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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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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Philip Sayce returns for another signature Seymour Duncan set, this time recreating the unmistakable tone of his ‘Big Daddy’ Strat.

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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.

Julian Lage thought he was dreaming when he got to grace the stage with slide guitar legend Derek Trucks, and needed to see video footage of the performance to confirm it really happened.

The jazz guitarist burst onto the scene before he hit his teens, culminating in an appearance at the Grammys aged 12, and picking up the award for Best Contemporary Jazz Album with his debut album 10 years later.

He’s had a pretty wild career, but playing with Derek Trucks might take the biscuit for the 38-year-old.

“It was our friend Mike Elizondo, who is a masterful bass player and producer,” he tells Guitar World of how he was introduced to the virtuoso.

“He produced Tedeschi Trucks’ new record, and they’ve known each other for years. Mike was in New York for the release of that album [2026’s Future Soul], and he was at the Beacon Theatre with Nels Cline and Derek, and just texted saying, ‘Can you be here Friday?’”

Needless to say, he was game to join the band, which Trucks co-leads with his Fender signature artist wife, Susan Tedeschi, on stage for a song.

“I, like everybody else on planet Earth, think Derek’s just the best,” Lage purrs. “He’s such a gift.”

Trucks himself was a child prodigy, having shared stages with Buddy Guy aged just nine, so it was something of a collision of kindred spirits. But it happened in a flash.

“It was over before I knew it,” he says. “I showed up, I plugged in, and it was over. I went home, and then I saw a video, and I thought, ‘I’m glad I didn’t dream it.’ I had a wonderful time.”

Lage stepped onto the Beacon Theater’s hallowed stage on March 20th, 2026, a white Fender Telecaster in hand. Trucks, armed, as usual, with a Gibson SG, led the way through a free-flowing and sprawling Keep on Growing that lasted the best part of 15 minutes.

Lage’s smile gives away how much of a blast he was having, counterbalancing Trucks’ biting blues licks with plenty of spangly charm of his own as his jazz background poked through in all the right ways.

“It’s a testament to the guitar,” Lage adds of the show. “It’s a very friendly instrument, you know. The genre thing isn’t really a thing when you’re with like-minded musicians.”

Trucks, meanwhile, has been enjoying his own ‘pinch me’ moment, having taken Jerry Garcia’s $11m Tiger guitar to the stage just hours after it became the world’s second most expensive guitar.

Lage’s full interview with Guitar World will be published online in the near-future.

Named after a street in his home town of Winnipeg, Canada, Ariel Posen’s latest album, Bannatyne, takes his playing and songwriting to another level. It’s also possible to hear his new Fender signature Strat, which features heavily throughout.

Drop-tuned to tectonic-plate-bothering levels of fuzz-laden funk on tracks like Future Present Tense and Vagabond, it forms the backbone for 12 tracks of sheer sonic delight.

Your signature Fender Strat really bares its teeth on the new album. Is it a baritone or just drop-tuned?

It’s not a baritone guitar, it’s a normal guitar, but you can put the heavier strings on it and [drop-tune] if you want. I have this one tuned to B standard [BEADF#B], but they come stock as standard tuning. It’s very much just a normal guitar.

Were the pickups specially designed for it?

Tim Shaw [of Fender] and I came up with the pickups together; they’re called AP90s. The guitar is based on a Strat I have, as well as my Jazzmaster.

I wanted the sound of the Jazzmaster’s neck pickup – which is not a P-90, it’s a Jazzmaster pickup wired after my [own] Jazzmaster – and then the bridge pickup is a P-90. They just sound really good together. It’s single coil, so it’s not like a humbucker kind of sound. I’m biased, of course, but it sounds really good!

When did you first start the writing process for Bannatyne?

The writing process started, basically, at the beginning of 2024. I was on tour most of the previous year, touring my album Reasons Why, and when I’m on tour for an album and whatnot, I’m not in writing mode at all.

So at the start of January 2024, I was off for a little bit, and my goal was to write as many songs as possible and go into the studio at the end of the year. By the time November came around, I had about 20 or 25 songs and I chose the 12 that I felt were the strongest, and we went from there.

Apart from your Fender signature guitar, what was the rest of the gear you used on the album?

For amps, I used my Two-Rock Traditional Clean, my Benson Chimera, my ’63 Deluxe Reverb and my ’61 Concert. I have this vintage amp that my friend built for me out of a PA head [the POS-1 by Don Voth]. I also have this SL Amps New Drive, which is kind of a Dumble-style thing, and I used my Magic Amps Vibro Prince. Those were all the main amps.

What about pedals?

I had a pedalboard that I used, and then I had a pile of other pedals, like, whatever the song was calling for. So on the ’board, the main overdrive was between a Vemuram Jan Ray and the KingTone Duellist, and then the Hudson Broadcast-AP. And for fuzz, it was the KingTone miniFUZZ, and the KingTone Octaland and the DanDrive [Austin] Blender.

For delays I was using the Eventide H9, the Chase Bliss Thermae, the Chase Bliss Mood and the Geckoplex EP-5. I was using the Hologram Electronics Chroma Console a lot; that was in huge use on this record, and also the Infinite Jets and Microcosm by Hologram.

With such a varied manifest of gear to choose from, how do you go about matching the song with a specific amp or set of pedals?

It sounds so general, but I’ll try a couple things and if something just has a little magical thing to it, that’s what we’ll use. And I think it’s a constant search to fit the sound I’m hearing in my head, and something that stands out and something that sounds unique and special. So if something sounds just like anything else, I’m more inclined to keep searching until I find something really inspiring and different, if that makes sense.

You’re using your signature Rock Slide on the album – how did you come to settle for that particular model?

Yeah, it’s been 11 years of using that, so that’s the only slide I ever use. Well, my history is like anyone else’s; you pick up the first slide you see, and you don’t know any difference.

When I met Danny from The Rock Slide, I started to realise, ‘Holy crap, you can have different sizes? You can have something that fits your finger better?’. And a couple of my favourite slide players always played brass. I always liked brass; I felt glass and ceramic were almost warmer-sounding, which typically is a nice thing to have.

But I like the brighter sound. We came up with something that fits my finger well and I’ve never looked back. It’s just a part of my finger, you know? I always tell people to find one that fits and feels good, and then just stick to it. Don’t change; if it works, set it and forget it.

Which acoustic guitars did you choose to play on Bannatyne?

There’s a bunch of acoustics on the tracks. The main ones I used were a Martin OM-28, which is a newer one for me, it sounds beautiful, and a Martin Triple-O, an old one. Also, it’s technically acoustic, a Mavis by Mule Resophonics. It’s kind of a half acoustic, half electric resonator-style guitar.

That was used on No Way Out and Dead To Me. Any acoustic you hear, I like to double it with another one. So in this case, it was primarily those two Martins. There was one other one, too, made by Ryan.

There are a couple of collaborations on the new album, with Kathleen Edwards and City and Colour – how did they come about?

Well, the City and Colour one, I just heard [Dallas Green’s] voice on it for some reason, so I just asked him if he wanted to sing on it. And fortunately for me, he was very into it, and did it right away.

People know him as this soft singer-songwriter guy, but he’s also an amazing rock singer – he still sings in a band called Alexisonfire. And it was perfect, what he did. And the song with Kathleen Edwards, More Me With You, I really just wanted that song to be a duet, like this intimate vibe. And so, same thing.

She’s someone I really admire and have been a fan of for a long time, and I texted her, and fortunately for me she was just very keen to do it, and got on it right away. So I’m very grateful to both of them for doing it.

You’re on tour at the moment, are you playing any of the new tracks live?

Oh, yeah, we play a lot of them, for sure. We’ve been touring in the US since last September, so we started playing a lot of these songs. It was called the Future Present Tense tour, which was the first single that came out. So we’ve been playing a lot of these already, just kind of getting them under our belt, so to speak.

• Bannatyne is out now.
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

Most of us guitarists are perpetually chasing ways to raise our game. That is part of the fun, after all. But sometimes what we seek is already freely available, without studying music theory, learning scale/arpeggio shapes or drilling picking exercises.

I’m talking about the rhythm of what we play, which is arguably 50 per cent (if not more) of what makes phrases appealing and memorable.

If we feel we should be working harder, this is when we’re most at risk of overplaying, filling all the gaps and overcomplicating things (take it from someone who’s done it). Sometimes what feels good to play doesn’t translate to what sounds good to the listener, who may not play guitar or be wowed by rippling arpeggios.

If we listen closely to the greats, especially in this genre, you can hear that not only do they leave spaces, but when they do play, there’s a rhythmic signature to their phrasing.

For example, Clapton in Crossroads, Gilmour in Comfortably Numb and Peter Green in Black Magic Woman all have their own take on how they approach rhythms in the phrasing, giving a uniqueness while using the very same pentatonic shapes.

One thing that isn’t demonstrated explicitly here is the spaces in between. That would certainly be easy to transcribe (and read!), but ultimately not particularly helpful, so do bear in mind that even these examples are a concentrated version of what you might want to play in a real-life musical scenario.

The four phrases were played separately, but could be joined up to make a solo if you prefer. That being said, the fourth example is really an alternative take on Example 1, or perhaps a suggestion of how you might continue onwards in a similar style. I hope these examples are useful and enjoyable. See you next time!

Example 1

A quick rake leads into a contrasting held bend, giving a sense of space to start. Bar 2 then features some repeated triplets – feel free to pull back and play these late, you’ll know when you’ve gone too far.

Note the quarter-tone bends in bars 2 and 3. These are very subtle but add so much in terms of attitude. The final phrase crosses bars 3 and 4 – it’s a smooth bend/release leading to a quick flurry, similar in essence to the introductory phrase.

Example 2

Keeping with the triplet theme to start, this example then takes a leaf out of Peter Green’s book, especially in bar 3 where the rhythmic groupings feel as though they’re floating independently of the beat.

They aren’t really in this case, though the last four semiquavers do pull back in tempo noticeably.

This shouldn’t be set in stone, keep experimenting – you can always dial it back if you think you’ve lost the feel. The pre-bend with fast vibrato in bar 3 is another detail worth spending some time on.

Example 3

This rhythmic idea is similar to some of Eric Clapton’s phrasing during his solos in Crossroads. The rhythmic groupings are quite funky and you will want to use down- and upstrokes to aid with this.

Use this idea as a basis for further experimentation, rather than conforming precisely to any rhythm. There are no rules, but you can pick up some hints from watching the video. Also, watch for details such as quarter-tone bends, staccato/short notes and vibrato.

Example 4

An alternative opening phrase, or a suggestion for how things might continue, this example draws on David Gilmour’s phrasing from the solos in Comfortably Numb, Another Brick In The Wall (Pt 2) and Have A Cigar.

As with Example 3, it’s questionable how useful it would be to duplicate this exactly. This is more of a ‘feel’ thing, based around choppy/staccato or muted up- and downstrokes.

We finish with a classic pentatonic lick, the last note of which (D) holds, adding a slow quarter-tone bend after crossing into bar 4.

Hear it here

Eric Clapton – Crossroads

One of the details which makes Eric’s playing so appealing is his use of rhythm. Check out the solos in Crossroads and you can hear him experimenting – and really pulling against the beat at times. He can also be heard (in a more restrained manner) on the Bluesbreakers (‘Beano’) album a few years earlier.

More recently, he revisited this approach in Bad Love. Like anything, the rhythm is just a part of the picture, so often isn’t as blatant as some of the examples.

Albert Collins – Truckin' With Albert Collins

The Iceman himself, Albert used an unusual F minor tuning (low to high: F C F Ab C F) often with a capo at the 5th to 7th fret, which contributed to his sound, but that need not concern us too much here. All the same, check out Frosty from the 1969 album Truckin’ With Albert Collins.

On that same album, see if you can sit comfortably with the lilt between the guitar and brass on Tremble! Finally, have a listen to his playing alongside Gary Moore on his cover of Too Tired.

Peter Green – The Pious Bird of Good Omen

Peter’s manipulation of rhythms is perhaps the most subtle of the players cited here, but his rhythmic groupings on Black Magic Woman, Supernatural and Need Your Love So Bad demonstrate a free flowing ‘push and pull’ against the beat, with some unexpected pentatonic flurries that sound easier to play than they actually are.

All are great demonstrations of the use of space, plus you can hear the intention behind each and every note.

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

Tom Misch has reflected on the time he played at Eric Clapton’s Crossroads Guitar Festival, when he was joined on stage by one of his biggest heroes.

In 2019, Misch – the neo-soul, jazz-funk and hip-hop powerhouse – joined the Crossroads festival bill alongside the likes of Buddy Guy, Bonnie Raitt, Albert Lee, Jeff Beck, Marcus King, Gary Clark Jr., and more legendary guitar players.

Another name on the lineup was John Mayer, who offered to jam with Misch during his set at the very last minute.

“It was crazy. It was Eric Clapton’s Crossroads guitar festival, I think it was just before COVID,” Misch remembers in a new interview with Guitar World. “First of all, I was like, ‘Eric Clapton’s invited me to do this, this is incredible. He knows who I am!’

“Then, I was on the way there and I got a DM from John Mayer saying, ‘Do you want some assistance on your set?’ I just couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t spoken to him before and he was reaching out. I was so excited.”

Mayer reaching out was a huge deal to Misch, who has cited the Continuum guitarist as a key influence in his guitar playing. To this day, Misch still plays a John Mayer Fender Stratocaster signature.

He continues, “I just couldn’t believe it. I knew he was going to jump up for the set I was doing. It was a great lineup – I had Yussef Dayes on drums and Rocco Palladino on bass, and we were playing a couple of my songs.

“I think it was a quite short set – we had like 20 minutes. I remember John came into the room half an hour before we went on just to jam some of the ideas. He was really tall. And, obviously, had such big energy. He comes into the room and literally had his hands up in the air. He’s a really nice guy, he’s very complimentary.”

It was a whirlwind experience for Misch, but it didn’t end there. Not only did he get to play with Mayer, his hero also made a unique observation about his own playing that reframed his entire perspective.

“I remember him pointing out something interesting,” Misch recalls. “He was saying that I play very laterally, as opposed to horizontally. That’s something I’ve never noticed before, but I’ve thought about it a lot since. If I do a scale I’ll go up the fretboard, as opposed to across the strings.”

The pair would later team up for an NPR Tiny Desk performance in 2020, but have yet to collaborate again. If Misch has his way, more team-ups could eventually follow.

“I think it will happen,” he says. “I want to find the right project, you know, to ask him if he wants to get involved. I reckon he’d be up for it.”

Guitar World’s full interview with Tom Misch will be published soon.

Misch tours the EU next week, starting with a show in Amsterdam on June 8. Visit Tom Misch's website for a full list of dates.

Joe Bonamassa may be coming around to the prospect of playing digital modeling amps after he seemingly took a Fender Tone Master amp on tour.

Bonamassa’s affection for tube amps is well known. He owns a legion of high-end Dumble amps, and has played everything from early 1950s Fender tweeds and even Gary Moore’s old Soldano.

He also partnered with Fuchs for a signature valve amp, and once worked with Fender on an artist edition ‘48 Dual Professional combo.

As a vocal critic of modeling tech, it seemed unlikely – nay, borderline impossible – that Bonamassa would ever warm to the idea of playing anything digital whatsoever.

Well, the tide may be turning. A few weeks ago, Bonamassa shared a photo on Instagram of a pair of Fender Twins. However, some eagle-eyed fans noticed the Tweed had a ‘Tone Master’ plate on the grille.

“Well, Well, Well! What do we have here?” Bonamassa wrote. “Fresh in from the Arizona territory of Scottsdale. Beta testing something new and exciting on this tour. @fender Spot the difference and you might win a prize (prizes will not be honored).”

Why is this a big deal? Because Fender Tone Master amps are completely digital – and if Bonamassa is confident enough to play a digital combo live on stage, then that’s a huge seal of approval for the range.

Fender rolled out the Tone Master lineup in 2019, presenting them as modeling amps that captured authentic tube amp tones associated with its most iconic designs, including a number of Tweeds and Twins.

JoBo is a through-and-through tube traditionalist, so the fact he’s playing a digital recreation of a valve amp (which he probably owns) is telling. He’s spoken in the past about his aversion for such tech, particularly modelers, previously reasoning why he’d never play one.

But it seems the tech has finally convinced him, encouraging him to U-turn and embrace modern amps. Replying to Jason Isbell on the post, Bonamassa offered further praise, writing: “It's honestly really amazing what they did digitally. I wanted to dislike it!”

Just how far Bonamassa will lean into the modeling amp world remains to be seen. Playing one at home is one thing, taking it on tour is another. But this doesn’t look like a one-time-thing. Bonamassa could be in it for the long haul – just don't expect him to play a Tone Master Pro any time soon.

Keep an eye on Joe Bonamassa’s Instagram page for sightings of his new Tone Master in action.

When we talk about phrasing on blues guitar, this can often translate to rhythm. It’s possible to play a great solo without many notes if the rhythm is interesting.

Obviously, the same goes for rhythm parts – so the example piece concentrates on this area but using a hybrid ‘rhythm/lead’ approach favoured by John Mayer, SRV, Nile Rodgers and Jimi Hendrix, among others. Blurring the boundaries between the traditional distinctions of rhythm and lead guitar also serves a trio format well, and, as you’ll hear, the backing track consists of only bass and drums.

While we can be minimal at times, there is a responsibility (some might say freedom!) to fill the harmonic and/or rhythmic gaps. Not all blues is ‘funky’ per se, but there is a lot to be gained from understanding displaced/off-kilter rhythms, and this is what the example piece is designed to help you with.

A good starting point is to think of each beat in the bar as divided into four semiquavers. Initially, mute all of the strings then play alternating ‘down-up-down-up’ strokes, four per beat of the bar/16 to the whole bar. You’ll sometimes hear this described as a ‘1-e-and-a’ pattern.

Accent the first downstroke on each beat of the bar, then try moving the emphasis around, maybe to the ‘e’ or ‘a’ on the upstrokes. This is the basis of the approach used in the example piece, though you’ll notice I’m not playing every single semiquaver beat, even though my picking hand often goes through the motions.

