Guitar Info

I received a very kind and generous offer to see Adrian Belew last week at Joe’s Pub in Manhattan. It was an opportunity to meet someone I had been doing business with via phone & email for over a year so I was looking forward to the evening on two levels.

I arrived a bit early and would-up baby-sitting the reserved table for about 30 minutes. This gave me a chance to do my usual survey of the surroundings. Joe’s pub is a really nice place to see live music; intimate, but not tiny and very hip atmosphere. I did notice that about every seven minutes, the 4/5/6 subway runs right below the venue and not only can you feel it, but little waves formulate in your drink. I couldn’t quite figure out if the sound of the subway was an “A” or “G”… but I think it was around there. (Yes, I actually try to figure out what notes things are… it’s a personality quirk. I’m not particularly good at it, but I struggle to not do it most of the time.)

It was about now that I really noticed how cold it was in the venue. As it was incredibly hot out all day, this was welcome and refreshing.

My friend showed up with his wife and we had a chance to meet in person and talk a bit before the show started. It went great and it was a real pleasure to finally put the face to the name. He and his wife are big fans of all things guitar, so the conversation took off like a Saturn V rocket.

Out of the blue, there was a surreal loop of music that seemed to come from everywhere. The refreshing cold was starting to feel less refreshing and I found myself counting my goose-bumps, but it was kind of an interesting background to the loop...kind of like visiting Santa's Shop at the North Pole, while peaking on acid. Finally, Adrian Belew walked out to a warm and generous applause. He immediately kicked into a riff and within seconds had sampled it, looped it, built some more complimentary riffs on top if it, and then was singing the melody.

At first I thought to myself: “Well, this is pretty much what I expected: loops, layers of loops, and then melodies on tops of the loops… I mean what else can one guitarist do for two hours….?” But as he moved into the second and third songs, Adrian wove a tapestry of rhythms and sounds that was quite interesting. After about five or six songs, he had a Q&A session. It was pretty cool to see die-hard fans so excited as they were able to ask him about things they were interested in. There were questions about his audition with Zappa’s band (his answer included a great story about a five year old Dweezil giving him the finger as he rode around on his tricycle), King Crimson, Bowie, Fripp… all good stuff and he was very gracious about answering a few zany questions.

The waitress asked me if I wanted another Coke. I said “Sure, but no ice this time please…. man is it cold in here…” She brought me my Coke, but could offer no remedy for the cold.

Back to the music, and there was plenty of it. He was using the Adrian Belew Signature Fly and it was impressive. At one point there seemed to be two tunings in use at the same time. I’m usually pretty good at deciphering this kinda stuff, but I must admit, I couldn’t quite figure out how he did it. My only guess is that he was able to route the output of each string individually and use pitch shifting to create a custom tuning scheme, while blending in standard tuning.

Now I am starting to shiver: “… man, it’s friggin’ cold in here!”

One of the last songs was a piece that was building very nicely; he had created some layered loops and was doing this east-Indian-flavored solo that was just awesome. Right at the climax point of his solo, there was a series of sub-sonic tones that was so low; it felt like it was coming from under the building. I It was as if three accompanists had hit their low “B” strings on their five-string-basses at the same time… I could not figure out how he could make a sound that low.

“..holy Crap!” I thought to myself “….that’s the subway!..”

It was such perfect timing…. a random accompaniment from a NYC subway train that was totally a part of the music (I still can’t figure out if it was a fourth or a fifth below what he was doing, but it was in tune with the song). It was the first time in the whole night that I completely forgot that I was freezing cold…. While being totally random, it was one of those moments when you really get what an artist is shooting for. I was smelling the spores, drinking the cool-aid and a renewed fan for sure.

