“My wife has told me, ‘I see from the outside that you can’t stop. This is who you are, this is what you do’”: George Lynch on resurrecting his band, what it would take for him to go back to blues, and chasing that elusive masterpiece
Returning with another Lynch Mob album – despite attempts to ditch the name – the Dokken guitarist reflects on his bad decisions, what went wrong with the original lineup, and the ongoing hunt for his own Band of Gypsys
Lynch Mob were supposed to be done and dusted after 2023’s Babylon and the ensuing Last Ride tour. Why did that change?
“I don’t make good decisions!” George Lynch laughs. “I can play guitar okay and write a couple of good songs when I need to – but other than that, you don’t want me running your 401k. Let’s put it that way!”
He’s back on the road with yet another incarnation of Lynch Mob, supporting 2025’s Dancing With the Devil. He says he’s happy with around half of the album but that “some of it missed the mark.”
Which means he’s still chasing his magnum opus to bookend his work with Dokken and Lynch Mob.
“I don’t look at any of it as a disappointment,” he insists. “I’ve played with all these wonderful people. Now I don’t try to make a square peg fit into a round hole, and I try not to make bad decisions. I have people to help me with that, so things have been a lot smoother!”
The guitarist also accepts that his solo band name might be tied to him forever – and he can live with that.
“We’re not down in the mines, dying of the black lung; we’re playing music,” he says. “I was raised with a rigid work ethic and that will always be a part of me.
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“I try to align that with what I do and not feel too guilty about just playing guitar instead of actually working! All the people who come to see us have real jobs. I try and respect that.”
The new Lynch Mob album, Dancing with the Devil, surprised people who thought the band was over. Why did you change your mind?
I announced we were disbanding, and we called the tour The Final Ride, said our goodbyes, and shed a few tears. Then, like three weeks later, we got back together and did an album. The whole thing was to get free publicity!
Really?
“Lynch mob” is a touchy subject; the optics are terrible. I tried a couple of times to change the name, but it didn’t stick. I love the band, the music, and playing with my friends; but the connotations of the name are too dark and heavy.
I made a critical mistake 35 years ago and I try to walk away from it – but I end up coming back. I’m a bad businessman!
But you’ve made plenty of good music. Maybe your style of decision-making is part of the charm of the George Lynch experience?
That’s one way that you could spin it! My wife wouldn’t agree with you. I need you to talk to her, dude – explain that it can be viewed that way, like it’s charm. We’ll think of it as charm!
When did you realize that you wanted to make another Lynch Mob record?
When people offered me more money to play more shows! It worked out that it’s a negotiating point. Saying I’m done was like a game of chicken, you know? It was like, ‘What does it take to get you back?’
But seriously – just because you hit a certain number of years doesn’t mean you’re gonna feel like you want to be semi-retired. I absolutely don’t feel that way. So there was really no reason not to do a record.
You’ve had a volatile ride since the debut album, Wicked Sensation. What was your intent back then?
To create my dream band as best I could with what I had available to me. I thought the original concept of the band with the original members would be a lasting thing that people could depend on. But that didn’t happen, obviously.
We have this long history, but it’s very fragmented and punctuated by the revolving door of musicians who have come and gone. I joke that it’s almost like a rite of passage to come through Lynch Mob and do your time – like a boot camp!
Was there a battle to keep things fresh versus keeping with the early Lynch Mob sound?
I don’t think of it as keeping it fresh as much as continuing to chase that ideal dragon – trying to grab that perfect riff, song, groove, and solo that gives you goosebumps and takes you over the top.
That’s the soundtrack going through my brain since I was a kid. I’ve never captured it; never put that genie in a bottle. I think I get close, which makes me more frustrated. I hear other bands do it, at least from my perspective; I’m like, “Holy crap, this is life-changing!”
Maybe the closest I’ve gotten is Wicked Sensation, or maybe some of the Dokken stuff was flirting in that area. I don’t know; I think I’ve captured lightning in a bottle for a few moments, but not consistently. That’s what drives me.
Even Eddie Van Halen didn’t capture the same magic on, say, Van Halen III, that he did on the debut. Maybe you’re being a bit hard on yourself.
It’s not even a requirement to get there – I could just skate along, which I do sometimes, and do what comes naturally. But I feel at this point in my life that I could do better; I have an obligation or a desire to do one more record, or even one more song that’s a magnum opus.
