Despite fears that drum machines and synthesizers would eclipse the guitar in pop music, the 1980s were an incredibly fertile time for electric guitar. Virtuoso soloists like Joe Satriani and Eric Johnson landed instrumental tunes on mainstream rock radio. Steve Val was in heavy rotation on MTV playing with former Van Haien mouthpiece David Lee Roth, and even had a role in the hit film Crossroads.

Then there was Eddie Van Haien, who — after raising the rock world's collective eyebrows with his solos on 1978's Van Halen and '79s Van Halen II — kept the heat up throughout the '80s with a slew of crowd-pleasing albums. Van Halen's celebrity extended beyond guitar culture. He could be seen regularly on MTV and had a cameo on Michael Jackson's mega-single "Beat It."

But virtuoso shred wasn't the only game in town. Many bands — including the Smiths, Bauhaus and U2 — featured guitarists who consciously avoided six-string histrionics. These players were texturalists who used broad palettes of effects to color and shade their music. Their approach grew in popularity, and by the mid '80s, no serious working guitarist could show up at a gig or recording session without the requisite chorus, delay and flanger pedals, or a rack full of digital processors and multieffects.

With the 1980s several decades behind us, we decided to look at the players who molded the sound of guitar back then. We didn't do it for nostalgia's sake. After all, there's loads of inspiration to be found in the tones and ideas these players hatched back in the day. Fire up Metallica's Kill 'Em All and hear just how devastating power chords can be. Spin a Michael Hedges disc and you'll never again think of acoustic guitar as the electric's folky cousin. Throw on a Police album and you're bound to get some new tonal inspiration. Step into the Guitar Player time machine, and you'll see what we mean as we present the decade's most innovative guitarists. They launched a revolution that continues to this day.

Daniel Ash

The goth-influenced soundscapes of English art-rockers Bauhaus and subsequent splinter group Tones on Tail (basically Bauhaus, sans lead singer Peter Murphy) spotlighted Ash's edgy-but-atmospheric tones and creative use of noise. And even when TOT later changed their name to Love and Rockets, and ventured in a more song-oriented direction, Ash never strayed from his ideal of texture over flash. "I love the idea of music that sounds like it comes from another world, but you can still tap your foot to it," he told GP in 1994. "I always found the notion of solos comical — just ego wanking."

Though the EBow was an essential part of Ash's razory sound since the beginning (often pressed directly against the neck pickup), he also relied on delay, flange and tremolo pedals, and employed such tricks as banging on a reverb-equipped amp to coax guitar sounds that were indistinguishable from synths, samples or industrial machinery.

KEY TRACKS "Bela Lugosi's Dead," "Terror Couple Kill Colonel," "Stigmata Martyr," "Hot Trip to Heaven"

1980s GEAR Burns guitars, H&H IC100S amp, Heet Sound EBow, DOD chorus and tremolo pedals, Watkins Copicat tape echo — AT

Adrian Belew

In an era when many guitarists felt threatened by the expansive sonic possibilities of synthesizers, Belew single-handedly proved the guitar to be a limitless tool for unheard-of sounds that no synth could match — from beautiful whale moans to jarring electronic screams. His mind-blowing sonic assaults made him one of the preeminent experimental rock guitarists of the 1980s, and landed him work with King Crimson, Laurie Anderson and David Bowie (on 1979's Lodger, then as Bowie's musical director for the '86 Sound and Vision tour). And Belew's not just a "noise" guy — he's also a master of subtlety. Listen to the Tom Tom Club's hit "Genius of Love." What sounds like a steel drum is actually Belew tapping the strings with one hand while manipulating the resonance control of an ADA flanger.

Belew's contributions to Talking Heads' 1980 release, Remain in Light, still stand as some of rock guitar's most monumentally creative offerings. "Talking Head's music at the time was very funk driven, one-chord stuff — a huge canvas for a guitarist to go wild," Belew told GP in 1990.

KEY TRACKS "The Great Curve" (with Talking Heads). "Elephant Talk" (with King Crimson). "Big Electric Cat," "Twang Bar King" (solo)

1980s GEAR Fender Strat, two modified Fender Mustangs, Roland JC-120 amplifiers, Foxx Tone Machine, various Electro-Harmonix and MXR effects units — DF

Warren Cuccurullo

To legions of pop fans, Missing Persons was all about Dale Bozzio. But as self-conscious and tragically trendy as the L.A. band's image may have been, the "guys" (bassist Patrick O'Hearn, drummer Terry Bozzio, and guitarist Warren Cuccurullo) were absolutely murderous players. All were alumni of Frank Zappa bands, and Cuccurullo's obsession with electronics would help forge Missing Persons into one of the '80s most modern-sounding acts. His massively processed textures, lush distortion washes and soaring, synth-like lines added mystery and excitement to what were, for the most part, merely clever pop songs. And, like Missing Persons' costuming and staging, Cuccurullo's contribution to guitarcraft was scrupulously calculated.

"I want to cut my own niche in rock guitar playing," he said in a February 1985 GP interview. "I want to be easily identifiable and known as a little wiz."

KEY TRACKS "Destination Unknown," "Give," "Mental Hopscotch," "Walking in LA.," "Words"

1980s GEAR Gibson SG and ES-335, self-designed "Missing Link" solidbody (with two necks joined by a loop), custom Performance guitar, custom Vox (assembled from a Vox wah, a Vox neck, and Vox pickups), 100-watt Marshall head and 4x12 cabinet, Garvin X-100B head, Mesa/Boogie head, ADA Flanger, Foxx Tone Machine, Heet Sound EBow, Lexicon Prime Tune, Maestro Super Fuzz, Morley Echo/ Volume, Mu-Tron III, MXR Pitch Transposer — MM

Elliot Easton

With a sound that was as far from macho '70s rock as possible, the Cars were possibly the quintessential '80s band. Looking back on his days in the group, Elliot Easton feels it was no accident that they forged one of rock's most individual and identifiable sounds. "Our different influences made us sound the way we did," he says. "Certain factions of the band were into the technological advances — keyboards and things — while my influences were Moby Grape, the Grateful Dead, and a lot of Memphis soul and New Orleans R&B. There was always a creative rub in the band that made the Cars unique."

On the group's pre-'85 records — The Cars and Candy-O — Easton managed to sneak hot country guitar ("My Best Friend's Girl") and clever bluesy solos ("Bye Bye Love") into the band's poppy tunes. "I never related to the 'skinny-tie' scene," Easton says. “And I was never impressed with the punk-guitar ethic. That whole primitive style of guitar playing is just not what I'm about." What Easton is about is simple. "I think I have a knack for making a song happen," he told GP in '86. "And that's a big get-off for me."

KEY TRACKS "Cruiser," "Magic," "Shake It Up," "Since You're Gone"

1980s GEAR Fender Strat and Telecaster ("I'm a twanger at heart" he says), mono Gibson ES-355, Guild Nightbird and Flyer, Rickenbacker 12-string electric, custom-made Kramer solidbody, assorted Dean solidbodies, assorted amps (including Lab Series, Pearce, Marshall JCM 800, various Fenders and Mesa/Boogies), Boss delay and chorus, Pro Co Rat, Scholz Rockman — DF

The Edge

When the relentless, echo washed lines of "I Will Follow" hit the airwaves in 1980, it was immediately obvious that the world had changed. The cutting-yet-ambient guitar soundscapes were so different from anything else heard at the time that The Edge became an instant guitar hero. However, due to the band's youth — The Edge was only 19 when U2's debut was released — more than a few guitarists assumed that a non-technical player had simply stumbled onto a few glib tricks. Not so.

"I was struck by the fact that groups such as Television had a well-defined sound that was like no one else’s,” The Edge said in the June '85 issue of Guitar Player. "So when we started putting material together, it was always in my mind that we had to find what we could do that was different. The most important thing is that we maintain a certain originality in everything we do."

The Edge remained true to his quest for individuality throughout the '80s, providing fans with thrilling, almost cinematic textures, and challenging other guitarists to re-evaluate their relationship with their instrument "There's no reason on earth why guitar players should copy one another and end up sounding the same," he declared.

KEY TRACKS "Gloria," "I Will Follow," "Sunday Bloody Sunday," "Where the Streets Have No Name," "With or Without You"

1980s GEAR Gibson Explorer, Fender Strat and Tele, Vox AC30, Mesa/Boogie MK-IIC, Boss SCC-700 Effects Center, Electro-Harmonix Memory Man, Korg SDD-3000 digital delay, Yamaha D1500 digital delay and R1000 digital reverb, MXR Pitch Transposer — MM

Billy Gibbons

ZZ Top was already a huge concert act when the advent of MTV in the early '80s gave the "little ol' band from Texas" an opportunity to boogie its way to unprecedented heights. Video images of the bearded mysteriosos with their custom coupe accompanied hit after hit from the 1983 release Eliminator, and behind it all was Top's enigmatic guitarist, Billy Gibbons.

The trademark pick harmonics, stubby solos and grinding riffs that fueled Eliminator and the subsequent Afterburner were old tricks for Gibbons, but his streamlined approach to playing over sequenced grooves made it easy to forget that blues was still the magma at ZZ's core.

As Gibbons explained to GP in 1986, "Try as we might to spice up our sound with synthesizers and this and that, it basically comes down to a few moments of bluesiness that we want to hold onto. That's where we came from, and that's pretty much what we'd like to keep stabbing at."

KEY TRACKS "Dipping Low (In the Lap of Luxury)," "Planet of Women," "Sleeping Bag," "Velcro Fly," "Under Pressure"

1980s GEAR Dean Z, Tom Holmes customs, Strings & Things St. Blues (Strat-style guitar), Roland GR-700 synth, Fairlight digital workstation, Fender and Marshall amps, Scholz Rockman, Roland Dimension D, Ibanez rack effects — AT

Michael Hedges

While the electric guitar was everywhere in the 1980s, the decade also ushered in a rising interest in virtuoso solo acoustic guitar players. The Windham Hill label was the launching pad for many of these guitarists, including William Ackerman (who headed the label) and Alex de Grassi.

Then along came Michael Hedges — with a style that encompassed some of the lyrical, contrapuntal approaches of his labelmates, and also incorporated funky rhythms, minimalist song structures and jazz-inspired chord voicings. As Hedges said in the February '85 Guitar Player, “Ackerman and de Grassi have good rhythm. It's just not as kinetic as mine. They're great impressionists and romantic players, but that doesn't come naturally to me."

Hedges showcased his composing and performing chops on his '81 debut, Breakfast in the Field and the '84 followup, Aerial Boundaries. The latter album featured Hedges' stupefying, one-man-band arrangements, with percussive two-handed tapping and a host of extended-range tunings. Hedges had, in effect, broken the four-minute mile, forever expanding the boundaries of what players and listeners thought was possible in the solo-acoustic realm.

KEY TRACKS "Aerial Boundaries," "The Happy Couple," "Hot Type," "Rickover's Dream," "Spare Change"

1980s GEAR Martin D-28 and00-18, Dyer harp-guitar — AL

James Hetfield

"There was the real glammy stuff when we were starting out playing the clubs in L.A. — the Mötley Crües and the Ratts," James Hetfield said in the April '89 GP. "Music was based around the singer, and no one was really riffing."

With Metallica's first three records, Kill ‘Em All, Ride the Lightning, and Master of Puppets, Hetfield single-handedly changed that, and metal was never the same. Performed with Gibson Flying V or ESP Explorer-style guitars and Mesa/Boogie Mark II heads, Hetfield's punishing lock-step riffs spawned several copy-cat bands, as well as a legion of young, denim jacket-clad guitarists hell-bent on learning Metallica tunes — not the solos, but Hetfield's speedy power-chord riffs, performed almost solely on heavy downstrokes. "That's key!” he said. “It's tighter sounding and a lot chunkier.”

KEY TRACKS "Creeping Death," "Eye of the Beholder," "For Whom the Bell Tolls," "Four Horsemen," "Whiplash"

1980s GEAR Gibson Flying V, ESP Explorer-style solidbody (loaded with EMG pickups), Mesa/Boogie Mark II heads — DF

Allan Holdsworth

In 1980, Allan Holdsworth — a veteran of U.K., Bill Bruford, Tony Williams and Jean-Luc Ponty — formed his groundbreaking quartet, I.O.U. He described the band's music in the December '80 Guitar Player as having "some elements of jazz and rock, but we try not to be overly tricky."

Compared to what? The music on the band's '82 debut, I.O.U., was teeming with modulating time signatures and circuitous chord progressions — in other words, tricky. Holdsworth's unique style featured clarion-toned, legato solos and a unique chordal approach. Only guitarists with brave hearts and pliant hands worked their way through Holdsworth's '85 book of compositions Reaching for the Uncommon Chord.

Holdsworth began looking to guitar synths for new sounds around '85, but because he was prone to playing blazingly fast, synth controllers could barely make sense of what his hands were doing. He eventually found that the Synth-Axe could keep up, and he featured the instrument prominently on his '86 album, Atavachron.

KEY TRACKS "Devil Take the Hindmost," "Panic Station," "Road Games," "Three Sheets to the Wind," "Where Is One"

1980s GEAR Custom Charvel single-humbucker electrics, Ibanez AH-10, SynthAxe, various amps (including Hartley-Thompson, Pearce, Fender and Sundown), Steelmaster volume pedal, Yamaha E-1010 analog delay, two ADA STD-1 stereo tapped delays (one for clean tones, one for dirty). — AL

Eric Johnson

Like Roy Buchanan and Danny Gatton, Eric Johnson initially gained prominence as a result of other guitarists singing his praises. Steve Morse, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Johnny Wffiter and Billy Gibbons were among those who raved about Johnson in interviews. Not a prolific recording artist, Johnson developed his legendary rep based on a radical '84 Austin City Limits performance and the 1986 album Tones, his only release of the decade.

With a rocker's ears, a cellist's hands and an alchemist's curiosity, Johnson forged a signature sound from fluid, multi-octave arpeggios, buttery bends, cascading pentatonic runs, and chimey, close-voiced harmonies. He proved that one could coax sweet, violin-like sustain from a Strat while cruising up and down its fretboard with flawless intonation. It was Johnson who got guitarists thinking about cable impedance and directionality, the timbral differences between germanium and silicon transistors, and carbon-zinc and alkaline batteries. While the rest of the planet was exploring the multichannel amp, he perfected the triple-amp rig. By making us aware of each element in the signal chain, Johnson elevated electric guitar tone to a science.

KEY TRACKS "Cliffs of Dover," "Soulful Terrain," "Rail of Tears"

1980s GEAR '54 Fender Shut, two Fender Twin Reverbs (driving an open-back Marshall 4x12 cab), Dumble Steel String Singer, Dumble Overdrive Special, 100-watt Marshall heads driving Marshall 4x12 cabs, Ibanez TS-9 Tube Screamer, Paul C's Tube Driver, TC Electronic Sustainer, Electro-Harmonix Deluxe Memory Man, Echoplex — AE

Mark Knopfler

Using phasoidal Strat tones, poignant bends and snarky double-stops, Mark Knopfler established himself in the late '70s as a soulful and melodic player — and one who preferred to pick with his fingers! But in '85, with the release of Brothers in Arms, Knopfler and his band Dire Straits hit the musical jackpot. In addition to scoring massive worldwide sales, the album provided Knopfler an opportunity to stretch out as an arranger, songwriter and ensemble leader. His guitar tones expanded to include throaty Les Paul riffs and darker, distorted Strat lines, and he began to explore extended themes involving guitar, keyboards and woodwinds. Released when many listeners were buying their first CDs, Brothers in Arms also became an audio benchmark.

Even today, many engineers use tracks from this beautifully focused recording to fine-tune stage and studio sound systems. Many of Knopfler's new musical ideas emerged from his film scoring experiences, which began in '83 with the magical soundtrack to Local Hero. Cal, The Princess Bride, and Last Exit to Brooklyn followed.

No other guitarist has so successfully combined the twin careers of solo artist and film composer. For Knopfler, each discipline strengthens the other: His albums have become timbrally richer and more thematically complex, and his scores have benefited from his soaring solos and tinkling resonator guitar work.

KEY TRACKS "Brothers in Arms," "Going Home," "Money for Nothing," "Walk of Life"

1980s GEAR Strat-style Schecter with Seymour Duncan pickups, Strat-style Pensa-Suhr with EMG pickups, '53 Gibson Super 400, '58 Gibson Les Paul, '36 Style "0" National, Ovation Adamas, Gibson Chet Atkins solidbody classical, twin 100-watt Soldano heads driving two EV-loaded 4x12 Marshall cabs, rackmounted CryBaby wah, Ernie Ball volume pedal — AE

Steve Lukather

In every decade there's an elite group of studio guitarists who seem to get all the top sessions. In the '70s, it was Larry Carlton and Louie Shelton. In the '90s, Michael Landau, Tim Pierce and Brent Mason ruled the roost.

But in the '80s, it was Steve Lukather. His Reagan-era credits include albums by Eric Clapton, Stevie Nicks, Aretha Franklin, Michael Jackson, Don Henley, the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Joni Mitchell, Manhattan Transfer, Paul McCartney, Chet Atkins and many others. His tight chord work and tasty-yet-muscular solos helped sell literally hundreds of millions of records.

Lukather also had success with his own band Toto — particularly with the 1982 release Toto IV, which enjoyed multi-Platinum sales, hit singles and a sweep of that year's Grammy awards. Through it all, Luke has remained a regular guy who is just happy to play guitar. "I know I'm very lucky," he told GP in June 2000. "I've had the chance to work with all my heroes. My career is a dream come true."