Summary: I first saw Adrian Belew in college in 1983 in a park filled with about college 3,000 students. It was very (very) hot out that day. I remember well because he spent a lot of time tuning between songs and commented on it often, saying that the heat was a “bit of a problem”. It’s funny how 27 years later, in a freezing cold room, the temperature was no problem. Of course, a big reason for that is the very well made guitar that he was using this evening vs. the guitar he used back then. I don’t remember too much else about that first Adrian Belew show as I was, uh… well, in a very “Celebratory” state that day. It was a much different experience last week at Joe’s pub. I was more tuned in to every subtlety of what he was doing. What made it so much fun is that at times, I could not keep up; both rhythmically and harmonically, he was wondering into some pretty odd parts of town that in moments, were over my head, even when I quietly tried to tap the quarter note on my leg… a few times, I lost the beat.

A nice icing on the cake was that my friend and his wife knew Adrian quite well. I went back stage with them as they wanted to say hello. It was great to see what an incredibly nice, humble and down-to-earth guy he was. They made plans to meet up later and off we went to have some drinks. It had been a long day for me and had to get some sleep, so I was not able to join my friends as they meet up with Adrian. It would have been interesting to meet him personally and have the chance to talk shop. But as they headed off to join him, I had to say goodbye, and wandered out into the night, going over in my mind, the many moments in the show that I had really enjoyed.

Ironically, as I walked along 8^th street towards Broadway and then 6th avenue, I had to laugh out loud: I was so happy to be back in the sweltering New York City heat!

Have a great week,

Kevin

Several years ago, I was doing a short residency in Las Vegas. I learned very quickly that if you don’t gamble, there aint’ much to do in that city. So, I spent a lot of time clicking around the dial in my hotel room. Boring.

One night after the show, the lead vocalist persuaded me to go out and see a band that he had met earlier that day on the strip. Off we went. I can’t remember which casino it was; they are all so unique and exploding with character. At some point we entered a lounge where five or six guys and two girls were up on stage ripping through a medley of pop funk hits for some dancing gamblers. So I ordered a drink, grabbed a bowl full of pretzels (or peanuts) and proceeded to settle in for the remainder of their set.

The guy I was with was super charismatic, so within minutes he was dancing with most of the good looking women in the room. I of course was busy analyzing the sound system, what kind of pedal board the guitarist was using (Roland GT5), the vibe between the band members (bassist and backup singer were definitely sleeping together and mad at each other), guessing the chords / key signatures of each song, and so forth. This is my sad idea of fun.

As I was dissecting the environment, I was starting to get this really weird taste in my mouth; kind of like when you chew aspirin. I knew I was not going to get sick, but something was not right. I began fiddling with my drink more and more, subconsciously squirming in my seat. This continued for some time and I finally realized that it was actually the sound that was throwing me off. Everything looked ok, but something just felt out of place.

And then it hit me. These guys were going 100% direct.

Ugghhhh… I did a quick re-review and realized that my initial analysis was very sloppy. No amps, and the drummer was using an electronic kit. The more I listened, the more everything I saw made perfect sense. I felt like I was in a space station. The volume was so perfectly perfect…. It was neither loud nor soft, it was just kind of “there,” not really emanating form any one spot.

During the break, I chatted up the guitarist and found out that when they arrived in town, they had to sign a contract stating that if they deviated from a specific decibel level in the slightest, they’d be fired and forfeit their pay. He was bummed about it, but their residency was for three months, so they were thrilled to have the work.

Fast forward about three years and I find myself on stage in a tiny little club in central Europe. I was doing a three month residency, 5 sets of Funk / Rock Blues each night, 6 nights a week. What a haul. But most nights, the place was packed; everyone dancing their brains out, the air was smoky as hell, and the walls just dripping in sweat. I wound up playing there a bunch of times, usually doing a one-month stay and it was always a lot of fun. The nightly cleaning crew always ignored the stage, so at the end of each one-month run, we’d spend a portion of our last night drunkenly clearing our gear out for the next band that was due to arrive in the morning.

It was always funny to see the crap that had built up over the last 28 nights; broken glass, lost passports, false teeth, hypodermic needles, all kinds of wonderful stuff. For me, that pile of crap that we swept into a bucket at 5AM was always an indication of how the residency had gone; the more weird crap we found, the better the gig usually had been. Each time I experienced this ritual, I always came to the same conclusion:

“The dirt, the muck, the filth… I love it”

This does not have so much to do with the actual dirt that had accumulated over the weeks, but the stuff that goes along with a live gig. Even when I have played some pretty nice places, there is always some conceptual sweating and philosophical smoke. The combustion in the sound, the drinks that fall over, etc… but most importantly, there is the sound of guitars (or keyboards) through an amplifier and drums. Anything less and… and I start to get that “chewing aspirin” taste in my mouth again.

