Jeff Beck and Eric Clapton have performed together several times over the years. They've even toured together.
But in terms of pure entertainment value, I haven't found anything as enjoyable than the clip at the bottom of this story.
It's from the Secret Policeman's Other Ball, a benefit show that took place September 9, 1981, at the Drury Lane Theatre in London. The show was produced by John Cleese of Monty Python and was eventually released as a film and album.
Although Beck and Clapton performed several songs together that day, including "Crossroads," the one performance that has sort of taken on a life of its own — with its 1.1 million-plus plays on YouTube — is their hopping rendition of Bobby "Blue" Bland's "Farther Up the Road."
It finds them trading solos, Clapton on a Strat with his clean late-Seventies sound, Beck playing Seymour Duncan's Telecaster, starting out high on the neck, then launching into a Billy Gibbons-like pinch harmonic.
While there's a great deal of tasteful stuff flying off the frets of both veteran players, Clapton's facial expressions during Beck's solos sort of say it all. His reaction is capped off at the 4:01 mark, when he lifts his arm as if to say, "Yeah, that was some pretty cool stuff, folks. I'm as impressed as you are."
The band is rounded out by Mo Foster on bass and Simon Phillips on drums. Enjoy!
On January 21, guitarist Monte Pittman — who is best known for his work with Prong and Madonna — dropped his third album, The Power of Three, through Metal Blade Records.
We recently caught up with Pittman between gigs to discuss his new album, what it's like to play for Madonna and, of course, his gear. Here’s what he had to say.
GUITAR WORLD: Musicians move to Los Angeles or New York City to make it big. What do you think made you stick out from the rest when you moved to L.A. from Texas?
I didn’t know what to expect. I just wanted to live somewhere I could work as a musician. Where I grew up, it was rare to even have a venue to play in. We had to go to Dallas or Shreveport to play. I think what made me stick out is I was ready for anything. I always say it’s bad luck to turn down a gig. Even if it’s music you’re not into, you never know who you're going to meet.
You worked with Madonna for years, thanks to your third student, Guy Ritchie. What was Guy like as a student? And what was it like meeting Madonna?
I didn’t know who he was at the time. Guy was busy finishing up Snatch, but he'd take the time to learn everything I gave him to work on. Madonna was really cool to me since day one. She’s always made me feel at home and treated me like family.
When I started teaching both of them, the Music album was coming out, and it had a lot of acoustic guitar on there. The day it came out, I went and bought the CD then went home and figured out the entire album to show to Guy the next day. One of the biggest obstacles teaching a new student is finding songs the student and teacher both know. Fortunately for me, there happened to be quite a few bands out at the time that had simple chord patterns I could reference with teaching.
As an artist with more of a rock and metal background, was it difficult in any way to play with Madonna — or is it all part of being a professional musician?
It was different because we had already become friends first. I had figured out a majority of her songs to teach her in guitar lessons, so I already knew most of them. A month after her first lesson, she asked me if I wanted to play on David Letterman's show with her. That’s what started us playing together.
A couple months after that, she was going to go on her first tour in seven years and asked me if I wanted to play guitar for her. She said she wanted me to keep teaching her and she was going to need a guitar player so I should come play for her. The biggest challenge musically isn’t what to play, it’s what not to play. In music, the space in between the notes can be as effective as what you're saying with the notes.
After your success with Prong, what made you want to release solo albums?
When I moved to Los Angeles, I just wanted to play music professionally. I wanted to eventually start my own band, but I was willing to join a band too. I joined Prong within the first weeks of moving there. For the upcoming decade, I found myself going back and forth between Madonna and Prong. I attempted to start a band in between that. Adam Lambert was my singer, and he had to officially quit the band to join American Idol.
Looking back, it seems there was always something in the universe pushing me forward to work on my own solo career. I started playing acoustic shows as Monte Pittman so I could play shows in L.A. I’ve always had an awesome singer in the bands I’ve played in, but I had to start being the singer because somebody had to do it. That slowly and naturally progressed to where it has brought me now.
My first album, The Deepest Dark, only has acoustic guitar and vocals, so I could recreate that anywhere. Live, some of those songs come across being heavy. My second album, Pain, Love, & Destiny, has those elements but with a band and guitar solos added. After playing that material at my shows, I needed faster and heavier songs because that’s what was getting the best response from the audience. I never intended on being someone else’s guitarist, but that’s where my path took me and I’m glad it did. I learned a lot in the process.
Your new album is a mix of heavy metal, acoustic music and some blues. What inspired you to mix all three? What was the main inspiration behind the songs?
I love playing all types of music. I was originally going to release three EPs — one acoustic, one blues and one heavy. I love playing an acoustic guitar with a bottle of wine by the fire. Coming from Texas, the blues just flows down the Sabine River. We grew up with it around us everywhere. Nothing beats cranking your amp up with your favorite guitar and having a shred up and down the neck.
When I gave Flemming Rasmussen the demos of what I was writing, he pushed me to focus on the heavy songs. I felt like I had done that with Prong and with my band Myra Mains I had in Texas. So I flew my band and our gear to Copenhagen to make the ultimate album I never had growing up. I wanted to make something that gave new life to what had influenced me when I started playing guitar. You have to take the music past where you found it. After recording The Power Of Three, I played the rough tracks for Brian Slagel and he signed me to Metal Blade.
What was it like working with Flemming Rasmussen, who worked on Metallica’s Master of Puppets?
Flemming is one of my favorite producers ever, and I love that he has done such a wide range of recordings. He’s mainly known for making the classic Metallica albums but he also made albums with Morbid Angel, Cat Stevens and Rainbow. That really appealed to me since I’ve got acoustic songs, straight-up rock songs and full-blown heavy songs.
Flemming had us all record playing together in the same room. We tracked all analog to tape. He pushed us when we needed to be pushed and he was invisible when we needed that. Every day when we started, he got our head in the game to focus on what he wanted to get out of us. Flemming becomes the next member of the band. He even played the snare drums with us on “Before The Mourning Son”!
Can you tell me about your gear? Do you have favorites for recording versus playing live?
I try to record with what I’m going to be playing live. I’ve been with Orange for more than 10 years now and I love everything they make. Sometimes if I like an amp's dirty channel, I’m not crazy about their clean channel. With Orange, I love both. Their clean channel works great with my Dunlop and MXR pedals. I use Seymour Duncan pickups in everything. I’ve got different models in different guitars.
Jarrell Guitars makes a Monte Pittman signature model for me called the MPS. Those guitars have custom-made pickups that MJ [Maricela Juarez] at Seymour Duncan makes. They do everything! I use D’Addario strings because they are the only strings I’ve used that have never broken on stage.
When we recorded The Power Of Three, I used an Orange TH30. Also, I’ve got a Marshall JC800 from 1983 that someone modified somewhere along the way. I don’t know what exactly they did, but it’s the loudest and heaviest amp I’ve ever heard. I used a Fractal Axe-FX in the mix also. I let Flemming dial in the sounds, and that’s the guitar sound on the new album.
What plans do you have for 2014?
I’m booking gigs on my own. That can be almost impossible, but I’m getting some dates locked down. We did a video for the song “Before The Mourning Son.” That’s my first video. We are going to do the next video pretty soon. As more and more people are hearing this album, new opportunities are being presented every day.
I’ve got demos for the next two albums after this and when the time comes, I’ll make the next album to follow up The Power Of Three, which will be an album that physically assaults you, then saws your face off. Sooner or later, there will be another Madonna tour but I’m hoping to get out there and play as many shows as possible until then.
This is an excerpt from the March 2014 issue of Guitar World. For the rest of this story, plus the 50 Greatest Eric Clapton Songs of All Time and features on Duane Allman and the Layla sessions, plus Johnny Winter, Don Felder, Guitar World's Readers Poll results and more (including gear reviews and John Petrucci's monthly column) — check out the March 2014 issue at the Guitar World Online Store.
He was one of the greatest electric blues guitarists of his time, but Michael Bloomfield is nearly forgotten today. His friend and collaborator Al Kooper hopes to change that with the new box-set retrospective From His Head to His Heart to His Hands.
On June 16, 1965, a young man sporting a Jewfro walked through the rain on New York’s Seventh Avenue to Columbia Studio A, a white Telecaster slung over his shoulder like John Henry’s hammer. Once inside, he wiped down the wet guitar, sat on a folding chair and played his way into history.
Until then, few people outside of his native Chicago had heard of Michael Bloomfield. A little over a month later, after that session’s first single, “Like a Rolling Stone,” was released, he was nearly as well known among musicians as the tune’s writer, Bob Dylan. Bloomfield’s roiling fills and lightning-strike licks in Studio A had put the high-voltage in Dylan’s first electric album, Highway 61 Revisited.