Another thing to bear in mind is to keep it relaxed and don’t hit the strings too hard. This is an easy trap to fall into when playing tight staccato rhythms. Finally, remember you can mute with both picking and/or fretting hands to control ringing strings. Hope you enjoy and see you next time!

Example 1

Almost every bar is 'locked down' with a double hit on an A5 power chord and a more rhythmic answering phrase in the subsequent three beats.

This can often be a repeated phrase, but it’s more useful to show you a range of options in this context. Though the muted hits are notated as faithfully as possible, this is not an exact science, so allow yourself a little flexibility, rather than attempting to duplicate anything precisely.

Example 2

Moving to the IV chord (D), this second phrase plays around with the initial chord hits using a dotted rhythm. This is a bit of a liberty as the bass and drums stay with two straight quavers, but I think we'll get away with it...

Concentrate on the drums to aim your accents/pauses as precisely as possible, and note that not every 1-e-and-a’ space is filled, even if your picking hand does go through the motions to keep the timing.

Example 3

The C and D chords use a similar pattern in this final example. Note the tied/held chords going across the rhythm – slow the whole thing down if that helps make sense of what’s happening on the various subdivisions of the beat.

Like Example 1 (and 2), the muted hits should be played without over-thinking which strings you’re hitting – just make sure everything is muted and it won’t matter too much. For the last bar, it was fun to change to the bridge pickup and go for a rockier feel. This is optional!

Hear it here

John Mayer Trio – Try!

Recorded live, this album is a particularly great example of what a trio can sound like – and it was a major inspiration for the example piece, especially Who Did You Think I Was. Also on this album, check out I Got A Woman and Wait Until Tomorrow.

Bonus mention goes to Another Kind Of Green for combining Little Wing-type chordwork with a funky shuffle feel. There are a good many ideas waiting to be used here – it’s an ample source of inspiration!

Jimi Hendrix – Band of Gypsys

Though he loved to overdub complementary rhythmic parts in the studio, Jimi was adept at making it work live, too. Check out out Freedom from The Cry Of Love for an example of his studio savvy, then compare with Who Knows from Band Of Gypsys to hear it live in a trio format.

Also, listen to Message To Love from the same album, with funky and unison riffing. This really makes the distinction between rhythm and lead guitar seem obsolete.

Nile Rodgers – Various

We’re going unapologetically funk for the last suggestion here – and Nile Rodgers is still the definitive example of a funk rhythm player. Check out his work with Chic: Le Freak, Good Times and I Want Your Love.

Alternatively, try Sister Sledge with Thinking Of You, We Are Family or Lost In Music. Elsewhere, why not check out I’m Coming Out by Diana Ross, or Get Lucky by Daft Punk. All these parts are based on the ‘1-e-and-a’ rhythm described earlier.

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

Jimi Hendrix spent his formative years, in the early ’60s, on the Chitlin’ Circuit (a network of clubs and venues that featured Black artists) working as a backing musician for a range of soul and blues stars – essentially serving his apprenticeship and honing his skills.

Unsurprisingly, once he’d decided he’d had enough of standing in the shadows, and started to front his own band, much of his repertoire comprised cover versions of the same blues and soul material that he’d cut his teeth on, with a handful of contemporary pop and rock classics thrown into the mix.

Here are 10 of his finest moments, where he took the raw material of an original, injected the spark that was his unique mojo, and recreated the songs in his own image – often almost as if they were written for him.

1. All Along The Watchtower (Electric Ladyland – 1968)

The ultimate mark of respect that any artist can receive for a cover version of a song is when the original artist adopts the new version for their own future performances, which is exactly what happened with Bob Dylan when he heard Hendrix’s reinvention of Watchtower.

As is frequently the case with acts covering Dylan’s songs, the original version often becomes, essentially, a songwriter’s demo (see pretty much every Byrds cover of a Dylan track).

Where Dylan’s original lumped along in a fairly pedestrian fashion, Hendrix took the bare bones and soared, to create a track that would feature high on the list of any compilation of Jimi’s greatest moments.

Dylan himself was generous in his acknowledgement of what Jimi brought to the piece, “He took some small songs of mine that nobody paid any attention to and brought them up into the outer limits of the stratosphere, turned them all into classics.” Not only is this the greatest cover of any Dylan song, but it is also, for many Hendrix fans, one of his absolute career highlights.

Jimi creates a unique atmosphere with layers of guitars, including subtle wah-wah embellishments, Wes Montgomery-like octave runs and deft slide work that all combined to provide a strange sense of otherworldliness that chimed perfectly with the song’s opening line, “There must be some way out of here…”

2. Hey Joe (Smash Hits – 1966)

Hey Joe has received countless different treatments across numerous cover versions, but again the Hendrix take provides the definitive reading of Billy Roberts’ lyrically dark tale of murder. Ignoring the temptation to increase the tempo, as in The Leaves’ hit version, Hendrix substitutes depth and power for their frantic garage band approach.

Jimi released the song as his debut single, scoring his first hit anywhere in the world, eventually reaching number six in the UK pop charts. As with all of Hendrix’s hit singles, the soloing is taut, economical and memorable, creating parts that are as essential to the song as the lyrics and melody. No doubt manager Chas Chandler was a key figure in maintaining the band’s strict focus in the studio.

Jimi was already covering this song, as well as several others on this list, when he was playing regular shows at the Café Wha in Greenwich Village. This was the first song that future manager, Chandler, saw Hendrix play in 1966; he’d gone to check him out following up on a recommendation from Linda Keith – Keith Richards’ girlfriend.

It was on the basis of that night’s show, that Chandler invited Hendrix to go back to the UK with him, with the intention that Chandler would – in the words of the old cliché – make him a star.

3. Wild Thing (Live At Monterey – 1967)

This song could have been written for Hendrix – there is certainly very little that is wild about The Troggs’ original version. Essentially a novelty song in its original incarnation, it hit the top of the US charts in 1966. As if to emphasize the absurdist aspects, the solo on the Troggs’ version, as performed on the obscure ocarina, practically sounds like a spoof on the title. Wild? Yeah, right.

What is undeniably wild though, is the sound of Hendrix’s guitar – at its most rampant as he powers through the simple three-chord intro, bringing an entire universe of subtext to the table.

Many of the ‘wild man of rock’ cliches spring from Jimi’s rendition of this song in the movie, Monterey Pop, with the guitar-burning finale.

This is not the best version, however. Jimi usually prefaced the introduction with some severe Strat whammy bar wrangling. The downside of such abuse though, is the calamitous effect it had on the guitar’s tuning.

Jimi would often try to remedy this as the song was in progress, but it’s clear that on the Monterey version, there are still some issues. Ironically, that slightly sour clash of intervals actually enhances the outside nature of Jimi’s take.

In fact, for one of the best filmed performances of this song, check the rendition from 1967, from the Blackpool Opera House in England, where the tuning problem doesn’t really impact on Jimi’s playing.

4. Killing Floor (Live At Monterey & BBC Sessions 1967)

Allegedly, after witnessing Hendrix tearing through his total reinvention of the Howlin’ Wolf original, in a guest spot with Cream in 1966, Eric Clapton was so taken aback with what Jimi did that he had to leave the building. Clapton has said that it made him reassess everything he’d been doing.

Chas Chandler recalled, “Clapton stood there and his hands dropped off the guitar. He lurched off the stage.” Clapton himself recalled the event, “Of course Jimi played it exactly like it ought to be played, and he totally blew me away.”

There were never any sour grapes on Clapton’s part though; they were good friends for the remaining years of Jimi’s life and Clapton actually cited the BBC version of Killing Floor as his favorite Hendrix song.

The blistering pace at which Jimi takes the song transforms it from the sedate – though undoubtedly menacing – pace of the original into a hypersonic adrenaline blast. The speed and dexterity with which Hendrix punctuates the rhythm parts truly conveys the impression that there are two separate guitarists playing.

As great as Hubert Sumlin’s work was on the original, Hendrix was always able to find a further, unimagined dimension in every song he covered.

5. Like A Rolling Stone (Live At Monterey – 1967)

Another Dylan interpretation, and another hangover from the Café Wha days. Bob’s original, recorded after he’d fully embraced the electric, rock focused approach that had divided his fans so sharply, remains one of Dylan’s most loved songs.

With this one, Hendrix didn’t tear up the blueprint and rewrite the rules, but what he did do was to bring a cool, laconic vibe that wasn’t present in Dylan’s own version. Where Dylan sounds bitter – few can sneer a lyric the way Bob could – Hendrix conveys a sense of ‘it’s your loss, not mine.’ There is a wry, humorous air to Jimi’s reading of the lyrics and of course, his playing is, as always nonpareil.

The Monterey version includes the iconic moments where he says, “Let me play my guitar” in the intro, and also the casual way he relays to the band that he missed a verse out towards the end.

Fans are evenly divided between this and the Winterland version, recorded in 1968, on which is best. The argument for Jimi as the ultimate interpreter of Dylan – posited via Watchtower – is further strengthened with Rolling Stone, and a couple of more entries further down this list.

6. Rock Me Baby (Live At Monterey – 1967)

Jimi had so totally reinvented B.B. King’s original that it made perfect sense to rename it and make it his own song, morphing into Lover Man. Of course, B.B. never rocked out to any significant degree, even in his earliest ’50s recordings, so there isn’t a comparable moment from King’s own mighty back catalog.

B.B.’s own opinion on the Hendrix version isn’t known, though he did relate, in a number of interviews, that he’d encountered Hendrix in Jimi’s early days – when Hendrix was playing with Little Richard and the Isley Brothers – finding him to be quiet and friendly, and they did encounter each other towards the end of Hendrix’s life. King often spoke of his admiration for Jimi’s playing.

Hendrix had quite a few attempts at recording Lover Man but was never happy enough with any of them to sanction their release. Jimi applies the same formula to Rock Me Baby as he did to Killing Floor, where all that really remained of the original song was the lyrics.

Again, Jimi blends in rhythm and lead parts to create the illusion of two guitarists playing at once, and also employs the Delta blues trick of singing and playing the same melody lines at times – something he did to great effect on his own track, Voodoo Chile.

7. Star Spangled Banner (Live At Woodstock – 1969)

As always, Hendrix finds a way to keep the essential core of the original melody whilst simultaneously taking it to places that no other artist could have even imagined.

Often interpreted as an anti-Vietnam protest – though Hendrix never said that himself – it sounds more like the soundtrack to Armageddon. The full blown aural assault assails the senses – indeed pushing the listener into sensory overload, as Hendrix replicates the essence of the Sturm und Drang of bloody, violent warfare.

There is a common misconception that this was a one-off protest by Hendrix, but he had been playing the piece for quite some time and had also adopted a similar approach with the UK national anthem, and allegedly, though no aural evidence exists, the French national anthem.

The concept of ‘killer guitarist plays solo national anthem’ has become a fairly common occurrence at major sporting events, but no other artist has ever dared take it to the places Jimi did, to deliver a pioneering exploration of the outer limits of what a man, possessed of unrivalled skills and imagination can wring out of an electric guitar set to stun.

8. Drifters Escape (Loose Ends 1973)

The third dip into the Dylan songbook for this list, covering a track that the Bobster never actually played live until 1992. It was originally on Dylan’s John Wesley Harding album, which was released to mixed reviews back in 1967.

Hendrix recorded his version three years later, though it remained unreleased in his lifetime, initially turning up on one of the many posthumous cash-in compilations – Loose Ends, before later appearing on the far superior roundup of outtakes and works in progress that was South Saturn Delta.

The song is essentially based around the I chord, with brief forays to the IV, creating an endlessly repeating loop that didn’t offer a wealth of harmonic potential, something that clearly didn’t faze Hendrix, who sprays superlative fills and rhythmic motifs across the verses and choruses, and unleashes yet another Hendrix masterclass on the solo.

Although Jimi didn’t give the song the radical reworking that he applied to other cover versions, he did manage to repurpose it for an electric rock audience from its acoustic guitar/harmonica folk-based source.

9. Come On Part 2 (Electric Ladyland – 1968)

Earl King’s original single version was split across both sides of the 7” and named Parts I and II accordingly. Hendrix’s cover combines both sides of the single, although he calls it Part I. (When Stevie Ray Vaughan covered it, he called his version Part III, in a clear nod to King and Jimi).

Hendrix brings a stomping upbeat soul feel which he welds onto an otherwise faithful recreation of the original, until the solo, where Hendrix once again pours his own special sauce across three choruses of fluid, dynamic incendiary fretboard fire in the middle of the song before returning to the main theme, and again for a couple of choruses at the end.

Jimi had been covering the song for many years since its release in 1960, performing it in some of his first bands; much like Freddie King’s Hideaway it’s the kind of blues rite of passage standard that guitarists saw as a benchmark of their abilities, and one of the staples of the blues guitarists’ canon in the early ’60s.

Earl King re-recorded the song in 1977, taking some inspiration from the Hendrix interpretation to complete the full circle of song evolution. According to Experience bass player, Noel Redding, it was the last song recorded for Electric Ladyland, “We just played it live and they took it.”

10. Johnny B. Goode (Hendrix In The West – 1970)

One of the most covered songs of all time, and a staple in the repertoire of every bar band since Chuck Berry released it, way back in 1958. Johnny B. Goode doesn’t appear on this list due to Jimi’s reinvention of the song, but rather, his reinvention of the typical approach to the solo.

The average guitarist is usually content to blast out a stream of archetypal Chuck Berry licks, mixing and matching Berry’s blueprint in a predictable way. Hendrix eschews the obvious, of course, and brings his signature supernatural take, whilst still maintaining contact with the essence of the song, though there are moments when it almost feels like he’s about to leave the whole thing behind.

Each of the six choruses of solos kicks off with the Berry motif before launching into outer space for a series of crazily bent notes that reach pitches that shouldn’t exist. The tone that Jimi creates with the mix of Strat, Marshall and unfeasible overbending, excoriates all subsequent cover versions, rendering them redundant.

11. Daytripper (BBC Sessions – 1967)

Although Hendrix brings plenty to the table with this cover, it doesn’t really fall under the “made it his own” umbrella and hence is added as an extra for consideration - a side dish to the feast that is the ten songs above.

One of many tracks that were uniquely cut for various BBC radio shows in the UK (all captured on the essential BBC Sessions collection), Jimi laid down this version a couple of years after The Beatles’ original hit the top five on both sides of the Atlantic. It’s interesting to compare the unrestrained, free-flowing vibe that Hendrix introduced, which takes the song to another level.

Jimi’s version is far more urgent, making the Fab Four’s original sound a little sedate by comparison – something that happened every time Hendrix covered a song. With the Beatles’ version, not much really happens in the middle break – of course, Hendrix grabs the opportunity to blaze through a rip roaring solo, overloaded with scorching guitar pyrotechnics.

Slight Return – a handful of contenders for further consideration

Although the tracks above are the cream of the crop, there are a handful of other noteworthy examples, including the BBC Sessions cover of yet another Dylan song, Can You Please Crawl Out Your Window, any of the attempts at Hound Dog – a song which Hendrix toyed with on a number of occasions, his mini version of Cream’s Sunshine of Your Love and another BBC Sessions cut showcasing Jimi’s spin on Muddy Waters’ Hoochie Coochie Man.

Does being a good acoustic guitar player automatically make you a good electric guitar player? That is the question, and the answer can vary depending on who you ask.

According to blues extraordinaire Eric Bibb, being proficient in one doesn’t necessarily translate to the other. As he puts it, they’re not exactly the same species.

“I’m really not an electric guitar player,” he admits in a new interview with Guitarist.

“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.”

But, for Bibb, there is a foundational difference in the two disciplines, which can be defined through the styles or techniques that each largely require.

Despite owning the Danelectro, he goes on to clarify that, “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.”

However, if he ever had to purchase one single electric guitar, there’s a certain “jazz big-body” guitar that would definitely make the cut.

“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.”

In more recent news, Bibb talks about how he never planned to be a roots troubadour, but the blues took hold of his career.

For more from Eric Bibb, plus new interviews with Slash and Billy Duffy, pick up issue 538 of Guitarist from Magazines Direct.

When guitar players hear the words “blues power,” they will usually cast their minds back to the late Sixties and early Seventies, when trailblazers like Albert King and Eric Clapton were using such terms to convey the emotional gravitas as well as the historic and humanistic weight deeply encased within the music.

All these years later, out of the younger generation, it’s Jared James Nichols who has been using the phrase to carry that legacy on, telling stories and hitting people in the heart with every strum and bend.

The singer/guitarist’s latest album, Louder Than Fate, carries many of his signature trademarks, while also surprising listeners by exploring new sonic ground that crosses the line past southern rock and into country.

That’s not the only way he’s chosen to step things up this time round – part of the album was recorded at Studio 606, the private facility and creative hub owned by Foo Fighters, with super producer Jay Ruston (Corey Taylor, Anthrax, Steel Panther) bringing his many years of expertise behind the desk.

Then there are the external producers and songwriters that Nichols enlisted to help avoid some of the common trappings and obstacles that almost every blues player faces in this day and age.

All in all, this is the most well-rounded Jared James Nichols album to date, taking us on a journey unlike anything he’s released before.

What did you learn from working with writers and producers like Roger Alan Nichols and Skip Black?

I think it was Brad Paisley who said how guitar players often cater their songs towards the solos or the riff. It’s a hard habit to break, because you make a structure and then play the shit out of it. I’ve been trying to prove myself constantly because when you get billed as some hotshot player, people will stand in front of you with their arms crossed as if to say, “Prove it”.

There’s this whole stigma around being the guy who can show everyone he can play. This time, I was rubbing elbows with people who had worked with some of the world’s greatest musicians. And not only that, these people just want to write songs.

They’d be like, “Oh yeah, another guitar player”. They didn’t care. Walking into those rooms gave me a completely different mindset. It was a challenge because I was working with people more experienced than me.

This record feels like a huge learning curve for you.

Dude, I got to do a huge chunk of it at Studio 606. Our drummer was using Taylor Hawkins’ kits. I was playing through Dave Grohl’s cabinets. We were going through the Sound City board. There was such a vibe in there. I felt like I was getting schooled the whole time.

One thing I learned is that you don’t need as much gain as you think you need for riffing. I started playing with my gain decked and thought it sounded cool. But when I walked into the control room, Jay was like, “Have you got a pedal on?” and told me to turn it off.