KEY TRACKS 'Africa," "Rosanna" (with Toto). "Dirty Laundry" (with Don Henley). "Running with the Night" (with Lionel Ritchie). "She's a Beauty" (with the Tubes)

1980s GEAR '63 Fender Strat, '59 Gibson Les Paul, Gibson 15, custom Ibanez electrics, Paul Rivera–modified 100-watt Marshalls and Fender Deluxes, Fender Concert Lexicon Prime Time delay, Eventide H910 Harmonizer, Roland SRE-555 Chorus/Echo, various Ibanez multi-effectors — MB

George Lynch

One of the original hot-shot LA metal players, Dokken guitarist George Lynch had chops to burn but always kept them in check with a tasty vibrato and keen sense of melody. When Randy Rhoads left his guitar teaching job for the Ozzy Osbourne gig, he insisted Lynch fill his shoes and take over his students. Not a bad referral.

The majority of Lynch's Aqua Net–glazed fury can be found in his super-charged solos. "I think a typical George Lynch solo should have melody and build to a climax," he told GP in 1986. "Speed is also important. People may get down on that, but it's impressive and it gives the solo energy" Aside from his stellar lead work, Lynch's wicked, tritone-laced riffing absolutely defined the hard rock "hair band" sound for the next several years.

KEY TRACKS "It's Not Love," "Lightning Strikes," "Mr. Scary," "Paris Is Burning"

1980s GEAR Various custom guitars (including Charvel, ESP, and Kramer solidbodies), Aria acoustic, vintage Marshall heads and cabs, Randall amplifiers — DF

Yngwie Malmsteen

The Swedish shred king first hit our pages in Mike Varney's February 1983 Spotlight column. Soon after, Malmsteen came to the States and joined Hollywood metal-rockers Steeler. After working on their '83 album, Steeler, he quickly outgrew the band's limited scope and left to join Alcatrazz. His tenure didn't last long — after recording just one studio album, No Parole from Rock 'n' Roll, he left Alcatrazz to concentrate on his own band, Rising Force, where Malmsteen was finally able to realize his artistic vision.

With intricate original compositions — inspired by classical composers J.S. Bach and Nicolo Paganini — and extended-play solos, Malmsteen tolled the bell for all who had ears to hear: He was the new king of Shred Hill.

KEY TRACKS "Black Star," "Evil Eye," "Far Beyond the Sun" "Icarus' Dream Suite," "Marching Out."

1980s GEAR 1969 Fender Stratocaster (and other Strats of similar vintage, all with scalloped fingerboards), modified 1971 Marshall 50-watt heads, Marshall 4x12 cabinets (with Celestion G-65 speakers), DOD Overdrive Preamp 250, Korg SDD-1000 rackmount digital delay, Fender extra-heavy picks ("I couldn't play with anything else,' he said in the May '85 GP) — AL

Johnny Marr

Armed with a huge palette of tones and a savvy sense for turning oddball chord sequences into hit

songs, the Smith's Johnny Marr forged a guitar style that incorporated '60s primitivism, '70s funkiness

and gobs of Byrds-style chime. Two of the many things that set him apart from his '80s-era contemporaries were his disdain for guitar solos ("I like improvisation in the right place, but I find most solos corny") and his natural ability to create unique clashes by superimposing major and minor modes. "I use a thumbpick,” he told us, “because when you have all five fingers going, your fingers go to progressions you don't even know you're doing.”

Marr's bright, jangly tones always sounded huge without the benefit of distortion, and his spine-chilling slide intro on the pulsating "How Soon Is Now" remains one of the most distinctive guitar sounds ever recorded. Following the breakup of the Smiths in 1987, Marr appeared on albums by the Talking Heads, the Pretenders, Electronic, The The, Paul McCartney, Kirsty MacColl, Bryan Ferry and others.

KEY TRACKS "How Soon Is Now?,” "This Charming Man," "What Difference Does It Make?,” “The Headmaster Ritual," "The Violence of Truth"

1980s GEAR Epiphone Casino, Fender Strat, Gibson ES-335, Gibson Les Paul, Martin D-28, Rickenbacker 330, Fender Bassman, Fender Showman, Fender Twin Reverb, Mesa/Boogie Quad Preamp, Roland JC-120, Dunlop Cry Baby wah, Eventide Harmonizer, Roland GP-8, T.C. Electronic 2290, Yamaha GEP50 — AT

Prince

It's difficult to find an '80s artist more prolific or cutting-edge than Prince, who ushered in the decade with the release of Dirty Mind. On this record of slamming funk rhythms and catchy melodies, Prince was credited as playing guitar, bass, drums and keyboards — as well as singing, producing, arranging and writing all the tunes.

Controversy followed in '81, but it was his '83 album, 1999, that gave him his first taste of superstardom. The infectious title track, with its sinewy chord stabs and slippery wah figures, became an instant classic. Prince's dry, in-your-face rhythm parts set the standard for funk rock in the '80s. Purple Rain took things higher still, with strong tunes and even bolder guitar work. His trademark funk rhythms abound on Purple Rain, but it was the blazing solos on tunes such as "When Doves Cry" and "Let's Go Crazy" that turned guitarists' heads. With over-the top distortion, squealing feedback, and a flamboyant persona (that drew on Hendrix, Little Richard and James Brown influences), Prince the Guitar Hero had arrived.

Prince would go on to release six more albums in the '80s, changing stylistic gears with each record. This incessant self-reinvention confused and alienated some fans, but many of them were brought back into the fold with 1987's Sign O’ the Times, which showed Prince's heavier side (on the title track), as well as his pop stylings ("I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man" and "U Got the Look").

KEY TRACKS "Baby I'm a Star," "Sign O’ the Times," "When Doves Cry" "I Would Die 4 U," "1999"

1980s GEAR Fender Telecaster, Hohner Tele copy, Mesa/Boogie amps, Boss pedals — MB

Trevor Rabin

Seminal prog-rock band Yes had apparently seen the rising and setting of its sun in the 1970s, with nine albums and several hits (including "Roundabout," "Long Distance Runaround" and "Yours Is No Disgrace"). Then, just as 1983 was winding up, South African guitarist/vocalist/producer Trevor Rabin brought his cache of songs to founding members Chris Squire (bass) and Jon Anderson (vocals), and resurrected Yes with the smash 90125, an album rife with slick production, radio-friendly hooks and tactile, layered guitars. Although Rabin's harmonized leads are arguably the most memorable color of his tonal spectrum, his inventive use of modern gear proffered a wealth of tones — from super-compressed clean to crunchy to sweetly sustaining. Even his acoustic guitar tones were amazingly distinctive. In short, Rabin's command of tonal shades proved him to be both a brilliant texturalist and a fiery lead player.

KEY TRACKS "Changes," "Hearts" and ”Owner of a Lonely Heart" (with Yes). "Can't Look Away," "Etoile Noir" (solo)

1980s GEAR '62 Fender Stratocaster (with Seymour Duncan stacked humbuckers and Schaller tuners), two Ernie Ball volume pedals (one for regular volume, one for echo volume), and various MXR pedals (including a Pitch Transposer, a Dyna Comp, a 10-Band graphic EQ, an analog delay, a Distortion+, a flanger and an envelope filter), MXR 15-band EQ and digital reverb rack units, Roland SRE-555 Chorus/Echo — SH

Vernon Reid

Besides blurring color lines as one of the few all-black hard rock bands on the scene, Living Colour launched a whole new sound with their ingenious blend of funk, avant-garde jazz and metal. Guitarist Vernon Reid's massive, Zeppelin-influenced rifling, grinding dissonance, and furiously chromatic solos were masterfully balanced with slithering dance grooves, complex chording and adventurous use of new technology, including samplers and guitar synths, that he combined with his ESP and Hamer Superstrats.

KEY TRACKS "Cult of Personality," "Glamour Boys," "Middle Man," "Open Letter to a Landlord"

1980s GEAR Hamer Chapparal and ESP Strat-style guitars with Floyd Rose tremolos and EMG pickups (two single-coils and a humbucker), Cry Baby wah, Korg volume pedal, Roland GP-8, DigiTech DSP-128, Dean Markley CD-120 1x12 combo and Fender Dual Showman head driving Fender 4x12s, Mesa/Boogie Quad Preamp and Strategy 400 power amp, ADA MP-1, Boogie 4x12 cabinets — SH

Randy Rhoads

Many thought Ozzy Osboume's career was finished when he was fired from the pioneering heavy metal band Black Sabbath in 1978. However, thanks to his discovery of the brilliant, classically trained guitarist Randy Rhoads, Osbourne emerged triumphant in 1980 with Blizzard of Ozz — an album that is still regarded as one of metal's finest. As one of the few hard rock guitarists of the early '80s who didn't jump on the Van Haien bandwagon, 22-year-old Rhoads introduced the world to a distinctive tone and unmistakable style that bristled with blinding pull-off licks, staccato rhythms, and chromatic solo flurries. Despite a sparse discography, Rhoads has gone down in history as one of heavy metal's most original guitarists.

KEY TRACKS "Crazy Train," "Dee," "Flying High Again," "I Don't Know"

1980s GEAR Gibson Les Paul, custom V-shaped electric with DiMarzio pickups, Grover Jackson–designed shark’s-fin guitars equipped with Seymour Duncan pickups, Dunlop Cry Baby, Korg delay, 100- watt Marshall heads through Marshall 4x12 cabinets with Altec speakers, MXR Distortion+, EQ, chorus, and flanger pedals — SH

joe Satriani

In the early '80s, Joe Satiani was a guitar teacher in Berkeley, California, with a couple of band projects and some sessions under his belt. By 1987, he was on the cover of every guitar magazine in the world, thanks to Surfing with the Alien.

With dazzling technique, high-energy tunes and extreme guitar tones, Satch proved that all the rumors of his greatness (some of which were started by his former student, Steve Vai) were true. And he did something that very few guitar heroes have done — sell records.

Surfing was a smash hit with guitarists and non-guitarists alike, and Satriani would enjoy further success with his subsequent releases and tours. He was also picked by Mick Jagger to go on the road and cover parts originally played by Keith Richards and Jeff Beck.

Looking back on his debutante decade, Satch told us, "Making the transition from giving lessons in the back of a store to being the Surfing with the Alien guy and Mick's lead guitarist was a completely mind- and life-altering experience."

KEY TRACKS "Circles," "Hordes of Locusts," "Ice 9," "Mystical Potato Head Groove Thing," "Satch Boogie"

1980s GEAR Homemade Strat-style guitars, Ibanez solidbodies, 100-watt Marshall amps, Scholz Rockman, Echoplexes, Boss CE-1 chorus — MB

Neal Schon

As a teenager in 1970, Neal Schon achieved Northern California royalty status by joining Carlos Santana's band. A couple of years later, Schon formed his own group, Journey, which became increasingly popular with its Santana-esque brand of jam rock. At the close of the '70s, however, Journey found their winningest formula when they added vocalist Steve Perry and moved in a more pop-rock direction. When the '80s rolled in, Schon was the guitarist — and one of the chief songwriters — of a veritable hit machine.

What set him apart from most other popsters of the decade, however, was his stellar guitar work. Schon's punchy, intricate rhythm parts — and his soaring leads that blended melodicism, dynamics and fiery chops — earned him unshakeable street cred among guitar freaks. His two albums with keyboard god Jan Hammer further cemented his rep as a player, making him the first choice as a jam partner when guitarists such as Gary Moore, Eddie Van Haien and Jeff Beck came to town.

KEY TRACKS "Walks Like a Lady" "Stone in Love," "Girl Can't Help It" (with Journey). "I'm Down," "No More Lies" (with Jan Hammer)

1980s GEAR 1963 Fender Strat, Gibson Les Pauls, Aria Pro II, various amps (including Peavey Mace, Fender, Marshall and Mesa/Boogies), Electro-Harmonix Hot Tubes — MB

John Scofield

Celebrating his blues and funk influences — and attacking the electric guitar as a truly electric instrument,

with bluesy bends and chorus-tweaked tones — John Scofield brought an earthy vibe to jazz's heady mindset. He was also one of the '80s most versatile jazz guitarists, performing with Miles Davis, pianist McCoy Tyner and the French National Orchestra.

"One thing I learned from Miles Davis," Scofield said in '84, "is not to be afraid to play what you hear. In other words, just play what you feel. Miles was a master of the fine art of letting things happen naturally"

Scofield spent much of the '80s expanding the progressive ideology that began with his Davis tenure by working with contemporary jazz-funk rhythm sections. Then in 1989, he bid the decade farewell with Time on My Hands, a stinting return to the acoustic jazz realm.

KEY TRACKS 'All the Things You Are," "Pick Hits," "Techno," "Who's Who" (solo). "What It Is" (with Miles Davis)

1980s GEAR Gibson ES-335 and ES-175, Ibanez Artist AS-200, Polytone Mini-Brute IV, Music Man 410-HD, Sundown amps, Ibanez stereo chorus and stereo reverb, Pro Co Rat, Boss Octaver — MM

Brian Setzer

They had the look, the attitude and the wild-boy flash of rockabilly rebels, but while MTV pumped up the fashion factor for video fanatics, the Stray Cats were more than mere cartoons. Credibility came howling from Brian Setzer's Gretsch 6120, with a lead style that honored the genre's heroes while simultaneously nudging rockabilly into uptown duds. Setzer was channeling Django Reinhardt and other jazz greats along with hellraisers such as Carl Perkins, Cliff Gallup and Paul Burlison.

"When I first heard Cliff Gallup," said Setzer in the September '83 Guitar Player, "he was kind of what I wanted to be — a jazzy rockabilly player. He really sent me."

But while Setzer's head was sometimes transcending rockabilly conventions, his tones were totally true blue. "I use the middle-pickup position on my Gretsch," he explained in '83. "I usually turn the presence up full on my Bassman, and the volume to about four or five — just to the point where it's about to distort. The volume is so low, I could play in my bedroom and it would be fine. I usually put the bass around five, and the treble up to eight. I set the echo for one repeat almost directly after the original note — bop, bop. It's pretty tight."

Shooting the Cats beyond the tattoos and haircuts of lesser rockabilly contenders was the fact that Setzer was absolutely immersed in the style. He got it. "The early rockabilly stuff is basically a country guitarist trying to play rock and roll guitar — which is a mixture of black blues and white country" he said. "It's a feel. A lot of people put the cart before the horse. They think they've got to buy a '58 Gretsch and an old Fender amp. That stuff is great, but you've got to have the feel."

KEY TRACKS "18 Miles to Memphis," "Double Talkin Baby" "Rock this Town," "(She's) Sexy & 17," "Stray Cat Strut"

1980s GEAR 1959 Gretsch 6120 Chet Atkins, '60s blond Fender Bassman, NCR Analog Delay, Dean Markley strings (.010 or .011 set) — MM

Robert Smith

As main guitarist and visionary for what has been called "the world's biggest cult band," Smith graced the nine Cure albums released during the '80s with moody, multicolored guitar. Listen to what lurks behind any of the Cure's hooky vocal melodies and you'll likely find complex patterns of intersecting guitar parts that swirl around the main line to create an energetic and enticing backdrop.

Able to visualize the entire song during the recording process, Smith typically recorded all the guitars himself, adding depth and color to his six-string tapestries by incorporating open tunings and tracking each part with varying degrees of distortion and/or effects.

Alternative instruments also factored heavily into Smith's sonic sculpting. As he told GP in 1992, "The whole Faith album [released in '81] has six-string bass. I think when people talk about the 'Cure sound,' they mean songs based on six-string bass guitar, acoustic guitar and the Solina (a.k.a. the ARP String Ensemble)." One of Smith's more oddball studio tricks involved detuning each of his guitars' high E strings a few cents apart to create natural chorusing effects when the individual tracks were mixed together.

KEY TRACKS "The Blood," "Fascination Street," "Love Cats," "Other Voices "

1980s GEAR Fender Jazzmaster, Gibson Chet Atkins, Ovation six- and 12-string acoustics, '62 Fender Bass VI, Peavey amps, Dunlop Cry Baby, Boss pedals (chorus, delay, flange, phase, and overdrive) — AT

Steve Stevens

A central figure in Billy Idol's aggressive mix of punk, new wave, heavy metal and dance music, Steve Stevens wrote the book on balancing texture and technique. “I try to avoid the lead guitar-solo syndrome," he told GP in 1984. "My approach is more sonic than actual notes — if you have a really brilliant sound together, you don't have to play all that many notes."

Stevens elevated the songs he and Idol wrote into a realm that blurred the line between Ozzy-approved pyrotechnics and Bauhaus-style noise-art. Wielding short, fierce solos, feedback assaults, trem-bar antics and sci-fl-style sound effects, he furnished Idol's Rebel Yell with wall-to-wall guitar. But when the following release, Whiplash Smile, took a more techo-oriented turn, the guitarist decided it was time to get his own band together.

Stevens' inventive guitar playing resurfaced in full force on his 1989 solo debut Atomic Playboys, a release that gave Stevens the opportunity to indulge his hard-rock side, as well as his interests in R&B, pop-jazz, and John McLaughlin–style acoustic work. "I never wanted to lose the acoustic part of my playing," Stevens said. "I always loved the way that people like Robert Fripp, Steve Howe and Steve Hackett could be acoustic players, but also utilize effects."

KEY TRACKS: "Atomic Playboys" (solo). "Eyes Without A Face," "Flesh For Fantasy" "Rebel Yell," "White Wedding" (with Billy Idol)

1980s GEAR '53 Gibson Les Paul, Hamer Steve Stevens Signature, custom Suhr Strat-style, custom Jackson, Guild acoustics, Roland GR-700 synth, Marshall IMP and KM 800 heads, Vox AC30, Boss effects (CS-2 compressor, 0C-2 Octaver, CE-2 chorus), Vox Clyde McCoy and Cry Baby wahs, Pro Co Rat, Eventide 999 Harmonizer, Lexicon PCM-41 multi-effector, Maestro Echoplex, Roland rack effects (SDE-3000, SRE-555, Dimension D), Scholz Rockman — AT

Andy Summers

The Police launched in 1978 with the release of Outlandos d'Amour, and the band hit their stride in the early '80s with Zenyatta Mondatta and Ghost in the Machine. Vocalist/bassist Sting was the Police's chief songwriter, but Andy Summers had a more vital role in shaping the band's sound. His novel chord voicings, off-beat (in both senses) rhythm grooves, and shimmering chorus and delay-laden tones were essential to Police hits such as "De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da."