Summary: I can’t fault those guys for taking that gig in the antiseptic Vegas lounge; everyone needs work, especially musicians. And in fairness, the gig I was doing that week was nothing too amazing at all, so I never meant to judge them... Not every gig is gonna be so great, sometimes you just gotta pay the bills. But I’m kinda glad that there are not too many places like Las Vegas. I think live music should not be hermetically sealed; there has to be some rough edges. I do understand that in certain situations, the manager of a club / lounge has to do whatever they need to do in order to keep the customers spending money.

I’ve had some pretty weird gigs in my life, but in most cases, there are at least a few sonic imperfections, which I think is just part of the formula. It’s the human element. I think this is why a faded pair of jeans that you have owned for 5 years cannot be replicated by “The GAP”, and why “Reliced” guitars are, well… uh, let’s just say they are not my cup of tea. Bumps and scratches are part of life, even in the sound we send out from the stage. Those frayed edges give the moments of brilliance / success / harmony relevance. Of course we all strive and hope for as much good stuff as possible in our performance, but as we aim for 100%, we know that if we hit 80%, we’ve probably had a pretty good night. The other 20% of the sound / performance / solo / stage banter, etc… that sometimes falls flat, falls on the floor, or gets peanut butter stuck in it, well… that’s just part of the deal.

I never really thought about all this even once, until that one time in the Vegas lounge when it was not there. Then I missed it, really bad.

Have a great week,

Kevin

Many guitarists grow up with posters on their wall. These posters at some point represent mythical figures that are worshiped and praised. Why do we honor these gods so, and does this behaviour play any useful role in our growth process?

My Short answer is: "Because we don't know any better", and "Yes"

While there may be exceptions to this, many of us at one point in our early years became pretty fascinated with a guitarist. It starts with a friend "hipping" you to the record, you then borrowing the record for longer than you promised, you eventually having to buy (or steal) a copy for yourself, you wearing out the record (or tape, or CD, etc...), you obsessively dissecting their playing on the record... and then there is “the second album” and then the "Live in Japan" album, and the "Studio Out Takes Import", etc...

Stop: Some may say that they never did this. They picked up the guitar, took lessons, learned, and never once along the way, ever put another guitarist above themselves on the value scale. Some people are either lying to themselves or are in-fact truly unique and very talented. Both are completely possible. Now, let's forget about this 1/2 of the 1% of the population and get back to the rest of us.

When you are 12, or 16, it is likely that this guitar god is more experienced than you are. But I think a big reason why we are in such awe of these people is very simple:

You have to get up every morning, go to school, do things you hate, and listen to your parents. These folks in the posters do not.

So, really what is happening is that in tandem with the fact that they have been bending the cat-gut for a while and are capable of some wicked rockin’ they are also living a life you dream of. So you worship the package, the image, the concept. But that is ok because hopefully, you are worshiping someone who really makes great music, or at least motivates you to practice diligently. But what happens when you actually start to develop some real skills? Does the worship end? No, it morphs.

As I got to a point where I no longer had to get up, go to school or listen to my parents, I started to apply some scrutiny to my blind faith. I went through phases where I decided: “…Oh, Jimmy Rocker was never really that great… I mean, I know all his licks now, and what has he done lately…?” or “…man, when I was 16, their first album was the BOMB!.... but when I look back, they all sound wasted, and the songs are kinda hokey….. I guess I’m as good as Jimmy Rocker now….”

And then I would find an interesting article about Mr. Rocker and realized that unbeknownst to me, he did every solo on the first album in one take, or he played bass on the last four cuts because Gerry McSnide was in rehab that week and the label was pressuring them to master before the holidays, etc…..

