“I’m pretty much a ghoul. It works for me most of the time,” says guitarist Paul Caiafa, better known as Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein, the super-buff, bare chest-bearing, monster makeup-wearing, extreme pompadour fusion enthusiast who first made his name as the riff-tossing axeman for New Jersey horror punk legends the Misfits before forming his own freaky-deaky outfit, Doyle.
Caiafa has always had a grip on the show biz aspect of music, but he’s also got the uber-aggressive chops and licks to get any respectable mosh pit going. It’s been that way since 1980, when he replaced Misfits guitarist Bobby Steele (who replaced original member Franché Coma) and joined his brother, bassist Gerald Caiafa Jr. (better known as Jerry Only), and fellow Lodi native Glenn Danzig in the pioneering punk outfit.
Up till then, Caiafa had been the group’s roadie, but after a guitar lesson – as in, just one lesson! – from his brother and Danzig, he was off and running, recording on classic albums and EPs like Walk Among Us and 3 Hits from Hell, as well as the unreleased full-length (and now collector’s item) 12 Hits from Hell, and touring with the band until their breakup in 1983.
“The funny thing is, people think we came out of this big scene in New Jersey, but that wasn’t the case at all,” Caiafa says. “The Misfits were their own scene. We were pretty much it as far as the kind of music we play.”
Over the years, he’s formed his own bands – with his brother, there was Kryst the Conqueror, and with his former wife, Stephanie Bellars, there was Gorgeous Frankenstein – and he’s performed with Danzig in various configurations, but since 2013 Caiafa’s primary focus has been on his own act, simply called Doyle, which also features former Cancerslug vocalist Alex “Wolfman” Story.
The group have released two stomping and crunching albums, Abominator and Doyle II: As We Die, that spotlight the guitarist’s irrepressible six-string skills.
“Wow… That’s quite an honor,” he says, “especially since I don't know any clefs or arpeggios or scales or theory or anything. I'm actually tone deaf. I can't figure songs out. I write what I write, and I play the songs I play, and that's it.
“I think all guitarists think they’re crappy,” he continues. “Who walks around like, ‘I’m so great,’ you know? But to me, everybody’s incredible. I have friends who are just insane guitar players. I watch them warm up, and I'm like, ‘I think you've played more notes in that warmup than I've played in my entire life.’ You know what I mean?”
There have been sporadic Misfits reunions over the years (legal fights between Danzig and Jerry Only over songwriting and merch rights nearly derailed the band entirely) – this past April, Caifa joined his old mates in an “Original Misfits” gig at Coachella.
Currently residing in Canada, the guitarist is working on new Doyle material while overseeing Von Frankenstein Monster Gear – the company produces guitar and bass strings, but Caiafa plans to expand the line to include pickups, cables, effects pedals, and amps.
A dedicated vegan, he also markets his own “Vegan Monster” protein powder and “Made in Hell” hot sauce that he calls “the best I ever tasted. We added Italian spices to it and made it fucking awesome.”
What did you think of the Misfits when you were their roadie? Were they good without you?
Oh yeah, they were always good – I mean, the songs were good, and Glenn’s a great singer, of course. I joined them when I was 15 years old. That’s when we recorded 12 Hits From Hell. Before then, I used to rehearse with the band whenever the guitar player wasn’t around. A lot of times, I’d rehearse with Jerry and the drummer in the garage. After that, they let me play on the album, and that was that.
In the beginning, you guys didn’t tour that much.
Not that much at first. We'd play every couple months in the city.
The guitar lessons you received from Glenn Danzig and your brother – what did they entail?
It was just one lesson. Glenn taught me barre chords on the E and A strings, and Jerry got a piece of paper and drew the notes on those strings.
So one lesson, two teachers. You couldn’t play barre chords before Glenn showed you how?
I mean, if you don't know it, you don't know it. [Laughs] If you don’t know how to play a barre chord, the fingering can be weird. It was really hard when I first tried it, but now it's like holding my dick – it’s easy.
Nobody had to draw that out for you.
[Laughs] I needed three guys!
How long after that first lesson did it take you to get good?
I'm still working on that right now. I got a guitar in ’78, and I was in the band two years later. Most of my playing and practicing was done with the band out in the garage. I didn't really sit in my room and play because the only thing I knew was those songs. To this day, it’s all about playing the songs. I don’t sit and play anything else.
Every show was like a fucking war. There were tables and chairs flying around, people getting tossed everywhere – totally crazy
Were there any players who influenced you at all? Anybody you tried to emulate, even a little bit?
I would say it was the Misfits. I mean, that's the style – the downpicking. I would watch them rehearse and I picked up on it. Franché Coma, Bobby Steele, and Jerry, too – Jerry played with a pick, all downstrokes. To me, that was normal. Those guys were influences. I loved Jimmy Page and Brian May and Joe Perry and the guys in Alice Cooper… Mick Ronson and Steve Jones… the guys in Generation X, all that stuff.
I loved it all, but I really didn't imitate anybody's sound. I might've invented the scooped guitar sound, because I just took the mid-range and put it on zero.