In the January 2001 issue of Guitar Player, Summers revealed that "procedure by negation" was the key to sculpting his unique guitar voice. "Back in my Police days," he said, "I thought, Everyone's still jamming on power chords. I don't want to do what everyone else is doing, so what am I left with?"

One thing Summers did to outstrip the Joneses was to avoid distortion or overdrive — except as a last resort. (The solo on "Driven to Tears" showcases his dirty side.) Another Summers-ism was to use add9 chords in place of standard barres and power chords. ("Every Breath You Take" is built almost entirely around major and minor add9 chords.) He also avoided the cliché of extended solos, favoring brief, personal anti-solos. (Check out his synthed-out breakdown on "Don't Stand So Close to Me.")

Ironically, Summers' innovations were embraced by legions of post-Police guitarists, rendering his specialties nearly as common as the generic affectations he sought to avoid.

KEY TRACKS "Driven To Tears," "Every Breath You Take," "Message in a Bottle," "One World," "Walking on the Moon"

1980s GEAR 1963 Fender Telecaster Custom (with Gibson humbucker in the neck position), Roland guitar synths (G-303 or G-707 controller guitar with GR-300 or GR-700 synth module), various amps (including Mesa/Boogies and Marshalls), Electro-Harmonix Electric Mistress flanger, Musitronics Mu-Tron III envelope filter, Roland RE-301 Chorus Echo, Echoplec, MXR pedals (Distortion+, Phase 90, analog delay and Dyna Comp) — AL

Steve Vai

The first murmurings of Steve Vai's talent began when he was credited with "impossible guitar parts" on Frank Zappa's Man from Utopia. His first solo album, Flex-Able, showed what Vai could do when left to his own devices — namely, creating wacky tunes that proudly displayed his Zappa influence and his stunning chops. Filling the shoes vacated by Yngwie Malmsteen, Vai joined Alcatrazz for one incredible album, Disturbing the Peace. Criminally under-promoted and underappreciated, the album features songwriting, tones and arrangements that can hang with Vai's most celebrated work.

His next move, to David Lee Roth's band, brought Val squarely into the spotlight with one of the most high-profile rock gigs of the decade. He also recorded and/or toured with Whitesnake and PIL in a decade where it seemed as if there was nothing he couldn't do.

KEY TRACKS "The Attitude Song," "Viv Woman" (solo). "Jazz Discharge Party Hats" (with Frank Zappa). "Painted Lover" (with Alcatrazz). "Shy Boy," "Skyscraper" (with David Lee Roth)

1980s GEAR: '78 Fender Strat with DiMarzio X2N bridge pickup, custom Charvels, various Ibanez JEM models, Carvin X-100B amp, 100-watt Marshall, Roland SDE-3000 delay, Boss SD-1 Super OverDrive. — MB

Eddie Van Haien

Van Halen's 1978 debut — and Eddie Van Halen's "Eruption" solo, in particular — breathed new life into rock and sent hordes of guitarists scrambling to the woodshed. However, Van Halen continued to leave jaws agape throughout the '80s. Though two-handed tapping, whammy-bar abuse and raging staccato licks are the most conspicuous marks of his signature sound, Van Haien also surprised the guitar galaxy with deft slide work, intricate classical-flavored pieces and impeccable rhythm playing. His influence on subsequent generations simply can't be overstated. Eddie Van Halen stands as one of guitar's most far-reaching and important innovators.

KEY TRACKS "Cathedral," “Could This Be Magic," "Hot for Teacher," "Little Guitars" and "Mean Street"

1980s GEAR Charvel Strat-style guitar (with a '58 Strat bridge — later exchanged for a Floyd Rose — and a Gibson PAF humbucker), custom Kramers (with PAFs or Seymour Duncans and Floyd Roses), MXR Phase 90 and Flanger pedals, Echoplex, Lexicon PCM-70, Eventide 949 Harmonizer, Roland SDE-3000 delay, Variac-equipped 100-watt Marshall plead heads with Marshall 4x12s — SH

Stevie Ray Vaughan

At a time when drum machines ruled and it was hipper to own a Roland G-707 synth guitar than a '62 Strat, Stevie Ray Vaughan pushed bare-knuckle blues back onto the airwaves. Ironically, most listeners first heard Vaughan as a sideman on David Bowie's club-oriented Let's Dance. In '83, pop radio was dominated by new wave and synth bands, so Vaughan's stinging Strat tones and Albert King–inspired bends in "China Girl" and "Let's Dance" sounded downright revolutionary. That same year, Vaughan's bluesy debut, Texas Flood, hit the Top 40 and established the 29-year-old as a bona fide guitar hero. For the first time in more than a decade, it was cool to play blues.

For the next seven years, Vaughan never strayed from his roots, recording taut, guitar-driven R&B with his Lone Star confederates, Double Trouble. Whether reinterpreting Hendrix and Howlin' Wolf, or pounding out an original R&B shuffle, Vaughan infused each note with palpable tension. You can witness his blend of feral energy and superb technique in Live at the El Mocambo, a video shot in a sweaty Toronto nightclub in '83. Because of its unwavering honesty, Vaughan's music remains as popular as ever.

KEY TRACKS "Lenny," "Love Struck Baby," "Pride and Joy," "Texas Flood," "Voodoo Chile (Slight Return)"

1980s GEAR '59 sunburst Fender Strat, a pair of sequentially serial-numbered '63 Fender Vibroverb 1x15 combos, Fender Vibratone, Ibanez TS-9 Tube Screamer — AE

Jamie West-Oram

Punctuating the Fixx's radio hits with his chorused, squeaky-clean Strat tones, Jamie West-Oram was one of the most identifiable guitarists on the '80s new wave front. Though his restrained funk rhythms, shimmering harmonics, palm-muted syncopations, and echo-drenched chordal washes marked him as mainly a texturalist, West-Oram also peppered his work with quirky whammy warbles, feedback-soaked squeals, and brief-but-cathartic solos. His unique sound earned him sideman gigs with many notable artists, including Tina Turner, Depeche Mode, Stevie Nicks and Brian Eno.

KEY TRACKS "One Thing Leads to Another," "Red Skies," "Saved by Zero," "Stand or Fall"

1980s GEAR Charvel Strat-style guitar (with Schecter neck, EMG single-coils, and a Floyd Rose tremolo), Marshall 50-watt heads with JBL-loaded 2x12s, Korg digital delay, Yamaha SPX-90, MXR stereo chorus, Pro Co Rat — SH

Japanese luthier Fernandes Guitars, whose instruments have been played by Kirk Hammet, The Edge, and Green Day’s Billie Joe Armstrong, has filed for bankruptcy, Guitar World reports. 

A statement posted to its website on July 13 [translated from Japanese], reads: 

“Fernandes Co., Ltd. (hereinafter referred to as ‘Fernandes’) is currently owed a considerable amount of debt to multiple creditors, and unfortunately, it has become impossible to continue business.

“We apologize for the inconvenience caused to creditors and related parties, but in light of the total amount of debt, Fernandes plans to file for bankruptcy proceedings as soon as possible.

“Creditors and business partners who have claims or debts against Fernandes will be contacted in writing by the attorney representing them in the bankruptcy proceedings… We apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your patronage over the years.”

The website Tokyo Shoko Research states that, as of January 2024, the company’s debts amounted to 433.89 million yen, which is approximately $2.75m. 

The firm, which was founded in 1969, and operated as Saito Musical Instruments before its name change three years later, blamed its worsening performance on the second-hand market and intensifying competition.

Its early success came from producing copies of popular US-made guitars, with two main lines produced. Its Fernandes lines specialized in Fender-style instruments, and Burny in Gibson replicas. 

The guitars were originally produced in Japan, with some models transported to the US, where they were sold as budget alternatives to known American brands. 

Fernandes slowly built a reputation for producing quality beginner guitars that players would continue to grow with as their skills developed. 

Pressure from Fender and Gibson in the '80s, however, forced the company to change up its logos to better differentiate from the luthiers it was copying. 

Metallica’s Kirk Hammet, who acquired ‘Edna,’ a Fernandes FST-13, in the early ‘80s, was one of the biggest name players to represent the firm. The guitar featured on the cover of The $5.98 E.P.: Garage Days Re-Revisited.  

As revealed during an interview with Music Radar, The Edge's guitar tech confirmed that two Fernandes guitars, a 2009 Retro Rocket Sustain and a 2003 Native Sustain, featured as part of his touring rig at the time.  

Green Day’s Billie Joe Armstrong was Fernandes’ most vocal advocate. He’s owned his ‘Blue’ Fernandes Revival RST-50 Strat copy since he was 10 years old. It’s been used during almost every Green Day show. 

Fernandes has also produced signature guitars for some big names, including Brad Gillis, Dave Kushner, and another Metallic alumnus, Robert Trujillo. 

Over the last decade, Fernandes has ceased building guitars for the USA market, perhaps reacting to the aforementioned increase in competition. But despite that, its Sustainer pickup has remained a popular product outside of Japan. 

Operating similarly to an eBow by using electromagnetism to vibrate strings for increased sustain, it has the extra benefit of letting players use a pick with the system. 

That's a quirk that won over key players in the prog rock elite. King Crimson’s Robert Fripp and Steve Hackett have both played Les Paul-style Fernandes copies fitted with Sustainer pickups. 

Radiohead’s Ed O’Brien also fitted his signature Fender EOB Sustainer Strat with the pickup system.   

With the news so fresh, the future of the firm is currently unclear. For a business with a history as rich as the Japanese company's, there is always the possibility of a bailout from another, similarly-minded brand. 

U2’s third album, War, is generally regarded as the band’s first truly great record. Although not officially a concept album per se – it doesn’t follow a dedicated storyline – the record has a prevailing theme centered around worldwide strife and the ravages of armed conflict, whether it was close to the band’s home base of Dublin or halfway across the globe. An impassioned and confrontational work, War was a critical and commercial triumph, and its rapid succession of smash singles – “New Year’s Day,” Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “Two Hearts Beat as One” – pushed it to Gold and Platinum status on both side of the Atlantic.

But in the months before U2 – singer-guitarist Bono, guitarist The Edge, bassist Adam Clayton and drummer Larry Mullen Jr. – began recording the album, there was little to indicate that they were on the verge of a breakthrough. There was doubt among them that they would make the record at all. “Going into the album, we’d gone through a bit of a crisis as a band because of our uncertainty about whether this was right for us,” The Edge says. “I mean, fundamentally, was it right for us to be in a band?”

Those concerns faded once the new songs took shape and demonstrated to them that their music could be a platform to address larger and weightier matters. “We came out of that after we’d written some songs that were really reassuring and confirmed that we could be involved in music and make some sort of positive difference,” The Edge says. “It was on War where we cut our teeth on activism and social justice issues.”

The band had worked with producer Steve Lillywhite on their 1980 debut album, Boy. At the time, Lillywhite was a rising star thanks to his collaborations with XTC, Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Peter Gabriel. He had established something of a golden rule of not working with the same band twice, but he came back a year later to produce U2’s follow-up, October.

Afterward, he figured the group would move on to work with somebody else. “Boy was seen as a big, successful first album, but October didn’t do as well as everybody hoped,” Lillywhite says. “I thought, Of course they’re going to want somebody else to produce the next record. Why wouldn’t they? And even though the second album underperformed, U2 were seen as a very hot band. Who wouldn’t want to produce them?”

In fact, the band had entertained a few other options. For a time, they considered working with multiple producers – possibly one per song – but that idea was soon discarded. Next, they recorded tracks with Sandy Pearlman (famous for his work with the Clash and Blue Öyster Cult) and Blondie keyboardist Jimmy Destri, after which the band decided to continue their search. A few other names were tossed around – Rhett Davies, Roy Thomas Baker and even Brian Eno, who would ultimately begin a long relationship with U2 starting with 1984’s The Unforgettable Fire – but nothing took.

Lillywhite was more than a little surprised when he got a call from Bono in early summer 1982, asking if he’d be interested in producing U2’s next album that fall. “At first, I thought, God, I’ve never done an album number three with anybody,” he says. “But then I thought, Sure, let’s do it. They always seemed to keep convincing me to come back. My sort of communistic morals changed slightly when I realized that it could be such a wonderful story if we could get it right with U2.”

Getting that story right wouldn’t be easy. Following their initial attempts at recording, the band had sketched out only a few new song ideas, which The Edge remembers as being “interesting, but nothing we were really excited about.” Lillywhite says this was par for the course. “They’ve had writer’s block their whole lives. It’s never come easily to them,” he says. “The first album was the result of three or four years of writing. They played those songs in clubs before they got signed. Even when we were recording, Bono hadn’t finished all the lyrics. I would have to tell him, ‘You’re repeating verses. You need to finish the song.’”

For much of the summer, the band was scattered. Bono and his longtime girlfriend, Ali, got married in late August and took off for a honeymoon in Jamaica. Says Lillywhite, “I’m not sure where Larry was – he was off doing his thing. And I went with Adam and U2’s manager, Paul McGuinness, to Italy, where we tried to cause as much mayhem as we could.” He laughs. “Some people spend their time in Italy going to art galleries. Adam and I spent our time getting fucked up. It was pretty crazy.”

With recording time already booked for early September at Dublin’s Windmill Lane Studios, the brunt of the first real phase of songwriting – and taking control of what, if anything, the new album would become – fell on The Edge’s shoulders. “I had a conversation with Bono before he left, and I said, ‘I’ll see what I can come up with,’” he says. The guitarist sequestered himself in the band’s rehearsal space with “keyboards, drum machines and guitars of all shapes and sizes,” but little in the way of new material. “I had about two weeks to get some ideas going. We were kind of up against it. Luckily, ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday’ came about.”

The song’s rugged chord pattern appeared first, and it sounded promising. Once The Edge came up with the striking descending intro riff, he knew he was onto something. “It was instant,” he says. “As much as you would imagine there’s a limit to the permutations and combinations, since there’s only so many notes in the scale, when you hit on something that is essential, it’s kind of obvious. You can have differences of opinion about sound and lots of stuff, but songs are sort of empirical. Some songs are just better than others, and it’s not really a matter of opinion. The same is true of riffs. ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday’ was an absolutely pivotal song for us.”

At the same time, Edge had become intrigued by a bassline that Adam had written. “It wasn’t really a song yet, but you could tell it was a great verse part,” The Edge says. “I took it and developed it into what eventually became ‘New Year’s Day.’” Other ideas took shape, notably the haunting anti-nuclear proliferation track “Seconds,” on which the guitarist would take his first turn singing lead. “To be fair, none of these were finished songs yet,” he stresses. “But it’s a funny thing: Sometimes it’s the essence of something to give you the clues. When the others came back, it was like, ‘I think we’ve got some new ideas. Check this out.’”

The guitarist played a cassette of his demos for the band and Lillywhite, and, all at once, spirits lifted. “Edge had been so stoic and diligent working on his own,” Lillywhite says. “Even then, he was like a scientist in terms of home recording, and the results spoke for themselves. ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday’ was definitely the catalyst. Musically and melodically, it was 90 percent finished, and it was fantastic. Suddenly, everybody was like, ‘Wow, we’ve got a great song here.’ Edge’s demo gave us a great template to work from. It sounded like the single right away, and my way of thinking is, if you’ve got the single, your work becomes so much easier. You pretty much have to fill in the rest of the album around it.”

The Edge was elated at the reaction. “It was a big relief,” he says. “Going into the sessions with Steve, we were like, Okay, now where can we take this?” Starting with The Unforgettable Fire, the bulk of which U2 recorded with Eno and Daniel Lanois at Ireland’s Slane Castle, the band would embark on projects at various remote studio locations. For War, however, they insisted on returning to Windmill Lane, where they had recorded Boy and October. “I think they prided themselves with making their records in Dublin at the time,” says Lillywhite, who remembers Windmill Lane as “a normal, go-to-work kind of studio. It had its limitations, because it was designed to record very quiet folk music.

“For my sonic palette, I needed big, loud, echoey atmospheres. The recording room never helped the sound. In fact, for Boy, I recorded the drums out in the hallway. I was always changing certain things about the studio to suit my sonic needs.” He laughs. “That said, I’m very proud that I was the first person to make a successful rock record in Ireland with an Irish band.”

Dispensing with pre-production, U2 and Lillywhite began the recording sessions with “Sunday Bloody Sunday.” The Edge’s demo provided a brilliant roadmap to work from. But from the start, it became clear to both band and producer that a musical reboot was in order. The new songs demanded it.

“The first album did well, but October was a little less focused,” Lillywhite says. “It seemed as if America had fallen in love with U2 the rock band, but they hadn’t fallen in love with U2 the ‘let’s sing songs about the Bible’ band.’ On October, Bono dug into his spiritual side. It wasn’t just the lyrics, though. The sound on October was slightly sleepy and confusing. It was soft-focus Doris Day. It’s a great album if you want to curl up and listen to music on a cold night.

“With War,” he continues, “the band definitely wanted to take things somewhere else, and that meant the sound had to reflect that. It had to be tougher and more in your face. It had to be hard-focus black and white.”

U2’s studio sound would also be a more accurate representation of their powerful, take-no-prisoners stage show, but there, too, Lillywhite says some recalibration was in order. “I had seen them on the October tour, and to my ears it seemed as if the songs live were getting very brash and almost hard rock – not quite heavy metal, but definitely harsh,” he says. “I wasn’t sure that was the band’s strength. It had to harken back to the band’s roots, which were in punk rock. It had to be more Clash-like.”

