythmic foundations on unstoppable pop juggernauts such as “How High the Moon” and “Tiger Rag” shaped the course of commercial music for nearly a decade, and provided the template for slapback styles from rockabilly to country to surf and beyond.

18. Joe Perry

Although Perry’s classic work with Aerosmith operated squarely in the blues/rock vein, he never sounded clichéd or staid. With healthy dollops of Jimmy Page’s single-note funkiness, as well as some dirty Keith Richards chordal attitude, Perry rolled his influences into an inventive, grooving style that transcends simple classification. 

Perry’s willingness to mix in filthy tones only enhanced his funk factor (“Get It Up” from Draw the Line is just nasty), and his use of 6-string bass on “Back in the Saddle” and “Draw the Line” showed that he was always willing to think outside the blues box. 

“Your sense of groove has a lot to do with the guys you’re playing with,” Perry told GP. “If they’re really holding it down, you can float on top of it and drive the groove.”

17. Prince

“A lot of cats don’t work on their rhythm enough,” said Prince to GP in 2004. “And if you don’t have rhythm, you might as well take up needlepoint or something.” 

One listen to any of Prince’s tracks, from 1979’s Prince to 2016's Hit n Run Phase Two and it’s clear that the dude’s knitting skills probably sucked. 

“I’m always trying to work the bass notes when I’m playing funk rhythms,” he says, “the same way Freddie Stone from Sly and the Family Stone used to do it.” 

Prince’s rhythm style may be based on classic funk conventions, but his clever juxtaposition of tones and effects, as well as his undeniable rock rhythm chops, are a big reason why he’s such a heavy hitter.

16. Johnny Ramone

“I always wanted the guitar to sound like energy coming out of the amplifier,” said Ramone in ’85. “Not even like music or chords. I just wanted that energy.” 

Mission accomplished, Johnny. 

With his Mosrite plugged into a Marshall stack and a sledgehammer right-hand attack, Ramone wrote the book on punk guitar. “I was influenced by the New York Dolls, T. Rex, and Slade, but I can’t play any of their songs,” he said. “I can only play Ramones songs and the few covers that we do. 

"I just like to play punk rock, and that’s it – real loud rock and roll – no slow songs or soft songs.”

15. Jerry Reed

Being a hotshot session guy and an accomplished songwriter doesn’t hurt when it comes to having an evolved rhythm style. 

Reed’s rhythm guitar approach encompassed Atkins and stanky backwoods funk – the intro to “Guitar Man” being an excellent example of the former, and “Amos Moses” a superb specimen of the latter.

His playing on “Good Night, Irene” (from ’73’s Hot A’ Mighty) is a textbook example of a rhythm performance that acts as a solo, an accompaniment, and a hook as he flaunts hybrid picking chops mixed with hip chord grips and bends that would be comical if they weren’t so killer.

14. Django Reinhardt

If you can tear your ear away from his dazzling soloing long enough, you realize that Reinhardt’s rhythm chops are just as impressive. 

Scary. 

His relentless swing utilizes the ultra-percussive “la pompe” strumming technique which makes the drummerless ensemble swing with a steamroller intensity, pushing the soloist to greater improvisational heights. 

Pull out your metronome, get a chart for “Minor Swing,” and get crackin’. Then, work your way up to the much quicker “Limehouse Blues.” 

You may not aspire to play Gypsy jazz, but working on these tunes is a blast and a guaranteed groove enhancer.

13. Tony Rice

Long ago, Rice was considered the heir apparent to his late mentor, Clarence White. It didn’t take long, however, for Rice to forge his own identity, due in large part to the fact that he started to bring very nontraditional harmony to bluegrass music. 

Counting George Benson, Wes Montgomery, and Joni Mitchell as influences, Rice’s concept of time (he credits Dave Brubek’s “Take Five” for turning him onto odd time signatures) and colorful chord palette (he often cites Jerry Reed as having an influence on some of his dense, close-interval chords), coupled with his uncanny variations on simple rhythm patterns, have made him the bluegrass guitarist for a generation.

12. Keith Richards

Rock and roll’s high priest of groove, Richards’ lifetime of work with the Rolling Stones stands as a sonic monument to the hip-shaking power of rhythm guitar. 

His use of open-G tuning on nearly everything he’s done since the late ’60s spawned a style and sound that is still being imitated. “With open tunings, you can get a drone going so you have the effect of two chords playing against each other,” he told GP. “It’s a big sound.” 

Richards’ other contribution to the rock rhythm lexicon is the way he views the interplay between two guitars. “Rather than going for the separation of guitars, we try to get them to start to sound at a point where it doesn’t matter which guitar is doing what,” he explains. 

“They leap and weave through each other, so it becomes unimportant whether you’re listening to the rhythm or the lead because in actual effect, as a guitarist, you’re in the other player’s head, and he’s in yours.”

11. Nile Rodgers

“I really developed my style while playing jazz standards like ‘So What’ with my guitar teacher in a club,” says Rodgers. “He was comping in the traditional way, and I thought, ‘What am I going to do? He’s got it covered.’ So I tried to fill in the holes, swinging it like a drummer, and the whole club went ‘Whew! That is funky!’” 

The rest is history as Rodgers went on to cut some of the most groovin’ guitar playing known to man with Chic. 

His signature funkiness on “Le Freak” and “Good Times” have frustrated many a weekend warrior, as the riffs seem so simple, but getting them to sound and feel as good as Rodgers does, well, that’s the trick now, isn’t it?

10. Rudolf Schenker

“When something is in the pocket, it drives me,” says Schenker. “It gives me an outstanding power, like I’m surfing on a wave. When the groove isn’t right, I feel lost a little bit. It’s very hard work and it’s somehow not fun anymore.” 

