
Inspired by a 1974 B.C. Rich Seagull, Tom Hamilton's custom Becker guitar features B.C. Rich electronics designed
by Neal Moser.
The Philly-based guitarist approached his band’s fourth album as a workshop for improvisational songwriting and unconventional sounds.
In 1996, when he was 17, Tom Hamilton scraped together $800 from working part-time at a bowling alley to buy a guitar he'd been coveting—a 1974 B.C. Rich Seagull, with its strange, curvy design. “I worked really hard to get that guitar, and it was the best thing I had ever played," Hamilton says. “But when I was 18 or 19, somebody stole it, and I was heartbroken."
For years Hamilton searched for a replacement Seagull, but whenever another example of this rare guitar surfaced, it was well out of his price range. Then, a couple of years ago, Becker Guitars, a boutique maker in Massachusetts, offered to make Hamilton a guitar. He agreed, providing he'd be able to specify the electronics. Remembering the functionality of the stock components on his old Seagull, Hamilton decided he wanted the same setup for his Becker. On a whim, he tracked down the B.C. Rich Seagull's designer.
“It turns out Neal Moser is retired now, living in Arizona," says Hamilton. “And when I asked him if he could tell me about the original electronics, he was like, 'Hey dude, I still have all the original parts. I can make you that exact loom.'" He also opted for a pair of 1972 Guild humbuckers for his Becker, as well as a 1960s generic single-coil pickup.
Hamilton now uses the Becker almost exclusively as the frontman of American Babies. This Philadelphia band of rotating players serves as a workshop for his songs, which reference Americana, psychedelic rock, electronic textures, and jam-band terrain in equal portions—music that places a premium on songcraft and arrangements over instrumental virtuosity.
But Hamilton is no slouch on the guitar. As a teenager he learned to play every great Eddie Van Halen and Randy Rhoads track with note-perfect accuracy, yet was equally steeped in the blues stylings of Stevie Ray Vaughan and the extended improvisations of players like Jerry Garcia and Duane Allman.
Non-stop gigging since his teen years has also made Hamilton a formidable axeman. His first group out of high school, Brothers Past—an electronica-informed jam band that uses odd time signatures and modulations to excellent effect—made waves at festivals like Bonnaroo and SXSW and only recently went on hiatus. Hamilton has also maintained his improv chops as a member of Joe Russo's Almost Dead—as the name suggests, a Grateful Dead cover band—and he's also worked with Dead alumni Phil Lesh, Bill Kreutzmann, and Bob Weir.
On American Babies' fourth studio album, An Epic Battle Between Light and Dark, Hamilton pushes himself as a lyricist and stretches out as an arranger, delving into vintage country-and-western with pedal steel (“Fever Dreams"), and using that same instrument elsewhere in a synth-like way (“Synth Driver").
Speaking from his home in Philadelphia, Hamilton told us how he tackled dark subject matter as the inspiration for the record, and how in pursuit of original tones, he covertly drilled some holes in the studio's walls.
You grew up in a musical household in Philadelphia. What was that like?
My dad was a serviceable bass player and serviceable drummer and an okay guitarist. He had a local band and stuff like that, but never pushed us to play. My older brother played drums and we had instruments around the house, so I started playing drums pretty seriously when I was like 5. My dad turned me on to the blues when I was pretty young—Stevie Ray and all that stuff—and when Stevie died it was a pretty big thing in my household. My father sat us down to watch Austin City Limits, and when I saw Stevie, I said, “Man, that's it—I'm in." And from there, I picked up my dad's guitar and started working on it.
The American Babies fourth album An Epic Battle Between Light and Dark was released on March 18, 2016.
Talk about the role that depression played in the making of An Epic Battle Between Light and Dark.
When we started making the record, me and my partner in the studio—Pete Tramo, who's an old friend of mine—would just go into the studio every day and not even play. We just sat around and talked, and then tried to figure out what was on my mind and what I wanted to say.
I had a pretty rough relationship with somebody who had severe depression that manifested itself into a Karen Carpenter-level eating disorder. And it was a pretty intense thing to be there with. We had to put her in a hospital and all sorts of stuff. Then one day I came back from a tour and she had disappeared. In hindsight she was just doing me the favor of not having to deal with all that stuff, but at the time it didn't make it any easier.