I was a little scared at first, but when I did, I could hear more of an old school vibe. Like if you listen to the classic stuff from the ‘60s and ‘70s, those Plexis aren’t as gainy as you might think. The tones were defined and muscular, but not washed out with overdrive and reverb.

So how did all of this affect how you actually play?

I remember working on a song called Looks Like That Felt Good. The Drop D riff is super easy, we kept it simplistic because I imagined myself in a venue playing with the drums.

Roger was the producer for that one and he kept hitting the spacebar, telling me to stop sliding into everything. Sometimes there are these things we do as guitar players – sliding makes things sound more slurred and bluesy, but some riffs need to hit straight. He told me to stop that and lose the vibrato.

Again, I was a bit unsure, but lo and behold his advice made sense. You learn things like that, which go a bit deeper than the big licks. It’s the little stylistic elements that fly under the radar, but when you pay attention, you’ll be glad you did.

Songs like Bending Or Breaking, Killing Time, and Show Me seem to showcase this whole different side to you.

That’s the thing about being in a room with people who aren’t into what you’re into. You learn more. It ended up being the perfect sauce. As an artist there comes a point where you have to let go of your insecurities. I did a lot of that on this record.

At one point I had to ask myself, ‘Am I going to be able to do this?’ It was like showing a whole other side of music that I love but have never had the guts to do.

Those dudes exist big-time in the country world and pushed me into finding my footing in stuff I wouldn’t have taken on without them. We’ve been playing these songs in the set and it’s great to see the change of pace. People have been like, “Damn, Jared’s not just ripping my head off for 80 minutes”.

There are, however, moments on this album where you still do. The first song, Let’s Go, has some Richie Kotzen-style barred pentatonic ideas.

I love Richie’s playing so much. I was lucky enough to tour with him in The Winery Dogs and we ended up hanging out a lot. I remember listening to him when I was 20 years old and thinking, ‘What the fuck?!’ And it’s the same with other legends like Paul Gilbert or Michael Schenker.

Whenever I tour with people like that, some of their licks end up in my playing. I just can’t help it. Even John 5, who is someone I’ve done over 100 shows with, ended up creeping into my playing because it was like we were drinking the same water.

Which of the new solos are you most proud of?

Nothing on the record was really contrived, it was all still from a shoot-from-the-hip mindset. But the solo in Killing Time was a first pass. I was listening to the backing track the night before, it’s this crescendo build in E Minor, just this basic thing. I started humming ideas that felt almost more like David Gilmour territory.

In the end, I played it through a 1969 Plexi with my Klon, using my Dorothy guitar, which is my really old Goldtop from 1952. The Klon was on with zero gain but I went to the amp and turned the volume all the way up.

I love solos that have some composition, these little waves of writing, but they also feel like they’ve been improvised. That’s where this one lives. It has the fiery spitball of “Cmon guys, let’s play”, but you can still hear how it follows the changes nicely.

What else are we hearing on this album? You tend to be quite minimal when it comes to gear.

It’s not a long list beyond the cable (laughs). I had the Plexi and this special amp from Blackstar that’s a one-of-one point-to-point handwired Series One. I was told they’d made it for Jeff Beck but for some reason they never got it to him. It’s more aggressive than the Plexi, like an old JCM800.

I used my Tube Screamer for a couple of things. For Runnin’ Hot, I borrowed this [Electro-Harmonix Small Stone] big box phaser from the early ‘80s. It gave some rhythms a bit more movement. The main guitars were Dorothy and this Korina Futura I got from Gibson for all the big-ass humbucker parts. I didn’t have to search much when it came to tone. It’s funny, I remember doing this track with Joe Bonamassa and he brought his whole rig over, saying to use whatever I needed.

I brought my Marshall head, Dorothy and my Klon and started testing out tones with my stuff before asking him what I should try. His answer was “I think you should stay there”. That was it. I try not to overcomplicate things.

Speaking of Joe, you recently went to his house to film a video on Gary Moore’s 1989 Soldano SLO-100 head, which he’d recently acquired.

Joe must have balls of steel because when we got there, the amp hadn’t been serviced or even turned on. It literally just showed up in a shipping crate. It was a bit like finding a classic muscle car, sticking some gas in, and firing it up. Joe was cranking it right away with a 1959 Les Paul.

In the video you can see the power sizzle down, shut off, and then come back. It did that a few times. It’s like we were feeling Gary Moore’s spirit in the room. I feel pretty spoiled when I think about all the cool shit I get to be around.

I also did a video on Gary’s JTM45 Bluesbreaker, which another friend got at auction. I own Gary’s original Guv'nor pedal, so we used that with a 1959 Les Paul. Here’s the crazy shit, the power went out four times, which has never happened before. Then this horrible rainstorm came. Something weird and energetic happened. I got the chills and remember saying, “Dude, I think Gary Moore’s here.”

You posted a picture not long ago of yourself as a teenager wearing a Sabbath Bloody Sabbath shirt, proudly holding your first Les Paul in front of your bedroom Marshall rig. That kid has come a long way.

I wouldn’t change a thing. Every time I screwed up or took a wrong turn, from bands breaking up and me getting depressed or whatever, it’s all led to this path of understanding. Everything boils down to hard work. To be honest, I’m still that kid in a Sabbath Bloody Sabbath shirt holding the Les Paul in front of the Marshall.

If I was able to put in the work and get to where I am today, then so can anyone. There were times were I was crashing on floors, living on 10 bucks a week with no gigs booked. I would walk around streets late at night trying to listen out for bands just to see if I could jam with them.

It’s easy to get discouraged. You might not be as fast as you like or have loads of followers online. But it just comes down to how bad you want it. Are you prepared to go through all of the shit to come out the other side? I stuck to my guns, playing the music that I love.

• Louder Than Fate is out June 6 via Frontiers
• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

A great way to break away from the typical blues soloing sound of pentatonic scales is to incorporate dominant 7 arpeggios into your improvised lines. As the name implies, a dominant 7 arpeggio is sounded by playing the notes of a dominant 7 chord, such as G7, C7 or D7, individually and in succession.

Let’s use the key of G as our point of reference: in Figure 1, a G7 chord is shown in 3rd position, followed by a G minor pentatonic scale (G, Bb, C, D, F) played in the same position.

What I often like to do, in order to create more interesting solo lines, is combine the notes of the minor pentatonic scale with those of a dominant 7 arpeggio, which, as you’ll notice, share three notes – the root, 5th and minor, of “flat” 7th.

Figure 2 illustrates a G7 arpeggio, built from the notes G, B, D and F. The first three notes give us a G major triad, and F is the minor, or “flatted,” 7th, which provides the dominant 7 sound. Figure 3 shows the same notes played in a descending manner on the lower strings.

Articulation devices like finger slides and string bends offer great ways to incorporate the dominant 7 pitches into phrases.

For example, Figure 4 begins with a series of slides into the notes G, B, D and F, all from a half step below, after which I finish the phrase with more typical blues lines based on the G blues scale (G, Bb, C, Db, D, F).

A great way to practice improvising with dominant 7 arpeggios is to loop a rhythm part then solo over it. Figure 5 shows a simple shuffle-based rhythm part that sits on a G7 chord.

Figure 6 sounds the notes of a G7 arpeggio played over the loop, first ascending then descending.

To some people, this is more of a “jazzy” sound; the reason for this is, as is often the case in jazz, the chord tones are emphasized when playing arpeggios. The inclusion of B, the major 3rd, in addition to F, the minor, or “flatted,” 7th, builds a strong connection to the harmony of the G7 chord.

Figure 7 offers a longer example of how to combine phrases built from the G minor pentatonic and G blues scales with G7 arpeggio shapes. Bars 1 and 2 emphasize the G blues scale, followed in bars 3 and 4 with emphasis on the major 3rd, B, which brings in the dominant 7 arpeggio sound.

In bars 5-8, I move back and forth between straight G minor pentatonic and blues scale phrases and the inclusion of the major 3rd, B, in order to bring the arpeggio sound back to the forefront. Throughout the remainder of the example, I move freely between the two approaches, striving for musicality in the way the different elements work together.

As you work with this dualistic approach, think of it as an ongoing hand-off between scales and arpeggios. Use your ears to discern the differences in the musical effects created and to inform your note choices.

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

On album number four, Empty Chairs, Canadian singer and guitarist Spencer Mackenzie is dialling up the intensity and embracing more of an up-tempo, darker shade of blue.

But there’s still plenty of soul encased within the new music, which sees him experimenting with dynamic nuances and sounding more sonically versatile than ever.

And then there’s his rousing cover of Rory Gallagher’s Don’t Know Where I’m Going, transforming a lesser-known 1971 acoustic cut by the Irish great into a big-band extravaganza.

That’s Progress

Now in his mid-20s, Spencer is starting to branch out from the classic blues that made him fall in love with music in the first place.

“The thing that’s cool about this album is that there are chord progressions I’ve never used before, including some chromatic movements and ideas that stem from outside of the blues,” he explains.

“I grew up listening to the greats like Stevie Ray Vaughan and Albert King, but this album is more of a hybrid between blues and rock. The songs are a bit grittier and more in-your-face, which resulted in more energetic guitar playing.

“One thing I’ve learned recently is the amount of subtlety between big solos and shorter verse leads. Don’t use the ginormous lead sound one minute into the song. It’s better to go with a light boost and save the bigger tones for later.”

Embrace The New

Modern players like Joe Bonamassa, Gary Clark Jr. and Marcus King have also shown Spencer how the blues has evolved with the times.

“What I love about Gary in particular is how he brings traditional playing into the modern age,” says Spencer. “I love the amount of freedom in his solos, he just goes off because his leads are open-ended. Leads should also be intentional, otherwise people can get bored.

“One of my favourites is Derek Trucks’ solo on Midnight In Harlem from the first Tedeschi Trucks Band live album [Everybody’s Talkin’, 2012]. It goes on for quite a while, but every second counts. It would be easy for a player to get lost in a situation like that, but Derek never has that problem.”

Electric Upgrade

There are many Rory Gallagher songs Spencer could have covered, but he ended up choosing Don’t Know Where I’m Going because of its relative obscurity.

“I didn’t know much about Rory until I went to music college,” he says. “I just fell in love with his style right away, especially as I grew up as a Strat guy.

“I chose this song because it’s an acoustic thumb and plucking thing from his second album [Deuce, 1971] that isn’t as well known as classics like Bad Penny or I Fall Apart. I love how stripped-down it is – there’s almost this old-timey Robert Johnson feel. Then I chose to turn the song on its head and record an electric version with more intensity and soloing.”

Different Shades of Blue

This latest release also sees Spencer switching from his ES-335 to a Les Paul.

“I didn’t want to take my 335 on a plane,” he says, explaining how he “needed something with humbuckers” and stumbled upon a secondhand ’60s Standard Iced Tea Burst Les Paul.

“I loved the finish and thinner neck, though it didn’t feel too thin like an SG. It was 12 hours away from where I live, that’s part of the struggle of being left-handed. I brought an amp, played it in a parking lot and brought it home. It ended up becoming my number one because of its versatility.

“The difference from nine to 10 on the volume is huge. I sometimes use that instead of gain-staging pedals. You can control a lot of sound through the guitar, dialling down the lead tone to find the rhythm tone.”

Spencer Mackenzie on how he dials in his sound

Like a lot of blues guitarists, Spencer doesn’t need a great deal in terms of pedals.

“I just want a few that work well with my Vox AC30,” he says. “I use a Boss ES-5 to switch through levels of gain.

“The first patch is just my Fender Engager Boost, the second one is my Analog Man Prince Of Tone, and the third is both of them together. Number four is my Fulltone OCD, and the final setting is the OCD with my Prince of Tone for a rip-your-face-off sound.”

• Empty Chairs is out now via Gypsy Soul.
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.

Session heavyweight George Terry has had quite the career, having amassed credits with ABBA, Bee Gees, Diana Ross and many, many other big-name acts over the years.

Not only that, during the 1970s the unsung electric guitar hero was Eric Clapton’s guitarist, providing chops on No Reason to Cry (1976) and Backless (1978), and hitting the road on numerous occasions throughout the decade.

Through Slowhand, Terry was also given the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet a Beatle – which took place after a particularly heavy night of drinking.

Speaking to Guitar World, Terry recalled the time he met George Harrison while staying at Clapton’s house.

“The band had to practice jams of slow blues tunes for over a week,” Terry explains. “It drove me crazy to do the same thing every day. After more than a week of it, I had a little too much Jack Daniels and went to sleep in the upstairs bedroom.

“Early the next morning, I woke up to Eric and George playing ukuleles at the foot of my bed. I thought I was dreaming, but the hangover assured me I wasn’t.”

Terry’s time as Clapton’s guitarist during the ’70s was certainly eventful, even without the impromptu ukulele jams with George Harrison.

He once had to step in and cover his boss’ playing when Slowhand was spiked with LSD before a show.

The pair would do great things together in the 1970s, and as Terry recalls, their relationship began rather spontaneously: Terry – who was at this point already a seasoned session player – spotted Clapton walking towards Criteria Studios, and offered to give him a lift.

“After giving Eric a ride to the studio, I told him I played with an in-house band that Mack Emerman [who founded Criteria Studios in 1958] let hang out there.

“I told Eric that we usually play for fun, in between being called into sessions, and invited him to join us if he wanted to play a bit or run down a song. He took me up on the offer and we played a few different kinds of grooves.”

Joe Bonamassa has one of the world’s greatest guitar collections, but tracking down his iconic 1960 Gibson Les Paul Standard, the so-called Bolin ’Burst, led to what he described as “the strangest guitar deal I ever did”.

The Bolin ’Burst got its name from its long-running association with Deep Purple and Zephyr guitarist Tommy Bolin.

Guitarist got to see (and photograph) the instrument up close when they were invited to ‘Nerdville, USA’ – the guitar icon’s given name for his personal musuem – for a guided tour of his awe-inspiring 500+ guitar collection.

It’s full of stories of valuable vintage finds, but it seems even an instrument as famous as the Bolin ’Burst still has a few surprises to offer, as Bonamassa reveals...

“Tommy Bolin never owned this guitar,” explains Bonamassa. “That’s the misconception. It was owned by a guy named David Brown who bought it in 1966 for $125 in Denver. His daughter actually sent me the receipt.

“When Tommy’s Goldtop got nicked in the early ’70s when he was with Zephyr, David was Tommy’s right-hand man and he loaned him this ’Burst. And so Tommy played it all through Zephyr and Deep Purple.”

Bonamassa notes Bolin did not use it on his album with Billy Cobham, Spectrum (on which he favored a Fender Stratocaster).

“They put the [Bigsby] vibrato on the Bolin ’Burst because Tommy was a Strat guy,” says Bonamassa.

The blues rock ace learned the art of buying vintage guitars by accompanying his dad (a vintage dealer) on guitar safaris, throughout his childhood. However, even he says tracking down the Bolin ’Burst was not an easy process.

“I looked for this guitar for about a decade,” explains Bonamassa. “I finally located David in Moab, Utah. I made a deal with him, paid him in cash, and he died two months later in a car accident. His last text to his daughter was, ‘I buried the money in the desert.’ Weird, weird story. It was also the strangest guitar deal I ever did.”

We presume the guitar’s had a more secure homelife since it’s been under the blues rocker’s careful custodianship, but it does get live airings – such when Joe Bonamassa brought the Bolin ’Burst out to cover Deep Purple.

Rory Gallagher had a lifelong affection for single-pickup student guitars that he often modded with more powerful pickups then played on the major stages of the world. Arguably, this guitar – serial number 60937 – is the most famous guitar of that style in Rory’s collection. Ironically, however, it was found by chance by his brother Donal Gallagher while Rory browsed a nearby guitar store.

“This guitar was found on one of the many trips to LA we made over the years. We were there for just a few hours in the afternoon, and Rory said he wanted to visit a guitar store, I think it was called Valley Sound, and he knew the guy there. So I said, ‘Okay, Rory, let’s go down. But it’s a nightmare parking because there’s only a couple of meters.’

“So I dropped him at the place, and he said, ‘Oh, I think they have something I might want, I won’t be very long,’ and, of course, he walks in the door and I said, ‘Okay, I’ll stay with the car.’

“Going into guitar stores in places like LA, where they knew who Rory was, was always funny because you’d get other guys trying a guitar out and, of course, they’d see him and immediately start a Rory guitar riff at full volume, to show that they knew who he was.

“A lot of the time, my head wouldn’t be in the right space for that, but Rory took it gallantly. Anyway, he was in there and I was outside with the car. You’re not supposed to do it, but I kept feeding quarters into the parking meter, hoping the attendant wouldn’t spot me doing it, but I was getting so bored.”

“But then I realised we were parked outside a pawn shop, and I kind of looked and I thought, ‘Oh, I wonder if they have any spare guitar cases.’ We had this ongoing thing where Rory was picking up loads of guitars, but none of them had decent cases – or sometimes the original cases had been lost or they weren’t up to touring.

“And I thought, ‘Well, I’ll kill five minutes.’ So I went into the store and I said, ‘Would you have any guitar cases?’ and the guy said, ‘Oh, do you not want to buy a guitar?’ and I said, ‘No, no, I haven’t got the money for that.’ I was like, you know, pleading poverty.

“I’d seen one case that looked good, but he said, ‘Oh, well, you’d have to buy this guitar to get the case.’ So I looked at it and it was a Gretsch Corvette. So I said, ‘How much do you want for that, then?’ and he said, ‘Oh, it’s $500.’ But I was seriously focusing on the very good case that it had. So in the end, I got him down to $150.

“I took it out and put it in the boot of the car, fed the meter some more and waited for Rory. Rory eventually came over, all disappointed that he hadn’t found anything, and I said, ‘Well, Rory, look, you’ll probably kill me for this, but I spotted they had a guitar… Actually, the case is probably much better than the guitar is.’

“So he said, ‘What is it?’ and I said, ‘It’s a Gretsch,’ and he said, ‘A Gretsch?’ and I opened the trunk of the car, he looked at it and he just closed it down again and said, ‘Let’s get out of here before they realise what they’ve sold you.’ [laughs]”

Larry McCray released his debut album, Ambition, way back in 1990, heralding the arrival of a new force in modern blues guitar.