Just a month after that LP appeared, Bloomfield’s reputation was etched deeper with the release of The Paul Butterfield Blues Band. On that debut by his hometown outfit—Chicago’s first integrated blues band signed to a major label—Bloomfield played guitar with the authenticity and intensity that Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Peter Green, Jimmy Page and the other young guns of British blues aspired to attain. Clapton himself observed, “Mike Bloomfield is music on two legs.”
Bloomfield was 22 when he arrived on the music scene, blazing a path for guitarists that burned through the strata of multiple elements—jazz, country, world music, atonality—while staying faithful to his beloved blues. And while the legacy of Bloomfield’s artistry is still embedded in the muddy terra firma of American music, his influence is virtually uncelebrated today.
The new three-CD-plus-DVD box set From His Head to His Heart to His Hands, curated by Bloomfield’s friend and playing partner, rock and roll legend Al Kooper, aims to correct that.
“I’m trying to replicate what King of the Delta Blues Singers did for Robert Johnson in 1961,” says Kooper, referring to the 1961 compilation that rescued Johnson’s recorded legacy from obscurity. “A lot of people didn’t know about Johnson because so many decades had passed since he recorded, and yet when that album came out, English kids like Keith Richards, Mick Jagger and Eric Clapton were swept up by it. I want to do the same thing—catch people who don’t know what Michael sounded like or maybe don’t even know his name.
“I loved Michael’s music for the intellectualism of what he played, which is why I came up with the title. I think his music started in his head and then went to his heart before he played it. That’s what’s so great about it.”
Kooper spent a year going through tapes from the Columbia Records vaults, Dylan’s archives and other sources, including his own collection, to make the case for Bloomfield’s enduring greatness.
The set begins with three previously unreleased demo recordings from Bloomfield’s 1964 audition for the legendary record producer John Hammond, whose signings—which included Billie Holiday, Charlie Christian, Aretha Franklin, Leonard Cohen, Bruce Springsteen and Stevie Ray Vaughan—spanned several generations. (Hammond was also the driving force behind the King of the Delta Blues Singers compilation.) The songs from Bloomfield’s 1964 audition feature him playing acoustic Delta blues and an absolutely stratospheric high-torque country rag inspired by the great Kentucky-born picker Merle Travis. In all likelihood, those recordings would be lost if Kooper and Hammond hadn’t become neighbors years after the session. One day Hammond surprised Kooper with a two-track reel-to-reel copy, which is now the only one in existence.
Another gem comes at the set’s opposite bookend: a live recording of Bloomfield reunited onstage with Dylan at San Francisco’s Warfield Theater in 1980, months before his death from an overdose on February 15, 1981, at age 37. Sitting in on “The Groom’s Still Waiting at the Altar,” Bloomfield exorcises blitzing chromatic lines, quivering bends, warbling fingerpicked triads and keening slide from his head, heart and hands.
There are demos Bloomfield recorded with his own group after he was signed by Hammond, tracks from Highway 61 with the vocals peeled off to reveal the underlying brilliance of his playing, and roaring cuts from the Butterfield Band and Bloomfield’s own eclectic flower-power-era ensemble, the Electric Flag.
His celebrated 1968 Super Session and Live Adventures of Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper recordings are well represented, and Bloomfield’s slide guitar on Janis Joplin’s “One Good Man” is like a blade to the heart. The final recording, a gorgeous fingerpicked solo acoustic live take called “Hymn Time,” brings the performances full circle.
It’s here that the DVD Sweet Blues takes over. An hour-long documentary directed by Bob Sarles, the film expands on the music with interviews featuring Dylan, Kooper, Elvin Bishop, Electric Flag vocalist Nick Gravenites, Bloomfield’s ex-wife Susan Beuhler and others. Bloomfield himself serves as narrator, with Sarles using sections of a sprawling tape-recorded interview with the late guitarist to propel the narrative of his career—from his apprenticeship playing in Chicago clubs with Muddy Waters, Big Joe Williams and his other blues heroes to the sessions and festivals that were part of the apex of his popularity.
For the rest of this story, plus the 50 Greatest Eric Clapton Songs of All Time and features on Duane Allman and the Layla sessions, plus Johnny Winter, Don Felder, Guitar World's Readers Poll results and more (including gear reviews and John Petrucci's monthly column) — check out the March 2014 issue at the Guitar World Online Store.
Guitar World brings together 15 new signature guitars that can help you channel the spirit of your favorite ax slinger.
Ever since guitarists started gaining fame and fortune from their artistry, there have been players who wanted to emulate them. In response, guitar makers have created signature model guitars bearing the names of celebrated musicians.
As far back as the 1830s, top luthiers like Johann Stauffer and René Lacote were collaborating with leading guitarists of the day, including Luigi Lagnani, Fernando Sor and Napoléon Coste, to create custom models. This includes what are possibly the first seven-string guitars, designed by Coste and Lacote, some of which bear Coste’s name handwritten on the label inside the body.
The premise back then was much the same as it is today: as well-known and accomplished guitarists achieved new vistas of tone and technique, they lent their names and/or expertise to the design of instruments that—presumably—could help ordinary players attain similar musical feats. Even if you lacked the creative soul and dexterous fingers of a Sor, Hendrix or Vai, at least you could have the same kind of guitar.
The vogue for signature guitars escalated in the late Twenties and early Thirties as our modern concept of celebrity took shape around new innovations in entertainment technology such as phonograph records and movies with synchronized sound. The prime example of this phenomenon is the Gibson Nick Lucas model flattop acoustic, which was introduced in the late Twenties.
2Cellos — Luka Sulic and Stjepan Hauser — have filmed a new music video for their just-released cover of AC/DC's "Thunderstruck."
You can check it out below.
These guys might look — and sound — familiar to a good portion of our readers.
They're the Croatian cellists who had a huge taste of online success when their dueling-cellos version of Michael Jackson's "Smooth Criminal" went viral a few years back. They've also covered Jimi Hendrix's "Purple Haze," Guns N' Roses'"Welcome to the Jungle" and a whole lot more.
Their latest album, In2ition, was released in early 2013 via Sony Masterworks. The disc features Elton John (who sings Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well") and covers of tunes by Prodigy and, of course, AC/DC. In fact, Steve Vai even guests on an inspired version of AC/DC's "Highway to Hell."
"Thunderstruck," however, cannot be found on In2ition. It was released as a standalone single earlier this week — and you can check it out on iTunes here.
With the release of his new, four-song EP, In The Inbetween, on February 25, singer/songwriter Seiichi Daimo invites us into an intimate world of off-kilter but compelling songs.
The somewhat stark mix makes you sit up and pay attention, in a pleasant and satisfying way.
The title track, “In The Inbetween” kicks it off with a rollicking lilt and a singalong chorus.
With a solid beat and some badass banjo, it’s my favorite of the bunch.
The entire collection is well written and just different enough to get its grip on you and hold on tight.
Reminiscent of artists such as The Decemberists, City & Colour, and The Lumineers, Daimo takes on an indie-folk style, with lyrics written in a pop mindset. His Japanese/American home life injects some interesting influences into his writing and performance style.
Here we spent a few minutes getting to know Daimo and his new release. Check out this exclusive stream and read on...
What is the overarching idea behind the title of your new EP, In The Inbetween? "In The Inbetween" came about when I was at a point in my life where I was feeling stuck. I had come so far in my life but still had so far to go. I then realized that this concept was universally relatable. We are all in some state of transition. We are always changing, time is always moving forward. It became more a metaphor for the cycle of life.
How does your Japanese-American background play into your musicality? You recently visited Japan, right? Can you tell us about the trip and if it had any influence on your EP?
I think my Japanese background brings a very smooth flowing vibe to my music. As well as the structure of being a perfectionist. I recently visited Japan for the first time. I had the opportunity to meet all of my family out there. It was beautiful and definitely a life moment. I took back from the trip the sense that we can be so different, live on opposite sides of the world, and yet we are all connected. Human connection is there, it's just a second language that we all have to learn that they don't teach in school.
Who are some of your musical influences?
Early influences were bands like Brand New, Taking Back Sunday. Later influences are Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan. I listen and study all types of songwriters though.
Can you describe your songwriting process?
My songwriting is very free form. I like to start off with music first. Once I find something I like I will vocally project the feeling that the music is giving me. I begin ad-libbing words repeating phrases I like. I continue to build off of that until the song is done. A song will take me a long time to finish but I think that songs should. Writing words down always takes away how the words felt in the moment and slow things down so I usually never write anything down. In my experience if I forget a "really good line" then it wasn't that good. I think my process is a way to naturally filter. The good ones will stick.
You have an interesting cadence to your melody in “In The Inbetween.” Do you have some thoughts on how that came together?
With the song "In The Inbetween" in particular, I was in my car humming the song a capella, then the chorus just popped into my head. I actually had thought i had already finished the song as a verse bridge format song, but once the chorus came to be, I had to completely redo the song. I think it came out to be a fun song.
My main focus as a writer and singer is to be genuine and honest. To me that is most important. I think just from writing and singing for as long as I have I've developed a strong sense for who I am as an artist. To me it's important that when I write musically I write with enough room to make unique choices melodically. I want to be known as an original and that it all comes from the heart.