I've dealt with depression on and off my whole life and so has Pete. But it was somebody else's struggle with it that really kind of fucked me up. And so, I was processing that. That was something that we would talk a lot about—and shit that happened to us when we were younger. And then Robin Williams passed away in August of '14, and, man, it was kind of like one swift kick to the balls because he was sort of a hero to me. I don't really look to musicians that much for inspiration. Everyone is just stealing each other's ideas and it's not that fun for me.
How was Robin Williams a benchmark, and how did it impact the making of this record?
I often look to comedians and actors who I think are tasteful for musical inspiration. And a guy like Robin Williams was right up my alley, man. The way he improvised, it was like fuckin' Miles Davis, man. He was the Miles of comedy—it was something I really admired. Ever since I was a kid, I would try to model myself after that. You know: not repeating yourself, going with fresh ideas and holding yourself to a higher standard. And so, I decided to write about the real and raw things I was experiencing, and not do a record about chicks or something similar that's been done to death.
Can you talk about how another comedian or actor has influenced your work?
Sure—I take a lot from Bruce Lee. He invented his own form of martial arts called Jeet Kune Do. It doesn't actually have a form; it takes the shape of whatever the moment is. That's kind of how American Babies is—we just follow the sounds we're hearing in the moment, and where the music wants to go.
Speaking of improvisation, did that factor into the record at all, or is that more something you do with your side projects?
It's absolutely on the record—in the writing of the songs and in the arranging of the tracks. I played guitar, drums, bass, and piano on the record, and so I would just go in and do 30 takes over something and every take was a completely different idea, really exploring in the moment every possibility of what could go on within a song or within a chorus, within a measure. And that's where I start doing the math and piecing it together.
To create unique effects on American Babies' An Epic Battle Between Light and Dark, Hamilton and company captured cavernous reverberations within music venues housed in their Philadelphia studio's building. Photo by Andrew Blackstein
I have a history of improvising a lot in a live setting, and I think that's what makes it possible for me to do that stuff in the studio. It's having an improvisatory approach to everything, making every note count. And it really helps when you go in and say, “Okay, what can we do to make this song different, to make this song special, make the song not just another song that anyone could have written?"
Do you have any training in improvisation, or is it more just an intuitive thing?
I guess it would just be intuitive, but I do have informal training—I've been on the road for about 15 years at this pointand, as I mentioned earlier, I have an older brother, and he brought me out into playing with him in little bars and stuff when I was about 12. We grew up on the Allman Brothers and the Grateful Dead and stuff like that—bands that improvise. With that foundation, it's only natural that I gravitate towards improvisation.
“Oh Darling, My Darling" has a killer guitar solo. How did you approach it?
That entire ending would be a prime example of the improvising thing. For that whole bit, I had just three chords, and we looped them and spent a few days working over them. I just went over it and improvised and improvised [the accompaniment] until eventually we whittled it down to the backing track that you hear on the album, a sludgy Alice in Chains-like texture, with some thick, nasty guitars. After we were done with it, we sat on it for a moment and went, “Okay, what happens next? Do we put words over this or a vocal melody or something?" And it just kind of hit me: Let's go [David] Gilmour on it, a straight clean solo over all this stuff, and see what that does.
How did you get those thick, nasty sounds?
That was just my Becker guitar through a [TC Electronic] Flashback delay and into a Super Reverb turned to 10. As soon as I hit that first opening lick on it, Pete turned around and we both had that knowing look. My 17-year-old self was like, “Aren't you glad you learned all those Pink Floyd solos?
Are there any solos in particular that you dissected when you were a teenager?
There are so many. When I was a kid, learning to play guitar in the late '80s and early '90s, Van Halen was a huge thing and so was Randy Rhoads. I knew absolutely every note on most of their records, which is a little outside of the box from what I do now. Those were the things I really dissected. And Stevie Ray—the whole The Sky Is Crying record. That's the good stuff.
Your recent music seems pretty removed from those guitar-god influences. What are some less obvious things you've learned from them?
The variety of my work would be the biggest thing. I loved Van Halen and Ozzy when I was a kid, but their music doesn't resonate as much now. If “Panama" comes on the radio when I'm driving, I'm gonna turn it up, but it's not like I'm sitting in my room listening to fucking “Mr. Crowley." As I was growing out of these bands, I realized they were very one-dimensional, David Lee Roth singing about his dick over amazing guitar work. At a certain point it was like, “Okay, this shit's really cool, but there's certainly a shelf life and there needs to be more to it." I started reconnecting with players like Jerry Garcia and Duane Allman—players who could hit just one note and make your entire existence mean something different. So I guess the happy collateral damage of my Van Halen phase was that it helped me find something deeper in terms of my own writing and playing.
