Animals as Leaders’ Tosin Abasi and Javier Reyes Rediscover “Real” Amps
Looking to the past for inspiration as they haul ass toward the future of guitar—with elite instruments, innovative techniques, and the stunning compositional arc of the new album Parrhesia.
How often does a player come along that legitimately advances and expands the vocabulary of electric guitar? How often does a player come along that changes the fashion of guitar? In the case of Animals as Leaders’ illustrious guitar tag-team, Tosin Abasi and Javier Reyes, their contributions as players, songwriters, gear designers, and producers have not just changed guitar culture but arguably dragged it into the future. And whether you’re onboard with the program—djent, prog, nu-fusion, call it what you will—Abasi and Reyes have played an inordinate role in inspiring a new generation of guitarists to pick up extended-scale instruments, download some plug-ins, and hit the Instagram woodshed.
Abasi and Reyes don’t just write incredibly technical music. They write incredibly technical music with artistic intention and emotional impact that’s much deeper than their fretboard histrionics might initially seem. Armed with signature 7- and 8-string guitars they’ve helped design, the duo approach Animals as Leaders’ music with the cerebral focus of symphonic composers.
For open-minded fans of guitar, the techniques the pair employ within the group’s evocative songs are a revelation. Abasi has developed surprising selective picking approaches, next-level melodic tapping, and a unique thumping, athletic take on slap guitar that blends the longstanding bass-birthed approach with classical fingerpicking. And in Reyes, Abasi has found the ideal foil and co-writer for his radical approaches and musical concepts. Reyes’ own playing style is best described as a unique extension of classical guitar. He’s a fundamentally gifted player whose work underpinning and supporting Abasi’s flights of fancy is often taken for granted. That said, Reyes makes no bones about being a song-first type of guy and the potency of their pairing is undeniable.
ANIMALS AS LEADERS - The Problem of Other Minds (Official Music Video)
On the new Parrhesia, Animals as Leaders—completed by drummer Matt Garstka—reprise the more aggressive sound of their early albums. However, the threads of fusion, electronica, and textural intrigue that have defined their last few releases lace up Parrhesia in a waythat reconciles this band’s maturity and sophistication with their perennial desire to pen viscous, visceral extended-scale riffs. Written and recorded in collaboration with Misha Mansoor (Periphery, Bulb), the group’s longtime ghost member and a bona fide guitar hero himself, Parrhesia is as much a defining document of where progressive metal is at in 2022 as it is a vehicle for Abasi and Reyes’ jaw-dropping prowess as guitarists and songwriters.
In this wide-ranging interview, Abasi and Reyes take us inside the making of their long-awaited new work, dig deep on the esoteric and heady musical concepts and playing techniques that shaped the sound of Parrhesia, tell us why real tube amps edged out their long-trusted modelers, and Abasi discusses everything from purchasing Joe Bonamassa’s TrueFire courses, designing signature guitars, and beyond.
There was a much longer gestation period between this record and 2016’s The Madness of Many. I know part of that was simply the pandemic. Can you tell us about the writing process, how the extra time played a role, and what made writing this album unique relative to other Animals as Leaders recordings?
Tosin Abasi: You’re right, the pandemic did kind of throw a wrench in it because there was a period where we were just afraid to get into the same room. Then there’s the mental side, where it just got weird for a second. We felt hesitant because do you really want to release an album that you can’t tour on? Everyone’s lives got a bit turned upside down and I had some periods where I just wasn’t feeling creative, so when you combine all of that, there is a big chunk added to the distance between the last record and this one because of things outside of our control. I’m sure we’re not alone in that regard.
“I’ve flirted with the idea of doing a blues album—which sounds funny to say—but I would put a twist on it.” —Tosin Abasi
Javier Reyes: We also wanted to give ourselves some time and not fully repeat ourselves. I think we have a style, but we try to come up with new versions of that style on every release. So, it was nice to have that big break and space to write. Most of the writing was done in person. We don’t jam out any material. We sit in front of a computer. Considering the complexity of the rhythms and the guitar parts, jamming in a band room isn’t productive, considering that sometimes a single riff of ours may take weeks to get right. We try to let the song dictate where it’s gonna go.
The pandemic seems to have been really polarizing for creatives, where people either completely shut down or they went deep in their craft.
Abasi: I’m glad you brought that up because I was actually feeling burnt out on touring. As a human being, when being home is constantly a temporary thing, you feel like you’re missing out on the part of your life that isn’t holding a guitar. So, I had secretly been wanting some time off from touring. But as a musician, I had a huge burst of creativity where I was like, “Whoa, I have all this time to play!” So, I started buying TrueFire lessons and going on YouTube and learning more guitar, which was cool! There was a big chunk in the beginning of the pandemic where I was hyper-productive and hyper-creative.