Tell us about some of the instruments you used on the EP.
Sure! I play an Art & Lutherie (Godin company) - Ami, cedar top parlor guitar. I love the warmth you get from both the parlor body style and cedar top. It was worked on by the famous luthier, David Petillo, son of the late Phill Petillo. He's such an amazing artist and world class Luthier. Other instrumentation was done on banjo for lead parts played by Joseph Stasio, who produced the record.
What's in store for you in 2014?
2014 is going to be a lot of touring! First tour will be a big city tour of Austin, LA, San Francisco, Philly, and NYC. Dates our to be announced. For updates you can check out seiichidaimomusic.com! Looking forward to meeting like minded people and enjoying new experiences! I'd like to leave you with my words to inspire. "Make this life your art" and "shine bright!"
Laura B. Whitmore is the editor of Guitar World's Acoustic Nation. A singer/songwriter based in the San Francisco bay area, she's also a veteran music industry marketer, and has spent over two decades doing marketing, PR and artist relations for several guitar-related brands including Marshall and VOX. Her company, Mad Sun Marketing, represents Dean Markley, Peavey Electronics, SIR Entertainment Services, Music First, Guitar World and many more. Laura is the founder of the Women's International Music Network at thewimn.com, producer of the She Rocks Awards and the Women's Music Summit and co-hosts regular songwriter nights for the West Coast Songwriters Association. More at mad-sun.com.
Former Megadeth and Cacophony guitarist Marty Friedman has released more details — including the complete track listing — pertaining to his upcoming solo album, Inferno.
He's also announced several spring tour dates with Firewind/Ozzy Osbourne guitarist Gus G. You can check out all the current dates below.
The album, which will be released May 27 in the U.S. through Prosthetic Records, was recorded primarily in Los Angeles with engineer Chris Rakestraw (Danzig, Children of Bodom) and mixed by Jens Bogren (Opeth, Amon Amarth).
It features what Friedman recently told Guitar World is "the most intense writing and playing I can do."
The album includes guest appearances by Rodrigo y Gabriela, Children of Bodom's Alexi Laiho, Skyharbor's Keshav Dhar and Revocation guitarist David Davidson. Also included is Friedman's first songwriting collaboration with Jason Becker since the pair played together in Cacophony.
Inferno even includes a mash-up with Jørgen Munkeby of "blackjazz" act Shining, plus two tracks featuring vocals by Danko Jones.
Kiss won't rock and roll all night — at least not the night of April 10, when they'll be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
The group, which turns 40 in 2014, can't decide on which version of the band should perform at the ceremony.
Should original members Ace Frehley and Peter Criss join Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley at the show? Or should the current lineup of the band — Stanley, Simmons, Eric Singer and guitarist Tommy Thayer perform?
At least for now, it doesn't matter all that much — since they've decided to not to perform at all.
Here's the entire statement from the band:
"Out of respect, Ace and Peter's recent statements demand a quick response to you, our fans.
"Our intention was to celebrate the entire history of KISS and give credit to all members including long time present members Tommy Thayer and Eric Singer, and additionally Bruce Kulick and Eric Carr all who have made this band what it is, regardless of the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame's point of view.
"Although KISS has moved forward far longer without them, Ace and Peter are at the very foundation of what we have built and this would all be impossible had they not been a part of it in the beginning.
"It is over 13 years since the original lineup has played together in make-up and we believe the memory of those times would not be enhanced. Contrary to claims made through the media we have never refused to play with Ace and Peter.
"We have spent 40 years dedicated to building KISS without quitting or wavering as the band has moved forward with huge tours and platinum albums through different important lineups for forty years, to this day.
"KISS has always been a band unlike any other. That is why we started KISS. That is why we continue KISS. Being unlike other bands also means making choices and decisions unlike other bands.
"This is understandably an emotional situation where there is no way to please everyone. To bring this to a quick end, we have decided not to play in any lineup and we will focus our attention on celebrating our induction into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame.
"We are excited and are looking forward to seeing you all on the KISS 40th Anniversary worldwide tour."
In the video below, which was posted last month by Charvel, guitarist Jake E. Lee discusses his Charvel signature model guitar.
The former Ozzy Osbourne and Badlands guitarist also discusses the roots of his original white Charvel, which started its life as a sunburst Fender Strat.
"With its unmistakable So–Cal ash body contours and lavender–hued Pearl White finish, the same instrument players have long clamored for becomes the first instrument in the Jake E. Lee Signature series."
For more about Charvel's Signature Series, visit charvel.com. For information about Lee's new band, Red Dragon Cartel, visit reddragoncartel.com.
Jamstar is a guitar-learning app for iOS, android and desktop computer.
Those looking for an interactive approach to learning guitar should check it out. It mainly targets beginner and intermediate players, but does contain more advanced lessons as well.
Upon first entering the program, a prompt will ask how much experience you have and then suggest a lesson to try.
There are plenty of lessons on each level covering everything from learning the strings and warm-up exercises to strumming chords with assortment of well-known songs.
Jamstar tracks your performance by using the mic of your phone, tablet, or pc to pick up the sound of your guitar. It seemed to pick up my acoustic guitar well enough and the sensitivity can be easily adjusted within any current lesson.
A built-in tuner will help guide anyone through the tuning process complete with note recognition, correct way to turn the tuning peg, and a voice guided prompt to let you know when to move to the next string. I found the tuner to be pretty accurate and easy to use.
Jamstar also has a practice mode for each lesson. This gives you 15 seconds to play each note or chord correctly. You also have the choice to slow the piece down and work up speed at your own pace.
The program keeps track of your progress, so you know where you need to improve based on how you did on each lesson. You also have the option to retake a lesson as many times as you want to get a better score. There are leaderboards so you can see how well you rank among other users. The ability to share your progress via Facebook or Twitter is also present.
In the marketplace you can browse the different courses based on playing levels or music genres. Once you have exhausted all of the freebies, additional lessons are just $.99. There are also songs to play along to by a variety of artists including Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, Foo Fighters, Green Day, Muse and more.
For more info or to try it free check out atjamstar.co
Cort’s MR Series of acoustic guitars has traditionally been viewed as their finest line of instruments at affordable prices. This year, they are adding the MR600F. The new model is outfitted with the Fishman Isys Plus preamp and Sonicore pickup to provide a high quality, good sounding acoustic guitar with built in electronics.
The MR600F is a dreadnought body with a Venetian cutaway for unhindered playability up and down the fretboard. With mahogany back and sides, the body is topped with a solid spruce top and advanced scalloped X bracing for overall performance. The 25.3” mahogany neck features the traditional three on three headstock, rosewood fretboard, and dot inlays.
The Fishman Isys Onboard Preamp System from Fishman is designed and built to offer maximum control, performance and quality in a small, unobtrusive format. The compact system features volume, bass and treble controls, a phase switch, built-in tuner with LED display, a low battery indicator, low profile control knobs and a unique pivot design for easy access to the battery compartment.
The Cort MR600F is valued at $450 US. To learn more about Cort Guitars, please visit www.cortguitars.com. Click here to enter now and don’t forget to share with your friends! Contest ends February 28, 2014.
James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett, Robert Trujillo and Lars Ulrich — these are the men of Metallica.
For 30 years, they have been the reigning kings of the heavy metal world, and deservedly so.
With such landmark albums as Master of Puppets, ...And Justice for All, Metallica and Death Magnetic, Metallica steadily evolved, progressing beyond the limits of the thrash-metal barrier without ever wavering in their goal to be the best heavy metal outfit on earth.
• Learn how Metallica coped with the accidental 1986 death of original bassist Cliff Burton.
• Read about the writing and recording of such legendary albums as Kill 'Em All, Master of Puppets, the Black Album and Load.
• Sit alongside guitarist Kirk Hammett as he reconnects with his guitar teacher, Joe Satriani.
• Go behind the scenes of the making of the group's revealing documentary film, Some Kind of Monster.
• The 100 Greatest Metallica Songs of All Time: Guitar World ranks them from first to worst.
It's all right here, in Metallica: 30 Years of the World's Greatest Heavy Metal Band - the myths, the memories, the triumphs, the tragedies of America's foremost heavy metal team.
Despite the diversity of George Harrison's many pursuits during his 58 years on earth — racing, gardening, Indian religion and culture, film making and anything remotely associated with ukeleles, Mel Brooks or Monty Python — he'll go down in history as one fourth of the Beatles.
But, notwithstanding his contributions to the most commercially successful and critically acclaimed act in the history of popular music, Harrison had a successful solo career that proved he was more than just a silent partner to John Lennon and Paul McCartney.
The guitarist released 10 studio albums between 1970 and 2002, an experimental electronic album, a soundtrack album and two live albums (including The Concert for Bangladesh), plus some non-album singles, including the sadly overlooked "Cheer Down" (1989).