Lillywhite recalls Bono encouraging the Edge to “stop sounding like The Edge. Sound like Mick Jones!” He laughs. “Now, Edge was always going to sound like Edge, but without Bono pushing him, he might have been ‘dreamy Edge,’ not ‘rocky Edge.’”

The guitarist was onboard with the notion of channeling the spirits of the band’s heroes, most certainly the Clash, but also the Patti Smith Group. But there was another band that loomed large in his mind: Television. “They were an immensely important band to us, particularly on the first album, Marquee Moon, because of its uniqueness and creativity,” he says. “We’d never heard the guitar played in that way before. They were making instruments that, to our ears, had such a clear identity and sounded completely new. That was a big throwdown for us.”

For The Edge, whose creative use of delay and echo effects had already made him one of the most distinctive young guitarists around, responding to that challenge meant “de-Edging” himself to some degree, rolling back the settings on his stomp boxes – or, in some cases, turning them off entirely. “On ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday’ and ‘New Year’s Day,’ I think we felt like it needed to be more direct and hard hitting,” he says. “We were consciously drying things up and making them more impactful and punchy.”

Lillywhite responded to the guitarist’s more naturalistic sound by leaving well enough alone. “That’s what a good producer does – you stay out of the way when something’s working,” he says. “If Edge got a certain sound from his amp, I had to trust his ears. I didn’t want him coming into the control room and hearing something totally different. Whenever he rolled the delay and echo off his sound, I kept it that way. I never added those effects back.”

At the time, The Edge’s guitar collection was still limited to a few models. There was his ever-present 1976 Gibson Explorer (which he bought for $248.40 in 1978 in New York City while vacationing with his family), along with a ‘70s Fender Stratocaster and a 1975 Gibson Les Paul Custom. During a tour stop in New Orleans, he’d purchased a lap steel that he employed on the song “Surrender.” Says Lillywhite, “We spent days trying to get it right. It sounded great, but I think Edge could have done it on a bottleneck and it would have sounded just as good.”

On certain cuts, he occasionally played through a Fender Twin, but his go-to amp was the same 1964 Vox AC30TB that he’d used since the beginning days of the band. “Edge and that Vox amp were connected,” Lillywhite says. “You could never separate the two of them, and why would you even try?”

As recording continued, riffs and chord patterns grew into complete song structures. The band had already worked in this manner on October, and on War they refined their ability to write on the spot. “It wasn’t so much about jamming – they weren’t really a jamming band,” Lillywhite says. “It was more about them playing parts until we had something.”

New to the studio process was the use of a click track, which benefitted the band’s cut-and-paste method of recording. “Up to this point, their recordings were like surfing – you go up [in tempo] and you go down,” Lillywhite says. “Because a lot of the songs on War were patchwork quilts, it was important for us to have a solid foundation of timekeeping. Suddenly the bass could [get recorded] very easily because all Adam had to do was lock into it. Edge took to the click quickly. I remember spending a day with Larry to get him used to it. I told him, ‘If you hear the click while you’re playing, it means you’re out of time. He got the hang of it, and before long he loved playing to the click.”

One area in which Lillywhite didn’t involve himself was Bono’s lyrics. “I know there are producers who like to pore over every word, but that was never my thing, really,” he says. “There were band discussions during which they’d talk about their ideas and issues, but they didn’t lay out any kind of political or thematic agenda for me, nor did I think to offer an opinion. I knew what they put themselves through, and I knew Bono would have to live with his lyrics for the rest of his life, whereas my connection to the record wasn’t so personal. My main focus was on making sure the lyrics were done so we could record. My attitude was, Let’s just do this!”

Not all of the songs on War carried political themes: The crashing rocker “Red Light,” highlighted by The Edge’s slashing chords and thorny riffing, concerned prostitution. On “Two Hearts Beat as One,” the band’s first foray into dance music (a genre they would explore in myriad ways in the ’90s), they focused on desperate romantic yearning and hit an emotional bull’s-eye.

Sonically, “Two Hearts Beat as One” deviated from the limited guitar effects rule, as it saw The Edge utilizing a flanger to color the sound of his stinging rhythm playing. In stark contrast to his usual method of sonic architecture – working assiduously with amps and effects to arrive at a dedicated combination – the guitarist remembers his approach to the song as one of divine inspiration and spontaneity.

“Bono and myself and Dunx [engineer Duncan Stewart] were in this little room in my house, just trying different ideas out,” he says. “I’m quite happy to spend time experimenting, but Bono likes momentum. That’s what he feeds off. If you get a lot of momentum going, that’s where he really shines creatively. Oftentimes, when we’re working together, we’ll be moving at lightning speed to get something happening. In that case, we were really quick. And then this sound arrived. It was like, ‘Okay – let’s go!’ I appreciate that. Sometimes I find that draws things out of me I wouldn’t have thought of otherwise. Being put on the spot can be a really good thing.”

The band brought in a smattering of guests – American trumpeter Kenny Fradley duked it out with The Edge in the solo section of “Red Light,” while Irish violinist Steve Wickham contributed memorably to “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and the atmospheric ballad “Drowning Man.” Three cuts – “Surrender,” “Red Light” and “Like a Song… ” – feature backing vocals by Kid Creole’s Coconuts. “The guys were getting into a lot of music from New York, and at the time Kid Creole was very big in the U.K.,” Lillywhite says. “When the Coconuts came to Dublin, it was like, ‘Come down and hang out. We’ve got a couple of songs that could use that New York club feel.’”

In order to meet the deadline for record manufacturing plants (which took between two to three months to turn product around), the band squeezed the last minute out of their studio time. “We didn’t even have the opportunity to sit back and listen to the finished album,” Lillywhite says. “Right up to the end, Bono was doing the final vocal, and Edge was doing the last guitar overdub. They finished and the record went to production. Nobody could sit back and say, ‘Aren’t we fucking great?’”

That assessment came from critics and fans upon War’s release in February 1983. In a lengthy rave review, Rolling Stone’s J.D. Considine wrote “the songs here stand up against anything on the Clash’s London Calling in terms of sheer impact.” And in Dublin’s own Hot Press, writer Liam Mackey hailed the album as offering “watertight evidence of the band’s standing as a genuinely original force in contemporary music.” 

Thanks to heavy play on MTV for “New Year’s Day” and “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” War hit number 12 on the Billboard Hot 200, giving U2 their first Gold record in the U.S. In the U.K. it went to number one, knocking Michael Jackson’s Thriller – the best-selling album ever – from the top spot.

Forty years after rushing the production master off for pressing, Lillywhite sat down recently and gave the album a dedicated listen. “It’s rare that I do that kind of thing,” he says, “but I can tell you I was very pleased by what I heard. It’s really something special. ‘New Year’s Day’ is absolute perfection. I’m so honored to have been involved with the album.”

The Edge returns the compliment. “It was such an important album for us,” he says. “And Steve Lillywhite was a great ally and a great additional member of the creative team for the recordings. He really brought a lot to the project.”

Order U2's War here.

During the course of their four-decade-plus career, U2 have been a daringly stubborn, forward-thinking lot, rarely repeating a proven formula, and constantly searching for the next big idea. Indeed, their momentum seems to have always been fueled by an almost Bowie-esque need for experimentation. Sometimes the gambits paid off spectacularly (the rich Americana textures of The Joshua Tree were traded for Achtung Baby’s postmodern European art-rock); other times, not so much (the techno dance-heavy Pop ranks as their most underappreciated effort).

But in each case, the band made it clear they weren’t running to stand still, and whether they delighted their fans or occasionally mystified them, their true measure of success was guided by their indefatigable quest for change.

And now they’ve really gone and done it. U2’s latest project – Songs of Surrender, a whopping collection of 40 “reimagined” songs from their back catalog – is one that will invariably provoke intense reactions, both good and bad, from their fans, many of whom regard the band’s original recordings as sacrosanct.

For The Edge, the driving force behind the four-disc set (he’s credited as producer, and he created much of the instrumentation), the notion of merely tweaking musical themes was one he rejected out of hand. Simply put, revisiting the past meant throwing a whole lot of it out the window.

“We’re not just treading lightly on hallowed ground. We’re going in with jack boots,” he says with a laugh. “That was our early decision: ‘Are we going to going to suspend reverence here and just go for it?’ And we decided to go for it, because we thought we’d get into more interesting territory if we gave ourselves that freedom.” He pauses, then smiles mischievously. “But we also had an overriding idea, which was to make intimacy the new version of punk rock for us.”

Punk rock in 2023, at least in The Edge’s world, is bathed in the lush sound of acoustics (for those thirsting for the guitarist’s ringing, soaring, effects-treated electric six-strings, adjust your expectations immediately). This is a softer, quieter, laid-back version of punk rock (and U2), and admittedly, it takes the ears a while to adjust.

The once anthemic “Pride (In the Name of Love)” is now stripped down, slowed down and sung by Bono in a lower register. It doesn’t so much confront you as it gradually seeps into your senses. Likewise, the youthful hormonic urgency of “11 O’Clock Tick Tock” now moves at a more mature pace, with The Edge performing a delicately plucked nylon-string solo in place of the original’s jarring electric lead.

On some tracks, he dispenses with guitars altogether. The chiming electric rhythm of “Where the Streets Have No Name” is nowhere to be found on what is now a haunting hymn framed by synths and strings. Similarly, “Stories for Boys,” sung by The Edge and devoid of the guitarist’s cavernous leads, has been transformed from a surging rocker into an absorbing piano elegy.

Throughout most of the album, however, over minimal and sometimes no percussion at all, he’s briskly strumming and chugging away (and on a few songs, notably “Ordinary Love,” he demonstrates he’s an artful and creative fingerpicker), breaking down chordal and lead arrangements to their bare essentials. On cuts like “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “Until the End of the World,” he performs virtual note-for-note versions of his famous solos, while on “The Fly,” now a slinky and sultry mood piece, he splashes twangy licks over a booming bed of bass guitars.

Not everything gets a drastic makeover. “Vertigo” and “Desire” (here with heavily treated acoustics) still rock and swing as hard as ever, and in their new spare forms, they’re the best damn campfire songs around. For the most part, though, the emphasis is on reinvention, and each track brings with it a new surprise. The biggest revelation perhaps comes in the form of a question: Just why would a band so revered for its sense of grandeur want to reel it all in?

The Edge takes it on directly and thoughtfully. “It’s not something we’re famous for, because we grew up onstage in little sweaty clubs in America and Europe,” he says. “Our challenge was always to get to that guy at the back of the room, somebody who isn’t really a fan or isn’t paying attention. There was always an intense pitch to our music early on. So my thought here was, Let’s take minimalism to the nth degree, if it’s appropriate.’ And on a lot of these songs, it worked. We left just the bare skeletons of the original arrangements in terms of themes and hooks, taking things down to a really light touch.”

He’s keenly aware that “going in with jack boots” was going to be met with varying responses – and if anything, that appears to be the overarching point. “For this to be meaningful, we didn’t want to re-create something that was already out there and was well-recognized,” he says. “It was, ‘What happens when you take the band away and you remove from the mix everything we’re famous for?’ You allow the songs to stand on their own.”

You’re one of the most distinctive and copied players of the past 40 years. Usually we talk about some new wild sound you’ve come up with or a new pedal you’ve discovered. You’re not doing that here. [Edge laughs] Was that scary? Exciting? Both?

It was both. I mean, not scary, really. When we started this project, there was no expectation. We could have done a couple of weeks on it, and if we weren’t excited by the results, it never would have seen the light of day. As it happened, the more I got into it, the more excited I got. I thought, There really is something to this.

For me, the pivot was “Stories for Boys,” from the first album [1980’s Boy]. I hit on this piano approach that’s so different from the original. I sang a demo vocal of it and presented it to Bono, assuming he would do his own lead vocal. He said, “Edge, I love this! You should sing it, and let’s work on the lyrics to update it and give it a different twist.”

Because there was no pressure or expectation, and just through the sheer thrill of doing this, I think the whole collection has a kind of freedom to it, a lightness. I don’t think U2 fans have ever heard the band like this.

There is that old saying: “A good song is one you can play on an acoustic guitar.”

Yeah. Some of our producers have stressed that to us over the years, almost as an appeal. Steve Lillywhite would say, “Would you just play the song on an acoustic guitar? That’s how we’ll see what we really have.”

Of course, that’s something we rarely did, but when we did it was useful. This collection sort of proves that if songs hold together, they really are indestructible. You can take huge liberties with that, and they’ll hold up.

There is some precedent for this with you guys. You and Bono played “Ordinary Love” and “Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of” acoustically on TV shows.

We have. It’s interesting that some of those arrangements became the more iconic versions. “Ordinary Love” is a good example. “Every Breaking Wave” became a very big live song, and it was stripped right down to just piano and voice. That was really encouraging, learning that paring it back can be good for the song.

For this collection, can you pinpoint the moment when you said, “Let’s try this”? Was it literally you sitting at home playing a song on an acoustic that you had only played on an electric guitar?

There were a couple of moments. The great fun of this project was also trying to take some of the deep catalog songs that never became particularly well known and giving them a chance to shine. One of the moments of realization was “If God Will Send His Angels,” from the Pop album. It was a single, but we always felt as if we’d missed it. The problem wasn’t the lyric or melody; the flow of chords didn’t do justice to what Bono had done. So I completely re-arranged the chordal progressions, and now I feel like it’s a new song. It’s a better song. That was greatly encouraging.

With some other more obscure songs, I tested that idea. “Dirty Day” was one of the first songs I played on acoustic, and that’s a pretty nasty guitar-based tune on Europa – not a well-known song. I always liked its essence, and then playing it very simply on acoustic guitar, it really held up.

Some of the last things we did were the big classic songs. But even in that process, say, with “Pride (In the Name of Love),” I realized that the solo didn’t really make sense by stripping it back, so I kind of wrote an orchestral middle section to add some light and shade to the arrangement. There was a lot of fun there.

Was there a particular acoustic guitar that really guided your approach throughout the project?

I’ve been buying some vintage guitars, and some of them are absolutely amazing. Like these guitars from the ’40s are so pure and small sounding, but they’re so musical. That was a big revelation. Being so used to these big dreadnought guitars, I thought these smaller guitars had so much personality.

There was a particular guitar that was my go-to, a 1947 Martin 0-18, and it’s a beauty. I was with my son, Levi, in McCabe’s in Santa Monica. He was buying a pedal, and I was staring at this guitar in a case. I was like, “Mmm, do you mind if I try this guitar?” I instantly fell in love with it.

Also, I was trying to find ways to add other slightly more percussive sounds, so I dug an old hammered dulcimer out of the back of a closet. I’d never played it, so I was learning how to play this thing. That was a lot of fun.

I was talking with Melissa Manchester, who also re-recorded some songs from her catalog. She told me that one of her reasons for doing so was, after singing these songs for almost 50 years, she felt like she had grown into them. Did you have a similar feeling about your own songs?

Yes, I think that did happen. I also think that gave us the inspiration, in some cases, for new lyrics. The essence of the song felt more relevant from this perspective. Like with “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” when we got to the last verse, Bono said, “I think there’s a better verse here.” So now that song has a new final verse.

With the benefit of a bit of time from when that song was first inspired, from the safety of the peace that we now enjoy in Ireland, we could afford to be a little more direct. Without being overt, that lyric now addresses some of the history and incidents that inspired that song that we probably wouldn’t have felt comfortable addressing at the time.

You once told me that if you were having a problem writing a song, you’d crank up the effects and see where they might take you. Was it a challenge re-approaching the songs without those effects?

In most cases, I think I was able to use the musical themes from the original recordings, but I would abstract them. In the initial instance, we were probably struggling to find something with thematic power that would drive the song and support the vocals. Here it’s the opposite. It’s like, “How much can we take away?” It was less pressure, in a way. We were still being creative, but there was no sense that we hadn’t arrived with a song that couldn’t stand on its own.

I think we were maybe inspired by what we were all going through with the lockdown, where your entire life was reduced to the bare minimum. [laughs] It’s what we were doing with our song arrangements.

Obviously, you’ve played acoustic in the past, but here you’re laser-focused on it. As a player, did that present some new challenges from a technique standpoint?

Definitely. I was playing six-string, and I did some 12-string and some Spanish guitar. I played a beautiful old flamenco guitar that was made for me by Lowden. Yeah, I really had to stretch. But what it also did for me was, it gave me a real appreciation for the great acoustic guitar players, along with some of the techniques that I haven’t mastered. Certain picking techniques – I’m going to relish being a student again and becoming better versed in that. It’s a fascinating world. I don’t profess to be a master in these areas, but I’m such a fan.

I was struck by the songs you covered, but also some that you didn’t, like “Bullet the Blue Sky” and “The Electric Co.” Did you try them but you weren’t happy with where they went?

We didn’t do “Bullet the Blue Sky,” no. There were a few that, for one reason or another, we weren’t sure we found a new place. “Running to Stand Still” – I thought that it was already in a minimal form, so I didn’t know if we would find a new angle there. With “Bullet,” I don’t think we got around to it. I think maybe we felt that we’d already done so much from that album. We’d already gotten a few from The Joshua Tree. That was a dilemma, as well, not to overly concentrate on one or two albums.

Some were a challenge in a good way. “Beautiful Day” and “With or Without You,” we tried them multiple ways; we tried them very organic, and then, particularly “With or Without You,” we thought that we should go very abstract. That was a fun process.

When I heard about the project but hadn’t seen the track list, I thought, “No way will they do ‘The Fly.’ The original is such a gonzo, psychedelic electric guitar song.

[laughs] It is.

But you ended up doing it, and you turned it into a much darker piece.

The breakthrough with that song was, we decided that we wouldn’t have a lead guitar; we’d just have two basses, so Adam and I both played. The two bass performances come together to make this a very different version of “The Fly.” As you say, it’s kind of psychedelic, but it’s got a dark quality. I love it. Again, with the solos, it’s like, “What do you do with that?” The dulcimer came in very handy.

