One thing that has always appealed to me about blues guitar soloing is that it can express emotions much in the same way as the human voice.

A key factor in making the most of what the instrument has to offer is articulation. It’s all about the many variables in the pick attack, as well as fret-hand technique.

But another option is to “hide” the pick and incorporate a fingerpicking approach. I do this by tucking the pick into the flexed knuckle joint of my index finger and then pick the strings primarily with my thumb and middle finger.

To demonstrate, Figure 1 is a fingerpicked phrase based on the F minor pentatonic scale (F, Ab, Bb, C, Eb). I use my thumb to pick the lower strings and my middle finger to pick the higher strings. There is a “pop” to the notes and a breadth of tonal variations that can only be achieved with fingerpicking.

One of the greatest purveyors of fingerpicked blues soloing is Albert King, and you’ll find yourself in A.K. Land pretty fast when taking this approach. In Figure 2, I begin by thumbpicking the G string then use my middle finger to pick the B string, leading into a big, two-step “overbend” and release, from Ab to C to Ab.

On beat 4, I bend and release the Bb note on the 1st string’s 6th fret with my index finger (practice those index-finger bends!) and then slide the finger down to the 4th fret.

In bar 3, I make reference to the V (five) chord, C, via the C major pentatonic scale (C, D, E, G, A), with some chromatic passing tones added. In bar 4 I reference the IV (four) chord, Bb, by playing a few notes from Bb major pentatonic (Bb, C, D, F, G), before wrapping up with a return to the I (one) chord, F with lines based on F minor pentatonic.

By fingerpicking a note, you can greatly vary its volume, tone and character, more so than when using a pick. In Figure 3, I stick to picking only with my thumb on the low strings to demonstrate just how much warmth this way of playing can produce.

Herein lies the beauty of the blues: each simple melodic line can be phrased and articulated in so many different ways, which is dictated by how you feel. And this is greatly impacted by how you perceive the audience to feel.

When performing live, there’s a rapport between you and the audience. You know it’s right when you hear cheers, and you know something’s not right when everyone heads for the bar.

A good example of how I build from a blues approach to branch off into other sounds can be heard on The Ballad of John Henry. As shown in Figure 4, there’s an E minor pentatonic lick (E, G, A, B, D) that alternates with G5 and A5 power chords.

When soloing over it, I can start with the blues element by fingerpicking, as I do in bars 1-2 of Figure 5, then shift to using the pick (bars 3-4) and incorporating the more exotic sound of the E Phrygian-dominant mode (E, F, G#, A, B, C, D) before returning to straight blues. You can start with rock and end with B.B. King! Or vice versa.

• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

There are several benefits to be taken from this solo, even if I do say so myself, depending on how you might choose to approach it. First, the selection of ideas is particularly useful to call upon in a trio situation where there is limited harmonic support available from a simple groove-based backing like this.

Second, there are useful pentatonic/blues scale ideas, transferable to any key and not limited to the trio format. And, not least, third, there is a kind of SRV vibe, so that’s always nice!

In a broader sense, this solo is also an exercise in rhythm. Often the phrases coincide with the drums, but, as you’ll hear, the first example plays swung eighth notes, which deliberately contrast against the accents of the kick drum and bass guitar. Elsewhere, I’m somewhat mindful of where there should be a space, to let a drum fill breathe or simply to take a moment to decide where to go next.

One of the steepest learning curves we can embark on is to record ourselves improvising in a scenario like this, then listen back and evaluate the results. To get the full benefit, it’s important that we make an ‘honest’ recording – don’t overthink or compose anything at first.

Listening back can be tough, but this is information nobody else can give you. It’s also true that there can be some nice surprises, often resulting from the moments when we feel we slipped and didn’t play something the way we intended to in that moment.

Coming back to an earlier point, many players are also surprised to hear how much they’re filling the space, especially in a slower/half-time context such as this. All that said, do use these ideas as extra vocabulary, but aim to improvise as freely as you can. Hope you enjoy and see you next time!

Example 1

We start this opening phrase with a series of swung eighth notes, deliberately contrasting against the accents from the bass guitar and kick drum. I’m drawing on pentatonic patterns here up to and including the second bar (not counting the pickup bar). In bar 3, we change to some rhythmic.

Example 2

We're starting with quite a long pickup bar here but moving swiftly on to break the flow a little. This allows some of the bass guitar and kick drum accents to ‘poke through’ during the gap, giving the feeling of interplay between the elements – and avoiding possible listener fatigue from a constant barrage of notes...

The overall feel is derived more from triplets (both quaver and semiquaver) than swung quavers. The last E will be reused at the beginning of Example 3. We thought this phrase sounded better with it in isolation and didn’t want to cut it from the next phrase!

Example 3

Starting with that duplicate E, this final example has one of the longest pickup bars we’ve seen, but it all makes sense once you land on beat 1 of bar 1!

This starts with some sustained blues bends, before mixing up some triplets, swung quavers and doublestops in bar 2. We revert to a more rhythmically simple pattern in bar 3 before digging in to some heavy accents on an E7#9 chord.

This coincides somewhat with the drum accents, but the most important consideration is to dig in with confidence. A good drummer will probably follow…

Hear it here

Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble – Texas Flood

This album is packed with exemplary playing in a trio format. What’s more, it was recorded live from the studio floor.

There is something to be learned from every track, but perhaps the most relevant to the approach highlighted in the example solo are Pride and Joy, Texas Flood and I’m Cryin’.

Though always technically proficient, Stevie manages to create excitement without sounding like a rock player. His rhythms also sound super-confident.

Robin Trower – Robin Trower Live

Another example of a trio-based record, here Robin fills a lot of space without coming across as unaware of the other instruments or the vocals.

His soloing can oftentimes be frenetic, but there are many areas where he’ll happily hold a note and let the bass and drums carry things.

Check out Too Rolling Stoned (with its somewhat conspicuous edit!), and for the ultimate laid-back live feel make sure to have a listen to Daydream. The live version Day Of The Eagle is also one to track down.

Philip Sayce – The Wolves Are Coming

This is a very ‘in your face’ production, but the arrangements are carefully constructed to allow all the instruments to have their place in the mix. Have a listen to Oh! That Bitches Brew, Your Love and The Moon Is Full.

Honourable mention also goes to Intuition for its more laid-back feel, dynamics and bluesy soloing. Though this is very much a studio production complete with rhythm guitar and keyboards, it’s not too hard to imagine this arranged for the trio format.

• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

Jethro Tull’s first album, 1968’s This Was, featured guitarist Mick Abrahams and leaned in a decidedly bluesy direction. That approach didn’t work out for the British soon-to-be-prog rockers, and neither did Abrahams, leading to a short spell during which some guy named Tony Iommi took up six-string duties in Tull before bandleader Ian Anderson found his long-time running mate in Martin Barre.

Barre’s first album with Tull, 1969’s Stand Up, was a harbinger of things to come, meaning less blues, more flute from Anderson and undertones of prog. But there was heaviness, too; the record featured riffs that stood up to anything Iommi, Ritchie Blackmore or Jimmy Page were doing.

“We’d recorded Stand Up, and that was a new direction for Ian because Tull was a blues band,” Barre says. “And then suddenly we were this other animal you couldn’t put a title to.”

Barre did his best to put a title to said animal by kicking the riffs-meet-prog into overdrive for Tull’s third record, 1970’s Benefit, showing that he, too, was on the precipice of guitar-god greatness. Of course, Barre didn’t know that at the time – and doesn’t necessarily see it that way today.

“I just played,” he says. “We didn’t really investigate tone and sounds. We just got in there, and the sound of Jethro Tull was there, needing to be examined.”

Examine it they did. Songs like With You There to Help Me, To Cry You a Song and Teacher showcased Barre’s open-minded approach as well as Anderson’s status as a guitar maestro.

“I guess it was what was going to become prog,” Barre says. “The birth of prog sounds stressful, but it was exciting. We didn’t know if people were going to like it. Jethro Tull was a blues band, and they were like, ‘What’s happened to you?’ But slowly, we won them over. We had what people would call a ‘blank canvas’ because nobody knew what to expect. It was a relief in many ways.”

The relief didn’t last long, as Benefit was disregarded upon its release in April 1970. Rolling Stone even called the album “lame and dumb.” But as time has gone on, Tull did more and more of that winning people over that Barre talks about, and in retrospect, time has been kind to Benefit.

By the time Benefit came out, Tull were moving away from blues and toward prog, but the album also has a ton of heavy riffs.

At that point in time we’d been touring, and we’d met bands like Led Zeppelin and all these great bands. We knew Jimi Hendrix, Jeff Beck and Cream; they were bands we loved and listened to, so we were going to be influenced by them. That’s what everybody was doing.

When I play, I think, “There’s a riff that hasn’t been invented, and it’s probably not difficult.” I love the power of a great riff. There are classic riffs that were immortalized by Hendrix, Beck and Jimmy Page, but I love the concept that music can be so simple but so important because the riffs are so dynamic. I guess everybody fed off everybody else.

The general understanding of Tull’s music is that Ian played the acoustic guitar parts and you the electric, but that wasn’t entirely the case on Benefit. Ian is a better player than he’s credited.

Yeah, he is. He was a guitar player before Tull, and he told me he started listening to Clapton, Beck and Hendrix and realized he was never going to be as good as them, so he turned to the flute, but he is a great guitar player.

It’s a very focused area of play, but what he does – because I’ve learned his acoustic parts – is really good. They’re fun to learn, demanding and very, very precise.

Do you remember recording With You There to Help Me, which has a distinctive guitar flare and features you and Ian?

We both played electric. Ian played a rhythm track, and then I put all the riffs, bits and pieces. It was all live in the studio, so the whole band played that track live to record it.

Were there many overdubs on Benefit?

No, it was nearly all live. Maybe we used some overdubs, and I don’t know if [we had] an eight- or 16-track, but there weren’t many, so you didn’t have the luxury of doing 20 takes and then taking the best bit from each one.

Even when you overdubbed a solo, it was a live solo from beginning to end. You couldn’t drop in and repair it, so we mainly recorded it live in the studio.

To Cry You a Song has an incredible harmonized guitar riff. Was that you and Ian together?

Yeah, that’s me and Ian again. It was fun. It was inspired by Blind Faith’s Had to Cry Today. It’s a similar feel and riff, and we just had a lot of fun with it. I think it shows in the recording. You can tell it was something that was really easy and positive to put together.

What guitars were you using while recording Benefit?

Well, it wasn’t good stuff! Benefit was done on a Les Paul that I bought, and I’m ashamed to say that it was a fake. [Laughs] I didn’t know it then, and I loved it. I just wanted a Gibson Les Paul because when I was at college and starting in bands, it was the Holy Grail.

Just to see one was like, “Oh, my God,” you know? You wouldn’t even need to touch it; it was this… thing. You couldn’t have it, and you couldn’t find them, so you couldn’t play them, but they had this mystique about them, which, I guess, they still do. Not in my mind, but they still do.

Where did you get the Les Paul copy from?

Stand Up was done on a Les Paul Special, a really beat-up thing I bought from a shop in London. But then, I bought this [fake] Les Paul from a dealer in America, and that was the one guitar; it’s all I used for the whole record. Nobody had two guitars in those days; you couldn’t afford it! But yeah, it wasn’t a great guitar. [Laughs]

You used Hiwatt amps in the studio.

The Hiwatt amps weren’t particularly good, either. [Laughs] They didn’t drive easily; they weren’t really rock amps. Marshall began doing that well and [were available] at the time, but we all used Hiwatt, so that side of it was against everything, with the formula of a fake guitar and Hiwatt amps that weren’t very good and didn’t inspire.

I didn’t really know anything about amps or guitars at the time, so you just made the best of what you were given. And I had a sort of treble boost pedal to get a bit of sustain at the Hiwatt.

How do you feel about Benefit now?

We were really happy with it. Going back to the way Stand Up was received, we knew we were going to make a good album. Whether it sold tens or hundreds of millions of copies, that was never the formula.

We were just so confident, enthusiastic and positive about making more music in that direction. That’s what rock bands did. They just went in their own direction. It was great fun to make. If it had failed and sold nothing, I still would have been happy with it.

• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

Martin has partnered with Joe Bonamassa for two signature guitars that pay tribute to one of his most prized vintage acoustics.

The 00-18 and 00-10E are both inspired by the blues maestro’s 1937 Martin 00-18 Shade-Top. The release marks Martin's second collaboration with Bonamassa, after the pair partnered back in 2024 for a meticulous five-figure recreation of his 1941 000-45.

But this time, both a premium and a more accessible model have been released, each offering the same 00 body shape and 1937-style sunburst as Bonamassa’s original.

What’s more, they’ve both been carefully aged to replicate the top wear of the source material, in a bid to capture “the appearance of an instrument that was spent decades making music.”

Made in the premium Nazareth shop, the 00-18 features a solid spruce top with mahogany beck and sides. There’s Golden Era scalloped X-bracing, faux tortoiseshell binding and a Golden Era Modified Low Oval profile to its mahogany neck.

The more affordable Navojoa-made 00-10E, meanwhile, swaps in sapele back and sides, with scalloped spruce X-bracing and a Performing Artist neck profile. This one also has Martin E1 electronics, with volume, tone and phase controls.

Both models have already been put through the wringer by Bonamassa. The Nazareth model was mic’d up in the studio, and apparently JoBo’s producer preferred the prototype to the original.

More impressively, the cheaper model was played on stage when Bonamassa had a gig with a fellow guitar legend.

“I couldn't believe it when I first saw the one that came out of Nazareth and the lower end model, which is really great too because it has electronics,” he says.

“And the electronics sounded great. The first time I tested it, I had this gig in New York with Slash, and we were doing an acoustic opener.

“I didn't have an acoustic guitar at my house with a pickup, but Martin had just sent over these two. I was like, ‘Oh cool, it's got a pickup’, and I plugged it in. I was like, ‘Great!’”

The 00-18 and 00-10E are available now for $3,999 and $1,299, respectively.

Visit Martin for more.

Jeff Beck was once asked to follow in Eric Clapton’s post-Yardbirds footsteps when he was scouted by John Mayall for the Bluesbreakers.

In the 1960s, Beck and Clapton both cut their teeth in the Yardbirds. After Slowhand left in 1965, Beck was drafted in as his replacement. And, when Clapton departed his subsequent seat in Mayall’s band shortly after, Beck was high up on the list to replace him yet again.

The prospective move made sense. The Bluesbreakers was a fellow incubator of British blues and rock music. It would go on to welcome Peter Green, Mick Taylor, and other guitarists destined for greatness among its ranks over the years.

Mayall had earmarked Beck to fill the vacant guitar spot. But this time things were different. The project wasn’t quite what Beck was looking for.

“He did,” Beck told Guitar World readers in May 2010, when asked whether Mayall ever approached him.

“John called my mum several times. He found my mum’s number, and she said to me, “Oh, that John Mayall sounds very nice!” [laughs] But I didn’t want that – I didn’t want to be playing blues all of the time.”

The blues-heavy direction didn’t appeal to Beck, who had grander designs on experimenting with a more distinctive rock guitar sound. Plus, he didn’t think he could live up to his predecessor.

“I’d seen Eric with them, and he was fantastic, really,” Beck reflected. “He did the job better than I could have, and I just didn’t want to have that challenge. My musical taste was changing radically from 12-bar blues.

“I might have done better in that band than in the Yardbirds, but I certainly would not have been given the same kind of free rein to do the experimenting that I did in the Yardbirds”

Mayall had shown interest in Beck before. He’d attended a Yardbirds gig before he broached the idea of the two teaming up. He even gave some rather pointed feedback.

“He was very straightforward. He never embellished or gave us any flowery comments about the gig,” Beck remembered, “He said, ‘The audience loved it, but there was not much blues, was there?’

“And I thought, ‘Excuse me, but this isn’t a blues band.’ It sort of was, but he’s a purist and he was listening for Little Walter-style harmonica solos.

“I didn’t want to be mimicking Chicago blues musicians forever. My thinking was, We’re not them, we’re not Black, we’re British middle-class kids and let’s get on and do our own music. We had a bit of disharmony about that, but not to take away from John’s dedication to it.”

Mayall got a no, Peter Green got the gig, and six months after leaving the Yardbirds (having been fired on tour in the US in October ’66), Beck released his first solo single Hi Ho Silver Lining, with Beck’s Bolero as the B-side.

A year later he dropped his seminal debut album, Truth. The rest was history: Beck went off in his own direction and became one of the all-time greats of rock guitar.

There’s no doubt he made the right call, but still, we can’t help but wonder what Beck in the Bluesbreakers would have sounded like…

Les Paul was a man of many fine qualities, but understatement probably wasn’t one of them. Rather than ease loyal Gibson customers into the concept of a solidbody electric guitar, Les came out swinging when he specified a metallic gold finish for his official signature model. Back in 1952, it would have shone like a supernova in an era of muted sunbursts.

With the metaphorical dial already turned to 10, Gibson had its work cut out when devising an even more upmarket version of Les Paul’s signature guitar, but it still had a few more cards to play. It’s almost as if someone on the design team pondered about the world’s classiest musical instrument and decided it was probably a concert grand piano.

With its lustrous gloss black lacquer finish, gold-plated hardware and multi-ply body binding, the Les Paul Custom must have seemed like a lap Steinway when Gibson introduced it at the 1954 NAMM Show. But it wasn’t simply a glitzed up version of the Goldtop, because there were several differences.

Peculiar Customs

Of greatest significance was a change in the way the body was made. The Goldtops that preceded the Custom, and the sunburst Standards that followed it, are all known for their maple tops. In contrast, Custom bodies were carved from a single slab of mahogany, so they didn’t have the dampening effect of a maple cap.

There were significant changes to the neck, too. While most (but not all) 1952 and 1953 Goldtops had fairly substantial neck profiles, the Custom necks often feel a bit slimmer and faster. Upmarket ebony was favoured over Brazilian rosewood for the fretboard and, rather than use celluloid nitrate inlays, Gibson ‘upgraded’ to mother-of-pearl blocks with wider fretboard binding.

Perhaps the most contentious change, from a contemporary player’s perspective, was made to the fretwire. Les Paul would whizz around the fretboard interspersing lightning-fast runs with jazz chord voicings. To facilitate his style, Les specified fretwire that was wider and even lower than the relatively small wire used on the earlier Goldtops.

In its promotional literature, Gibson said: “Players [who] rave about its extremely low smooth frets and playing action call it the ‘Fretless Wonder’.” Les wanted the frets to be as close to imperceptible as possible, but for players who like to bend strings more than a semitone, Customs can feel like hard work.

This may be one reason why most big-name players of the ’60s and ’70s chose other models and Customs have always been less popular, collectible and valuable than Goldtops and ’Bursts.

Few liked the wrap-under iteration of the trapeze tailpiece that Les Paul designed. It worked well and sounded fantastic in wrap-over form on the ES-225 and ES-295, but most players would have welcomed the stability of the fixed wraptail bridge that superseded it on Goldtops in 1953.

Here’s where things get contentious because some consider the wraptail to be the best-sounding bridge that Gibson ever fitted to Les Pauls, but the counter argument is that intonation can never be perfect.

Leaving aside the fact that Gibson somewhat undermined its own efforts by positioning it sub-optimally, the Tune-o-matic bridge and stoptail combo allowed strings to be individually adjusted for intonation.

Although the first Gibson with a Tune-o-matic was the 1953 Super 400, the Les Paul Custom was the first solidbody to have one. The two models also shared the same inlay on the front of the headstock.

Staple Diet

Another feature unique to Les Paul Customs made before 1957 was mismatched pickups, and this was almost certainly done at the behest of Les Paul himself. If you closely examine footage of Les playing very early Goldtops, you will notice that whatever pickup he had in the neck position wasn’t a P-90.

The giveaway is wide and off-centre round polepieces with a series of smaller holes that seem to indicate he was using a DeArmond Dynasonic under a cream plastic cover.

Whether he was actually using stock DeArmonds in disguise or, as suggested by his tech Tom Doyle, pickups that Les wound himself using DeArmond parts is open to debate. But one thing we can say for sure is that Les wasn’t using P-90 neck pickups. Given that he was Gibson’s number one endorser and something of a superstar at the time, this must have been seen as problematic.

Rather than ape Gretsch and simply buy Dynasonics from DeArmond, Gibson tasked Seth Lover with creating a Gibson version of the Dynasonic. The resulting pickup is often called the ‘Staple P-90’, but besides the shape and size it’s a very different pickup from a regular P-90 and has a clearer and a more ‘hi-fi’ sonic characteristic that is oddly reminiscent of – you guessed it – the DeArmond Dynasonic.

Early Customs provide the best of both worlds because you still get the snarlier joys of a regular P-90. The Staple’s power means the P-90 has to be set quite high to balance out, but with such differently voiced pickups it’s a mismatch made in heaven. In that sense it’s a bit like a Telecaster and yet far more versatile because the pickups have individual controls.

There was something about the way Gibson wired controls and wound pickups in that era that allowed volume adjustments without losing clarity and tone finessing without losing definition. Watch any footage of Paul Kossoff and you’ll see him continuously switching pickups and using the controls. It’s entirely possible that he learned to do so on this actual guitar.

Prior to the introduction of the humbucker in 1957, the Staple P-90 was Gibson’s most prestigious pickup and featured in various high-end jazz guitars as well as the Les Paul Custom. The ‘Staple’ nickname was probably inspired by the thin rectangular polepieces, all of which had height-adjustment screws.

It’s interesting to note that for the Staple P-90 Gibson reverted to the pickup mounting method used for a brief period on the bridge pickup of the earliest Goldtops, with screws going through diagonal corners.

Blues Boomers

Maybe it’s because of the frets, the non-robust gold plating or a long-standing preference for Patent Applied For pickups over P-90s, but very few big-name players are associated with pre-1957 Les Paul Customs.

The guitar we’re featuring here is an exception because it belonged to two British blues legends – Paul Kossoff and Eric Clapton. We caught up with its current owner, Matthieu Lucas of Matt’s Guitar Shop in Paris, to learn more about its history.

“My understanding is that the guitar was brought back to England in late 1965 or very early 1966 by Paul’s father, David Kossoff,” Matt recalls. “He was an actor who travelled back and forth to the US and he bought it from Manny’s in New York. Paul was playing an SG Junior at the time, so the Custom was basically the first serious two-pickup Les Paul he ever owned.”

Paul auditioned for a North London blues combo called Black Cat Bones in 1966. The band’s drummer Frank Perry joined the band in the summer of 1966, shortly after Paul, and he recalls Paul having a black Les Paul at the time, but [remembers Paul] quickly acquiring a sunburst Les Paul.

Since Paul was only on the cusp of turning 16, he probably wouldn’t have been acquainted with a rockstar like Eric Clapton. It’s most likely he traded the black Custom for the ’Burst at Selmer’s and, since Eric was a regular visitor, that’s probably where he bought Paul’s guitar.

“Clapton was certainly playing a 1950s Custom around that time,” Matt insists. “There are quite a few pictures of Clapton playing a Staple P-90 Custom with Cream at the Marquee Club, and we don’t know of any other pre-1957 Custom that was played by Clapton, except this one.”

It was very rare to see Clapton playing P-90 Gibsons during the Cream era, so it’s tempting to imagine him experimenting with different guitars before he moved onto the Firebird, ES-335 and SG that he’s most closely associated with during the mid-to-late 1960s. He did play another black Les Paul Custom, notably with Blind Faith and Delaney & Bonnie, but that was a three-pickup 1958 model that he later gifted to Abert Lee.

Matt offers another clue that Kossoff and Clapton owned the same Custom: “Paul didn’t like the way the binding was turning yellow, so he stripped the lacquer off the binding to make it white again. You can see in the Clapton pictures that the binding is very bright white and it remains that way today.”

Accounts suggest that Clapton left the guitar at the offices of Cream’s agent, the NEMS Organisation, in April 1967 because it was surplus to requirements for a forthcoming US tour. This is where the name Howard ‘H’ Parker enters the story because it’s thought the guitar was passed to him in lieu of payment.

Parker was a well-known face on the late-’60s music scene in London who worked as a roadie and road manager for Hendrix, Pink Floyd and Cream. He kept the Custom under his bed, and when he died in 1974 the guitar passed to his friend and fellow road manager John Wilson who kept it under his bed for the next 32 years.

Although aware of the Clapton connection, Wilson had no idea the guitar had belonged to Paul Kossoff. This was discovered when he took the Custom to auctioneers Cooper Owen in 2006.

“They only found out about Paul’s ownership when they removed the switch and control covers,” Matt reports. “Paul used to put paper stickers under the covers and write his name on them. He sometimes wrote the serial numbers of guitars and his address on there, too.”