So then I’m thinkin’ “…wow, Jimmie was one deep dude, I guess I never realized that there was more goin’ on in that band then just Marshall Stacks, $100 bills and mirrors….”

But then I find out 5 years later that they re-dubbed some of the solos on the “Live in Japan” album. I’m heartbroken. But then one day I actually meet Mr. Rocker on the corner of 8^th Ave. and 50^th Street in Manhattan, totally stumble through some speech about how I learned to play guitar because of him and he is insanely cool, friendly and easygoing. Now I go back and listen to “Live in Japan” again, and realize: It rocks. So what if a few of the solos were over-dubbed. Jimmy was super nice that day I met him, and I always liked their tunes anyhow.

Summary – This was all a bit tongue-in-cheek. Your “Jimmie Rocker” could have been Pat Metheny, Johnny Marr, Earl Klugh or some other legitimate axe-slinger. Point here is that I have found myself re-examining my idols as I’ve gotten older. Some I let go of many moons ago. Some I feel like I’ve grown up with and they have been kind of like the big brother who does not know me or give a crap about me. That’s ok. If I was Pete Townshend, I wouldn’t give a crap about Kevin Chisholm either.

But as I’ve grown as a person and (hopefully) a guitarist, I’ve come to understand my fascination with certain musicians, most of whom are a generation ahead of me. The ones who I still admire, I see with much more depth; they no longer exist on a piece of poster-grade paper on my wall, held in place with push-pins. They are people. They do stupid things, make great albums, marry super-models who take all of their money, inspire many young musicians, license their name out to crappy products, make incredible music that I really connect with, license their name out to pretty good products, and so on. I don’t really know how my journey through the world of guitar would have been without my heroes. They inspired and motivated me. Even though I realized as an adult that they are less than perfect, it is that complex imperfection that makes them even more inspiring. I now know how much patience and effort it takes to ride in a van for 12 hours to get to a gig or how important it is to hear a band mate out when they have an idea, even if you think their idea is retarded. I never knew or thought about this kinda stuff when I was 14. I just thought my idols walked around in their stage clothes all day and were best friends. Even though my personal experience involved a lot of self-discipline as well as trial-and-error, growing old with my guitar gods has also been an interesting experience that has provided me some useful perspective on the music business, and in a funny way, some of life’s ironies.

If everyone was a big rock star, then being a big rock star would not be such a special thing.

If everyone was a really cool person and just loved to play guitar as much as they could, I think that would work out pretty well.

Have a great week,

Kevin

Drive is kind of like skin color; everyone has some, but how much and what shade of color is a big aspect of the visual differences between humans. In much the same way, how much drive and what shade of it you have in your signal plays a big role in your tone.

Some may say: “Nope, not me… I don’t use no drive, none at all..” well… every amp has a gain stage. So, even if you play super wickedly clean like Robert Cray or similar, you just have a very low amount of gain in your signal. There has to be gain, or else there would be no sound. It’s just that a very clean sound with tons over overhead uses minimal pre-gain, and lots of power-amp output. But let me not beat that point to death any more, I’m sure someone out there will debate me and say that they “..use no gain.” Let’s just assume I’m making a reasonably valid point. That all said, people’s voices, personalities and car types vary in foundation; A VW Bug will just never be the same car as a two-ton truck and a large baritone man will never produce the same vocal sounds as a petite woman. Boith are humans, but the basic genetic makeup means they
are starting out from different places.

I find the same with Overdrive. What I find funny, is that people actually debate which overdrive pedal is “better”. Well, it really depends on what you are trying to accomplish. It seems that one of the most popular “Goals” for a pedal is: “Plexi in a box”. If I see one more ad in Guitar World that says that I am gonna bonk myself in the head with a giant stick. If you want to sound like you are playing through a plexi that is dimmed, then plug into a plexi, run your fingers across the dials, and then proceed to rock out accordingly.