Today, on the 71st anniversary of his birth, we're ranking his 10 serious studio albums. This list doesn't include his two "while the Beatles were still together" albums, 1968's Wonderwall Music and 1969's Electronic Sound. (Although, even if we were to include them, they'd wind up as No. 12 — Electronic Sound— and 11 — Wonderwall Music— anyway. So there!)
Below, you'll find a quick "Happy Birthday" video that's now playing over at GeorgeHarrison.com. Below that, check out the photo gallery to see how we've ranked his 10 albums.
Damian Fanelli is the online managing editor at Guitar World. Follow him on Twittah.
“For a while, it was pretty uncool to be me,” Jake E. Lee admits, speaking to Guitar World from a Las Vegas recording studio late one December evening.
It’s something of an unexpected statement, but what is even more surprising is the fact that Lee is saying anything at all.
Back in the Eighties and early Nineties, when he was slaying arena stages with Ozzy Osbourne and his own group, Badlands, the San Diego–raised ax man was a bona fide guitar god, with a beautifully liquid and limber playing style that, much like his serpentine stage moves, seemed to flow from him effortlessly.
And yet, save for a few low-key recordings, it’s been more than 20 years since most rock and metal fans have heard anything new from the guitarist.
Until now. Earlier this year, after decades of relative inactivity, the 56-year-old Lee announced the creation of a new band, Red Dragon Cartel. The group, which he formed with friend and Beggars & Thieves bassist Ronnie Mancuso (and which also features singer D.J. Smith and drummer Jonas Fairley), recently released its self-titled debut album.
It’s a hard-hitting, 10-song collection that features guest appearances from artists like Cheap Trick’s Robin Zander, In This Moment’s Maria Brink and former Iron Maiden vocalist Paul Di’Anno. It also highlights Lee’s inimitable guitar playing and, perhaps most importantly to him, showcases his talents as a composer. “I was never too comfortable being seen as just a shred guy,” he says. “I was always more interested in the song.”
And yet, Lee first came to national attention as the man tapped to fill Randy Rhoads’ incredibly large shoes in Ozzy Osbourne’s band. He appeared on 1983’s Bark at the Moon and 1986’s The Ultimate Sin, two albums that established him as one of the preeminent shredders of his day.
Then, following a sudden and unexpected dismissal from the Osbourne camp, he re-emerged in 1988 with Badlands, a heavy blues-rock combo that also featured former Black Sabbath singer Ray Gillen and future Kiss drummer Eric Singer, and emphasized Lee’s songwriting chops as much as his guitar. The group released two strong records, 1989’s Badlands and 1991’s Voodoo Highway, but soon disbanded amidst internal tensions.
With grunge and alternative rock in full bloom at the time, and Lee feeling that he was becoming pigeonholed as an Eighties-rock relic, the guitarist decided to head underground. “I figured, Okay, I’ve had a nice run. I’ll keep making music but I’ll just make it for myself,” he says. “I thought I’d bow out gracefully.”
Now, with Red Dragon Cartel, Jake E. Lee is ready to throw his hat back in the rock-guitar ring.
GUITAR WORLD: How did Red Dragon Cartel come together?
It was real casual. About two years ago, Ron [Mancuso] just approached me about doing something. I hadn’t done anything in a while, and I can’t say I really had any plans to. But he had been talking with [producer] Kevin Churko [Ozzy Osbourne, Five Finger Death Punch], who has a studio here in Vegas, and they both thought it’d be interesting to see if I was interested in playing. I had ideas that I’d saved up for the last 15 years or so, and Ron and I started to go through them. Since we didn’t have a band, per se, and it was just the two of us writing and recording, we figured we’d just do like a Slash or Santana thing and reach out to different guys to see if they’d want to sing on different songs.
You mentioned that some of the riffs on the new album date back more than a decade. Did you have a lot of material stockpiled?
Oh, yeah. I had hundreds and hundreds of little WAV files in a folder on my computer. Some of them were fully fleshed-out songs, and others were just, like, five-second riffs. The one with Maria [Brink], “Big Mouth,” that was probably one of the first things I ever recorded onto a computer, back in ’96 or ’97. The opening guitar thing you hear on the record, that’s the actual original track I recorded back then. So it’s 16, 17 years old. And the most recent thing I wrote was what became the first song on the album, “Deceived.” That was probably from a few months ago. All the others fell somewhere in between.
So you’ve been recording all these years, but without any explicit intention to release anything to the public. What was the goal?
I was just stockpiling ideas. I still had a desire to make music, but at a certain point, particularly in the mid Nineties, I didn’t see any interest from people. I’d kind of outlived my shelf life, especially since I was a part of—and I hate saying it—the hair-metal thing. So there weren’t a lot of interesting opportunities coming my way. It was always people from that one genre wanting me to make more music like that.
Or, because I also had Badlands, it was blues-rock guys that wanted to form blues-rock bands. But I’d already done those two things and I was looking to do something else, something more musically exotic, maybe. But I wasn’t cool anymore, and I was shot down a lot.
From what you’re saying, it sounds like if the musical climate had been different in the Nineties you would have stayed in the game.
I would have. If I had had an opportunity to make something fresh and exciting, I certainly would have stayed. But I didn’t want to just rehash Badlands or Ozzy.
During your years out of the spotlight, you went through periods where you didn’t pick up a guitar at all.
Yes. Especially in the mid Nineties, when I got heavily into computer stuff. I would tear computers apart, put them back together. I used to do that with cars, too. And because of that I started looking into music software and getting involved in that. So I was still writing music, but not necessarily on guitar. And there were long stretches where I didn’t play. At one point, I probably went a year without picking up my guitar. But I was always creating music in one form or another. It’s always been my first love in life. It’s still what I was doing all that time.
Because you haven’t released much music over the last few decades, you’re encased in amber for a lot of fans, so to speak. With this new record, they might be expecting to hear Jake E. Lee shredding like it’s 1986.
Well, that shred thing was me in Ozzy. I don’t think it was me so much in Badlands. I remember when we were recording that first Badlands record, our A&R guy would come into the studio, hear the songs and then say, “You need to do a guitar solo. You need to have your own version of ‘Eruption.’ ” And I would be like, “Um, no, I really don’t.”
The focus in Badlands was the music and the songs. I was hoping to shed that whole shredder thing at that time. But, that said, after all these years of having “disappeared,” every once in a while I’ll Google my name and I’ll see a lot of people that like to talk about some of the flashier things I used to do: the over-the-fretboard thumb thing, the whammy sounds from bending the neck. People seem to focus on those things a lot.
For better or worse, those tricks helped to establish you as a guitar hero to a certain segment of music fan. Is that something you were comfortable with?
Not completely. But Ozzy did place a lot of emphasis on it. He said, “Okay, when we do a concert, you’re gonna have to have a guitar solo.” And I hated the whole idea of it. So that’s when I came up with some of the flashier stuff. And really, toward the end of my solo spot I was just making a bunch of noise. Because I didn’t want to just stand there and shred in front of a bunch of people. If you watch some of the old live footage, half of my solo spot is me rolling around on the floor and making noises with my guitar.
Were those days with Ozzy happy times for you?
I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. It was very exciting. I went from being just another guitar player in L.A. to playing at the US Festival in front of hundreds of thousands of people and traveling the world. The only thing that would have made it better is if I’d been able to do it all with a group of friends, like everybody else I knew.
The guys in Mötley Crüe, in Ratt—they all went up the ladder together, whereas I felt like I was in a band with a bunch of old coots that had been doing it for a long time. [laughs] When I’d get excited about being in a new country—shit, when I’d get excited about just being in an airplane—they’d all be like, “Yeah, yeah…” I didn’t really have anybody to share it with. But it’s still a part of my life I’ll always look back on fondly.
You mention Ratt—a lot of people probably don’t know that you were a member of the band in their early days.
Yeah. They were originally from down in San Diego, when they were Mickey Ratt. After they moved to L.A. they shortened the name. I think they ran into some problems with Disney. Then I moved up to L.A. about a year later and ended up joining them.
Ratt quickly became one of the hot bands in the Sunset Strip scene.
Sure. At the time Mötley Crüe was still the big band in town. But we were starting to headline places like the Whisky [a Go Go], all the big clubs.
So why did you quit?
There were a bunch of reasons. I felt that [lead singer Stephen] Pearcy was taking on the rock star attitude a little bit more than I cared for. He’d be drunk onstage, he’d announce a song that we’d already played three songs earlier, that kind of thing. And then there was the fact that [late guitarist] Robbin [Crosby] got into the band. Because when we started it was just me on guitar.
And then Robbin moved up to L.A. maybe six months after I did, and he didn’t know anybody else, so he’d come to all the Ratt shows and hang out. Then he started campaigning hard to be in the band. Eventually I said, “Okay, okay. But just play what I tell you to play. I don’t want you to get in the way. I like the one-guitar thing.” And he said, “No problem.”
