
Garnett hits the floor with his Huss & Dalton dreadnought. The guitars are hand-built in Staunton, Virginia, at the company founded by Jeff Huss and Mark Dalton.
The guitarist’s experimental string band music opens new vistas for bluegrass, jazz, classical composition, and improv on his stunning debut album, Imitation Fields.
Ben Garnett’s debut album opens bravely, almost daring the casual listener to give up before anything recognizable as a tune emerges from the speakers. Instead, we hear a collage of abstract sound—a tape spooling backwards, spectral voices, and stringed instruments being rubbed and scraped. Out of these two minutes of gentle cacophony, an angular theme emerges, tentative at first, played on banjo and fiddle. Then the idea organizes itself into the punchy, gypsy-derived melody of “Thirty One Mouths.” And with that, the remarkable Imitation Fields gets underway.
Garnett manages to not imitate anyone on record or in his burgeoning performing career in the progressive acoustic arena. With electronic overlays, judicious use of noise, and passages of richly composed chamber music, he pushes the avant-garde boundaries of the string-band sound. And within this album lies the story of a guitar player who’s evolved from instrumental rock, through formal jazz studies, to cutting-edge acoustic music—all with intuition and skill.
Garnett established himself as a Nashville pro playing guitar in the band of bluegrass-star bassist Missy Raines. He also joined the newgrass quartet Circus No. 9 and launched a jazz trio that interprets a repertoire linking Miles Davis to Bill Monroe. So, at 28, with a unique set of influences and a head full of ideas, the time was right for Garnett to make a personal artistic statement. It wasn’t an easy or quick journey, but the result is both enthralling and challenging.
Ben Garnett - "The House on Wisteria"
Early in knowing Ben, I discovered he lives at a musically important address—a place folks call the Bluegrass Compound in Madison, Tennessee, just north and east of famously hip East Nashville. It’s an old fishing camp getaway from the early 20th century with lodges and houses made of stone and timber that’s become a musician’s enclave. Ben shares a house on a bluff overlooking the Cumberland River, just a few doors down from the home where string-master John Hartford lived and died. Over the years, musicians from the Grascals, the Sidemen, the Infamous Stringdusters, and Chris Jones and the Night Drivers have lived there, and it’s been the site of some epic picking parties.
“It wasn’t until halfway through college that I discovered the whole acoustic thing.”—Ben Garnett
On one visit, I noticed a stack of volumes from John Zorn’s Arcana: Musicians on Music book series, an exploration of advanced music theory that one wouldn’t generally see on the coffee table of a bluegrass picker. On another occasion, Garnett hosted a house concert featuring Circus No. 9 and the balladeer banjo and guitar player Joe Newberry. There were no amplifiers or microphones, just the natural resonance of the old room, with its wooden ceiling, walls, and floor making it one of the most ideal sonic experiences of my life. While most guitarists playing progressive string band music are building on a bluegrass background, it became clear Garnett was the opposite—a jazz guy learning bluegrass as an adult, and I found that novel and exciting.
Nashville has long been an epicenter for virtuoso string instrumentalists, but the city is enjoying a new golden age. The members of newgrass quartet Hawktail alone would distinguish the scene, with fiddler Brittany Haas, mandolinist Dominick Leslie, guitarist Jordan Tice, and bass player Paul Kowert. Kowert’s other job is playing with Chris Thile and Punch Brothers, and his brilliant guitarist bandmate Chris “Critter” Eldridge lives in Nashville with his wife, the folk singer Kristin Andreassen. Critter and Kowert play a huge role in Garnett’s story and his debut record. But that just touches on the acoustic talent and energy in town among pickers under 40. Bluegrass is being showcased at bars and venues far beyond its most traditional stage, the Station Inn. Molly Tuttle and Billy Strings are now mainstream stars. So, while Garnett’s in the right place at the right time, how did he get here?
“Early on, I knew that I wanted some kind of X factor element to the music,” says Ben Garnett. “I remember in high school being obsessed with Björk and Radiohead, and, like, folktronica.”
Photo by Emilio Mesa
Born in Arlington, Texas in 1994, Garnett started on piano before switching to guitar at about age 12. He soon discovered that his older cousin was acclaimed instrumental rock guitarist Andy Timmons. At a time when Ben was catching fire for the music of Joe Satriani and Steve Vai, having Timmons nearby gave him guidance in that flamboyant, electric style. Timmons, Garnett says, is “so expressive with the electric guitar. That definitely stuck with me as an influence, whether that’s controlling the notes in a certain way or thinking about touch. And it’s been interesting, as I’ve transitioned more to an acoustic guitar player, to try to hold on to some of that stuff.”