He not only had great songs – mixing elements of soul and funk with his powerhouse blues originals – but every one was packed with explosive guitar fills and solos that were mini masterclasses in intensity and phrasing.

McCray also possessed a fantastically expressive voice, one that was able to deliver everything from a whisper to a scream with complete conviction.

Drawing from the influence of the three Kings – Albert, Freddie and B.B. – with a little Albert Collins thrown in, McCray added his own unique mojo to the pot, utilizing a searing sustain and the kind of chops usually reserved for the shred arena.

Following a string of successful albums in the ’90s, it looked like McCray was set to become part of the blues establishment, but his career got waylaid by personal issues.

Enter Joe Bonamassa and Josh Smith in 2022, responding to a query from McCray. They worked with Larry to produce what was, effectively, his comeback album, Blues Without You, released in 2022 on Bonamassa’s KTBA label.

The overwhelmingly positive response the record received led to the release of Heartbreak City in 2025, which was only McCray’s 10th album in a 35-year career of “all killer, no filler” records.

This year should see McCray build on the success of recent years to rightfully claim his place as one of the most important names on the blues scene. He has tentative plans to record an album with his brothers, Steve on drums and Paul on bass.

”We started off as the McCray Brothers, so it would be full circle for me,” he says. McCray is also delighted to be taking his son, Bleau Otis of the Bleau Otis Band, on the road with him.

A lifelong guitar nerd, McCray was also excited to talk to Guitar World about why the following three (or so) guitars are the most important in his career.

Gibson Flying V (1967)

In the ’80s, I was playing in clubs, working for General Motors and playing a Strat. My first professional tour was in 1990 as part of Gary Moore’s Still Got the Blues tour, which kicked off in the U.K.

When I first arrived and saw his rig and heard the sounds he was getting from a humbucker compared to my single-coils, it really made me think. As soon as I got home, I started looking for something with humbuckers.

I had no experience of playing Les Pauls, etc., at that time. A lot of blues guys were playing ES-335s, but I wanted something different. I saw the caramel-colored Flying V reissue in the store and – bearing in mind that I was a huge Albert King fan – I decided to go for the V, which ended up being my favorite guitar. I paid less than $1,000 for it, which works out pretty cheap after all these years of constant use.

I loved the way you had such easy access to the upper register; you could get all the way up to the top of the neck. It had a real fast neck, a great sound and it was a little bit different. It definitely affected the way that I played, with having so much sustain from those pickups.

I very rarely modify any guitars, but for this one I had some double-wound humbuckers with a splitter fitted to give me even more options. I still take this guitar on the road. I play everything; I always say when I die someone else will be playing them anyway, so I might as well get as much time with them as I can while I’m still here.

Gary was the first person I ever saw with a Soldano amp, so when I got home I got one of those as well. On that first tour, Gary and I had a great rapport, and at the end of the tour he gave me a gold-finish Custom Shop ’57 Strat reissue with a special plate on the back that said “To Larry, from Gary.” I still have that guitar.

My first good guitar was a ’61 ES-330 that my brother-in-law, who worked at GM, bought from a co-worker. It got stolen, which really pained me because I loved that guitar, but I haven’t had too much bad luck on the road with guitars.

Gibson Les Paul 1959 Goldtop reissue

I reached a point by the 2000s when I was feeling a little unsure about my sound. I had a rethink about what worked best for me. I think my friendship with Warren Haynes around that time made me reassess the worth of a Les Paul.

I happened to run into Jimmy Archey, the customer-relations rep for Gibson, in New York City. I went to their offices and they gave me a fantastic Les Paul Custom ’58 reissue in white. It had a thick, baseball-bat neck. I’d been playing it and talking to them about how great it was, and they asked me if I wanted it. You can imagine how amazing that was.

Not only that, but they also gave me a black Blueshawk, which was another great guitar. They were the first guitars I ever got directly from a manufacturer; once I signed with Pointblank Records in the Nineties, all kinds of opportunities opened up.

Once I realized how much I liked the white ’58, a couple of years later I came across the ’59 goldtop, which was a little lighter. I was reaching the point where the weight of a regular Les Paul was becoming uncomfortable on stage, so I appreciated the difference.

I was heavily favoring the goldtop once I got that. At that time, I was probably taking about eight guitars into the studio, including the Gary Moore Strat, the Blueshawk and a Gibson Nighthawk. I was also using a prototype 336 that I got from Gibson; I was the first artist to play that prototype, which I had for about a year.

One night I was playing at a place called Manny’s Car Wash in NYC, and Jimmy Archey asked me to bring the prototype to the show; they took it back and gave me one of the very first production models. That must have been one of the first they produced.

Heritage Artisan Aged 1215 Build H-150

Heritage Guitars is based where I live – in Michigan. This guitar is based on a Les Paul, but – very importantly for me – it’s chambered, which relieves a lot of the weight. I’m always hunting for lighter guitars, and it’s the guitar I’ve been playing the most since I got it.

This is a standard model that they produce that anyone can buy. The quality is amazing, but I’m also working with them on something with some custom specs. I’d always wanted to give Heritage a try but couldn’t seem to get around to it as they don’t have them in a lot of stores, so I went to their factory.

A friend put me in touch with Pete Farmer, master luthier at Heritage, and he invited me to come over and try something. He had picked what he thought would be the ideal guitar for me. As soon as he put it in my hands I said, “What do I need to do to get this guitar?” It feels like a vintage guitar; the finish is called Dirty Lemon Burst.

The pickups are their own custom shop humbuckers. I believe the body is made from ultra-light mahogany with the curly maple top, and the neck is rosewood. It’s finished in nitrocellulose, so it’s got the feel of a premium vintage guitar. I guess it’s going to be all over my next record; it’s a long way from my first guitar, which was a Silvertone 335-styled model.

When I’m just sitting around bored at home, I reach for my 1960 Harmony H160. It belonged to my older brother, James, who passed away in 2019. As a tribute to him, I had it fixed; it sounds great and I use it all the time.

He drew – on the guitar – an image of a guy with dark glasses and an Afro smoking a cigarette, and he called it Daddy Kool, so when I’m sitting around, that’s what I reach for – Daddy Kool.

I should also mention the Guild Polara S-100 I played a lot on my last album. It’s got a unique mix of Gibson and Fender. I like it so much that I asked Guild about maybe doing some kind of signature model, but I’ve had no luck so far.

I think it’s hard for blues artists to get endorsement deals in the current market, but hey, if someone at Guild is reading this, give me a call! [Laughs].

• Heartbreak City is out now via KTBA.
• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

When GW connected with blues road warrior Walter Trout, he was about to embark on a songwriting session for the album that would become late 2025’s Sign of the Times. Trout had set aside eight weeks to write the songs, prep his band and get the album recorded before heading back out on tour for the bulk of the year. For Trout, the live experience never gets old.

“Every night there’s the possibility of doing the best or worst gig you’ve ever done,” he says. “Every venue and crowd is different, and it never gets boring. This was my childhood dream. Now I’m living that dream.”

Unsurprisingly, given his long and colorful history, Trout has no shortage of anecdotes of a life spent playing the blues – including many he’d rather not immortalize in print.

Trout confesses to being pretty much a “one-guitar guy,” and these days that’d be his signature Walter Trout model, built by Michael Delaney (Delaney Guitars) and modeled closely on the now-retired 1973 Fender Strat he’s played for most of his career. Unsurprisingly, that old Strat is one of the three most important guitars Trout has owned. We’ll let him take it from here.

1. Guyatone LG55W

The first guitar I had was an acoustic. After a while I wanted to go electric, and this was the only guitar I could afford. I have a picture of me playing it when I was 14, but I couldn’t remember what make it was.

I put the photo on Facebook ahead of this interview to see if someone could ID it, and a guitar builder contacted me. Not only did he tell me the model, but also which stores sold them in the ’60s. I don’t remember where or when I bought it, but I played it for a while.

The picture was taken in 1965 in my friend Steve’s basement; he was a drummer, and there was a bass player named Jeff. The three of us were probably trying to figure out a Beatles song; there are a lot of chords in those songs. I did a few shows with that guitar – at parties and basements.

I convinced our high school to let us play at a dance. We were about a minute into Born in Chicago by Paul Butterfield, and they pulled the plug on our amps and put on a record by the Supremes. I went to school on Monday and kids were shouting, “Hey, Trout – you guys fucking suck!” [Laughs]

In 1968, I bought a Les Paul. That’s when I moved into the guitar big leagues. The Guyatone was adequate for my first attempts at playing lead guitar; I wanted to play solos, and that guitar was my route into it. But there was a fire at my house, and I lost the Guyatone. I wish I still had it – just for the sentimental value.

On the plus side, with part of the insurance money I was able to buy the Les Paul. It was a reissue of a goldtop. My grandmother drove me to the store. There were racks of used Les Pauls.

No-one really wanted them then, so I’m sure there would have been some ’50s models. She was saying, “Buy one of those for $70. They look the same and they’re way cheaper.” Sadly, I insisted I needed a new one for $200.

2. Aria LW15TB 

I bought it in 1981 in Sydney when I was touring Australia with Canned Heat. We were staying in a hotel, and I wanted to get an acoustic to play in my room. I found it in a pawn shop for $70. It looked brand new, and it played beautifully. The neck is amazing; it almost plays like an electric.

About 35 years ago, a friend borrowed it for a couple of days, but he sat on it and crushed it. I took it to Doc Pittillo at the Guitar Doctor in Costa Mesa, California, who’s been working on my guitars for decades, and he said it would be $300 to fix it.

I told my friend, and he couldn’t believe it, given how cheap the guitar was – but I insisted he pay me. Doc did an astounding job. The sound wasn’t affected at all, and it’s almost impossible to see the joint where he repaired it. I’ve written the majority of my songs on this guitar.

The other acoustic I treasure is a Martin D-28. Bob Dylan was a huge influence on me, and he’s what made me want to play guitar. I lived near Rutgers University [New Jersey], and every Friday night they’d have a coffee house called the Perimeter. I played there every week.

Everyone would get a turn and do about half an hour, but as I got better, people would ask me if I’d back them up. I really felt like I needed to get a good acoustic, so in 1968, with the help of my parents, I bought a D-28. The guy I bought it from worked at Martin; he was the inlay man.

It had been his guitar, and he’d experimented on it. He’d inlaid it to make it look like a D-45, so it has mother-of-pearl all over it. But he messed up a little around the sound hole, where he’d sanded a touch too hard and left indentations in the wood, so he sold it to me very cheaply. It has a wonderful sound. Whenever you hear any acoustic guitar on my records, it’s most likely the Martin.

1973 Fender Stratocaster

I dropped that first Les Paul, and the headstock broke off. I was so young and stupid that I didn’t realize they could fix it! The same guy from the Martin factory bought it from me for $80. He fixed it and sold it for a good amount of money. I bought an ES-335 after I broke the Les Paul, but soon after I got it, I was at a jam session in Philadelphia, and a guy asked me if I wanted to try his Strat.

I played it and thought I’d found the love of my life. Shortly after that, I moved to California. I had my D-28, my 335 and a Fender Super Reverb. I was in a VW bug, I had all my clothes, half a pound of weed, 30 hits of LSD and $50. I hallucinated my way across the country. [Laughs] When I got there, I got a job very quickly as the lead singer in a country band.

With my first paycheck, I bought the Strat, a new 1973 model. That’s been it for me ever since; it’s still the best guitar I’ve ever played. I won’t take it on the road anymore. I know you’re not supposed to like ’70s Strats, but when someone tells me what I should do or like, I do the opposite.

It's been re-fretted maybe 12 times. The only modification I’ve made is to hook up one of the tone controls to the bridge pickup, which means the neck pickup doesn’t have a tone control. I make that modification on all my Strats.

I sweated so much over the years that the middle pickup started to get really quiet because the wire inside rusted. Seymour Duncan told me that he had some of the actual wire that they used for those pickups, so he rewound it and made it exactly as it was. It started off blazing white, but now it’s yellow and beat to shit.

I was touring with Canned Heat in Alaska in a small, six-seater plane. It was 40 below zero and the Strat was in the hold under the plane. I got into the airport, opened the case and the finish cracked in a million places in front of my eyes because of the sudden temperature change. Those millions of cracks picked up the smoke in every bar I played – it’s fucking nicotine. You could scrape that guitar, smoke the residue and get strung out.

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

A topic that’s near and dear to guitar players everywhere is pickups – what to use, what we love about them, and how to set them up for optimal performance. For our discussion, I’ll be using two examples of what is essentially the same guitar — a 1958 goldtop Gibson Les Paul Standard with PAF humbucking pickups and a 1956 goldtop Les Paul Standard with P-90 pickups.

Let’s first talk about setting up the pickups. I like the pickup height to be close to the strings, especially the bridge pickup. This results in the most output and brightness, which is the kind of attack I like to hear.

Pickup height is adjusted by using a screwdriver to turn the mounting screws clockwise or counterclockwise. With humbuckers, I like the front, or neck, pickup to be “wooly” – fat-sounding and with some distortion – but clear.

Be careful, however, not to raise it too close to the strings, as the magnets can start to interfere with the strings’ vibrations and cause notes to sound out of tune.

Figure 1 is an E minor pentatonic-based phrase played with the neck humbucker. When I switch to the bridge pickup, as I do in Figure 2, I like the output to be balanced with that of the neck pickup, so that the only thing changing is an increase in the amount of high end, which serves as a sort of solo boost.

In Figure 3, bars 1-5, I have both pickups on, which produces a nice blend between the fatness of the neck pickup and the “cut” of the bridge pickup. This example is played in the key of A, with lines based on the A minor pentatonic scale (A, C, D, E, G), with the inclusion of the major 3rd, C#, alluding to an A7 chord. In bar 5, I switch to the bridge pickup only.

With some P-90-equipped guitars, the neck pickup is too close to the strings and the bridge pickup is too far away. If you were to leave it that way, the instrument will never sound sonically balanced, so follow the same height adjustment guidance given for humbuckers.

P-90s are single-coil pickups, so their overall sound is more sparkly and clear than that of humbuckers, especially with a clean tone. But when overdriven, they will deliver a fat sound that’s killer. Being single-coil pickups, however, they can be prone to noise and hum, so you have to try and address that.

Figure 4 is played with the neck P-90, featuring lines based on the C# minor pentatonic scale (C#, E, F#, G,# B).

In Figure 5, I switch to the bridge pickup, and move from B7 to E7 with lines based on E minor pentatonic.

Both humbuckers and P-90s have their ideal applications, and for many players, including me, the variations in sound, feel and texture are indispensable.

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

Eric Clapton brought a show in Madrid, Spain, to a premature end after he was hit by an object thrown by an audience member.

As captured in footage from the show, Slowhand was nearing the end of his performance at the Movistar Arena last Thursday (May 7) when what appeared to be a vinyl record was thrown, hitting the guitarist in the chest.

Clapton was winding down the set at the time, having just finished performing his cover of J.J. Cale’s Cocaine. Because of the incident, he didn’t return for the expected encore, which would have been Before You Accuse Me.

“Very sad image today in Eric Clapton concert in Madrid,” wrote on X account. “Some guy threw something to EC at the end, ending with no encore.”

Clapton was in the middle of an EU tour, which is set to conclude in Germany this week with shows at the SAP Arena in Mannheim (May 13); Lanxess Arena in Koln (May 15); and Olympiastadion München (May 17).

The blues guitar icon will return to the US later this year for a six-date tour of North America, kicking off September 6 in Detroit and wrapping up in Kansas City on September 17.

Like the Europe shows, Clapton will be joined by his usual backing band comprising Doyle Bramhall II and Nathan East, as well as drummer Sonny Emory, and keyboardists Chris Stainton and Tim Carmon.

Visit Eric Clapton’s website for a full list of dates and tickets.

It’s safe to say that B.B. King was a Gibson man through and through. Aside from his brief dalliance with a Fender Esquire in the ’50s, B.B.’s favoured first-call guitars all started their lives at a Gibson factory.

The teenaged Blues Boy’s first instrument was a modest L-30 f-hole acoustic bought around 1940, soon going electric with a retrofit DeArmond pickup.

In the ’50s, as well as that Fender Esquire, he played a few other Gibsons, including a Byrdland, an ES-125 or an ES-175, as well as an ES-5N – influenced by his hero T-Bone Walker, who used an identical instrument.

By the early years of the ’60s, B.B. had settled on a sunburst ES-335 with Bigsby, a custom order with a 345-style Varitone switch and stereo wiring. Occasionally, he played a regular 345, but this 335/345 was clearly a favourite of B.B.’s, likely the guitar he played on his legendary Live At The Regal recording in November ’64.

Later in the ’60s, B.B. shifted to the model that’s now most associated with him. Gibson’s top semi-solid, the ES-355, was a luxurious guitar that seemed the right kind of high-end instrument for a musician considered by then to be one of America’s most impressive bluesmen.

B.B. continued to attract new fans, swelling the ranks of the blues faithful, and maintained his seemingly endless life on the road and in the studio. Meanwhile, Gibson decided to build on its successful endorsement deal with B.B. to develop a signature model, thanks mostly to the enthusiasm of the company’s R&D boss Bruce Bolen and salesman Dennis Chandler.

The first signs of this closer link to B.B. had come in the shape of a one-off guitar that Bolen presented to B.B. in 1978.

This ornate 355 had floral fingerboard markers like those of the contemporary Les Paul Artisan, and engraved into the tailpiece cover was a touching message: “To B.B. King: An artist’s music represents his sensitivity, growth, and way of life. A legend in your own time, this guitar is a symbol of our growth together. With sincere appreciation, Your friends at Gibson.”

B.B. played that guitar for a few years, but by summer 1980 he’d switched to another new Gibson, a prototype much closer to the forthcoming signature model. Bolen had explained to B.B. that its body would not have f-holes, to allow for more volume with less feedback – and the visual bonus of a sleekly distinctive look.

Production versions finally appeared during 1981: the B.B. King Standard, with a list price of $1,389, and the B.B. King Custom, at $1,789. They had several Gibson high-end features, including Crank fold-out tuner winders, a TP-6 fine-tuning tailpiece, a Tune-o-matic mounted into Sustain Sisters brass studs, two ‘Pat-Appl-For’ humbuckers, and stereo circuitry.