Suffice to say, the groove is important to Schenker, who – aside from possessing one of the best combinations of savage tone and feel in the history of metal – has written some of the most timeless riffs as well. 

“I don’t care about the technical stuff,” he says. “What’s important to me is the attitude, the drive, and the feeling.”

9. Earl Slick/Carlos Alomar

“David Bowie’s Station to Station was the first time Carlos and I really zeroed in on how we should play together,” says Slick. “We mixed my rock thing in with Carlos’ funk thing and I think we came up with a pretty unique guitar combination – two guys who don’t play anything alike making it work.” 

Indeed. Slick and Alomar provided Bowie some legitimate funk and attitude during his Thin White Duke phase, creating chattering rhythmic figures (Alomar) and snarling chord bursts (Slick). 

Dig “Golden Years” and “Stay” from Station to Station for proof, and if that doesn’t convince you, listen to “Fame” from Young Americans. Oh my.

8. Steve Stevens

“I think of songs as environments, or little movies,” said Stevens in 1989. “And that usually dictates the sound I go for and the playing approach I take.” With Billy Idol in the ’80s, Stevens packed a cornucopia of rhythmic goodness into three-minute pop tunes better than anyone. His use of textures, noise, and good old-fashioned groove proved to be an unbeatable combination. 

“My playing reflects more of the English R&B sound,” says Stevens, distancing himself from ’80s texturalists such as Andy Summers and The Edge. “We’re similar to an extent, but I do it in Day-Glo! I play with a much more distorted sound.” 

As for his killer time and ability to hit the right chord at exactly the right time, Stevens says it’s simple: “Have a singer who will beat the piss out of you if you don’t stay in the pocket – that’s how I learned. 

"Billy Idol made me realize that technique is there as a secret weapon. If the guitar is full-on all the time, that’s pretty damn boring.”

7. Andy Summers

Sonically, Summers is possibly the most influential player on this list. His frothy chorus and dubapproved delays became irreplaceable cogs in the Police’s machine. But dig deeper and you find Summers’ grasp of reggae feels, as well as his propensity to extend chords (giving even the simplest progression, a modern makeover), were also a huge part of his sound. 

“I used to be in bands with keyboard players where we had to always watch out for what the other guy was doing harmonically, because there would be conflict,” he explains. 

“I didn’t have that restriction in the Police, so I could stretch chords out and make my rhythm parts more orchestral.”

6. Pete Townshend

To call Townshend’s rhythmic contributions to rock guitar “huge” doesn’t even begin to describe the influence he has had. Yet, it’s not as if he inspired a legion of Townshend sound-alikes. His style – which boasts an incredible right-hand strumming technique – has remained intensely singular and attached to the tunes that embody it. 

Townshend possess the ninja-like skill of knowing when one big chord will not only do the job, it’s big enough to be the hook (see “Won’t Get Fooled Again”). Those are some onions, my friend. 

More than anyone, Townshend has also shown how high an art form rhythm guitar can become in a rock and roll band.

5. Eddie Van Halen

Although his solos were fodder for nearly every guitarist growing up in the late ’70s/early ’80s, Van Halen’s rhythm work never got quite as much attention, which is a damn shame because there’s gold in them there riffs! 

You had your vicious metal chuggers (“Romeo Delight,” Light Up the Sky,” “D.O.A.”), some pretty stuff (the woefully underrated “Secrets”), and the weird (“Sinners Swing,” “House of Pain”). 

VH’s rhythm work was oftentimes just as gonzo as his solos, frequently exhibiting the same careening racecar vibe, and he didn’t necessarily come from a certain “school” of rhythm guitar. 

Like his soloing, his rhythm playing was intensely personal (the intro to “5150” is a textbook example of this) and seemingly easy to grasp on the surface, but once you dive in, you find there’s a lot to digest.

4. Jimmie Vaughan

Although he could certainly solo with the best of the blues cats, Vaughan’s calling card in the shred-heavy ’80s was as a blues rhythm specialist. 

“When I started out playing guitar, all I wanted to do was play that Jimmy Reed groove – it just feels real good,” Vaughan told GP. “Then I made it my business to figure out the guitar interplay between Reed and his co-guitarist Eddie Taylor. I tell you what, it sounds real easy when you first hear it, but listen closely. The way they lock and form that deep groove is not easy. It’s a whole other thing.” 

The same could be said for Vaughan’s rhythm work, as he makes it seem so easy – the sign of a true master.

3. Alex Weir

As part of the Brothers Johnson and Talking Heads, Weir was the ultimate funky ringer. This was especially true in Talking Heads, as evidenced by the epic concert film, Stop Making Sense. 

Working over a Music Man Sabre, Weir’s contributions to the Heads’ collective funk cannot be underestimated. “This Must Be the Place (Naïve Melody)” and his impossibly dope comping on “Burning Down the House” are as infectious as they are musical, and his guitar interplay with David Byrne on “Big Business/I Zimbra” is a clinic in relentless sixteenthnote funk. 

Damn!

2. The Wrecking Crew

This loose-knit collective of musicians played on a plethora of ’60s and early-’70s hits by everyone from the Carpenters to the Beach Boys to Simon & Garfunkel to the Monkees – the list goes on and on. And everybody knows you don’t get huge, timeless hits with lousy rhythm guitar work, right? 

The roster of guitarists in the Wrecking Crew goes from giants of jazz such as Barney Kessel and Howard Roberts to studio rats Tommy Tedesco and Carol Kaye to arranger/guitarists such as Al Casey and Billy Strange – all master sight-readers with impeccable feel. 

Cats such as Glen Campbell, Louie Shelton, Jerry Cole, and Mike Deasy (among others) could be counted on to deliver the snazzy new rock and roll rhythms of the day – noise that guys like Kessel and Tedesco hated – but they loved the paychecks!