Timmons was one source of encouragement to study music formally in college, but so was Garnett’s proximity to the nationally renowned jazz program at the University of North Texas—a launch pad for Norah Jones, Snarky Puppy, and others. “It wasn’t until halfway through college that I discovered the whole acoustic thing,” Garnett relates. Ben was already a fan of the lyrical modern jazz guitarists Bill Frisell, Pat Metheny, and Julian Lage. Then Lage made Avalon with Chris Eldridge in 2014, an album that brought the flatpicking guitar duo into the 21st century. Says Garnett, “That record changed my life.”
That taste of neo-traditional picking sent Garnett down the rabbit hole of Tony Rice, Grant Gordy, and David Grier. Another pivotal experience was the Savannah Music Festival’s Acoustic Music Seminar, a week of collaboration and instruction for emerging talent. Garnett enjoyed mentoring by Eldridge and Lage, as well as Bryan Sutton and Mike Marshall. “Utterly formative,” is how he recalls it. “It was really my first time playing in string bands with like-minded people that were into this stuff. I was like, okay, whatever I can do to feel this way all the time … and honestly, moving to Nashville made the most sense.”
A core element of Garnett’s new album is natural samples that he manipulated in programs like Ableton Live. One motif on Imitation Fields, for example, is samples of rustling paper that have been twisted, filtered, and reversed, with an ASMR-stimulating kind of crackle.
Music City met him more than halfway when he landed his slot with Missy Raines only a few weeks after relocating in 2017. While her band Allegheny today leans to traditional bluegrass, then it was called the New Hip, and blended bluegrass, jazz, and a songwriter sensibility. Not only was Raines a source of interesting work and a ticket to the acoustic music circuit for Garnett, she began urging him to make a solo album. And as 2018 became 2019, he began consulting Kowert about songs and a way forward. Then Kowert urged Eldridge to step in formally as producer, and he was excited by the prospect. “Ben just had this beautifully learned relationship with music, but he had also clearly come to love string band music,” says Eldridge. “I thought this could be really interesting and edifying for me as well. Ben just had such a fascinating relationship to music, with so many cool, big ideas. I thought it’d be really fun.”
“I remember in high school being obsessed with Björk and Radiohead, and, like, folktronica.”—Ben Garnett
The sessions for Imitation Fields, which took place just before the 2020 shutdown, were built around three fourths of Hawktail, with Kowert on bass, Brittany Haas on fiddle, and Dominick Leslie on mandolin. Garnett also brought in Billy Contreras, a jazz and country fiddler with a fondness for playing outside with Coltrane-like extravagance. Banjo was by Matthew Davis, Garnett’s friend and colleague in Circus No. 9. Instructions for the musicians came through a mix of traditional charts with heads, audio demos built in GarageBand, general instructions for improvisational concepts, and some through-composed sections for a supplemental string quartet.
“Early on, I knew that I wanted some kind of X factor element to the music,” Garnett says. “I remember in high school being obsessed with Björk and Radiohead, and, like, folktronica. I’m also a big lover of early electronic stuff, like musique concrète and taking found sounds and layering them in different musical ways. And I would honestly say that some of that was more of an influence on the way that this record turned out.”
What followed was months of integrating the acoustic performances with electronic textures, something Eldridge says didn’t come easily. “If you have sounds that were captured off of acoustic instruments by microphones that are 18" away, the microphone also captures the room, the space around it, to some extent,” he says. “But if you have something that was generated by a synthesizer, the way that operates in the sound field is very different. It can sound very present. It can kind of take over the acoustic instruments.”
Ben Garnett's Gear
On his new release, Ben Garnett shares, “I’m a big lover of early electronic stuff, like musique concrète and taking found sounds and layering them in different musical ways. And I would honestly say that some of that was more of an influence on the way that this record turned out.”
Photo by Kaitlyn Raitz
Guitars
- 2013 Huss & Dalton TD-M Custom
- 1944 Martin D-28 (owned by Chris Eldridge)
- 1935 Martin 000-18(owned by Chris Eldridge)
Strings
- D’Addario Phosphor Bronze Mediums (.013–056)
Picks
- Blue Chip TAD 50
Garnett scrapped a lot of his synthesized sounds in favor of natural samples that he manipulated in programs like Ableton Live. One motif on Imitation Fields, for example, is samples of rustling paper that have been twisted, filtered, and reversed, with an ASMR-stimulating kind of crackle. We hear some manipulated vinyl crackles in places as well, and these sonic ideas nest and cradle the acoustic musicians in a kind of aural bubble wrap. “I am not aware of a record where those elements are as integral to the kind of core DNA of how the entire music functions—where those sounds are reliant upon the acoustic sounds and vice versa,” Eldridge says.