The Custom boasted gold-plated metalwork and a Varitone, while the Standard had chrome-plated hardware and regular controls.

The Standard lasted only a few years, but a Custom-like model is still in the line today as the B.B. King Lucille Legacy, alongside an Epiphone B.B. King Lucille.

Through most of his long and successful career, B.B. played a series of 355s, each one in turn known to him as Lucille. Quite how many Lucilles there were is unclear, although in his 1996 autobiography B.B. said he was already up to Lucille number 16.

Back in 1969, when Gibson and B.B. signed their endorsement deal, BB soon began to appear in publicity material.

A striking ad from the early ’70s celebrates “the man and the woman” – B.B. King is the man, of course, and “Lucille, the King’s Gibson guitar” is the woman. “They’ve been places few ever dream of getting,” ran the ad’s copy.

“To the bluest. The lostest. The downest. To the top of the heap. The mountain. The world. If you’re going places on the guitar, wouldn’t it be great to travel with a woman like Lucille?”

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

Laura Cox admits she didn’t have much of a goal in mind when she started posting her classic rock covers on this new thing called YouTube back in 2006.

“I was a teenager, so the whole thing was just fun,” she says. “Pretty soon I was getting millions of views – it was crazy. I think what people liked was that I didn’t take things so seriously. I was just enjoying myself and sharing music I loved.”

By her mid-twenties, however, the Anglo-French guitarist and singer got serious and formed an eponymous band, with which she released a series of albums (2017’s Hard Blues Shot, 2019’s Burning Bright and 2023’s Head Above Water) that highlighted her gutsy singing and playing – she’s a southpaw who plays righty – along with her rapidly maturing songwriting skills.

“My heroes are people like Joe Bonamassa, Mark Knopfler and Angus Young,” she says, “I think you can hear those influences across those records.”

For her new album, Trouble Coming, Cox sidelined her live band in the studio and recorded with the No Money Kids, a duo she describes as “the French Black Keys.” The result is an album that sounds and feels like something of a breakthrough.

Blazing tracks like No Need to Try Harder and the aptly named Do I Have Your Attention are still rooted in blues rock, but they have a lo-fi garage edginess not found in previous efforts.

Cox tosses out the rulebook on the bluesy, tension-filled mood piece title track, eschewing standard verse-chorus-bridge songcraft, on which she bags lead solos in favor of swampy, distorted vamping and atmospheric slide work.

“I felt confident in the song and realized that it didn’t need a solo,” she says. “I still love playing guitar more than anything, but it was important for me to grow as a songwriter and all-around artist, and that meant I had to do things differently.”

She laughs. “For the first time, I’m actually enjoying listening to myself. I play the record in my car, my bedroom, even in the kitchen. It’s like I’m listening to somebody else’s record. That’s the biggest success I could ask for. I’m really happy about this music.”

• Trouble Coming is out now via earMUSIC.
• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

Late session legend Steve Cropper recorded a song with Eric Clapton shortly before his death, and it’s set to be released tomorrow (May 7).

“We lost a true architect of soul in December 2025,” a post from Cropper’s Instagram, featuring an image of the pair warmly embracing, reads. “Steve Cropper’s sound, feel, and songwriting shaped generations – and his music still speaks louder than ever.

“Ticket First (feat. Eric Clapton) is part of his final body of work – a moment where two legends met in the studio and pushed each other to something unforgettable. What started as a joke turned into a track that Steve knew had magic in it. It will come out this Thursday, May 7.”

Judging from the post, we have one last Steve Cropper album to look forward to. The guitarist released two solo efforts in his later years: Fire It Up in 2021 and Friendlytown, which features Billy Gibbons and Brian May, in 2024. It seems his inspiration didn't stop there.

Thankfully, then, it’s not a long wait to hear what is on paper – and almost certainly in reality – a very exciting collaboration. We're intrigued to hear how, exactly, a collaboration between two icons started as a joke, too…

In his heyday, Cropper played on a dizzying number of records as a versatile session player for the Stax Records house band. That included work with Otis Redding and Neil Young, as well as writing the timeless Booker T. & the M.G.'s cut Green Onions.

He famously learned to play rhythm and lead parts simultaneously to navigate the label’s budget restraints, and was met with an outpouring of love following his death last year, aged 84.

“Words fail me in describing his impact,” wrote Joe Bonamassa, while Mick Fleetwood called him a “trailblazer,” and Tommy Emmanuel said he was “one of the most influential guitar players of our time.”

As Bonamassa says, it’s hard to quantify just how much Cropper has imprinted his effervescent personality onto the guitar landscape in just a few words. Tales of his generosity and warmth, as Sheri Miller says of her time in the studio with her hero in 2012, and humility – he told Total Guitar that his playing “has always sucked” in 2024 – help paint just a corner of the picture of his life and career.

And as the stories that weave themselves into Friendlytown's licks prove, Cropper still had fire in his belly until the end. Brian May had turned down a chance to feature on the record, but when Cropper turned his rejection email into a song, he went back on his decision and brought his flair to an album that, until now, appeared to be his last hurrah.

As a supporting guitarist for acts like the Mannish Boys, Lara Price and the late Candye Kane, Laura Chavez has always deliberately avoided outshining the musicians she backs.

That hasn’t stopped aficionados from taking notice of her skills, though: Guitar Player magazine counted her as one of “50 Sensational Female Guitarists,” and in 2023, she became the first-ever female winner in the Instrumentalist – Guitar category at the Blues Music Awards.

Chavez’s debut solo album, the all-instrumental My Voice, finds the California native taking a variety of styles to the fitting room. While there’s plenty of her stock-in-trade Texas and Chicago blues to be found, she and her band also tackle genres like funk, soul and R&B.

Thrown into the mix are reimaginations of tunes like CCR’s Born on the Bayou, Booker T. and the M.G.s’ Chinese Checkers and the Mexican folk songs El Cascabel and La Llorona.

“Stylistically, I feel like there’s something on the album for everyone,” the guitarist notes. “It’s kind of all-over-the-place, because I am also.”

Chavez hopes My Voice’s musical diversity might influence young guitarists to stay open to different genres.

“When I was young, if I didn’t think [certain music] was ‘blues’ enough, [I decided,] ‘I’m not going to listen to that.’” She adds that perhaps the new album’s array of styles will encourage listeners “not to do the same thing I did back then.”

As for the title My Voice, Chavez explains, “The idea of singing absolutely freaks me out. I hate speaking in public or speaking on the microphone. For my whole life, in so many ways, the guitar has been how I express myself.”

A key element of Chavez’s voice as a guitarist is her hybrid picking technique, which she says is “partly how I’m able to get certain melody lines and keep the rhythm and the chords going at the same time.”

Another defining characteristic of her sound is her use of the bridge pickup on her go-to instrument, a Fiesta Red 1960 Stratocaster Relic issued in 1996.

“It’s the one guitar that I pick up, and I don’t have to think when I play. I can always dial it in somehow to make it sound appropriate to whatever gig I’m doing, even if it’s a jazz gig. It’s very distressed at this point. All of the relic-ing is authentic for me!”

• My Voice is out now via Ruf.
• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

When Jerry Jemmott got the call to work with B.B. King on his Live & Well record in 1969, he was far from a new kid on the block. Jemmott was a go-to session bassist for Atlantic and so was brimming with confidence when he slung his bass over his shoulder and hit the studio.

“I was a jazz cat, but I grew up knowing B.B. King as The King of the Blues,” Jemmott says of his early impressions of the guitarist. “He was dedicated to it down to the bone, but he liked jazz also. I found him to be humble, fearless, intuitive and quick-witted.”

Jemmott recalls working on the Well side of Live & Well over two nights in New York City. He, along with several other studio aces, laid down so much music that King ended up with enough material for two follow-up records: 1969’s Completely Well and 1970’s Indianola Mississippi Seeds.

After that, Jemmott didn’t see B.B. until 1982, when they rekindled their friendship, which lasted until the end of King’s life.

As for how working with King impacted him, Jemmott smiles, saying: “I would go on from there to record My Way with Irene Reid, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised with Gil Scott-Heron, and the Live At Fillmore West albums with Aretha and King Curtis. But bringing B.B. King’s music and legacy to the world of popular music was an honour I will treasure and something he would never let me forget.”

What led you to work with B.B. in the late ’60s?

Bill Symzyck was producing the B.B. King ‘live at the Village Gate’ album, Live & Well. He said that he had only 20 minutes of good, quality-sounding material and convinced the record label to produce a studio album to complete the time needed for a full album.

He called on drummer Herb Lovelle, who – with bassist Leonard Gaskin – had made Bob Dylan’s first successful studio album, Free Wheelin’. They ended up calling me to play bass for the Well side of the record, which was in the studio.

It must have been a thrill to get that call.

I got the call to do the session from Herb Lovelle at Jerry Ragovoy’s legendary Hit Factory on 47th Street, where we often worked and were booked for two nights from seven to 10 at night, and 11 to two in the morning in the summer of 1969. These were normally live sessions with charts, no tracking. We all went down together: rhythm section, horns and vocals.

What was it like working with B.B. on those sessions, and what tracks did you record?

These 1969 sessions, where Why I Sing the Blues and The Thrill Is Gone were recorded, demanded my utmost attention and were so much fun. His aura was something to behold, standing in front of me with Lucille and a legal pad full of lyrics on a music stand, playing and singing with the conviction that is common among all great artists.

Did the songs come together off the cuff, or did BB have pre-written ideas for you to play?

He was the only one who had anything written out initially, and we would write out stuff once we established our parts as needed. Herb Lovelle, Hugh McCracken, Al Kooper and later Paul Harris co-signed my unique interpretation of his music.

When [B.B.] said in an interview for Guitar Player that “[Jerry] never does anything just because it’s right to do, he likes to do it because it feels good doing it”, it reminded me how perceptive and adventurous he was during those sessions that were so much fun.

What was B.B. like when he put his guitar down?

We had a good time groovin’ with The King. I remember him telling me that Billy Butler was the [soul/jazz] guitar player whom he admired most, and that he would put a lot of treble on his amp to get the sound he wanted out of Lucille. Working and being in his presence was magical.

How do you look back on your playing during those sessions with B.B.?

Well, Bass Player magazine would go on to say, ‘There is a problem in analysing Jerry Jemmott’s transcendent funk-blues grooves with B.B. King; it’s tough to maintain focus while you’re shaking your butt off!” [laughs] Contrary to what Bill Symzyck has said, we were not ‘young blues musicians’.

Except for the keyboard players, me, Herb and Hugh had recorded together in a variety of genres quite often. And it was Herb’s idea – who assisted in all of the mixing from the very first session onward – to put strings on The Thrill Is Gone when they were mixing and contracted the brilliant arranger, Bert DeCoteaux.

Take note that after B.B. sings the first two bars, Herb plays the back beat only on beat 4, which complements my relentless samba groove, and he continues this pattern when B.B. sings, to the very end. This gave B.B. the support he needed to tell his story.

There was a method to our madness! Between those June and November sessions, we recorded so much music that there was enough left over to go onto two albums, Completely Well and Indianola Mississippi Seeds.

Did you get to hook up with B.B. again later in life?

It wasn’t until 1982 that we would meet again. I went to his show in Newark, New Jersey, and as I entered his dressing room after the show, he announced to everyone who I was, got down on his knees and bowed, waving his arms up and down [laughs]. I was never so embarrassed, but he was that passionate and true in his sincerity.

Over the next 30 years, I would check in on him every so often. Anybody who’s worked for him will have a similar story to tell of his vast expressions of honesty and compassion.

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

Aside from carving out a space for himself in the contemporary blues-rock scene, Jared James Nichols also has a side hustle as a podcaster, with the No Cover Charge Podcast, co-hosted with Tyler Larson, promising guitar aficionados and gearheads an “all-access backstage pass to the world of guitar.”

And, one of Nichols’ most memorable episodes is having Joe Bonamassa test out one of Gary Moore’s most prized amps – his 1989 Soldano SLO-100 head – which the Nerdville owner recently acquired at the Final Encore auction last year.

“Joe must have balls of steel because when we got there, the amp hadn’t been serviced or even turned on,” Nichols tells Guitar World in an upcoming interview about the experience.

“It literally just showed up in a shipping crate. It was a bit like finding a classic muscle car, sticking some gas in, and firing it up. Joe was cranking it right away with a 1959 Les Paul.”

As Nichols explains, in the actual video, “you can see the power sizzle down, shut off, and then come back. It did that a few times. It’s like we were feeling Gary Moore’s spirit in the room.”

The podcast – and Nichols’ own reputation – means he gets to test out some pretty epic (and iconic) gear.

“I feel pretty spoiled when I think about all the cool shit I get to be around,” he says matter-of-factly. “I also did a video on Gary’s JTM45 Bluesbreaker, which another friend got at auction. I own Gary’s original Guv'nor pedal, so we used that with a 1959 Les Paul.

“Here’s the crazy shit: the power went out four times, which has never happened before,” he divulges. “ Then this horrible rainstorm came. Something weird and energetic happened. I got the chills and remember saying, ‘Dude, I think Gary Moore’s here.’”

Guitar World’s full interview with Jared James Nichols will be published in the coming weeks.

In related news, Nichols recently revealed why he stopped obsessing over acquiring more gear – and homed in on his playing instead.

One of the wonderful things about the acoustic guitar is its ability to be completely self-sufficient. More than that, in the right hands it can even give the illusion of two or more guitars playing together. Nobody knew this better than players such as Lightnin’ Hopkins, Big Bill Broonzy and, of course, Robert Johnson.

The demo piece isn’t modeled on any particular one of these, but it borrows from that country/folk-blues style that inspired a surprising amount of the ’60s Blues Invasion and rock bands of the ’70s.

As a general rule, the picking-hand thumb plays the bass part and establishes the rhythm, with the remaining fingers adding chords and/or melody on top.

However, if you watch Big Bill Broonzy’s picking hand, he’ll play simultaneous notes in a triad like a classical player, use his index finger in a flicking motion across the strings, and occasionally strum across a chord with his thumb. There are also times when he’ll accent a downwards strum in an almost flamenco style.

It’s hard to say how systematic or methodical he was about his technique – it was most likely developed by instinct over time – but it is very effective. That’s not to say we can’t pick up tips and tricks by watching or listening carefully, though.

For this reason, the picking-hand technique is left to you in the example piece, but there is a logic to assigning the bass notes to your thumb.

Going on from there, treat this as a starting point for your own experiments. Key considerations are to establish a strong rhythm before getting too fancy with licks, and keep it simple when accompanying a vocal. See you next time!

We start with a classic descending chord line, using syncopation between the bass line and top triads. It’s also nice to give those triads a little vibrato if you can. This leads to an abrupt stop on the A7, followed by the piano-style lick that will lead us to the IV chord (D7). You might need to work up some stamina in your fretting hand for those hammer-on and pull-off licks.

However many arguments exist for the superior tone of heavy acoustic guitar strings and a high action, this stuff works better with a lighter touch – there’s a happy medium to be had with action height and string gauge.

Bars 4 to 8 spend most of the time sticking to rhythmic patterns, though there are a couple of flourishes. Note that open strings are often used to facilitate more seamless position changes, such as the one down to A, where there are a few quick-fire changes – almost a chord melody approach here.

Bars 8 to 12 borrow more classic moves, but there is a bit of a shift in the syncopation at times, maybe more than you might typically hear, but this piece tries to cover much ground in a short time.

The final descending chords take some inspiration from Jimmy Page’s ending to Babe I’m Gonna Leave You. The swung feel stops and we slow down for that last rake across A major.

Hear it here

Big Bill Broonzy – The Bill Broonzy Story

A strongly rhythmic player, Big Bill was very adept at creating the illusion of bass/rhythm, choppy chords and ringing top notes. Seek out his performances of Hey Hey, Worried Man Blues and This Train.

There is some really clear footage of his playing available online, which is great for analysing his technique and learning his approach. It sounds (and looks) as though he was able to coax a lot of volume out of the guitar with quite a relaxed technique.

Lightnin’ Hopkins – Lightnin’ And The Blues

Though he used a thumb-pick, Hopkins used thumb and fingers to create simultaneous rhythm and melody like Big Bill Broonzy. Hearing him play Baby Please Don’t Go, Have You Ever Loved A Woman and Ain’t It Crazy, it’s easy to imagine a young Van Morrison, Jimmy Page and others getting hooked on this style and wanting to emulate it.

However, there is a suggestion of power in the solo acoustic guitar, which arguably doesn’t need a loud rock ’n’ roll band to back it up.

Robert Johnson – The Complete Recordings

Regarded by many, including Eric Clapton, as the definitive solo blues guitarist, quite a mythology has developed around Robert Johnson. Having a listen to Sweet Home Chicago, Me And The Devil Blues or Devil Got My Woman should explain why.

The recordings are slightly ‘grainy’, but the power of his playing and deftness of touch come through loud and clear. Perhaps more than anyone’s, Johnson’s music inspired the generations that were to follow.

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

By his own admission, Mike Vernon was no more than a competent guitarist (“I didn’t play anything particularly well”). And while his eponymous Mighty Combo of later years certainly lived up to the billing, it could only ever be an addendum to Vernon’s wider contribution to the British blues scene and, in particular, his showcasing of the great players during the ’60s boom.

As producer of Blues Breakers With Eric Clapton, and such Peter Green-era Fleetwood Mac masterpieces as Albatross and Black Magic Woman – among countless others – there’s an argument that nobody ever caught better electric guitar tone in the bottle.

Born in November 1944, Vernon’s youth echoes many of that era’s rock galacticos: a childhood in Surrey, an early shift in the school choir, the epiphany of imported American rhythm and blues, then a shift to the big city with his studies at Croydon Art College.

It was here that Vernon began following the bands of homegrown movers ’n’ shakers Alexis Korner and Cyril Davies – and soon the younger man proved equally influential, co-founding the tastemaker fanzine R&B Monthly with his brother Richard, widely read across the London scene.

After blanket-bombing the capital’s record labels with job applications – and landing an A&R assistant post at Decca in 1962 – Vernon pitched himself as producer for John Mayall’s so-called ‘Beano’ album of 1966.