1. Malcolm Young

Has anyone personified the role of a rhythm guitarist in a rock band better than Malcolm Young? 

No, they haven’t. 

In AC/DC, not only did he play some of the most swaggering, swinging, balls-to-the-wall rock and roll guitar ever, he did it with zero solos. Young knew exactly what his role was as a rhythm guitarist in a rock and roll band, and he thrived in it. 

“Learning an instrument has to be natural,” he said. “If you stop to think about playing, the feeling just goes.” Feel was always behind what Young did. Without it, he would be just a dude strumming chords. 

“It probably has something to do with the attitude I put into it. I don’t think what I do is hard, really. If it doesn’t swing, it doesn’t mean a thing. That’s about it.”

To hardcore fans, Jimmie Vaughan is a virtual deity – a living legend with an electric guitar style so deep that it defies description.

Since emerging in the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Vaughan has walked the long walk and earned the respect of blues guitar superstars such as B.B. King, Buddy Guy, and Eric Clapton.

He has spun his signature licks in dives and stadiums, shared a bill with Jimi Hendrix, and toured the world with Clapton, ZZ Top, and the Rolling Stones.

Not bad for a guy who traded high school for an endless stream of roadhouse gigs.

Back in 1998, Guitar Player caught up with the man himself following the recording of his maverick solo album Out There.

During our conversation, Vaughan revealed some rare insights into how he manages to nail his world class guitar tones.

The following interview excerpts originally appeared in the July 1998 issue of Guitar Player…

Fat Strat Tone

“I've narrowed it down to what works and what doesn't work, and what works is getting that fat tone on a Fender guitar – which is not necessarily known for that… It's not really any trick. You just turn the amp up and use your fingers to get a good guitar sound.

“I like the treble pickup because it has a pure tone without a lot of overtones. It almost sounds like a steel guitar, you know?

“But you can say different things tonewise by where you pick. For example, depending on where I pick the string – closer to the bridge or farther away from the bridge – and whether I use a pick or a finger is sort of like my three pickups.”

Raising the Game

“I don't know if this is good advice for anybody else, but I raise up my [pickup] treble side and lower the bass side. It just seems more balanced that way – you know, the ratio of the volume between the treble strings and the bass strings.

“Now, if you get the pickup too close it'll start making a beating sound. One thing I do that I don't think nobody else does is raise my action up real high. I don't necessarily use big strings, but I have the action up pretty high so that my strings really ring.

“I know Fenders were designed to play really easy, but I like it when you've got something to hold on to.”

Studio Secrets

“Back with the Thunderbirds we got our sound by using the room. Instead of recording the signal and putting an effect on it to make it sound good, we moved the microphones away from the amps and the drums… That's really how I get a good guitar tone. It's the room. Now I'm giving away all my little secrets.

“It's also the amp and the guitar, of course, but you record everything where there's enough room for the sound to breathe. You don't put the mic right up on the speaker. 

"This is the same way I've recorded every record I've made – the ones that sounded good, anyway.” [laughs]

Browse the Jimmie Vaughan catalog here.

Award-winning blues guitarist Larry McCray has released the second single – “Breaking News” – from his forthcoming album Blues Without You.

Produced by Joe Bonamassa and Josh Smith, Blues Without You will be released on March 25 via Keeping the Blues Alive Records (KTBA Records.)

One of the great bluesmen of the American Rust Belt, McCray holds a very special place in Bonamassa’s heart.

“Larry McCray is a legend,” he says. “In the spirit of B.B. King, Luther Allison and Little Milton, Larry is among the greats.”

Over the years, McCray has performed alongside some of the biggest names in blues guitar including B.B. King, Buddy Guy, Albert King, John Mayall, Johnny Winter, Robert Cray, Keb’ Mo’, Jimmie Vaughan and Kenny Wayne Shepherd.

Guesting on Larry McCray’s latest 12-track long-player are Joe Bonamassa, Warren Haynes, Joanna Connor, and Reese Wynans.

Speaking of Blues Without You, McCray said, “Writing this album made me feel proud, as it allows others to see me as more than a blues musician.

“The songs are reflective of my broad taste in music styles and the subject matter, although personal at times, is relatable to anyone’s life. Hopefully, the words and message of the songs will help others express their feelings in a similar synopsis."

Following up The Gibson Sessions, Blues Without You is McCray’s first album in seven years and is a result of having hooked up with a team of people whom he feels are kindred spirits.

“I feel totally reborn, with a whole new career,” says the guitarist, “and I'm optimistic about what the future holds.

“But truthfully speaking, sometimes I do wish it would have happened 30 years ago. I would have been much more qualified for the job at that age than at 62.”

It’s never too late, we say!

Pre-order Blues Without You here.

Junior Brown is what I would call a bar-band virtuoso. 

What is that, you might ask? Fair question. 

To me, it’s an artist who thrives in a 200-capacity (or less) venue, one who, along with putting on a great show, never comes close to taking more than what he gives.

Junior Brown is among the elite of this genre.

Playing his guit-steel double-neck, a hybrid electric and lap-steel guitar, he delivers show-stopping solos and will quote Hendrix at the drop of a hat.

His detuning plunges are exciting and feel like a bomb hit the building.

And then there is his songwriting. 

In my opinion Junior Brown is a totally underrated tunesmith. His songs are filled with melody and original hooks, and they breathe characters and scenarios that become real people, living in honest-to-goodness situations. 

Junior’s prose gives life.

For evidence, I point you to his album Guit With It. Released on Curb Records in 1993, it’s a great overview of Junior’s unique depth and encyclopedic knowledge of country music and beyond.

Guit With It begins with the fast Ray Price shuffle “Doin’ What Comes Easy to a Fool,” which has great playing throughout. 