“If you have something that was generated by a synthesizer, the way that operates in the sound field is very different. It can kind of take over the acoustic instruments.”—Chris Eldridge
As I noted at the outset, the opening track acts as a kind of prelude/appetizer, priming the listener for surprise and a bit of healthy disorientation. But with the heart of “Thirty One Mouths,” we’re on more familiar ground conceptually, evoking the David Grisman Quintet of the 1980s. Next, “Open Your Books” sets a quick pulsing mix of instruments against some pretty, manipulated sounds. Kowert’s string bass is particularly thick and mobile in one of the central sections. Solos take place over a sweet, swooping feel. This tune inspired the first video single by the same name that Garnett released for the project, a visual journey that uses a mirror, bending and twisting, in natural locations, like fields and forests—an unstable frame within a stable one. It’s a clever and economical special effect that captures the looking-glass quality of the music.
“Moriarty” is slow and serene, with warm chords, long fiddle lines, and some antique spoken-word tape sampled from the internet and filtered. The song is broadly a slow waltz, but it takes a lot of turns in its 8 minutes, ending with a gradual crescendo of string noise and skronking that gets huge before vanishing to nothing. It’s one of the best examples of how Garnett’s designs work around the thoughtful use of dynamics. And then there’s “Nepal,” one of the signature pieces on Imitation Fields. Garnett plays looping, cross-picked passages mingled with chordal sequences, establishing a bit of a Middle Eastern vibe that’s picked up by Haas’ fiddle. The middle features a guitar solo that gives way to the bass, and then a lyrical full-ensemble surge and finale that’s among the lushest passages on the record.
Garnett’s chance to make a first impression as a leader is a success, but not an easy one to define. He’s not vying for the space cleared out by Bryan Sutton as a bluegrass/studio virtuoso or standing in the jamgrass shadow of Billy Strings. His flavor isn’t Grisman’s “Dawg music” (exactly) or another prog-grass supergroup like Strength in Numbers (though passages will remind fans of that seminal one-off all-star album and band). We’re hearing someone minted in rock and jazz with a passion for electronic and modern composed music on a journey in the new Nashville.
Newgrass and new acoustic music have been thriving for 50 years now, long enough that you think you’ve heard it all, until a Ben Garnett comes along to show us how much more there might be.
Ben Garnett & Skyler Hill - “Today Into Night”
Ben Garnett (left) and Skyler Hill play their composition “Today Into Night,” providing a close focus on Garnett’s organic playing technique.
This hollowbody has been with Jack since the '90s purring and howling onstage for hundreds of shows.
Kevin Gordon and his beloved ES-125, in earlier days.
Looking for new fuel for your sound and songs? Nashville’s Kevin Gordon found both in exploring traditional blues tunings and their variations.
I first heard open guitar tunings while in college, from older players who’d become friends or mentors, and from various artists playing at the Delta Blues Festival in the early mid-’80s, which was held in a fallow field in Freedom Village, Mississippi—whose topographical limits likely did not extend beyond said field.
I remember Jessie Mae Hemphill wearing a full-length leopard-print coat and black cowboy hat in the September heat, walking through the crowd selling 45s, and James “Son” Thomas singing his bawdy version of “Catfish Blues.” Also, an assembly of older gentlemen passing a pint bottle, all wearing vests with the name of their fraternal society sewn on the back: Dead Peckers Club.
I played in master minimalist Bo Ramsey’s band from 1988 to ’90. Living in Iowa City, attending grad school for poetry, weekend gigs with Bo were another equally important kind of education. He was the first guy I played in a band with who used open tunings. Nothing exotic: open G or open E, early Muddy Waters and Elmore James. Music I had loved since growing up in Louisiana. This was our bond, the music we both considered bedrock. Some of my first songs, written for that band, featured Bo on slide guitar.
I moved to Nashville in 1992, a city already populated with a few friends—some from Iowa, some from Louisiana. Buddy Flett was from Shreveport; I’d loved his playing since seeing him in the band A-Train in the early ’80s. We’d go eat catfish at Wendell Smith’s, and inevitably talk about songs. He’d achieved some success as a writer, working with fellow north Louisianan David Egan, employing his own kind of sleight-of-hand mystery in both G and D tunings.