Whose TrueFire courses did you buy?
Abasi: I was trying to work on my weak points, and I’m not a blues player, so I bought some blues lessons from Oz Noy, Josh Smith, and Ariel Posen. I’m still doing that. Joe Bonamassa just released some TrueFire stuff that’s really good. Beyond the blues stuff, I was looking at Alex Jung, who’s got a lot of etudes that are based off of individual scale concepts, like Messiaen modes or melodic minors.
Tosin Abasi, with his ergonomic, fanned-fretted Abasi Concepts Larada Master Series model, blends ferocity, melody, and imagination in every studio or stage appearance, but he also has an appreciation of fundamental guitar building blocks, like blues licks.
Photo by Annie Atlasman
So, you’re studying blues? Are we going to hear some boomer bends on the next album?
Abasi: Bro, I’m bending on the album a little! On the next one, I think you will! I’ve flirted with the idea of doing a blues album—which sounds funny to say—but I would put a twist on it. It’s kind of a novelty to me, but the constraint is fun to work with and to see where I can get creative within that box is an interesting idea.
Can you tell us about your relationship as co-guitarists?
Abasi: Javier is perfect for so many reasons. Foundationally, he’s not very ego-driven and does a lot of production, so he doesn’t feel like he has to be the one doing the flashy guitar part to something that might be already written. He understands the greater picture and doesn’t arbitrarily insert himself, and that’s huge, because guitar players and big egos are synonymous. Javier is really good at filling in the gaps, so wherever I stop having musical ideas, he takes off right from there. We have a lot of songs where Javier wrote the main melody or there’s a complementary guitar part to what I’ve written and he’s seamlessly able to do both. As far as his actual skill set as a player, he works a lot with the unique offshoot of classical guitar he’s developed, so he’s good at doing chordal melodies and harmonies, and his brain is situated there. When you want more harmony added to a part or you need a melody, Javier’s skill set works well at filling in those blanks. He’s got a unique voice. And we’re really good friends. I’ve known Javier for close to 20 years of touring with him and writing music with him, and he’s kind of like the band dad.
Reyes: Tosin definitely thinks outside the box, as do I, but my natural tendency is to focus on making interesting music—not necessarily the most innovative guitar part. Tosin throws a lot of random techniques my way that I’m not afraid of learning and that aren’t necessarily things I would practice on my own, but I’ve learned some of the hardest things I know how to play for the sake of playing in this band. Even before Animals—when we were just homies back in the day—we definitely inspired each other in a lot of ways. I’ve always been able to write stuff that complements his stuff, and vice versa. If Tosin’s doing a crazy technique, I know how to write around that and add a simpler technique on top of it. I think we have a pretty harmonious guitar relationship. We feed off each other and I would say a lot of the fingerpicking stuff that Tosin’s done throughout the years comes from being exposed to the classical stuff that I do. And I definitely wouldn’t be thumping on guitar if I hadn’t played in Animals as Leaders.
I understand you guys did a complete mix of the album with plug-ins, scrapped it, and re-did the mix with real tube amps. Why did the tube amps win out?
Abasi: We’ve used modelers for over a decade and were using them exclusively at one point. These things have become indiscernible from their real tube counterparts. On this record, we were getting plug-in tones that we were happy with, but we had a loud room with some cool amps, so just for shits and giggles we reamped some things to see if the quality of the tone was different, and we found that particularly in the low-mids and the lower frequencies there was just a different character to a mic on a loud cab. We objectively decided that we were getting more life out of the recorded tones and we were happier with the behavior in the low end. So, we ended up re-tracking everything, and we would compare each section we re-amped to the printed plug-in preset tone we had, and we were always happier with the recorded re-amped version. We were being very objective, and we did A/B them.
“I still don’t know which is better in general, but after doing the entire album with amps, there’s definitely a thing to real amps that I think all of the digital companies still haven’t been able to replicate.”
—Javier Reyes
Reyes: Ninety-five percent of the guitar tones on there are real amps. This was the first time that we did that. On previous albums, everything’s always been Axe-Fx. We did have a whole mix of the album where all the tones were Neural DSP plug-ins and Axe-Fx, but for some reason we were like, “Yo, let’s just try real amps” and we got results that we were happy with. We were like “Right, we'll do the whole album again!” It was just a matter of thinking about what the songs needed. The plug-ins didn’t sound bad, but we were getting some really good results out of the real amps, and we were like, “Why fight it? Let’s just keep using that.”
Parrhesia is distinctly more aggressive than its predecessor. Would you say the lack of body in plug-ins made them inferior to the real amps for the heavier guitar parts?