Special mention goes to Junior’s dismount on his guitar solo, a wild counterpoint phrase that is hall of fame major league.

Next up is “Highway Patrol,” where Mr. Brown channels Red Simpson like nobody I’ve heard. He remains himself while nailing the genre.

On the instrumental track “Sugarfoot Rag,” Junior throws in the kitchen sink for an action-packed four minutes of instrumental bliss.

My favorite song here is the little masterpiece “My Wife Thinks You’re Dead.” The spoken lyric is danceable all by itself; I feel like I’m listening to an audiobook.

Jimmie Vaughan plays a curiously out-of-tune solo, but maybe I’m nitpicking and that was the point.

I shrug my shoulders. Junior steps up next to deliver a guit-steel solo that’s one for the ages.

The track “Names And Addresses” reminds me of a great Willie Nelson tune that incorporates some moderate jazz changes.

Junior sings and plays these changes as if they fit him like a comfortable pair of old slippers.

“Guit-Steel Blues” is another instrumental tour de force, one on which his guit-steel quotes Hendrix’s “Red House” and takes us on a ride on the edge of our seats.

This is a blues that makes you feel good, and Guit With It is a great hang.

Back in the 1990s, I was lucky enough to open for Junior Brown twice. It was a humbling experience.

Performing at the time with his wife on rhythm guitar, a swinging bassist and a drummer playing a lone snare drum, Junior and his band filled the house with sound wherever they went.

When our set was over, he plucked six notes and obliterated everything I had played before him down to a well-intentioned, forgettable introduction.

I was a young musician and knew I had a lot of work to do.

Like Chet Atkins, Roy Buchanan, Link Wray and Lonnie Mack, Junior Brown is cut from bar-band virtuoso cloth. With him, and all the aforementioned players, the presentation is close-up and personal, with one eye on the audience.

In contrast, arena performances demand participation. We all stand in the vastness and show our gratitude that we were lucky enough to hear Keith Richards play the intro to “Satisfaction” one more time.

Sorry folks, I need more than that. I don’t go to a show to unconditionally praise artists.

I long to be entertained and moved by the soul and urgency of the music. Bar-band virtuosos like Junior Brown create a relationship based on the here and now, and Guit With It captures his mastery in full.

Jim Campilongo has 14 critically acclaimed instrumental records available on vinyl, CD and digital download here.

Jimmie Vaughan’s reputation as a premier electric guitar slinger stretches way back to the ’60s, when he found regional success in Texas, crossing paths with many of the big names of the time, including Jimi Hendrix.

For most listeners outside Texas, Vaughan first came to prominence in the late ’70s as the killer guitarist in what was arguably the first really cool blues band in eons, the Fabulous Thunderbirds. After seven albums of no-frills, down-and-dirty blues guitar, Vaughan left the group, made an album with his brother Stevie – 1990’s Family Style – and settled into a solo career playing blues-rock songs of his own and mixing in acclaimed collaborations with numerous blues luminaries, including a pair of albums with Omar Dykes.

In recent years, though, Vaughan has made several return visits to the music he loves best: the rare and frequently arcane recordings of R&B artists he grew up with, like Jimmy Reed, Jimmy Liggins, Bobby Charles and Nappy Brown.

He released his first R&B covers album, Plays Blues, Ballads & Favorites, in 2010, and followed it up in 2011 with Plays More Blues, Ballads & Favorites. His third album in the series, 2019’s Baby, Please Come Home is a righteous celebration of blues, while last year saw the release of The Pleasure's All Mine (The Complete Blues, Ballads & Favorites Sessions).

Earlier this year, fans were treated to The Jimmie Vaughan Story – an encyclopaedic 96-track 5-CD epic release. Showcasing Jimmie’s distinctive take on the blues these recordings comprise rare and unreleased gems from the initial part of Jimmie’s career, including his early bands Storm and The Fabulous Thunderbirds.

Back in 2019, GP caught up with the man himself shortly after the release of Baby, Please Come Home.

Baby, Please Come Home is your third album of blues covers. Is this the plan going forward?

At this point, I’m just doing stuff that I like. That’s the truth of it. I just like those songs. Basically, when I write my own stuff, it sounds like the same kind of thing, and nobody knows these songs. And I really enjoy making this music with my band. We get to play blues, we can swing, and we can rock out.

Are you no longer interested in writing original material?

Well, if you’re gonna write, you have to get up in the morning and write something every day and really work on it. I am gonna make an album with songs that I’ve written at some point, but this is where I’m happiest at the moment.

It’s interesting to hear how your vocals have developed over each album and how you’ve really found your voice.

For years, I didn’t want to sing, until finally I got into a position where I had to sing or go home. When I was a kid – maybe 15 or 16 – you couldn’t tell from my playing how old I was. I think my voice has gotten deeper, maybe partly from getting old and also from just doing it.

Does the singing change your phrasing on the guitar?

I think when you play for many years, your phrasing will always change as you try to reproduce the stuff that you hear in your head. I always think of myself as a sax player. I like the way the sax player expresses himself, and, especially if you’re singing, you kind of express your song in the voice, then you go back and do it on the guitar. I suppose that makes it sound pretty simple!

Guitarwise, are you still using your signature Strats into Grammatico amps?

Yeah. I use Fender Bassmans as well. A Grammatico is really just a hand-wired Bassman. I like the way 10-inch speakers sound. I used to really enjoy the Matchless, but they quit making them. It’s hard to beat a Fender Bassman though.

You keep your guitar volume low but run your amp high.

That “hots” the amp up, gets it on the edge. That’s the sweet spot where you get the best from the amp. I like it where it sounds like it’s going to blow up. It sounds present.

From the first Fabulous Thunderbirds, it was obvious that you put thought into the spaces between notes – that what you didn’t play was as important as what you did play.