In 1993, I found a guitar that would change my life and my songwriting: a scrappy Gibson ES-125 from 1956, standing in a corner of a friend’s apartment in Nashville, covered in dust. I asked if I could borrow it, for no particular reason other than to get it out of there so that it would be played. I wrote a song on it, in double drop-D tuning [D–A–D–G–B–D]. Not a great song, but it got me thinking about open strings and tunings again. I was looking for a way to play solo shows that reflected where I came from, and where the songs came from that I was writing.“The droning aspect of open tunings always appealed to me, and in the context of solo gigs, the big sound of octaves ringing out helped this insecure guitar player sound a little taller, wider . . . something.”
So, I put the guitar in open D [D–A–D–F#–A–D], put flatwounds on it, and started figuring out chord shapes (other than barring flat across) that I could use to play my songs, all of which at that point had been written and performed in standard tuning. I’d bought a ’64 Fender Princeton amp years before, when I was 19, but had never found a use for it until now: The 125 through the Princeton on about four was the sound. The droning aspect of open tunings always appealed to me, and in the context of solo gigs, the big sound of octaves ringing out helped this insecure guitar player sound a little taller, wider . . . something. The fingerings I came up with all seemed to mask the third of the scale—so you’d have a big sound which was neither major nor minor. And for my songs, it just felt right. By the time I recorded my second album for Shanachie, Down to the Well, in 1999, I was writing songs in open D (“Pueblo Dog”). For the next two albums, released in 2005 and 2012, the majority of the songs were written and performed live in open D, employing a capo when necessary.
As usual, the methods and habits developed while touring fed back into the writing and recording processes. For my latest release, The In Between, though, most of the songs were written and recorded in standard—“Simple Things,” “Tammy Cecile,” “Coming Up”—with some exceptions, including “Keeping My Brother Down,” “You Can’t Hurt Me No More,” and the title track, on which I play a ’50s Gibson electric tenor archtop in a peculiar tuning: C–G–C–G. Though I can’t say that open tunings make for better songs, they do help me hear chords differently, at times suggesting progressions that I wouldn’t normally think of. One song currently in-progress has these verse changes: VIm / I / VIm / I / VIm / I / II / II. In standard tuning, that VI would sound (to my ear) too bright. But because I’m writing it in open D, how I fret the VI sounds low and dark, appropriate for the lyric and melody, creating the right setting for the lines and story to unfold.
Left to right: Joe Lally. Brandan Canty, and Anthony Pirog
The bassist, now with the Messthetics, has had a long learning journey. Thanks to the online-lesson boom, you can study directly from Lally.
Although it’s been years since the beginning of the pandemic, many monumental things can still be explained in a single phrase: It all started because of Covid. One of those is that you can take online bass lessons from Joe Lally, bassist and co-founder of Fugazi, the unyieldingly indie post-hardcore band that raged out of Washington, DC’s ever-vibrant punk scene. From 1987 to 2003, over the band’s six studio albums, assorted EPs, and hundreds of live shows, Lally demonstrated his utter mastery of intense, full-throttle bass playing and writing.
So you might be surprised to learn that such an accomplished low-ender didn’t always feel confident about his own musical knowledge. “I spent all that time in Fugazi not formally being able to articulate about music very well with the other people in the band,” Joe says. “It was very frustrating at times. There were times I wanted to leave the band because it felt like I couldn’t even talk about what I wanted to do.”
It was only after Fugazi went on indefinite hiatus that, realizing he wanted to keep making music, Joe decided to get some education. “I took a few lessons at Flea’s school in L.A., the Silverlake Conservatory. I studied with Tree, the dean of the school, who showed me some things about songwriting on piano. I was looking at it like I was getting piano lessons, but really he was showing me the sound of major, the sound of minor, and the sound of the dominant 7 chord. Those three chords are the basic beginnings of learning music theory.”
As Joe learned it, the major sound was “Here, There, and Everywhere" by the Beatles, the minor was Santana’s “Evil Ways,” and the dominant 7 was “I Feel Good” by James Brown. “I learned to play those chord changes on piano, and came to understand more about songs and completing my own song ideas.”
Joe mainly learned by asking questions. “To a degree, that’s what I want people to get from the lessons I give,” he continues. “There’s so much you can go into theory-wise, but you don’t really need to to be able to write music, play music, and figure out other people’s music.”