But once he was in, things changed completely, of course. It was, “So when do I get to solo?” And I was like, “Dude, I’ll tell you what. You can take a solo whenever you can do one better than me.” Now, that was kind of mean, but it upset me when he changed his whole tune. So, basically, Robbin was getting on my nerves because I didn’t want to be in a two-guitar band, and Pearcy was pissing me off because he was drunk all the time. At some point I just said, “Fuck it, I’m done.”
From there, you did a short stint with Rough Cutt and then hooked up with Ronnie James Dio. You played with him right as he was launching his solo career after leaving Black Sabbath.
I met Ronnie because his wife, Wendy Dio, was managing Rough Cutt. So Ronnie would come out to all the shows and eventually he asked me to play with him. It was an early formation of the Dio band. We would jam in his garage—me on guitar, Vinnie [Appice] on drums and Ronnie on bass. And I remember there was no P.A., and Ronnie would stand in the room and you could hear him sing, even without a mic. And I had a 100-watt Marshall going! But I think the only song I played with him that eventually made it to his first record was “Holy Diver.” I remember working on that a little bit.
After Dio, you went to Ozzy, where, even though there were a few guitarists that preceded you in his band—Bernie Torme, Brad Gillis, and even George Lynch for a minute—you were seen as the true successor to Randy Rhoads. Had you been a fan?
I thought Randy was great. Also, I loved Sabbath. I grew up on them. And when they fired Ozzy, me and everyone else thought that was it for him. So when he put out Blizzard of Ozz with Randy, I was blown away. I couldn’t believe it. He came back with a vengeance.
Did you find any of Randy’s guitar parts particularly challenging to play?
I can’t think of anything in particular that I found challenging. Then again, I was only given, like, a week to learn everything. So, really, it was all challenging! It was like one big homework assignment.
The details behind your dismissal from Ozzy’s band have always been murky. But generally speaking, it seems that the two of you didn’t click on a personal level.
We definitely were different types of people. And I’m sure that had a lot to do with it. I mean, I don’t know personally what Ozzy’s relationship with Randy was like, but from the outside it looked like they were brothers. Ozzy and I, we never connected on anything more than, “Here’s a song, let’s play it.” We never became friends. We never bonded. We worked well together, but I think maybe at some point Ozzy wanted to get a deeper connection with his guitar player. And he obviously got that with Zakk [Wylde], because they spent a lot of years together.
Were you surprised to be let go?
I was. I didn’t see it coming at all. In fact, it was my roommate, who was my tech at the time, who told me I was out of the band. He came back from the Rainbow one night and he said, “Everybody’s talking about how you just got fired.” So I called up Sharon [Osbourne], and I was like, “I just heard the weirdest rumor.” She said, “Oh, my god. It’s true, it’s true.” I went, “I’m fired?” And she said, “Yes.” My whole world got turned upside down.
That said, when you came back with Badlands, it seemed, at least from the outside, to be a more authentic expression of your musical personality than maybe anything you had done previously.
Well, it was certainly another side of my playing. And I wouldn’t say the stuff I did with Ozzy wasn’t me. I loved metal, I loved Black Sabbath. It was all heartfelt. But I did have certain boundaries there. And after two records with Ozzy, I admit I was starting to feel a little bound in. So Badlands presented me with a whole new musical palate to draw from. I’d always loved blues rock, and this was a chance to play in that style. Badlands wasn’t necessarily what I had always hoped to do, but it opened up a whole other side of my playing that I hadn’t been able to tap into with Ozzy.
Guitar-wise, in those days you were closely associated with the white Charvel that came to be known as Whitey. But in reality that guitar wasn’t a Charvel at all, correct?
That’s right. It was actually a mid-Seventies Strat. And originally it had a tobacco sunburst finish. Back in San Diego I worked at a guitar store, and I picked it out of a dozen Strats they had there. And the thing is, I originally intended to get one with a [whammy] bar. But when I went through all the guitars, the one that didn’t have the tremolo on it was head and shoulders above the rest as far as its tone. So I got that one. Otherwise, I probably would have played a bar through my whole career.
So how did a tobacco-burst Strat become a white Charvel?
By the time I moved up to L.A. my guitar was looking kind of trashed. And the tobacco sunburst thing didn’t really fit in with the Sunset Strip vibe. Looking back on it now, it sounds kind of silly, but the guitar didn’t look cool. Everybody else seemed to have bright, custom guitars. I kind of felt like the poor boy. So for my birthday, my roommate at the time, who worked as a painter in the Charvel shop, offered to take it in and paint it. And while it was in the shop, they also shaved down the headstock and slapped on a Charvel sticker. So that was it. But at least now I felt like I belonged! Even though I was really just an imposter. [laughs]
You also changed the pickups.
Yeah. I would always swap out my pickups in those days. Eventually I settled on a [Seymour Duncan] JB for the bridge humbucker, and the two single-coils were DiMarzio SDS-1s. And for amps, I had two old Marshall 100 watts—a Plexi and an aluminum face. In the studio, I would doubletrack my parts, with the Plexi on one side and the aluminum face on the other. And then I had my Boss OD-1 [OverDrive], the two-knob version. I would just turn down the distortion and crank the volume on it.
What gear did you use on Red Dragon Cartel?
The bulk of the rhythms were done with my ’68 SG Standard, and for leads I used either my ’63 SG Junior or my ’58 Les Paul TV Special. For amps, I had a new EVH [5150] head that belonged to Kevin [Churko] and a ’68 plexi 50-watt of Ron’s. On some things, like “Feeder,” I played this little eight-watt Lockard, which is a great-sounding amp. Super saturated. And then I also had a ’69 Laney Supergroup 100-watt—the classic Sabbath amp—which I used on “Deceived” and “War Machine.”
Are you planning to do extensive touring around Red Dragon Cartel?
We’re doing a few shows, and we have some festivals lined up in Europe, where they still like old guys like me. [laughs] Japan looks promising, too. But I don’t know about America. They’re not as fond of somebody my age. But if the demand is there, I’d be glad to do it.
So now that the album is out, is Jake E. Lee’s self-imposed exile, so to speak, over?
Who knows? I’m more of the thinking of, Okay, we made a record, let’s go out and see what the response is, see if anybody gives a shit, see if we can tour and take it from there. But I’ll say this: If it doesn’t work, I’m happy to fade back into the woodwork again. I’ve had a nice career and I’m not looking to relive my glory days or anything like that.
You don’t crave the spotlight.
Nah. Not at all. I do miss playing live, but I’m not one of those guys who needs to go out in front of people to see if they still love me. It’s not a priority of mine.
''While My Guitar Gently Weeps" is not only one of the best songs George Harrison wrote with the Beatles — it's also one of the greatest songs on the White Album.
Whether it was jealousy, ego or apathy, the other members of the band didn't seem to care too much for the tune when Harrison introduced it to them and attempted to record initial takes on August 16. After more work on the song on September 3 and 5, he decided he didn't like what he heard and scrapped the recording.
He and the Beatles then promptly started over again, nailing a new backing track in 28 takes. The initial live backing track featured Harrison on acoustic guitar and guide vocals, John Lennon on electric, Paul McCartney on piano and Ringo Starr on drums.
Harrison later overdubbed double-tracked lead vocals, and McCartney recorded backing vocals and a bass line with Lennon playing in unison on either a Fender Bass VI or electric guitar.
Harrison's masterstroke was inviting his friend Eric Clapton to overdub lead guitar, which was recorded on a single track with Harrison's organ accompaniment on September 6.
Clapton initially refused to participate, saying, "Nobody ever plays on the Beatles' records.""So what?" Harrison countered. "It's my song." Clapton finally agreed to play, but he wanted his part to sound "Beatle-y." Harrison's solution was to process the track containing Clapton's guitar part and the organ with Artificial Double Tracking, varying the speed to create a pitch-wobbling effect.
RECORDED: September 5 and 6, 1968; Abbey Road Studio Two
When rock music fans first heard Eddie Van Halen’s radical, innovative tapping technique at the end of “Eruption,” many mistakenly thought that they were hearing a synthesizer.
Six years later when Van Halen released their 1984 album, there was absolutely no doubt that a synthesizer was generating the majestic and mysterious sounds that they heard this time around. In fact, the first note of Eddie’s guitar wasn’t heard until two minutes and 10 seconds into the album’s first two songs.
With the album’s initial single “Jump,” Ed proved that he could play keyboards every bit as well as he could play guitar, but even more importantly he also showed the world that he could craft a pop song that was as good as, if not better than, anything else out there at the time.
Van Halen’s use of a synth on “Jump” ushered in a new era of appreciation for the instrument, which previously was associated mostly with new wave bands and electro pioneers like Kraftwerk, Gary Numan and Tangerine Dream.