“But I can’t man… I mean, my neighbors would totally freak out, and my old lady?… oh Jeez, she would just flip on me and I can’t have that man ‘cause… well.. she kinda pays most of……er..uh….well at the moment she pays all the rent, but my band just got a major deal with a tiny little lable from Antartica and y’know…. Our first single is comin’ out in 2017, so… I’m gonna be able to deal with my half of the rent soon…. But nah… I really can’t play that loud at home… y’know..?”

...’cmon… you all know at least one guy like this. I’m man enough to admit that I was that guy once in my life.

Point here is that there are all these classic tones that folks often want, and they want to reach for a spray can, spritz the room and then enjoy the smell of a “Plexi” or a “Vox” or a “Tweed” or a “Quadruple Rectifier…” Etc. I know that many do not base their sound on a particular model but just twist and tweak and surf the airwaves for the tone that feel works best for the moment, a song, or a lifetime, but the fact remains that unless you play very clean, or can afford to push a little air, it is likely that at some point, you have, do, or will, stop on a box for the right amount of juice. Most out there have tried a few overdrive pedals in their life, some have tried many. I have definitely blown more than a few million bucks tyring as many as I could get my hands on.

While I do have my favorites, I aknowlege that they are my favorite because they work best for me. I defintely don’t think that they are “the best” because the next guy or gal might be tyring to get a more thick-mids tone with lots of gain, instead of the jangly semi-clean tone that I like. Everyone like / wants / needs something different.

I have found a few pedals that I feel offer a pretty wide range of drive that allows you to go from darn-clean to dam-driven. Personally, I feel the Radial Tonebone Trimode, Tonebone Hot British and Fulltone OCD are quite goodin that area. I’ll never say “Best”, but these three offer a great range, plenty of transparency as well as less-transparency (if you want that). Then again, some might use an overdrive for Metal Sounds, or want the best Guitar Pedal for the Van Halen Tone, Eric Clapton’s Tone, or what have you. It’s a big world with lots of choices. I tend to bristle at the “Plexi in a box” or “Fender Deluxe Reverb in a box” kind of thing. But some of those are not too bad in their own way and hey, if someone plugs into it and finds their holy-grail sound, more power to ‘em… I mean, who the hell cares what Kevin Chisholm thinks? (Note: do not feel obliged to agree with that statement).

There are a few that I have come across over the years that I loved merely for the kitsch factor. While Menatone does make some really great pedals, the "King of the Britains" is the one I loved. Of course they couldn’t name it “This pedal will make you sound just like you are playing through a Marshall”… so they came of with King of the Britains. I love it. Not a bad pedal. Not a holy-grail, but it does sound ok if you can turn up your amp a little bit (it sounds kinda lame at low volumes).

My favorite flavor of drive of all time is gotten from plugging strait in and just turning the amp all the way up to 10. I grew up thinking that bigger amps were always better. I was wrong. Few people can really turn a 100-watt amp up to ten. Small amps rock, they just sound friggin’ great because you can often dime them with no negative social implications. My favorite of all time is the Fender Super Champ. But I’ll save my drooling praise of that little sweetie for another post. I have had a half-power switch installed in a few Fender Deluxe Reverb amps and that was (for me) a perfect fit; loud enough to gig, but not that much over head so the breakup was creamy
and just downright lovely… and the feeling of literally doing a whole 3-set night with one guitar, one pick, one cord and one amp was one that I liked.

Summary: Well, I’ve picked another topic that has many right and wrong answers depending on who you ask. But the “Concept” of drive is in everyone’s tone. Some have very little, some use a lot, most of us fall somewhere in the middle. It’s hard to get much useful drive strictly out of an amp at low volumes, you often cannot turn up too much, so….we gots the pedals. And the pedals come in more flavors than Baskin Robbins ice cream. Which flavor of ice cream you choose is very personal as is the choice of cone (I prefer wafer) and if you like sprinkles (I like a lot of ‘em).

Me? Use analogies when I write? Nah….. : - )

Have e a great week,

Kevin

There is an interesting book by Barry Schwartz called "The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less". In it, Schwartz discusses the ironies that surround people today in terms of the perceived value attached to the ever-increasing abundance of choices. The more I thought about this, the more I started to think that as guitarists, we face a similar paradox.