The material and personnel were solid gold, with the wily bandleader recruiting the unfeasibly talented former Yardbird Eric Clapton and setting him loose on standards like Freddie King’s Hide Away and Memphis Slim’s Steppin’ Out. But a vital element, too, was Vernon’s production, which caught all the fit-to-burst intensity of Clapton’s Les Paul and Marshall combo.

“Nobody had ever made that kind of noise on record before,” he told this writer. “It was such a huge noise. Eric put the cornerstone down. There it was. Y’know, ‘That’s how it’s supposed to be.’ And everyone just followed him.”

When ‘Beano’ unexpectedly hit UK No 6, making a star of Clapton, Vernon’s career was off to the races, too. And as the Bluesbreakers line-up evolved – with first Peter Green, then Mick Taylor, taking the spot of the Cream-bound Clapton – the producer showed a sharp ear for the sonic landscape each player needed to shine.

Alongside his own hugely respected Blue Horizon record label – co-founded in 1965 with Neil Slaven – Vernon was drafted to work on Green’s post-Bluesbreakers project, Fleetwood Mac.

“I barely knew Peter when I made the Bluesbreakers’ A Hard Road album. He wasn’t as assertive during the course of that album as he became once he had his own band. Peter, of course, was outrageous, just the most wonderful player. He was special. There’s no doubt about that.”

Vernon went on to produce British stalwarts like Savoy Brown, Ten Years After and Chicken Shack, while Blue Horizon gave a valuable platform to such seminal-but-fading US blues titans as Otis Spann, Bukka White and Lightnin’ Slim.

“In those days, Freddie King never really made the same sound in the studio as he did live,” he remembered. “So when I had the opportunity of working with him, we made sure the sound got bigger.”

Even after moving to Spain in the post-millennium, Vernon could occasionally be tempted back into the fray when he recognised a stellar talent, manning the desk for Oli Brown’s Heads I Win Tails You Lose (2010), Dani’s Wilde’s Shine (2011) and Laurence Jones’s Take Me High (2016). “Everyone does the copy-and-paste thing now,” said the latter. “But I don’t think anyone else can make an old-school record.”

Looking back in an interview that same year, the only job Vernon squirmed over was the 1967 debut by a then-unknown David Bowie. “I hate talking about it and, to be really truthful, when it was all done and dusted, I was rather glad it was over. It just didn’t do anything for me. I just wanted to get to my next blues session.”

Mike Vernon was a joy to interview – friendly, funny and wearing his fathoms-deep knowledge lightly. But make no mistake: this was one of the chief architects of perhaps the most compelling British guitar movement in history, and it simply wouldn’t have sounded as urgent or exciting without him.

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

The great black post-war bluesmen are almost gone now, and the passing of John P. Hammond – from a cardiac arrest in February at the age of 83 – is a stark reminder that time is also running out for the hip white kids who followed their lead.

“I’ve lost my best friend,” wrote the Grammy-winning guitarist’s frequent collaborator, Paul James, in the first of many tributes. “The blues world has lost a giant.”

From his birth in New York on 13 November 1942 – the eldest son of the noted Columbia Records producer John Henry Hammond, and a drop in the blue bloodline of the unfeasibly wealthy Vanderbilt dynasty – Hammond seemed destined to leave his mark on the world.

His middle name was a hint at the family’s connections, nodding to singer and civil rights activist Paul Robeson. But it was a meeting, in 1949, with another associate of his father – the blues giant Big Bill Broonzy – that proved his awakening.

“By the time I was in my early teens, I was a blues fanatic,” Hammond once said, citing titans such as Lead Belly, Josh White, Brownie McGhee and Chuck Berry, alongside Jimmy Reed’s seminal 1961 Carnegie Hall album. “When I got a guitar, that was it.”

Quitting his studies at Antioch College, Ohio, Hammond performed at the Newport Folk Festival before debuting with 1963’s self-titled album on Vanguard Records (notable as one of the first full-length white folk-blues releases). And while he was not yet much of a songwriter – for now covering the standards of Muddy Waters, Robert Johnson, Son House and Lightnin’ Hopkins – his interpretative skills were clear.

By the mid-’60s, Hammond was a fixture in the coffee houses of New York’s Greenwich Village, where for a time he seemed like the connective tissue between every artist who mattered.

In 1965, his So Many Roads album featured not only Mike Bloomfield but future Band principals Levon Helm, Robbie Robertson and Garth Hudson (it was largely down to Hammond that Bob Dylan chose them as his backing group). Three years later, at the city’s achingly cool Gaslight Café, he was flanked by both Clapton and Hendrix. In 1969, he was briefly bandmates with Duane Allman.

Hammond was arguably just as arresting a live performer as any of the above, ultimately settling on a solo man-and-guitar format that gave full rein to his head-turning acoustic attack (for this, his most famous tool was an ancient steel-bodied National).

“Not only was John a virtuoso on guitar, harp, singing and choosing songs, to me it felt like he was totally possessed by the blues,” wrote Bonnie Raitt. “I’ve never witnessed anyone as swept up and away as John playing his music live. He was the inspiration for teaching myself blues guitar and learning how to sing these songs we loved so much. He made it cool and all right.”

In truth, Hammond never became quite as celebrated as his ’60s peers, especially outside the States. Yet, unlike many bigger names, he survived the decade and proved a long-term talent.

BAFTA-nominated for his soundtrack to 1970’s Dustin Hoffman movie, Little Big Man, he won a Grammy for 1985’s Blues Explosion, and had released some 34 albums when the books were balanced at the time of his death.

The shows he played across those six decades, meanwhile, were beyond calculation. “Since I don’t make rockstar money, I have to play a lot,” reasoned Hammond in a 1995 interview with the Los Angeles Times. “I play smaller theatres and clubs. With experience, you learn how to maintain your energy and not blow it.”

A marathon runner in an industry of sprinters, Hammond was a lifelong ambassador for the blues. He was happy to pass the torch to rolling generations of younger players – but not afraid to occasionally pull rank.

“The first time I met John was on New Year’s Eve in 1991 when he was opening up for Buddy Guy at Irving Plaza in New York,” posted Joe Bonamassa on the day the sad news broke. “I was asked to sit in with Buddy that night. John handed me his 1930s National with 14-gauge strings on it and smiled while I struggled to get anything out of it…!”

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

As a young boy, by way of his father who was involved in the music business, a young Billy Gibbons got the chance to sit in and watch B.B. King do his thing live and in the flesh while in the studio.

Surely, this would have impacted anyone, let alone an aspiring young six-stringer. But judging by Gibbons’ ZZ-Top catalogue, which includes big-time hits and even bigger and very old-school bluesy-meets-rock licks, one could say that said studio foray impacted Gibbons more than most.

As for what he learned as a child watching a legend like King, Gibbons tells Guitarist: “The importance of some serious professionalism at that moment took hold. B.B. and company were, well… they were gettin’ down to business with no foolin’ ‘round.”

Later in life, Gibbons got to know King on a personal level, as well as a professional one. It was only then that he learned the veteran blues icon wasn’t just a hell of a player but a quality person to boot.

“B.B. was all about respecting the opportunity to become a spokesperson of a style [that] was inherited,” Gibbons says. “And then, he developed that style to the level that enthralled friends, fans and followers at every turn.”

Nowadays, Gibbons is the old-guard professor with a guitar in hand who’s impacting millions. It’s the way of things – a proverbial passing of the blues-guitar torch. But even now, when he has a quiet moment, Gibbons still looks back on King’s body of work.

“The early releases found from the Kent label’s catalogue are all worth a deep review,” Gibbons says of his favourites. “The classic shapes of tone and feel continued to surround B.B.’s works right up to the climax of his output. Great stuff, all[-around].

You have a history with B.B. King. For those who don’t know, how did you end up sitting in on a session with him as a young boy?

Interesting encounter, to say the least! A visit to Bill Holford’s ACA Studios in Texas allowed me to jump aboard my dad’s ride to make the trip. Upon arrival, my dad said, ‘Take a seat over in that chair as a band is coming in to make a record!’

Next thing I knew, some guys came in and began arranging some gear, and then I spotted a guitar case entering through the side door… carried by none other than B.B. King. I remained quiet, yet at the same time something exciting was unfolding. When they kicked it in, I knew that was for me!

Gotta say, at seven years old, everything’s still quite new, and being in that room at that moment was simply beyond.

Did sitting in on that session with B.B. do anything to stoke your passion for guitar, or was that a runaway train, so to speak?

No question about it. The impact of that event zeroed in on the sound of electricity and hasn’t changed since. Coincidentally, [at a much later point in time] the sound of an unexpected B.B. shoutout stretched across an avenue in Las Vegas and, as it turned out, we were both residing just a stone’s throw down the same lane!

Upon invitation, we immediately gathered round and reignited a serious friendship, taking on the troubles of the world [laughs.] And then began delving into the depths, going way, way back, touching on Texas, Memphis and Mississippi.

Then there was the impact of some solid spiritual meaning, which appeared to have taken us both to that thing we called ‘the burden’, aka the electric six-string. Great tales ensued and the exchanges became ingrained with a sense of a righteous appreciation of this great American art form, the blues.

As you got older and more experienced as a listener and player, what did you notice about B.B. that perhaps an average listener wouldn’t?

Well, it’s fair to say just about anyone feeling the genuine delivery from B.B. and his entire outfit could take note that something of value was unfolding. B.B. exuded some honest enjoyment while working through years of delivering his inimitable style and savviness.

Have you ever tried to play any of B.B.’s music?

For the recent 10 years, an annual holiday gathering in Texas, known as ‘The Jungle Show’, takes the stage alongside Jimmie Vaughan, Mike ‘The Drifter’ Flanigin and Chris ‘Whipper’ Layton, where we open the performances with our version of one of BB’s great numbers [from the ’60s] named The Jungle.

We’re doing our best to remain interpreters within the scope of the originator. It’s nothing short of a blast.

There’s a story that, as adult, you met B.B. properly when you were 22. Did he remember you from the session you sat in on as a child?

Oh, yeah! In Las Cruces, New Mexico. We met somewhat informally while sharing a dressing room prior to the show, which sparked some lively discussions surrounding guitars. The recollection of that day back in the ’50s from the ACA session in Texas came much later when we gathered to join the tribute recording as B.B. was celebrating turning 80!

That same story says that B.B. asked to play your guitar and commented on how heavy your strings were. Is that true?

Yes. At the time, using heavy-gauge guitar strings was thought necessary for getting a big tone. When B.B. asked to try a few licks on my guitar, he quickly smiled and asked, ‘Why you working so hard?’ He then laid it down to show off a new set of his super-light-gauge strings. It was at that very moment that everything turned around. As B.B. then said, ‘Light is all right!’ [laughs]

How important was that switch to lighter strings when it came to harnessing your tone?

Ironically, the switch to lighten the load, so to speak, was automatic. First came the set of nines, then eights. And now, thanks to Jim Dunlop, we’ve slithered down to sevens. They stretch, stay in tune and they don’t break. B.B., we thank you!

If B.B. were here now, what tone secret or recommendation do you think he’d make?

Prior to his departure, B.B. kindly took time to offer encouragement with enthusiasm toward keeping an eye on authenticity. In as much as one would suspect, B.B. left his mark through so many superb recordings and shared that specialness with many.

From your standpoint, how do you recreate BB’s tone?

Getting close to creating something of a B.B. tone is more about taking time to allow some soul searching and inspiration. T’ain’t easy, yet B.B. would be first to offer a word of appreciation to go ahead with it.

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

Grace Bowers has quit YouTube, citing her discomfort at the demographic of her audience on the video sharing platform.

Bowers shot to six-string stardom a few years back, and in 2024 was voted by Guitar World readers as one of the standout guitarists of the year. In that year alone, she debuted on Jimmy Kimmel, released a record, covered SRV’s Lenny and Scuttle Buttin, and dropped a cover of Led Zeppelin’s Going to California.

More recently, she’s been rubbing shoulders with the biggest names in the music industry, playing at the Grammy’s with Chris Martin, receiving plaudits from Nancy Wilson, and meeting her biggest guitar hero, Slash.

Over the years, her presence has grown on social media, too. At the time of writing, her Instagram account has 428k followers, and her YouTube channel has 60k subscribers.

However, in a post published on her YouTube feed, Bowers voiced her discomfort at the growth of her YouTube channel, and spoke out against the “old ass creeps” who are making her feel uncomfortable.

“Bye YouTube,” she writes. “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.

“Too many old ass creeps. To the people who were kind, sorry others ruined it, I appreciate u. I’m making music for my own generation now, quit comparing me to dead people of the past.”

Bowers’ artist YouTube account has since been wiped of all playing videos and now only audio tracks from her albums remain live on her channel.

Bowers has spoken out and attempted to distance herself from the blues on numerous occasions, repeatedly playing down the blues rock camp into which she felt she was pigeonholed when she first burst onto the scene.

Speaking earlier this year, she said, “Nothing pisses me off more than someone throwing a label on me. I’m 19! The music I play now versus the music I played when I was 16 or 17 is vastly different.

“People get upset about that. I’m like, think about when you were 16… You were probably a different person. That’s what kind of sucks about being on social media all the time; I’ve grown up in front of so many people.”

Instead, Bowers has voiced her intent to move towards more contemporary alternative music movements.

“I feel like there’s such a movement right now with hardcore and punk," she says. "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.”

Bowers has already shown her pedigree beyond the blues. Last year unleashed her inner shredder with a searing tribute to Ozzy Osbourne and Randy Rhoads.

“This is Keith” is a pretty mundane phrase, but when you answer your phone and you hear those three simple words growled at you by the most distinguished rhythm guitarist of all time, they make a lasting impression.

The 30-minute interview that follows is no less impactful. Even at 82 years old, Keith Richards is in devilish form, prone to laughing hysterically at his own jokes, dropping clusters of F-bombs, mocking some of GW’s more naive questions and generally behaving like the snaggle-toothed Captain Jack Sparrow caricature that all Rolling Stones fans recognize and appreciate.

Talking to him, you don’t feel like you’re in the company of some godlike rock star; you feel like you’re backstage at a Stones show, laughing it up over life’s more surreal and stupid moments.

Still, Richards, who was infamously labeled “mad, bad and dangerous to know” more than half a century ago – and with good reason (you already know the coke, heroin and switchblade anecdotes) – is a mellower character these days than the terrifying Glimmer Twin persona of decades past.

He’s a well-spoken fellow; you can still hear traces of the suburban London accent that he shares with his fellow Stone Mick Jagger as he talks enthusiastically and at length about all things guitar.

He’s a committed lover of his instrument – almost literally, by the sound of it – and is especially keen to discuss his latest signature model, the Gibson Keith Richards 1960 ES-355 Collector's Edition.

Built by hand at Gibson’s custom shop in Nashville and available in a limited run of 150 units, 50 of which are signed on the F-hole label and headstock and 100 on the label only, this guitar comes in at a marriage-destroying $29,999 and $19,999 respectively, in other words too expensive for you and me; well, maybe you but definitely me.

The point of the new ES-355 model is that Richards’ original, which has been 3D-scanned by Gibson to make the new version a millimetrically identical copy, occupies a rare spot in guitar history; he used it (among other guitars) to record the Stones’ seminal Sticky Fingers and Exile On Main St. albums in 1971 and ’72, and has played it on every Stones tour since 1997. If you ever get your hands on one, count yourself lucky.

The same adjective applies to Richards himself. He’s still in pretty good shape despite an early-career adherence to the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle that few could possibly survive; he’s an acknowledged legend in his own lifetime; and he still wants to be better at what he does.

I was expecting him to be pretty jaded at the prospect of yet another guitar-related interview, but the opposite turned out to be true. You’ll enjoy the chat that follows, even if your relationship with your instrument isn’t quite as intimate as his.

Hello, Keith. Are you at home in Connecticut?

I am, yes. We’re absolutely snowed in. Nobody can get here except a man with a snowplow. He’s working away right now. I quite like it, because it means I can’t get out.

This new Gibson ES-355 of yours is pretty tasty, isn’t it?

Yeah, yeah! What a surprise, and what a fuckin’ honor. I tell you, when they came at me with this one, I was like, “How can I refuse?” It was a shock to me at first, because when I started, the idea of even owning a Gibson was pretty much out of the picture.

There are only 150 of them. How many of them are Gibson giving you?

Oh look, I have enough guitars already.

Is it true you have 3,000 guitars in your personal collection?

It’s something like that. You can call my guitar man, Pierre de Beauport, if you want the exact number, but it’s around there. But it’s not like I go around buying them or anything; a lot of these guitars have been given to me. I’ve never seen them all.

I actually only use about… well, the working number is about 15 guitars in the rack, for different sounds and whatever. But the other 2,900, I don’t know. They’re taken care of, though. I mean, this is a prime collection.

You’re known for putting groove into your playing and hanging back behind the beat.

It’s actually nothing you can put into words, because it’s just the way I feel the rhythm. I always say that I can only do this because I’ve been blessed with the best drummers in the world. I have the luxury of knowing that the guy knows what he’s doing, you know.

Were you the first guitar player to bring that swing to rock music?

Well, if you think about it, it’s the other way around. Rock music came out of swing music. You listen to any of the old ’30s and ’40s big bands, they’re playing as much rock ’n’ roll as Bill Haley or Little Richard. The essence of a lot of it was in those big bands and their rhythm sections.

You played with Chuck Berry in the ’80s. What was he like?

Chuck, as a person, was an ornery old fucker – a lovable, ornery old fucker.

Why do you admire his guitar playing?

The same thing you’re talking about; there was something about the way he used that rhythm behind the drums that, to me, was fascinating. He said to me, “I was just playing with the right guys, [bassist] Willie Dixon and [pianist] Johnnie Johnson.” And that’s the way I feel about the way I play – lucky to play with the right guys.

We’re talking about a mysterious thing, a thing called feel, a thing called groove. Luckily you can’t put your finger on it, you know. But I try! [Laughs]

Is the way you weave lead and rhythm parts playing with Ronnie Wood an unspoken thing?