Abasi: The material was written before the recording session, and we somehow just defaulted into writing a heavier album. But yeah, I think our preference for the miked amps was because the tones we wanted were heavier, and the key is in the low-end compression of these distorted tones. The real amp hitting the diaphragm of a microphone just captures a bit more energy. Maybe it’s the perception of volume? But using real amps and the fact that the record was heavier worked hand-in-hand. We found that the amp and mic situation conveyed a bit more of that energy.
Reyes: In my opinion, yes and no. I think it has a lot to do with who’s running the recording session and who’s miking the amps up. When we did The Joy of Motion, we were at this million-dollar studio with Friedmans, Marshalls, and everything you could possibly want. But in the control room, it felt no different than the Axe-Fx because there’s 50 feet of cables and the cabs are in the other room, and the mic positions are a variable. For this album, we were using a different recording engineer and his techniques for miking the cab were 100 percent different, in a much less expensive studio, but the results were substantially better and it felt different than the plug-ins and modelers. I still don’t know which is better in general, but after doing the entire album with amps, there’s definitely a thing to real amps that I think all of the digital companies still haven’t been able to replicate.
At New York City’s Webster Hall, Javier Reyes cuts loose on his ESP Custom 8-String S-type.
Photo by Joe Russo
The aggression on this album is kind of just a natural progression, but also deliberate. When I listen to metal these days, it’s pretty aggro metal, and we spoke about making this album more aggressive than the last. Considering how experimental The Madness of Many was, we had the feeling that most people were expecting a more experimental album after releasing songs like “Arithmophobia” or “The Brain Dance” or “Transcentience”— which were all pretty fusion-y. I wanted to bring it back to some real heavy shit to not let people forget. It’s like “Don’t get it twisted, ya’ll. We can still hang!”
Misha Mansoor co-wrote and co-produced several tracks on the new album. What did having him back in the fold bring to the process?
Abasi: Misha seamlessly integrates into what we’re doing. I did the first album with him before I had a band and I find that as a producer there’s not a single riff that I write that Misha doesn’t instantly comprehend. He’s got a great musical mind, especially for rhythm, but for harmony, too. I think Misha undersells himself there, and I’ve been impressed many times with his chord voicings and chord progressions. As a producer, he’s very quick and that’s super valuable because you’re unimpeded in your songwriting when he’s building a track. This is the third body of work of ours that Misha’s been heavily involved in, so our process is well-defined, and he’s a friend. Sometimes if you get a producer and you don’t know them personally, you might feel nervous throwing an idea out or voicing an opinion. I don’t know if people always consider the human relationship element of the creative process, but it’s super important to just vibe with the person you’re working with.
Tosin Abasi and Javier Reyes’ Gear (shared for 'Parrhesia')
After mixing Parrhesia, Tosin Abasi and Javier Reyes opted to return to the board and reamp all the guitar sounds generated by plug-ins with a few muscular tube amps, then mix again.
Guitars
- Abasi Concepts Larada Master Series
- Abasi Concepts Space T
- ESP JR-7 Custom
- ESP Custom 8-String S-type
- ESP LTD SN-1000
Amps
- Morgan SW50R
- Friedman Buxom Betty
- Mesa/Boogie Dual Rectifier
- Custom 4x12 cabinet with two Celestion Greenbacks and two Vintage 30s
Effects
- Friedman BE-OD
- Bogner Harlow
- Eventide H9
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario NYXL .0095 sets (Abasi)
- D’Addario NYXL .009–.042 sets with a .056 and .074 for the 7th and 8th strings (Reyes)
- Dunlop Primetone 1.4 mm Sculpted Plectra Jazz III (Abasi)
- Dunlop .73 mm (Reyes)
How do you approach reconciling technicality and playing things that are fun and demonstrative while making emotionally moving statements?
Abasi: Essentially, to reconcile them you have to feel that whatever you’ve just written with whatever snazzy technique is grounded in some sort of compelling rhythm or harmony, and ideally both. A good smell test would be if you played it for someone who didn’t play guitar. Would they be struck, or would they feel anything? If you couldn’t see it being performed, is it still valuable, because a lot of this is like, “Oh! That’s how you’re making those sounds?”
As guitar players, we’re always listening to the audio and wondering where on the neck is this note being played or is he picking all those notes? There’s all this reverse engineering to what we’re hearing. For me, technique is a vehicle to create sounds that are sometimes a novelty, but not used just because they’re a novelty. There can be a stimulating effect to hearing a guitar do something that you haven’t readily heard before. It activates part of the listening mind. I’m pretty obsessed with new sounds and that’s why I try to coax them out of my guitar via new techniques.