“At some point it supposedly belonged to Duff McKagan,” Matt adds, “but I actually have no proof of that and I haven’t asked Duff personally if he ever owned it. I just know that after Howard Parker it went through several hands and apparently went to Japan at some point. It definitely ended up in Florida when Melvyn Franks was building his guitar collection. I bought it from him about 10 years ago.”

We’re obviously curious to know how the guitar feels to play and whether the neck profile is thinner than the ones generally found on 1958 or 1959 ’Bursts?

“Actually no, I would say it feels quite a beefy neck to my hands,” Matt insists. “It’s actually quite fun with this guitar because it has a very unique profile. It’s fuller and really not comparable to any other mid-’50s Customs that I’ve played before now. If I had to define it, I’d say it’s the type of chunky C profile I would expect to find on a ’58 Standard.

“What’s really nice is that the original frets are almost unplayable… but still very playable at the same time. It’s very weird because when you get to the high notes, there are basically no frets left. It’s like the definition of a Fretless Wonder, but at the same time it’s very easy to play. It’s also super light for a Les Paul Custom and weighs just 3.84kg, which is just under 8.5lb.

“The hardware, frets, pickups, potentiometers and the caps are all original to the guitar, along with the finish. It remains exactly as Kossoff and Clapton left the guitar. Although I do have some photos of Clapton playing it with a white or cream pickguard. But, for sure, this guitar has either been stored under a bed or owned by collectors from that point onwards.

“That’s probably why it has survived the way it has,” Matt concludes. “It’s an exceptional-sounding guitar. Every artist that has played it goes crazy about it, and it has been owned by two legends for a reason. It’s really a special instrument.”

• With thanks to Matthieu Lucas of Matt’s Guitar Shop in Paris for allowing us to photograph this historic guitar.
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

When Ginger Baker, Jack Bruce and Eric Clapton were putting together Cream in summer 1966, Eric had with him his Les Paul. This was the guitar that we now know as the ‘Beano’ ’Burst.

He’d bought it the previous year when he was a member of John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, but now he plugged it in for Cream’s early rehearsals at a church hall in north-west London.

However, before he’d had a chance to play it in public or in the studio with his new band, it was stolen from the hall. Infamously, the ‘Beano’ ’Burst’s whereabouts remain a mystery to this day.

Eric began to seek a replacement, at first borrowing a few guitars. He used Keith Richards’ Bigsby-loaded ’Burst in July for Cream’s debut at a festival in Windsor (and a try-out in Manchester the night before). In a London club in August he played a cherry double‑cut Les Paul Special borrowed from support group The Clayton Squares.

Eventually, probably in August ’66, he bought a ’Burst from Andy Summers, the Summersburst that recently emerged thanks to Matt’s Guitar Shop in Paris. In the early months of the following year, Eric dismissed that guitar when it was the victim of an unsympathetic repair.

A New Psychedelic Fool

Perhaps he started to wonder if Les Pauls were jinxed for him, and he settled on a circa-1964 cherry-finish SG Standard – a different style, for sure, but with familiar humbuckers and control layout. Within a short time he took it to a pair of Dutch pop artists newly arrived in London, Marijke Koger and Simon Posthuma, who later started an art collective – and, briefly, a band – that they named The Fool.

Marijke and Simon painted colourful scenes and swirls all over the guitar, which Cream fans know as ‘The Fool’ guitar. Eric later called it a “psychedelic fantasy” and he played it as his main stage guitar throughout 1967 and into the summer of ’68, recording with it extensively, too, notably on much of Disraeli Gears.

On tour in America in spring ’67, Eric scooped up a few more guitars: a three-pickup 1958 Les Paul Custom, a Fender XII and a Danelectro Standard 3021. Again, he’d record some of Disraeli Gears with the Custom, and played the XII on Dance The Night Away. On a few occasions he played the Custom and the Dano on stage, but none of the three would count among his most favoured instruments.

A significant purchase came along in May ’67 when he went to Sound City in London and bought a secondhand 1956 Stratocaster, the one that later became known as ‘Brownie’. He got it just days before Cream travelled to New York City to record Disraeli Gears, heard at least on Tales Of Brave Ulysses, with its Strat-like tones and aggressive wah-wah sounding like an homage to the current king of the Strat, one James Marshall Hendrix.

Aside from sporadic uses in Cream, this Fender would later feature on stage regularly with Eric when he began touring with Delaney & Bonnie toward the end of 1969, and it was also prevalent in the studio during 1970 for his first solo album and the Layla sessions.

In his autobiography, he recalled how at age 12 he’d first seen a Strat, in the hands of Buddy Holly on a TV show.

“I thought I’d died and gone to heaven,” he wrote. “It was like seeing an instrument from outer space, and I said to myself: ‘That’s the future – that’s what I want.’ Suddenly, I realised I was in a village that was never going to change, yet there on TV was something out of the future. And I wanted to go there.”

Meanwhile, Eric hadn’t given up entirely on Telecasters: in 1968 he botched together a bound Custom Tele body and a contemporary rosewood-’board Strat neck.

During a brief visit to Denmark in February, Cream were filmed for an of-its-time movie, Det Var En Lørdag Aften (It Was A Saturday Night). In one of two scenes in which they appeared, performing We’re Going Wrong, Eric is seen with the unusual Tele/Strat hybrid.

This oddity’s most visible appearance would come in June ’69 when, now with a maple neck, it was his main guitar throughout Blind Faith’s debut concert in London’s Hyde Park.

A further acquisition on a US Cream tour arrived in April ’68 in the reverse-body shape of a 1964 Gibson Firebird I. At the time, Firebirds were not considered to rank among the front-running Strats and Lesters and Teles that many prominent guitarists of the day treasured. But the Firebird was nonetheless a useful instrument, and his single-pickup model turned up on stage during the band’s farewell dates later in the year.

More Les Pauls and a 335

Eric could be generous with guitars to his friends, and the most famous example concerns a Les Paul he gave to George Harrison. It was a ’57 Goldtop refinished in cherry that George would name ‘Lucy’ and use on several ‘White Album’ and Abbey Road cuts.

In September ’68, he asked Eric to play the recent gift once more, on While My Guitar Gently Weeps, an event that saw Eric become the only non-Beatle to play a guitar solo on a Beatles record.

The cherry-refin Goldtop had been owned by Rick Derringer, guitarist in The McCoys, and before that by John Sebastian of The Lovin’ Spoonful. Derringer decided the guitar was so beat up it could do with a fresh new finish and, living not far from the Gibson factory, he delivered it there in the mid-’60s with instructions to paint it with an SG-like cherry finish.

When he got it back he felt its quality had suffered in the process, so he traded it for another guitar at a New York City store – which is where Clapton acquired it, and Clapton in turn gave it to his Beatle chum.

Toward the end of ’68, Eric acquired his third Les Paul ’Burst, which he used occasionally on stage during Cream’s farewell tour. This one, too, did not last long, going to Paul Kossoff in a trade when Free supported Eric’s new band, Blind Faith, the following summer.

Another key purchase that most likely took place in late ’68 concerned Eric and his 1964 ES-335. Why “most likely”? There’s been speculation about when he got the 335 thanks to conflicting claims and a tangled history.

Eric was seen with this guitar on Cream’s final farewell dates at the Albert Hall in London, and he kept it until selling it in 2004 at one of his Crossroads-benefitting auctions. Eric recalled then that he’d bought it when he was still with The Yardbirds.

While there were certainly a couple of 335s around in that band – mostly played by Chris Dreja – specs and serial numbers and shipping dates prove that neither was the one Eric played in ’68.

Photographer John Peden snapped Eric at a San Francisco Fillmore gig in summer ’67 where, as one might expect, he played the psychedelic SG… but also apparently a red ES model, possibly a 335.

More recently, Jerry Donahue has said he sold the Albert Hall 335 to Eric a few weeks before the London shows of the farewell tour. At the time, Jerry was still an up-and-coming guitarist – this was before he’d played with Fairport Convention, Joan Armatrading, The Hellecasters and others – and he had a day job working at the Selmer music shop in London.

That leaves three possible scenarios. The first is that Eric bought the Albert Hall 335 in 1964 while in The Yardbirds, never played it at the time but instead kept it hidden away for years, only pulling it out for a gig at the Fillmore in ’67. Then he put it away again until the London gigs. But why would he go so long without using what is clearly a great guitar?

The second is that he bought the Albert Hall 335 in San Francisco in 1967, played it on one gig, and then squirrelled it away until the London shows. Same question: why would he ignore such a great guitar for so long?

The third scenario seems most likely, that Eric bought the ’64 Albert Hall 335 from Jerry at Selmer in 1968, a few weeks before the London shows. But a four-year-old guitar? Well, we know that Eric had a taste for used guitars.

Of the dozen Cream-era electrics itemised in this feature only one, the Electric XII, might have been new – but even that could well have been secondhand. He was so taken with the benefits of budget-friendly used guitars that when he sat down with a ’60s interviewer who wanted to hear some tips for guitar buyers, Eric said that he’d recommend seeking secondhand instruments.

He gave his reasons: such instruments are “broken in and easier to play”, he insisted, and “the older the guitar the better it seems to have been made”.

Jerry Donahue recalled a happy Eric as the deal was sealed at the Selmer shop for that lovely ES-335.

“He really liked it,” Jerry said, “the feel, the sound – it was perfect. Certainly, it took no time at all for him to get his wallet out.” Even when you’re God, sometimes it’s impossible to resist the lure of a potentially great guitar.

• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

What happens to iconic guitars after a famous (or cult hero) guitarist dies? These days it’s common to see instruments sold at high-profile auctions and vanish into the clutches of anonymous collectors with deep pockets.

However, some guitars live on in museum collections, remain under close guard as family heirlooms, or get passed along to famous player friends, where they continue to make history.

We decided to take a closer look at five of the most celebrated Telecasters (actually, one is an Esquire) played by guitarists we’ve loved and lost, and figure out where those instruments are now. Today, we look at Muddy Waters’ circa-1957/58 Fender Tele, aka “The Hoss”.

Rightfully revered as the “father of modern Chicago blues,” Muddy Waters greatly inspired blues guitarists as well as rock players in England and America during the ’60s and beyond.

From the mid-’60s, when he gained prominence and acclaim from white rock audiences, through his death on April 30, 1983, at the age of 70, Waters was regularly seen and photographed playing a bright red Telecaster on stage. This Tele, which Waters nicknamed “the Hoss,” became almost a holy relic among devotees of electric blues.

Waters acquired the Tele, probably as a brand-new purchase, sometime during the late ’50s. It was a standard 1957/58 model with a maple neck/fretboard and light blonde-finished ash body that looked almost white.

Despite numerous accounts claiming that Waters painted the guitar red and swapped the maple neck for a later version from a Telecaster Custom with a rosewood fretboard during the early ’60s, a photo shot on May 7, 1964 – while Waters was filmed in Manchester, England, for the Granada Television special Blues and Gospel Train – shows that the Tele was still in its original blonde/maple neck configuration.

By the summer of 1965 (as verified by credibly dated photos), Waters had performed several significant modifications to the guitar. The original 1957 body remained, but it was now painted in a vivid, metallic red hue, and the aforementioned circa-1959-61 Telecaster Custom neck with slab rosewood fretboard also made its debut.

Waters also replaced the chrome-plated metal flat-top control knobs with a set of skirted and numbered plastic knobs from a Fender amp, a mod that may have inspired Fender’s switch to these knobs on Telecaster Custom and Deluxe models starting in 1972.

At some unknown point during the ’60s, four extra screws were added to the original five-screw pickguard to keep the pickguard from warping. Finally, in 1980, Waters swapped the original ashtray bridge with three smooth steel saddles to a gold-plated flat-plate brass bridge with six adjustable saddles.

Although Waters played a variety of other electric guitars earlier in his career, including a goldtop Les Paul, his “Hoss” Telecaster with its red finish became an icon thanks to its appearances in numerous photos and television appearances from 1965 onwards. This was the guitar Muddy played at several Montreux Jazz festivals from 1972-77, on his 1977-81 “comeback” albums produced by Johnny Winter, and at high-profile concerts with Eric Clapton, Robert Cray, and the Rolling Stones.

After Waters died in 1983, his manager Scott Cameron took possession of the “Hoss” Telecaster. It appeared in public occasionally and was displayed at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame museum in Cleveland starting in the ’90s. George Blanda of the Fender Custom Shop closely examined the guitar in 1999 when Fender developed the Muddy Waters Artist Signature Series Telecaster produced from 2001 to 2008.

In 2017 after Cameron’s death in 2015, Cameron’s widow gave the guitar back to Waters’ family, where it remains to this day. Most recently it was displayed in 2019 at the “Play It Loud” exhibit at New York City’s Metropolitan Museum of Art.

• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

Joe Bonamassa has called out “armchair quarterbacks” who are having a damaging impact on guitar culture.

Ever since Adam asked Eve how the apples were, people have had opinions. It comes with being sentient. It is part of the human condition.

But only in the 21st-century has every single individual on the planet had the means to broadcast their opinion – and this paradigmatic change in how we communicate with our fellow human beings has put the zap on some people’s heads.

Guitar culture is no exception. It might even be one of the more dysfunctional discourse spaces on the web.

Joe Bonamassa has had enough of this. In a recent interview with Guitar Interactive Magazine, he took aim at the “armchair quarterbacks” who are doing a lot of commenting, maybe less playing.

“I could sit in my chair and say to Tom Brady, ‘I could have thrown that ball better than you.’ No, you can’t,” says Bonamassa.

The blues guitar superstar says it is so bad that it’s affecting pro musicians’ mental health, citing the famous episode when Nick Jonas “clams” a solo when playing with Kelsea Ballerini at the ACM Country Awards in 2016.

“That one that caused this guy to go into therapy,” says Bonamassa.

Jonas went viral, memes were created to tear him down, and an artist who has struggled with stage fright for a number of years had to seek professional help, all because of what he called “a huge brain fart”.

“We’ve all done that,” says Bonamassa. “Everybody’s done that. You know, like, ‘I didn’t even know what I was thinking!’ But the vitriol. What do you want him to do? Burn his guitar in effigy? Like, jump off a cliff? The guy had to go to therapy! What’s wrong with people?”

“Kenny Wayne Shepherd and I have been on stage a lot together, the last five, six years. It’s not a competition,” he continues. “We don’t look it like that. Warren Haynes and I, we’re on stage a lot. We’re having fun. But what do they expect? A trophy at the end? A cash prize? A judge that goes, ‘I declare the winner!’ like a fucking boxing match.”

Perhaps, yes, and that is all kinds of weird.

As fast friends and close collaborators, Eric Clapton and Duane Allman formed one of rock guitar’s most potent partnerships.

They may not have been in a band together per se, but that didn’t stop them from working together on one of Slowhand’s most iconic recordings.

At the turn of the 1960s, the Allman Brothers Band guitar hero was a Clapton fan. The feeling was mutual. Clapton said Allman’s turn on Wilson Pickett’s Hey Jude was the greatest rock guitar playing he’d ever heard.

Allman wanted to meet Clapton. And so, when he caught wind that he was coming to town to record a new record, Allman requested a meeting through a mutual contact.

“I said to Tom Dowd [producer for both the Allman Brothers and Derek and the Dominos], ‘Man, you’ve got to call me when he comes to town,’” Allman told Good Times magazine in 1971, which was re-published in the November 1991 issue of Guitar World. “‘I want to hear him play, and I want to meet him.’

“He’s a good player and I’ve always admired him a lot – his style and everything he ever did,” Allman continued. “So Dowd told me, ‘He’s going to be in. Come down.’ So I got down there, and Eric knew who I was – he’d heard some of my records and stuff.”

The pair, clearly fans of one another, decided to work together then and there. This was no ordinary collaboration, though. Allman caught Clapton at a good time.

With his band Derek and the Dominos, Slowhand was about to set to work on what would become Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs – a magnus opus that would be widely regarded as one of Clapton's finest works.

“He said, ‘Okay, man. We’re going to make us a record here, and we’re going to have two guitar players instead of one,’” Allman remembered. “Then we made the Layla album.

“And we worked our butts off on it! It’s a good record! Everybody got behind it, with no [ego] trips or anything. It’s just good music all the way through. And it was a pleasure to do it.”

The impromptu partnership would become the beating heart of some of Layla’s… most iconic guitar moments. On tracks like I Am Yours and Nobody Knows You, Allman’s landmark slide guitar work injected the record with elevated dynamics and melody.

Little Wing, Tell the Truth and Key to the Highway showed Allman and Clapton’s potent chemistry. He even played a starring role on Layla, twinning with Clapton for the opening iconic riff. Not bad for an off-the-cuff collaboration.

The pair continued their partnership after the Layla sessions, sharing the stage across a handful of Derek and the Dominos gigs. Tragically, before they got a chance to enter the studio again together, Allman died in a motorcycle accident less than a year later, in October 1971.

It made Layla & Other Assorted Love Songs their final, and only, record together.

But Allman was eternalized in the Slowhand repertoire, with his slide playing in particular stealing the spotlight on Layla. His work proved to be a fruitful source of inspiration for Clapton.

“It’s all in the wrists,” Allman said of his technique at the time. “Eric is coming along on his slide. He’s doing okay. He ain’t no Duane Allman of the slide guitar, but he's doing all right!”

Joe Bonamassa has looked back on the time he shared the stage with one of his blues guitar heroes, Albert Collins.

When he was just 11 years old, Bonamassa found himself tucked under the wing of blues virtuoso Danny Gatton. Just a year later, he was trading licks with Albert Collins on stage. It was an education.

For two years on the trot, the young blues starlet was invited to play at the New York Blues Festival in Hog Rose. Having impressed at Gatton’s side, he was rewarded with another enviable slot 12 months on.

“They convinced Albert Collins to let me sit in,” Bonamassa recalls on the No Cover Charge podcast. “He taught me the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned on stage.”

A revered Telecaster enthusiast, Collins’ cold, biting guitar tone earned him the nickname 'Iceman'. On stage in New York, he tested a young Bonamassa’s mettle.

“At the time, I worshiped all the Ice Pickin’ and Frostbite records,” Bonamassa explains. “So I got up on stage, and I had my little USA Strat with Lace Sensors, and my Sunn Beta Lead solid state 4x12 amp.

“It was prime time Albert Collins. He had a Tele, a [Fender] Quad Reverb, and about a 150-foot cable because he would go out into the crowd.”

It was a trial by fire for a 12-year-old Bonamassa. He had to earn his place on the stage. Collins wanted him there on merit. He put Bonamassa through his paces.

“He stung a note and pointed his Tele [like it was a gun] at me,” he develops. “I’m this little kid in a cowboy hat; it was his way of saying, ‘Welcome to the big leagues, kid. I don’t care how old you are, being up here requires a certain amount of intestinal fortitude, and I’m testing you to see if you have it. So I did my best Albert impression.”

Bonamassa lived to tell the tale and became a modern blues legend in his own right, inviting next-gen guitarists to his stages in the same vein as his early guest spot alongside Collins.

In related news, Bonamassa recently took a deep-dive into an Eric Clapton classic and explained why it’s essential learning for every blues soloist in his latest Guitar World column.

But the real news reverberating around camp Bonamassa right now is his shock pivot to digital amps, and he has now revealed the one key moment that changed his mind.

Bob Dylan has brought an end to his hectic US tour by recruiting one final guitarist to his ever-changing live lineup: blues legend Jimmie Vaughan.

Dylan finished his tour with one more guitar player rotation after a dizzying few months that have seen him flanked by five different foils.

The folk legend has been keeping the guitar community on its toes with his appointments. One of the world’s greatest jazz players, Julian Lage, was the first surprise addition. Lage quietly stepped into the shoes of outgoing Doug Lancio, who first joined in 2021.

Three weeks later, there were two more stealth recruits in Jad Tariq and Joel Patterson. Fans have speculated that Tariq was filling in for Lage, whose solo commitments prevented him from playing certain dates with Dylan.

Vaughan, brother of the late blues great Stevie Ray, has a deep-rooted relationship with Dylan. He supported him on a 2006 tour and has since shared the stage with him in 2024, replacing Lancio for nine songs in Austin, Texas.

Performing at the Ascend Federal Credit Union Amphitheater in Nashville, Tennessee on August 1, opening act Vaughan reemerged for three songs during Dylan’s set. He first played False Prophet, and a cover of Bo Diddley’s I Can Tell, before returning for the penultimate track, Goodbye Jimmy Reed.

According to Dylan superfan Henry Bernstein’s review of the evening, Vaughan “started off quiet but then got more and more brave with his solos.”

He adds that, during False Prophet, “Jimmie got very close to Bob, was playing to him and Bob was smiling, laughing and actually singing some pointed lyrics at Jimmie.”

This final twist in the tail doesn’t bring us any closer to understanding why Dylan is going through so many guitarists, but the 85-year-old is proving to be full of surprises nevertheless.

Interestingly, Lage had spoken to Guitar World just weeks before his first show with Dylan, but didn’t hint at what was on his horizon. He did, though, talk about his ‘pinch me’ moment of sharing a stage with Derek Trucks.

Dylan is back on the road in Europe in October, November, and December. Who knows who’ll be flanking him across the tour. Rest assured, Guitar World will be keeping a beady eye on proceedings.

Eric Johnson is a bona fide modern day guitar great, so every time he talks tone and technique, we listen.

In a new interview with Guitarist, the Stratocaster master offered some sage advice for players that feel “trapped in patterns”, and shared a valuable lesson in the quest to achieve total fretboard freedom.

“I think most guitar players, except maybe a few, are still addicted or somewhat trapped in patterns,” he reflects. “But I think the less you are, the better. We’re all trying to get out of that, to become more liquid, as it were, and just be able to just play melodically.”

For Johnson, the best way to break out of a rut and become a more fluid player is to learn the notes on the fingerboard off by heart. It’s not for the faint of heart, but it’s an exercise that will set you up for success.

“When I started playing guitar, I taught myself by sitting at the piano with the guitar in my hand and taking the notes and moving them over,” he remembers. “So what I had to do with this strange way of learning guitar was I had to learn all the notes on all the frets.

“I think that that helps – if you look at a string on a fret and you immediately know what note it is, you're not so bound by those patterns.

“Sometimes I do these classes, and one of the first things that I say is really paramount is to just sit down and to learn where, without thinking, you can look at any fret on your string and know what note it is.

“It is a daunting task, but it’s not undoable. It’s totally doable. And then once you get it, it’s like breathing. We don’t think about breathing, we just do it. And it really helps free you up, you know, and not be so stuck on the pattern thing like a time.”

Given Johnson’s voice on the guitar is defined by liquid-like melodicism and effortless phrasing, there’s a lot to take away from his guidance here. The ability to recall notes is a priceless ability that will make you both more responsive in improvisation, and more adept at connecting boxes across the neck – not that we’re thinking in patterns.

Like Johnson says, it's a daunting task, but fear not: we have a step-by-step deep dive into mastering the entire fretboard to help you.

And, for those who graduate from this particular lesson, Johnson is also an excellent case study in leveling up your soloing.

For more advanced tutorials, see GW’s lesson on how to create fluid streams of notes by combining economy picking with legato pentatonics, and Joe Bonamassa’s tips on connecting lead phrases like Eric Johnson.

Samantha Fish has played with a who's who of the blues world, but one especially memorable mentor has been bona fide blues legend, Buddy Guy.

Back in 2013, after a whole night driving across Canada to make it to Guy’s show on time, Fish was coaxed to the stage to jam with the guitar ace himself.

“I see this look on Buddy Guy’s face that’s like, ‘What’s this girl's name? I’ll put her on!’” she recalled in a 2019 interview with Blues Blast Magazine.

“That’s when Buddy called me up. I was so nervous. My recollection of it is terrible, ’cause I was so damn nervous. I do remember him saying, ‘When shit like that happens, I can play all night.’”

Since then, Fish has carried on Guy's mission of “keeping the blues alive,” even trading licks with him on stage as a special guest on multiple occasions.

Those experiences have presented plenty of valuable lessons for Fish, who revealed the most important ones she learned from Guy in a recent Guitar World interview.

“​​Well, Buddy Guy is, as far as guitar players go, one of the best conversationalists on the planet,” she says.

“What he does with his guitar, and when you're doing a back and forth with him, trading licks, he's fully immersed. For me, the best thing you can do for a guitar, as a guitarist, is try to make it sound like a human voice. Emote a voice out of it... and he just does that perfectly too.”

Fish notes that Guy “takes a lot of pauses,” and when he stops playing, the audience “just goes nuts”. It's all about finding the space, playing with emotion, and trying to squeeze every ounce of emotion out of each note.

“It’s amazing,” she raves. “People really do respond to it. He's just one of the best emoters there is.”

Fish will be taking part in Buddy Guy’s 90th birthday concert at New York’s Radio City Music Hall on May 1st. As part of a stellar lineup, she’ll be honoring his legacy and celebrating all things blues alongside Eric Clapton, John Mayer, Susan Tedeschi & Derek Trucks, Joe Bonamassa, and, of course, Guy himself.