Joe went on to write and release three solo albums, as well as two with Ataxia, his project with Red Hot Chili Pepper guitarists John Frusciante and Josh Klinghoffer. In 2016, he formed instrumental jazz-punk fusion trio the Messthetics with Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty and genre-spanning guitar virtuoso Anthony Pirog. They’ve since toured heavily and released three full lengths. He also joined Ian Mackaye—Fugazi’s and the Evens’s singer-guitarist—along with Evens drummer Amy Farina to form Coriky.
Lally’s humble online flyer.
“I foolishly never picked up a book because I thought it would ruin what I did know. When I told a friend I was teaching theory, he asked, ‘Has it ruined your playing yet?’”
When off the road, Joe worked different jobs in DC’s independent music scene to pay the bills. But when the pandemic lockdown came, he decided to start giving online lessons. He made flyers and posted them on social media.
“I’m not teaching formal theory, which I think is weird and abstract and doesn’t show people everything,” says Joe. “It takes years of learning formally to see how everything is connected to see how this thing is part of that other thing we learned years ago. Most of my students are adults who have been playing but now want to know more about what they’ve been doing.”
But music theory is something we all operate within, says Joe, whether we’re knowledgeable about it or not. “We are engaged in theory. We just may not know it. When you’re playing or writing a song, you might think ‘that note sounds right’ or ‘that note sounds wrong.’ It's because we are relating it to something in theory that we’ve picked up from all the music we’ve listened to.”
Joe recognizes that some people are apprehensive about learning music theory, and he admits that when he was in Fugazi, he was, too. “I foolishly never picked up a book because I thought it would ruin what I did know. When I told a friend I was teaching theory, he asked, ‘Has it ruined your playing yet?’
“But formal study should use your thinking mind, and when you play, you’re outside of thinking. Creativity is outside of thought. You hear about jazz players who practice scales over and over, and what they’re really practicing is the sounds of these things that they want to hear. But when they play, they let go of all of that. So I realized my playing is never going to change. I’m always going to write the way I wrote.”
To immerse yourself in Joe’s creative world, check out the Messthetics’s 2024 album, The Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis, which adds saxophonist Lewis to the trio, bringing together Fugazi’s powerful rhythm section with two players from the creative improv world.
To inquire about bass lessons with Joe Lally, contact him on Instagram at @joelally898.
Need more firepower? Here’s a collection of high-powered stomps that pack plenty of torque.
There’s a visceral feeling that goes along with really cranking the gain. Whether you’re using a clean amp or an already dirty setup, adding more gain can inspire you to play in an entirely different way. Below are a handful of pedals that can take you from classic crunch to death metal doom—and beyond.
Universal Audio UAFX Anti 1992 High Gain Amp Pedal
Early 1990s metal tones were iconic. The Anti 1992 offers that unique mix of overdrive and distortion in a feature-packed pedal. You get a 3-band EQ, noise gate, multiple cab and speaker combos, presets, and full control through the mobile app.
Revv G4 Red Channel Preamp/Overdrive/Distortion Pedal - Anniversary Edition
Based upon the red channel of the company’s Generator 120, this finely tuned circuit offers gain variation with its 3-position aggression switch.
MXR Yngwie Malmsteen Overdrive Pedal - Red
The Viking king of shred guitar has distilled his high-octane tone into a simple, two-knob overdrive. Designed for going into an already dirty amp, this stomp offers clarity, harmonics, and more.
Empress Effects Heavy Menace Distortion Pedal
Arguably the company’s most versatile dirt box, this iteration is all about EQ. It’s loaded with an immensely powerful 3-band EQ with a sweepable mid control, footswitchable noise gate, a low-end sculpting control, and three different distortion modes.
JHS Hard Drive Distortion Pedal - Tan
Designed by late JHS R&D engineer Cliff Smith, the Hard Drive is a powerful and heavy ode to the post-grunge sounds of the late ’90s and early ’00s. This original circuit takes inspiration from many places by including cascading gain stages and Baxandall bass and treble controls.
Boss HM-2W Waza Craft Heavy Metal Distortion Pedal
Few pedals captured the sound of Swedish death metal like the HM-2. The go-to setting is simple—all knobs maxed out. Flip over to the custom mode for more tonal range, higher gain, and thicker low end.
Electro-Harmonix Nano Metal Muff Distortion Pedal
Voiced with an aggressive, heavy tone with a tight low end, this pedal offers +/- 14 dB of bass, a powerful noise gate, and an LED to let you know when the gate is on.
Soldano Super Lead Overdrive Plus Pedal
Aimed to capture the sound of Mike Soldano’s flagship tube amp, the SLO uses the same cascading gain stages as the 100-watt head. It also has a side-mounted deep switch to add low-end punch.