Matt Palmer’s main guitar was
built in 2005 by luthier Kolya
Panhuyzen. “There is a
ton of
volume, but it can also sound
really soft and delicate.”
Matt Palmer isn’t your
typical classical guitar
hero. His blistering technique
isn’t fueled by Fernando Sor and
Heitor Villa-Lobos arpeggio
studies, and his musicality wasn’t
originally inspired by lyrical Bach
passages. Palmer in essence turbocharged
the vehicle of classical-guitar
composition with a DIY
ethic inspired by the visceral
sounds and rule-breaking spirit
of early metal shredders. Unlike
most aspiring classical guitarists,
who often find inspiration
in the works of Andrés Segovia
and Julian Bream, Palmer spent
his formative years nurturing his
musical yearnings with generous
helpings of Yngwie Malmsteen
and Marty Friedman.
“I first got a guitar when I
was about 10 years old,” Palmer
recalls. “This was when Guns
N’ Roses exploded on the scene,
so I was really inspired by Slash.
The image of a cool guy who
played the guitar really spoke to
me.” After poring over Slash’s
whisky-soaked pentatonic licks,
he moved on to the neoclassical
shred deities of the period,
foreshadowing a greater stylistic
turn later in life.
“A short time after I started
playing guitar, I got into Randy
Rhoads—he was one of my
big influences all through
high school,” says Palmer. “I
played everything off the [Ozzy
Osbourne]
Tribute album, and
from there I progressed into
really heavy stuff.” By that, he
means the thrashing riffs of
Slayer’s Kerry King and Jeff
Hanneman, as well as Pantera’s
Dimebag Darrell.
Although Palmer’s parents
were supportive of his burgeoning
6-string interests, his
mother gave him a gift she
hoped would steer him in a different
direction. “When I was
about 16, my mom bought
me a [classical-guitar veteran]
Christopher Parkening CD,”
Palmer remembers. “I threw it
in my closet and forgot about
it. I think she just got it for me
so I would try something a little
‘nicer’—and that wasn’t as loud.”
Though Palmer dismissed
the gift at the time, the whole
incident foreshadowed a sea
change that would happen just
a few short years later. During
his freshman year of college, he
attended some classical guitar
concerts—including by his
future instructor Bill Yelverton—
that blew him away in much
the same way Slash had in his
youth. And, just like that, Palmer
switched musical paths decided
to focus on classical guitar.
“When I first started I
thought, ‘I’ll play the classical
stuff because I like it, but I’m
going to use all this musical
training to make myself a better
electric guitarist’—y’know,
get the theory background so I
could write great heavy metal
guitar solos.”
When Palmer decided to
record his debut album,
Un
tiempo fue Italíca famosa (which is
named after the Joaquin Rodrigo
composition it begins with),
he took matters into his own
hands and learned how to record
himself. The result is a snapshot
of a young artist about to make
a real dent in the stuffy world
of classical guitar. The pieces
range from bursts of nylon-string
virtuosity in the title track to
the modern thunder of Czech
composer Štêpán Rak’s “Sonata
Mongoliana.” We caught up with
Palmer to discuss his musical
metamorphosis, how he gets distortion
out of a nylon-string, and
why he uses three types of strings
on a single instrument.
Which shredders first influenced
you to pick up the
guitar?
After going through the Randy
Rhoads stuff, Yngwie was really
big for me. From there, I started
to hear about other guys like
Jason Becker, Marty Friedman,
Chris Impellitteri, and Paul
Gilbert. I was into anything and
everything shredding and fast—
like Slayer and Pantera. Today,
I’m primarily a classical player,
even though I think the term
“classical guitarist” isn’t so great.
Why?
I think when most people hear
“classical guitarist” there can be
a negative connotation—like it’s
not cool or it’s old and dated.
When I was a teenager, I would
have never considered listening
to classical guitar. People might
think it’s weird that I moved
from metal and neoclassical
shred to classical guitar, but I
think it’s a natural progression.
How so?
If you look at it from a purely
technical point of view, players
from both genres are at the
height of what they can do on
their instrument. Both have
spent countless hours in the
practice room to get better.
Musically speaking, both genres
contain very dramatic and moving
music.