It will become easily apparent here that I am dating myself. But regardless of your age or how long you have been actively playing, I think most will find that in your time with the guitar, there have been changes and the trend with many products is to offer more value for the same or a lower price.

This argument probably holds the most weight with regards to electronic devices as nano technology makes it more and more possible to squeeze more sounds, parameters and other options into smaller chips. But even with guitars, there is an increase in the array of materials being offered; stainless-steel vs nickel frets, various exotic woods for neck back and fingerboards, locking vs vintage-style tuners, sophisticated switching that allows three pickups to offer more than five sounds, etc...

Here comes the part where my wrinkles and Grey hair start to show.

When I was first getting into and over-dosing on electric guitar around the mid-‘70s the choices were few:

• Guitars: You saved for a Gibson or a Fender, and settled for anything else, unless you really wanted an Ibanez or Epiphone and had a good reason for it.
• Pedals: You saved for months, just to buy one pedal that pretty much made one kind of sound that was rarely a sound anyone in your band wanted to hear for more than a few seconds. And then you lived with that crummy effect for another six months or whenever you could afford another one.
• Amps: If you were lucky enough to have an amp with a Master Volume you still wished you had more drive and wished it sounded better at lower volumes.

I'm being overly general here, but I have few memories that involve me or any of my friends not wrestling with these issues. Then, In 1984 someone showed me a Sholz Rockman and that was pretty cool; at least you could feel like you were playing loud wihtout driving everyone nuts. There were three settings; "Clean", "Semi-Driven" and "Driven", plus chorus and a little echo. I thought that it would have been nice to be able to really dial in the amount of drive or chorus you wanted, and I never really went out of my way to save for one, but I still thought that it was a pretty big breakthrough. Then in 1990, Zoom came out with a simialr unit called the 9002 that allowed you to change the amount of any effect, and there were several (including compression, which I just thought was awesome), and you could save 4 or 8 patches for later recall (can’t remember exactly how many). This unit sounded pretty good and again, you could pump this all through the headphones for late night jamming with the T.V. or four-tracking.

I could go on and on in my guitar-ish time-travels through the’70s, '80s and '90s, detailing each major breakthrough in guitar technology, but I think you get the picture; as time goes on, we have more options for a few more bucks, maybe even less. Now here we are with amps like the Line 6 Vetta II and Fender Cyber Twin SE. Both amps sound pretty amazing, and that is coming from someone who is generally against mixing computers and guitars. In my opinion, the Vetta II is a real stand-out. But just as with Multi-Effects Processors , I often have had mixed feelings about the end-result:

Do we really need / want so many choices, or do we think we do, simply because we can have them and they are affordable?

My experience has been that I, and most guitarists I speak to, have three critical sounds that the need when performing. Of course it differes from person to person based on your genre. I have played mostly Blues, R&B, Funk and some Rock for the last 20 years. So, I always need a clean sound, a slightly driven sound that I can tweak depending on the song, and a lead sound. I almost never need more. Whether you play Metal, or Polka or Jazz, do you honestly always have to have 9 or 10 different sounds, or is it really a matter of two or three sounds that need to be great, and you need to be able to toggle between easily?

Whenever I have to use a back-line and sound-check time is at a minimum, I simply make sure I can get my main three sounds reliably out of whatever amp I have to use, and make sure that switching between them is not gonna blow a fuse or introduce local police transmissions into my sound.

Needless to say, there are many exceptions to this. An obvious one would be if you are in a working cover / club date / wedding band and really have to "Nail" a certain tone for a certain song. I once saw a good friend playing in an Isley Brothers tribute show and he just nailed the phase sound on "Who's that Lady?" using his Boss GT 6. It was perfect. In such a case, lots and lots of sounds and choices are rarely a bad thing.

OK Kevin, what exactly is your point here?

In his book, Mr. Schwartz makes reference to the loss of certain dynamics that used to be a staple of human life and often came from families and relationships. Instead he states, we are fed concepts and and imagery that suggest our lives could be a certain way if we "Just do it..." (Nike), or similar concepts. But in the end, wearing a certain brand of clothes or drinking a certain energy drink will not change our lives. I think that for the most part, our lives are changed by events / decisions / actions / etc.. that usually involve interacting with other people. Same for guitar tone.