You're a multi-instrumentalist. On “Fever Dreams" is that you playing the pedal steel?
That's not me playing pedal steel. I certainly wish it was! That's Isaac Stanford. He's from Philadelphia and is a schoolteacher by day and a beast of a steel player by night. I tell him,“Dude, if you moved to Nashville, you would immediately be like the number two guy in town." Fortunately for me, he's still here in Philadelphia.
How did you get the ethereal sounds at the onset of “Synth Driver"?
The whole beginning is pedal steel as well. I told Isaac, “Look, I want you to just improvise and think about what the song is and what the song means, and in free time just do whatever you want." I must have recorded four passes of roughly 30 seconds of music. And then we took it from there. We reamped the shit out of it—through the Flashback and a Strymon BigSky we used a lot for reverbs and stuff—to get that dreamy and shimmery texture that sounds like a synthesizer but is actually a pedal steel.
Speaking of reamping, can you talk a bit about the recording process you used on the record?
Sure. My studio is in downtown Philly, in the basement of a huge apartment building. There are three different rooms: Two of them are music venues and the third is a studio with a long, thin live room.
Tom Hamilton's Gear
GuitarsCustom Becker with B.C. Rich electronics
Fender Telecaster Thinline reissue
Amps
Mid-1960s Fender Deluxe Reverb
1965 Fender Super Reverb
1971 Fender Princeton Reverb
Vox AC15 (handwired)
Vox AC30 (handwired)
Effects
DigiTech Whammy
Electro-Harmonix Micro Synth
Pro Co RAT
TC Electronic Flashback Delay
Strings and Picks
Ernie Ball Power Slinky (.011–.048)
Dunlop Tortex Standard 1.14 mm
We had some great gear in there that we know how to use, since that's the secret to getting a great recording. We had Voxes—an AC15 and an AC30—and an old Fender Deluxe. For a lot of the bass we used one of those old Ampeg flip-tops from the '60s. We would crank it up, put it in the middle of the room and set up a [Neumann] U 47 about four feet back for a nice, simple bass tone.
With the studio being on the same floor as the venues, for reamping we ran lines into one of the venues—a huge, cavernous space with 20- to 30-foot ceilings and a PA system. Unbeknownst to the landlord, we drilled holes through the wall and snaked the lines through. We'd would run things into the PA system and just crank it up.
What's one of the more novel recording techniques you used?
There's a song on the album called “What Does It Mean to Be," and on the drum groove that opens the tune, there's all sorts of delay, a washed-out delay thing. We fed the drums into a [Boss] Space Echo, in turn feeding into two Fender Twins that were cranked in the venue.
And so it was a playground. Whenever one of the venues was empty, we would use it and do something fun. A lot of the sounds on the record are real reverbs and real stairways and huge empty rooms and shit like that.
That's awesome.
Yeah, it's fun to make tones that are truly your own. I could buy a software bundle and easily make sounds from plug-ins, but there are millions of other assholes using the same sounds. Why would I want that, you know? I don't want to walk outside and see everyone wearing the same clothing.
Describe how the Philadelphia music scene has changed in the last decade and what it's like to be kind of at the epicenter of it?
It's funny, when I was first playing in clubs in the mid '90s, most of the things going on in Philadelphia were cover bands. Nobody gave a shit about original music. And then Roots hit pretty big—they won a Grammy in 2000. And from my perspective, that's when things started to change in the city as far as the focus on original music.
You've got the neo soul thing that really came out of Philadelphia. Erykah Badu made records here, and you've got Jill Scott, Musiq Soulchild, and all that stuff. That definitely kept the momentum going. And then, the indie-rock thing started to hit and the jam-band thing was, and still is, pretty big in this town. It just kind of snowballed from there. You've got Dr. Dog—they're from Philadelphia—and the War on Drugs and Kurt Vile are from here, too. These people are all very relevant artists that are making great records and really doing interesting work, especially on the guitar. Kurt's a great guitar player, and we produced his first demo in 2001 when we were kids.
YouTube It
Observe Tom Hamilton's improvisational chops as he stretches out with his band American Babies in this full set, filmed late last year in Pennsylvania at the Ardmore Music Hall.
And how does it feel to be a part of it all?