On some other solos, however, like on “Till the End of the World” and “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” you do stick pretty close to how you originally played them.

Yep.

Did you try them another way first?

I don’t know. In those cases, I just felt that they were some of the key thematic ideas. Take “City of Blinding Lights”: We kept some of those big guitar hooks, but they’re now played in a different form. With some, I was happy to maintain the original ideas, but with others, it was obvious that something new had to happen. On “Out of Control,” a whole new solo idea spontaneously happened.

There were no rules with this project – that was the great thing. Bono kicked up a pretty serious media furor recently when he admitted that some of his early vocal recordings were a source of a certain amount of embarrassment for him. You can hear the strain in his voice. Mind you, it never even occurred to us in those days to lower the key to better fit his range.

Today, with each arrangement, we were able to go, “Where do you want to pitch this one?” I’ve got a similar vocal range to Bono, so I was able to take some good guesses for what would work for him. It was like tailoring the songs to suit him as a singer. At this point in his life, I think he’s a better interpreter of songs than he’s ever been. That was the ultimate goal: to serve the song by serving the singer.

You’re something of the ultimate gear guy. On this project, did you learn anything new about miking acoustic guitars?

Very often, I would do a quick initial acoustic demo at home. If I was in Dublin, I would be by the piano. And to my surprise, the engineers on occasion would go, “Whoa, that’s amazing. How did you get that sound?” I think it was because I had some really nice microphones. I found this one by Aston, an English mic that’s currently in production. It’s a very warm-sounding mic for acoustic guitars. Some of those recordings I made ended up on the album. It was that kind of project. Some of it was done in a proper recording studio in London, but a few were literally recorded in my bedroom.

Now that you’ve spent a considerable amount of time focused on the acoustic guitar, do you think you might go back to exploring new sounds on the electric with a fresh attitude?

I know the answer to that. [laughs] I’ve been working a lot on new guitar music, and I’m very excited about it. It’s at that prototype stage where… who knows? But the answer to the question is “yes.” I’m finding myself for the first time in a little while getting very excited about the electric guitar again. Maybe it’s something to do with the lockdown, having the time to not do very much. For me, that was such a creative opportunity.

Were it not for the lockdown, would you have done this massive acoustic project?

We’ll never know, will we? [laughs] We were due for some time off. We finished our last show in India in December of 2019. We came home, and almost immediately the world was turned upside down. That time would have been spent working on ideas and early-stage new songs. And we are. We have a lot of great material in the pipeline.

Order Songs of Surrender here.

It’s May 30th, 1983 and U2 lead singer Bono is addressing a crowd of several hundred thousand at the US Festival in San Bernardino, California. “When we first arrived in your country, I tried to explain that we’re not just another English fashion band passing through. We’re an Irish band and we plan on being here for a long time.”

U2 are not the headliners that day, but their electrifying set, which concludes with Bono’s perilous climb up the scaffolding while waving a white flag in a symbolic attempt to embrace the massive audience, proves his words are not a hollow boast.

The quartet, which also includes drummer Larry Mullen Jr., bassist Adam Clayton and guitarist Dave Evans (known professionally as The Edge), are touring in support of their third album, War, and while radio is starting to embrace their earnest melodic rock anthems, it’s their passionate live shows that’s making a deep connection with fans.

Just days after their US Festival triumph, the band take a risk deciding to proceed with the filming of their concert at the picturesque Red Rocks amphitheater during a driving rainstorm. The resulting footage is nothing short of magic, with the band and the crowd reaching an almost otherworldly level of intensity.

When impassioned live clips of “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and “New Year’s Day” go into heavy rotation on MTV, U2 quickly become one of the biggest, most recognizable bands on the planet. And while Bono’s soaring tenor voice and evangelical stage manner are the face of U2, it’s the unassuming stoic-faced guitarist to his right that’s the band’s secret weapon. 

Eschewing traditional blues-based rock, metal pyrotechnics and folky strumming, The Edge created a detailed yet minimalist guitar approach using open-string drones, harmonically ambiguous high-string voicings, natural harmonics, delay-generated atmospherics and single-note echo repeats.

Coupled with Mullen’s muscular pattern-based drumming and Clayton’s funky, harmonically-centered bass lines, The Edge’s guitar work gave the band a unique, spacious sound that was greater than the sum of its parts.

To celebrate the 40th Anniversary of U2’s breakthrough album and tour, let’s take a dive into some of the game-changing licks that made them a household name and distinguished The Edge as a key player in the guitar landscape of the ’80s and beyond.

Before we begin, we’ll go over a few performance notes. The Edge makes effective use of a German-made pick called a Herdim by flipping it around and striking the strings with the bumpy grip end. This provides a raspy percussive attack and is a key factor in his sound. Although not necessary, if you want to experiment with the Herdim pick, they are available online. Also, for our recorded examples I’ve put a bar of drums up front to help establish the groove.

Around the time U2 recorded War, The Edge relied heavily on his 1976 Gibson Explorer, a '70s Stratocaster and a 1964 Vox AC30 Top Boost amp. An Electro-Harmonix Memory Man analog delay was a major part of his sound on the band’s first two albums, although on War he made a conscious effort to rely less on it.

At the beginning of the tour however, he added a rack-mounted Korg SDD-3000 digital delay (skewing the input and output attenuators for additional drive), and its pristine clarity, atmospheric modulation, and rhythmic repeats would feature prominently on live recordings and future albums.

The first four bars of Ex. 1 are based on the austere top-string arpeggio riff of U2’s breakthrough hit, “Sunday Bloody Sunday.”

Anchor your middle finger on the B string’s 3rd fret; this will allow you to play the D chord by barring your index finger across the top three strings. Notice how the bass notes provide the foundation of the overall implied harmonic structure and chord movement (indicated in parentheses).

The Edge would use a variation of this riff (without the top-string F#) on the 1984 live arrangement of the song “A Sort of Homecoming,” and the rhythm transcribed here is closer to that pattern.

The example’s second half highlights another feature of The Edge’s early ’80s playing – the use of natural harmonics (N.H.) as melodic and harmonic devices.

Notice that their high-register chime over the bass notes creates an open airiness in the music, ensuring that the F# harmonic doesn’t sound dissonant when pitted against Clayton’s F bass note.

Ex. 2 is based on the truculent solo break in “Sunday Bloody Sunday.” Like the original, it conjures bagpipes with linear movement up and down the top two strings against open-string drones before segueing into militant, muted-string march rhythms in the final two bars.

According to his autobiography, Surrender, the first thing Bono ever heard a teenage Edge play on guitar was a Yes song with harmonics and fancy finger-picking.

The Edge most likely had his ear open to the playing of Yes guitarist Steve Howe because, like Howe, he sometimes used an overdriven echo-drenched lap steel (a 1945 Epiphone) to color certain sections of songs.

At other times, The Edge would use slide in an emotive, textural way that was more about orchestration than parroting all-too-familiar blues licks.

Ex. 3 is a slide riff similar to the guitar line between the verses in “The Refugee.” Play it with some added fuzz and a tremolo effect to cop the vibe.

Toward the end of 1983, U2 released the eight-song live EP Under a Blood Red Sky, cementing their reputation as a must-see live band. Ex. 4 is based on that album’s version of “New Year’s Day.”

In concert, The Edge would switch between a melodic piano figure and textural guitar sound washes like the harmonic stabs in the first four bars of our example.

In bar 4, start with a 12th-fret harmonic on the G string, then gradually but evenly slide the fret-hand finger down to the harmonic at the 5th fret while picking continuous 16th notes and keeping the same light touch throughout, surveying other harmonics along the way.

The last few bars of the example mirror the song’s dramatic guitar break, by making effective use of open strings and linear slides. Like The Edge’s live performances of the song, I’ve added a quarter-note rhythmic delay at 460ms and a wet/dry mix of 40/60 here.

Despite U2’s penchant for ethereal soundscapes and emotionally-charged anthems, the band could also deliver funky dance-floor inspired grooves. Ex. 5 is based on an example of this, from the song “Two Hearts Beat as One.”

In the first four bars of that song, The Edge plays a driving single-note figure on the G string, making it pop rhythmically by using idle fret-hand fingers to mute the strings next to the fretted note and incorporating the dampened “scratch” sound into his picking, which is actually strumming.

You can accomplish this tricky fretboard move by grabbing the fretted note on the G string with your 2nd finger and dampening the adjacent D and B strings behind it with your 1st finger. Or you can simply fret the note with your 1st finger and angle it in a way that it makes enough contact with the neighboring strings to deaden them.

The second half of the exercise utilizes another Edge go-to grip – the root-5th-octave power chord starting from a D-string root. These high-voiced chords sound chime-y and open compared to the dark heaviness of lower-string voicings.

Our final tribute, Ex. 6 is inspired by the riffs and general harmonic approach of the songs “Surrender” and “Red Light” and shows how The Edge could enliven a simple two-chord groove through the use of judicious chord shapes and harmonic choices.

Notice how open low E notes here alternate with a root-3rd dyad (E-G#), followed by A, D, and F# natural harmonics, which more intricately flesh out an implied E-to-D progression in the first two bars.

The same two chords seem to have much more harmonic movement when spelled out as ascending two-note voicings in bars 3-10. To give the example a little more bounce, I’ve added a dotted-eighth-note delay, at 390ms and a wet/ dry mix of 40/60.

1983 was certainly a breakthrough year for U2, but it was hardly their pinnacle. The following decades would bring multiple number one albums, sold-out stadium tours, constant artistic reinvention and eventual induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

At the heart of this storied musical odyssey, there’s always been the inspired guitar wizardry of The Edge.

Don’t miss our June issue celebrating U2’s new album, Songs of Surrender, on which the group re-interprets 40 of its own classic tracks from their decades-long career.

Speaking of the effort to GP contributing writer Joe Bosso, The Edge says the group gave itself full latitude to re-create the songs. “That was our early decision: ‘Are we going to going to suspend reverence here and just go for it?’ And we decided to go for it, because we thought we’d get into more interesting territory if we gave ourselves that freedom.”

At the very least, we expect U2’s efforts will reveal new layers of depth and subtlety to these familiar tunes.

Throughout the course of their career, U2 have been a daringly stubborn, forward-thinking lot, rarely repeating a proven formula, and constantly searching for the next big idea.

And now they’ve really gone and done it.

Songs of Surrender is a whopping collection of 40 “reimagined” songs that will invariably provoke intense reactions, both good and bad, from their fans, many of whom regard the band’s original recordings as sacrosanct.

“We’re not just treading lightly on hallowed ground. We’re going in with jack boots,” says The Edge with a laugh.“

Punk rock in 2023, at least in The Edge’s world, is bathed in the lush sound of acoustic guitars.

In this interview extract, the legendary guitarist reveals the secret to getting studio-quality acoustic recordings in your bedroom and touches on his rekindled excitement for electric guitar.

You’re something of the ultimate gear guy. On this project, did you learn anything new about miking acoustic guitars?

Very often, I would do a quick initial acoustic demo at home. If I was in Dublin, I would be by the piano. And to my surprise, the engineers on occasion would go, “Whoa, that’s amazing. How did you get that sound?”

I think it was because I had some really nice microphones. I found this one by Aston, an English mic that’s currently in production. It’s a very warm-sounding mic for acoustic guitars.

Some of those recordings I made ended up on the album. It was that kind of project. Some of it was done in a proper recording studio in London, but a few were literally recorded in my bedroom.

Now that you’ve spent a considerable amount of time focused on the acoustic guitar, do you think you might go back to exploring new sounds on the electric with a fresh attitude?

I know the answer to that. [laughs] I’ve been working a lot on new guitar music, and I’m very excited about it. It’s at that prototype stage where… who knows?

But the answer to the question is “yes.” I’m finding myself for the first time in a little while getting very excited about the electric guitar again.

Maybe it’s something to do with the lockdown, having the time to not do very much. For me, that was such a creative opportunity.

Read more in our June 2023 issue, available to order here.

Last month, the guitar world lost one of its true innovators, Television’s Tom Verlaine.

The New York art-rockers’ groundbreaking 1977 debut album, Marquee Moon, is regarded for its guitar interplay between Verlaine and Richard Lloyd.

Lloyd once referred to his musical relationship with Verlaine as “telepathic.”

“We’re like blues from another planet,” said the CBGB veteran, “like rock music for aliens.”

Influential on a global scale, Television were the torchbearers of art-rock. They nurtured the ethos of punk and new wave ahead of the alt-rock movement that followed.

Guitar Player caught up with U2’s the Edge who shared his thoughts with us about Verlaine's recent passing and the enduring legacy of Marquee Moon.

“Tom was such a huge influence on us as a young band,” remembers the guitarist. “We’d never heard the guitar played in that way before. We‘d never heard it sound so unique and different.

“I had no idea why it sounded so different, but I thought, Okay, if Tom Verlaine and Richard Lloyd can do that with the instrument, what can I do? What’s my version of their fresh and different use of the instrument? Because I think they were, as I was, trying to avoid the clichés of rock that were around at that time.”

Inspired, the Edge ventured into new sonic territory with his own band.

“The punk rock philosophy was being played out throughout culture. It was ‘start again, reboot, something new, something fresh, something confrontational.’

“The Marquee Moon album really set me off as a musician. I still love turning guitar players on to it. They all have the same response to it that I did: ‘Wow... These guys are amazing!’

“I don’t want to leave Richard Lloyd out of it. He’s an immensely talented guitar player. The way he and Tom interacted was phenomenal. I don’t know if they studied modal music. I think they were in the Dorian mode most of the time; they weren’t in our conventional major and minor or pentatonic scales.

“One day I was listening to Country Joe and the Fish, and I heard this track they did called ‘Eastern Jam.’ I went, ‘That’s it! [Laughs] That must be the song that got Tom into this other mode.’

“Listen to the song – it’s very Televisionesque.”

Elijah Hewson, the 23-year-old singer and guitarist of the fast-rising Irish alternative band Inhaler, is happy to rattle off the names of his favorite bands and artists – the Stone Roses, Joy Division, Kings of Leon, the Smashing Pumpkins, David Bowie and the Rolling Stones.

Funnily enough, he doesn’t mention U2, which is only strange considering the fact that his father, Paul Hewson, is known to the world as Bono.

It’s as if he goes out of his way not to talk about his famous dad and the band he leads. It isn’t until I remark how some of the guitar parts on Inhaler’s just-released sophomore album, Cuts & Bruises (Geffen), bear an early Edge-like quality – specifically ringing, anthemic two- and three-note riffs – that the subject comes up at all.

“Any similarity is kind of a happy accident,” Hewson says. “We try not to be influenced by The Edge. Obviously, he’s such an important player, so that influence seeps in. Sometimes we’re like, ‘Oh, does that sound like The Edge?’ We have to be careful about that.”

He laughs, then adds, “We just make sure to have those dotted delays off. That’s our rule. As long as there’s no dotted delays, we’re grand.”

Clearly, Hewson wants his band to be accepted on its own merits, and he appears to be winning.

Inhaler’s 2021 album debut, It Won’t Always Be Like This, was a brash and swaggering gem that topped the charts in both the U.K. and Ireland. Cuts & Bruises – led by the swinging Northern soul-tingled single, “Love Will Get You There,” and filled with absorbing post-punk aces like “Just to Keep You Satisfied” and “These Are the Days” – is a more ambitious and refined effort that packs massive punches in all the right places.

Both onstage and on record, Hewson grabs a fair amount of the songs’ guitar solos, but he shares that function with Josh Jenkinson, also 23.

“I’m called the lead guitarist, but I think it’s only because I stand to the right of Eli,” Jenkinson says. “A lot of the time, he’ll play something once, but he won’t be able to repeat it. Or he’ll come up with an idea for a riff, but I’ll take it somewhere further. We’re a good two-guitar team in that we share the same brain.”

Jenkinson, who began playing the guitar after hearing the Doors on one of his video games, joined Inhaler (which also includes bassist Robert Keating and drummer Ryan McMahon) three years into their existence. At the time, the band was playing covers while trying to forge a path for their own sound.

“I met Eli at a party and we bonded over bands we loved, particularly the Stone Roses,” Jenkinson recalls. “There was no real audition for me to join up. I just got together with the guys, and I never left.”

Much of the sound of Cuts & Bruises is framed around an ’80s guitar aesthetic – biting, arpeggiated guitar sequences colliding with ambient textures – and both Hewson and Jenkinson are avowed effects enthusiasts.

“I love my pedals, but I can’t remember the settings,” Hewson admits. “Josh is the real wizard with them.”

While recording the album, the two guitarists were guided by a principle of trying to get more out of less.

“On our first album, we were so excited to be making a record in a studio, so we went very heavy with the guitars,” Jenkinson explains. “This time, we wanted to make the parts stand out and have their own sonic space. I think all the guitar lines shine more brightly now.” He laughs. “So it’s lighter on guitars, but they have more impact, if that makes any sense.”

Hewson’s go-to guitars are a Fender 1959 relic Stratocaster reissue and a Gibson ES-330, while Jenkinson relies on a Fender Jaguar he’s had since 2019. Before acquiring that guitar, he and an earlier Squier Jaguar were inseparable, despite its broken bridge.

“He had a Nintendo DS game under the bridge to keep it up,” Hewson recalls. “We kept telling him to get it fixed, but he was like, ‘No, no, I don’t want to mess with it. I love the way it sounds.’ He still hasn’t gotten it fixed, which I find kind of amazing.”

Jenkinson simply shrugs. “Why should I mess with something that sounds so unique?” he asks. “I’ll never fix that guitar. It’s beautiful.”

Pre-order Inhaler's new album, Cuts & Bruises here.

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.”

Tell a musician to follow the rules, and you’ll invariably get a host of arguments that all boil down to the same dictum: Screw the rules. Yet Grammy-winning singer-songwriter and guitarist Daniel Tashian, who for the past five years has served as Kacey Musgraves’ main collaborator and has had success writing songs for artists such as Josh Turner, Tenille Townes and Lee Ann Womack, is a firm believer in musical guardrails.