Almost overnight, sales of synthesizers increased exponentially, similar to the revolutionary boost in guitar sales that Van Halen influenced after the first Van Halen album made its debut and fortuitously coinciding with the introduction of the first affordably priced polyphonic synths. Music store keyboard departments were soon filled with the sounds of aspiring musicians playing ham-fisted versions of “Jump,” much the same way that guitar departments were subjected to novices attempting to play “Stairway to Heaven.”
But there is much more to 1984 than “Jump,” which incidentally was Van Halen’s first and only song to reach the Number One spot on the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart. While three of the album’s nine songs are dominated by synths, the entire album features some of Eddie Van Halen’s hottest and most impressive guitar playing ever.
The pumping groove of “Panama” and the heavy-hitting “House of Pain” rocked as hard as anything the band had offered on its five previous albums, while “Top Jimmy” and “Drop Dead Legs” introduced entirely new territory that paved the way for the band’s next chapter.
Ed’s dazzling guitar solos even elevated the keyboard-dominated songs “Jump” and “I’ll Wait.” The showstoppers from a guitar perspective are “Hot for Teacher,” with its hot-rodded blues boogie shuffle, and “Girl Gone Bad,” featuring Van Halen’s signature harmonics, a dynamic progressive rock structure and a blazing solo filled with Allan Holdsworth–style legato runs.
The fact that every song on the album was as strong as anything else in Van Halen’s catalog up to that point in time is also impressive. In total, the album delivered four singles—“Jump,” “I’ll Wait,” “Panama” and “Hot for Teacher”—which all remain staples of classic-rock radio today. 1984 went on to become one of Van Halen’s all-time best-selling albums, matched only by their debut album, which also sold more than 10 million copies in the U.S. alone.
1984 is further notable for being one of the best-selling hard rock albums of all time, sharing lofty heights with company like AC/DC, Def Leppard, Guns N’ Roses, Led Zeppelin and Metallica.
But perhaps the most noteworthy attribute of 1984 is that it is likely the only Diamond-certified (sales of 10 million or more) album that was recorded entirely in a home studio. [Boston’s debut album is a close contender, but one of its songs was recorded in a pro studio.] Of course, the facility now known as 5150 Studios is not the ordinary home studio. From the very beginning, 5150 was a fully professional facility, starting off as a 16-track studio equipped with classic gear that, while it seemed outdated during its time of installation in 5150, was more than up to the task of capturing Ed’s ideas in a polished, finished state that was suitable for release.
1984 was the first album to come from 5150 Studios, and the studio has remained Van Halen’s home base for all of the albums the band has recorded since then. The studio was built during a particularly fertile period of creativity for Ed that was also marked by his desire to protect his creative vision and oversight of how Van Halen’s records should be made. Fortunately, engineer Donn Landee, who had recorded all of Van Halen’s previous five albums, saw eye to eye with Ed’s thinking and played an instrumental role both in building 5150 Studios and recording the 1984 album.
Landee even came up with the studio’s name, adopting 5150 from the California Welfare and Institutions Code for involuntary confinement of a mentally instable person deemed to be a danger to himself and/or others. Donn overheard the code number one night while listening to police broadcasts on a scanner, and Ed and Donn jokingly called themselves “5150s” after many around them said that they were crazy to build their own studio. Both agreed that 5150 was the perfect name for their new “asylum.”
Although Ed has never recorded a solo album and apparently never plans to, 1984 may very well be the closest thing to a Van Halen solo album that the world will ever get, as the record is overflowing with his creative input and inspiration. While 1984 is still a band record, distinguished particularly by Alex Van Halen’s powerful drumming and David Lee Roth’s street-poet lyrics and inimitable vocals, it also offers one of the most pure visions of Ed’s musical talents and breadth that he’s ever produced.
1984 may have been released 30 years ago, but Ed Van Halen still fondly remembers many fine details of the album’s creation. The fact that Ed was able to complete this achievement during a tumultuous period that ultimately led to the band’s initial lineup breaking apart is somewhat miraculous, eclipsed only by the album’s phenomenal success.
What inspired you to build your own studio at your home?
I used to have a back room in my house where I set up a little studio with a Tascam four-track recorder to demo songs. I really wanted to record demos that sounded more professional than what I was doing.
I used to spend so much time getting sounds and writing. I have a tape of me playing in the living room at five A.M., and you can hear Valerie [Bertinelli, Ed’s ex-wife] come in and yell that she’s heard enough of that song. That was another reason why I built the studio.
The bottom line is that I wanted more control. I was always butting heads with [producer] Ted Templeman about what makes a good record. My philosophy has always been that I would rather bomb with my own music than make it with other people’s music. Ted felt that if you re-do a proven hit, you’re already halfway there.
I didn’t want to be halfway there with someone else’s stuff. Diver Down was a turning point for me, because half of it was cover tunes. I was working on a great song with this Minimoog riff that ended up being used on “Dancing in the Street.”
It was going to be a completely different song. I envisioned it being more like a Peter Gabriel song instead of what it turned out to be, but when Ted heard it he decided it would be great for “Dancing in the Street.”
Fair Warning’s lack of commercial success prompted Diver Down. To me, Fair Warning is more true to what I am and what I believe Van Halen is. We’re a hard rock band, and we were an album band. We were lucky to enter the charts anywhere.
Ted and Warner Bros. wanted singles, but there were no singles on Fair Warning. The album wasn’t a commercial flop, but it wasn’t exactly a commercial success either, although for many guitarists and Van Halen fans, Fair Warning is a hot second between either Van Halen or 1984. The album was full of things that I wanted, from “Unchained” to silly things like “Sunday Afternoon in the Park.” I like odd things. I was not a pop guy, even though I have a good sense of how to write a pop song.
How did 5150 go from being just a demo studio to a fully equipped pro facility?
When we started work on 1984, I wanted to show Ted that we could make a great record without any cover tunes and do it our way. Donn and I proceeded to figure out how to build a recording studio. I did not initially set out to build a full-blown studio. I just wanted a better place to put my music together so I could show it to the guys. I never imagined that it would turn into what it did until we started building it.
Back then, zoning laws disallowed building a home studio on your property. I suggested that we submit plans for a racquetball court. When the city inspector came up here, he was looking at things and going, “Let’s see here. Two-foot-thick cinder blocks, concrete-filled, rebar-reinforced… Why so over the top for a racquetball court?” I told him, “Well, when we play, we play hard. We want to keep it quiet and not piss off the neighbors.” We got it approved.
Donn was involved with the design. I certainly didn’t know how to build a studio. It was all Donn’s magic. We built a main room and a separate control room. When we needed to find a console, Donn said that United Western Studios had a Bill Putnam–designed Universal Audio console that we could buy that he was familiar with.
We went to take a look at it, and it was this old, dilapidated piece of shit that looked like it was ready to go into the trash. Donn said, “Let’s buy it,” and I was going, “What the hell are you thinking?” He said that he could make it work, so we paid $6,000 for it and lugged it up here. He rewired the whole console himself using a punch-down tool. Donn used to work for the phone company, so he was an expert at wiring things.
We also needed a tape machine, so we bought a 3M 16-track. Slowly, the studio turned into a lot more than I originally envisioned. Everybody else was even more surprised than I was, especially Ted. Everybody thought I was just building a little demo room. Then Donn said, “No man! We’re going to make records up here!” When Ted and everybody else heard that, they weren’t happy.
It sounds like Donn wanted as much creative freedom as you did.
Oh, definitely. We had grown really close and had a common vision. Everybody was afraid that Donn and I were taking control. Well…yes! That’s exactly what we did, and the results proved that we weren’t idiots. When you’re making a record, you never know if the public is going to accept it, but we lucked out and succeeded at exactly what my goal was. I just didn’t want to do things the way Ted wanted us to do them. I’m not knocking Diver Down. It’s a good record, but it wasn’t the record I wanted to do at the time. 1984 was me showing Ted how you really make a Van Halen record.
You really were overflowing with creativity during the period between Diver Down and the middle of 1984. During that time you also recorded “Beat It” with Michael Jackson, the Star Fleet Project with Brian May, The Seduction of Gina and The Wild Life soundtracks, and you and Donn produced a single for Dweezil Zappa.
I had a lot of music lying around, because all I did was write. I remember, we were rehearsing for the Diver Down tour at Zoetrope Studios when Frank Zappa called me and asked if I would produce a single for his son Dweezil.
I also did the Brian May Star Fleet Project then and the session with Michael Jackson. Val asked me to write some music for a TV movie she was doing. Until you mentioned it, I had forgotten that I had recorded the Wild Life soundtrack back then. Now I remember that Donn wasn’t very happy, because he had to mix it on his own. I had to leave to go on the tour that we were doing with AC/DC in Europe that summer.
We also did the US Festival in the middle of recording the 1984 album, and before that we toured the U.S., Canada and South America and played about 120 shows. And I also had to build the studio during that period too! I don’t know how I pulled all of that off.
The US Festival proved that Van Halen were the biggest band in the world at the time.