Using harmony is a good way to imbue emotional triggers inside of music because irrespective if you’re slapping or sweep picking or whatever, the combination of intervals in the melodic phrases you’re playing is what’s gonna evoke a sense of emotion in a listener. That’s where I try to marry my technique with something that is evocative, and hopefully I find something that pulls at you in some emotional way.
Reyes: We like writing deliberately complicated music, but what we end up writing naturally tends to be complicated anyways. Even with my solo stuff, Mestis, which is a lot less heady than Animals’ stuff—it’s still very difficult to play. There has to be some feel, but there is also some “how are we gonna figure this idea out?” And there is also the very deliberate “let’s make this part nuts!”
We prioritize the song and the tone over needing to use our signature software and signature guitars.” —Javier Reyes
Certain things I hear on this album remind me of a West African kora or a synthesizer, like the guitar hook on “The Problem of Other Minds” that traces that synth line. Where do you find inspiration for new sounds?
Abasi: That is a great observation because the kora is a super cool-sounding instrument. There’s a guitarist named Lionel Loueke, from Benin, and he puts paper underneath the strings of his guitar near the bridge to create this unique, muted thing that sounds a little like a thumb piano. I started to get into this heavily arpeggiated but clean and muted timbre that’s almost like a kora or a thumb piano or a harp. And the synth thing is huge for me, because I really love electronic music and I really like that arpeggiated cycling through all the intervals in a chord like a step-sequenced synth.
Guitar players normally achieve that through sweep picking, but I wanted a different sound where it didn’t sound like you played it with a pick and there wasn’t this uniformity between pick strokes. It sounded like a note-on/note-off sort of thing. So, I started working on this left-hand-dependent sort of staccato arpeggiating stuff that really harkens to a step-sequencer. So yeah, you nailed it. Those are sources where I’m hearing notes fly by and it’s not just some shredder on guitar playing them, but it’s activating the part of my brain that wants to incorporate that sound. The funny thing about “The Problem of Other Minds” is it was written on guitar first and then we wrote the MIDI for the synth, but I really like this blurring of the line where maybe it hits the listener in a way where they think the synth part was written first and that the guitars are emulating the synth.
“Micro-Aggressions” is an absolutely barnstorming guitar anthem. Can you walk us a bit through the writing of that one?
Reyes: It was Tosin’s riff, and it was like, “Here’s this riff, no holding back. Let’s just go in!” No one had any arguments about it!
Abasi: “Micro-Aggressions” is a magnum opus to the selective-picking technique I’ve been obsessing over, where you pick intermittently while your left hand does hammer-ons and produces quite a lot of notes. Your picking hand interjects here and there, and it’s this weird decoupling of your left and right hands. The phrases are composed by integrating the left and right hands, but they’re performing independent roles. What I wanted to do was make something that almost seemed like a classical piece, so there’s a lot of even note values and a lot of the harmony is natural minor, melodic minor, and harmonic minor. I just wanted a high-BPM blistering thing, but forcing myself to use selective picking throughout the entirety of the tune. That song is very demanding.
Note that thumb. It’s part of Tosin Abasi’s highly original thumping approach (inspired by Regi and Victor Wooten) that blends an old-school funk move with classic fingerpicking.
Photo by Steve Kalinsky
You’ve both got a lot of signature gear now between plug-ins, Fishman pickups, the Abasi Concepts guitars, and Javier’s signature ESP guitars. How does tone, design, and fashion intersect for you guys?
Abasi: It’s hard to disaggregate it all for me, because when it comes to something like the Larada—the guitar I designed and play—it is a synergy of aesthetic and function. Part of the shape of that guitar is informed by wanting to make an impact with aesthetics, but it also all serves a functional role—whether it’s ergonomics or how thin the guitar is or how light the guitar is or where that center point is when you’re in a seated position and how far out do your arms have to go to navigate the whole neck from one extreme to the other. I wanted to do something for players who wanted to make a statement with their instrument. I wanted to make a guitar that felt like the person playing it had an aesthetic contribution to their playing that represented something about them—whether it’s that they’re forward-thinking or they need a very precision-focused modern instrument.
Reyes: Having the signature gear is amazing and we try to use our own products as much as possible, but when in the studio I like to think as a producer. It’s about what’s going to give you the best tone for the part. We prioritize the song and the tone over needing to use our signature software and signature guitars. There are a couple parts on the record where Tosin was using my guitar for his solo and vice versa. The outcome of the song is more important than each of us getting our guitars in the song.
Can you tell me about the guitars, amps, and effects that really shaped the sound of the album?