Kramer has partnered with genre-blurring blues guitar hero Malina Moye for a historic signature guitar.

The arrival of Moye’s first signature electric guitar has been a long time coming. The underrated artist has melded blues, hip-hop, R&B, funk and soul across her four studio albums. Her 2023 record, Dirty, was voted one of the best guitar records of the year by GW readers.

With her flipped-southpaw style, Molina has channeled Jimi Hendrix, Albert King, Elizabeth Cotten, Eric Gales, and many other greats of the instrument.

Now, having played everything from Flying Vs to Stratocasters, Moye has turned to the Kramer ranks for a milestone model that cements her place in the history book as the brand’s first woman of color signature artist.

Moye’s signature builds off Kramer’s S-type Pacer Deluxe platform and is available in left and right-hand configurations. At its core, there’s an alder body and maple neck with 10” radius fingerboard, as well as a TUSQ nut, 2-point tremolo and gold hardware.

Since it’s been designed to cover all bases from sultry soul to rootsy rock, it features Moye’s preferred DiMarzio pickups – specifically, Virtual Vintage Blues, Area 7 and Super Distortion.

Finishing touches include a Splash Blue finish – with color-matched headstock – a tortoiseshell pickguard, locking tuners and Moye’s signature on the rear of the headstock. Oh, and the Moye inlay at the 12th fret is a very nice touch indeed.

“I really wanted to make sure it was perfect – a completely different type of Kramer,” Moye says of her new signature. “And you know what? I think we nailed something really hot.”

The Malina Moye Pacer Deluxe is available now for $1,299.

Visit Kramer for more.

Philip Sayce has earned a reputation that puts him at the top of the list of modern high-energy blues-rock guitarists. Operating entirely outside the major label machine, he’s built a loyal following through relentless touring and word of mouth.

The independent artist cut his teeth handling guitar duties on tour with artists like Jeff Healey and Melissa Etheridge – that’s where he mastered the art of live performance.

You can hear exactly where that journey has led on his recent live album, Scorched Earth: Volume 2 Live in LA / London. Recorded at London’s Garage and LA’s Baked Potato, it captures his power trio completely raw.

What made you want to pick up the guitar?

Growing up, my parents played The Beatles, The Stones, The Kinks and a lot of ’60s music. British music, world music and blues were always around; my dad loved blues.

I started guitar late because my brother and I were taking piano lessons and my parents had saved for a piano, so I felt guilty asking for a guitar. I was around 15 when I finally asked. I always wanted to play because that’s what was listening to in the house – huge Clapton solos and things like that.

Once I got a guitar, I went deep into learning how to play. I played constantly on a cheap Sears acoustic with brutally high action. This was around the time Stevie Ray Vaughan passed away, and his music hit me spiritually.

I felt that same pull from Albert Collins, B.B. King, Buddy Guy, Jeff Healey, Clapton, George Harrison and Jeff Beck. I remember my dad telling me how Stevie Ray was “true example of greatness.” He thought Stevie was the only guy that was as good as Clapton.

Did you have any formal training?

I’m mostly self-taught. I would sneak into clubs when I was underage and stand close to the stage, trying to understand how people were getting their sound and phrasing. I watched anyone who could play, tried to absorb something and then went home and figured it out.

Even if I only picked up on one little thing, I’d go home and work on it for hours. I also learned from tablature and books.

How did you first connect with Jeff Healey?

We met through the Toronto scene at a downtown club when I was around 18. An associate introduced us and Jeff asked me to jam. He played bass, I played guitar, and we did Robert Johnson and Willie Dixon material – the Cream versions. Afterwards he asked if I wanted to join his band. He was a hero to me, so I said yes immediately. I was so grateful for that opportunity.

So after high school, my friends went to college and I went on tour with Jeff. I call it the University of Jeff Healey – I watched, listened and absorbed everything. He gave me space to sing and solo, building my confidence. I also learned professionalism and how to deliver every night.

When did that chapter end?

After about four years, Jeff told me it was time to do my own thing. Around that time, producer Marti Frederiksen was working on a Jeff record in Toronto. He came to see me play and suggested I come to Los Angeles with him and write songs. My wife and I eventually moved there. It was scary, but I got some session work and later toured with Uncle Kracker when his song Drift Away was huge.

How did Melissa Etheridge come into the picture?

I met producer John Shanks at a guitar store while trying amps and we hit it off. Later he said Melissa needed a guitarist who could play and sing. I met her for lunch, then auditioned with Kenny Aronoff and Mark Browne. They reported back to Melissa and I got the gig. I was already a fan; I had played her songs in high school.

Did you have to adapt your style?

Not really – Melissa is roots-based, with strong rhythm and emotional delivery, so it came from the same place as blues. She was generous and let me be myself. Sometimes she’d say, “Play and stretch out!” which gives you confidence. Watching her connect with audiences was a lesson in communication.

What was that transition from clubs to arenas like?

There were things to learn. An arena doesn’t mean you get to play ten times louder. You really have to focus on monitors because you can be far from everyone on stage and feel some lag. You watch the band leader, learn stage presence and command the room. As a sideman you know it’s not your stage – your job is to support the artist.

Did you always know what direction you were headed in, or did you try different styles?

For the most part, it’s always been the blues-based rock I play now, although I sometimes move towards funk, rock or soul. I started singing out of necessity when my high school band lost its singer before a battle of the bands competition. But my favorite guitarists were also great singers, so that’s what I wanted to do.

How did you first get turned on to vintage Strats?

It was always a dream to own one because my heroes – Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Knopfler and Buddy Guy – played them. I kept hearing that ’62 and ’63 were the sweet spots. Big Daddy was a guitar I missed out on years ago, then a buddy saw it 10 or 15 years later and sent a picture. It was the same guitar, so I sold some gear and bought it.

What is it about your ’63 Stratocasters that makes them so special?

Fender hit a sweet spot with the neck shape, feel and response. Mine are from August and September ’63 and both feel right. The pickups are outstanding.

Big Daddy is the biggest, meanest Strat I’ve heard. Mother has ’58 pickups now, so it’s more airy and sparkly, but has that ’63 chunk. I’ve had them re-fretted several times with the tallest, widest wire I could find because so much of my playing is bending.

Why do you think modern guitars don’t have the tone and feel of vintage guitars?

I don’t think modern builders are getting it wrong or missing anything. The wood on a vintage guitar that’s 60-plus years old is dry and settled. When those guitars were made, that wood might have already been 100 years old. You can get really close now but there’s maybe that last five or 10 per cent where it comes down to the resonance and the age of the wood.

The pickups make a huge difference, too. The pickups in Mother are from ’58 so slightly underwound, and they sound great. We did a project with Seymour Duncan, recreating the Mother pickups – it was fascinating getting into the details of what made them sound that way. The team did a fabulous job and the Duncan Mother pickups sound fantastic.

How does your PRS Silver Sky fit in with your vintage Strats?

It has its own lane so it’s not competing with the ’63s. It’s comfortable, stays in tune and goes where you want it to go. Vintage guitars are like muscle cars. The Silver Sky is like a modern performance car. It handles beautifully and doesn’t fight you.

Do you play differently depending on the guitar?

Not in a big way. It’s about what the guitar gives back. Once the old guitars are dialed in by a good luthier, they feel like old jeans or an old baseball glove. The Silver Sky is comfortable too; I like warming up with it.

When did you start seriously exploring tone beyond just guitars?

Playing beside Jeff forced it because his Marshalls sounded huge and I needed something that could keep up. I contacted Cesar Diaz, who worked on Stevie Ray Vaughan’s amps, and sent him a late ’60s Fender Dual Showman. It came back with unbelievable punch, sustain and clarity.

Later I brought him a Super Reverb and Bassman. I got to spend time in his shop while he built some pedals for me. It was very hands-on – I would play, give him feedback and he’d mess with the amp. He dialed in my Super Reverb in about 20 minutes!

He was amazing. We worked on getting my guitars and Fuzz Face to interact with the amp the right way. Cesar approached amps the way a tailor fits a suit. Watching him work was like seeing magic happen.

Did that experience also influence your choice of speakers?

Absolutely. Cesar turned me on to Electro Voice speakers, and I used EVM 12Ls in touring cabinets with Jeff, and later Melissa, because they were strong and reliable. Once you feel a 4x12 with EVs it’s hard to go back.

For the past 15 years I’ve worked with Tommy Cougar in Sweden, who studied Cesar and Dumble. He’s incredible – in my opinion, the best living amp guy in the world right now. He also turned me on to JBLs for my Super Reverb.

Did that experience shift how you think about tone?

Yeah, it taught me that tone is really about response. The amp has to react to your hands. If you play softly it opens up, and when you dig in it pushes back. When that relationship works, you stop fighting the instrument and start communicating through it.

How did you start working with Alexander Dumble?

Producers Dave Cobb and John Shanks introduced us. I had already used some Dumble amps on sessions, so I knew his work. When I went for a visit, he was warm, generous and not as mysterious as people imagine.

We played through several amps at his house, including an early Steel String Singer. I also left him a Fuzz Face to work on. It took months to get it back, but he didn’t charge me and it sounded fantastic.

Was there something about the Dumble amps that really stood out to you?

Each amp was built for a specific player; they weren’t interchangeable. The feeling was like putting on glasses and suddenly seeing clearly. Notes jumped out in three dimensions, with a stickiness that gave back what your fingers put in. It inspired you to play differently because the detail and connection were right there.

Out of all your records, is there one that you feel was a turning point for you?

Each record is a snapshot of where I was personally, so it’s hard to choose. But Peace Machine from 2005 was a turning point – it was raw, unfiltered and high energy. I called up some musicians that I loved working and recorded it mostly live in just a few days.

What’s most important to you in your music today?

Connection – like when you meet someone and feel like you know them right away. I feel most connected to the kind of music that inspired me when I first started out; music that’s honest, truthful and brings people together. It’s really about being authentic and sharing what’s in your heart.

• Scorched Earth: Volume 2 is out now.

Among all the great blues guitarists, Buddy Guy holds the crown as the most expressive when it comes to playing solos with rhythmic variety. In particular, he’s got an uncanny knack of drifting away from the band’s time, particularly in a slow blues, where there’s more space to play with. Clipped notes, sustained vibrato notes, quick-fire note bursts, accelerating repetitive licks and moments of silence: these and more have become his beloved rhythmic trademarks for blues soloing.

One of my favorite eras of Buddy’s is the mid-to-late ’60s, and this encompasses albums such as I Left My Blues in San Francisco (1967), and A Man and the Blues (1968), as well as his incredible work with Junior Wells. There’s something special about this period, where his playing was cleaner, and yet more raw-sounding. He was considerably ahead of his time.

And don't forget his renowned tone: neck and middle pickups on a Strat (legend has it that he originally taped his three-way selector to get the sound). I’ve gone for this pickup position in all the examples, with some mild breakup on the amp. He has also used neck and (especially) bridge positions, so feel free to experiment.

All of the examples are in C# major. This is perhaps an unusual key for guitar players but one that Buddy has enjoyed playing in over the years. The benefit of this key is when you’re using minor pentatonic shapes 1 and 2, you're in the middle of the fretboard, so bending and vibrato is easier. But it’s rhythm that we’re really going to dig into, so let’s get into it!

Match My Sound: play-along enhancements

For this lesson, we've partnered with MatchMySound to offer the ability to record yourself and see how close you are. MatchMySound is a great tool to help track your progress.

Click on the word 'options' (lower left, below the tab/notation) to select from 'demo audio track' (just guitar), 'backing track' (just the backing), 'full audio' (backing and real guitar audio) and 'metronome' (just a click to play along to).

Below that, select 'options' for how you can record your performance.

At the upper right, the magnifying glass images let you alter the playback speed for learning and pushing your playing onwards.

Follow the cursor to keep up with the tab/notation accurately on screen.

Lastly, to view the music better by filling your desktop/tablet/phone screen, click on the square brackets at the top right.

Buddy Guy rhythmic examples

Example 1a - On the grid time feel

Before you explore playing around with time or playing ‘off grid’, it's important to be able to play on the grid, showing you can synchronise with the band. In a 12/8 blues groove, most players gravitate to underlying groups of three (played on the hi-hat on the backing).

In this example, this is evident but also there are fast pull-offs that come from a smaller 12-note grid. Even though you’re playing with different rhythmic groups here, notice that almost every line begins on one of the strong beats.

Example 1b - Shifting the rhythm

Buddy Guy is about vibe and spontaneity rather than precision. This extends to some of his string bending as well as his timing. Here you're shifting some of the lines to either side of the strong beats as this will make your phrasing sound less predictable. Experiment with the speed and placement of the faster pull-offs.

With repeating licks like this, it’s worth making it sound more conversational and expressive, as opposed to being completely uniform.

Example 2a - On the grid time feel

One of Buddy’s trademark ideas is using pedal note bluesy double-stops. He does this with thumb and first finger (or you could use hybrid picking as I’ve done in the video), which means you can easily achieve wide intervals that jump strings.

On this first ‘on the grid’ version, view the whole phrase as a classic blues call and response line.

Example 2b - Off the grid time feel

Here you're letting go of the grid. The ‘dragged’ sound should feel a little lazy in the picking hand as this will give you a behind the beat feel. The second half of this line includes a ‘4 over 3’ grouping that’s common in slow 12/8 blues.

Don't overthink this, as aiming for precision can often ruin the effect. Just as with harmony, you can create considerable tension with rhythms like this, with a feel good release when you hit the final note.

Example 3a - On the grid time feel

Buddy loves to milk simple blues phrases over time (and often over an entire 12-bar solo). Here you’ll start off with a typical pentatonic lick that’s grouped as six notes per beat.

As before, the bends can be loose in terms of tuning (anything from a ¼ note to a ½ note bend will sound good). The first finger bend is a Buddy Guy trademark but it can be tricky: explore bending towards your face rather than towards the floor, as it can feel easier to do.

Example 3b - Elastic/bungee time feel

The notation can be a little bit daunting here but all you’re going for is a “start slow and soft, then gradually get faster and louder” vibe. As with the previous example, the release of tension will be at some future point – ideally when the chord changes.

Again, it’s not about precision. You can put the brakes on if you feel yourself going too fast, but if you end the line too early or late it doesn’t really matter. For added expression, try picking close to the bridge for a spikier sound and vary the dynamics from whisper quiet to loud.

Example 4 - Putting it all together

In this longer 12-bar solo all of the previous ideas are put together so you can see the examples are interchangeable over different parts of the progression. There are also some extra Buddy-isms, including the ‘catch bends’ in bar 2.

Normally, the fretting fingers push a lower string out of the way during a bend up, but here you can allow the fingers to be slightly flatter to push onto the second string. It’s got a glorious out of tune sound that’s worth getting into your playing (you can also hear where the great SRV got this from).

This line resolves in bar 3 with the second finger bending down from F# to E# for a sus4 to major 3rd sound that Buddy was fond of using. You're also being more explicit with the harmonic change to the V chord (G#7) during the turnaround by playing notes from G# minor blues, rather than C# (this is another trick that SRV loved to use).

Buddy Guy in action

Damn Right, I've Got The Blues

Here are two live performances by Buddy Guy of one of his most famous songs, Damn Right, I've Got the Blues. The first is from 1994 and he's in full showman mode, bursting with enthusiasm and sporting a rich neck pickup overdriven amp tone. His searing string bends, on-grid/off-grid rhythmic phrasing and shredding speed bursts are nothing short of stunning.

The second performance is from 2019 and while he's slightly less animated here, his soloing displays gorgeous string bends and expressive vibrato. His rhythmic phrasing is masterful as he weaves around the band's feel with sustained notes and dragging lead licks.

Pete Townshend is largely credited as one of the first guitarists ever to smash a guitar on stage. However, Jimi Hendrix managed to build quite a reputation for the almost ritualistic way he destroyed instruments – even going as far as to set them on fire.

Eric Barrett, who served as Hendrix's roadie during his heyday, was just 21 when he found himself on the frontline of the guitarist's stagecraft.

“During the last number, Jimi took all of his frustrations out on the equipment,” he writes in an excerpt from his upcoming memoir, Experienced: On the Road with Jimi Hendrix and Beyond – published by The Sunday Times – as he looks back on his first run of shows with Hendrix in 1968.

“He beat the hell out of the amplifiers and poked bloody great holes in the speakers with the neck of his guitar. No wonder the last roadie took a bucketload of acid and fucked off mid-tour.”

While Barrett can’t clearly remember whether Hendrix “set fire to anything” during that first short tour of Italy and Switzerland, he confirms the legend did go out of his way to smash “plenty of guitars and amps.”

In typical rockstar fashion, “He’d never warn me before a performance. I don’t think he knew himself until it came time for the encore.”

As a responsible roadie, Barrett tried his best to save a couple of Jimi’s guitars from this fate.

“Before he went on stage, I’d always point out an old guitar, or one I’d rebuilt, and say, ‘Jimi, if you’re gonna smash a guitar tonight, please use that one,’” he continues.

“Sometimes he’d listen to me, other nights he didn’t. I remember one really beautiful Fender Stratocaster; I watched in horror as he destroyed it during the encore in Bologna.”

Backstage after the show, Barrett was left wondering why Hendrix would deliberately smash perfectly good guitars.

Hendrix’s reply? “‘Eric, I just couldn’t get any more out of it, man. I squeezed every note and every sound that guitar was ever going to give me. It had nothing left to give.’”

In a 1968 interview with reporter Jay Ruby, later published in the November 1991 edition of Guitar World, Hendrix reflected on his guitar-smashing antics, giving more insight into why he did it.

“It was just because we felt like it,” he said. “It might have been because we had some personal problems.

“You feel very frustrated, and the music gets louder and louder. You start thinking about different things, and all of a sudden, crash, bang. Eventually it goes up in smoke.”

By that point, Hendrix had already set fire to his guitar at London's Finsbury Park Astoria in 1967. He famously repeated the stunt at the Monterey Pop Festival that same year, inspiring generations of guitarists, including Kurt Cobain, Matt Bellamy and Phoebe Bridgers.

French guitarist, singer and band leader Laura Cox began her career by posting videos of herself playing classic rock guitar solos on YouTube around 18 years ago, and she was amazed when the views and likes began rising to astronomical levels.

Before too long, she’d formed a band, walked out on stage and entered a professional recording studio for the first time to make her debut album, 2017’s Hard Blues Shot. Since then, she’s released another three, including the latest, Trouble Coming, from last year.

We spoke to Laura during her UK tour in May this year and were eager to hear about how she went from playing in front of a camera at home to taking centre stage as a headline act.

Tell us about how you began your career online.

I was around 15 when I started playing the guitar. Then, two or three years afterwards, I was really into watching YouTubers playing covers of classic rock solos, and it was really motivating for me. I thought, “Okay, I’m gonna do the same. I’m gonna post and maybe get some feedback.” I don’t know, I thought it would be fun. I was also a bit introverted, so for me it was easy to do this – easier than form a band and play on stage. So I started uploading videos on YouTube back in 2008, I think.

At the time there weren’t a lot of women doing this – playing rock – and that’s why it kind of worked. I didn’t have any plans or strategies to get followers or views or anything. I did this on YouTube for years, but I kind of got stuck into this pattern, you know?

I wish I could have started the band earlier because I think I spent maybe eight years on YouTube and I never played with real people. So I think I was missing something, like just jamming and playing with people, sharing music together.

Comments on YouTube guitar videos can be notoriously vicious. How was your experience?

A lot of the comments were really positive, really encouraging and motivating. But there was also a few criticising my looks, or almost sexual harassment. But, honestly, for me, it was the internet, it was not real life. I didn’t care and I was really detached from it.

And I think that’s a good way to see things because if you start to take every comment really seriously and it gets into your head, it’s not good. YouTube for me was for fun, and sometimes I checked the comments and if they were good, that’s good, and if they were bad, I’m gonna sleep tonight and it’s gonna be okay.

Who were your influences when you started playing?

When I started playing the guitar, I was really inspired by Slash, Mark Knopfler and Joe Bonamassa – these were my three guitar heroes – and I spent hours and hours working on their solos, and they kept me motivated.

They don’t know the impact they had on me, but they made me the player I am now, for sure. And I have to say that now I’m less into guitar-hero music, and I’m more into songwriting music like in more modern bands, I would say, but I won’t forget that they made me who I am now. I’m really grateful for that.

When did you put your band together?

It was a bit more than 10 years ago, around 2014, and thanks to YouTube, this is what helped the project start: we found a label and booker around 2016 and my first album was released in 2017 [Hard Blues Shot as the Laura Cox Band], and I think YouTube really helped with this side of things.

What was it like going into the studio for the first time to record an album?

Horrible! [Laughs] It was a nightmare. Because my only experience of music was playing guitar in my room in front of a webcam where I was alone, so I could re-record and re-record. But playing in the studio, recording an album with a band and engineers and every second is costing me money, I was really stressed.

We had a lot of technical difficulties, the gear was falling apart and nothing was working. I was kind of going into depression after the first studio recording because we couldn’t see the end.

Every day we were thinking, “Okay, we’re late on the schedule, we still have to record this and this,” and it was never ending. But with the years and the albums coming out it’s getting better and better, and with my latest album I didn’t record it this way in the studio, I recorded a lot at home, and it felt way more comfortable.

You described yourself as a bit of an introvert. What was it like actually getting out and playing in front of people?

It was a fun experience. What was weird is that I waited. I had been playing guitar for eight years before being on stage for the first time.

Usually you play guitar, you start a band, and then you play at your high school parties with your band when you’ve just picked up the guitar and you barely know how to play. But, for me, it was different because I had already gathered a few million views before going on stage, so I had this pressure…

I mean, all my first experiences in music were stressful, but now I’m trying to be less stressed about everything. At the first concert, I remember we played all the songs very fast – I just wanted the show to be done, you know?

Let’s talk about your live gear. You’ve recently moved from playing a Les Paul to an SG – why was that?

This guitar was a surprise for me because I’ve always been a Les Paul girl since I started playing the guitar. I was a big fan of Slash, he got me into playing Les Pauls and I’ve been playing one all my life, basically until two years ago when Gibson told me, “We have a new SG coming out. Maybe we can send it to you, just to try,” you know?

At the beginning, I thought, “Okay, I don’t need this, I don’t need to try it. I already have what I need.” But then I told them, “Yeah, why not?” So I got my hands on this guitar and it’s crazy how easy it is to play an SG compared with a Les Paul.

Every time I was practising in my living room, when I grabbed the guitar, I took the SG because it’s lighter and it felt good in my hands. So I thought, “Okay, maybe I should use it for a gig, just to check,” and then I didn’t want to give it back to Gibson! So I told them, “I’m gonna buy it. I’ll keep it.”

What’s the main difference between the two models, would you say?

You have to fight against the Les Paul, I think, to play it. But with the SG everything feels really fluid, really easy and natural and comfortable, and you don’t have to fight it. So I just went for the easiest way, and once you play an SG on stage, it’s hard to go back to the Les Paul. So right now, what I’m doing is switching between the SG and Les Paul Juniors on stage because [the Juniors] are the lighter version of the Les Paul.

Now I think I’ve found what I was looking for. So [the SG] has been my main guitar for two years now and the neck feels really perfect. It’s not too narrow, not too wide; it just feels good and it lets you play naturally.

What modifications have you made?

I changed the pickups. Originally, it had ’61 Burstbuckers, which I swapped for Gibson ’57 Classic pickups. But I’m still not really satisfied, so maybe I’m gonna switch back. But I really wanted the double white pickups, you know? So I’m gonna check what I can find, but I love the look with the white pickups.

I changed the pickguard, too, because it was black originally, and I changed the pots and the knobs. It’s mostly for the looks. I’m still looking for a few things, but I feel really, really good playing this guitar on stage, so I think it’s going to stay my main guitar for the next few years.

What about the Firebird?

I bought this one years ago, I believe it’s a Firebird [V] from 2013. It’s all stock, from what I know. I [haven’t] changed anything because it sounds good like this.

I wanted a guitar that was a bit different from my guitars with humbuckers, so I thought, “Okay, the mini-humbuckers can bring something else to my tone, and to my playing, and to the way I’m writing songs,” and it sounds good with a lot of things I do. It feels really fun to play live with this weird shape. It’s always something that people who don’t play guitar notice instantly.

After the shows it’s always, “Oh that guitar looks so cool!’ So, yeah, I love this one. At some point I almost thought I would sell it. And then some people told me, “Don’t do it!” and they were right because I just took it out of the storage again and now I won’t let it go.

You’re a Marshall amps endorsee, so what sort of amps do you use live?

Live, I have two heads, one main and one spare, but they’re the Studio Vintage 20. They’re really compact but really loud. I used to have the matching cabs, the 2x12 cabs, but I recently changed to a 4x12, a 1960AX cab. The head is only 20 watts, so I was happy to get a bigger cab to have a bit more headroom and fullness to the sound.