Oh, it's great, man. The bands I mentioned—Kurt and Dr. Dog, jam bands like Disco Biscuits—these people work so hard. I lived in Brooklyn for four years and for some reason there's a lot of entitlement there, like they deserve success just because they pay ridiculous rent or something.It's nice here, man, because everyone works their dicks off for it. And it means something to me that there are all these kindred souls when it comes to work ethic, really honing your craft and working for every check. We all have to really work for it and that's also kind of the feel of the new record when it comes to happiness. It's like, hey, things aren't easy. It's not all waves on a beach, man. But if you work hard at it, you can find happiness—the stuff that makes all the bullshit worth it.
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This legendary vintage rack unit will inspire you to think about effects with a new perspective.
When guitarists think of effects, we usually jump straight to stompboxes—they’re part of the culture! And besides, footswitches have real benefits when your hands are otherwise occupied. But real-time toggling isn’t always important. In the recording studio, where we’re often crafting sounds for each section of a song individually, there’s little reason to avoid rack gear and its possibilities. Enter the iconic Eventide H3000 (and its massive creative potential).
When it debuted in 1987, the H3000 was marketed as an “intelligent pitch-changer” that could generate stereo harmonies in a user-specified key. This was heady stuff in the ’80s! But while diatonic harmonizing grabbed the headlines, subtler uses of this pitch-shifter cemented its legacy. Patch 231 MICROPITCHSHIFT, for example, is a big reason the H3000 persists in racks everywhere. It’s essentially a pair of very short, single-repeat delays: The left side is pitched slightly up while the right side is pitched slightly down (default is ±9 cents). The resulting tripling/thickening effect has long been a mix-engineer staple for pop vocals, and it’s also my first call when I want a stereo chorus for guitar.
The second-gen H3000S, introduced the following year, cemented the device’s guitar bona fides. Early-adopter Steve Vai was such a proponent of the first edition that Eventide asked him to contribute 48 signature sounds for the new model (patches 700-747). Still-later revisions like the H3000B and H3000D/SE added even more functionality, but these days it’s not too important which model you have. Comprehensive EPROM chips containing every patch from all generations of H3000 (plus the later H3500) are readily available for a modest cost, and are a fairly straightforward install.
In addition to pitch-shifting, there are excellent modulation effects and reverbs (like patch 211 CANYON), plus presets inspired by other classic Eventide boxes, like the patch 513 INSTANT PHASER. A comprehensive accounting of the H3000’s capabilities would be tedious, but suffice to say that even the stock presets get deliciously far afield. There are pitch-shifting reverbs that sound like fever-dream ancestors of Strymon’s “shimmer” effect. There are backwards-guitar simulators, multiple extraterrestrial voices, peculiar foreshadows of the EarthQuaker Devices Arpanoid and Rainbow Machine (check out patch 208 BIZARRMONIZER), and even button-triggered Foley effects that require no input signal (including a siren, helicopter, tank, submarine, ocean waves, thunder, and wind). If you’re ever without your deck of Oblique Strategies cards, the H3000’s singular knob makes a pretty good substitute. (Spin the big wheel and find out what you’ve won!)
“If you’re ever without your deck of Oblique Strategies cards, the H3000’s singular knob makes a pretty good substitute.”
But there’s another, more pedestrian reason I tend to reach for the H3000 and its rackmount relatives in the studio: I like to do certain types of processing after the mic. It’s easy to overlook, but guitar speakers are signal processors in their own right. They roll off high and low end, they distort when pushed, and the cabinets in which they’re mounted introduce resonances. While this type of de facto processing often flatters the guitar itself, it isn’t always advantageous for effects.
Effects loops allow time-based effects to be placed after preamp distortion, but I like to go one further. By miking the amp first and then sending signal to effects in parallel, I can get full bandwidth from the airy reverbs and radical pitched-up effects the H3000 can offer—and I can get it in stereo, printed to its own track, allowing the wet/dry balance to be revisited later, if needed. If a sound needs to be reproduced live, that’s a problem for later. (Something evocative enough can usually be extracted from a pedal-form descendant like the Eventide H90.)
Like most vintage gear, the H3000 has some endearing quirks. Even as it knowingly preserves glitches from earlier Eventide harmonizers (patch 217 DUAL H910s), it betrays its age with a few idiosyncrasies of its own. Extreme pitch-shifting exhibits a lot of aliasing (think: bit-crusher sounds), and the analog Murata filter modules impart a hint of warmth that many plug-in versions don’t quite capture. (They also have a habit of leaking black goo all over the motherboard!) It’s all part of the charm of the unit, beloved by its adherents. (Well, maybe not the leaking goo!)