That was a “call and response” style that I learned from my heroes, even those who didn’t play guitar. When you first start to play as a kid, you want to fill up all the holes, but then you realize that the reason why you like certain people is not only because of their tone but also their phrasing.

Just the idea that you can have phrasing that sounds like jazz or blues is pretty intriguing to me. When I hear a sax player like Gene Ammons – he’ll play a phrase and then he’ll wait. And it’s the wait that gets you. That space to breathe. That space to give you time to feel what you just heard.

You had a great way of sitting in behind the harp on Kim Wilson’s solos and not taking up too much space.

I listened to Jimmy Rogers with Little Walter and Eddie Taylor with Jimmy Reed… All those guys. I loved the way they play. I’m a real big fan of that approach.

The first four Fabulous Thunderbirds albums were in a more traditional blues vein. Starting with Tuff Enuff, the music became more mainstream and the group had its greatest success.

Tuff Enuff was more rocky, but it was still true to what we’d been doing. We didn’t feel like we changed that much. The increased level of success had its good and bad points: You never get to come home, and you have too many gigs. Life starts getting in the way of all that.

We did have a fabulous time though, ’cause we were doing what we wanted. You know, when we started out playing covers of old rhythm and blues songs, record companies would say to us, “You can’t get a record deal. That’s a bunch of old shit that no one wants to hear.” We did it anyway, and we had to fight hard each step of the way.

So when we made Tuff Enuff, we just did it the way we wanted to. And we made them take their words back.

You really introduced a lot of those old blues players from the Excello label to a wider audience. Was that deliberate?

Well, what a great thing to do if we could do that. We were just playing what we wanted to hear. I never get tired of the Excello players: T-Bone Walker, Buddy Guy, Jimmy Reed…all the guys I’ve always loved.

Given the demands of success, did you split from the T-Birds because you felt burned out?

What happened was that the record company kept asking me and Stevie, would we do an album together, and we’d been thinking about it since we were little kids. We’d play at home for the guests. My dad would say, “Go get your guitars!” and we’d play for the people, and the guests would say, “Well that’s pretty good, kid. Maybe you guys could make a record someday.”

We ended up making Family Style. Then Stevie got killed before it came out, which really screwed everything up. I didn’t know what in the world to do, and everybody was just flipped out. I still can’t believe what happened, and I’m talking about my feelings and the way it still feels. It took me a long time to really get back. He was my little brother.

When we were kids, I was supposed to get him to school and back. Protect him. So it felt like I’d failed, even though there was nothing I could do about it. It took me a while to process everything.

Stevie never got to have a family or anything like that. I’ve been blessed. I have a wonderful family, I get to play guitar, I have a great band. I have all the wonderful things in life.

Had Stevie not died, do you think you would have followed a very different path and perhaps worked more closely with each other on a regular basis?

I think we would have done a tour and probably another album. But it’s all speculation. I might have done more with the T-Birds as well. It wasn’t like I was trying to quit the group to be with Stevie or he was leaving his band. This was just something different for us. We were just trying stuff.

Afterward, you came out with your first solo album, 1994’s Strange Pleasure. Did you feel under pressure to match the T-Bird standard once you were out on your own?

Well, you always feel pressure to try to make a better record next time. You have to follow yourself. What happens is, once in a while you just screw around with ideas and you get something really good. But you don’t know how that happens, ’cause if you could figure it out, you would do it every time.

It’s that “lightning in the bottle” moment.

Yeah. The gypsies call it duende. If you can find that in yourself, that’s the fun of it. I just love to play so much. If you keep playing everyday, and you keep working on it and your sound, I think it comes to you.

Buy Family Style here.

Four-time Grammy winner Jimmie Vaughan – elder brother of the late, great Stevie Ray Vaughan – is a blues guitar hero in his own right. In celebration of Jimmie’s incredible legacy and continuous evolution as a blues guitarist, Last Music will shortly be releasing The Jimmie Vaughan Story 5-CD box set.

A must-have for any fan, this encyclopedic collection traces Jimmie’s storied career from the mid-‘60s up to present, giving a rare and insightful perspective into the musical life of one of blues rock’s finest.

Showcasing Jimmie’s distinctive take on the blues these recordings comprise of rare and unreleased gems from the initial part of Jimmie’s career, including his early bands Storm and The Fabulous Thunderbirds. 

Other choice finds have been carefully curated from recordings of Jimmie’s prolific collaborations with other blues guitar greats such as Stevie Ray Vaughan, Bo Diddley, John Lee Hooker, and Billy F. Gibbons.

Partnered with this bountiful Texas blues bonanza is a book containing never-before-seen Vaughan family photos of Jimmie, Stevie and their parents, plus images from throughout Jimmie Vaughan’s entire career. Also forming part of this comprehensive package is Jimmie’s life story in his own words, and a variety of reading tidbits such as his very first interview from 1978 and an essay by journalist and producer Bill Bentley.

For collectors and completists, a Deluxe version of The Jimmie Vaughan Story containing a rare vinyl set and special edition publication is available exclusively from Jimmy Vaughan’s website where you can also find information on his forthcoming tour.

In the summer of 1988, Stevie Ray Vaughan had just completed an intensive tour of Europe when Tom Nolan sat down to talk to him in England for a frank discussion about his roots, overcoming addiction and finding redemption. 

Nolan was given little time for the interview, but his knowledge of blues showed through. He was surprised to find Stevie so forthright about his music and family life, his substance abuse and his subsequent return to a drug-free life. 

At the time, the guitarist was preparing to record In Step, his fourth studio album with his band, Double Trouble, and a record whose title reflected his newfound sobriety. Said Stevie, “I’m finally in step with life, in step with myself, in step with my music.”