Are you looking at recording another album this year?

Yeah, definitely. I have nothing for now, but the next album should be recorded, hopefully, before the end of the year. After the UK tour, I’m gonna lock myself in my room and try to get some ideas because

I don’t want to wait too long between the last album and the next one. I really want to keep this inspiring dynamic. I’m really motivated to release new stuff.

• Trouble Coming is available now via earMUSIC.
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

Back in the mid-1960s, Gibson’s cherry sunburst Les Paul Standard had been discontinued five years previously. But some devotees of blues guitar, such as a young Eric Clapton, knew that, if you could find one, the pre-SG Les Paul was an instrument to be reckoned with. The problem was finding one.

A post-war embargo on American luxury goods and musical instruments had ended only a few years previously, in June of 1959, and US guitars, such as Strats and Les Pauls, were rare birds and genuine examples coming up for sale were hunted down diligently by London’s leading guitarists.

So when Eric’s 1959 Les Paul Standard he used on John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers with Eric Clapton – aka ‘Beano’ – was stolen from a church hall in Brondesbury, London, where he was beginning rehearsals with Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker for their nascent supergroup Cream, Eric needed to get his hands on a replacement in a hurry and there were very few to be had.

In the end, Eric turned to another young pro on the London scene, Andy Summers, and implored him to sell his 1960 Standard.

Despite Summers’ initial reluctance, money – to the princely tune of £300 – soon changed hands and Clapton had the guitar he needed to press on with recording Fresh Cream, the debut album for a group that would become every bit as influential as Clapton’s era-defining work with John Mayall.

Beano’s replacement wasn’t perfect, however. Not that it mattered much at the time, but it featured a newer style of sunburst that Gibson had debuted in 1960 to avoid fading red tints in the finish – a process that customers didn’t like at the time, but which has since passed into ’Burst lore – and this newer finish had a gaudier ‘tomato soup’ tone to it.

Eric’s new Lester also had a malfunctioning bridge pickup that would need sorting out, too. But in the cut and thrust of the 1966 music scene none of that mattered much – it could all be fixed or overlooked – because the sound that guitar made was tarnishless gold.

By turns biting and mellifluous, the voice of that guitar is all over Cream’s debut album, recorded at London’s Rayrik and Ryemuse studios and released in the UK on 9 December 1966, which featured tracks that shaped what blues could be in a new, free-thinking era of psychedelic rock. Tracks such as Spoonful, I’m So Glad and the single I Feel Free, which appeared on Atco’s 1967 US release of the album.

But though the guitar’s story as a famous instrument began in London, it ended – or rather went dark – across the Atlantic in New York, where Clapton and Cream soon ended up, initially playing dates at the RKO Theater in March of 1967, before returning to record their follow-up album, Disraeli Gears, in May of that year.

Somewhere in among these New York trips, Clapton’s Les Paul suffered what is now believed to be the second of two serious neck breaks and he took it to Dan Armstrong’s repair shop, where it was given a ‘creative’ headstock replacement that was crafted to please the young guitarist but prompted him to dump the guitar at the shop after refusing to pay the bill.

And there, after changing hands a few times, the guitar came to rest – in New York, in a private collection, kept out of sight through all the years that saw original sunburst Les Pauls change from being somewhat obscure, niche collector’s items to icons of mid-20th century guitar making.

There it stayed, widely speculated about but seen only in scarce photographs. Until today. Now, Matthieu Lucas of Matt’s Guitar Shop in Paris has acquired the guitar, which has sometimes been dubbed the ‘Summersburst’, and wants to share it with the world while it remains in his keeping. We join Matt to pick up the story…

How did this guitar come into Clapton’s hands originally? And what was Andy Summers’ connection to it?

So this guitar was bought by Andy Summers originally, way before he went into The Police, in 1964, to the best of my knowledge, at Rose Morris in London. At the time, there were only about two Les Pauls available in London – or very few.

We all know that Keith Richards was already playing one [in The Rolling Stones], and I think his was the very first sunburst Les Paul to appear on [British] TV, so he was playing his. But in ’64, it was not easy to get one in London.

During my research, I’ve seen Andy talking about how he got the guitar at Rose Morris and Clapton was playing with John Mayall already at the time, and then Clapton saw this beautiful Les Paul that Andy had in the case, and he said, "Wow. Where did you get that?” Andy told him that he bought the guitar at Rose Morris’s shop, and so Clapton went right away and bought the guitar we all know as ‘Beano’.

Then Andy was not really using the guitar that much and, in the meantime, as we all know Eric’s ‘Beano’ ’Burst got stolen – and we are still wondering where that guitar is. So Clapton kept calling Andy Summers and reportedly he said something along the lines of, “You need to sell me your guitar. I’m going to record Fresh Cream, I need a Les Paul, that’s the sound I want.”

Andy initially said no because he wanted to keep the guitar for himself, but, apparently, Clapton [persevered] and pressed him to sell him the guitar and, in the end, Andy accepted. I think he charged him £300.

An interesting point to draw attention to is that when Andy sold the guitar to Eric, the bridge pickup didn’t work properly and Andy was already using a Tele at the time, which he still has today. So he sold him the guitar, and after that Cream were rehearsing in London and recorded Fresh Cream.

The headstock on the guitar today is very clearly non-original – what’s the backstory of the neck on this guitar and how did it end up with this mandolin-style headstock?

In my opinion, Clapton broke the headstock of the guitar twice. The first time was very early on after he bought the guitar from Andy Summers. I can’t tell where and when, but when you really search the archives, in the very early pictures of Clapton with that almost ‘bowl’ haircut, you can already see that the headstock has been badly repaired and it has already been broken off, in a major way, a first time.

Apparently, what happened – although of this we can’t be sure – is that the repair [of the first break] was so bad that when the guitar was dropped a second time Clapton went to Dan Armstrong’s shop in New York City to have the guitar fixed properly.

Dan Armstrong was there and a then-young luthier called Matt Umanov, who checked the guitar, said, “Well, it’s not possible to fix the [original] headstock on that guitar because that’s a really, really bad break that the guitar just had,” so they offered to replace the headstock for Clapton.

And that’s where Matt Umanov got very innovative with the way he replaced the headstock of the guitar. He removed the original headstock and we don’t know where it went.

But then he grafted a new headstock on, keeping the original binding and fingerboard intact, and what he did was create the [new-built] replacement in the shape of the headstock from an F-5 mandolin, which made the guitar unique because nobody ever did that again on a Les Paul, to my knowledge.

[He] put Eric Clapton’s name, with a mother-of-pearl inlay on the headstock, too, plus a [representation of someone’s] face. It’s unclear if it’s a woman or if it’s Eric Clapton’s face that Matt Umanov put on that guitar with mother-of-pearl inlay.

What happened next?

From what I can tell, Eric Clapton was very unhappy with the repair, and that way he didn’t pay for the repair, but he just said words to the effect that, ‘No, no, I don’t need the guitar any more anyway, I’m starting to use the ES and the SG,’ because he was already searching for another kind of sound. So the guitar just stayed in [Greenwich] Village of New York City, at Dan Armstrong’s shop.

Then the guitar went to a guy called Adrian Barber, who was the guitar player for a Liverpool band called the Big Three at the time. After he quit the band, he stayed in Germany and he became a sound engineer. When he passed away, the guitar went [back] to New York with his son, who was living there. He didn’t really want the guitar, so he called somebody named Chris Such, who had a small guitar shop in the [East] Village called Mojo Guitar.

Chris’s place was a little neighbourhood guitar shop, so he didn’t have the money to buy a sunburst Les Paul at the time, so that’s how he called [collector] Perry Margouleff to offer him the guitar, and Perry met the guy and just gave him money, and then owned the guitar since 1986.

Nobody saw that guitar for many years because, first of all, Perry was a curator for the largest guitar collection ever – and this was part of his private stash – but mainly because Perry was very attached to 100 per cent original ’Bursts, at the time, and he didn’t care so much about the fact it had been Clapton’s guitar. And, in any case, the market for star-owned guitars didn’t really exist back then.

It was kept in the collection for years and, eventually, when I first met Perry 13 years ago, he showed me a lot of those guitars, and I was very blessed that he kind of put me under his wing – he was always showing me and teaching me about [vintage] guitars, especially this one.

Back then, you know, I was never in a position even to imagine that I was eventually getting this guitar 12 years later, but that’s what happened. And we started talking, I would say, around October last year. It took a bit of time, but we arranged a deal a few weeks ago and then I went to New York City and picked up the guitar myself.

Tell us about the pickups. The bridge humbucker isn’t the Patent Applied For humbucker it left the factory with. So what’s the story behind that?

Well, what’s interesting is that when you look at the picture of [this guitar] in The Beauty Of The ’Burst book [Yasuhiko Iwanade]…

We all know that picture of Perry with the ’Burst wall behind him – there’s [famous ‘named’ ’Bursts] Red Eye, there’s the Stanley ’Burst, the red cherry [finish] ’59 Les Paul, all of those, and there is also Eric Clapton’s guitar on there and you can recognise the guitar immediately from the mandolin headstock, of course.

But what’s interesting is that this guitar – on that picture – has a zebra bridge pickup, which, of course, it doesn’t have today. That pickup is long gone and Perry doesn’t have any idea where it went.

But what Perry is sure about is the Patent Number pickup – because the pickup now in the bridge is one of those, a mid-’60s Gibson pickup, which is good news for the guitar because Perry remembers that this pickup was in the case of the guitar, in the case pocket.

And that matches Clapton playing this guitar with the double-black pickup in the bridge. So Perry said, “Okay, well, we have this pickup in the case and I think that’s the pickup that belongs to the guitar, I’m going to put it back, so it matches really what Clapton was playing at the time.”

Because if Perry had restored the guitar [to a generic period-correct spec] back then, based on his meticulous restoration work, he would just have put an original Patent Applied For [pickup in the bridge] that he had back then from his stash – he would never have put the Patent Number pickup in the bridge position [but for the Clapton connection].

The [otherwise anomalous] Patent Number pickup makes total sense because when you read Andy Summers’ biography, and the interviews that Andy gave on that guitar, that’s one of the reasons why he sold the guitar to Eric in ’65 or early ’66 – because the bridge pickup didn’t work on that guitar.

My guess is that Clapton obtained a pickup on Denmark Street – a Gibson pickup – from 1965 or early ’66, which was a Patent Number humbucker, and he put the pickup in the bridge position of the guitar and then went to record Fresh Cream with that pickup configuration because the neck pickup on that guitar is the original Patent Applied For pickup.

We checked the solder joints on the parts, and that guitar for sure has all-original solder, except for the volume pot in the bridge position – and that’s the only major electronic change that’s on the guitar. Back then, nobody cared about original [Patent Applied For pickups] – they were all players [not collectors], and so my guess is that he just put a working pickup in the bridge position and that was it, you know?

So that’s the journey of this guitar, and that’s interesting because I knew about it for years; I couldn’t tell anyone about it because that’s not how Perry is working – he wants his guitars to be top secret, if I can say.

But then I decided to make it public for several reasons because my theory is that guitars like this should be played, should be shared with people, and I think it’s not even belonging to me, or whoever is going to buy the guitar – it’s belonging to, I would almost say, humanity because that guitar is a major piece of the ’60s and the British music and a major piece of guitar history, so my feeling is that all those guitars need to be shared and played.

So that’s why at some point, I said to Perry, “I want to buy this piece, but in my opinion it’s just a shame that it stays off the internet because I think it’s a different time now and everybody should know what happened to this guitar,” because nobody knew where it was, basically.

Speaking of the guitar just as an instrument in its own right, what’s it like from a player’s perspective?

I have had the chance to play ‘The Fool’ SG, I’ve played Eric’s 335 and – with the exception of the Firebird – I’ve played a lot of instruments that he played in the Cream era. And it’s funny because all of them [have notably slim necks], except the 335, which has more like a ’64 neck but still a very thin neck.

So I think Clapton really loved a very thin neck on guitars, you know? This guitar is quite the same: it has one of the thinnest necks on a ’60 I’ve ever played.

I would say it’s a very late ’60, too, probably one of the last 1960 [Les Paul Standards] ever made because of that ‘tomato soup’ finish and other details. It’s not a lightweight guitar, but the neck is, as I say, super thin and, surprisingly, somebody did refret it at some point with huge frets – it would make sense if that was in the ’80s as they were all refretted with big frets back then…

But yeah, the neck is super-thin. I think maybe they shaved the neck a bit when they put that new mandolin headstock on [during the repair process by Matt Umanov] and a new finish on the neck – and I would say there is a very old overspray on the guitar, too.

Structurally speaking, it’s super-easy to play and super-fast because of that thin neck. I would say the neck pickup is one of the creamiest neck pickups that I’ve tried. It’s not like a woody sound, it’s very creamy, very dense. It makes total sense when you put the guitar into a Marshall and you put the tone at zero – you get exactly the Spoonful sound.

Also, the fact that on the bridge position you have a Patent Number makes total sense because it’s really brighter in those mid-’60s Gibson pickups. When you play the guitar, you really hear the Fresh Cream sound, which is very particular.

I would say this pickup had [originally come] from an SG – it’s so bright and it’s such a rock ’n’ roll-sounding guitar. And in the middle position, surprisingly, the tone is almost out of phase as well. Or rather, not out of phase but it’s almost there – it’s really close to that sound. When you play the guitar, it’s incredible because that’s the record, you know? It already sounds like the record.

• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

In the late 1960s, when both Jimi Hendrix and Eric Clapton were leading the charge in blues rock music, the two change-makers were pitted against one another in a fierce battle for ultimate guitar god status.

It was, in theory, an easy comparison to make. Both guitarists were taking the electric guitar to an all-new level.

Clapton had already been anointed ‘god’ by the press, but Hendrix’s arrival in London in ’66 exacerbated the six-string arms race. Within months, he left his contemporaries quaking in their boots – Jeff Beck, Pete Townshend, you name it. Britain’s biggest players knew they had met their match.

Clapton was included. After Hendrix crashed a Cream gig and famously stunned Slowhand and his audience with an impromptu stage appearance, he knew things would never be the same again.

It was one of guitar’s most intense – yet respectful – rivalries, one which found fans and the press alike comparing the two guitarist’s playing styles.

This didn’t sit right with Hendrix. As he once explained during an interview with Jazz & Pop Magazine in 1968, it was a forced rivalry he didn’t really understand. In his mind, they were two completely different players.

“That’s one thing I don’t like,” Hendrix had said at the height of the pair’s perceived rivalry. “Sometimes the notes might sound like [we’re alike], but it’s a completely different scene between those notes.

“First they do that [compare him to Clapton], and then they expect me to play blues exclusively. We just say we don’t want to play blues all the time – we just don’t feel like it all the time. You see, there are other things we can play too, nice songs or different things.”

Clearly, Hendrix didn’t think of himself and Clapton as similar players, but that’s not to say we didn’t rate his ‘rival’. After that Cream gig, the pair remained friends, and Hendrix never held back in dishing out praise.

“But as far as the blues scene goes, some of the things that Albert King and Eric Clapton do are very good,” he continued in his Jazz & Pop interview, which was re-published in the November 1991 issue of Guitar World.

“I don't have any favorites. It's very hard because there are so many different styles, and it's so bad to put everybody in the same bag. I like to listen to anybody, so long as they don't bore me. I tend towards the blues as far as guitar players are concerned.”

The ‘competition’ was healthy, and both players left a lasting impact on one another. Clapton once credited Hendrix with influencing his decision to turn to the Stratocaster.

Slowhand even purchased a rare left-handed Strat as a gift for Hendrix in 1970. As fate would have it, he never got the chance to give it to the American guitarist, who died the night it was going to be presented.

Hendrix and Clapton never let the forced rivalry get between them. Instead, it helped them both hit new heights.

Few recordings have achieved the mythical status of the 15-minute Voodoo Child jam from the Jimi Hendrix Experience’s Electric Ladyland.

Cut in the early hours of May 2nd, 1968, with an all-star cast that included Steve Winwood and Jefferson Airplane bassist Jack Casady, the sprawling blues workout was the product of a spontaneous late-night studio session at New York City’s Record Plant Studios.

For Casady, the invitation came after years of crossing paths with Hendrix on the late-‘60s touring circuit, where a friendship with drummer Mitch Mitchell led to one of rock's most celebrated recordings.

“In the late ‘60s Bill Graham was managing us, and we would suggest other artists to him for our shows,” explained Casady in the October ’93 issue of Bass Player. “Jimi was one of them.

“The first concert we did together was Monterey Pop, and we became friends. In fact, Mitch Mitchell and I really hit it off, both musically and personally.

“Later, when Jimi was recording Electric Ladyland, we came through New York, and a bunch of musicians, including Steve Winwood, went down to see him.

“Around 4am, Jimi decided we should do some playing – fortunately, I had my Guild with me. He broke out a blues tune that we ran through three or four times and then recorded; it ended up on the album as the long version of Voodoo Child.

“I'm also on a couple of tracks from the Live at Winterland tapes that Rykodisc later released.”

Unlike his more melodic work with Jefferson Airplane, here Casady locks tightly with drummer Mitch Mitchell, letting Hendrix and Winwood take the spotlight.

His bass tone is unmistakably late-‘60s – rich in low-mids, lightly overdriven, and full of the kind of natural bloom that comes from a cranked amp in a live studio environment.

“After hearing bands like Cream and the Jimi Hendrix Experience, I became really interested in overdriving my amp. I'd been using the semi-hollow Guild Starfire along with my Jazz Bass, and I noticed that the Fender didn't distort well, but when I played overdriven chords and moved up the neck on the Guild, it had a sweet sustain with a lot of interesting overtones.”

Reflecting on his almost telepathic lock with drummer Mitch Mitchell, Casady said: “When I work with drummers, we often have a hard time seeing eye-to-eye because I don't play patterns with them. It's still a marriage rhythmically, but playing together does not mean just playing the same notes.

“Fortunately most of the drummers I play with understand this, so we're able to support each other while still exploring new ideas.”

This interview with the late Hubert Sumlin was originally published in the March 1992 issue of Guitar World.

Few musical marriages have been so magical, so intuitively right, as that of the great blues singer Howlin’ Wolf and his guitarist, Hubert Sumlin.

From the time he joined the blues legend’s band in 1954 until Wolf’s death in 1976, Sumlin played a central role in crafting some of the century’s most memorable and influential American roots music. His economical, stinging fills, unusual rhythmic approach, and perfectly placed bent notes are as integral as Wolf’s growl to the blues power of classics like Spoonful, Smokestack Lightnin’, Killing Floor, and The Red Rooster.

Blues and rock guitarists who cut and bloodied their teeth on Howlin’ Wolf tunes were heavily influenced by Sumlin: Hendrix often covered Killing Floor; the Rolling Stones, Clapton, and countless lesser blues-rock lights continue to play The Red Rooster; the Doors remade Back Door Man in their own image; The Sky Is Crying, a 1991 collection of Stevie Ray Vaughan outtakes, includes the late guitarist’s version of May I Have a Talk with You; and Page, Clapton, and Beck each flattered Sumlin by imitating him on Spoonful and Smokestack Lightnin’.

Sumlin backed Howlin’ Wolf for 23 years, a stretch broken only by six months in 1956 when he worked for Wolf’s arch rival, Muddy Waters. After Wolf’s death, Sumlin launched his long-delayed solo career, becoming a Chicago blues club fixture and making occasional festival appearances.

Did Howlin’ Wolf explicitly tell you what to play?

Not really. When I first got with him, he told me that I wasn’t ready to play his music, so I should go home and think about it for a day, a week, a month, or a year, whatever it took. “Come back when you’re ready,” he said. “When you figure out how to play my stuff, then you’re hired.”

I went home and prayed and slept with my guitar under my pillow trying to figure something out, because I knew that this man was serious. Wolf did not bullshit.

I had played with a pick for eight or nine years, and I couldn’t put it down. Then I woke up one morning and started playing without a pick, and the first thing I thought of was Smokestack Lightnin’. I played it better than I ever had and realized, I don’t need no pick. I don’t need anything but my fingers. And that was it.

Everything fell into place when you got rid of the pick.

Exactly. I started playing with a lot more soul. I never used a pick again. That was my secret to unlocking everything. My tone, my sound, everything happened right then. People can’t understand how I play. The average guitar player don’t know what I’m doing. But it’s my thing. It’s what God gave me; I don’t need a pick because I got five fingers. How can one pick compete?

One unusual aspect of your style is that you don’t play a lot of chords.

No, I don’t, but I play a lot of tricks. Like Muddy Waters once said, I’ve got a lot of gimmicks up my sleeves. I know when to get in and when to get out. Lots of guitarists just miss out on that aspect of playing. I know how and where to put it, which is what it’s all about.

Did many of your personal playing trademarks develop as a result of playing with Howlin’ Wolf for so long?

Yes and no. I also played with Muddy Waters for six months and, Lord, I learned a lot from Jimmy Rogers [Waters’ lead guitarist].

I picked up from every guitarist I ever worked with. I’d take a note from here and a note from here, a lick from him and a lick from him, and put it all together. That’s the Hubert Sumlin style. And that’s what I would recommend any guitarist do: listen to players you like and pick things up from everyone and everywhere.

You have to learn how to use your instrument to its fullest. You got five different Es, you got five different As, and you got to use them all. If you’re all over the neck, you’re better. That’s why I never used a clamp [capo] like Muddy or Albert Collins or Jimmy Rogers: Why limit yourself? You’ll notice that kids coming up today play great, and they don’t use a clamp because they’ve got better knowledge of the instrument.

There’s one element of your background that’s almost unique among bluesmen: you studied guitar at the Chicago Conservatory of Music. What was the extent of your formal training?

I studied for six months with this old guy who was with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. It was the first time I ever saw a dude who played both opera and blues on his guitar. It had a huge impact on me, because I didn’t know the piano keyboard and I didn’t know how to read – I didn’t know an F from an A, an A from a B or a B from a C. That guy showed me so much in just six months.

Even though you always played electric guitar with Wolf, your sound often had a bit of a country blues vibe. Is that where you come from, musically?

Actually, when I was a kid I wanted to be a jazz player like Charlie Christian more than anything, but I also loved and heard the blues.

[Those players] were all around me, and at a certain point, I realized how great all these dudes I listened to were: Charley Patton, Lonnie Johnson, Robert Johnson… all those guys. Peetie Wheatstraw, the “devil’s son-in-law” – Jesus, man, he was something! Then when I got with Wolf and Muddy I realized that they actually played with these guys, and that blew my mind.

I’ll never forget my old 78 of Charley Patton. He was a wizard, man, a genius. I tried to ask Wolf about him, and he said, “Aw, you young punk, you’re too young to understand.” It always hurt me that I missed out on seeing and playing with those old guys, because they wrote the book that Wolf and Muddy electrified and expanded. If Wolf and Muddy were the fathers of rock and roll, then those acoustic guys were the granddaddies.

It sounds like Wolf was very conscious of the age difference between you two.

Yeah. He told me one time, a couple of years before he died, that he was “40 years too early.” He said, “I plowed mules barefoot in December, with snow on the ground, the dirt frozen as a rock.” I said, “Don’t lie, man.” And he said, “I’m not lying. I’m 40 years too early. Things are getting better all the time.” The next year he got sick and went on a kidney dialysis machine.

It can be said that you are the link between the Delta bluesmen and rock and roll. On the one hand, you played with Wolf, who was a contemporary of Robert Johnson and the other guys you mentioned. At the same time, you also exerted a huge influence on the next generation – rock guitarists who weren’t really all that much younger than you.

I’m very proud of that, and I got to meet those guys. I met Eric Clapton in 1970 when I played on Wolf’s London Sessions. I wasn’t supposed to be there, but Clapton said, “If Hubert’s not there, I don’t record.” Then Wolf said he couldn’t record without me, so they had to bring me.

Wolf was on a dialysis machine right in the studio, with doctors tending him night and day. He was so sick that on a couple of nights we didn’t even record; we just sat in the studio and got high. Mick Jagger and Bill Wyman came in, and we partied all night long, man. The cleaning lady came in the next morning and everyone was laying there on the floor. Mick Jagger had his head up inside the bass drum. [laughs] It was wild. We had a ball.

Did you spend much time with Clapton?

Yes. One day, Eric sent a limousine for me, and we drove for 30 or 40 miles outside of London to his big old mansion in the country. A gorgeous place, like a castle. We had a beautiful dinner, then he took me down to the basement, where he had all these guitars. It looked like a factory: three and a half walls of a room lined with every kind of guitar you can imagine.

He said, “Pick out a couple of those guitars, Hubert. I’m giving you two of them.” I walked all the way around the room, looking at every one of them. Then I saw this case sitting in the middle of the room. I sat down on the floor and said, “What’s in there?” He said, “It ain’t nothing, man.” I asked if I could take a look. He said. “You don’t want that.” I opened the case and took out this beautiful Fender Stratocaster and started playing it there, sitting on the floor.