In 2025, many guitarists won’t be eager to care for what is essentially an expensive, cranky, decades-old computer. Even the excitement of occasional tantalum capacitor explosions is unlikely to win them over! Fortunately, some great software emulations exist—Eventide’s own plugin even models the behavior of the Murata filters. But hardware offers the full hands-on experience, so next time you spot an old H3000 in a rack somewhere—and you’ve got the time—fire it up, wait for the distinctive “click” of its relays, spin the knob, and start digging.
6V6 and EL84 power sections deliver a one-two punch in a super-versatile, top-quality, low-wattage combo.
Extremely dynamic. Sounds fantastic in both EL84 and 6V6 settings. Excellent build quality.
Heavy for a 9-to-15-watt combo. Expensive.
$3,549
Divided by 13 CCC 9/15
The announcement in January 2024 that Two-Rock had acquired Divided by 13 Amplifiers (D13) was big news in the amp world. It was also good news for anyone who’d enjoyed rocking D13’s original, hand-made creations and hoped to see the brand live on. From the start of D13’s operations in the early ’90s, founder and main-man Fred Taccone did things a little differently. He eschewed existing designs, made his amps simple and tone-centric, and kept the company itself simple and small. And if that approach didn’t necessarily make him rich, it did earn him a stellar reputation for top-flight tube amps and boatloads of star endorsements.
D13’s history is not unlike Two-Rock’s. But the two companies are known for very different sounding amplifiers and very different designs. As it happens, the contrast makes the current Two-Rock company—itself purchased by long-time team members Eli Lester and Mac Skinner in 2016—a complementary new home for D13. The revived CCC 9/15 model, tested here, is from the smaller end of the reanimated range. Although, as we’ll discover, there’s little that’s truly “small” about any amp wearing the D13 badge—at least sound-wise.
Double Duty
Based on Taccone’s acclaimed dual-output-stage design, the CCC 9/15 delivers around 9 watts from a pair of 6V6GT tubes in class A mode, or 15 watts from a pair of EL84s in class AB1 mode (both configurations are cathode-biased). It’s all housed in a stylishly appointed cabinet covered in two-tone burgundy and ivory—together in perfect harmony—with the traditional D13 “widow’s peak” on a top-front panel framing an illuminated “÷13” logo plate. Measuring 22" x 211/4" x 10.5" and weighing 48 pounds, it’s chunky for a 1x12 combo of relatively diminutive wattage. But as Taccone would say, “There’s no big tone from small cabs,” and the bigging-up continues right through the rest of the design.
With a preamp stage that’s kin to the D13 CJ11, the front end of the CCC 9/15 is a little like a modified tweed Fender design. Driven by two 12AX7 twin triodes, it’s not a mile from the hallowed 5E3 Fender Deluxe, but with an EQ stage expanded to independent bass and treble knobs. Apart from those, there are volume and master volume controls with a push-pull gain/mid boost function on the former. In addition to the power and standby switches, there’s a third toggle to select between EL84 and 6V6 output, with high and low inputs at the other end of the panel. Along with two fuse sockets and an IEC power-cord receptacle, the panel on the underside of the chassis is home to four speaker-output jacks—one each for 4 ohms and 16 ohms and two for 8 ohms—plus a switch for the internal fan, acknowledging that all those output tubes can get a little toasty after a while.
“Set to 6V6 mode, the CCC 9/15 exudes ’50s-era tweed warmth and richness, with juicy compression that feels delightful under the fingertips.”
The combo cabinet is ruggedly built from Baltic birch ply and houses a Celestion G12H Creamback speaker. Construction inside is just as top notch, employing high-quality components hand-soldered into position and custom-made transformers designed to alternately handle the needs of two different sets of output tubes. In a conversation I had with Taccone several years ago discussing the original design, he noted that by supplying both sets of tubes with identical B+ levels of around 300 volts DC (courtesy of a 5AR4/GZ34 tube rectifier), the EL84s ran right in their wheelhouse—producing around 15 watts, and probably more, in cathode-biased class AB1. The 6V6s operate less efficiently, however, and can be biased hot to true class A levels, yielding just 9 to 11 watts.