What’s funny is that we made the Guinness Book of World Records for making $1.5 million for that one show. I remember hearing a DJ on the radio saying that we made so much money per second. What he didn’t realize is that we put every penny of that into the production. We didn’t make a fucking dime when it was all over.
You also spent about a month just preparing for that one show.
There was so much going on. We did that in the middle of making a record and I was doing all of this outside stuff. Then again, the Michael Jackson session only took 20 minutes, so it wasn’t like all of these things were taking that much time.
What is the first song you recorded at the studio?
That was “Jump.” Once Ted heard that song, he was full-hog in. He said, “That’s great! Let’s go to work.” When I first played “Jump” for the band, nobody wanted to have anything to do with it. Dave said that I was a guitar hero and I shouldn’t be playing keyboards. My response was if I want to play a tuba or Bavarian cheese whistle, I will do it.
As soon as Ted was onboard with “Jump” and said that it was a stone-cold hit, everyone started to like it more. But Ted really only cared about “Jump.” He didn’t care much about the rest of the record. He just wanted that one hit.
Alex was very supportive of everything we were doing. He wasn’t happy with his drum sound, especially on the first and second records. There was only one room at 5150 at the time, so we were very restricted. Recording drums there was a challenge. It really was a racquetball court, where one third of the space was the control room and the rest was the main room.
Because the space was so limited, Alex had to use a Simmons kit except for the snare. We all played at the same time. I had my old faithful Marshall head and bare wooden 4x12 cabinet facing off into a corner and Al was in the other corner. We set up some baffles to have isolation between my guitar and the drums. I would sit right in front of my brother and play without headphones. All I needed to hear was his drums. There were a lot of limitations.
You wouldn’t know it though when you listen to the end product. The sounds on that record are impressive.
I have to give all of the credit to Donn. His approach to everything was genius. I used the same Marshall amp to record the first six Van Halen albums, but my guitar sound on each album is different. The drum sounds are different too. That was all Donn. He is a man-child genius on the borderline of insanity. He would wear what looked like the same pants, shirt, socks and shoes every day of his life. Then you go to his house and see that he has a closet full of all the same type of clothes. He’s just like Einstein.
Alex and Donn got a lot closer on 1984 as well. “Drop Dead Legs” and “I’ll Wait” were more towards Al’s liking, as opposed to the first record. I remember when Al and I went to Warner Bros. to pick up the cassettes of the very first 25-song demo tape we did for them in 1977.
We popped it into the player in my van and expected to hear Led Zeppelin coming out, but we were kind of appalled by what we heard. It just didn’t sound the way we wanted it to sound. The first album sounds a little better, but it still wasn’t the way we imagined it should sound. It’s very unique sounding. I wouldn’t even know how to duplicate it, to tell you the truth.
Don’t ever venture into an amp or guitar forum. You’ll see page after page of arguments by people who still can’t figure it out either.
The overall guitar sound on the first record isn’t that difficult to duplicate, but the overall package of how the whole band sounded was not what Alex and I expected it would be. There is so much EMT plate reverb on it, which is something I never had really heard before. It still holds up today to a certain extent. It’s not in your face or all that heavy, but the songs are great. If you heard us live, we sounded different. We were much heavier, and that’s what Alex and I expected to hear on the record.
1984 not only sounds different than Van Halen’s previous records but each song also sounds different than each of the other songs on the album.
Someone played me his new record once, and every song on it was the same beat. Most of the songs were even in the same key. You could barely distinguish between the songs. He said, “Once you’ve got them, you don’t want to lose them.” That was so opposite of the way I think. I like to listen to records that go through changes and take you for a ride. I like things that come out of left field and keep your interest, where each song holds up individually and together they make a well-rounded collection. I prefer to make records that you listen to from beginning to end. I’m really not into recording just singles.
And then you recorded “Jump,” which became the band’s biggest single ever—even bigger than any of the cover songs Van Halen ever recorded.
“Jump” was the only Number One single we ever had. Outside of “Jump,” most of the other material was already written when we started to record the album.
For the first six records and tours, we all traveled together on the same bus, which Dave called the disco sub. All I did was write. You can hear the bus generator on all of the demo tapes I recorded.
I wrote “Jump” on a Sequential Circuits Prophet-10 in my bedroom while the studio was being built. Everytime I got the sound that I wanted on the right-hand split section of the keyboard, it would start smoking and pop a fuse. I got another one and the same thing happened. A guy I knew said I should try an Oberheim OB-Xa, so I bought one of those and got the sound I wanted.
I always carried a microcassette recorder with me. I recorded my idea for “Girl Gone Bad” by humming and whistling into it in the closet of a hotel room while Valerie was sleeping. I pretty much wrote the entire song in that state, and then when I got home I put it all together.
When the guys once asked me to write something with an AC/DC beat, that ended up being “Panama.” It really doesn’t sound that much like AC/DC, but that was my interpretation of it.
For “Top Jimmy” I had a melody in my head and I tuned the guitar to that melody. Steve Ripley had sent me one of his stereo guitars that had 90 million knobs and switches on it. That was too much for me to comprehend, so I asked him for a simpler version. He sent me one with a humbucker in the bridge and two single-coils at the middle and neck positions. It was just a prototype.
For some strange reason I picked up that guitar, tuned it to “Top Jimmy,” and that’s what I ended up using, because it sounded interesting. That rhythm lick I play after the harmonics sounds cool ping-ponging back and forth. You can’t really hear it unless you’re wearing headphones. It just fit the track.
“Drop Dead Legs” is one of the most unique songs on the album.
That was inspired by AC/DC’s “Back in Black.” I was grooving on that beat, although I think that “Drop Dead Legs” is slower. Whatever I listen to somehow is filtered through me and comes out differently. “Drop Dead Legs” is almost a jazz version of “Back in Black.” The descending progression is similar, but I put a lot more notes in there.
The solos almost always go into a different place than the rest of the song. Sometimes you even change keys, like on “Jump,” “Top Jimmy” and “Panama.”
I view solos as a song within a song. From day one that is just the way that I write things. I always start with some intro or theme and establish a riff, then after the solo there’s some kind of breakdown section. That’s there in almost every song, or else it returns to the intro.
What inspired you to record actual engine growls from your Lamborghini on “Panama”?
Having the studio here gave Donn and I the luxury and freedom to do all kinds of things. They thought we were nuts to pull up my Lamborghini to the studio and mic it. We drove it around the city, and I revved the engine up to 80,000 rpm just to get the right sound.
We’ve done all kinds of silly things up here. One time a septic tank needed to be removed. Donn lowered a mic into it, and we threw an Electrolux vacuum in there. We called it “Stereo Septic.” I have a tape of it around here somewhere, although I’ve never used it on anything. It’s fucking hilarious.
I basically lived in the studio back then. If Valerie ever needed to find me, she just had to look in the studio, because I was always there. Even when we weren’t recording music for the band, Donn and I would be in there every day, putzing around, making noise, coming up with riffs, playing piano, or doing whatever.
It was a bummer when we stopped working together. Donn just totally left the music business. I went to his house once and asked him to reconsider. He said, “Nah. I probably wouldn’t even remember how to do it.” I said, “That’s bullshit. Everything we did we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing anyway!” We were just experimenting and having fun all the time.
It sounds like everyone was having fun on “Hot for Teacher.”
I’m a shuffle guy. I love fast shuffles. I think that stems from my dad’s big-band days. Every Van Halen record has a song like that—“I’m the One,” “Sinner’s Swing.” It was an extension of that—more of me! I distinctly remember sitting in front of Al on a wooden stool and playing that part during my solo where it climbs. Well, I can’t count, so Al needs to follow me. I’d sit right in front of him, and then he’d look at me like, “Now!”
Al’s drums on the intro sound like a dragster warming up before a race.
When he started putzing around with that, we were going, “Holy shit!” It really does sound like a hot rod or dragster. You can only pull that off with Simmons drums because they sound so unique. Regular drums don’t sound the same.
There’s something to be said about the years that we used Simmons. The only bad part was how those drums affected Al’s wrists. When you hit those things there’s no bounce or give. It’s like pounding concrete, and thanks to the amounts of Schlitz malt liquor we drank, we hit everything twice as hard. Al would hit them with sticks that were like baseball bats.
That first drum fill on “I’ll Wait” right before the vocals was an accident. It’s one of my favorite parts of the song. Al hit the hi-hat instead of the cymbal. The only way we could record in that room was to have Al play just the drums and then later overdub the cymbals. He just forgot to hit the cymbal. It reminds me of Ginger Baker on “White Room” where Ginger does a similar thing on the first verse.
You've said that “I’ll Wait” got the most resistance from others.
Ted hated that song. When I played it for him, he kept humming “Hold Your Head Up” by Argent just to piss me off. It doesn’t sound anything like that.
“House of Pain” originally dates back to the demos you recorded with Gene Simmons and the Warner Bros. demos, but the version on 1984 is different. How did it finally make the cut six albums later?