He said, “Hey, man, I told you to pick any two you want from those that are up against the wall.” I said, “I know, but this Fender sure sounds good. Is it your regular?” He said, “It sure is.” I said, “I knew it, because that’s the one.” He said, “You mean to say you’re going to take it from me, man?” I said, “No, I can’t do it. I don’t want none of these.” He said, “Take it, man. At least I know it’s got a good home. Just promise me that if I ever want it back you’ll give it to me.”

I kept it for two years and hardly ever played it. Then we were both at the Montreaux Jazz Festival, and I brought it over to him. He asked me how much money I wanted, if there was anything I needed. I said, “Nothing man, it’s your guitar. Don’t embarrass me.” He just gave me a hug. He’s a nice guy. A beautiful guy.

Did you have any sense that you were making history when you recorded those classic tracks with Wolf?

No, and I really didn’t care. But I knew that he was going to be one of the greats. And I was so devoted that I wanted to push him to the top.

When you’re recording for people the caliber of Howlin’ Wolf, you’re going to do your best. And in those days, there wasn’t even a question, man: you were going to play your guts out. There had been some days in the past when my stomach ached from not having anything to eat. When I recorded, I would remember those days and remember how I never wanted to go back to them. And I would play!

What kind of personal relationship did you have with Wolf?

We were like father and son, although we had some tremendous fights. He knocked my teeth out, and I knocked his out. None of it mattered; we always got right back together.

You fought with Wolf? He was a huge man.

Oh man, he was big. He could wrap one of his fingers around my guitar neck three times. One time after a gig, we were loading up the truck, and I wasn’t there because I’d run off with this cute girl who’d been sitting on my amplifier, smiling at me all night long. When I got back they were just finishing loading, and Wolf was standing on top of the stage. He started yelling at me, calling me every name you ever heard – and some you couldn’t imagine – because he had to load my gear. I was embarrassed, man, because this was right in front of the whole band.

So I thought, ‘He can’t do this to me. He can’t humiliate me.’ So I waited until he was looking the other way, and I hit him in the face as hard as I could. He didn’t move. He just turned back real slow and slapped me with the back of his hand. I fell and rolled down the ramp that was pushed up to the stage to load the amps. I got up and walked back, screaming at him. When I got to the top he did the same thing again, and I rolled right back down, spitting out teeth.

Is that why you left to play with Muddy Waters?

No. Me and Wolf patched it up right away. In fact, the next morning, my wife woke me up and said that Wolf had been sitting in his car in front of my house all night long. I went out there and he apologized and gave me money to fix my mouth. I left to play with Muddy because he tripled my salary. They were rivals, and Muddy wanted to take me away from Wolf.

Was the rivalry between Wolf and Muddy apparent to everybody?

Sure. They were jealous of one another; they were enemies: “You stole my shit.” “You did this.” “You did that.” It was endless because they were the two biggest dudes in Chicago, and they were always arguing and competing about who was number one. [laughs]

I’ll never forget the day we played the Ann Arbor Blues Festival, and Wolf and Muddy sat down and talked and made friends. They shook hands and said, “No more enemies.” That thrilled me so much, I went and got a beer.

This is a business we do every day and love to death, and I never understood that jealousy. It’s music. Who cares who’s the best?

What are your memories of Jimi Hendrix?

He was just a little ol’ dude living in England. It was before his band, the Experience, hit it big. We played in Liverpool, the Beatles’ home, and in walked Jimi Hendrix, a little ol’ hip guy wearing earrings and a bandanna. Wolf said, “What the fuck is this guy? I ain’t saying nothing to that motherfucker.”

He came right up to Wolf and asked if he could play his guitar. Wolf nodded and Hendrix picked it up, turned it over and played it with his teeth. [laughs] He played the hell out of it. Wolf looked at him, big-eyed, and said, “You hired, man, you hired!” He said, “No thank you, Mr. Wolf. But I admire you and the blues. You guys are 100 percent. Beautiful, man.”

I never played with him after that, but I saw him do his thing in New York, after he hit, and I fell in love. The guy was great! Just a little ol’ skinny youngster. He was in his twenties, but he looked 16 or 17, and he was good, man. I mean, really good.

Hendrix often called you a big influence. Your playing on several tracks from the Fifties represents some of the earliest instances of a guitarist using distortion. How did you do that?

I was just using my Gibson and my Wabash amp, which I used for a long time. It was one of the first amps to have 15-inch speakers. I also got an Echoplex right when they came out, and combined with those 15-inch speakers, that made “distortion.”

What sort of Gibson did you play?

A Les Paul – I believe it was a ’56. I often played them. I also had a Kay guitar. For four years, Wolf didn’t have a piano or even a bass – just two guitars and drums, so Jody Williams [Wolf’s second guitarist] and I coordinated our parts closely and decided that we would both play Kays. I didn’t like that Les Paul all that much, but I sure do wish that I had it now. [laughs]

The foundation of virtually every genre of modern, guitar-driven music is the blues. I’m known as a blues-rock player, and even within the rockier side of my music, I always start and end with the blues.

For example, if I’m playing in the key of F, I will very often rely on melodic single-line figures that originate from my love of and time spent listening to single-note blues guitar improvisation.

Figure 1 illustrates five bars of improvised soloing that are very vocal-like. I begin in the 6th-position “B.B. box,” which positions the index finger on the F root note on the B string’s 6th fret. The surrounding notes – D, G, Ab, Bb, and C – make reference to both the F major pentatonic (F, G, A, C, D) and F minor pentatonic scales (F, Ab, Bb, C, Eb).

Bars 2 and 3 shift up the board to focus more on F minor pentatonic, but at the end of bar 3 into bar 4, I move from F major pentatonic back into F minor pentatonic. Switching between these two scales is a staple of blues guitar that I learned from listening to all of my heroes: B.B. King, Otis Rush, Eric Clapton, Peter Green, and many others.

With that familiar ground firmly established, it feels like a natural transition to broaden the harmony into other modes. In Figure 2, I add the notes Gb and Db to F minor pentatonic while substituting the major 3rd, A, for the minor 3rd, Ab.

The result is the F Phrygian-dominant mode (F, Gb, A, Bb, C, Db, Eb), which is the fifth mode of the Bb harmonic minor scale (Bb, C, Db, Eb, F, Gb, A), made up of the same seven notes. In bar 3, I move back into blues territory with a phrase based on F minor pentatonic.

I’ll begin most solos with lines rooted in the blues, even if it’s not a blues song. I learned that from Eric Clapton; I saw an interview where he said, “I always start with the blues.” You will certainly hear great examples of this in his recordings with John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers and Cream.

To my mind, it’s not just about the scales; it’s about the phrasing and how tactile you are in your articulation and execution. The thought process is, which notes should sting, which notes should moan, and how can I effectively express emotion.

Figure 3 picks up at the fourth bar of an improvised phrase, kicking off with an F major triad (F, A, C). This is a good example of how a triad can function as a “stepping stone” when moving from one phrase or area of the neck to another.

In bar 5 and into bar 6 of the figure, I lean a bit heavier into the gas pedal with fast phrases inspired by another one of my big influences, Eric Johnson.

I’ve found it very useful to have built a foundation in the blues, which helps me to move into broader musical territory. Next month, we’ll explore this further.

• The Spirit of Rory Live From Cork is out now via J&R Adventures
• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

When Eric Clapton reached out to Derek Trucks to invite him onto to his collaborative record with JJ Cale, the slide guitar master thought he was being prank-called.

In 2006, Cale and Slowhand teamed up for The Road to Escondido, a star-studded blues album that also featured contributions from John Mayer, Billy Preston, Taj Mahal, Steve Jordan, Pino Palladino, and more.

Clapton also tried to approach Derek Trucks for the album, but it was a rocky recruitment phase. Not only did Trucks ignore the call, he was skeptical whether the real Slowhand had phoned him.

“I was here at home playing poker with my grandfather and dad and brother and a bunch of friends, and I remember just getting a call on my cellphone,” Trucks remembers of the project in an interview with Alan Paul.

“This is early days, where you had to have a specific international plan or you couldn’t call them back. I just didn’t recognize the number so I let it go to voicemail.

“It was like, ‘Hello. This is a message for Derek Trucks. This is Eric Clapton. This may sound like a hoax but it’s not.’”

Trucks had missed the call, and because of his cellphone plan, couldn’t get hold of Clapton straight away.

“It was amazing,” Trucks adds. “I was like, ‘What is going on?’ [The message said], ‘When you get a chance, call me back.’ So I had to go down to the Verizon store the next day and get an international plan so I could call him back.

“Then he invited me out for the JJ Cale record, which I think in hindsight was more of a ‘make sure we could hang and make sure you’re not a total knucklehead’ situation.”

The pair got on, and Trucks ended up contributing to The Road to Escondido, later joining Clapton’s touring band and hitting the road with him in 2007.

A regular contributor to the Crossroads Festival, Trucks also partnered with Clapton and a whole host of other guitar greats for the Cale tribute record, The Breeze: An Appreciation of JJ Cale, in 2014.

In more recent Trucks news, the guitar hero recently made headlines when he played Jerry Garcia's $11m Tiger guitar mere hours after it was sold at auction.

Before we start, let me qualify that the ‘four notes’ part of this lesson’s title refers to four fretted notes (E, F#, A, B), plus whatever string bends I can use to squeeze more out of them!

This is an exercise in getting a lot out of a little, inspired by the likes of Albert and B.B. King and Peter Green. If you’ve never tried this before, it’s really surprising to discover how much we rely on patterns and shapes when we’re playing – and this can potentially be at the expense of thinking melodically or rhythmically.

A slow blues like this example is the ideal way to experiment with such minimalism, not because it’s easy, but because it’s so challenging! We’re really exposed here… One thing that isn’t particularly emphasised here is the use of space. But just as Albert King advised Gary Moore to play “every other lick”, we should consider each phrase and try to put ourselves in the place of the listener.

We encourage you to ask yourself questions such as: am I using enough rhythmic variation? Am I always starting or finishing on the root note? and so on. The idea isn’t to completely disregard the vocabulary and chops you’ve already developed, but rather to, ultimately, put you more in control of them.

The nature of the guitar does make it tempting to rely completely on the patterns and shapes we’ve discovered over the years and not venture outside of them. This can lead to us becoming a little jaded about our own playing. But a four-note blues such as this one is a great way to break out of that cycle.

As you play through the examples here, consider other details such as bends, vibrato and slides. Recording our playing and listening back later with an objective ear is also enlightening. I hope this approach is useful and see you next time!

Example 1

This first example makes use of short staccato notes and contrasting longer held ones. Though all these examples are transcribed as faithfully as possible, there is a little bit of ‘push and pull’ in the timing, which is to be encouraged.

One of the things great players such as Albert King, Jimmy Page and B.B. King have in common is that they don’t always play squarely across the beat. It’s also a good idea to check out the rhythmic phrasing of other instruments, or even vocals, to see if there are any ideas worth stealing.

Example 2

Making use of the note groupings on the fretboard, this second example begins with a few doublestop-type ideas. There is potential to space these out more or play with the rhythms, but that didn’t seem the best use of the space available here.

In the following bar, there’s a tone and a half bend from B up to D, the only way we can get this note without breaking our self-imposed ‘four-note’ rule… The pre-bend to C immediately afterwards follows the same rationale.

Example 3

Another tone-and-a-half bend here – it was really tempting to just play a G at the 12th fret, but that’s not in the spirit of this idea! Also, Albert King and David Gilmour are no strangers to this type of bend, and it does force us to concentrate on the pitching, which can’t be a bad thing.

As mentioned earlier, do experiment with pushing and pulling against the beat. None of this is written in stone.

Example 4

Having held a note over from the end of Example 3, we’re rejoining the action here with this Albert (or perhaps B.B.) King-style lick. Another wide bend up to D leads to a quick shift in hand position.

This allows for changing the fretting hand fingers around, giving the strength to bend the E at the 9th fret of the third string up rhythmically up to F#. This finally lands back on the E to finish.

Hear it here

Albert King – Various

Albert’s solos are a masterclass of economy and wild string bends. This is partly facilitated by his unusual tunings and ‘upside down’ playing orientation, but there’s no reason why we can’t take lessons from this to use in our own playing.

Check out Born Under Bad Sign, the version of Oh Pretty Woman where he duets with Gary Moore, and Laundromat Blues to get a taste of how he creates excitement and dynamics without moving far around the fretboard.

B.B. King – Various

Another player who wasn’t afraid to leave space and didn’t feel compelled to play long complicated runs was B.B. King, who maintained that his objective was to play simply and honestly – in his words, “like never lying”.

Check out his sparse phrasing on The Thrill Is Gone, Don’t Answer The Door and Why I Sing The Blues. It’s also worth pointing out that B.B. felt it was important to improvise and play from the heart, rather than rehearse his licks.

Peter Green – Various

Revered by players as diverse as B.B. King and Gary Moore, Peter brought a finesse to simple lines that reached players and non-players alike.

The tracks most people know are Need Your Love So Bad and Albatross, but it’s worth investigating a little more deeply to find gems like Long Grey Mare, A Fool No More and Apostle.

It’s often said that the primary objective of solo guitar playing should be to benefit the song; Peter certainly seemed to agree with this.

In this lesson, I’d like to share a cool way to add harmonic color to a melody played over a dominant 7 chord, and that is to play a minor 7 arpeggio that’s rooted a 5th higher. To demonstrate, I’ll use Dm7 arpeggios over a G7 chord.

D is the fifth note, or degree, of the G major scale. When playing in the key of G, a D major chord is the V (five) chord, and a D minor chord (Dm) is the Vm (five minor, alternatively indicated by a lowercase v).

Figure 1 shows a 3rd-position G7 barre chord, as well as the individual notes that make up the chord – G, B, D and F. G is the root, B is the major 3rd, D is the 5th and F is the minor, of “flatted,” 7th (m7, or b7).

Figure 2 illustrates a Dm7 arpeggio, built from the notes D, F, A and C. Relative to a D tonal center, D is the root, F is the minor, or “flatted,” 3rd (m3, or b3), A is the 5th and C is the minor, or “flatted,” 7th (m7, or b7). But when you play these four notes over a G chord or G bass note, D is heard as the 5th, F becomes the minor, or “flatted,” 7th, A is the 2nd, or 9th and C is the 4th, or 11th.

Figure 3 begins with a descending riff built from these notes that sounds great over G7. In bar 2, I initially ascend a Dm7 arpeggio and then end the phrase with a descending line that’s based on the G minor pentatonic scale (G, Bb, C, D, F) with the inclusion of the major 3rd, B.

To me, it always sounds pleasing to resolve the Vm7 (or v7) arpeggio to a bluesy line based on the tonic or home key. For example, in Figure 4, the Dm7 arpeggio is moved down to 2nd position and begins on the 5th string, and is followed by a G minor pentatonic line.

A good way to practice incorporating Dm7 arpeggios over a G7 chord is to set up a G7 vamp with a looper. Figure 5 illustrates a simple, funky vamp based on a repeating G7 voicing, with a hammer-on from Bb, the minor 3rd, to B, the major 3rd, each time.

A typical tried and true approach is to play straight blues over this vamp, like the riff in Figure 6, which is based on G minor pentatonic.

Now, let’s kick off the line with a Dm7 arpeggio and then hand off to G minor pentatonic. In Figure 7, I begin with the straight Dm7 arpeggio then end the phrase with a lick based on G minor pentatonic.

Next, we’ll try moving the concept to different areas of the fretboard. In Figure 8, I begin in bars 1 and 2 with a Dm7 arpeggio in 10th position.

In bar 3, I move down to 7th/8th position for the arpeggio and then wrap up the line with G minor pentatonic in 3rd position. Bar 5 starts with Dm7 in 2nd position then gradually shifts up to 6th position, before once again resolving the line to G minor pentatonic in 3rd position.

As you can see, starting on a Vm7 arpeggio and then resolving to the tonic with a more conventional blues phrase sounds really cool and satisfying and offers a great way to add harmonic depth to your solo improvisations. Try doing this in different keys.

• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

Teenage blues prodigy Rhys John Stygal has been reunited with his electric guitar after it was stolen in Austin, Texas, last month.

Stygal, who has been hailed as the next Stevie Ray Vaughan for his uncanny ability to channel the late blues legend, reported the theft of his guitar and pedalboard in an Instagram post. It was also confirmed his bandmate Nico Little had also had a guitar stolen.

He received support from Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Gary Clark Jr. and Jared James Nichols, with Joe Bonamassa issuing a public plea for the gear to be found and returned.

Now, a follow-up post from Texas Rebels, a band based in Austin, has confirmed the safe return of Stygal’s prized Fender Stevia Ray Vaughan Stratocaster.

“Shoutout to the community, we got them back,” the band’s guitarist, Jacob West, said. “Especially shout out to James Levin with Elmore Pedals. None of this would have been able to be done without you.”

Details surrounding the guitar’s recovery have not been shared, but West did add in the caption: “We’re not gonna put the person who returned them on blast.

“Whether the long story he gave was real or not, doesn’t matter, the instruments are returned to their homes where they belong.”

“I cannot believe I am so lucky, to be surrounded by the best community in Austin,” Stygal wrote in the comments. “Thank you so much to everyone who helped bring our treasures home. You’re the best ever.”

It’s not been confirmed whether Stygal’s pedalboard has also been recovered.

Stygal burst onto the scene as a 16-year-old prodigy, winning over a legion of fans thanks to his beastly blues chops that pay homage to his hero, SRV.

He has previously credited music and the guitar with saving his life, using the blues to help cope with extreme anxiety that was brought about by his autism. The return of his Number One guitar, which has been by his side for the whole time, is fantastic news indeed.

Visit Stygal's Instagram page to keep up to date with his playing journey.

Brian Setzer has looked back on the time he went on tour with Stevie Ray Vaughan – and got the rare opportunity to play the blues legend’s electric guitar.

In one of the more oft-overlooked footnotes in Stray Cats history, Setzer and his rockabilly group hit the road with SRV back in 1989. It was a tricky time, to say the least, blighted with tough crowds.

There was one highlight experience for Setzer, though: on one date, he got the chance to play Vaughan’s Strat.

“I recall that the crowds hated us. [Laughs] They hated us! They were only there to see Stevie Ray, and they didn’t give us a chance,” Setzer says of the tour. “It wasn’t an easy tour for us, I can tell you that.”

Nonetheless, being on the road with SRV had its perks.

“I loved listening to him,” he says. “I remember thinking, ‘How does he get that sound?’ Only he could get a Strat to sound like that.

“One night he called me on stage, and he handed me a Strat and put it over me. I thought, ‘Oh, great! I’m finally going to see what this is all about.’”

SRV’s Strats are up there as some of blues guitar’s most iconic instruments, famously strung with ultra-heavy 13-58 strings. The thought of playing such a heavy-strung Strat, especially one that belonged to Vaughan, is intimidating.

However, Setzer wasn’t all that surprised. If anything, he notes, it felt rather familiar. And it cemented an important lesson: tone is in the hands.

“There were rumors that he had amps underneath the stage and he had them miked up in the basement – all sorts of stuff,” Setzer adds. “So I played it… and it sounded like me. I didn’t sound like Stevie Ray. I mean, his guitar even felt like mine.

“The action was the same, the volume he played at, the amp he played through. I was like, ‘Well, this is interesting. Stevie sounds like he does because it’s all in his hands.’ He was phenomenal.

“He was so fluid, and he played the blues differently every night. Besides us getting booed off the stage, it was a great show.”

To read the full interview with Brian Setzer, in which he gives an update on his ongoing health issues, pick up the new issue of Guitar World at Magazines Direct.

From sideman to solo artist, Philip Sayce has carved his own lane, with his explosive blues-rock guitar playing and a soulful singing voice that follows close behind.

With more than two decades of touring under his belt, an electrifying live show, and a string of critically acclaimed albums, one enduring feature of Sayce’s playing is his affinity to the Fender Stratocaster, a tool that helps him continue his journey as an artist guided by heart, soul and authenticity.

He breaks down his essential Strats – and the secret to his electrifying tone.

What is it about your ’63 Stratocasters that makes them so special to you?

There’s just something about the ’63s from that era. I always felt like Fender hit the sweet spot with those guitars. You’d pick one up and go, ‘Oh, that’s a pretty good one… here’s another pretty good one.’ There was a consistency in the neck shape, the way they felt physically and how they sat when you played them.

The two that I have are from August and September ’63, and even though they’re different, they both just feel right. The pickups in both guitars are also outstanding.

There’s one that I call ‘Big Daddy’ and it’s just the biggest, widest, meanest-sounding Strat I’ve ever heard. It just spanks. The other one, that I call ‘Mother’, has a slightly different thing going on. It’s got ’58 pickups in it now, so it’s a little more airy and sparkly but still has that ’63 chunk.

Have you done much to them in terms of modifications or maintenance?

Yes, a little bit. I refretted them several times with pretty much the widest, tallest fretwire I could find. Because most of my vocabulary is around bending, it’s better for the feel and it holds up longer.

I tried to keep the original pots in there as long as possible, even to the detriment of the tone, but at some point they got so bad that I had to replace them. Some of the saddles also got to a point where they just wouldn’t move any more, so I had to replace a few of those, too.

How did you first get turned on to vintage Strats?

It was always a dream. All my heroes – Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Knopfler, Buddy Guy – they were playing those guitars. I had been hearing from players and collectors over and over again that the ’62s and ’63s were the sweet spot for vintage Strats. A friend of mine helped me find my first one.

The second one, the ‘Big Daddy’ Strat, was actually a guitar I missed out on years earlier. Then 10 or 15 years later, a buddy called me and said, ‘Hey, I just saw this guitar and it made me think of you.’ He sent a picture and it was the exact same guitar. So I sold a bunch of stuff and bought it. That one felt like it was meant to be.

Why do you think modern guitars still haven’t quite captured the tone and feel of vintage guitars?

I don’t think modern builders are getting it wrong or missing anything. The wood on a vintage guitar that’s 60-plus years old is dry and settled. When those guitars were made, that wood might’ve already been 100 years old. You can get really close now, but there’s maybe that last five or 10 per cent where it comes down to the resonance and the age of the wood.

The pickups make a huge difference, too. Some people have this idea that overwinding a pickup is better, and that’s not always true. The pickups in ‘Mother’ are from ’58. They’re slightly underwound and sound great.

We also did a project with Seymour Duncan, recreating the pickups from ‘Mother’, and it was fascinating, just really getting into the details of what made them sound that way. The Seymour Duncan team did a fabulous job and the Duncan Mother pickups sound fantastic.

How does your PRS Silver Sky fit in with your vintage Strats?

It’s really its own thing. It’s not competing with the ’63s; it’s got its own lane. It’s incredibly comfortable, it stays in tune and it just goes where you want it to go. I always say that vintage guitars are like muscle cars. You hear that rumble, and you just know what it is.

The Silver Sky is like a modern performance car. It’s got all the bells and whistles and it handles the corners really well. It doesn’t fight you at all. It’s like the wind is at your back when you’re playing it.

Do you play differently depending on the guitar?

Not really in a big way. I mean, the feel is a little different, but it’s more about what the guitar gives you and how it responds. With the old guitars, once you get them dialled in with a good luthier, they just feel like an old pair of jeans or an old baseball glove. Nothing feels quite like that. The Silver Sky is really comfortable, too, and I actually like to warm up on it.

Which guitars do you take out on the road these days?

Most of the time I’ll bring ‘Big Daddy’ and the Silver Sky, so just two guitars. Sometimes I’ll bring another guitar, but those two cover a lot of ground. In a perfect world, I’d bring 10 guitars, but you gotta make it work with what you can carry.

When did you start seriously exploring tone beyond just guitars?

Playing beside Jeff Healey kind of forced it. His Marshalls sounded huge on stage, and I needed something that could keep up. Not just in volume but in the way it responded. While I was out on the road with Jeff, I contacted Cesar Diaz [legendary amp tech], who had worked on Stevie Ray Vaughan’s amps.

I sent him a late-’60s 100-watt Fender Dual Showman head, and when I got it back it was insane. The best amp I’d ever heard with unbelievable punch, sustain and clarity.

Later he invited me to stay at his place for a few days, so I brought a Super Reverb and a Bassman for him to work on. I got to spend time in his ’shop while he built some pedals for me as well. It was very hands-on where I would play, give him feedback and he would mess with the amp. He dialled in my Super Reverb in about 20 minutes [laughs]. He was amazing.

We worked on getting my guitars and Fuzz Face to interact with the amp the right way. I was also looking for clarity with almost a hi-fi sound but not harsh or shrill. Cesar approached amps the way a tailor fits a suit. Watching him work was like seeing magic happen before my eyes [smiles].