Reading Stevie’s words today, and sensing his excitement about his music and life, makes it all the more sad that his life was cut short just two years after this interview and his phenomenal return to form. 

On the 30th anniversary of his passing, we bring you this rare and revealing interview with the late great Stevie Ray Vaughan.

What are you looking forward to after this current round of tour dates?

I’m looking forward to taking about 10 days off to go to Spain and Italy, and then back to the States. We’re going to do a few dates in the States, and then I’ll go ahead and pinpoint some of the ideas I already have that I want to use on the next record.

How long does recording an album take you nowadays?

Well, they’ve all taken different lengths. The first one took two days. Basically, we had 28 years to get our first record together. [laughs] The second one six months, the third six months, and the live album [1986’s Live Alive]… 

Actually, I had wanted to bring a crowd to the studio, but it made more sense to bring the studio to the crowd, and because of that we ended up doing a lot of the songs off the other records. 

However, we did three gigs, and for some of it Jimmie [Vaughan] was with us as well. We had horns on some, and we did several things that we had never done before. Then we went back in and chose from what were the best performances.

But since then, there’s been a lot of changes going on - changes in my life as well as other people in the band - and we’re trying to take things at a more sensible pace.

You know, this record will be the first one I’ve ever done sober, completely sober, so things are a lot different now, and there’s a lot more to see and look at and be thankful for.

Can you tell me how those changes in your life happened?

Yeah, it would help me to talk about it anyway. I’m an alcoholic. I didn’t know that for a long time. I had a suspicion for a few years, but I didn’t realize that that’s really what it was down to. 

My father was an alcoholic, and what I didn’t know that I do now is that some of the disease of alcoholism is actually hereditary. And growing up in a family that’s actually dysfunctional because of alcoholism is a lot of it. 

I started drinking when I was about six, and through the years, the more pressures and the more things that I have become involved with, it ended up where I started using drink and other drugs to keep me going.

Part of it had to do with the better bands that I got into. For some reason, it seemed as if they got higher, and it seems like they had been subject to the same kind of myths that I had: that to play that kind of music and be successful at it, or to be creative or hip, you had to be high.

The truth is, that’s bullshit, and the real matter is that if you’re good at what you like and you care about what you’re doing, then you’ll be good.

Now, I finally hit bottom when I collapsed about September 1986, over here in Europe - in Germany was where it really came to a head. I could no longer carry on the schedule that we had. You see, as long as I kept going, anesthetizing my feelings and doing things that would give me enough energy to keep going…

Every time we would come along and make the best of a bad situation because of overbooking, we would just go [grits teeth], “Okay, we can do it,” and play right through it.

If I’d had the time to stop and think about it, I would have seen that was going to lead to nowhere real quick. However, the way it looked at the time to me was that I’d accepted that I was going to have to do this for the rest of my life.

You mean drinking?

Drinking and other things, mainly cocaine, because that was… I don’t know… Somehow along the line I got the idea that it was safer than other drugs, and that’s a lie. It’s one of the more distorting drugs. It can really lead to problems, as I found out the hard way. 

At any rate, it came to a head. I collapsed. I got to a point where I was completely wrecked in my thinking, in my heart and physically. Most of my values were gone. Some of them I could still hang on to, however some of them were really distorted, really bad.

I finally gave up fighting this whole deal, and then it dawned on me that now I can get some help. I went to Dr. Victor Bloom here in London, and he put me in the hospital to observe my stomach - because I’d torn my stomach up real bad - and to detox. 

He suggested a chain of treatment centers called Charter, and it was great, because there was someone I could talk to who was willing to just be helpful. 

The treatment center gave me the tools to live without using these things, and also to have more inspiration, more faith in life and in myself. And it gave me the tools to not need to get loaded. I have a choice now.

Instead of “I do this because I have to,” I have a choice, which is that I choose to be healthier, and I choose to grow spiritually, and I choose to not use any kind of drugs or alcohol, because I know what kind of thinking goes on in my head when I do.

If I was to have a drink, I wouldn’t just have a drink - I would have a lot of drinks, and it might be that I would die, because the disease of alcohol is very progressive. 

Now I wake up in the morning and it’s neat. We’ve been waiting a long time, and people have been real nice about this whole deal, and real understanding. Okay, what else shall we talk about? [laughs]

I’d like to talk about the Texas blues scene and how it developed for you as a youngster. Your brother, Jimmie, was a couple of years older.

Yeah, three and a half years older. He started playing when he was in junior high, when I couldn’t have been more than eight. 

When he was at school, he had decided to go for football, because that’s what all the girls go after - football players. Then he realized that the football players were a lot bigger than him, and he figured out that he wasn’t Superman when his collarbone got broken.

A friend of my father’s brought over a guitar and handed it to him and said, “Hey, play this! It won’t hurt you.” And Jimmie started playing right away. It was amazing to watch him do it. 

He had three strings on the guitar, and I went to school and came home and he’d made up three songs. I’m serious! And that’s the way his playing has been all along.

With that kind of an influence as your big brother, it’s real easy to get into playing. I saw how much fun he was having with it, and I saw how dedicated he was to it, and it gave me a lot of inspiration.

When he would leave, partially because he was big brother and you’re not supposed to touch big brother’s stuff, and partly because he told me not to touch his guitar… ahh, I did!

Eventually, he got an electric guitar, and I got the one that he’d had. Then he got another electric guitar, and I got his hand-me-down, and soon after, I was playing gigs around. He started playing, and within a few months he was in a band that could play. 

A few months later he was in a band with all the hot guys around, and a few months later he was in the hottest band in Texas. I mean, boom, boom, boom. By the time he was 15, he was the hottest guitar player in Texas. From then on, everybody was trying to figure out how Jimmie Vaughan would do it. Me too.