You didn’t know about anybody else doing that?
Nah. I just had to do it. I can’t have that mid-range in my head. I said, “This sounds like shit. Let’s shut that shit off.” Then I put the treble on 10 and cranked the distortion pedal – amps didn’t have gain back then.
You should have cranked your volume all the way.
I couldn’t do that. It would’ve gone crazy. It’s uncontrollable when you stop.
Were your early gigs pretty rugged? Lots of fights, I imagine…
Every show was like a fucking war. There were tables and chairs flying around, people getting tossed everywhere – totally crazy.
How about backstage? Were there fights between bands?
Oh yeah – everywhere. It was a friendly rumble all the time. People would just go absolutely nuts. Shows were much crazier back in the early ‘80s at the clubs than they are now.
Did people start shit with you?
Sometimes you’d get somebody who wanted to be a jerk-off. I was like, “C’mon, don’t be a jerk-off.” I would try to avoid that shit. If you want to push me there, then I’m gonna get mad that you pushed me there. But what I really didn’t like was all the smoking.
Everybody smoked in the ‘80s, and we couldn’t fucking breathe. Nowadays it’s much better because there’s no smoking. If I go into a place and there’s smoking, I immediately send the tour manager after the club owner: “You tell him we’re leaving right now if people are smoking.” It’s gotta be a no-smoking gig. If I smell smoke, I’m not doing it.
You draw the line there.
Absolutely. I say, “We’re giving back the fucking deposit. Day off.” I don't give a fuck. I'm not fucking breathing that shit. Doesn’t matter if it’s pot or cigarettes – it’s all horrible.
What goes into your sound now? What are you using?
I'm still chasing a sound. I've been able to get it lately. I use these solid-state power amps called Elements – they don’t make ‘em anymore. They’re 1600 watts each, and I use two. I use a preamp that a buddy of mine makes. We call it the “Annihilator.”
Can you describe the sound you’re chasing?
I want it to sound like a jet engine.
Are there effects involved in this?
We're using an EVH chorus and Boss delay and reverb, and I have a Morley Michael Amott wah. Oh, and I have a Whammy pedal… I use that for Doyle, but not the Misfits.
You’ve had your own Dean signature guitar, the Annihilator, for a while. That thing is nuts. How heavy is it?
Some of them are really heavy. The ones they make for me aren't as heavy, but they’ve got other ones that are pretty heavy.
Because you’re into weightlifting, right?
No, it was just the materials I wanted to use. They have a hard time making it because of the shapes. I make them the way I want. When they don't make it the way I want it, I don't want it.
The Misfits recorded their earliest songs and albums at small New Jersey studios close to Lodi. Were they decent rooms?
They were good. There was a place in Fair Lawn and one in Boonton, and there was Fox Studios in East Rutherford. We would go in the studio with $3,000. We didn't know you could punch in and punch out. You know what I mean? These were all one-takers, everything. We had to get it all done quick.
On a few early tracks like Hate Breeders and Halloween, your guitar sound is reminiscent of Johnny Ramone.
Of course! I mean, the Ramones and the Ramones. Anybody who doesn't like the Ramones doesn't know what the fuck they're talking about. And anybody who thinks they could play that shit is full of shit.
You played some spirited little solos on those tracks. Hate Breeders has some crackling lines.
[Scoffs] I still don't know how to play solos. When I have to play a solo, I panic, man. I can’t just blow a solo off the top of my head. I don’t know what notes go with what. I just hear something in my head and try to find it.
Glenn hasn’t changed a bit. He’s the same guy as when I met him, which is mind blowing, because he became a star
Have any fans ever dissed your solos?
I guess. I’d probably agree with them.
What’s your relationship with Glenn Danzig like? Is he a tough guy to get along with?
We have a good relationship. I played with him in Danzig for nine years. I used to live near his office in Hollywood. I’d bring my daughter and go hang out with him. Glenn hasn’t changed a bit. He’s the same guy as when I met him, which is mind blowing because he became a star. My brother’s the same guy, too. They’re both super funny.
You had a couple of other bands before Doyle – there was Gorgeous Frankenstein and Kryst the Conqueror.
Yeah. We were just learning how to write music.
You’ve really become the king of squeals since then. The two Doyle records are packed with squeals galore.
I just do it, you know? I don’t even think about it. I use my second finger, the middle finger. I don’t use my thumb.
I’ve talked to these great players, and they show me how they do squeals. Then I show them how I do it, and their eyes get really big. They’re like, “I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.” Same thing with palm muting – nobody showed me how to do it. I was literally lying down and playing, and I had my hand resting on the guitar. I was like, “Whoa, how the fuck did I do that? Are you kidding me?”
That track God of Flies from As We Die, that thing sounds like it was recorded in a dungeon.
Sure. I recorded it at our factory downstairs – we call it “the Pit.” I recorded all of that stuff myself.
I imagine terrible things going on in the background while you’re playing it.
Terrible things are always going on somewhere – things we can’t talk about.
- This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.
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