Did that experience also influence your choice of speakers from there on out?

Absolutely. When I brought the Super Reverb to Cesar’s shop it had 40-watt Naylor 10-inch speakers in it. Cesar thought they sounded good but knew I would need something better. That’s when he turned me on to Electro-Voice speakers.

I eventually started using EVM12Ls in most of my touring cabinets with Jeff Healey and later with Melissa Etheridge because they were so strong and reliable. Once you feel a 4x12 with EVs, it’s hard to go back.

For the past 15 years or so I’ve also worked closely with amp designer Tommy Cougar [of Custom by Cougar] in Sweden. He’s incredible and, in my opinion, the best living amp guy in the world right now. Tommy studied Cesar’s work as well as Alexander Dumble’s.

He also turned me on to JBL speakers, which I use today in my Super Reverb. That approach really comes from the lineage of players like Stevie Ray Vaughan, Jimmie Vaughan, Albert Collins and Freddie King.

Those guys were all using big JBL speakers to get that sound. To get my sound, I typically go for high-headroom Fender or Marshall style amps. I keep them clean and push the front-end with a pedal, rather than relying on heavy preamp gain.

Did that experience shift how you think about tone?

Yeah, it taught me that tone is really about response. The amp has to react to your hands. If you play softly it opens up, and if you dig in it pushes back. When that relationship works, you stop fighting the instrument and start communicating through it.

• Scorched Earth, Vol. 2 (Live from LA and London) is out now via Atomic Gemini.
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

Many artists would have struggled to follow a debut album as game-changing as Texas Flood. Not SRV, however, who showed no signs of second album syndrome on 1984’s Couldn’t Stand The Weather.

Its opening track, the fiery instrumental he named Scuttle Buttin’, is arguably the most technically demanding piece of music he ever put his name to.

An uptempo 12-bar shuffle delivered in fast and furious style in under two minutes, in which he ripped through the open position of the Eb blues scale at 162bpm, demonstrating his ferocious alternate-picking skills with flickers of legato and glissando to round it all off. But it was far greater than an exercise in clinical repetition, instead typifying a gift most natural indeed – the kind very few are born with.

The title track from Couldn’t Stand The Weather was issued as a single with a video that received regular rotation on MTV. In this, Stevie can be seen playing his Hamiltone Stratocaster copy built by New York luthier James Hamilton. It had been commissioned by ZZ Top legend Billy Gibbons, and was presented to SRV as a gift on April 29, 1984.

Though it was similar in shape, the guitar carried a few notable differences to the real-deal Strats the guitarist was usually seen with, such as the neck-through-body design instead of the standard Fender bolt-on, and a two-piece maple body as opposed to his favoured alder.

In place of the usual rosewood, the fretboard was made out of ebony featured an abalone inlay emblazoned with the guitarist’s name. Somewhat ironically, during the video shoot the guitar itself couldn’t stand the weather, with the EMG pickups damaged by the ‘rain’ falling on the musicians and their instruments. Stevie replaced them with stock Fender single coils.

Other highlights from the album included slow blues Tin Pan Alley, jazz closer Stang’s Swang and W.C. Clark/Mike Kindred cover Cold Shot – which, like title track, made use of the Fender Vibratone cabinet manufactured by the American guitar company during the late-’60s and early-’70s.

A modulation effect would be produced by its 10-inch speaker and cylinder being mechanically rotated by a motor with a rubber belt, taking advantage of the Doppler effect – which is the apparent change in frequency of a wave to the listener as a result of motion.

Soul to Soul, the third album by Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble, arrived in 1985, and again yielded some staggeringly thrilling and ambitious moments as the band dared to tread new ground with keyboardist Reese Wynans, who now plays with Joe Bonamassa.

Look At Little Sister, for example, drifted away from their roots as a power trio and incorporated some honky-tonk piano as well as a saxophone solo, whereas Change It felt like a heavier and more modern take on the traditional blues format pursued on their earlier recordings. And on the closing ballad Life Without You he sang as beautifully as he played – a masterclass in sonic perfection.

As drummer Chris Layton recalls: “I guess to some extent we all had that perfectionist ideal, always wanting to get a little better, but Stevie was a really easy-going guy. He was a very forgiving person, and generous.

“The one thing he was demanding of – without ever saying it – was trying our hardest and being the best we could be. It was never like, ‘Uh oh, you made a mistake!’ In fact, he’d often say a mistake might even be something new – let’s go with it and see where it takes us instead of stopping and starting again because it was played wrong.

“That was a beautiful thing about him. We never really analysed what we were doing. We just had to put our hearts and souls into what we were playing. There were no qualifications, rules or regulations, which was cool but also kinda daunting – especially when you’re on stage in front of 20,000 people and he starts playing something new! You have to jump in and not question whether it will work or not. We just had to take off and try our best!”

It was in this period that Stevie’s alcohol and cocaine addictions began to spiral out of control, almost killing him from dehydration in Germany and famously leading to a blackout on stage in London. As he later revealed: “I would wake up and guzzle something just to get rid of the pain I was feeling. It was like… solid doom.”

After doctors warned him that he was just months away from death, Stevie entered rehab in 1986 and continued his recovery after relocating back to the house he grew up in. Although he was nervous about performing sober, he returned to the stage on November 23 of that year at Maryland’s Towson State University.

Sadly, as fate would have it, the 1989 album In Step – its title openly referring to his recent experience of rehabilitation – would end up being the final release from Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble.

It remains a favourite among fans for many reasons, with the quartet broadening their horizons and penning tracks that felt slicker and ultimately bigger than their earlier work, with additional horns, saxophones and trumpets for good measure.

Opening track The House Is Rockin’ includes some phenomenal interplay between SRV and Wynans, and a new sense of musical focus is evident.

There’s the band boogie of Crossfire, and the funky shuffle of Tightrope features another example of Stevie’s dynamic phrasing during the solo section, where he leaves long gaps in between his musical sentences to let the conversation flow naturally. And, just like everything they’d recorded thus far, there were many different shades of blue to be found in between its energetic opener, the slower 1-4-5 of Leave My Girl Alone and grand finale Riviera Paradise.

Says Chris Layton: “All the stuff we recorded together, from Tightrope, Lookin’ Out The Window and Leave My Girl Alone to Crossfire to Riviera Paradise and Stang’s Swang, these were all incredible songs and all very different. It wasn’t just the blues format dragging on and on.”

To promote In Step, the band joined forces on a tour with Jeff Beck and his group, who had recently released the highly acclaimed Jeff Beck’s Guitar Shop album. Anyone who was lucky enough to catch any of the 29 dates on The Fire Meets the Fury Tour will have seen two of greatest guitar players of all time going head-to-head on latter-day releases that proved they still had plenty to say. But, of course, in SRV’s case, it was just not meant to be.

During one month in 1990 he had teamed up with big brother Jimmie to record the album Family Style, credited to The Vaughan Brothers. The album was produced by Nile Rodgers, and for a lot of those recordings Stevie ended up using the Chic guitarist’s black Strat with gold hardware.

“He loved the way it sounded,” Rodgers told Total Guitar. “A few months before doing that Vaughan Brothers record, I went out and bought that guitar from Manny’s in New York. I might actually send that to Fender and have them come up with the story of how it was made and why it was made that year… because it was not a normal kind of Strat.”

On August 27 of that year, Stevie Ray Vaughan and Double Trouble played as support act to Eric Clapton at the Alpine Valley Music Theater in Wisconsin. The show climaxed with an all-star jam. Shortly after, Stevie joined three members of Clapton’s entourage in a helicopter bound for Chicago. In foggy conditions, the helicopter crashed half a mile from its take-off point, killing all onboard.

As Chris Layton solemnly recalls, “The night he died, we spoke for an hour about what was next. Stevie said that he and Jimmie were going to do some stuff to promote the Family Style record, and then he said, ‘I’m really excited because once we’re done with that, I’ve got a bunch of ideas that, I hope I don’t freak you out – but I’m hearing strings and brass and a whole different bunch of shit compared to what we’ve done in the past!’

“He was really jazzed about it and wanted us to be, too. These were just ideas pouring out of him and I couldn’t wait to hear them. Then he got on that helicopter and took off. I think that’s the best insight of knowing where he was going… and the future that never happened.”

Chris has so many great memories from the years he spent with Stevie. What he remembers most of all is a man who lived for playing guitar. “Stevie had a guitar in his hand most of the time,” he says. “He’d always be sat there playing away, but not rehearsing or anything. He was just always strumming that guitar. That’s what was amazingly pure about him. Playing guitar was his life.”

In 1968, Jeff Beck released Truth, a pumped-up blues-rock album featuring Rod Stewart's grainy vocals, Mickey Waller on drums, and a recently “demoted” Ron Wood on bass guitar.

Originally the band's second guitarist, Wood took over the bass duties when original member Dave Ambrose missed a rehearsal.

As it turned out, Wood actually preferred letting Beck take the spotlight on guitar, and for two albums (the band put out Beck-Ola the following year), he laid the foundation for the future of hard-rock bass playing.

When you consider that Truth pre-dates Led Zeppelin's arrival on the scene by a year, Wood's bass playing takes on even greater significance.

In addition to a 1968 Telecaster Bass, he played a Fender Jazz Bass he “obtained” from a store near their rehearsal studio. In a 1975 interview, he told Guitar Player, “I had no money... I couldn't pay for it, so I borrowed it and never took it back. About five years later I paid for it, after they tracked me down.”

As a guitarist coming to the bass, Wood brought a melodic voice to the instrument (later exemplified by his playing on Rod Stewart's Maggie May), along with a rhythmic ferocity born of his well-honed chops, as heard on Let Me Love You, a straight-ahead 12-bar blues penned by blues legend Willie Dixon.

Let Me Love You is played here in F# with a swinging 16th-note rock feel. The blues scale (1-b3-4-#4-5-b7) in that key offers use of the open E and A strings, and Wood’s bassline takes full advantage of the position.

The first of nine choruses features an authoritative instrumental statement from Beck over the alternating I-IV progression for the first four bars of the blues form, and the bassline comes in blasting a prototypical riff with an accent off the ‘e’ of beat four that gets repeated throughout the tune.

At 00:32, Rod Stewart's vocals take the lead, and the alternating I-IV movement gives way to a standard ‘long I’ progression for the rest of the song.

At 00:41 Wood introduces a variation of the Shortening Bread lick (1-6-5), which is a recurring theme throughout. The answer phrase at 00:48 goes up an octave, with the slide up from the last F# causing the following lick (which sounds like Mountain's Mississippi Queen) to get hacked up.

This lick reappears many times, but this one has an unexpected visit from the open E string. It's a quick blip that doesn't cause any real problems, but it's typical of Wood's relaxed approach to the bass. Although he misses the intended destination note (F#), Wood nails it every other time.

Beck starts to solo at 01:33, and Wood calms it down with steady eighth-notes and a descending octave jump that serves as a motif for the next four bars.

The Shortening Bread lick at 02:19 gets transmuted into a blues riff that has a strong resemblance to the pre-chorus guitar riff from the Rolling Stones’ 19th Nervous Breakdown.

The solo ends with a short ‘three-against-four’ rhythm that creates adequate tension for the release into the next chorus where Stewart’s vocals return.

This time, Wood sets up the Mississippi Queen lick with a slide from the low F# and nails it at 02:42. On the IV, he ventures up to the G string and plays in the higher octave, bringing out a melodic vibe with the C# at 02:48.

The energy chills out again and Wood opens chorus seven with a quote from Duck Dunn's riff on Hip Hug-Her by Booker T. & the M.G.’s. It could be a simply happy accident, but most important is to notice how he uses space to work with the dynamic level of the arrangement.

Wood pokes his head up above the fray again by sliding up to the high C# at 03:17, but gets in a little trouble on the way down the lick by letting an open D and A slip through. Not a big problem really, but it was probably not intentional.

Just when it feels as if the energy is petering out a bit, the drums set up a fill at 04:00, and Wood unleashes a furious rapid-fire lick with a bluesy bend that brings back the fire for the final chorus.

Wood keeps up the dynamics, using the mid-register F# to give the line a lift. The song stops abruptly at 04:27, and Wood sets up the end with an unaccompanied descending blues scale that lets you hear the true tone of the bass.

Running it through a Marshall 100-watt stack and playing roundwound strings with a pick, dig the amp breakup on the E string!

Devon Allman has a regal guitar lineage through his father Gregg and uncle Duane. So it’s no surprise that, when asked who he’d like guitar lessons from, or to collaborate with, Allman tells Guitar World with a wink: “I’m all set!”

At 53, Devon Allman doesn’t bother much with genres – his career has run the gamut from metal-tinged hard rock to heavy blues. Along with his ongoing Allman Brothers torch-carrying activities, he’s kept himself busy.

As for what continues to stoke his passion for guitar, he says: “Pain and love, baby! There’s about 20 shades of color in them there volume and tone knobs on your git-fiddle. Use them bubbas!

“But remember – you, the artist, don’t matter. Only the audience and the music matter. Just go and serve up the medicine to soothe the souls. We’re sonic doctors, man.”

What was your first guitar and how did you get it?

It was a large box acoustic with cat-gut strings, purchased over the border in Matamoros, Mexico! My mom had bought it in ’78 to fiddle around with, as she'd taken lessons as a teen.

Later, when I showed interest in guitar, she said I had to start with that! I still own it, too… the neck is akin to a damn Louisville Slugger baseball bat!

What quirks of your playing have become part of your style?

I guess I end up caring more about the right hand than the left. I try to make a little melody and then skank it out with something rhythmic and weave in and out between the two. But turning the mind off is the trick, and it's not easy!

I just try to escape and paint the sky. Then, when I get to the point where I'm scared shitless, but I’m also in the place where I don’t give a shit – well, that's right about where I wanna be.

What was your greatest gear find?

I’d have to say my ’57 Les Paul Junior. She's a beauty, and she was a steal!

What’s your most memorable encounter with a guitarist?

Shit hoss, I'll give ya three! I've really been beyond blessed to have jammed with some doozies. First, playing with Les Paul at The Iridium – it was a spectacular evening, hang, and guitar lesson all wrapped into one.

Then there’s trading licks with Buddy Guy in Belgium. And third would be jamming with Slash on [The Allman Brothers’] Dreams at our Allman Betts Family Revival gig at The Ryman.

You can only take a Strat or a Les Paul to a gig. Which do you choose?

Well… I’ve got two hands, so I’m choosing both! But in a pinch, I can get away with a Tele or SG to have some versatility.

What was your worst onstage moment?

Puking before hitting the stage opening for my dad at the House of Blues in Los Angeles – as they were announcing my band! I had too much Jager pre-show… back then I really had my priorities dialed in!

Tell me about a lightbulb moment of genuine inspiration.

When I went to Greenland solo in June to write songs. I just wanted somewhere remote to hike, whale watch, fish – just check out of planet Earth. And man, I caught more than fish.

What’s been the hardest time you’ve had as a musician?

Playing in nightclubs for low or no dough about four nights a week from 1992 to 2005 – that was 13 years! And then touring in a van for a minimum of 250 shows a year from 2006 to 2017. All that was rough as shit; but I wouldn't change one bit of it.

What’s the best guitar tone of all time?

Damn, bro! Maybe Knopfler? That’s an impossible subjective question! Maybe Gilmour? Santana's Moonflower record might be the ultimate glory tone.

What most appeals to you when you pick up the instrument?

The curves of that guitar are like the curves of a lady, and it can take you to other realms.

What’s your number-one guitar and what’s its story?

Honestly, come see me play. The guitar will do the talkin’ and tell the story!

• Check out Devon Allman Project’s current tour dates.

Back in the ’90s, just after leaving Guns N’ Roses, when he was slinging his Les Paul solo, Slash hit local LA bars and clubs playing blues standards. The project was called the Blues Ball and, according to the musician, it wasn’t remotely serious.

“It was basically just a drunken excuse to go out and jam,” Slash tells Guitarist. But nearly 30 years later, his love for blues – and the gear that inspires it – has turned serious. The result was 2024’s Orgy Of The Damned, a blues cover album featuring a who’s who of all-stars – and plenty of vintage guitars and amplifiers, among them Magnatone combos that have replaced his beloved Marshall stacks.

“[The Magnatone] just sounds so much fuller in the low-end, and cleaner,” he says. “When you do a chord, you hear all the notes. It’s been a huge shift for me.”

Slash toured behind Orgy Of The Damned, resulting in a live album, Live At The S.E.R.P.E.N.T. Festival, which captured the blues-laden magic he had been conjuring with a collection of blues standards and rock staples.

The core band line-up comprised Teddy ‘Zig Zag’ Andreadis (keyboards, harmonica), Tash Neal (rhythm guitar), Johnny Griparic (bass) and Michael Jerome (drums). And with the festival’s name bearing an acronym for Solidarity, Engagement, Restore, Peace, Equality N’ Tolerance, the event also supported various charities.

This endeavour is clearly more serious for Slash than his ’90s bar days, of course – but he is still focused on fun. “I’m not trying to be a ‘blues guy’,” he says. “A lot of rock guys do that, where they’re rock players and then suddenly they discover they’re blues guys [laughs]. I’m just doing an interpretation of stuff that really had a massive impact and influence on me when I first picked up the instrument.”

Blues has always been integral to your playing, but your live album, Live At The S.E.R.P.E.N.T. Festival, is a different level.

You hit the nail on the head. When I started playing guitar, there were a lot of blues-oriented rock ’n’ roll guys from the ’60s and early ’70s who were my first influences. But I got turned on to B.B. King right around that time by my grandmother, who was sick and tired of hearing me listen to all these blues guys [laughs].

She goes, ‘No, this is the real deal,’ so she really opened that door – the correlation between guys like Eric Clapton and where they got it all from. So it’s always been a major root of my playing.

And then, with different things going on in the ’80s, I incorporated my influence into playing with different kinds of musicians. When Guns N’ Roses came together, that was really an amalgamation of a lot of different styles that made that band. But, for me, the core of it is all the blues stuff.

Do you see playing the blues as very different from playing heavy rock?

I just approach the blues the way I approach rock ’n’ roll: I play for feel. And I’m not what you call a huge blues purist or any of that kind of thing; I just do what I do. But it’s a lot of fun and a great release for me. Back in the ’90s, we put together this band called The Blues Ball, which was a glorified cover band.

We played around LA and then it turned into sort of a bar-circuit touring band. I was out of Guns N’ Roses when I did this, and I was in between solo projects, so this was a great sort of fun filler for me.

Fast-forward a bunch of years, I’m back in Guns N’ Roses and we had a break between legs. I thought, ‘You know, I’d really like to go and record some of those songs with those guys.’ So I called them up and we put together a bunch of those songs that we used to play, plus a couple of other ones, and made Orgy Of The Damned.

While recording the recent live album, and on your blues tour in general, you used a lot of gear that we don’t see with Guns N’ Roses. Does the blues bring that out in you?

Definitely. While making Orgy Of The Damned, I used a Magnatone combo that I just happened to have, which actually opened a whole door for me. And I switched amp companies [from Marshall] because of that M-80 combo that I had lying around. Then I broke out a lot of vintage guitars for this because I had an idea in mind of the kind of sounds I wanted.

I picked up [a Gibson ES-335] maybe a year prior from Norm’s [Norman’s Rare Guitars] in the San Fernando Valley. So I pulled that out and I had a Strat, a Tele and a couple of old Les Pauls. I had an Explorer, a Firebird… That’s what I used to record the record.

To do the tour, I didn’t take all of those vintage guitars out, but [used] facsimiles – Custom Shop reissues of said guitars. But I did have a 335 from there, which was really probably the go-to guitar for the whole tour and the live record, along with a couple of Firebirds.

The Firebirds, with the P-90s, or whatever you call those – the mini-humbuckers, which are kind of like single coils – are great. And I only used two Les Pauls on the tour, a Standard and a ’59 reissue. The Explorer that I had on tour was a ’58 replica, which was an amazing-sounding guitar. I recorded Born Under A Bad Sign with that and took it on tour.

Oh, and I had a Travis Bean for slide, and a Jackson pedal steel that I used for [It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A] Train To Cry. That covered it. That stuff, with the Magnatone M-80 2x12 combos, was the sound.

Considering you’d used Marshall amps for so long, what caught your ear with the Magnatone?

It was a big deal for me. When we went in to do the record and started pre-production, I started jamming these arrangements and I just didn’t want to use my normal Marshall sound. I had a couple of Fender Twins, a couple of Fender Deluxes, a Vox half-stack, and a vintage Vox combo. I did have my old 50-watt Marshall with me – and I had that M-80 Magnatone.

What happened was, I went, ‘Okay, we’re going to do this song…’ and I imagined in my mind, ‘Let’s try this amp and this guitar.’ I went through different amps and when I got to the Magnatone, which had been given to me but I’d never used before, I ended up using it for every song.

And now, you’re using it live for your blues tunes, and with Guns N’ Roses.

It was a big revelation because it gave me the sort of power that I wanted, but it gave me a kind of clarity. I think I was starting to get tired – as much as I hate to say it – of the very predictable Marshall sound, which I’m sort of known for… but it was starting to wear on me.

I’d been using Marshall for so long that I’d never listened to anything else. I never gave anything else a shot because it didn’t have the Marshall mid-punch, this or that. But something about the Magnatone really worked and so I recorded with it, and when we did the tour, I just took those out and it really worked.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, I actually replaced my Marshalls on the next Guns N’ Roses tour with the Magnatones and that became my thing. I got together with Magnatone a little later and we designed the 100-watt [SL-100] model, which is what I’m using now.

You’ve noted being known for a specific tone, but you’re on stage paying homage to the likes of Peter Green, Albert King and other heavy hitters, while also being a notable player yourself. That’s a delicate balance to strike.

Right! Well, this is a renaissance period for blues guitar. There are so many really amazing purist blues guitarists, like, very well studied, very educated, great musicians going out there and doing a lot of blues stuff. I think we’re in a period for the blues now, more so than it has been in the last 20 years. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a renaissance.

But anyway, I just do what it is that I do. I don’t try to take it too seriously. That’s one of the reasons why some borderline corny covers have been done so many times in this performance. The whole thing is about the huge stepping stones for what I do, and I wanted to cover them. I just try to keep the melodies intact and honour the original compositions.

We took those and then just did our own thing and really didn’t think about anything else. The guys in my band, this is what they do for a living. They play with Walter Trout, so they’re those guys – blues guys. I get to do what I do on top of that, so it’s fun.

Listening to the live record, it’s clear that you had a blast on tour. Is there more blues in your future?

Right now, I’m juggling being on the road with Guns N’ Roses and doing some recording. I’ve got a new record with the Conspirators that’s already done, coming out at the top of 2027, and then, somewhere, I’m going to try to figure out where I can do another blues record.

There are some really cool tracks that I would like to go after with that, so I’m trying to figure out a window to do that. We need to take this to Europe because there’s a big demand.

• Slash’s Live At The S.E.R.P.E.N.T. Festival album and concert film are out now via EarMusic.
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

The following excerpt is taken from The Original Punk – Jeff Beck Stories: From Yardbird to the Guitar Shop by Steve Rosen.

Sometime around mid-December 1974, Mick Taylor left the Rolling Stones. He had been in the band since June 1969 and played on their most legendary albums: Let It Bleed; Get Yer Ya Ya’s Out; Sticky Fingers; Exile on Main Street; Goats Head Soup; and It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll. Despite being part of the world’s biggest rock and roll band, Taylor couldn’t take another day.

“If I’d just been content to be a side man and make a lot of money,” Mick Taylor divulged, “I’d have stayed where I was, but I wasn’t content. There’s always something more I wanted to express and more I wanted to do. I went through a few years, which were kind of a bit of a wasteland, where I lost my sense of direction and my spiritual needs completely.”

Down one guitar player, the Stones put out the call. Jeff answered. “I got a call from Keith Richards,” Beck recalled. “He acted like he had known me for 20 years. He asked me to come over and play and I thought it meant just kill a weekend. So, I thought, ‘Well, it would be nice to spend a couple of days in Rotterdam [Holland].’

“I went over there and I found out they wanted me to join; I couldn’t believe that. I mean the money was tempting; I could have made a fortune and not ever have to work again. But I would have been half-dead, and my reputation would have been shot. I think things have worked out better this way; I couldn’t be happier really.”

Assuredly, his relationship with Jagger and the Stones was a love/hate thing. “I have this affection for them in a funny sort of way,” the sometimes Mick Jagger lookalike mused. “I don’t like their music at all ‘cause they were pirates; they pirated the whole thing.

“Eel Pie Island [island in the River Thames, which featured the Eel Pie Island Hotel, where everybody from the Yardbirds, the Tridents, John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, the Who and the Rolling Stones performed during their nascent days] was my first introduction to this dreadful scene.