Abasi: I used my Abasi Concepts Larada for virtually all of the record. We make a Tele-style guitar that I used for “The Problem of Other Minds,” where there’s a solo that I wanted a mid-gain, single-coil sound for. My Fishman pickups are voiced to reach into the higher frequencies a bit further than a traditional passive humbucker. You can get this crystalline clean that also translates into the split-coil sounds. I wanted something that almost sounded like a Tele on crack, because a lot of the slap and tapping stuff is really complemented by a single-coil characteristic. So a lot of the slap and selective picking and all the thumping parts are almost just the result of position 2 on my guitar, which sounds almost like the guitar has a preamp in it.
The Friedman BE-OD pedal into a Morgan SW50R was my main sound. The Morgan is just a great-sounding, single-channel pedal platform. It’s almost like if you were to take the preamp section from a high-gain head, but the power section and the headroom of a clean amp with no breakup. I feel like it has a slightly different character than if I was to play through a high-gain head on its own. It’s central to my sound, at this point.
“For me, technique is a vehicle to create sounds that are sometimes a novelty, but not used just because they’re a novelty.” —Tosin Abasi
I also use this almost boost-style compressor by Bogner called the Harlow, which was a collaboration between Reinhold Bogner and Rupert Neve. Instead of working like a discrete studio compressor that’s smooth and clamps down on the peaks of your notes, this feels like it almost expands the transients. It makes the notes pop in a way that’s really un-compressor-like. In some ways, it’s almost like when you start to crank the master volume on an amp and there’s more thud and more transients just because the whole power section’s working harder. Anytime you’re hearing something percussive or staccato, that pedal is in the loop.
Reyes: The bulk of the rhythm tones—especially slap tones—are a Morgan SW50R clean amp with a Friedman BE-OD pedal going through it. There was a Friedman Buxom Betty used. We used a Mesa/Boogie Dual Rec for some cleans. The main cab was a custom 4x12 with Celestion V30s and Greenbacks. All the rhythm stuff is Tosin’s Larada guitar, and all the melodies and solos are a variety of my guitars. I have an LTD SN-1000, my custom ESP JR-7 signature 7-string, my signature ESP S-type. The Bogner Harlow pedal—as you compress, it also adds a bit of gain and it kind of compresses in a different way than the normal compressor. It’s a very cool pedal and a one-trick pony, but it’s a very cool trick. And “Red Miso” is all Eventide H9.
The closest thing to your thumping technique I’ve ever heard is when Prince would slap on a guitar. Can you tell me a little bit about how that technique developed into a signature?
Abasi: I was in a band called Reflux back in the day, and our bass player, Evan Brewer, was shredding the thumping thing in like 2002/2003. I had not ever seen the technique before and he was like, “Yeah, this is something Regi Wooten and Victor Wooten do.” And not only thumping, but all sorts of innovative melodic tapping. I was just, like, “Dude, this is crazy!” and I forced him to show it to me. But I have to credit Regi and Victor Wooten—as far I know—as the people who innovated the double-stroke thumb thing going up and down, as opposed to the traditional single-note slap bass thing everyone knows. Regi Wooten is on some no barriers, no limits kind of stuff.
The density of notes you can produce efficiently with thumping is awesome, and I just had an immediate connection with it. Especially with the extended range, because it lends itself physically and sonically to bass techniques. I just knew that the difference or the contribution I wanted to make beyond what I’d heard from Victor and Regi was odd meter and heavy stuff. A lot of its appropriate application is in groovy, funky music, and I was able to see that technique being the foundation for some stuff that has nothing to do with funk.
"Monomyth" Playthrough!
The accomplished guitarist and teacher’s new record, like her lifestyle, is taut and exciting—no more, and certainly no less, than is needed.
Molly Miller, a self-described “high-energy person,” is fully charged by the crack of dawn. When Ischeduled our interview, she opted for the very first slot available—8:30 a.m.—just before her 10 a.m. tennis match!
Miller has a lot on her plate. In addition to gigs leading the Molly Miller Trio, she also plays guitar in Jason Mraz’s band, and teaches at her alma mater, the University of Southern California (USC), where, after a nine-year stint, she earned her bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate in music. In 2022, she became a professor of studio guitar at USC. Prior to that, she was the chair of the guitar department at the Los Angeles College of Music.
Molly Miller's Gear
Miller plays a fair bit of jazz, but considers herself simply a guitarist first: “Why do I love the guitar? Because I discovered Jimi Hendrix.”