Transatlantic Tone Service
Tested with a Gibson ES-355 and a Fender Telecaster, the CCC 9/15 delivers many surprises in spite of its simple controls and is toothsome and dynamic throughout its range. Between the four knobs, push-pull boost function, and 6V6/EL84 switch, the CCC 9/15 range of clean-to-grind settings is impressive regardless of volume, short of truly bedroom levels, perhaps. It also has impressive headroom and a big, robust voice for a combo that maxes out at 15 watts. Leaving the boost switch off affords the most undistorted range from the amp in either output-tube mode, though the front end will still start to push things into sweet edge-of-breakup with the volume up around 1 or 2 o’clock. Pull up that knob and kick in the boost, though, and things get thick and gutsy pretty quick.
While the power disparity between the 6V6 and EL84 settings is noticeable in the amp’s perceived output, which enhances its usefulness in different performance settings, you can also think of the function as an “era and origins” switch. Set to 6V6 mode, the CCC 9/15 exudes ’50s-era tweed warmth and richness, with juicy compression that feels delightful under the fingertips. The EL84 setting, on the other hand, ushers in ’60s-influenced voices with familiar British chime, sparkle, and a little more punch and cutting power, too.
The Verdict
If the CCC 9/15 were split into different 6V6 and EL84 amps, I’d hate to have to choose between them. Both of the amp’s tube modes offer expressive dynamics and tasty tones that make it adaptable to all kinds of venues and recording situations. From the pure, multi-dimensional tone to the surprisingly versatile and simple control set to the top-flight build quality, the CCC 9/15 is a pro-grade combo that touch-conscious players will love. It’s heavy for an amp in its power range, and certainly expensive, but the sounds and craft involved will make the cost worth it for a lot of players interested in consolidating amp collections.
The luthier’s stash.
There is more to a guitar than just the details.
A guitar is not simply a collection of wood, wire, and metal—it is an act of faith. Faith that a slab of lumber can be coaxed to sing, and that magnets and copper wire can capture something as expansive as human emotion. While it’s comforting to think that tone can be calculated like a tax return, the truth is far messier. A guitar is a living argument between its components—an uneasy alliance of materials and craftsmanship. When it works, it’s glorious.
The Uncooperative Nature of Wood
For me it all starts with the wood. Not just the species, but the piece. Despite what spec sheets and tonewood debates would have you believe, no two boards are the same. One piece of ash might have a bright, airy ring, while another from the same tree might sound like it spent a hard winter in a muddy ditch.
Builders know this, which is why you’ll occasionally catch one tapping on a rough blank, head cocked like a bird listening. They’re not crazy. They’re hunting for a lively, responsive quality that makes the wood feel awake in your hands. But wood is less than half the battle. So many guitarists make the mistake of buying the lumber instead of the luthier.
Pickups: Magnetic Hopes and Dreams
The engine of the guitar, pickups are the part that allegedly defines the electric guitar’s voice. Sure, swapping pickups will alter the tonality, to use a color metaphor, but they can only translate what’s already there, and there’s little percentage in trying to wake the dead. Yet, pickups do matter. A PAF-style might offer more harmonic complexity, or an overwound single-coil may bring some extra snarl, but here’s the thing: Two pickups made to the same specs can still sound different. The wire tension, the winding pattern, or even the temperature on the assembly line that day all add tiny variables that the spec sheet doesn’t mention. Don’t even get me started about the unrepeatability of “hand-scatter winding,” unless you’re a compulsive gambler.
“One piece of ash might have a bright, airy ring, while another from the same tree might sound like it spent a hard winter in a muddy ditch.”
Wires, Caps, and Wishful Thinking
Inside the control cavity, the pots and capacitors await, quietly shaping your tone whether you notice them or not. A potentiometer swap can make your volume taper feel like an on/off switch or smooth as an aged Tennessee whiskey. A capacitor change can make or break the tone control’s usefulness. It’s subtle, but noticeable. The kind of detail that sends people down the rabbit hole of swapping $3 capacitors for $50 “vintage-spec” caps, just to see if they can “feel” the mojo of the 1950s.
Hardware: The Unsung Saboteur
Bridges, nuts, tuners, and tailpieces are occasionally credited for their sonic contributions, but they’re quietly running the show. A steel block reflects and resonates differently than a die-cast zinc or aluminum bridge. Sloppy threads on bridge studs can weigh in, just as plate-style bridges can couple firmly to the body. Tuning machines can influence not just tuning stability, but their weight can alter the way the headstock itself vibrates.