The only thing that’s the same is the main riff. The intro and verses are different, I guess because nobody really liked it the way that it originally was.
You also mixed the album at 5150. Was that a challenge?
The funniest story about the whole record was near the end, when Donn and I were mixing it. Ted seemed to think that we were already done, and we had a deadline to meet.
The original plan was to release the album on New Year’s Eve of 1984, but Donn and I weren’t happy with everything on it. Donn and I would be in there mixing and the phone would ring. It would be Ted at the front gate to my house, wanting to come in.
To this day, I don’t think that Ted knows what actually went on. My whole driveway is like a big circle. So Donn would grab the master tapes, put them in his car, go out the back gate, and wait as Ted was coming through the front gate because Ted wanted the tapes. He’d ask where Donn and the tapes were, and I’d say that I had no idea.
This went on for about two weeks. Little did he know that Donn was sitting outside the back gate, waiting for him to leave. We had walkie-talkies and I would tell Donn when Ted was leaving. Then Donn would drive down the hill and come back in through the front gate, and Ted never saw him as he was going out behind him. It was a circus!
Nobody was happy with Donn and me. They thought we were crazy and out of our minds. Ted thought that Donn had lost it and was going to threaten to burn the tapes. That was all BS. We just wanted an extra week to make sure that we were happy with everything. Ted just didn’t see eye to eye with the way I looked at things. That was my whole premise for building the studio. I wanted to make a complete record from end to end, not just one hit. As soon as “Jump” was done, he looked at the rest of the album as filler. It wasn’t that to me. It’s a good record because it was different.
It’s ironic that the only thing that kept 1984 out of the Number One spot on the Billboard 200 albums chart was Michael Jackson’s Thriller, which you also played on.
We had the Number One single, but he had the Number One album. Of course everyone blamed me. They said, “If you hadn’t played on ‘Beat It’ that album wouldn’t be Number One.” We’ll never really know who helped who more. I do know that when I played on his record, it helped expose Van Halen to a different audience.
Some of the best-selling rock albums of all time never made it to Number One on the charts, like AC/DC’s Back in Black, Led Zeppelin IV and Boston’s debut album. Peak chart positions aren’t always an indicator of success.
We were projected to go to Number One the week when Michael Jackson was filming that Pepsi commercial and burned his hair [on January 27, 1984]. Then that happened. Everyone was going, “Oh, Michael burned his hair! We’d better go buy his record.”
A similar thing happened with [Van Halen’s 2012 album] A Different Kind of Truth. It was supposed to debut at Number One, but it was released the same week as the Grammys when Adele won a bunch of awards, which suddenly spiked her album’s sales.
I knew that was going to happen. We sold close to 200,000 records, which would have made the album number one almost any other week of the year. But being number one doesn’t really mean jack fuck all. We sold twice as many records as other records that year that landed in the Number One position. 1984 and Van Halen are among a very small group of albums that have won RIAA diamond certification for selling more than 10 million copies. Neither one of those records ever went to Number One.
The 1984 tour was also one of the band’s biggest tours ever.
Our live show for the 1984 tour just could not get any bigger, but it was so over the top that we never made any money from it. We had 18 trucks hauling the stage and equipment. That was unheard of. The standard lighting rig had 500 to 700 lights, and we had over 2,000. We could never have topped that. We had the banners with the Western Exterminator guy on them [an illustrated character with a top hat, sunglasses and a large hammer, used in the company’s marketing]. We filled the entire place with equipment and lights. Great memories.
Was the Frankenstein still your main guitar in the studio on that album?
I had actually retired the Frankenstein by then. I’m pretty sure I used the Kramer 5150 guitar the most on that album—“Panama,” “Girl Gone Bad,” “House of Pain,” the solos on “Jump” and “I’ll Wait.”
You used a ’58 Gibson Flying V on several songs as well, particularly “Hot for Teacher” and “Drop Dead Legs.”
You are very right. The ride out lick that I play on the last minute and a half of “Drop Dead Legs” came afterward. We had already finished recording the song, and then I came up with that part, which I thought would sound great at the end of the song. I’m not sure how Donn put it together, but we recorded it separately and added it to end of the song, even though it sounds like it was recorded at the same time. That ride out solo was very much inspired by Allan Holdsworth. I was playing whatever I wanted like jazz—a bunch of wrong notes here and there—but it seemed to work.
Your solos on the entire record are some of your most innovative playing ever. You really were going outside of your comfort zone and playing new, unusual lines, especially on your solo to “Girl Gone Bad.”
Allan really inspired me. There weren’t any other guitarists out there who were blowing my mind at the time other than him. I don’t think anyone can copy what he does. He can do with one hand what I need two to do. How he does it is beyond me. But sometimes his playing is so out there that people don’t get it.
I got Allan a record deal with Warner Bros., and I was supposed to co-produce the album with him, but he wouldn’t wait two or three weeks for me to get back from tour in South America, so he did it himself. I really wish that he would have waited. I believe I could have helped him a lot.
He had this one riff on his demos that I heard completely different than how it ended up on his record. That lick could have been a monstrous Zeppelin-style riff, but instead it turned into a lounge song. I feel bad for Allan because the album could have really been something good for him. I did everything I could to help him. It wasn’t his only shot, but it was a hell of a shot. If he only would have waited a few weeks, things could have turned out very different.
What is creating the chorus-like sound on the intro to “Drop Dead Legs”?
I really don’t remember. That was all Donn, although Donn never added any flanging or phasing to my guitar. I think I may have used a little MXR Phase 90 on that. I played through the Eventide Harmonizer all the time back then, but I used it mostly to split my guitar signal so it came out of both sides. Back then I didn’t play in the control room—I was always out in the main room—so I never really knew what Donn was doing while I was recording tracks. I wouldn’t hear it until we were done playing, and I usually liked what I heard.
Your tone got drier on each successive album. On 1984, I really only hear reverb on “House of Pain,” “Panama” and parts of “Girl Gone Bad.”
That came from my dislike of that EMT plate reverb that our first album is bathed in. It had its time and place, but it strikes a bad nerve with my brother and me.
You didn’t get caught up in all of the production gimmicks that were prevalent during that period in the Eighties. As a result 1984 doesn’t sound dated like most other albums that came out back then.
I’ve never been in touch with what is going on in the world because I rarely ever listen to anything else. I think that the record did well because it was ahead of its time and it was simply different. It was even different for Van Halen, particularly because it had two keyboard songs on it. Having built 5150, it was a very special time in my life, and that shows in the music.
Fender has created a new video in celebration of the Stratocaster's 60th anniversary.
The three-and-a-half-minute clip, which you can check out below, features appearances by — and comments from — the likes of Jeff Beck, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Stephen Stills, Jim Root, Eric Clapton, John Mayer, Raphael Saadiq, Nile Rodgers, Buddy Guy, Don Felder, Yngwie Malmsteen, Buddy Guy, Billy Corgan, Eric Johnson and a whole lot more.
For more information about the Strat and some of the company's 2014 anniversary models, visit fender.com.
This video is bonus content related to the April 2014 issue of Guitar World. For the full range of interviews, features, tabs and more, pick up the new issue on newsstands now or at our online store.
Be sure to check out my brand-new website, andyaledort.com, which has all of the latest gig info, gear, lesson (private and Skype), session availability and more!
Open tunings have been exploited for use with slide guitar since the earliest days of Delta blues.
The most commonly used open tunings for slide are E, D, G and A. There are, of course, others that are utilized, with many distinctive variations, depending on the musician and style of music.
Joni Mitchell has employed a wide variety of unusual tunings in her songs, as have Stephen Stills and Ry Cooder and many other contemporary musicians operating primarily in styles of music outside of blues, such as pop, rock and folk.
This edition of In Deep will focus on open G tuning and how it is used in blues slide-guitar playing.
This video is bonus content related to the April 2014 issue of Guitar World. For the full range of interviews, features, tabs and more, pick up the new issue on newsstands now or at our online store.
In my last column, I went over the differences and similarities between the major scale, also known as the Ionian mode, and another fundamental major mode, Lydian. This month, I’d like to take the same approach to comparing two fundamental minor modes: Aeolian, also known as the natural minor scale, and Dorian.
In our examination of Ionian versus Lydian, I pointed out the notes within each mode that I feel give it its characteristic quality, such as the major third and major seventh in Ionian, and the augmented, or “sharp-ed,” fourth (s4) in Lydian.
In composing songs, riffs or solos, I like to emphasize these characteristic tones so that the listener gets a clear picture, harmonically speaking, of the music they’re hearing. Let’s now take a look at what I consider to be the characteristic tones of Aeolian and Dorian.
The MR600F is a dreadnought body with a Venetian cutaway for unhindered playability up and down the fretboard. With mahogany back and sides, the body is topped with a solid spruce top and advanced scalloped X bracing for overall performance. The 25.3” mahogany neck features the traditional three on three headstock, rosewood fretboard, and dot inlays. 