"Uh.. um… Really Kevin... are you friggin' serious all this?"

Actually, Yes. I am.

I think there was a time when guitarists spent countless hours on the edge of their bed, trying to coax a certain tone out of their instrument. I know I sure as heck did. I think many out there have too. it is very common when you are young; you simply do not have enough money to go out and buy whatever pedal / amp you think is guaranteed to to give you "That Sound...." whatever sound it is you are looking for.

Even when I was a bit older and had jobs, and could actually afford to go out and buy two pedals in one day, or almost any amp I wanted, it never really turned out to be that quite simple. It seems to me that great tone, just like great relationships in life, take time and work. You can't really just dial-in a "Magic Patch" and "Wham!", you have your holy-grail tone. Granted, some of these digital modeling amps / pedals really do give you the tools to nail someone Else's tone for a certain song... and as I mentioned, there are situations where that is just perfect. But at the end of the day, don't we all really want our own tone? Wasn't it just the coolest feeling in the world the first time someone walked up to you after a gig and said "Wow, I love your tone..." I always preferred that to compliments about my playing. And believe me, I'm not saying I've gotten so many of either. But the few times when I was fortunate enough to have someone remark about my tone in a positive way, it always felt very good… much better than “Hey Great solo on Voodoo Chile…”

"hmmmmm…..Ok Kevin, so what you are saying is that the only way anyone can get a really great tone is to toil away at it for years and endure a certain amount of suffering in order to get to that point?..."

Uh... kinda.. but not really.

Q: Is it possible to pick up the guitar for the first time and after only one year, you find an awesome tone that you love, everyone else loves, and never ever give it another moment's thought for ever and ever?

A: Yes. But it is unlikely.

I think that most players who have found a sound (or a few sounds) that they like, and that others like as well, have spent some time cultivating that sound. they tried many different guitars / pickups / amps / speakers / etc... to really find that magical combination. I can describe every inch of my favorite guitar, the two pedals I cannot live without, my favorite pickups, and the two amps that I'd prefer to be stranded on a deserted island with. But the actual details are not the point. The point is that because I spent so many minutes / hours / days / weeks / months and years with a soldering iron in my hand, or locked in a room with several patch cords and pedals and amps, trying to get the sound that I heard in my head to come out of the amp, because of all this time... when I woke up one day and really said, out loud: "Yeah, that's the sound I was looking for. I'm done”….it was a feeling that I don't think I could have gotten by simply choosing "Patch # 32"... it felt like a kid that I had raised for 20+ years and today was the day that he / she graduated from University with excellent grades.

In Summary: I have nothing against digital modeling at all. In fact, I have many positive things to say about it and will in the near future. It's the same way I feel about Cable TV; sure, I miss the romance of the Rabbit-Ear antennae, having to fuss with them in order to get my favorite show to come in and the feeling of accomplishment when I did, but I certainly do enjoy clicking around the 3,000 channels I have now for $50 / month. The title of this post, and the very long journey through my feelings about tone here are merely to point out that while it is very cool that all this excellent technology makes is so incredibly easy to sample / loop / model / 8-track / mix / tweak, etc... and do so many very (and I do mean very) cool things for very little money, there is (in my opinion) nothing like seeing a really good guitarist up there on stage getting a really great tone with mostly their fingers, their instrument, a few choice pickups / parts / pedals, and not much more... and knowing that it it took some effort and time to really arrive there. It just sounds different. Better? we can argue that for days, but it is a sound that I feel we all know when we hear it. And I don't think it always comes from having another 64 pre-sets of classic amp / pedal models of added value in your “Jibloom EtherCrest-5000”. It takes time and effort to discover and nurture. Just like most things of real value in life.