“I don’t know if I ever got anywhere with ‘no rules,’” Tashian tells Guitar Player. “When you think about it, we have lots of rules in society that are very helpful – and they exist for good reasons. Making music is very similar. I think when you’re writing, you want to be very open-minded about letting melodies come to you, but making records is the second part of the process, and it’s very different. I’ve found that certain rules can really help you get your point across.”

On his newest solo album, Night After Night (Big Yellow Dog Music), Tashian got the chance to co-write with his longtime friend and childhood hero Paul Kennerley (known for penning hits for Emmylou Harris, the Judds and Marty Stuart, among others), but in doing so, he had to adhere to his idol’s three golden rules of record making.

One: No minor chords. “Paul writes in a certain mode, and he thinks that minor chords really ratchet up the drama,” Tashian explains. “When you take that tool out of the toolkit, you have to make up for it some other way, usually by having really good lyrics and catchy hooks.”

Which brings us to Rule Two: Hard rhymes only. “If you rhyme, say, moon with you, it’s kind of lazy and it just doesn’t hit very hard,” Tashian explains. “But moon and June nails it directly. It’s solid and it sounds better.”

Speaking of sound, there’s the last rule: Each song should have at least three acoustic guitars, preferably six. “Paul says that it shouldn’t be about drumming; it should be about strumming,” Tashian says. “Let the sound of the rhythm guitars do the work of the drums. You’ll get a really great propulsive sound. And it works.”

That it does. Tashian’s sturdy bed of briskly strummed acoustics – three panned hard right, three more hard left – form the basis for the album’s immediately accessible and catchy tracks. By design, the record was constructed to evoke the spirits of some of Tashian’s and Kennerley’s influences – Buddy Holly, Bo Diddley, the Everly Brothers, early Beatles and Stones – and to be sure, they’re all felt.

But in a funny (and not surprising) way, Tashian almost sounds like he’s channeling Tom Petty. The effervescent rockabilly title track wouldn’t have sounded out of place on Full Moon Fever, and the various treatments of country rock – whether freewheeling (“Thinking of You Too Much”) or plaintive (“She’s Sad,” “Tumble and Fall”) – call to mind the Traveling Wilburys.

Tashian dots the tracks with hooky and economical splashes of electric guitar, and he’s joined by a pair of Nashville aces: Buddy Miller on baritone guitar and mandolin, and Russ Pahl on pedal steel.

Tashian’s connection to Kennerley comes via his father, Barry Tashian, a one-time member of the ’60s garage rock band the Remains (they opened for the Beatles on their final tour, in 1966), who later played guitar for Emmylou Harris, then Kennerley’s wife.

“I’ve admired Paul since I can remember, and it was always my dream to work with him,” Tashian says. “The way he operates and the musical knowledge he possesses, it always inspired me. I’m really thrilled and honored that I got the chance to make this album with him. Things kind of came full circle.”

Your parents have a bluegrass duo, Barry and Holly Tashian, and your dad was in the Remains. It’s safe to say that music is in your DNA, right?

Yeah, because of my dad, guitars were around all the time. I thought they were fantastic. I remember crawling over to them and brushing my fingers on the strings. I loved everything about them. I loved the way they smelled. The inside of a new guitar case is one of the best smells ever. It took me a while to actually start playing. When you’re a kid, guitars are hard to play. They hurt your hands and fingers.

Was your father a built-in guitar teacher for you?

Yes and no. I don’t think he was a very dogmatic person, like, “You should do it this way.” He showed me some chord shapes, but after that, I didn’t want to sit and have a lesson. I wasn’t trying to play leads per se. I played “Honky Tonk” by Bill Doggett. He showed me that one, and he showed me “Rumble.”

Beyond that, it was up to me to figure things out. He wasn’t teaching me U2 songs. I had to look up in Guitar Player and see how to play “I Will Follow.” I loved those sorts of leads like The Edge would play. Then I started recognizing names on album covers: Nile Rodgers, James Honeyman-Scott.

Nobody mentions James Honeyman-Scott, which is such a shame. He was a phenomenal player.

Absolutely. Eddie Van Halen loved James Honeyman-Scott, because he played hooks. I never gave a shit about Yngwie Malmsteen – plus, what he does is so difficult. I should clarify that: Anyone who can make a living with a guitar has my respect, but I never cared about speed. I cared about hooks.

What kinds of guitars were you playing?

My dad had some Japanese Fenders from the ’80s: a Telecaster and a Squier. I have them now, actually. He also had a nice ’50s Telecaster, but it got stolen. I had an Ibanez acoustic guitar that was really nice. It had great tuning pegs.

Oh, I have to ask: Did your dad have any cool stories about his time opening for the Beatles while he was in the Remains?

Yeah, the Remains played something like 14 cities in 14 days with the Beatles. They were on the plane with them. They would play a show, get on a plane, play a show, get on a plane. He got to know them, and he absolutely loved them. He thought that they were just the best people. He would smoke with George while they were waiting on the runway, and sometimes he’d go to John’s hotel room and play records with him. He loved them.

That’s amazing. When did you start teaching yourself how to write songs?

When I was a teenager. I was drawn in by the early ’90s folk scene in New York – performers like Suzanne Vega, John Gorka and Shawn Colvin. I wanted to write my own songs, and I wanted to use the acoustic guitar in my music. I had a decent voice, and it seemed as if girls were interested in guys who sang lead. Singing my own songs helped me get through some of my teenage angst. It gave me something to focus on, and it helped me to communicate with girls.

Having a dad who’s a guitar player, things can go one of two ways: He could either be encouraging, or he might say, “Music is a tough life. You’ve got to have a backup plan.” How was he?

He never said anything about a backup plan, but he also said that it was tough. Still, he was encouraging, so it was everything except the backup plan part. I knew things could be tough, but my attitude was, I won’t quit.

You grew up in Nashville. Did you move to New York City to pursue your career?

I spent some time in New York, and I spent some time in L.A., but no, I never moved anywhere.

What would you say was your first big break? The first real big break?

Having a song used in a commercial. It was a commercial for maybe Tide or something like that. It was a song with my band, the Silver Seas, called “Imaginary Girl.” It was the first real money I made from music.

Your first solo album was produced by T Bone Burnett. Did he impart any kind of cool or quirky guitar things on you?

Yeah, he did. He’s a wonderful guitar player. He’s got these very manicured, elegant, long fingers, and he plays so beautifully. He showed me some cool rhythm stuff. One thing he showed me was how to place my rhythm halfway between swinging and not swinging like Chuck Berry would sometimes do.

The drums and the bass might swing, but the guitar was being played straight, like on “Sweet Little Sixteen.” Straddling that line between swing and straight always confounded me. I think T Bone learned it from Marc Ribot.

Over the years, you’ve collaborated with a pretty nice list of artists. Why do you think they’re drawn to you? What do you think you bring to the party?

I’m a clarifier. I have an opinion, and I think things should be done properly – or done a certain way. I like getting things done. Every artist wants to get something done that they’re proud of, and to get there they need structure and encouragement: “You’ve got this. You can do it.”

This is important, because when they’re creating new music, they can be vulnerable. I try to help them get there and make them feel like what they’re doing is meaningful. But I also provide structure.

Is that what Kacey Musgraves looks for?

I think she’s looking for ideas and backdrops that she can paint her colors over. She wants frameworks and ways to articulate what she’s trying to say as an artist. It could be instrumentation; it could be chords or modes. Or it could be support and providing a schedule.

She’s very opinionated about what works for her and what doesn’t, so she likes having somebody she can communicate with honestly. For instance, if she does a harmony and I don’t think it’s right, I’ll say, “I think there are some better notes for you here.” She might accept it, or she won’t.

The point is, I have to be honest with her. She doesn’t want somebody telling her something works if it doesn’t.

I have to mention Blue Umbrella, the EP you did with Burt Bacharach. Writing songs with him, how do you not get intimidated?

You could get intimidated, but that’s what everyone does, and I decided I wasn’t going to go that route. He doesn’t like it, and it doesn’t help you get anything done. I let him know that he was very special to me, and that his music was very important to me, and that was that. We got down to work.

So do you find yourself being deferential?

I mean, you do a little bit because he’s so good. He knows what to do. You have to just listen and do what he says, because he knows. I submitted the lyrics, but the melodies and the chords were his. If he says to do it a certain way, I do it the way he says. That’s his part of it, you know what I mean? I don’t step on his toes.

Let’s get into your album. Paul’s motto of “more strumming, not drumming” is so evident throughout the tunes. The acoustics really drive the rhythms.

They do. Usually a couple of Gibsons and Martins seem to do the trick. I have a wonderful J-200, and I’ve got a Martin 000-18 from ’78. I’ve also got this beautiful Bourgeois acoustic. You stack them up and capo them in different positions, and they sound great. If you do the Paul method, it’s six guitars: three on the left and three on the right.

Are you strumming the same pattern, or do you vary it a little?

I’m strumming the same pattern, but the voicings would be different for each one.

I hear minimal drumming on a few songs. Are you using a drum machine, or is that a live kit?

No, that’s me on a real kit. I started playing drums when I was a kid because it was easier to play than the guitar. You’re just banging on things, and you bang along with your favorite records. I know how to hit the drums.

I use a Ludwig kit – pretty much the same one I’ve had since I was 14. I try to play very machine-like because that’s what that kind of music needs. J.J. Cale used a drum machine all the time. How funky is that stuff?

The album’s title track features a nice twangy guitar solo. Is that Buddy Miller?

Oh, sure. You kidding me? He’s so wonderful. He knows just what a song needs. I never have to tell him what to do. Let him go!

You play a few solos yourself.

A few of them. “She’s Sad” – that’s me.

That solo has a cinematic-sounding, echo-drenched solo – very The Edge. You mentioned him before.

I was definitely going for that. The Edge is the hook master. He’s got more hooks than a bait shop. You can sing his stuff.

You get a great sound on that. What did you use?

A Gretsch 6120 through a ’64 Fender Deluxe. That’s always a good way to go.

“One Tear Fell” is a straight-up country waltz. Great pedal-steel solo by Russ Pahl.

Yeah, I usually stay away from waltzes, but I’m starting to appreciate them more. It’s a wonderful song that was started by Paul. He saw a woman he knew who lived in his neighborhood. She was in her yard and she had a tear in her eye, like she was on the rocks with her boyfriend or something. It was a little slice of life.

We recorded that one during the pandemic, so nobody was in the same room. Russ has a studio in his house, so I could just send him a song and he’d have a go at it. He sent back three passes of the solo. I listened to the first one, and it sounded so good that I just said, “That’s it.” Paul said, “No, no. You have to listen to all three.” But I didn’t think that Russ could improve on the first one, so that was it.

The song “Pretty Thing” seems to have the kitchen sink in it. You’ve got your wall of acoustics, but there’s also gorgeous, dreamy electric guitars and a lap-steel solo.

Yeah, it’s got everything. Some of the electrics are me, and Buddy is in there, too. He’s playing his baritone, I think. I might have played some lap steel, and there’s a solo by Buddy. It’s got all the elements.

You named a few guitars that you used on the record. Anything else?

There were a few others. There’s the Japanese Telecaster and Squier. I was talking to [singer, guitarist and drummer] Joe Oblon, and he was telling me that he got such a great sound from these pickups. They’re the Billy Gibbons custom pickups from Seymour Duncan. They wind ’em extra thick for Billy. I put them in my electrics, and they’re amazing. They really make a difference.

How about amps? And do you have any particular miking techniques?

I used a ’64 Deluxe and a ’53 Champ. Oh, and I used one of the new Pro Junior amps. I think the amp should be off the floor and a condenser mic should be about two feet away. People try to close-mic guitars too much.

What about pedals? Are you a big pedals guy?

I like pedals. I use Chase Bliss pedals – a few of them. What else? I use the Supa-Trem2 by Fulltone. I like that one because you can go into each amp from one side of the tremolo, and it really has a wide sound.

Do you plan to tour with this record?

I’d like to play a few shows, sure. But at the moment, the question is how to handle it with the kids. I’ve got three daughters, so we’ll have to see what I can realistically do. But I will be making music with them next. My oldest is 11, and we have two eight-year old twins. They like playing ukuleles. We’re getting into music together. It’s fun.

We’ve had more than a few momentous anniversaries in 2022. Some of the greatest milestones include 70 years of the Gibson Les Paul; 60 years of Marshall amps; and 60 years of the fuzz pedal (beginning with Maestro’s FZ-1 Fuzz-Tone). 

Also this year, music gear innovator Roland celebrates their 50th anniversary. And where would we be without Roland’s offshoot guitar brand, Boss? Those compact pedals that appeared in 1977, so influential in their design, have since become an icon of the guitar world. 

Famed for their effects pedals, Boss now offers a massive range of gear including amps, guitar synthesizers and accessories. 

And while newer guitar amplifiers like the Katana and Cube ranges have drawn widespread attention in recent years, vintage gearheads will be pleased to discover Roland has just unveiled a limited-edition model of arguably the most iconic amp to come out of Japan: the legendary JC-120 Jazz Chorus.

Appearing with a gorgeous natural cherry wood veneer and open-pore finish, the JC-120 Jazz Chorus Roland 50th Anniversary Limited Edition features a dark grey grille cloth and a commemorative badge individually stamped with the unit’s serial number (xxx/350).

Having remained in production since its release in 1975, the JC-120 Jazz Chorus claims the title of Roland’s longest-running product. Its influence cannot be overstated. In addition to several spinoff amp designs such as the mid-sized JC-40 and ultracompact JC-22, the JC-120 spawned the world’s first chorus pedal.

Putting them on the map as an effects pedal innovator, the CE-1 Chorus Ensemble – the first Boss pedal – was launched in 1976. Famed for its deep, luscious sound, many argue this standalone chorus unit has not been outclassed since its introduction.

Countless guitarists have used the Roland JC-120 over the years. Prized for its clarity, articulation and depth of tone, this solid-state workhorse has served artists as diverse as the Smiths’ Johnny Marr, U2’s the Edge, Muse’s Matthew Bellamy, the Eagles’ Joe Walsh and Hawkwind’s Dave Brock.

A decades-long staple of the stage, the Roland JC-120 is also a go-to amp in the studio. For punchy clean tones it can be hard to beat. And that deep, 3D chorus sound is something to behold when miked in stereo.

We love the look of this version of Roland’s modern classic. But with 350 being released worldwide, you’ll be lucky to get your hands on one.

Roland says the JC-120 Jazz Chorus Roland 50th Anniversary Limited Edition will be available in the U.S. for pre-order from select Boss retailers in December 2022 and in-store in February 2023 priced $1,999.99.

Good luck! 

And congratulations, Roland. Here’s to another half century of music innovation.

Visit the Roland website for more information.

Jimi Hendrix would have been 80 on November 27, 2022. 

This week, Guitar Player will be running stories in remembrance of the man who had such a great impact on our world. 

Frolicking horses; a few hundred hippies seated in order of their astrological sign; and the weirdest mic muff you’ve ever laid eyes on... All par for the course in this spectacular clip of Hendrix playing "Voodoo Child (Slight Return)" during the first of two afternoon performances on the side of a volcano in Maui, Hawaii.

“Well, I stand up next to a mountain!” he sings. And we couldn’t agree more (albeit a volcano in this case).

Captured on July 30, 1970 – just a few weeks prior to Hendrix’s untimely passing at the age of 27 – this spontaneous free gig took place a couple of days before the band’s scheduled arena concert in Honolulu and was shot with the intention of collating footage for the now infamous Rainbow Bridge film.

While the original recording was plagued with problems (to be expected in 50-mile-an-hour winds on the side of a volcano!) Hendrix delivers a fiery performance alongside his red-hot rhythm section comprising bassist Billy Cox and long-standing/-sitting drummer, Mitch Mitchell.

“Jimi loved adventure and there was certainly no shortage of it during his time in Hawaii,” said Janie Hendrix of Experience Hendrix.

“The back story of Rainbow Bridge and these recordings paint a picture of Jimi’s uncanny ability to turn the bizarre into something amazing!”

50 years later, these historical recordings were released in the form of the Jimi Hendrix Experience Live in Maui album, which was accompanied by the unmissable Jimi Hendrix documentary Music, Money, Madness… Jimi Hendrix in Maui.

The new live album, Jimi Hendrix Experience Los Angeles Forum: April 26, 1969, is out now on 2LP vinyl, CD and all digital platforms via Legacy Recordings (streaming links are here).

The new book, JIMI by Janie Hendrix and John McDermott is out November 24.

"It was a really great time in our lives,” Steve Howe says, recalling the spring of 1972. His band, Yes, had hit the upper regions of the U.K. charts with their fourth album, Fragile, and much to their surprise, they did even better in the States. Tours were sold out, the venues were getting bigger, and FM stations were spinning the album tracks “Roundabout” and “Long Distance Runaround.” 

As their unbroken, six-month string of concert dates began to wind down and they considered their next recording, the group felt as if they had the wind at their backs.

“Our spirits were very high,” Howe says. “We were young, enthusiastic, and adventurous, and we had this incredible breakthrough success with Fragile. We saw our next album as a real opportunity to prove our worth as a band. The door had been opened and we weren’t going to go backward. We wanted to sharpen our skills as far as writing and arranging. 

"Concerts come and go, but a record is forever. I think we all had a sense that whatever we did next, it had to feel like some sort of definitive statement. A record like this was destined to be made, and we wanted to be the ones making it.” 

Vast, enigmatic, full of moments of spectacular grandeur and ever-changing hues, Close to the Edge is the Lawrence of Arabia of progressive-rock albums. Comprised of just three tracks – the dizzying side-long, 18-minute title track, the equally sprawling mini epic “And You and I,” and the whacked-out, hyperactive jazz-funk album closer “Siberian Khatru” – Close to the Edge documented Yes operating at the peak of their musical powers. 