Oh, absolutely. There’s something between us. It was the same with me and with Mick Taylor, and also with Brian Jones, back at the beginning. You’d meet the right guys and automatically they knew that “You take over here, I’ll come in underneath,” and there was a beautiful little ballet going on. That’s amazing, and that’s what makes it worth doing, you know – this interconnection between musicians.

When it works, it seems almost telepathic.

Yeah, it is kinda telepathic, in a way. I suppose. You can put that word on it. [Shouts] Ronnie! [Laughs] And it’s something you don’t wanna fuck with. Once it’s there, you don’t talk about it amongst yourselves. It’s an unspoken reliance upon each other, which is a beautiful thing.

You mentioned Brian Jones, who we rarely discuss as a guitarist. What was his playing like?

Personally, he was the first steel slide player I heard. His middle name could have been Elmore, because he used to just play Elmore James stuff. He was really, really in front of that game, and that’s what I really admired about him when we first started playing together.

This band was started by a piano player, Ian Stewart, and he had Brian with him. Once I heard Brian playing Elmore James, I thought, “I’ve found a guy here who I can mess with,” and then we got into Jimmy Reed stuff and, of course, Muddy Waters, all of that… I wouldn’t call it a university education. [Laughs]

Have you ever played with a guitarist who couldn’t groove?

I very rarely play with stiffs! I’ve been lucky to play with the best. Listen, I’ve played with the guys I grew up listening to. Little Richard, Scotty Moore. Jesus Christ, should I go on? [Laughs]

Did you know John Mayall?

I had great admiration for John. He was such a scholarly guy about it. John was sort of a shadowy figure. A lot of those guys came out of the folk music scene, as it was known at the time, because for some weird reason in those early years, there were hierarchies between traditional jazz and folk music.

You know, people got fussy about shit. Anyway, it was amazing to me that these guys were dying to play music that comes from thousands of miles away and that it resonated with them. Therefore the resonation continues; music is about resonation.

Did you like the British folk guitarists?

Yeah, I did listen to them, and they were good pickers, you know. Wizz Jones used to come round to my house and hang out for a few free cigarettes and show you a lick or two. Do you remember Wizz Jones? He was an incredible guy. I really actually admired those guys. Bert Jansch was fuckin’ amazing. And unrecognized, really, for how great they were.

When you got into open-G tuning on five strings, it seemed to change your whole view of guitar playing.

It did, actually, and anybody that tries to get into it, it changes their fucking mind, too. [Laughs] Because it is a really strange setup, especially if you’re used to six-string guitars.

You have to reconfigure everything, and you realize you’ve restricted yourself to five strings and three open notes [GDGBD], you know. You have to learn to play the chords. I figured it out. It’s still fascinating. I’m still rambling around in there, looking for stuff.

Is the objective of the partial chords you often play to strip the music down?

Yeah, basically, because with five strings in open G, your bottom string is a G, so you’re immediately stripping away a whole load of possibilities of being Jimi Hendrix. [Laughs]

Also, if you get into it, you find a million other things people haven’t explored before, or at least, very few of us have. For me, it started off as an interesting sort of experiment and then I suddenly found that, hey, this is the stuff.

You mentioned Hendrix. Did you ever want to be a virtuoso soloist yourself?

No, I have never really wanted to go down that path. I mean, with solos, I admire the virtuoso and the technique and the nimbleness, but at the end of the day, what are you soloing over? You’re the icing on the cake. And I’m the cake!

So what did you think of the Sunset Strip shredders that got big in the ’80s?

[Laughs] I laughed my fuckin’ head off! Like, “Oh my God, what have we spawned?”

They were skilled players, though.

Yeah, they were good pickers, and they had a hit record here and there, but that’s pop music. Look, as long as you’ve got something to solo over, then go. But that never appealed to me. What appeals to me is what’s going on underneath. What I really do love is two or three guitars playing together, because that’s what fascinates me. Just one guy soloing means nothing much to me. Right?

Do you play fewer notes these days?

Yes, I do, because I’m not as fast as I used to be. [Laughs] I tell you what, at my age, what I find most interesting about the guitar is you can compensate for certain disabilities and nimbleness and find other ways of getting around the problem, and it still teaches you another thing – you never stop learning with the damn thing. I love it and it’s my friend forever. If I had to, I’d fuck it.

Noted. Are your hands holding up OK at age 82?

Well, I do have arthritis and very large knuckles. They don’t hurt, but it does get in the way sometimes. I’m going for a wider fingerboard for that reason.

Do you warm your hands up before a show?

I sit on ’em. No, I do have one of those hand pumps, you know. I’m really lax, quite honestly. I just look at my hands and my hands look at me, and we say, “Well, let’s see what we can do today.” And that’s the way I play guitar. I look at it and I say, “We’ve got nothing else to do. Come here. I love you!” [Laughs]

What’s your favorite song ever?

What, just one? Oh man, you’re sticking me against the wall. You’re killing me here.

It’s what we do.

Yeah! I gotta go with Robert Johnson’s Come On in My Kitchen. It’s all there – originality, everything. It’s fantastic.

And if you could only play one guitar for the rest of your life, which would it be?

Whoa… you’re a firing squad, ain’t ya? I have a little black Gibson looking at me right now, a 1936 acoustic, broken, battered. I’d keep that one with me.

You’ve often said acoustic playing is at the heart of what you do.

Well, you can’t become an electric guitar player without knowing where the damn thing comes from. If you don’t get the basics, where do you think you’re going to end up? [Laughs]

Are you still learning as a guitar player?

Who isn’t? That’s the beauty of the thing. My teacher never stops teaching. I’ve been at it for years now and he still knows more than me.

Have you got any advice for our younger readers about guitar playing?

I cannot give you any advice, kids. If you love the thing and feel like playing it, just dig in and find out yourself. It’s a great pal, and when there’s nothing else around, there’s always a guitar. It becomes a friend, a real deep friend, and also a challenge. It looks at you across the room and leers at you. [Laughs] “Come on, you ain’t got nothing out of me yet.”

It’s been 11 years since your last solo album. Will you do another one?

I’m thinking about it. I never plan these things. [Rolling Stones drummer] Steve Jordan and I were having a chat about it the other day, and usually you start by just saying, “Let’s go in and cut a track or two.” Sometimes that’s what happens, and other times you say, “Hey, here’s another one, and here’s another one.” So I’m not counting it out.

Are you still inspired to write songs?

Oh, God, long may they come. They come out of nowhere. They come out of babies’ mouths, they come out of a car crash; you never know. Everything’s a song.

They say the best songs come when you’re feeling anger and frustration. Is that true in your experience?

Anger and frustration help for a while, but you’ll never make a living at it.

What makes you happy these days?

Well, breathing. [Laughs] No, this winter my grandkids have been around. They’re all ones and twos and threes; it’s fascinating to watch. I’m starting to get the hang of it, you know. Over this winter, they’ve been my inspiration.

What are your goals at this point?

To make it to the next winter!

• For more information on the Keith Richards 1960 ES-355, head to Gibson.com.
• This article first appeared in Guitar World. Subscribe and save.

Renowned bluesman, guitar expert and all-round gear guru Joe Bonamassa has taken Guitar World down a deep-dive into the differences between P-90s and humbuckers – discussing what makes the former sing and how best to set them up.

P-90s were big players for the best part of a decade before humbuckers came along and became the most common choice, especially in Gibsons. But what’s the difference between the two?

On the sliding scale of pickup tones, P-90s are said to be dead center. Generally speaking, while single-coils have snap and bite, humbuckers offer more warmth and size. P-90s sit right between them.

But how does that translate in application? Well, in a new Guitar World video, Bonamassa delivers the answer.

He’s armed himself with two Gibson Les Pauls that are as close in makeup as possible, save for their pickups. There’s a ‘58 Goldtop Standard with PAF-style humbuckers, and a ‘56 with P-90s.

“The difference with P-90s is they're a little bit more sparkly when you roll the volume down,” he explains. “They’re more like single-coils, but they’re pretty woolly when you roll the volume up.” It covers all bases.

Speaking with Gibson last year, Joe Bonamassa claimed that “most people who are real dyed-in-the-wool Gibson people will say behind closed doors when the internet isn’t watching that their favorite pickup is a P-90.”

“They're cleaner,” he believes. “There's a sparkle on top that a humbucking pickup doesn't get.”

And that’s why his Copper Iridescent Epiphone model is, like Warren Haynes' new signature, loaded with them over usual humbuckers.

But the pickup height makes a big difference, too. There are two schools of thought when it comes to pickup heights: keep them close to the strings for maximum output, or move them further away and push the amp.

Bonamassa falls in the former category when it comes to humbuckers, but P-90s require a change of tact.

“[With P-90s], I try to get the front pickup as low as I possibly can, and the back pickup as high as possible,” he states. “It creates more of a balance. Sometimes you've gotta use popsicle sticks and put it on some low-budget, de facto scaffolding to get it to work.”

P-90s are having a bit of a moment. Haynes had them fitted into his recent signature Gibson after discovering the benefits they offer. Former Ozzy Osbourne shredder, Jake E. Lee, has also been talking about the lesser-loved pickups.

“Humbuckers are great, but, to me, the P-90s were always the best of both worlds,” he tells Guitar World. “They have that articulation, attack, and aggressiveness that single coils have, but they’re also kind of smooth and beefy-sounding, like humbuckers.

The only reason he didn't play them during his Ozzy days was “because they didn’t make humbucking P-90s, so you’d have to deal with all that noise that comes with them, and at the volume I played at, it just was untenable.”

Haynes has also explained why he’s defected from ‘buckers, as P-90s find themselves in vogue once more.

You suspect BB would smile to see it, maybe break out that warm butterscotch laugh – then give a disbelieving shake of the head at all the fuss. As Joe Bonamassa gathers the great man’s acolytes for the all-star BB King’s Blues Summit 100, it calls to mind the Charles Darwin quote that the company a man keeps is the best measure of his worth.

By that metric alone, King is a giant. And yet, to thumb through the guitarist’s back pages is to be reminded of a towering figure in his own right: not just a player who changed the possibilities of his instrument, but an instrument of social change himself.

Immortality wasn’t on the cards when Riley B King took his first breaths on 16 September 1925.

Born some 20 miles from Indianola, Mississippi, the boy’s lowly status was deepened by his parents’ separation, and when his mother sought work on a farm in the hills of Kilmichael, seven-year-old Riley grew up fast, working corn and cotton fields, snatching at strands of education and the transcendence of the Elkhorn Baptist Church.

Riley’s introduction to the guitar, too, had something of the spiritual about it. Some 80 years later, King could still picture the day a local reverend came calling and left his guitar unattended. Caught red-handed by the preacher man, King recalled his expectation of a scolding and his surprise at being encouraged to fret his first notes instead.

As for repertoire, the field hollers were a starting point, as were the sounds of Blind Lemon Jefferson and Lonnie Johnson crackling from Riley’s Aunt Mima’s wind-up gramophone. No coincidence that his later style would sit squarely between them, with a third flavour from Bukka White – a cousin of his mother and a future star – who impressed the boy with his mesmerising slide touch.

Riley soon found himself seeking solace in music for intensely personal reasons, having lost his mother and grandmother in quick succession (while still scarred from the death of his two-year-old brother, reportedly from eating glass).

It fell to the orphaned 12 year old to survive alone in a cabin in the woods: a period when he withdrew from the world to silently process his grief. Mercifully, the farm owner had advanced the boy his wages, enabling Riley to buy his first guitar, a red Stella acoustic.

That instrument would be cruelly stolen, but when King joined another aunt and uncle in the Mississippi Delta, he saved for another six-string, put to good use upon joining The Famous St John’s Gospel Singers.

Soon, having secured a better-paid job as a tractor driver, Riley had the means to travel to Indianola on the weekends, soaking in the music that coursed through the city, while adding his own thumbprint as a busker.

From Farm To Stage

As an agricultural worker, Riley was ruled out of military service and by 1945 had become jaded by his life as a sharecropper. Yet it took a happy accident to get him moving. Returning from the field one day, he watched in horror as his tractor surged forward and snapped its exhaust against the barn’s doorframe. Panicking, Riley split for Memphis, the city whose fabled music boulevard, Beale Street, had appeared to him in dreams.

Hooking up with his cousin, Bukka White, 23-year-old Riley found work by day and filled his evenings with music. Already mesmerised by the electric sounds of Charlie Christian, now he picked up on Django Reinhardt and T-Bone Walker, while seeking an audience with the great harp-blower Sonny Boy Williamson II, whose radio spot made him a local kingmaker.

Riley got in front of Williamson, who recommended him for a regular gig at the 16th Street Grill in West Memphis. The weekly pay was $72 (which was a leap from the $22 he’d made on the tractor), but it came with a condition – Riley had to gain radio exposure and plug the eatery on air. The logical first stop was WDIA – programmed for African-Americans – and King couldn’t believe his luck to be offered a daily 15-minute spot.

It was around this time that Riley became BB, albeit by degrees. Each of the DJs had nicknames, and the new kid evolved from ‘Beale St Blues Boy’ to ‘Blues Boy’, then ‘Bee Bee’, and finally ‘BB’.

Just as vital to his identity, meanwhile, was the first guitar billed as ‘Lucille’ (a Gibson L-30 archtop, by all accounts) after a fracas at an Arkansas nightclub.

“Two guys started to fight and one knocked the other onto this big garbage can full of kerosene,” King once told Guitarist. “When I got outside, I found out these two guys was fighting about a lady in the nightclub. [Her] name was Lucille. But then I realised I’d left my guitar inside. So I went back in for it – and I named it ‘Lucille’ to remind me not to do a thing like that again. And I haven’t!”

About Time

Through his WDIA connections, King began his recording career in 1950, cutting a few sides with little success. The breakthrough came with 1951’s 3 O’Clock Blues, supposedly tracked at Memphis’s Black YMCA using portable recording equipment and blankets on the windows to deaden traffic noise.

It gave the 26 year old his first No 1 on the Billboard R&B chart in February 1952 – 10 further singles would hit the Top 20 by 1955 – and unlocked a higher orbit of venues that King travelled between in a tourbus he proudly nicknamed ‘Big Red’.

But as the decade unfolded, rock ’n’ roll began stealing his audience, and a disaster in 1958 almost put him back to square one, as Big Red was involved in a serious collision with a butane truck near Dallas. While the musicians survived, two truckers died in the fireball, and it transpired that King’s insurance was invalid, leaving the bandleader personally liable.

Deep in debt and robbed of the funds he’d earmarked for taxes, IRS agents began showing up at gigs to demand money – BB claimed he was then paying himself just $75 a week.

Nothing to do but work his way out of the hole. As the 60s got underway, King was relentless as a road warrior and businessman, switching to ABC Records in 1962 in the hope this bigger label could take him to the next level.

From King’s standpoint, there was nothing particularly special about the show of 21 November ’64 at the Regal Theatre in Chicago.

Uniquely, however, that concert was recorded and his 1965 release, Live At The Regal, would go on to rank among the best live albums of all time – a masterclass in one-note shiver and showmanship.

More significant for BB personally, however, was the February 1967 show at San Francisco’s Fillmore Auditorium, promoted by Bill Graham. The suburban audience gave the guitarist a standing ovation before he’d played a note, reducing King to tears; white hippy kids appreciating the rhythm and blues of a black man was entirely new territory.

King’s exposure to this new demographic came courtesy of a fresh generation of electric blues stylists. Eric Clapton had re-energised the genre in John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers; likewise Michael Bloomfield with the Paul Butterfield Blues Band.

That both of these hip young players, among others, tipped their hats did no harm for BB’s profile. Coupled with a new manager in Sidney Seidenberg – “the smartest career move I ever made” – the fruitless work and financial hardship of the late 50s and 60s were finally receding.

What A Thrill

The big pay-off came in 1970. A year earlier, King had hit the studio with producer Bill Szymczyk to record Completely Well. One track – The Thrill Is Gone, written in 1951 by Rick Darnell and Roy Hawkins – was a curveball, far from the standard I-IV-V structure. Szymczyk even added strings, marking a sonic departure for BB and giving the song true mainstream appeal.

The Thrill Is Gone duly achieved King’s highest-ever chart placing and won that year’s Grammy for Best Male R&B Vocal Performance, with the bluesman’s crossover confirmed by his appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show, reaching an estimated audience of 20 million.

With so many seminal bluesmen dying unknown in penury, it’s heartening that the second half of King’s life – from his mid-40s to his death at 89 – was an extended lap of honour. In 1971, for the first time, he toured overseas and was amazed to find pockets of fandom as far-flung as London, Japan, Australia and Africa.

The 80s were heralded by King’s induction into the nascent Blues Foundation Blues Hall Of Fame, while Gibson honoured him with his own Lucille signature model (an ornate ES-355 without f-holes and the addition of a fine-tuning bridge).

In 1987, King accepted a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award and was inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, while a year later he met a new generation thanks to When Love Comes To Town – the duet sung with Bono on U2’s Rattle And Hum. When the Irishman suggested they might bash through the song on acoustic guitars before recording, King politely demurred: “Gentlemen, I don’t do chords…”

The 90s, too, began in auspicious fashion, with the guitarist awarded a National Medal Of The Arts by President George HW Bush, before opening the first BB King Blues Club on his beloved Beale Street.

Having visited the White House a second time in 1995 to be honoured by President Bill Clinton as a Kennedy Center Honoree, two years later BB would even meet Pope John Paul II at the Vatican – and gift him a Lucille.

In truth, King’s late career was more about his shows and ceremonial role than breaking ground in the studio. Yet there were bright spots: 2000’s double-header with Eric Clapton, Riding With The King, earned double-platinum sales and a Grammy for Best Traditional Blues album (King’s second win in the category, following 1998’s Blues On The Bayou, among a lifetime haul of 15).

Few of the founding post-war bluesmen crossed over into the new millennium, but for a time, BB defied his advancing years. In 2004, he was presented with the prestigious Polar Music Prize – not to mention a cool one million crowns – by the King of Sweden.

Closer to home, the following year saw officials break ground in Indianola for the BB King Museum and Delta Interpretive Center. Even 2006’s purported UK ‘farewell’ tour – with support from Gary Moore – proved nothing of the sort, with 2011’s Glastonbury Festival transported by his Pyramid Stage set.