Kevin Chisholm

Sometimes I don't know who is more particular about the particulars; physicists, art collectors, or Blues Guitarists. I can't even begin to count how many times I've had to referee a near bare-knuckle brawl over which was better; "Ceramic" Capacitors or "Paper in Oil". Holy Moley, the level of detail that is debated about guitars.... so, am I completely out of my mind to even bring up the topic of "Best Blues Guitar Pickup" ?

Totally.

But first, we must take a moment for my disclaimer: Discussions of guitar pickups are more subjective than that of lovers and football teams. Everything that follows here is merely my opinion. I do not claim to be right, smarter than the average bear or more experienced than the next civilian. I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on T.V.

Ok, disclaiming done.

That all said, I am much more of a 25 1/2" scale kinda guy; hence my Les Paul with hardly a scratch on it, and my pile of Tele & Strat bodies that look like they go back to the Johnson administration. So, my taste in pickups tends to meander more into single coil territory. Although, a pair of early to mid '70s T-Tops are also very very nice to sprinkle on your Cocoa Puffs in the morning. But I digress.

Today I ask permission to rave about the DiMarzio DP408 Virtual Vintage '54 Pro. I have gone 'round and 'round on the subject of Dimarzio pickups ever since I bought my first X2n in 1979...or 1980... it's all getting a bit fuzzy... and what the heck was I thinking buying an X2n? (answer: I was young and stupid), but I digress again. After all the back and forth with Dimarzio pickups, never hating, just flip-flopping on how much I liked 'em, I came across the Virtual Vintage series. I stopped, stomped out my cigarette, got down on one knee, and proposed on the spot.

I just can't find anything to not love about these puppies. Loud, Snappy, Crisp and no hum.... my kinda girl. And when I say no hum, I mean 4-trackin' late at night, plugged into your overdrive, pro-tools fired-up, your guitar a mere one inch from the monitor... no hum. Now that's a bit extreme.... but y'know, there you are on stage, playin' louder than you know you are supposed to, you stomp on your favorite OD, kick into your big solo, and no screech, no hum, just really great tone. Sold, I'll take two... no wait, I'll take three.

I think these are particularly outstanding because while they do nail the vintage thing, they also handle serious drive with no problem. They are excellent in a set and play well with other kids too. Some say that all the members of the Virtual Vintage series are too bright. Well, I have always felt that it is a bit easier to darken up a bright pickup than it is to accomplish the opposite. Personally, I don't think it's an issue at all. These darken up very nicely and I believe that most amplifiers built in the last 70 years have at least one or two knobs that allow you to adjust your tone.... unless I'm missing something.

I know... someone is gonna chime in here that "XYZ Bonker Rails" or the "Acme Jilbo 5000" is a better pickup for Blues. See my rambling disclaimer at the top of this post please, and then come back. Of course I love a bunch of other single coil pickups for Blues. I've only written about a gazillion articles about how great Fender Texas Specials are, as well as the very cool Seymour Duncan SSL-5, Maybe "Best" is to much, who knows. I will admit that I get a little over enthusiastic about pickups sometimes (yet if you ask me when is my Sister's birthday is I will will draw a blank). That is my cross to bear, I just love pickups.

In summary, I do hate to sound like a paid endorser of this Staten Island marvel, but what a great pickup. Bell like chime? you got it. Thick / Leathery / Creamy molasses? You got it. Serious Grindage when you pull the tap off the keg? You got it. Not every pickup is gonna be everyone's cup of tea, but if you are still in search of one damn fine vintage & noiseless Strat pickup for Blues, this one is definitely worth a try. If you don't love it, fine, just throw it up on eBay and you'll get most if not all of your bucks back. You gotta really try pickups before you know if they are right for you. If you are looking for a new one (or set of three) to try, these are highly recommended. And if you want a low-maintenance way of dippin' your toe in the water, check out pre-wired assemblies, they really make your life a lot easier when experimenting with Strat or Tele pickups.

Kevin Chisholm

St. Patrick's Day 1978 is a day that I'll never forget; that was my first "Official" guitar lesson. While I had been tinkering with the instrument for a year or two at that point, this Saturday afternoon was the day that I had my first lesson and I don't remember thinking about too much else since then.