It’s All Connected
Then there’s the neck joint—the place where sustain goes to die. A tight neck pocket allows the energy to transfer efficiently. A sloppy fit? Some credit it for creating the infamous cluck and twang of Fender guitars, so pick your poison. One of the most important specs is scale length. A longer scale not only creates more string tension, it also requires the frets to be further apart. This changes the feel and the sound. A shorter scale seems to diminish bright overtones, accentuating the lows and mids. Scale length has a definite effect on where the neck joins the body and the position of the bridge, where compromises must be made in a guitar’s overall design. There are so many choices, and just as many opportunities to miss the mark. It’s like driving without a map unless you’ve been there before.
Alchemy, Not Arithmetic
At the end of the day, a guitar’s greatness doesn’t come from its spec sheet. It’s not about the wood species or the coil-wire gauge. It’s about how it all conspires to either soar or sink. Two guitars, built to identical specs, can feel like long-lost soulmates or total strangers. All of these factors are why mix-and-match mods are a long game that can eventually pay off. But that’s the mystery of it. You can’t build magic from a parts list. You can’t buy mojo by the pound. A guitar is more than the sum of its parts—it’s a sometimes unpredictable collaboration of materials, choices, and human touch. And sometimes, whether in the hands of an experienced builder or a dedicated tinkerer, it just works.
Two Iconic Titans of Rock & Metal Join Forces for a Can’t-Miss North American Trek
Tickets Available Starting Wednesday, April 16 with Artist Presales
General On Sale Begins Friday, April 18 at 10AM Local on LiveNation.com
This fall, shock rock legend Alice Cooper and heavy metal trailblazers Judas Priest will share the stage for an epic co-headlining tour across North America. Produced by Live Nation, the 22-city run kicks off September 16 at Mississippi Coast Coliseum in Biloxi, MS, and stops in Toronto, Phoenix, Los Angeles, and more before wrapping October 26 at The Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion in The Woodlands, TX.
Coming off the second leg of their Invincible Shield Tour and the release of their celebrated 19th studio album, Judas Priest remains a dominant force in metal. Meanwhile, Alice Cooper, the godfather of theatrical rock, wraps up his "Too Close For Comfort" tour this summer, promoting his most recent "Road" album, and will have an as-yet-unnamed all-new show for this tour. Corrosion of Conformity will join as support on select dates.
Tickets will be available starting Wednesday, April 16 at 10AM local time with Artist Presales. Additional presales will run throughout the week ahead of the general onsale beginning Friday, April 18 at 10AM local time at LiveNation.comTOUR DATES:
Tue Sep 16 – Biloxi, MS – Mississippi Coast Coliseum
Thu Sep 18 – Alpharetta, GA – Ameris Bank Amphitheatre*
Sat Sep 20 – Charlotte, NC – PNC Music Pavilion
Sun Sep 21 – Franklin, TN – FirstBank Amphitheater
Wed Sep 24 – Virginia Beach, VA – Veterans United Home Loans Amphitheater
Fri Sep 26 – Holmdel, NJ – PNC Bank Arts Center
Sat Sep 27 – Saratoga Springs, NY – Broadview Stage at SPAC
Mon Sep 29 – Toronto, ON – Budweiser Stage
Wed Oct 01 – Burgettstown, PA – The Pavilion at Star Lake
Thu Oct 02 – Clarkston, MI – Pine Knob Music Theatre
Sat Oct 04 – Cincinnati, OH – Riverbend Music Center
Sun Oct 05 – Tinley Park, IL – Credit Union 1 Amphitheatre
Fri Oct 10 – Colorado Springs, CO – Broadmoor World Arena
Sun Oct 12 – Salt Lake City, UT – Utah First Credit Union Amphitheatre
Tue Oct 14 – Mountain View, CA – Shoreline Amphitheatre
Wed Oct 15 – Wheatland, CA – Toyota Amphitheatre
Sat Oct 18 – Chula Vista, CA – North Island Credit Union Amphitheatre
Sun Oct 19 – Los Angeles, CA – Kia Forum
Wed Oct 22 – Phoenix, AZ – Talking Stick Resort Amphitheatre
Thu Oct 23 – Albuquerque, NM – Isleta Amphitheater
Sat Oct 25 – Austin, TX – Germania Insurance Amphitheater
Sun Oct 26 – Houston, TX – The Cynthia Woods Mitchell Pavilion
*Without support from Corrosion of Conformity