Photo by Anna Azarov
Guitars
- 1978 Gibson ES-335
- Fender 1952 Telecaster reissue with a different neck and a bad relic job (purchased from Craigslist)
- Gibson Les Paul goldtop with P-90s
Amps
- Benson Nathan Junior
- Benson Monarch
- Fender Princeton Reverb Reissue (modified to “widen sound”)
Effects
- Chase Bliss Audio Dark World
- Chase Bliss Audio Warped Vinyl
- EarthQuaker Devices Dispatch Master
- EarthQuaker Devices Dunes
- EarthQuaker Devices Special Cranker
- JAM Pedals Wahcko
- JAM Pedals Ripply Fall
- Strymon Flint
- Fulltone Clyde Wah
- Line 6 Helix (for touring)
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball .011s for ES-335 and Les Paul
- Ernie Ball .0105s for Telecaster
- Fender Celluloid Confetti 351 Heavy Picks
To get things done, Miller has had to rely on a laser-focused approach to time management. “I’ve always kind of been juggling different aspects of my career. I was in grad school, getting a doctorate, TA-ing full time—so, teaching probably 20 hours a week, and then also doing probably four or five gigs a week, and getting a degree,” explains Miller. “I had to figure out how to create habits of, ‘I really want to play a lot of guitar, and gig a lot, but I also need to finish my degree and make extra money teaching, and I also want to practice.’ There’s a certain level of organization and thinking ahead that I always feel like I have to be doing.”
“The concept of the Molly Miller Trio—and also a part of my playing—is we are playing songs, we are bringing back the instrumental, we are thinking about the arrangement.”
The Molly Miller Trio’s latest release, The Battle of Hotspur, had its origins during the pandemic. Miller and bassist Jennifer Condos started writing the songs in March 2020, sending files back and forth to each other. They finally finished writing the album’s last song, “Head Out,” in December 2021, and four months later, recorded the album in just two days. The 12-song collection is subtle and cool, meandering like a warm, sparkling country river through a backwoods county. The arrangements feel spacious and distinctly Western—Miller’s guitar lines are clean and clear and dripped with just the right level of reverb, trem, and chorus, while Jay Bellerose’s brush-led percussion trots alongside like a trusty steed.
The Battle of Hotspur has a live feel, and that aspect was 100-percent deliberate. Miller says, “That’s the exact intention of our records—we want to create a record that we can play live. Jason Wormer, the recording and mixing engineer that did our record, came to a show of ours and was like, ‘This is incredible.’ He’s recorded so many records and was like, ‘This is the first time I’ve ever recorded a record that sounds the same live.’ And that was our exact intention. Because I feel like [the goal of] the trio itself was to be full. It’s not supposed to be like, ‘Oh, let’s put saxophone and let’s put keys and other guitars on it.’ The concept of the record is a full trio like the way Booker T. & the M.G.’s were. It’s not, ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if you added another instrument?’ No, we’re an instrumental trio.”
Musicality is what separates Miller from the rest of the pack. She has prodigious chops but uses them appropriately, when it makes musical sense, and her ability to honor a song’s written melody and bring it to life is one of her strong suits. “That’s a huge part of what we do,” she says. “The concept of the Molly Miller Trio—and also a part of my playing—is we are playing songs, we are bringing back the instrumental, we are thinking about the arrangement. The solo is a vehicle to further the story, to further the song, not just for me to shred. So often, you play a song, and you could be playing the solo over any song. There’s not enough time spent talking about how to play a melody convincingly, and then play a solo that’s connected to the melody.... Whether it’s a pop song, an original, or a standard, how you’re playing it is everything, and not just how you’re shredding over it.”
Miller still gets pigeonholed by expectations in the music industry, including the assumption that she’s a singer-songwriter: “I don’t sing. I’m a fucking guitar player.”
Photo by Anna Azarov
Miller’s strong sense of melody can be traced to her diverse palette of influences. Even though she’s a “jazzer” by definition, she’ll cover pop songs like the Everly Brothers’ “All I Have to Do is Dream” and the Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.” Miller says, “I spent nine years in jazz school. I practice ‘Giant Steps’ still for fun because I think it’s good for my guitar playing. But it was a release to be like, ‘I am not just a jazz guitar player at all!’ Why do I love the guitar? Because I discovered Jimi Hendrix, right? What made me feel things in high school? Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, and No Doubt. It’s like, Grant Green’s not why I play the guitar.
“I play jazz guitar, but I’m a guitar player that loves jazz. What do I put on my playlist? It’s not like I just listen to Wes Montgomery. I go from Wes Montgomery to the Beach Boys to freakin’ Big Thief to Bob Dylan to Dave Brubeck. The musicians I love are people who tell stories and have something to say—Brian Wilson, Cat Stevens.... They’re amazing songwriters.”
“Whether it’s a pop song, an original, or a standard, how you’re playing it is everything, and not just how you’re shredding over it.”