The bands I was playing in weren’t so good. I remember the first time I was ever onstage with a band, we were in a talent show that Jimmie was in as well, in another band. 

Now in this talent contest, we were about halfway through the song when we realized that nobody knew any more than the first part of the song! So that gig didn’t go over too well. We did not win! I guess that I started clubs at about 13 or 14. Way too young to be in them, but that’s the way it goes.

Are these clubs at home?

Yeah, around Texas - Dallas and Fort Worth. In fact, the first week that I had an actual club gig where they drank and everything - I mean a real club - we played an eight-day week. 

Four of the nights was at one club until closing time, which was 2 a.m., and then the other three nights was 12 till 4 a.m. at another club in another part of town. Both these clubs had the same owners. That was when I met [Double Trouble bassist] Tommy Shannon.

He had been in Johnny Winter’s band, hadn’t he? 

Yeah, it was the night he quit to go to California with another band. That was my first club gig. We made $600 for the eight days, and we were an 11-piece band. That’s like a dollar an hour, or a night, or something ridiculous.

Were these clubs Black?

Yes, some of them were Black clubs. It was quite strange. For a while I was playing at the Cellar, in Dallas, and you would play a set for an hour. There was continuous music as there were three bands or two bands, depending on what was going on. 

Each band would play for exactly one hour, and as the last band hit their last chord, the next band would come on the other side of the set, plug into the same gear and hit it. That meant that you would play for an hour, then get two hours off. 

At that club they would not let Black people in. We did not like the policy, but it was one of the only gigs you could get where you could play the music you wanted to play.

What we would do was play a set for an hour, then go get into the car and go over to the other side of town and go sit in. We would have two hours, so we would be back in time to play our next set, and then we would go over again.

How old were you then?

14. We were playing from 10 at night until six in the morning. We were also trying to go to school, and that doesn’t work real well.

How did your mother and father react to all this?

Well, things were real strange at home in the first place, but it didn’t go over real big. Jimmie had left when he was 15 because of the same things - we both knew what we wanted to do. After I moved out, I stayed around Dallas for a few months playing around the clubs. The band I was in at the time was called Blackbird.

Were you playing blues music at that stage or more of a pop thing?

Blues music and rock music - rock and roll, rock, blues, but all blues-influenced, some of it by the original blues guys, some of it by the English guys. Some of it was influenced by Hendrix, He also took everything he heard that excited him and put it into his music. 

Do you practice specific licks and runs, or do you simply play a lot? 

I just play a lot, but lately not as much as I would like to. The way you have to travel now, the way that regulations have changed on planes - certainly in the States - they got to where they wouldn’t let you on with something that was longer than a certain length, so we had to take the neck off the guitar. 

So when we’d get to the next town I’d have to give it back to René [Martinez, Stevie’s guitar tech] and he’d go put it back together. And now that we’re doing so many gigs and everything, there just isn’t time. I really have been wanting to sit down in my room and play, because that’s what started it. 

That’s like going back to square one. And it’s fun. It’s fun to sit around, even if it gets frustrating. I’m starting to remember that some of the biggest doors that have been opened in my life have sometimes been the hardest things to do.

How did you get around those things?

I kept listening, kept going to see people, sitting in with people, listening to records. If I wanted to learn somebody’s stuff - like with Clapton, when I wanted to learn how he was getting some of his sounds, which were real neat, I learned how to make the sounds with my mouth and then copied that with my guitar. 

I’d get it to where I could sing it and then do it on the guitar at the same time, and if it didn’t sound like it should to me, then I’d do it again. It was kind of like scat singing or something.

With Hendrix’s music, I kept listening and kept trying and trying, and some of the things I just stumbled onto when I’d be playing, and things would kind of come to me. How to describe it - I don’t know. It had to do with confidence levels and the excitement of playing, trying new things and originality.

Did you ever get to see Hendrix live?

Not live. My brother opened up for him, and they’d go around together, trading ideas… and wah-wah pedals! But I just kept trying it. That’s one thing that I don’t understand. 

I get asked a lot of times by people, how do I have enough gall to do “Voodoo Chile,” and my answer to that is, 'Wait a minute!' It seems to me that all the pressure about whether it’s sacrilegious to do Hendrix’s music or not comes from other people, not from him. I think he would probably hope that other people would take his music further.

How about your guitars? Are you still playing your First Wife [a.k.a. Number One]?

Yeah, my first wife is a ’59 Stratocaster [actually a ’63 body, ’62 neck and ’59 pickups]. Although now I have a different neck on it, because I’d worn the other one to a point where every time I refretted it I’d have to fill in the holes.

Is it a custom-made neck?

No, it’s the neck off another Stratocaster, but it’s the same size neck. I use the big necks, the V necks, and I use bass frets, jumbo. A Stratocaster is the most versatile guitar. I can pretty much get any sound out of it, and I use stock pickups.

You don’t use any special wirings?

Not really. There’s something I’ve been trying for a while. I call it "Something Extra," and I’ve got it in my First Wife. What it does is, if there’s a problem with lights and buzz, I turn it on, and sometimes it causes the buzz to go away.

It’s on a push-pull switch, and it changes the tone very barely, but I’ve learned to work with that tone. I can’t say what it is because we’re trying to see what we can do with it. It’s a very simple idea, too.

Do you have any unusual guitars in your collection?

Well, there’s one that I’m carrying with me which is made by Charlie Wirz - the E-flat model that you saw, which is basically a Stratocaster with Danelectro lipstick pickups in it. Whether he changed the wires in those pickups, I’m not sure. He never told anyone. [Wirz passed away in 1985.] 

I love that guitar. It sounds like a Stratocaster, but it’s just a little bit different. Those pickups seem to work real well in a Stratocaster body. I like it a whole lot. I’ve also got a guitar that Billy Gibbons had made for me that’s a Hamiltone model.