What does that sound like in your mind?
It’s that one thing that defines you: the one thing you feel you’ve been designed to achieve your whole life. And it’s okay if you don’t get there, but you feel compelled to try. The main reason that I haven’t gotten there is that I haven’t gotten my Band of Gypsys yet – and I think I’m inherently lazy.
I don’t know about that. Your output is pretty frenzied.
If you were with me in the studio, I think you’d see what I mean. Maybe “lazy” isn’t the right word. I’ll show up and I’ll work 10 hours. But it’s reaching that next level, like a Boston record – that’s a good example.
Would you rather have followed Tom Scholz’s example, making just a few records of “perfect” songs rather than an extensive catalog?
It’s not the amount of music, it’s the quality, and having really high standards. I’m lazy about micro-focusing, managing every aspect of the songs and the messaging, until everything is absolutely right.
I don’t offer myself that kind of luxury, though I did on Wicked Sensation. I spent a lot of time and money, gave it a lot of attention, and did things over and over again until they were right. That’s the only time I’ve ever done that.
Have you been unable to do that because Lynch Mob’s lineup has been so volatile?
The foundation of that record was the members, and the key member is Oni Logan. I’m a singer guy; in my head I’m writing for singers. I’m just a frustrated singer, really! When you lose that key member it changes the chemistry. It’s just been a discombobulated ride ever since.
Do you think the Wicked Sensation lineup might have made that magnum opus?
It would have had a much better chance. The second record would have been the correct follow-up to the first – bluesy and greasy, with the same vibe – if it had been Oni. But we decided to completely shift gears, which was a terrible idea.
But God bless Robert Mason! He’s one of the greatest rock singers in history. But he’s so different from Oni, and it was a very wrong decision to replace him with a guy like that because it confused people. It’s like, “Coke changed their recipe again, godammit!”
But I don’t think the odds were good for any version of the band existing for long. There were behavioral reasons and things like that, and personalities were also contributing factors.
How do you view the future of Lynch Mob?
As we get older, health changes, and there’s life challenges. But if it defines who you are, what else are you gonna do? My wife has told me, “I see from the outside that you can’t stop. This is who you are, this is what you do.”
I don’t like traveling or leaving home. I don’t like going out and getting exposed to getting sick or getting hurt. But I love it when I’m there with my friends, kicking ass on stage and having a blast. That’s what life is for us – that’s the payoff.
If I were going out there and nobody was showing up, I’d be done. But that’s not what it is. I’ve been blessed with playing with wonderful guys that I love.
I could kind of exhale; go back to my roots. Maybe play mountain music or country blues or experimental. More introspective than just the big, loud rock thing I’ve done for decades
How do you view your status as a player?
I feel like I’m on the edge of either resting on my laurels or breaking through and doing something a bit transcendent. Not from an ego standpoint, but from a human accomplishment standpoint. I’m getting a bit older here but I still have my chops.
I don’t wanna start getting into a rut. I wanna break through, but in the right way. I want it to be something that defines me, and is the bookend. We did Lynch Mob and those great Dokken records; now, we need something to kind of cap it and make a huge statement.
If you find your Band of Gypsys, would you stop?
Let me get to that point and we’ll have that discussion. But my initial thought is that I could kind of exhale; decompress a little, go back to my roots and lay blues.
Maybe play with some friends locally, play mountain music or country blues or experimental – whatever comes to mind. But do something more personal, more introspective than just the big, loud rock thing, which I’ve done for decades.
Maybe it’ll be time to shift gears once I feel I’ve accomplished the other thing.
- Dancing With the Devil is released on November 28 via Frontiers Music.
Andrew Daly is an iced-coffee-addicted, oddball Telecaster-playing, alfredo pasta-loving journalist from Long Island, NY, who, in addition to being a contributing writer for Guitar World, scribes for Bass Player, Guitar Player, Guitarist, and MusicRadar. Andrew has interviewed favorites like Ace Frehley, Johnny Marr, Vito Bratta, Bruce Kulick, Joe Perry, Brad Whitford, Tom Morello, Rich Robinson, and Paul Stanley, while his all-time favorite (rhythm player), Keith Richards, continues to elude him.
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