At that point, the group consisted of Howe, singer Jon Anderson, bassist Chris Squire, keyboardist Rick Wakeman, and drummer Bill Bruford. Anderson was deep in thrall to Hermann Hesse’s spiritual self-help novel Siddhartha, as reflected in his cosmic lyricism. The band responded by pulling out all the stops, surging through each passage with unbridled zeal and relentless creativity.

For Howe, the widescreen canvas afforded him the opportunity to exhaust his wily eclecticism. One minute he’s unfurling gnashing, Hendrix-like riffs, the next he’s basking in elegant acoustic serenity. Each track yielded moments of meticulous plotting or go-for-broke improvisation. For a divine example of the latter, his nearly three-minute album-opening blitz is an epochal art-rock masterstroke. As definitive statements go, his playing on Close to the Edge checks all the boxes. 

“We were quite fortunate in that we could do whatever we wanted,” Howe recalls. “We didn’t really have any kind of outside pressure to follow up a hit. I think, fundamentally, we were helped by the fact that Yes wasn’t a singles band. 

"Obviously, ‘Roundabout’ launched our previous album, and that was all well and good, but we seemed to disregard that fact. Yes were now established, and we felt like Close to the Edge didn’t need a single. If we wanted to do a 10-minute song or even something that was longer, we could do it. And as it turned out, there were stations, particularly in America, that would play the longer songs. We lucked out.”

Close to the Edge marked the second consecutive album on which the band lineup remained unchanged, but shortly after the recording sessions finished, Bruford announced that he was leaving to join King Crimson. 

“We were all taken aback, obviously,” Howe says. “Up until it happened, we felt as if things were pretty solid among all of us. Bill left mainly because of his conflicts – or should I say challenging times – with Chris wanting him to dot every bass beat with the bass drum or something. Bill had his principles and his musical taste that he wouldn’t revert from, so he left.” 

Bruford, for his part, compared the jigsaw-like process of making Close to the Edge to “climbing Mount Everest.” His replacement, Alan White, stepped in with little time to prepare. [Sadly, White died on May 26, 2022, shortly after our interview with Howe.] “Fortunately for us, Alan White was on the scene and was already hanging around,” Howe explains. “He joined us in the nick of time, as we had a tour to start.”

That trek, a mammoth nine-month stint across North America, the United Kingdom, Japan, and Australasia, would be documented in the triple-LP Yessongs, released in May 1973. “All in all,” Howe declares, “we were quite lucky.” 

Despite its lack of an obvious single, Close to the Edge bested its predecessor on the charts and received almost unanimous raves from critics (even the NME, issuing a somewhat mixed assessment, concluded that “on every level but the ordinary aesthetic one, it’s one of the most remarkable records pop has yet produced”). Over the decades, the album has grown in stature among critics and musicians alike, and it’s now generally regarded as a classic. 

It routinely tops progressive-rock polls and has been cited by guitarists like John Petrucci, Steve Stevens, and John Frusciante as a major influence. In a recent interview, Wakeman called it the band’s finest album, and Howe agrees. “It’s got all the attributes a timeless record should have,” he notes. “It’s interesting, challenging, and exciting. It was certainly interesting and challenging to make, and dare I say, I think we broke new ground. 

"You never know how something is going to be perceived as you’re recording an album. You might think that it’s going to be a landmark, but there’s just no way to judge that in the moment. You just do your best and hope for the best. So 50 years on, it’s incredible to see the long life it’s had. I hear other musicians say nice things about it, and to see it being voted best prog album of all time, it’s all very delightful.”

Before recording Close to the Edge, Yes had toured with the Mahavishnu Orchestra. I understand seeing them had a big impact on you and Jon Anderson. 

"Oh, yes, but for me it started in the early ’60s. John McLaughlin was playing beautifully with Herbie Goins and the Night Timers. He had his amp on a stool, which I then started doing – I wanted it at ear level. With Herbie Goins, John was having fun being a really creative guitarist, but he hadn’t yet found his style. He found that with Mahavishnu and went on to greater things. 

"Anyway, Yes had done some shows with the Mahavishnu Orchestra. Jon and I were knocked away; we felt they were the most remarkable band since the Beatles. They were totally different, and nobody can really top the Beatles, but as far as pure musicality goes, Mahavishnu was just so impressive. That’s why Close to the Edge starts with a kind of manic presentation. You wouldn’t expect a song or album ranting and blaring away for three or four minutes." 

The Fragile tour was quite extensive and continued for the first month or two that you were recording Close to the Edge. How much actual writing time did you have before going into the studio? 

"There was a bit. Jon and I established a pattern for writing and arranging together. It started with The Yes Album and into Fragile, where we discovered that one guy presenting a song could get knocked down very easily. But two guys? Much harder.

"We did have an awful lot of Close to the Edge arranged – parts of 'Siberian Khatru' and then 'And You and I.' Of course, a lot of credit goes to the general collective of the arranging style of the members of Yes when we were together. Jon and I had the imagination that things would project further than our little cassette once we got in the studio with everybody." 

You did a bit of preproduction. Were the tunes fully fleshed out before going into Advision Studios? 

"Not fully. We had our crude cassettes of ideas. I remember we went to rehearse in this dance ballroom – the Una Billings School of Dance in Shepherd’s Bush. We’d go in for afternoons. Bill wasn’t involved in arranging as much as Chris, Rick, and me, and Jon, of course. 

"We were trying to find how to play these tunes and how we go from one to another. We were developing them together. The rehearsal period was fairly intense. We came out of it with mockups of sections of the music, if not parts of all of it. Some of the inventive arrangements came about in the studio. What I mean is, they became clearer to us in the studio. We’d figure out how to improve them. 

"It would have been a waste of time and money to go into the studio saying, 'Okay, we’re going to start Jon and Steve’s song ‘Close to the Edge.’ We would have been there forever. We only had blocks of days, not weeks or months. We would do shows and go back into the studio. I suppose our manager was trying to get his commission, so we kept getting put back out on the road. It didn’t leave a lot of time for the studio."

Obviously, the band did a lot of overdubbing. 

"Of course. We did an awful lot of overdubbing when we cut tracks. There was a lot of creativity on the part of Chris. He always liked to improvise, as did Rick, but he wanted structure around those improvisations. And he was right – there is a structure that you need so that somebody can then improvise. 

"That was the key to a lot of Chris’s rather ponderous and slow approach to coming up with his final bass parts, because he was always thinking, Well, I’ve got to commit to this. And Bill was like, I’ve got to commit, too, so let’s get on with it!" 

Yes had been working with Eddy Offord as engineer and co-producer for a number of years. He seemed to juggle his time between your band and Emerson, Lake & Palmer. What made him the go-to guy? 

"He had been engineering the band before I arrived. On The Yes Album, we chose him to co-produce because we felt confident and comfortable with him. He had a strong personality, but he could be fun. Actually, you mention ELP – they might say that we stole him from them. [laughs] 

"When it came down to the actual hard work, he was very good. If Jon was doing guide vocals in a booth, Eddy would say, 'That was a good take, but you went wrong here,' or 'I think you could do it better there.' He was our go-to opinion. He held that gauntlet in his hand, but he never abused it. He always got the best of us. 

"Eddy was also very good with his editing. We would have different takes, and choosing which one worked best took skill and the right set of ears. Also remember, he was editing on tape – you literally had to cut them and splice them together. That’s a skill, and Eddy was great at it. If he had been a rubbish editor, he probably wouldn’t have lasted with us."

Your opening guitar solo on the album’s title track is quite remarkable. Was it an improvised, one-take deal or planned out? 

"What I opened with [he sings the part], that was a structure that I used another guitar to harmonize with, but once it goes to the next part [he sings again], that’s an improvised take. There are so many meters, either 16 or 32 bars, and we knew we were going to do them. Those breaks had to be strategically placed in our minds. I think of myself as a composer in a way, but a lot of my music is improvised." 

Which guitar did you use on that opening solo? 

"Around that time, I did a strings advert for Gibson guitars, and they said, 'We’ll give you a guitar.' And I said, 'Well, I’ve always wanted an ES-345, with stereo wiring,' so they gave me one, and I plugged into two Fender Dual Showmans – or it might have been one Dual Showman and another Fender amp. 

"That guitar became the Close to the Edge model, really. I liked to feature a new guitar on an album. On The Yes Album, it was the Gibson ES-175, and on Fragile I played the ES-5 Switchmaster. Playing a new guitar on an album was exciting. The guitar would feel fresh in my hands, and it made me excel in a new way."

You used a descending guitar line from one of your old songs called “Black Leather Gloves” for the “Total Mass Retain” section. 

"Well, yes. That’s a reference to my old band, Bodast. We had recorded an album, but it went down the tubes and disappeared completely. The label folded and didn’t put the record out. So I said, 'Well, some of these riffs are quite good. I’ll throw them at Yes and see if they like them.' Some of my riffing came from that album, as it did with the 'Würm' part of 'Starship Trooper.' It was like a tribute to that band. The music came back, and I was proud to re-use it." 

Your singing on the album is extraordinary. The way you harmonize with Jon, particularly on the “I Get Up, I Get Down” section – he’s talked about how influenced he was by the Beach Boys and the Association. Did those bands impact you, as well? 

"I didn’t quite know the Association myself, but I certainly knew and loved the Beach Boys – not that I thought for a minute that Yes sounded anything like them. Actually, I hadn’t sung in public or on records until I joined Yes, but on The Yes Album there were harmonies that I could perform in my sort of naïve, untrained way. I could sing low stuff quite easily. I was a bit nervous and was sort of bluffing a bit, but in a strange way, once I started, it all happened quite fast. 

"I think I benefitted from my not knowing the rules. So it’s been nice: Over the years, I’ve had more and more comments from people who like the sound of my voice."

What kind of acoustic guitar did you use on the “Cord of Life” section of “And You and I”? 

"The main guitar I used was a Martin 00-18 that I bought in 1968, which is the best flattop acoustic I’ve ever had, even though I now use a Martin MC-38 Steve Howe model. Because of the cutaway, I’m much happier on that guitar. I had the 00-18, but I also used a beautiful Guild 12-string that Chris Squire had owned. I was very tempted to buy it. I think I did buy one in the end. 

"There were those ones, and actually, now that I think of it, here and there I did some overdubbing with a Gibson called an FDH. It’s a very rare guitar that came to England under the Francis, Day, and Hunter [FDH] emblem. It’s a guitar I still love. It’s the second Gibson I ever bought – it cost me 50 quid. 

"It’s basically a big archtop guitar, a little bigger than a 175. I still love that guitar. I’ll give you a scoop, in fact: Chris actually tracked with that guitar. His bass on 'Roundabout' was actually tracked with the FDH with a pickup on it." 

How did you come up with that pedal-steel part in the “Eclipse” section? Are you using distortion and delay on it? 

"Probably. But it wasn’t a pedal steel; it was a lap steel, or a Hawaiian steel – call it what you like. Nowadays I only play steels with legs because I like the guitar to be rigid, and then I can play well. If it’s on my lap, it’s hopeless, because I’m working a volume pedal as well. 

"At the time, I was just sort of learning about the lap steel and its possibilities. By the time of 'Going for the One' [1977], I played that whole song on a steel. I’d really worked on my steel playing after Close to the Edge." 

“Siberian Khatru” features a riff that’s pretty much the basis for the song. How did that come about? 

"Well, there’s two riffs, really. There’s the part [he sings] that I play for probably half of the song. I’m playing that with some different approaches, sometimes with a Leslie guitar, sometimes moving octaves around. Basically, that was one of Bill’s gems. He brought that in. 

"It was a knockout to have that riff. I adopted it, I loved it, I played it. It’s a fundamental part of the song. But the other riff – sometimes Bill would do this if he wasn’t sure how to finish a line: He’d just mouth something, like a scat singer. That happened on several occasions on those first three albums. Bill was remarkable like that. I don’t think he realizes how much he contributed. But in the spirit of the arranging of Yes, it was the giving and taking of ideas, and we were really fluid with that."

You played two solos in the song, the second of which, the clean solo, you recorded without hearing what you were doing, as I understand. 

"That’s right, yeah. We didn’t often record guitars with me standing in the big studio. I liked being in the control room, where I could really hear the music. I’d done some solos, but I didn’t like them. They just weren’t doing much for me. I had the 345 all set up and I was going to tape, and I said, 'Let’s try one without listening.' Everybody thought, He’s gone mad. But okay, do that. I played, and I didn’t even realize what I’d done, but I could see it in my mind. 

"It was a different way of playing. When we listened back, I went, 'Okay, I like that.' Everybody else liked it, too. It was an eye-opener for me, because I don’t know that I would have ever played like that if I’d heard what I was doing. I truly didn’t know where I was going at the time. By not hearing it and just thinking about my fingerboard and my positionings, it came out quite good. I was delighted."

Alan White joined the band three days before the tour to support the album began. What happened there? 

"It happened quickly. I mean, Aynsley Dunbar was pretty unhappy that I didn’t invite him. We were pally and we’d played together on a few recordings in the studio. I loved his drumming. When it was announced that Alan got the job, Ansley said, 'Why didn’t you give me a call? I would have come down.' But that wouldn’t have made any difference, because Alan was in the circle of people that we knew. 

"He was friendly with Eddy Offord, and he was hanging out in the studio. He may have even jammed on Bill’s drums for a laugh here and there. Basically, we looked around and thought, Oh, Bill wants to leave – Alan’s already here; why not ask him? His reputation was such that we could ask him, and he said yeah." 

How many rehearsals did you have with Alan before the tour? I’m guessing not many. 

[laughs] "Well, I wouldn’t think no more than a couple. I don’t know how it’s possible that he got onstage after having two or three days to learn the album. We did put him through it, you know what I mean? I mean, even though we knew the songs, we hadn’t actually played them live ourselves. 

"It was a remarkable learning curve. How anybody could come in and play Close to the Edge, let alone anything else that takes the highest level of technical and musical skill – it wasn’t an easy gig to step into, but Alan did his best to listen and practice. He tried a bit of this and a bit of that. We asked him to get it right as much as he could. And he did."

Previously, Yes played theaters and big clubs; even on the Fragile tour you played the Whisky in L.A. But you moved to arenas on the Close to the Edge tour. 

"There had been a bit of time when we could tolerate those places – it felt like when I was playing gigs in England in the ’60s. But the Whisky… I’m cautious to say it was an awful place, but in a way it wasn’t really suitable for a band like ours. However, everybody played there, and I think its reputation preceded its reality. 

"It was a place to be seen at – a place to add to the list of venues you’ve played. From the Whisky we made the jump to the Hollywood Bowl. We had played as a support band for several years in America. One night we played with Jethro Tull, the next night it was Grand Funk Railroad, and the night after that it was Mountain. We opened for acts that were on the Premier Talent roster. 

"Actually, the very first gig we did in [North] America was in northern Canada. We had gone to New York and we got scared in our hotel; it was next to a fire station and all hell was breaking out from the noise. Then we went to Edmonton, Canada, for our first show with Jethro Tull. 

"We went onstage and we were like, Oh, yeah, this is what we came for, because there was a captive audience of Jethro Tull fans. Nobody knew us hardly, but we went down really well. They liked us instantly. After that, we were unstoppable."

When you finally hit arenas, did you feel as though you were in your natural element? 

"Yeah, we were ready. By the time Close to the Edge came, we were out there on our own. I think we might have invented 'the evening with' lineup, where we didn’t have an opening act. We were geared up to do a whole show of our own music. We knew our time had come, and it happened, quite remarkably."

Canadian guitarist and singer-songwriter Daniel Lanois has produced albums for such legends as Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Peter Gabriel, Robbie Robertson, Emmylou Harris and Willie Nelson.

Alongside Brian Eno he has also co-produced a number of U2 albums, including 1987’s The Joshua Tree and 1991’s Achtung Baby.

Friendly and forthcoming, he is the polar opposite of the stereotypical paranoid producer who jealously guards his studio secrets.

His unspoken attitude seems to be, why not share a good idea if it will help someone make better music?

The following interview extracts originally appeared in the June 1993 issue of Guitar Player…

What's your favorite way to record guitars?

“It's very important to record musicians as physically close together as possible. You and I are sitting about two feet apart; if we were playing acoustic guitars, we wouldn't have to wave or ask someone to turn up the cans.

“That's why I like to use two amplifiers with each guitar. Once sits right next to you; that's your personal monitor. Then I put another amp of the same type down the hall, splitting the signal with a Morley splitter box.

“I track both amps, but I usually end up using the isolated sound, which still sounds close and personal even if the amps are three rooms apart. I usually place a single dynamic mic fairly close to the speaker, but off-center.”

How about acoustic guitars?

“My main acoustic is this little Guild student model from the late '60s. It's not real loud, but it's fantastic for recording. I keep it in an open tuning; F - F - C - F - A - C low to high, or sometimes F - F - C - F - F - C.

“I don't use a pick. I sometimes mike the guitar, but more often I use these early-'80s Lawrence pickups that The Edge turned me on to.

“Pickups can actually be more musical than the pure instrument. You get additional harmonics that you don't hear acoustically.

“If you're a real purist, this idea makes no sense. But I like to take advantage of the personality of the guitar, pickup, and amp.”

Is board EQ part of the equation?

“I don't rely on board EQ to get a good sound, but I will use it to create a stranger sound.

“I'll give away one of my secret techniques: Say you've just spent a few hours mixing a song with a lot of effects, crazy EQ, and so on. Put that song away and play every other song on the record through that same mix. I guarantee that at least two or three songs will have something fantastic.

“That technique has directed me towards a lot of strange approaches that I never would have come up with normally.”

Any other mixing advice?