“I had a little combo from Richmond [the Tridents], but they were good though. The guy used to play the harmonica like Little Walter, and he was an unbelievable blues player and a little drummer who was 18 or 17 or something. Every group knew every other group by name and by every sort of detail; there was a hot interest then.

“I suppose it’s like if you invented something right now and it swept the nation; you’d be hot for it because it’s something you were part of from the beginning.”

When Beck quipped, “I don’t like their music at all,” what he actually meant was, “I have no respect for them whatsoever.” When questioned how he felt about the Stones going out on the Steel Wheels/Urban Jungle Tour [1989] when the bandmembers averaged an age of around 45, he responded with typically unfiltered comments. He also took a shot at the Who.

“That’s just ironic,” he mused, “these older guys coming out. It’s nothing to do with me at all. I intended to do this tour way, way back. I don’t know what motivated Pete [Townshend] to go back other than personally to see if they could do it or whether the money had anything to do with it. Or if it was just a fun thing to do for entertainment’s sake. A lot of kids would love to see that while they’re still able.

“Unfortunately, [Keith Moon] Moony isn’t around but [Simon] Phillips is in there and he’ll give them a kick up the ass. I’ve heard four tracks on the Stones’ album [Steel Wheels] and it’s really something. If they’re gonna come out with material like that, then hallelujah.

“If it had been a naff (bad) album, then I would have said for sure they’re doing it just for the money. People want to see them all up there on the stage; they don’t want to see Mick or Keith on their own in some yuppified, designer rock outfit. They want to see the Rolling Stones rolling.”

Several months later in 1986, he teamed up again to assist on Mick Jagger’s second solo album, Primitive Cool. Though he had played on seven of the nine tracks from Jagger’s first album, She’s the Boss, there he was only one amongst a cadre of lead guitarists who played. On the follow-up, he was bumped to the top of the album credits and listed as Lead Guitar: Jeff Beck.

“I did the first Jagger album [She’s the Boss], which was done just for fun, and it sounds like it,” Beck hinted. “It sounds like a good beginning to something really promising. But it was the second album [Primitive Cool] when I realized I was just slotted in as a guest, studio-type guy, and I really didn’t like that.

“I think he [Mick Jagger] had this brainwave that he wanted to put this big show together where he was the star and we were all planetary kinds of people and all [much in the same way as Rod Stewart treated Jeff during their short-lived tour). That didn’t appeal to me.

“I wanted to be in Rolling Stone number two with a tomorrow feel to it; like an experimental Rolling Stones with Jagger singing, and I was sure that’s what he wanted. As time drifted by, I realized he was determined to put these old songs on tape the way he wanted them. He wanted to produce and have a very stylized album, which I didn’t want any part of.”

If Jagger couldn’t have enticed Beck to join the Stones, he could at least have him play in his touring band. Wrong again. “He did say at the beginning of the project that he wanted me to tour as well, and I worked flat-out on the She’s the Boss album and he’d really liked that. It was only halfway through the second project that I started to back out of it.

“He liked what I was doing, but I just didn’t like the way it was going. There was rhythm guitarists every day coming and putting their 10 cents in [Living Colour’s Vernon Reid; the Eurythmics’ Dave Stewart; Jimmy Rip; and Jim Barber]. I just felt like a bump on a log. I walked out of it; there was no way I could handle it.”

• The Original Punk – Jeff Beck Stories: From Yardbird to the Guitar Shop by Steve Rosen is available now from Amazon and Tonechaserbook.com.

There is this whole thing in popular culture right now about relatability. Oh, would you look at them, they’re just like us. He likes pastrami on rye, too! And so on. Blame social media.

But sometimes, oftentimes, our pop-cultural heroes are more spectacular when they appear to have been wired to a different power grid – that there’s a little bit of Planet Krypton to them.

Reassuringly, Chuck Berry is like that, and in a recent interview with Rob Cass for the dopeYEAH talk YouTube show, session great Marc Ribot reminded us of the magic of the Godfather of Rock ’N’ Roll – and he did not disappoint.

Ribot got the privilege of playing alongside Berry when he was playing with the Realtones, the band fronted by Brenda Bergman. Bergman had to take some time out for “a drug problem”.

Thereafter, the Realtones – who were latterly known as The Uptown Hordes – would become a renowned backup band in the late ’80s, playing out of Tramps, in NYC, playing with a rotating cast of R&B greats, including the likes of Rufus Thomas, Solomon Burke and Carla Thomas.

“Because of that, we got to back up Chuck Berry whenever he’d come to town,” says Ribot. “And we took it super-seriously, as well we should have.”

Ribot says when Berry played, something magical happened. He didn’t need too many notes to do it either.

“The thing was that Chuck Berry’s power as a guitarist was such that when he’d play one note, you could see a ripple go out in the audience,” says Ribot. “It was like an electric charge. He had such an amazing economy of play, and an amazing power of playing, and what [Spanish poet, Federico] Garcia Lorca would have called Duende – just this attitude.”

But Berry was notoriously difficult. He was exacting on the guitarists he played with. Just ask Keith Richards. Berry punched him right in the kisser.

Ribot says backing Berry was a test of a player’s nerves, but more than that, it was a test of their dedication to their craft. Every player should know Berry’s guitar parts, front to back.

“It’s like if you’re a preacher, you should know the Bible, and if you’re a rock guitarist, you should know every Chuck Berry solo,” says Ribot. “It’s amazing. We would back him up, and we wrote out all the horn parts. We learned all the horn parts.”

Berry would not always turn up ahead of the show. If he did, the band could run things through with him. If not, they just had to be as prepared as they could be.

“If we're lucky he made it to part of a soundcheck. If we weren't, otherwise he’d just show up at the beginning of the gig, and he would call his tunes in whatever keys he felt like,” says Ribot. “But we were ready. We transposed them.”

The hard work paid off. Berry would haze guitarists who overplayed, who underplayed, who came somewhere in between but still fell short of moving him.

“I was very proud because Chuck was notoriously hard on guitarists,” says Ribot. “He was famous for featuring them, having them stand out front, and saying, ‘Isn’t he fabulous, ladies and gentlemen?’ You know, they clap him. ‘Now get the fuck out of here!’ [Laughs] Happily, I didn’t meet that fate.

“Its a thin line, because a lot of guitarists would go and either be so worshipful that they would want to imitate him exactly, which he didn't like, or they would be saying, ‘Hey, man, I’m gonna show everybody that I can play better than Chuck Berry.’ So they’d do some kind of bullshit hot-dog solo, and he’d say, ‘Get the fuck out of here!’”

Ribot was different. He actually got praise.

“He had kind words to say about my blues playing, which I never forgot,” he says. “So, yeah, it was great.”

You can check out the full interview above and subscribe to the dopeYEAH talk here. And if you think Chuck Berry sounds nuts, then Ribot has some fun stories about Wilson Pickett.

Who would have thought the soul star would be such a riot starter, but there you go. It's like the man said, take your pleasure where you find it.

When Samantha Fish’s stately (and, quite frankly, enormous) tour bus stopped outside the Guitarist studios during her recent UK live dates, the first order of the day was to commiserate with her.

Her latest studio album, Paper Doll, was up for Best Contemporary Blues Album at this year’s Grammy Awards but sadly missed out. However, she was philosophical about the whole experience.

“It was an honour,” she says, “I was really excited and humbled because you got to go. Who knows if it’ll ever happen again? So if you don’t go, you might never get to go. So I went, I dressed up, had fun, had a couple cocktails and it was a great day. And we didn’t end up winning, but being nominated is really the recognition of your art and a nice reassurance that I’m on the right path.”

Samantha’s new live album is called Paper Doll (Live) and it’s something that has been in the pipeline for quite some time, as she explains…

What finally persuaded you to release a live album now?

It’s something my fans have been asking for a long time and I keep telling them, ‘Yeah, we’re going to do it,’ and then five years later, they’re like, ‘She’s still not doing it…’

It’s a timing thing with live records, but I felt like it was a good time because we recorded this last [studio] record, Paper Doll, with my touring band and so, I know it sounds stupid, but, to me, it felt live. A lot of studio albums have dynamics and everything, but we had something on this last record.

We didn’t play with a click track, so we’re changing tempos in the middle of the song, and there’s just something about it that felt really open – it just lends itself to the stage and what we’re doing. I felt like it was a good time to capture it.

Where was it recorded?

“We did it at the Bijou Theatre in Knoxville, Tennessee. It’s an old theatre; the record label chose it because they know it sounds good and looks good. They brought in a camera crew and we had our lights, and we brought in the McCrary Sisters to sing backup vocals. It added an extra layer of dynamics and really beefed up the show and made it special.

Live recording can sometimes add nerves for the performer. How was your experience?

Not only are we recording it, but we’re filming it, too! So, “Try to look natural,’ right? I caught myself a couple times where I was thinking so hard about performing it perfectly that I thought, “You haven’t moved from this spot in, like, half a song. You need to just play your damn show!” You have to take it out of your mind a little bit.

For me, it’s about connecting with the audience. Anytime I’m feeling like, “Oh God, oh God…” I try to find a person that looks like they’re having a good time and [tell myself] “Okay, this is what I’m here to do – entertain that person, so forget about all this other stuff.”

It’s just hard, you know, because you want it to be perfect and I was taking notes as I was going and I really screwed up a song that night. At the end of the night I came out and said, “Hey, we’re gonna do it again, so just pretend to be as enthusiastic as you were the first time!” Everybody’s understanding and there’s a little freedom in that.

When you tell people you’re making a live record, they’re a little more open to you repeating songs; it’s hard to nail it in one shot. Things go wrong, guitars fall out of tune, singers don’t sing in key. I’m the singer and I’m the guitar player. The band sounded great, I was the one with the most problems. It’s hard to accept that when you’re a perfectionist, but you have to.

You’ve been using Gibson SGs live and in the studio for quite a lot of your career. What’s the attraction?

I find that the SG is the most versatile guitar in my whole arsenal. Some people might disagree and think, ‘No, it can only sound a certain way.’ But I feel like I can just apply it to a range of songs and I can shape the tone in a way.

And, honestly, it’s also my most comfortable guitar. The way the neck feels… I just feel the most comfortable playing it. When I stretch out on solos and everything, it fits my personality.

When I first got it, it just felt like me, and I’ve had [the one I’m using live] since 2015. I’ve relic’d it myself, you know, through the sweat and everything, just playing it – I didn’t actually take any tools to it. I really love this guitar. It feels good in my hands. It’s expressive when I need it to be. I can tame it when I need to. And it looks cool.

What drew you to the Gibson SG in the first place?

I don’t know how or why I landed on the SG. I guess sometimes you’re just naturally called to things. But I kind of chalk it up to three things: Angus Young, Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Derek Trucks. They can all make them sound good, so I was hoping I could, too.

What pedals are you using on your ’board for the current live show?

I’m probably gonna get 150 guitarists telling me how I’m doing this wrong, but this is just what works for me. [My ’board is] a hot mess, but it’s been working for a long time. I generally go into my volume pedal first and I use that [for] volume swells. I really love pedal steel [effects] and I’ll do that in solos.

I see a lot of guitar players do that with their volume control, but they’re kind of far away from me on most guitars, you know? So I haven’t found a comfortable way to do that and pull it off effortlessly. So that’s a good way to cheat. Then I go into a tuner, a [TC Electronic] PolyTune; you know, it works.

Then I go into an Analog Man King Of Tone, which is probably my favourite, heaviest-relied-upon pedal. It sounds like a tube amp. The next one was a gift: it’s called Jail Guitar Doors [MXR JGD1 Drive], and it’s the MC5 drive pedal my tour manager gave me because we play Kick Out the Jams.

I’m a big MC5 fan. It’s a massive pedal with a single button, so you don’t have many options.

My next one would be the JHS Mini Foot Fuzz, this tiny little fuzz pedal that sounds crazy. I generally try to turn the volume up and I keep the fuzz around one o’clock so it doesn’t get too muddy. I go into the MXR Carbon Copy analogue delay, which is also a favourite. Then I’ve got my [Electro-Harmonix] Nano Pog, which is an octave [pedal]. Fun, weird stuff.

I like to use it on Black Wind Howlin’ and a couple other songs. Then we go into the [Boss TR-2] Tremolo, which is a new one for me. I got it for the song Don’t Say It. Then a [Boss PS-5] Super Shifter, which I use very minimally, really only for divebombs, though I know it’s got a million uses.

You have a new guitar on tour with you at present. Tell us about your sparkly ES-335.

I’ve wanted a 335 for several years, but when it comes to picking out and purchasing a guitar, I wait until one comes along, then I’m like, “That. I need that.” My friend Mike Zito had a sparkly Firebird and I was like, “Oh, that’s beautiful, where’d you get it?” [He said], “You need to go check out this guitar shop in St Louis.’

And they had all these Custom Shop sparkly 335s and pretty much every kind of Gibson. I saw this one and I had to have it. It looks like a disco ball and I just knew it would look great with my wardrobe and our lights.

You know, you kind of see the whole picture like it’s gonna fit right in. And I knew what they sound like, and you kind of hope that it’s gonna feel and play great. But, I mean, you can’t go wrong. I pulled it right out of the box and it played great.

It’s a Gibson Custom Shop. It’s a beautiful guitar. I’ve been wanting one of these for a long time because I really like how dark they can get, how resonant they are when you’re playing – and they just scream. I can get a lot of feedback with the amp, like really controlled feedback when I need it, and it just has great tone. I love it.

How does it differ from the SG?

It’s definitely got more body to it. The SG, as much as I like it, I beef it up with pedals and with amplifiers. This one, I almost have to tame it. You just have to approach things a little differently – like I can come out and throw on my crazy MC5 pedal, turn the amp all the way up with the SG and I’ve still got to work to keep the thickness of it.

With this one, if I plugged it in with that same kind of effect, it’d be screaming – a lot of feedback and everything. So there’s a little bit of a taming thing [going on]. But knowing where this threshold is it just gives you a lot of dynamics to play with. So one’s not better than the other; you’ve just got to approach it a little differently

Do you think that touring and playing live is getting easier for you?

Certain things get easier. You know, the way that we started travelling in a [tour] bus. So that’s easier in some ways. But then a new challenge will arise: so this is easier in this way, but this thing is a little more complicated, you know? That’s just life, right?

But I’m still in it. I try not to do things the hardest way possible, but sometimes you’ve got to get to the gig, you’ve got to make it happen. The travel sometimes can be a little bit daunting and exhausting, but I’m still down for it.

• Paper Doll (Live) is out now via Rounder.
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

Bob Dylan has had some serious lineup changes over the past few weeks.

After Julian Lage sneakily replaced Doug Lancio at Dylan’s Santa Barbara show on June 17, and second guitarist Bob Britt quit with a “Sayonara Bobby” post on social media, Dylan fans were left wondering who would join his rotating roster of guitarists.

Turns out, it wasn’t too long before we got the answer, as Chicago-based blues guitarist Joel Paterson made his debut with Dylan’s band on June 29 at the Moody Amphitheater in Austin.

Up until last week, Paterson held a weekly residency at Chicago’s historic Green Mill Cocktail Lounge with his jazz quartet. Just two days ago, he went from playing to a crowd of 150 to performing for 5,000 alongside the Bard.

While it’s unclear how acquainted Paterson was with Dylan’s complete repertoire before he landed the gig, he did have a previous relationship with at least some of his songs, having played pedal steel on If Not for You, To Ramona, When to See the Gypsy, and Tell Me That It Isn’t True on alt-country and indie folk band The Cactus Blossoms’ Bob Dylan Songs Vol. 1 EP.

Paterson has been a mainstay of the Chicago roots music scene for over two decades.

Aside from his new gig with Dylan, his current projects include The Joel Paterson Quartet and The Western Elstons. He’s also an accomplished studio musician, having played with the likes of JD McPherson, Kelly Hogan, Pokey LaFarge, and Deke Dickerson.

As for Britt, following his public post announcing his departure, his wife, Etta Britt, took to Facebook to clear the air that he didn’t leave because of Julian Lage.

“Julian has gone back to his tour. He enjoyed playing with him and said he’s a great guy.”

Lage’s representatives confirmed with Rolling Stone that the jazz virtuoso will continue playing with Dylan this year – at least when his schedule permits. Comparing the pair's gig calendars for the coming weeks, it looks like Lage may make every show except the July 4 date.

Guitar World reached out to Joel Paterson with a request for comment about his new gig.

Growing up with a Broadway-singer father, whose musician friends were frequent visitors to the family home, meant a strong foundation for Eric Bibb’s eventual musical path.

The road ahead was a done deal when a school friend introduced him to influential artists such as Junior Wells, Buddy Guy, Leadbelly, Howlin’ Wolf and Muddy Waters, and soon Eric was on course to become one of the most celebrated country blues artists around today.

Three times Grammy-nominated, Eric’s albums are a masterclass in how the country blues genre can glide smoothly over to a modern audience. With velvet vocals and enviable fingerstyle, his music has become celebrated worldwide.

Recently, his enthusiasm for seeking out new instruments to play on stage has led Eric to discover the rebirth of an old acoustic guitar brand, and an instrument he’s keen to share with us.

Tell us about your new acoustic guitar.

This is a fairly new friend that’s come into the family. It’s a Larson Brothers OM model. The Larson brothers were two Swedish brothers [Carl and August] who immigrated to the States in the late 1800s. They made great guitars – I think Stefan Grossman might have one or two of theirs, they’re hard to find these days.

But not so long ago, I think a company based in Germany acquired the rights to use the Larson Brothers logo and they [iMusicnetwork, founded by Toni Götz, together with Nikolaus ‘Klaus’ Eilken, founder of Thomas Guitars] are making really high-end guitars, and this is one of my favourite guitars to tour with. I have another model that’s all mahogany, but this is a spruce top. Just a lovely, lovely instrument.

How did you discover the Larson Brothers’ guitars?

Well, I was in Paris looking around for guitars and I spotted a Larson Brothers – the old mahogany one that I mentioned – in a shop window and the look of it just drew me in. I went in, I played it and I bought it. Then they got in contact and said, ‘Wow, we’re really pleased that you’re enchanted with our instruments.’

That first one was made by a known luthier, his name is Maurice Dupont. He makes mostly Maccaferri-type guitars, but he made that flat-top guitar and I loved it. The Larson Brothers company knows what I like. They sent me this guitar and I didn’t send it back.

Is the OM a good body size for you?

Yes, I’m not really a dreadnought type of guy; I like smaller body guitars. OM is a good size for me, or parlour guitars, you know? But this is about perfect for me.

What other instruments do you have on tour?

It’s always a challenge deciding what to bring. I have a lot of guitars. I have guitars I’ve toured with, guitars that are really precious, and I’m a little reticent about taking on the road because they go through a lot. I have the other Larson Brothers guitar, the all-mahogany one, which is tuned down a half step, so E is Eb.

I also have a thin hollowbody Takamine, another interesting guitar, which is tuned down a whole tone – this is just to accommodate my changing vocals. So, you know, songs I play in the 1st position, if I find my voice has dropped, then I need a guitar that’s a whole tone lower.

So I have one guitar in standard or drop D, I have another one half a tone down, and I have another one a whole tone down. Those three guitars more or less take care of what I need.

Do you have an amp on stage or do you go direct into the PA?

I go through a DI. In the past I’ve used – as my own kind of side monitor – a Roland Jazz Chorus amplifier. My sound guy prefers the direct signal because then he can do what he wants with it out front. It was a bit of a crutch leaning on that amplifier by my side, but I just discovered that, actually, if the monitors are proper, then I don’t really need it. It’s enough to have just two wedges in front of me and a direct DI.

What pickup do you have in the Larson Brothers OM?

I’m using the Blackstack by Fishman. I’ve had all kinds of soundhole pickups through the years, the Sunrise kind of started out as being the de rigueur option. It’s a heavy pickup and I found that even though the sound quality was great, the independent standalone power box was difficult for changing batteries.

I prefer a pickup where I don’t have to think about battery changes; you don’t want to be in the middle of a tune and it dies on you. So this is passive and it works.

I’m not really after a pure acoustic sound. Everybody’s wanting to find the pickup, either bridge pickup or soundhole pickup, that really gives you the true sound of an acoustic guitar.

I find, if I want that, I’ll just stick a great microphone in front of the guitar, you know? But in a situation where I’m with a band on stage with a drummer, that is challenging, so you want a pickup that’s going to break through all of that.

This is the best solution I have. And with a magnetic pickup there’s a kind of liquid sound that you get when it’s through the DI; it’s a little bit more fluid than just the sound you would get from a microphone, and that seems to suit my own stage sound. But in the studio I’ll often just have great microphones in front of the guitar.

Do you use any outboard effects on stage?

I used to. I used to use some chorus stuff and tremolo. But I’m really not a gear-oriented guitar player, so I had the most simple pedalboard with my Boss tuner. Maybe I’ll have an A/B switcher if I feel like I need to do something like that. But, lately, I like a really stripped-down situation where I don’t have to think about it.

And I have a great sound guy out front, so I trust him. I usually have another guitarist with me in the band and they have pedalboards to die for. I don’t know how they keep up with all this stuff, but I guess if that’s your thing, you figure out a way. But they’re like a ballet dancer, you know?

You had classical guitar lessons when you were young. How do you think that might have influenced your acoustic guitar technique?

What it told me right from the start was that the guitar really can be an orchestra, and if you use your thumb and three fingers on your right hand, you can arpeggiate and you can create all kinds of different sounds and textures.

It really helped me when I started discovering fingerpicking – you know, [Mississippi] John Hurt kind of stuff. I started out with Carcassi [Matteo Carcassi, 1792 to 1853, author of arpeggio studies still in use today], so all of that stuff sort of came together at a certain point.

When I really focused on my own style of playing, I knew I wanted to fingerpick, I knew I wanted to arpeggiate. So all of that has come into my technique. I tried fingerpicks at one point, and thumbpicks, but they’d fly off. I’d get excited and sweaty, and they’d just fly off.

But Ry Cooder once said there is really no better tool for the guitar than your right hand. There are so many ways you can approach the guitar with just your bare hands. I do have acrylic nail enhancement on three nails of my right hand because I found that, without it, I’m risking breaking a nail and then things get kind of complicated.

I discovered the hard way that if I chipped a nail in the middle of a show, it was really going to affect my playing in a negative way. And you can cover your nails with hard polish, but I find that the best thing for me is the acrylic. I’m not sure it’s really great for your health, but you sacrifice all for art.

Have you ever experimented with slide?

I love the textures that you can get and the sound, especially if you’re into country blues like I am. The slide sound is a part of the vocabulary, but I’ve never been one to dive deep into that. It’s almost like a separate universe. But I’ve always had guitarists close to me from very early days who were proficient at slide and bottleneck playing.

I’m on tour at the moment with Robbie McIntosh, who’s a master. He not only has the whole country blues vocabulary of bottleneck guitar and slide, he’s just so lyrical, he’s so fluid and melodic. There are a few players who have mastered it to that level. He’s one of them, but there are not that many.

He’s exceptional as a slide player and a player in general. I tend to be happiest when I have a really fine second guitarist in the band who has a huge understanding of blues first of all, but who is also familiar with other harmonies, jazz harmonies and that kind of thing.

Do you ever play electric guitars or hollowbody jazz instruments?

Well, I’m really not an electric guitar player. I find that the electric guitar is almost a separate species, you know? I have an old Danelectro solidbody that Hubert Sumlin signed the back of, so I love that guitar. I did a video of a song called This One Don’t and you can see that guitar. It was given to me by a wonderful bass player, Dave Bronze, as a birthday gift long ago.

But I play electric guitars like I play my acoustic guitars, I fingerpick them. I’ve never played with a plectrum, you know? I’ve never really mastered or even really been attracted to that style of playing, although I have band members who are wonderful players on electric guitar and who play with their fingers but also are masters of the pick.

I do love older jazz big-body guitars. If I had an Epiphone Emperor, that big, beautiful blonde guitar that they made in the ’30s, I’d hold on to that. But, yeah, a great acoustic guitar is the way to go for me.

• One Mississippi is out now via Repute Records.
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

As a guitarist that plays a lot of blues, I find myself performing many different kinds of shuffles, from slow to medium to fast. One of my all-time favorite blues recordings is Steppin’ Out, as covered by John Mayall on Blues Breakers with Eric Clapton. (The original version is by Memphis Slim and features Matt “Guitar” Murphy, of The Blues Brothers fame, on guitar.)

Steppin’ Out is a hard-driving medium-up shuffle in the key of G, and Clapton’s guitar playing on that track is just incredible. He plays with so much fire and creativity, as well as this distinctly youthful British exuberance.

Figure 1 is a two-bar phrase along the lines of the signature lick in Steppin’ Out. It’s played in the key of G and is based on the G minor pentatonic scale (G, Bb, C, D, F), with an abundance of quarter- , half- and whole-step bends on the G string.