Do you have any acoustics?

I’ve got a Gibson [ES-]335. That’s a semi-acoustic, but I don’t do too much acoustic stuff. I’ve got a ’28 Dobro, and I sometimes play some slide, but not very often. I go through phases where I feel comfortable about it. It’s funny - I’ll get into doing it again and get real confident with it, and then something happens.

How about your amps. You used to use two Vibroverbs.

Yeah, I used to use two Fender Vibroverbs, two Super Reverbs and a Dumble. I had used Marshall amps years ago, and I had a real clean one. It was a first- or second-series head. 

I liked the Dumble a whole lot when I first got it, but the first one I had built, which is the best-sounding one, is messed up right now. That’s the one that’s out onstage right now. But every one I’ve had since then, they’ve all sounded worse in different ways. I don’t know what it is.

My favorite rig lately has been an old Marshall Major - the PA top with four inputs. I was looking for one. I found the head, plugged it in. If you bear down on the strings and hit hard, it will bark at you like it’s supposed to, but it doesn’t break up. The problem with taking the amps to a shop is that sometimes they come back sounding like another amp.

So right now my favorite thing is to use the old Marshall Major head and my best Dumble with two 4x12 cabinets and a Leslie - if I can keep speakers in the Leslie. A Leslie has one 10-inch or 12-inch, depending on which model it is, and running it with a 200-watt head, it goes, “Help!”

Your band has been together a good few years now.

Yeah, Tommy and I have been together off and on since 1969, although he’s only been with this band since a couple of years before Texas Flood. And Chris [Layton, drums] and I have been together going on 13 years. 

We have gone through a lot of changes. Some of them I’ve told you about, but those guys, they’ve been really supportive. We’ve gone through a lot together, and nowadays we are coming out of it. We’re learning more between each other. It’s as if we’re about to wake up again.

What are your goals both in the short term and the long term?

I’ve put my life back together, but it’s all a growing process, and that’s neat, too, because if you stop growing, what good is it musically? So that is what I’m looking forward to - growing. 

In some ways, I have been in a bit of a stagnant place for a while, for whatever reasons. I felt stagnant in my life, and it showed. It’s strange how it came about. It took my sobering up to see it. 

That’s one of the things musicians who are going through this same thing have to look forward to. In a different sense, it will seem like a real hard hump to get over. However, it’s really a blessing in disguise. It can be done. It’s a challenge. It’s kind of like starting over in a way. 

I’ve got a bit of a boost because I learned quite a bit before having to start over. Along with Chris, Reese [Wynans, keyboard player] and Tommy, I’m planning on doing a record - probably September, October, somewhere around then. They have been writing songs as well, and we will see what we can use. I’ve also got some ideas and things that I really want to do which I’ve got to finish up.

Then I’ve got a project that I want to do with my brother Jimmie. We have been thinking about this for a long time, but it has ended up being like ships in the night. We just see each other every once in a while because they [the Fabulous Thunderbirds] are either making a record or are on tour, or we are.

Every time we start planning it, one of us has to go out and do something else. More than likely, it won’t make any sense if it’s Jimmie Vaughan and Double Trouble, or Stevie Ray Vaughan and the Thunderbirds, so it will be whoever feels right for the song.

We both know how to play, and we can play well together. I learned a lot from him, and he tells me he’s learned a lot from me. It’s kind of hard for a little brother to see a big brother do that. We are both looking forward to trying this thing. [The record, 1990’s Family Style, was credited to the Vaughan Brothers.]

I would also like to do another revue, something like the last one that we did, with Jimmie and me on guitar, Tommy on bass, and Chris and George Raines on drums. Dr. John was on keyboards, and the late John Hammond was in the show. It was a real blast. We played Carnegie Hall.

There are a lot of people that I would like to work with, but right now I am trying to take things one thing at a time, and the next record project will be with the band. I am really trying to take my time and focus on that. There are a lot of things that I get sidetracked with, but it’s coming and it feels good. It is so encouraging. It really is.

Do you still love playing?

Yes. There were times when this was more apparent in the way it sounds, but this has always been the way. There’s no sense in going out there and not giving it what you’ve got, and I’ve had to do that when I did not feel up to par. It’s funny, because sometimes that’s when you can hear yourself - by playing - and you can make yourself feel better. That’s happened many times.

Well, they call music a therapy.

Yes. Well, I’m sure glad about that.

Luckily, Stevie Ray Vaughan got around in the Eighties, jamming with pretty much everyone from Jeff Beck to Eric Clapton to B.B. King to Albert King to ...

OK, maybe not everyone. But he certainly played with a host of blues and classic-rock legends, including Carlos Santana.

Above, check out some pro-shot - and just plain incredible - footage of Santana jamming with Stevie Ray Vaughan; Stevie's big brother, Jimmie Vaughan of the Fabulous Thunderbirds; and lefty guitarist Cesar Rosas of Los Lobos in early October 1988.

The show, which is available on a bootleg DVD (or so I'm told), took place at the Pacific Amphitheater in Costa Mesa, California.

You'll want to jump ahead to the 14:23 mark in the top video, which is when Santana's guests take the stage. They kick things off with "Everybody's Everything," a rollicking track with blues changes from Santana's 1971 self-titled album, during which SRV goes to town on a doubleneck Danelectro (the bottom neck sounds like a baritone).

But it only gets better from there. We see Santana exchange solos with Stevie, Jimmie and Cesar, all of whom were in great form that night. 

The medley of songs continues into the second video, where there are more closeups of SRV and his (or someone's) doubleneck guitar in action. This is also some of the best late-Eighties playing by Jimmie that I've ever seen.

Enjoy!