“There isn't room for everything to be big. Take Jimi Hendrix records as an example: The guitars are big and powerful, but the drums are like jazz kit recordings. They sound beautiful, but the snares aren't as big as a house and the kick drums don't occupy the whole spectrum.

“Something might serve the music better if it has its own little corner. That doesn't mean it's less important than the foreground, but not everything can be the icing on the cake.”

To what extent are you the architect of the guitar sounds on records you produce?

“Most guitar players have a big rig that they've worked on and put sounds into, and I usually don't mess with that. But quite often I suggest alternative rigs, usually simpler ones.

“The big rig is generally in the band room, and there's a more informal one in the console area where you're working out parts.

“For example, Bono has this old green Gretsch that we often do D.I. just to work out chords. That may sound great, so the guitar works its way into Edge's hands, and we record it that way.

“Nine times out of ten, if you just plug in to work out a part, you actually end up with a pretty good sound. In fact, a lot of Edge's sounds on Achtung Baby were recorded on this little solid state practice amp we had in the control room instead of the AC30.”

Is it possible to make a great record with an inexpensive 4-track machine and a couple of Shure mikes?

“No problem! Cheap recordings can be musical. I know people who recorded on PortaStudios and were never able to replicate the warm, overdriven sounds of those machines in big studios.

“Some of that quality comes from EQ-ing tracks when you bounce them. The version of "The Ballad of Hollis Brown" on the Neville Brothers Yellow Moon was recorded on an Akai 12-track in my apartment.

“We mixed onto a good Sony cassette machine, and I never got a better mix, so we ended up putting the cassette mix on the final album."

How about mics?

“You don't necessarily need expensive mikes. I've always recorded Bono's vocals through a Shure SM58 or 58 Beta.

“Some of the best guitar recordings are done with inexpensive dynamic mikes. I almost always use a Beyer 88 or Shure 57 or 58, though if you want a really pure vocal or acoustic recording, you might have to go with a great tube mike.

“Sometimes technical limitations just mean you have to be resourceful, and resourcefulness never goes out of fashion.

“We were going to record Achtung Baby in a house outside Dublin using Edge's big Neve console, but they couldn't get it ready in time, so we recorded most of it through a cheap Soundcraft console – basically a P.A. board.

“We did use some external Neve preamps, but the board itself sounded great.

“Remember, energy and ideas override technology. If you have the technology, use it. But if you haven't got the cash, don't worry.”

Browse the Daniel Lanois catalog here.

Many guitarists have experienced a revelation with the Electro-Harmonix Deluxe Memory Man. Radiohead’s Ed O’Brien called it his “god pedal” while U2’s The Edge famously said, “suddenly, everything changed.”

A musical legend itself, the Deluxe Memory Man was designed by electronics engineer Howard Davis after he joined the New York City-based Electro-Harmonix company in 1976.

“The first commercial product I worked on was an improved version of the Memory Man called the Deluxe Memory Man,” Davis told this writer. “It was very successful and Electro-Harmonix had a problem keeping up with demand… It seems to be recognized as a standard of analog delay pedals.”

Evolving from the original three-knob Memory Man, the Deluxe Memory Man sports enhanced features including tape echo-style modulation and a Level control in addition to Blend, Feedback and Delay knobs.

Used to outstanding effect by The Edge, the Deluxe Memory Man became a signature sound that not only delivered gorgeous tone but also served as an essential compositional tool.

Heard on U2 classics since the band’s 1980 debut album Boy, the young guitarist assimilated the pedal’s instant live samples into deceptively simple licks and riffs to create his trademark rhythmic textures.   

“We were cutting some of our early demos when we got our first Memory Man echo unit,” The Edge told Joe Bosso back in 2008. “Within minutes, I was drawn not only to the textural qualities of the echo but also the rhythmic possibilities that it suggested.”

In this clip from Davis Guggenheim’s excellent It Might Get Loud, The Edge explains how the Electro-Harmonix Deluxe Memory Man played a crucial part in the development of his electric guitar sound in the early days.

Ultimately, the Electro-Harmonix Deluxe Memory Man helped define the sound U2.

Purchase It Might Get Loud here.

MC5 founder Wayne Kramer and A-list rock producer Bob Ezrin have teamed up with the earMUSIC label in a collaboration that will see one of the longest-awaited returns in music history come to fruition.

“I’ve been thinking it’s been a long time since there’s been any new MC5 music," says pioneering electric guitar player Kramer. "I’ve been busy writing and recording a new album produced by the great Bob Ezrin. And we’ll take it to the streets ‘cause I feel like we are all MC5.”

Speaking of the project, Ezrin (whose credits include Aerosmith, Pink Floyd and Deep Purple among other household names) commented, “Kramer is a rock and roll treasure because he is keeping the spirit of the MC5 and Detroit’s unique and hugely important blend of punk and funk alive and well in all that he does.

“I’m excited and honored to be working on this project with him and the supremely talented group of lunatics we have assembled for it. We are all MC5!”

The highly anticipated new album Heavy Lifting is set for release in October 2022 and represents Wayne Kramer’s first MC5 release in 50 years.

Ahead of the album’s October release, the band will be putting out two songs: the title track “Heavy Lifting” and “Edge of the Switchblade.”

Co-written by Kramer and singer Brad Brooks along with Tom Morello, “Heavy Lifting” is described in a press release as a “fiery guitar-dueling anthem” that is indicative of the axeman’s “creative vision for the MC5 today.”

This will be followed by the Heavy Lifting Tour which kicks off at Detroit’s El Club on May 5. Joining Kramer on the road will be Brooks, drummer Stephen Perkins (Jane’s Addiction), bassist Vicki Randle (Mavis Staples), and guitarist Stevie Salas (David Bowie.)

Current tour dates also include concerts in Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Brooklyn, Sacramento, San Francisco, Los Angeles and San Diego.

Check out the “Heavy Lifting” preview here…

Tickets go on sale this Friday, March 11. Click here for more information.

Introduced in 1978, the Deluxe Memory Man delivered rich, clear electric guitar tones that made it a hit with musicians and set a standard for analog delay that endures to this day.

The Nano DMM is the latest version of this classic, and, along with a compact housing, it now includes a rate control for the modulation and an internal switch located on the foot-switch board for selecting true bypass (the default stock setting) or buffered bypass, which preserves the delay tails when the effect is switched off.

The unit has blend, feedback, delay, level, rate and depth controls, a pair of LEDs for status and overload, a front-mounted jack for the nine-volt DC power input, and side-mounted input and output jacks.

Plugged Fender Deluxe Reverb or Victoria Double Deluxe 2x12 combo amplifiers, the Nano DMM proved itself an excellent delay that sounds lush and crystal clear at settings ranging from slapback echo to long ambient delays.

Even the repeats stay very clear when the feedback knob is turned up to around four o’ clock, where the echoes start drifting into self-oscillation. The noise level is also practically nil at high delay/feedback settings, which is very cool.

The addition of the rate control is a great feature that allows you to adjust the modulation for everything from tape-like wobble to shimmering vibrato.

Delay always sounds better with some modulation, and now you can dial in the speed for exactly the modulation and feel that works best for you. In addition, the level knob lets you set the perfect volume for when the effect is activated.

The Electro-Harmonix Nano Deluxe Memory Man brings a new level of enjoyment to this classic effect, and it’s a must-have for anyone who thrives on the lush, organic vibe of analog echo.

Specifications:

• BUILT USA
• CONTROLS Blend, feedback, delay, level, rate and depth
• FOOT SWITCHES Mechanical, true-bypass (buffered bypass selectable with internal switch)
• POWER SUPPLY 9VDC external power only
• EXTRAS Extra control over modulation via the Rate knob. Handy level control. Internal switch for true bypass or “tails.” 9VDC adapter included

Visit Electro-Harmonix for more information.

Julien’s Auctions put a number of marquee acoustic and electric guitars under the hammer on November 19 and 20 at the New York City Hard Rock Cafe as part of its Icons & Idols: Rock 'N' Roll sale.

The auctions saw a number of guitars owned and played by the likes of David Gilmour, the Edge, Eric Clapton, and Eddie Van Halen fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars, some far exceeding in sales price their original estimated value.

The most prominent of these was a 1968 Martin D-45 acoustic guitar once owned by Eric Clapton, and used by him onstage at Derek and The Dominos' debut concert at the Lyceum Theatre in London on June 14, 1970.

Originally given an estimated value of $300,000, the storied acoustic sold for an astonishing $625,000.

Also fetching big numbers were two electrics associated with Pink Floyd legend David Gilmour.

The first of these was a heavily modded and customized cream Fender Stratocaster Vintage '57 reissue that was taken on the road as part of the world tours for Pink Floyd's A Momentary Lapse of Reason and The Division Bell albums.

Shown at a Fender exhibition in the US in December 1993 and at EMI's 1997 Music 100 exhibition in London, the guitar was dubbed "Cream No. 2," and served as a trusty backup to Gilmour's favorite cream Strat. It was sold by Julien's for $200,000.

Additionally, a black Stratocaster – autographed by Gilmour – was sold for $51,200, with all proceeds going to the Teenage Cancer Trust.

The auction's most unexpected big-ticket item, however, was a 1976 Gibson Explorer used onstage by U2's The Edge. The guitar mostly served as a backup on the world tour for U2's blockbuster 1987 album, The Joshua Tree.

Put under the hammer with matching photos proving its provenance though, the guitar sold for a whopping $437,500.

Additionally, a Gibson Les Paul Standard – also used onstage by The Edge – fetched an even $96,000.

As if that wasn't enough star power, the auction also featured an Eddie Van Halen-played EVH Frankenstrat replica bearing the autographs of both Eddie and Alex Van Halen.

Gifted to Kevan Hill – a childhood friend of the Van Halen brothers, and a member of their first band, Broken Combs – and boasting five 2012-era Van Halen picks and bike reflectors, the guitar sold for an impressive $83,000.

For more info on the full Icons & Idols: Rock 'N' Roll sale, stop by juliensauctions.com.

On this day, in 2005, the guitar world lost one its most groundbreaking and influential artists, Frederick Lincoln Wray, Jr. aka Link Wray. Though Wray released many critically acclaimed recordings throughout the course of his decades-long career he is widely known for his 1958 hit “Rumble.”

A tense, brooding electric guitar instrumental that swings from prowling open chord distortion to a violent outburst of frenetic strumming and back again “Rumble” has often been cited as a missing link between blues and hard rock.

Like many other career-defining tracks such as Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” and ZZ Top’s “Tush,” Link Wray & His Ray Men’s “Rumble” came together extremely fast – in this case during an impromptu stage request.

While performing at a record hop in Fredericksburg, Virginia in 1957, pioneering rock ‘n’ roll deejay Milt Grant requested Wray and his band play a ‘stroll’ (a popular rockabilly dance of the late ‘50s) in order to introduce the Diamonds – a band who were at the time riding high on the success of their hit “The Stroll.”

Though Wray was not au fait with the number and felt unsure how to kick things off, his younger brother, Doug, quickly sprang into action with a drum beat. Suddenly, inspiration struck like a bolt of lightning and Wray’s iconic Dsus2/E riff was born. 

Spiced up with a cheeky B7 and a descending E minor pentatonic lick it’s the epitome of cowboy chord cool.

Wray’s older brother, Ray, then grabbed the vocal mic and placed it in front of the guitarist’s cranked Premier amp. Saturated in natural distortion and pulsating with tremolo the souped-up sound drove the audience wild.

“The only mic they had back in those days was just the singer’s – they didn’t mic the amps or anything,” recalled Wray. “You couldn’t even hear [bassist] Shorty, and Doug was playing so loud because he was playing with the butt ends of his sticks, so all you could really hear was me and Doug.

“And the kids, they just went ape and were screaming over me… We had to play it about four times for the kids. They kept hollering and screaming, banging on the stage, “Play that weird song! Play that weird song!”

“That weird song” (also referred to by Wray as “Oddball”) was released the following March titled “Rumble.”

Clocking in at just under two-and-a-half minutes, this short, sharp shock of rock was immediately powerful enough to get itself banned on radio – inevitably adding to its kudos and mystique.

Down the line, countless guitar players have been quoted as fans of this game-changing, career-breaking classic, including Bob Dylan (“'Rumble' is the best instrumental ever”) and Pete Townshend ("If it hadn't been for Link Wray and ‘Rumble,' I would have never picked up a guitar.”)

And in this clip from the brilliant 2008 documentary It Might Get Loud, Jimmy Page can be seen listening to this landmark seven-inch immersed in reverence. “I listened to anything with guitar on when I was a kid that was being played,” he tells Jack White and the Edge.

“But the first time I heard “Rumble” – that was something that had so much profound attitude to it… It really does.”

Browse Link Wray's catalog here.

Many so-called new designs from small-shop guitar makers borrow a little here or there from existing classics. But you know you’re doing something right when the design’s originators send customers your way for orders they don’t want to fulfill themselves, such as left-handed versions. 

The same is true when you try to retire a model and its clamoring fans won’t let you. So it goes with Kauer Guitars’ Banshee Deluxe.

While the company is celebrated for its fully original designs, the Super Chief and Starliner models being two of the best, the Firebird-inspired Banshee was one of the California guitar maker’s first creations, produced even before the company existed as a production manufacturer.

“After founding Kauer Guitars around 2008, I didn’t build Banshees for the first couple years,” Doug Kauer explains. “I wanted to stand on the merits of my own designs.” 

But as demand for his pre-production reverse-bodied creations increased, he had a change of heart. Since then, Kauer and his five-person team in Elk Grove, south of Sacramento, have put their own twists on the model, distinguishing it from the copies and clones out there.

“Learning how to make the flamed-maple top work on a neck-through guitar - that was a big one,” Kauer admits. “And on the current version of Banshee, the control cavity and the spacing between the pots is, like, 15 percent bigger than on a traditional Firebird, which makes a huge difference on the wiring.”

Whatever its origins, the Banshee Deluxe utterly screams rock and roll, its iconic shape beautifully updated in this rendition with a characterful flamed-maple top.

Kauer has pulled off some nifty tricks to get this lovely piece of timber to maintain its grain pattern across the stair-step height changes required by the neck-through construction, and this one glows beneath a Dark Burst finish, with a golden-caramel fade at its center and a richer amber on the backs of the body and neck. 

It’s immaculately sprayed in the gloss urethane Kauer switched to years ago after he hit his limit for California’s legal allowance of nitrocellulose and discovered that the change doesn’t impede tone or feel one iota.

Kauer believes in sustainable tonewood alternatives, and the Spanish mahogany (often called Spanish cedar) that forms the body’s back and the neck/body-core section is one of his most-used components. 

White binding gels with the flamey top to enhance the elegance and is nicely complemented by a black pickguard with a slightly relic-looking Banshee graphic etched in gold.

Meanwhile, a well-placed ribcage contour at the upper waist creates a comfortable fit for seated playing. Another benefit of Spanish mahogany comes in the weight department: Even with its sizable body, the Banshee Deluxe weighs just above seven pounds.

The neck/body-core section is a three-piece construction with a narrow strip of Spanish mahogany at its center. The wood is cut from the same blank and reversed before it’s glued in, so the counter-posed grain pattern helps to self-stabilize the full length. 

This one is carved to Kauer’s standard C shape, which is a relatively beefy ’59 LP-inspired profile (0.87 inches deep at the first fret and one inch at the 12th) that fit my hand extremely well. 

The bound fingerboard is comprised of wenge, another alternative tonewood, which has a subtly stripey diagonal grain pattern and looks and feels like a cross between rosewood and ebony.

Pearloid keystone inlays take position-marker duties. Kauer sticks with the reversed theme for the headstock, with a six-in-line set of Kluson banjo tuners arrayed across the underside. In use, these feel a tad stiff, but that’s sometimes the nature of the beast.

In another point of departure from the early ’60s classic, the pickups on this model are a pair of full-sized Kauer ’buckers custom-wound to general PAF specs by Wolfetone, and reading 7.40k ohms in the neck position and 8.57k ohms in the bridge. (The guitar is also available with P-90s, mini-humbuckers and other pickups.) 

They’re wired through individual volume and tone controls and a three-way switch. The bridge consists of a reliably solid Tone Pros Tune-o-matic and a stop-bar tailpiece.

Anyone who’s played a guitar built to the classic reverse-bodied F-bird template knows there is something about it that nudges you toward the upper frets, urging you to squeeze out riffs. The Banshee Deluxe is no different. 

That aside, a little adjustment and familiarity brings the cowboy-chord region within reach, and this neck plays easily and sweetly in all positions, thanks to virtuous construction and faultless fret work by the in-house Plek treatment every Kauer guitar receives after final assembly. 

The guitar rings loudly when played unplugged, with balance and clarity that bode well for the tonewood equation. But the fun begins when I fire up a Friedman Small Box head and 2x12 cab, a Carr Lincoln 1x12 combo and a Fractal Axe FX III through the studio monitors. 

Kauer’s vintage-leaning humbuckers, choice of woods and the body and construction style have produced a rock warrior with serious sting in its tail. The Banshee Deluxe is great at chunky, tight chordal work amid medium overdrive, yet single-note riffs retain plenty of bite and clarity even when you turn up the gain. 

Overall, it exhibits an enjoyable blend of thickness and snap without ever leaning overtly toward one or the other. Which is to say, it can rock like crazy and clean up beautifully when desired.

I find the traditional full-sized humbuckers used here make for a more versatile instrument, not predisposing you to that eviscerating Johnny Winter–esque brightness of the mini-humbuckers in the original early ’60s incarnation.

The result is a guitar that will do just about anything you might expect from a good Les Paul, SG or other high-quality 24.75-inch-scale, set-neck dual-humbucker creation, while adding the feel and refinement of a well-crafted, boutique-grade instrument. If its look and feel move you, this is a great way to get your reverse-body ’Bird buzz on.

• The Kauer Guitars Banshee Deluxe is priced $3,995 street. See Kauer for more details.