Despite a successful career, Miller continually faces sexism in the industry. “I went to a guitar hang two days ago. It was a big company, and they invited me to come and check out guitars. And I’m playing—I clearly know how to play the instrument—and this photographer there is like, ‘Oh, so are you a singer?’ And I’m just like, ‘No, I don’t sing. Fuck you,’” recalls Miller. “It’s such an internal struggle because of the interactions I have with the world. This kind of gets this thing in me where I feel like I need to prove to people, like, I am a guitar player. And at this point, I know I’m established enough. I play the guitar, and I know how to play it. I’m good, whatever. There still is this ego portion that I’m constantly fighting, and it comes from random people walking up to me and asking about me playing acoustic guitar and my singer-songwriter career or whatever. And I’m like, ‘I don’t sing. I’m a fucking guitar player.’”
YouTube It
Molly Miller gets to both tour with and open up for Jason Mraz’s band. Here’s a taste of Miller leading into Mraz’s set with some adeptly and intuitively performed riffs from a show in July 2022.
Our columnist shares the benefits of recording those moments where you’re just improvising and experimenting with ideas. If you make a practice of it, you’re more likely to strike gold.
Welcome back to another Dojo. To date, I’ve somehow managed to write over 50-plus articles and never once addressed the importance of recording your experimentations and early rehearsals in the studio (and of course, your live performances as well). Mea culpa!
This time, I’d like to pay homage to one of my greatest teachers and espouse the joy of recording the unedited, “warts-and-all,” part of the creative process. Don’t worry, you’re still beautiful!
Many times, early in the experimental development of riffs and songs, there are episodes where you simply play something that’s magical or particularly ear-catching—all without effort or forethought. It’s those moments when your ego has somehow dozed off in the backseat and your “higher power” takes over (for a moment, a minute, or more) before the ego jerks the wheel back and lets out a white-knuckled scream of sheer terror.
These are the “What was that?!” time gaps that you often wish you had been recording, because it’s usually these moments we frantically chase down by memory so we can capture them again—often with diluted results, where we’re left with a pallid approximation of what occurred.
Here’s another common scenario. As you work your way through developing rhythms and melodies, there are many gems that fall by the wayside because they don’t exactly fit the prevailing emotional ethos at the time. Without recording them in real time, these nuggets may be forever lost in the creative cosmos.
Both examples are coming from the same sacred place, where we give ourselves permission to try new things and step outside our ingrained, habitual patterns of composing and playing.
“It’s usually these moments we frantically chase down by memory so we can capture them again—often with diluted results.”
For several years I had the good fortune to study with one of the great maestros of jazz guitar, Joe Diorio. Simply put, he was the Yoda of jazz guitar for me and influenced many great players over the years through his virtuosity, creativity, and mystical improvisations.
One of the things we used to do on a regular basis was what he called “gestural playing.” Meaning, we would try and copy the rhythmic and melodic contour of musical passages we’d never heard before. Often, it wasn’t jazz, but world music, where the goal was to condense a symphonic work down to be playable on solo guitar (Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, Lutosławski’s Symphony No. 1, etc.). The point wasn’t note accuracy, but gestural similarity and committing to the emotion it invoked. Inevitably, it led both of us to play something unplanned, and jump-started our creativity—stumbling upon diamonds in the rough just waiting to be polished and cut.
There were always “Oh, that was cool! What was that?!” moments, and as we were recording a lesson, we could stop and play back the licks to investigate further. These examinations, in turn, led to other licks, and before we knew it, we had pages full of new melodic material to digest that all started from simple gestures.
To hear this process in action, listen to the bridge section of my song “Making the Faith,” into the guitar solo starting around 2:22. There are lots of odd meters and modulations that lead to a very gestural-inspired solo. Just to pique your interest even further, the chorus’ words are also gestural, and they form an acrostic puzzle that reveals a hidden message that I’ll leave you to figure out.
What I’d really like to do is to encourage you to try this the next time you are feeling creative, and, hopefully, on your next recording. With computers having more and more storage and hard-drive prices ever falling, there’s no excuse to not try the following:
1. Open your DAW and get a drum groove going.
2. Create a guitar track and allow yourself to simply improvise and make gestures for an open-ended period of time.
3. Afterwards, go back and listen.
4. Highlight the moments that pique your interest, and finally....
5. Compile these moments into a new track by mixing them up into edited “mini gestures.”
6. Listen to the results.
This type of experimentation will definitely lead you into new musical territory and then you can start to add harmonic implications, as well as refine things along the way.
Until next time, namaste.
The low-end groove-master—who’s worked with Soul Coughing, Fiona Apple, and Iron & Wine—shares some doses of wisdom.
Umpty-ump years ago, at the beginning of my music magazine career, I conducted my first ever interview. It was with bassist Sebastian Steinberg of Soul Coughing, and I was excited to be talking to half of the rhythm section powerhouse behind this avant-rock, sounds-like-nothing-else quartet.