“At times, his playing is staccato and stripped-back, punctuating songs with curlicues of melody,” wrote The Guardian. “At others it’s mellifluous and masterful, showcasing shimmering vibrato.”

But King was by then deep into his 80s, and so came a succession of ‘last times’. Four days after Glastonbury, King would play the Albert Hall and meet Guitarist for our final interview.

In 2012, he paid a last visit to the White House, performing Sweet Home Chicago with President Barack Obama on guest vocals. On 3 October 2014, he stepped offstage at Chicago’s House Of Blues to be diagnosed with dehydration and exhaustion, the eight remaining shows struck off.

King would never perform again, and died at the age of 89 in Las Vegas on 14 May 2015. The news was inevitable yet unthinkable, the sudden shattering of a tenet in all our lives as music lovers.

Writing in The Guardian, perhaps Bonamassa put it best: “The sun will rise and fall and BB King will play the blues. To say his loss is devastating to the blues community is an understatement. He defined the blues. He was the blues…”

• Joe Bonamassa on his friendship with the ultimate bluesman, B.B. King – and paying the ultimate tribute
• This article first appeared in Guitarist. Subscribe and save.
  

In the mid-’80s, ZZ Top went from being a group of Texas-bred blues bangers to a chart-topping powerhouse on the strength of albums like 1983’s Eliminator and 1985’s Afterburner. But neither of those now-classic albums could’ve happened without the “bridge album” that preceded them, 1981’s El Loco.

“The band, in the midst of the ongoing roadshows, returned to take advantage of some rare, non-performing days with re-entry into the studio in the early ’80s,” says ZZ Top guitarist Billy Gibbons (via email) when looking back on this tweener period. He adds that the band’s aim was simple: “To make loud noise in Las Vegas, Memphis, Houston and back home in Los Angeles.”

Songs like Pearl Necklace, Tube Snake Bookie and Groovy Little Hippie Pad did a fine job of reflecting ZZ Top’s past. More importantly, they showed signs of what they’d eventually do so well on later hits like Sharp Dressed Man, Legs and Gimme All Your Lovin’.

“We were writing new material and recording the sounds the band is known for,” Gibbons says. “Following a wrap with sessions, it was us trippin’ into the desert surrounds back out in West Texas to capture the band in the shifting sands near their haunts at the Tex-Mex border. Tortillas and hot sauce meet rock ’n’ roll, as always.”

If that sounds roundabout – yet oddly encapsulating – that’s because it is. Gibbons has a particular way of viewing the world, which he filters through a quasi-poetic sense of humor that runs on through his guitar and out from his amps. So, if you really want to understand the vibe and feel of El Loco – or of any ZZ Top album – it’s best to just sit back, listen and take it in.

“All it requires is having a glance at the desert setting, which takes one directly into ZZ Top’s Texas heritage,” Gibbons says. “It’s that Lone Star State of mind making its ‘separate country’ status so mysterious. The poetry from song to song says it all quite succinctly.”

How did the reception for the album that preceded El Loco, 1979’s Degüello, impact your outlook on ZZ Top as the band rolled into the Eighties?

The great American art form of the blues, which we continued attempting to interpret, flavored the album’s content.

One of the favored tracks, the fine composition with Sam & Dave’s Stax recording of I Thank You, allowed the initial leanings toward taking a move with sounds of R&B.

Those new angles tempered new waves of experimentation for the band to move ahead and toward the future.

El Loco is interesting as it precedes Eliminator and Afterburner, ZZ Top’s ’80s explosion albums, but it came after the ’70s blues period, which you mentioned. It’s kind of an in-between record.

This is true! Then again, there was a landslide of inspiration and creative energies surrounding some insane scenes erupting everywhere. As the ZZ Top cornerstone of standing within our 12-bar circle expanded, the inventive impact from far and wide was instrumental in igniting a vibrancy from then to now.

What were the first songs the band wrote for El Loco, and did you have the new sounds of the ’80s in mind?

The many tracks included from the period, like So Cold, Instantly and Mark My Word, were just a few good ones as extra tracks that still exist following the more familiar numbers that landed in 12-inch vinyl upon the release.

The interesting challenge loomed large, having to hand-pick a scant few titles from the assembly that stacked up during the sessions.

You started El Loco at Sunset Sound in L.A. but moved to Ardent Studios in Memphis. How did that impact you in terms of tracking guitars?

Sunset Sound opened the doors to twist knobs on a lot of unusual features with their unreal stacks of compressors limiters and mic preamps surrounding the console… all favoring great response going to tape.

As the tour moved along, we returned to our home away from home, back in midtown Memphis, where Ardent Studios held Studio B on reserve for lighting the fuse for new ZZ Top songs to complete the wrap.

Why did you choose Bill Ham as producer?

The title of “producer” was actually more in line as keeper of the flame. Here were three wayward and unruly guys [Gibbons, Dusty Hill and Frank Beard] that most likely would have stayed in the badlands. We were unaware of the job of maintaining the value of the group and rallying the gang to focus on defining what we were doing and refining the content.

We simply kept it raucous and raw and pressed on with loudness. An unabashed element was the constant ferociousness of the guitar tone coming from our trusted Pearly Gates [Gibbons’ 1959 Gibson Les Paul]. The sound out of that instrument actually made the signal stand up and bark.

Linden Hudson was also involved as a pre-producer.

Yes – a great guy with great insight with what makes for great sounds. That appreciative alliance emerged stridently with solid input on a creative level.

Linden was the engineer for Groovy Little Hippy Pad but wasn’t credited. How did he impact that track?

There was a constant openness to taking on fresh ideas with smiling support. Good times made it into the groove – an undeniable reality, front and center, with positive suggestions and exacting expertise.

Besides Pearly Gates, what guitars did you bring into the studio, and how did you shape your tone?

The style for making the kind of sound we were chasing fell right off the stage when the Jeff Beck Group delivered those smoking nights of great grind and grit. Standing behind a ’50s sunburst Les Paul, supported by a Fender Telecaster bass, said it all. Pushing it through those early Marshall 100s did the trick.

From that point forward, Jeff [Beck] arranged delivery with Marshall’s first factory arrival into the States, loading ZZ Top’s stage with stacks standing high. It solidified the initial offerings from the band’s newly formed “ZZ” sound without question.

What are the stories behind Pearl Necklace and Tube Snake Boogie?

During a hang with a long-standing pal, one of our friends appeared exiting his ride, making a fast clip to his front door, whereupon the question of “How was last night?” provided a quick and to-the-point response of a single word: Necklace.

One only needs a slight imagination to put it into proper perspective. Tube Snake Boogie emerged as a song having overheard a reference at a notorious surf spot from a shaper calling some new boards making the scene as “tube snakes.” A perfect title.

Terry Manning mixed El Loco. How important was he to ZZ Top’s sound?

Terry Manning – yes! We met Terry when he was working in a studio at Ardent in Memphis with Led Zeppelin. He accepted the invitation to take a stab at mixing the tracks later to reach success with the release entitled Tres Hombres.

On that record, the best move was the accidental slip of the splicing knife mashing together two numbers – Waiting’ On the Bus and Jesus Just Left Chicago – suddenly becoming the classic coupling, forever playing as a streamlined duo with a recognizable and most desirable effect.

What were your thoughts on El Loco the first time you heard it?

I thought Groovy Little Hippie Pad and Party on the Patio fit the times in a remarkable and cohesive manner. They’re still performed in concert with a speedy tempo, keeping the pulse beating with smoothness. Even now it maintains that stepped-up, accelerated sound.

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

B.B. King reflected on his life in guitar many times across the decades. Here, he paints a nuanced, surprisingly humble portrait of himself in quotes selected from milestone interviews with Guitarist magazine.

Walking the talk (Guitarist, December 2011) 

I’ve never been a real hot player, and a lot of kids are hot players. I’m slow because I walk slow, talk slow, sing slow – the whole works. It isn’t because I feel that way, that’s just the way I am.

Divine inspiration (Guitarist, December 2011) 

My mother’s brother was married to a sanctified preacher’s sister. And when I heard him play the guitar, that was the nicest thing ever. That’s about the first time I started paying attention.

Hallmark vibrato (Guitarist, December 2011) 

When the Hawaiian people would play, it was so mellow, so good to your ears. Every time I’d get a guitar, I’d always trill my hand and it became a habit. Guys would say, ‘How’d you do that?’ I’d say, ‘Like this!’

In the footsteps of T-Bone Walker (Guitarist, August 2009) 

The greatest thing for me was to hear T-Bone Walker, and the first time I ever heard him, he was playing Stormy Monday. He was a driving force in my learning to play and I would’ve married him!

He was playing one of those big-bodied Gibsons [an ES-5], and you could hear it cutting right above the band, so that was always my idea, too; putting the microphone on the amp just gave me the little boost I needed.

The trouble was every time I had a guitar in my hands, the notes that T-Bone and the others used just didn’t seem to be on the neck.

The hard life of a touring guitar (Guitarist, August 2009) 

I was just a sucker for any guitar I could get and manage to hold on to! I was from the country and we didn’t have money like people did in the towns; you could save and save but still rarely get enough money to buy a nice guitar.

I bought my first electric guitar when I moved to Memphis, a Gibson with a DeArmond pickup, which I used with a small Gibson amplifier. But sometimes they’d get busted up, people would steal ’em and one time I even had a car wreck when an 18-wheeler ran into the back of me. At least that time I had a chance to get a new guitar on insurance.

Finding amps that sing (Guitarist, August 2009)

I like to use tube amps and I’ve always been crazy about Fender Twins; as long as they’re in reasonable shape, they’ll give me what I want. I like to have the volume and treble up all the way and bass at about number 6, with just a small hint of reverb.

If I have the amp set up like that, I find I can change the sound to suit the hall if I need to, just by adjusting the controls on my guitar. I’ve always used those old Gibson Lab Series amps, too – you don’t see them around too much these days, so every time I see one for sale I just buy it!

Doing the work (Guitarist, August 2009) 

If I’m lucky maybe I’ll sit down with my guitar for half an hour a day [when out in the tourbus] – that’s all. But it always felt as though I’ve had to work harder at it than other people.

I’ve never really been able to play chords and that’s why I’ve always had my band play the rhythm while I play the lead – I started out that way and I guess I just got lazy. I wouldn’t want to sound just like T-Bone Walker or Barney Kessel, but it would be nice to feel sometimes that at least I was their equal.

No quitting (Guitarist, December 2011) 

It [the passage of time] made me know that I couldn’t play very well. I hear some people playing so good – I hear them and say to myself, ‘Oh God, I might as well quit.’ Then the other half of my mind says, ‘Well, how you gonna eat?’ [laughs]. So that’s one of the reasons I haven’t quit.

Feeling the way (Guitarist, August 2009) 

I wanted to play like Lonnie Johnson, Blind Lemon Jefferson – even Jimmy Rogers did things I liked. I loved Django Reinhardt as well, but when T-Bone Walker came up with that single-string playing on the electric guitar, that did it – I just went crazy.

I never really wanted to play just like them; I was a rebel and just wanted to play what I felt. I’ve been criticised for it and even read recently that I played ‘watered-down blues’. Well, if they think that, they can write it – I really don’t mind. I just do what I do!”

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

Sum 41’s Deryck Whibley has started a new YouTube series to show off his electric guitar collection – and the first episode features a holy grail Les Paul that was once owned by Joe Bonamassa.

Whibley is something of a guitar aficionado. Over the past few years, he played Steve Jones’ Sex Pistols Les Paul, recovered the long-lost Gibson that was stolen in 2003, and was reunited with his beloved Iggy Pop Telecaster after it spent 20 years behind glass.

Now, Whibley has revealed he recently purchased one of the most storied Gibson Les Pauls in Bonamassa’s collection.

The Les Paul in question is Lazarus – the 1959 Les Paul Standard ’Burst that was brought back from the dead after a previous owner had treated it to a rather questionable mod job.

Whibley says he bought the guitar a few months ago, after he was given the opportunity to try out a few potential acquisitions from a dealer. Before that, it had been one of Bonamassa’s prized possessions.

Back in 2021, it was recreated as an Epiphone signature guitar. At the time, JoBo explained how he first crossed paths with it, and how it originally landed on his lap with a Cherry Red finish in 2019 after a “guitar geek” hang.

Despite the weird finish, there were telltale signs it was something special – including the frets and hardware – and after the finish was removed, Bonamassa realised he had stumbled upon a holy grail Gibson. It became one of his main guitars, and was played almost every night with him on stage.

Why Bonamassa decided to part ways with such a beloved Les Paul is unclear – he did imply he’d be winding down his collection, so maybe this is a symptom of that – but Whibley is now its rightful owner.

“I don’t even know where to begin with this guitar,” Whibley says. “This particular ’Burst has a name and a history all unto itself.

“After the last Sum 41 show in January 2025 I decided I was going to take a break from music and I was not going to buy any more guitars. A good friend of mine from Black Magic Guitars called me up and said, ‘Hey, I’ve got a couple of guitars you might be interested in checking out.’

“One of them happened to be this guitar. Lazarus sticks out – it just felt great in my hands, it sounded great. A week later, I just couldn’t stop thinking about Lazarus. It was showing up in my dreams.

“It’s relatively new to me. I’ve only had it a few months, but no matter what I play with it, it just sounds incredible.”

Given the surprise sale of Lazarus, it will be interesting to see whether any other notable guitars from Bonamassa's collection find their way to new owners in the near future.

In an interview with Guitar World in 2024, Whibley discussed the making of Sum 41's final album and explained why he was ending the band.

When I was about 12, my friend’s dad was hipping me to all kinds of incredible music.

He gave me the 1974 Gram Parsons album Grievous Angel, which includes Ooh Las Vegas, a song that features some really cool pedal steel guitar licks that can be replicated with a Parsons/White B-Bender-equipped Fender Telecaster, which I talked about last time. In this column, I’d like to share what I learned from all this.

The track kicks off with a lick played in the key of E, along the lines of Figure 1. Here, I begin with a slide up to B on my G string’s 4th fret, followed by a C#-to-D hammer-on the B string then the open high E string.

I hybrid-pick this lick, flatpicking the G string and fingerpicking the notes on the top two strings, and allow the notes to ring together as much as possible.

There’s another part of the song, also performed with hybrid picking, along the lines of Figure 2. Here, the open low E string repeatedly alternates against E-to-D pull-offs on the D string, followed by a double pull-off at the end of bar 2, C#-B-A.

What I didn’t know at the time was that that particular lick was not played on a conventional guitar, but rather on a pedal steel, by Al Perkins. I had assumed it was played by James Burton on his Telecaster.

The tone of the pedal steel on this track is so clear, clean and bright and sounded to me like a Tele! Figure 3 is played in the style of this solo, kicking off in bar 1 with a quick ascending lick based on the E major pentatonic scale (E, F#, G#, B, C#) and followed in bars 2-4 with a phrase based on oblique bends.

An oblique bend is performed by combining bent and unbent strings. Here, the G string is bent up a whole step while notes on the top two strings remain stationary. Essential to playing this lick is the use of hybrid picking, as the notes on the top two strings repeatedly alternate with the bent G string.

What makes the lick challenging to execute is the note on the high E string is at the 10th fret, while the note on the B string is at the 12th fret.

At first, I thought, “Is the guitar in open G tuning?” But I soon discovered that it wasn’t a standard guitar at all – it was the pedal steel. And this was the beginning of my journey of trying to replicate pedal steel licks on Telecasters.

At the end of the tune, James comes in with a funky chordal lick based on an E7 voicing, not unlike Figure 4.

When I got a hold of a B-Bender guitar, I started to write songs with it, such as Pretty Little Lie [from The Whippoorwill].

Figure 5 replicates the opening B-Bender lick on standard guitar; many of the slide and hammer-on articulations here were actually sounded by pulling down on the B-Bender. Our song Lonesome for a Living features both B-Bender guitar and pedal steel.

If you want to hear some great B-Bender playing by Clarence White, check out the Byrds’ Live at the Fillmore – February 1969 and Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde.

White’s guitar now belongs to the great Marty Stuart, who has taken the art of B-Bender playing even further. And for a B-Bender masterclass, listen to Albert Lee’s playing on Dave Edmunds’ Sweet Little Lisa.

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

As Scottish rock greats, Celtic rock luminaries, and two-time Grammy nominees, Big Country can be called many things. Just don't call them blues.

Formed by Skids guitarist Stuart Adamson and his foil, Bruce Watson, in 1981 after Adamson's punk outfit had, err, hit the skids, the pair didn't have much of a vision at first.

One thing they did do, however, was look at Thin Lizzy’s marriage of traditional Celtic music with rock and draw huge inspiration from it. But not every facet.

“If you were to pick a song, it would be Whiskey In The Jar,” says Watson in the new issue of Guitarist. “That one would fit alongside [Big Country’s own] Fields Of Fire or something. But it’s more of a sound thing – the reverb on the guitars and a melody. There’s a lot of melody in what [Thin Lizzy guitarist] Eric Bell's doing, but there’s a bit of string bending, and we didn't want to do that.”

Consequently, the pair established one golden rule that they’ve sworn by ever since.

“Instead of bending, we’ll just play the note,” Watson affirms. “We’ll slide up to the note, play that note, and we’ll not bend up to it, 'cos automatically you go into blues when you do that.”

It was a musical territory they were keen not to find themselves steering into. That also meant avoiding the more free-flowing elements of the genre, too.

“Guitar solos are meant to be almost free-form – you wouldn't play the same thing twice – and we wanted to keep everything exactly the same, so that when you played it live, it would be the same as how you recorded it,” Watson underscores. “There was none of this, ‘I’ll just do a solo and busk it...’”

Their playing ethos, then, was a world away from what Buddy Guy just did at NPR’s famous Tiny Desk – but what they created was wholly unique. Sure, there are echoes of Thin Lizzy’s twin-harmony guitars throughout their discography, but there were strange effects galore, too, including the use of a harmonizer pedal to replicate the sound of bagpipes as they doubled down on their roots.

Their 1983 debut album, The Crossing, went platinum as the band skyrocketed to success; the golden rule worked.

The band is featured in the new issue of Guitarist alongside a 75th birthday celebration of the Fender Telecaster and a new interview with Eric Johnson.

Head over to Magazines Direct to order a physical or digital copy today.