I love the way Eric draws from his Freddie King influence, in terms of his melodic phrasing and articulation, as demonstrated in the pickup bar and bar 1 of Figure 2, into the Freddie-style reverse-rake “slurs” at the end of bar 2 into bar 3. Throughout the example, notice all of the subtle, expressive bends on the top three strings.

In bars 8-12, the melody and phrasing is so simple – just swinging eighth notes – but the lines are delivered in a way that is also a nod to the great T-Bone Walker, in the use of hammer-ons from the minor 3rd, Bb, to the major 3rd, B, as well as the inclusion of the 2nd, or 9th, A.

In bar 12 into bar 13, I switch to G major pentatonic (G, A, B, D, E), moving back into G minor pentatonic in bar 16. In bar 17, I play a series of D notes on the B string, all on the eighth-note upbeats, that are bent in increasing increments, ending with a one‑and-a-half-step bend that is shaken. In bars 19 through the end of the example, I move freely between G minor and major pentatonic ideas.

Clapton also loves to go up high on the neck and hit you with aggressive unison bends on the top two strings, a la the phrases that kick off Figure 3. This lick begins with F, at the 18th fret on the B string, bent up a whole step to G while a G note at the 15th fret on high E string is strummed together with the B string, ultimately adding aggressive vibrato to the unison bend.

The remainder of the example is played in the 15th-position G minor pentatonic box and features fast hammer-ons and pull-offs as well as vocal-like, wide and fast vibratos.

When soloing over a shuffle like this, it’s wise to hold back some ideas at first, so that you don’t play everything you know in the first chorus! Take your time, hold and shake some notes and let the solo build in a musically natural way. Follow your stream of consciousness and use dynamics to tell a musical story.

Just about every blues show I attended in the ’80s and ’90s started with an uptempo shuffle like Steppin’ Out, and the Mayall-Clapton version is a great vehicle for learning what blues soloing is all about.

• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

Laura Cox accidentally embarked on a fully fledged career after she started posting classic rock guitar covers on YouTube 18 years ago and went viral.

She’s now a bona fide touring and recording artist, with three albums under her belt. But as she herself admits, the transition from YouTube to recording her own material in a professional studio was trickier than she expected, or, in her own words, “a nightmare”.

“I was around 15 when I started playing the guitar. Then, two or three years afterwards, I was really into watching YouTubers playing covers of classic rock solos, and it was really motivating for me,” she tells Guitarist. “I thought, ‘Okay, I’m gonna do the same. I’m gonna post and maybe get some feedback.’

“A lot of the comments were really positive, really encouraging and motivating. But there was also a few criticising my looks, or almost sexual harassment. But, honestly, for me, it was the internet, it was not real life.”

Around 2014, Cox put a band together, and, thanks to her notoriety on YouTube, she managed to find a label and a booker – a move that led her to release her first studio album, Hard Blues Shot, in 2017.

“It was a nightmare,” she replies when asked about dipping her toes into the recording arena. “Because my only experience of music was playing guitar in my room in front of a webcam where I was alone, so I could re-record and re-record.

“But playing in the studio, recording an album with a band and engineers, and every second is costing me money, I was really stressed,” Cox continues. “We had a lot of technical difficulties; the gear was falling apart, and nothing was working.

“I was kind of going into depression after the first studio recording because we couldn’t see the end. Every day we were thinking, ‘Okay, we’re late on the schedule; we still have to record this and this,’ and it was never-ending.”

Thankfully, things got better over the years, and as she – and the rest of the band – gained more studio experience, she even discovered the joy of self-producing on her latest album, Trouble Coming.

“I didn’t record it this way in the studio. I recorded a lot at home, and it felt way more comfortable.”

For more from Laura Cox, plus new interviews with Jeff Tweedy and Brian Robertson, pick up the new issue of Guitarist from Magazines Direct.

Gear damaged during flights is an unfortunate reality for touring bands. However, gear damaged during pre-flight checks, well, that’s another story altogether.

According to the Boston-based blues band GA-20 – comprised of guitarist Matthew Stubbs, lead vocalist/guitarist Cody Nilsen, and drummer Josh Kiggans – one of their high-end guitar cases got damaged thanks to a particularly enthusiastic TSA agent at San Luis Obispo County Regional Airport in California.

“Big shout out to this fine TSA @tsaamerica agent at San Luis Obispo airport who insisted that taking everything out of my @monocreators guitar case and swabbing it wasn’t enough,” the band writes on social media, accompanied by an actual video of the ordeal.

“He then spent 20 minutes ripping out all of the padding/stuffing from the case and of course he was unable to put it back together. To top it off we all have TSA Pre check & this agent refused to run the case through xray until he ripped all the padding out of the case. The gig bag is trash now. ($380 case) Good news they gave me a business card and said if I have a complaint feel free to email.”

Safe to say, a multitude of musicians pitched in with similar experiences. Guthrie Trapp noted, “This is f*cking insanity!! Worst ‘case’ of this I’ve ever seen,” while singer/songwriter Bones Owens commented, “I had two guitars destroyed by baggage handlers on a flight earlier this year.. different situation, with a similar disrespect for musicians’ livelihood while traveling by air.

“There seems to be a lack of common sense, a lack of consequences, and mostly a lack of care. Sorry to see this happen to your gear, but thanks for sharing it here. It’s the best thing we can do to spread awareness and hopefully illicit [sic] some change.”

As for TSA itself, its policy states that, “Musical instruments must undergo screening when transported as carry-on or in checked baggage. Musical instruments transported as carry-on require a physical inspection at the security checkpoint. Inform the TSA officer if your instrument requires special care and handling. You may pack brass instruments in your checked or carry-on baggage.”

In more recent news, a clip posted to TikTok – with more than four million views – has sparked outrage after footage of a baggage handler carelessly throwing guitars on the ground went viral.

Fresh off the announcement of his Marshall endorsement, Jared James Nichols is taking it back to his roots – and by that, we mean the very reason he decided to ditch the pick and play fingerstyle exclusively, in a journey that took him from rural Wisconsin to world stages.

“I remember the first guitar I picked up, I picked it up, and I wanted to play it like a lefty. The first real guitar I got, though, the guy at the store was ‘Dude, flip the guitar, you're holding it wrong,” he says in his new Gibson documentary, The Long Road: A Jared James Nichols Documentary.

“He was like, ‘If you want to be a real guitar player and play really good guitars, you got to play righty. They don't really make great left-handed guitars.’”

Nichols was 15 at the time, and while he quickly got used to his newly purchased right-handed guitar, one thing that felt unnatural to him was playing it with a pick.

“It was fucking me up,” he says matter-of-factly, “and I needed to feel the strings under my fingers. I started to play without a pick, and I distinctly remember people telling me, ‘Man, it's never gonna work, you're never gonna be a great guitar player without a pick.’”

Discovering “guys like Jeff Beck and Mark Knopfler and Derek Trucks,” was the epiphany that he needed to stick to his own unique brand of fingerstyle playing.

“I was like, ‘Well, they do it,’ and then I just started to kind of do it my own way. No one taught me how to do it. I just said I don’t care. I’m just gonna try and see what happens. And what ended up happening was, I started to develop my own sound and technique with it, and I’m so happy now that I did.”

In one of his Guitar World columns, Nichols broke down his one-of-a-kind fingerstyle technique and waxed lyrical about the players who inspired him.

“Fingerpicking felt like the most natural approach. I use my thumb for downstrokes and my first three fingers for upstrokes,” he wrote.

“There was one player in particular who inspired me the most in regard to playing fingerstyle, and that was blues legend Hubert Sumlin, who was known most notably for his work with Howlin’ Wolf.

“When I heard Hubert play, it changed the way I approached the guitar. Then I heard Albert King, Derek Trucks, and Mark Knopfler, all fingerpickers. All these players demonstrated the incredible range of sounds available when fingerpicking.”

As the ultimate gear aficionado, Joe Bonamassa and tube amps go hand in hand – with his legion of Dumble amps, 1950s Fender tweeds, vintage Marshalls, boutique builds and even Gary Moore’s Soldano gracing the halls of Nerdville West and East.

And while Bonamassa is largely analog through and through, the blues maestro may very well be changing his tune, or, at least, warming up to the possibility of incorporating more digital gear in his roster, as he was recently spotted brandishing a Fender Tone Master amp on tour.

Bonamassa even went as far as sharing a photo of his signature Fender ’59 High Powered Twin alongside a tweed-covered Fender Tone Master Twin – part of the Fender range that aims to bring its classic amps into the digital realm.

So what spurred this change? “I’ve got to be honest with you and admit when I’m wrong,” Bonamassa tells MusicRadar.

“I still have my other tube amps behind me. It’s just that the high-powered Twin is now a Tone Master. When I first plugged into it, I realised this shit’s good. I wanted to dislike it, I really wanted to dislike it! But I couldn’t.

“My production manager, my sound tech, even my other guitar player Josh Smith – they were all telling me it sounds better and feels right. And I was like, ‘I know!’”

While Bonamassa admits defeat, he does mention that there’s one thing that convinced him that going digital still fits his ethos. Turns out, it’s a deal breaker…

“I think the trick at this point is to be physically pushing out sound,” he says. “You have to be moving air. By having the right speakers, the Tone Master works. It’s not like I’m plugging into a direct box, which I could, but I don’t think that would sound good.

“That’s where a lot of this digital modeling stuff can start sounding a little generic. With a lot of the things out there, you’re not moving air, and the dynamic range is limited. For me, moving air is essential, just like playing loud,” he concludes.

At nearly 90 years old, Buddy Guy is still carrying the torch for the blues and remains a guiding force for current and future generations of blues players.

Fresh off his cameo in Ryan Coogler's highly lauded film Sinners, Guy’s legacy is continuing to be celebrated, as Blackbird Presents and Live Nation are teaming up to organize Buddy’s Got the Blues: A 90th Birthday Concert Celebration.

The event, taking place on October 1 at the iconic Radio City Music Hall in New York City, is set to be a one-night-only event with collaborations, performances, and heartfelt tributes from artists influenced by Guy’s work.

The all-star lineup includes a veritable list of legends and blues virtuosos: Eric Clapton, John Mayer, Susan Tedeschi & Derek Trucks, Jon Batiste, Aloe Blacc, Joe Bonamassa, Gary Clark Jr., Shemekia Copeland, Robert Cray, Samantha Fish, Eric Gales, Billy F Gibbons, Ivan Neville, Robert Randolph, Bobby Rush, Isaiah Sharkey, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Jimmie Vaughan, Ally Venable, Willie Weeks, and Kim Wilson.

More artists and special guests are set to be announced soon, and the man himself, Buddy Guy, will (of course) also perform, proving that he's still got the blues.

Current Rolling Stones drummer Steve Jordan serves as the musical director.

Speaking about the event, Guy says, “Can't wait to celebrate 90 years of living, loving, and playing the blues with all my friends. We’ll make it a night not just for me, but for the folks who taught us, the friends we’ve played with, and the ones coming up behind us.”

In a recent interview with Guitar Player, the blues icon has explained why he’s not giving up touring just yet, as he prepares to hit the road on July 15, starting at Massey Hall in Toronto.

“I thought about retiring twice,” he says. “But, y’know, I thought about all those great blues players who are no longer with us – B.B. King. Lightnin’ Hopkins, all those guys – and they used to tell me, ‘You need to keep playing and keep representing the blues,’ ’cause they don’t play it on radio or anything anymore.

“So I said to myself, ‘Well, Buddy, you better hang on a little longer. My health ain’t doing too bad, so I’m still doing what I’ve always done. Every time I get onstage, just try to play the best I can.”

Tickets go on sale to the general public on June 26 at 10 AM ET. Head to Buddy 90 to find out more.

Guy is set for a very busy rest of the year, having also been announced for this year's edition of Eric Clapton's Crossroads Festival.

Eric Gales is one hell of a guitar player, but he says he kept his talents hidden from his school friends – who had no idea when he signed a six-figure record deal.

Gales was still a teenager when he played with Carlos Santana in front of a staggering number of people at Woodstock ‘94, and has since more than lived up to his child-prodigy reputation throughout a prolific career. He has become one of the greats of modern blues.

But his predilection for making an electric guitar purr was his best-kept secret for a long while.

“I’m a drummer first,” he tells Rick Beato in a new interview. “The percussive aspect of my playing nods to the knowledge of me as a drummer, and in my early junior high years, I was the leader of the percussion section at school.

“I didn’t want nobody in school to know that I knew how to play guitar until I went on the Arsenio Hall Show, and the jig was up.”

Over the years, Gales became a regular on the chat show, first appearing in 1991. On that same show, Carlos Santana, his godfather, later hailed him as the next big guitar player, comparing him to Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan.

But there’s only so much hiding one can do when, as Hall says, you “take the place apart” on national television.

“I didn’t want a lot of new friends, you know?” Gales reasons for his secret guitar skills to Beato. “I didn’t want these people trying to be my friend because of what you think you can get out of me. I’d just signed a quarter-million-dollar record deal at 15 years old.”

So he kept quiet about it until the show aired. Then his life really started to change.

Gales had signed with Elektra Records earlier that year. The Eric Gales Band put out their self-titled debut album in 1991, followed by Picture of a Thousand Faces two years later. Gales hasn’t looked back since.

In other Gales news, the blues titan recently teamed up with Kiesel for an all-new signature guitar and enlisted some of the best players in the business to pay tribute to his late brother, Little Jimmy King, with an all-star album.

Welcome to Guitar World’s weekly gear round-up, your one-stop-shop for keeping up to date with what’s been happening in the big wide world of guitar gear over the past seven days.

From new electric guitars to amp modeler updates, the guitar industry is never short of fresh releases, and it can sometimes be hard to stay in the loop with every new launch.

To make things a little easier, we’ve put together an essential must-read guide that will cover the major releases, the boutique drops, and everything in between.

Below you'll find my personal highlights from the week, along with plenty of honorable mentions for the new gear you might have missed. Agree with my picks? Have a highlight of your own? Let us know in the comments.

Squier Paranormal Series

When team GW visited Fender HQ a few weeks ago to get the skinny on all its upcoming models, I found myself distracted 99.9% of the time because there was one model on display that I couldn’t take my eyes off: the Stratocaster Deluxe.

I am a lifelong Strat player, but I’m also a big Telecaster fan. The Squier Paranormal Stratocaster Deluxe looks to be the best of both worlds. The Tele neck single-coil gives you some T-style twang, while the bridge humbucker brings a bit more beef to the table. There’s even coil-splitting involved. If I could get the pickup configuration in my Strat, I would.

What’s more, I think it looks really cool. Heck, this is a Squier Paranormal series, after all, so of course it’s going to do things a bit differently. It’s a fresh spin on the Strat, with a neat pickguard design and an oversized headstock that is making me hot under the collar. That sunburst model? Phwoar.

Aside from that, the 2026 Squier Paranormal range also includes a Bigsby Troublemaker Tele, Electric VI, Baritone Jazzmaster, and Thinline Precision Bass.

EQD Sunn O))) HalfLife Octave Distortion and Booster

EarthQuaker Devices has unveiled the Sunn O))) HalfLife Octave Distortion and Booster pedal, the latest evolution of the Life Pedal which permanently joins the EQD lineup for the first time ever.

In case you were wondering, that’s very good news indeed. The V1 and V2 versions were released as limited runs. This new version expands on its predecessors, offering the same brutal tones in a more compact footprint.

Fans of doom, noise and experimental rock guitar, this one will probably have your name on it. Dubbed a ‘three-headed sonic beast’, it’s got octave-up fuzz flavors a la Shin-Ei FY2 and FY6 pedals, a classic Rat-style distortion, and a MOSFET clean boost for harmonic saturation and feedback.

It’s one of those pedals where writing about it doesn’t really do it justice. Check out the video above to hear it in action.

Fender Limited Edition Pro Classic Silent

As much as I love my Strat, the hum that comes with single-coils can often be quite tedious. It’s an occupational hazard, I know, and in my opinion it’s totally worth it, but there have been times when I wish they would just pipe down, without resulting to noiseless single-coils. They just aren’t quite the same.

Well, Fender has done something quite clever here, because it has developed what it’s calling the ‘Silent System’, a potentially game-changing approach to single-coil guitars.

The completely passive, patent-pending tech promises to leave tone untouched while eliminating single-coil hum. On paper, it looks like a very good idea, and the fact it’s passive is even better. Details on how exactly it works are quite sparing, so I’ll be investigating further (watch this space).

Whatever the case, it debuted on the new limited Pro Classic Silent range, which comprises a Strat and a Tele – both available in some neat finishes and either maple/rosewood fingerboard options.

Also launched this week…

Fender James Jamerson Precision Bass

Fender pays tribute to one of the most legendary bass guitar players of all time, and recreates his workhorse P Bass.

For more: Fender

Fender Player Fusion Series

A radical, hard-rock spin on Fender’s entry-level MIM electrics, with high-output pickups, ebony fingerboards, Floyd Roses and more.

For more: Fender

Fender Player II finish updates

The Player II range has been treated to a cosmetic update thanks to some new finishes that include the distinctly Silver Sky-esque Cactus Grey...

For more: Fender

Orangewood Dylan Retro, Nash Retro, Brooklyn Retro

New dreadnought, parlor and grand concert acoustics have been added to Orangewood’s ever-growing collection. Side note: I have the rubber bridge one. It rules.

For more: Orangewood

Jackson Pro Rob Cavestany Death Angel

Rob Cavestany of Death Angel has one of the most eye-catching signature Jacksons you’ll come across. Now it’s available in Snow White.

For more: Jackson

Electro-Harmonix Percolator Harmonic Saturator

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Epiphone Inspired by Gibson Custom finishes

New vintage finishes for the Les Paul, Les Paul Special, SG and Firebird models from the Epiphone Inspired by Gibson Custom range. Highlights include Poppy Burst and TV White.

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Epiphone JAY of ENHYPEN SG Tribute

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Coheed and Cambria Evil Instruments Jackhammer guitars

Two new Jackhammer models from Evil Instruments guitars, as founded by Claudio Sanchez of Coheed and Cambria. One of the models is inspired by Jimi Hendrix and the other, er, Phil Lynott…

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Seymour Duncan 'Big Daddy' Philip Sayce Stratocaster pickup set

Philip Sayce returns for another signature Seymour Duncan set, this time recreating the unmistakable tone of his ‘Big Daddy’ Strat.

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Yvette Young's first signature plugin, which might be the only assortment of ambient prog rock tones you'll ever need.

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MXR Wylde Audio Zakk Sabbath

A limited-edition Wylde Audio Overdrive complete with a special purple-and-black finish inspired by Wylde's Zakk Sabbath band.

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• What's your favorite new gear release of the week? Let us know in the comments below.

Keith Richards has looked back on the time a close encounter with one of his guitar heroes didn’t go exactly as planned.

Boil down the Rolling Stones’ music to its core components, and you’ll find nods to the impassioned licks of Howlin’ Wolf and the hip-swinging charm of Chuck Berry. So, when Richards found himself in Chuck Berry’s dressing room early in his career with the Stones, it was a dream come true. Soon, though, he was sent crashing back down to earth.

“He punched me once, years ago, in the ‘60s, I think,” Richards reveals of his meeting with Berry to the Guardian. This would have likely been in 1969, when the Stones, their star rising, toured the US and had Berry as a fill-in opening act on some nights.

“We were in his dressing room, I was having a peek at his guitar, and I was just about to stroke it, and he went: ‘Nobody touches it!’ And bam!”

Chuck Berry’s Gibson ES-355 is the stuff of legend. Richards quickly realized his mistake.

“I would have done the same,” he admits. “I’ve never had to, but then I’ve never caught someone doing that.”

Despite the close encounter, Richards remains effusive in his praise of Berry, who helped shape the Stones sound.

“There’s something about those early records of his,” he says of Berry. “They have an ease about them and a sophistication in a way. I loved his naturalness when he was playing, the way he moved – his whole body became part of the guitar.

“He made me focus on what was possible for me, which made my mother shell out for an electric guitar,” he adds. “I just felt a natural affinity for him, even though he was a cussed bugger!”

Suffice to say, Richards never tried to touch the guitar again. Luckily, he now has his own line of ES-355s that carries more than a little of Berry’s DNA.

The Rolling Stones are set to release their second Andrew Watt-produced album, Foreign Tongues, next month, and Ronnie Wood has been discussing his artful weaving around Richards’ guitar parts ahead of it.

Meanwhile, Joe Perry has thanked Richards for turning him onto the ultimate slide guitar.

Rhys John Stygal, the teenage blues sensation who’s been hailed as the next Stevie Ray Vaughan, is appealing for help after his Number One electric guitar and pedalboard were stolen.

Joe Bonamassa helped the cause, asking fans and followers to keep an eye out for Stygal’s gear, which went missing in Austin, Texas. Jared James Nichols and Kenny Wayne Shepherd have all also shared Stygal’s plea on their own platforms.

“With an absolutely broken heart I need to let you all know that my Number One and my pedal board were stolen in Austin,” Stygal wrote on an Instagram post yesterday (June 17). “The police are aware and Nico [Little, whose band Stygal plays in] is doing his best to search every possible place in Austin while I am in Mississippi.”

Stygal’s Number One is a Three-Color Sunburst Fender Stevie Ray Vaughan Stratocaster. Distinctive marks include Buddy Guy’s signature on the headstock, ‘RJS’ stickers on the pickguard, tape around the middle pickup, and its mismatched bridge saddles.

It also has a picture of SRV behind the bridge springs, a ‘Don’t Mess With Texas’ sticker on the back, and plenty of natural wear and tear on the body finish and neck.

Stygal’s pedalboard, meanwhile, comprises a Boss TU-3, Pedal Pawn Fuzz, Ruby Red Sparkle 40th Anniversary Ibanez TS808, MXR Loop Selector, and Walrus Audio Monuments.

Stygal has previously opened up on how the guitar changed his life, helping him overcome extreme anxiety brought about by his autism. His Number One guitar has been by his side for his whole journey.

“My Number One saved me from my own dark days,” he says. “There are 1000s of hours on that guitar, I learnt everything on it, please could I ask you all to share my post to help find it and get it home.

“I’d be forever grateful, I’ll update this post with all the information of my stolen things as soon as I can.”

In his own post, Bonamassa wrote, “Hey folks.. Let's be on the lookout for Rhys' guitar and pedal board that was stolen yesterday in Austin Texas. Rhys is an incredible guitarist from the UK and a world class bloke to boot.”

Steve Lukather, Gary Clark Jr., Susan Tedeschi and Tomo Fujita have all offered their support to Stygal. A GoFundMe page, which will raise funds for a reward or to replace the stolen gear, has been set up. $1,838 has been raised at the time of writing.

Anyone with information is being asked to email info@elmorepedals.com, or contact Stygal privately. A reward of $1,500 has been offered for the guitar’s return.

Stygal burst on to the scene as a 16-year-old, amassing a huge following thanks to monstrous blues chops that channeled prime SRV.

Visit the GoFundMe page and Rhys John Stygal’s Instagram page for more.

Grace Bowers has announced she's returning to YouTube on her own terms, months after she left the platform.

In April, wunderkind Bowers announced that misogyny had led her to quit YouTube. “Bye YouTube,” she wrote. “I’m deeply uncomfortable with the amount of old men here. I’m no longer interested in playing blues or whatever the hell keeps attracting yall. Im done.”

However, Bowers now seems to be launching a new era. A couple of days ago, the guitarist announced that she’s coming back to the platform, with changes that reflect her growth and reflections on the music industry.

“Let’s try this again huh? I’m making changes,” she writes on her official YouTube community page. “I’m not bothered by just comments, I’m bothered by the things I had to deal with irl. Things I didn’t think about when I was 14 posting videos for fun.

“I’m not a prodigy. I’m not carrying a torch. Im not here for old heads to sexualize me, as I have been for the past few years. I’m creating music I have never felt is so true to who I am.”

Bowers goes on to say that she’s now crafting “music for the girls in the front row. Not the weird dude w a tripod tryna look up my shorts”.

As she puts it, “I’m not letting anyone push me around anymore. I’ve been thru a lot this year as I get ready to turn 20 next month. You’re either in it w me or not. I’m not who you want me to be, and I can’t wait for this next era of music.”

In a follow-up post, Bowers also confirmed that she's going to start posting videos again soon, but warned: “No more guitar content idc we onto new thing.”

And speaking of moving beyond guitar videos, earlier this year she shared that she’s ditching the blues label she’s been known for so far and leaning more heavily into rock and punk.

“There’s a lot of really awesome bands out right now. I just met The Linda Lindas – I’m a huge fan of them, and Amyl And The Sniffers, Lambrini Girls,” she said.

"Rock bands are coming back. You have Geese and Yungblud… it’s super-inspiring to me. I’m like, ‘What can I add to this?’ What I have is not straight-ahead rock; it’s very modern-sounding.”

In more recent news, Bowers spec’d out her dream SG – teasing what a potential signature Gibson could look like.