Think weird samples, colliding harmonies, and half-sung boho poetry, all over some seriously sick grooves, with Steinberg driving the bus to Beelzebub with his thick upright tone and funky feel.
“In the middle of every groove, there’s the stupid part,” he told me then, drawing my attention to, as an example, the steady high-hat part in Sly & the Family Stone’s “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin).” If a groove makes your head nod, he said, “there’s something absolutely idiotic weaving its way down the middle.” As a bass player, he cautioned: “Sometimes you’re it.”
This idea stuck with me over the years, so I thought I’d see what Sebastian was up to. I caught him at a good time. After three well-received albums in the ’90s, Soul Coughing went their separate ways, and Steinberg went on to play both upright and electric with a variety of artists, including several that he describes as “fearlessly original.” That’s him on Fiona Apple’s acclaimed pandemic release, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, as well as singer-songwriter Iron & Wine’s latest album, Light Verse. This summer he’s touring Europe in a trio with drummer Matt Chamberlain and pianist Diana Krall (who didn’t want to play with “jazz guys”), and in the fall, he’s hitting the road with a reunited Soul Coughing.
I asked what it was about his approach that appeals to certain artists. “I like to play songs,” he answered. “But I have a musical curiosity and I can throw in my own ideas. My hands tend to be the smartest part of my body, so I can follow where the music leads.”
Steinberg says Fiona Apple’s 2020 record, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, “surpasses anything I’ve ever been involved in.”
Interestingly, when Sebastian started working at different points with Apple, Iron & Wine, and Krall, all three artists asked him not to listen to their previous albums. They wanted to create something new, current, and genuine, rather than, as Sebastian puts it, “trying to do stuff that’s already happened.”
“I’m not the bass player for everyone, which I’m really delighted to discover,” Steinberg continued. “But I’ve been sort of working out that there is a place for me. I’ve always been drawn to music that tends to ruffle feathers rather than smooth them. I gravitate towards people who are really strong individual thinkers, sometimes very much at the cost of their convenience, comfort, and public opinion. But the music is real. When musicians are real with each other, they’re as real as it gets.”
Sebastian describes the making of Fetch the Bolt Cutters as this kind of very real, exceptional experience. “It surpasses anything I’ve ever been involved in, including Soul Coughing,” he says. “I haven’t made an album so true, where nothing like this music has existed before, since Soul Coughing’s first album,” he said, referring to 1994’s Ruby Vroom. “Both albums were alive, unfettered, and truly unexplored territory.”
Fiona put the band together in 2016, inviting Steinberg, drummer Amy Aileen Wood, and multi-instrumentalist David Garza. “The four of us would go to the house, stomp around, sing in a chant she’d made up, and literally play like children or birds. After a while, songs began appearing. By the time we started going into the studio, we’d developed a level of trust and intimacy with each other, because we’d been playing in this non-specific but very personal way together. It's the most powerful band I’ve ever been in.”
“There are so many ways to approach music that transcend what the instrument was built to do. But you should know what it was built to do, because that’s a great job. It’s the best seat in the house.”
Sebastian notes that you do have to balance this kind of boldness with musical functionality. “Bass is a function, not an instrument,” he says. “There are so many ways to approach music that transcend what the instrument was built to do. But you should know what it was built to do, because that’s a great job. It’s the best seat in the house.”
So how does one go about getting real? “It’s about getting out of the way of whatever niceties musicians tend to inflict on each other,” he says. “You have to overcome fear and let the truth speak. Find the music and play it. Don’t bring your ego into it, but don’t let somebody scare you off from the music. And if you believe in what you’re doing, stick to it.”
A note of clarification
Last month’s column was about playing style, with Funkadelic bassist Billy Bass Nelson as an example. However, the magazine was already off to the printer when I finally connected with Nelson after several attempts. He told me that he did not play with a pick on Fred Wesley’s “Half A Man,” but often used his fingernails to get a similar attack. He also suggested two other songs that exemplify his style: Parlet’s 1978 track “Love Amnesia,” and the Temptations’ 1975 single “Shakey Ground.”
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This series features Jim D'Addario, Founder and Director of Innovation at D'Addario and Co., sharing his family's remarkable journey from 17th-century Italy to a 21st-century global enterprise.
In the first four episodes, available now, Jim D'Addario takes viewers back to the beginning, from making strings from animal guts, to knotting ukulele wire as a family around the television. Jim recounts the creation of strings that inspired legendary riffs, including one by The Who, the launch of Darco strings, the merger with Martin Guitars and the company’s humble beginnings with his wife, Janet and brother, John. Jim D'Addario's firsthand accounts provide an intimate and personal perspective on the milestones and challenges that shaped D'Addario into the brand it is today.
How D'Addario Invented The Modern Guitar String | Jim's Corner Ep. #1
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