With his Innocent Criminals back together for a new album, Call It What It Is, the lap slide guru talks about his roots, songwriting, collaboration, and the mysteries of reggae and Neil Young.
In 2008—after nearly a decade of making roots-based music go pop, and winning two Grammys along the way—the collective consciousness of Ben Harper and the Innocent Criminals had started to fade. Both personally and musically, the band was failing to evolve and grow. It was time for a change. So Harper focused more on his hard-rocking Relentless7 group along with some select solo projects.
Among those projects was a pair of albums that had been on Harper's list for a while. He paired up with an elder statesman of the blues, harmonica legend Charlie Musselwhite, for Get Up!, a fantastically authentic straight-up blues album that was as honest and well-executed as anything in either artist's catalog. Harper says that a sequel to the Grammy-winning collaboration is in the works. On the flip side, ChildhoodHome, a collection of tunes with his mother, Ellen, brought his sphere of influences full circle. “I don't think I would have even been ready to do it until a year or two ago," states Harper. “Of course, we all love our parents and we love our mom, but I just saw her clearly as a peer and as a person in a way that I hadn't up to that point. That album is a celebration of family."
In late 2014, Harper announced he was going to round up the Innocent Criminals for a run of shows at San Francisco's Fillmore. “I didn't want to pick up where we left off," he says. “I can't see the growth in that." But from the start it was obvious this wasn't a reunion with a goal of headlining the latest trendy festival. It became an evolution—maybe even a rebirth—of the group that truly put Harper on the map.
The eventual goal, even from the earliest sessions, was to create the next chapter rather than rehash the hits that brought the fans in. CallIt What It Is expands on the group's strengths, moving seamlessly between genres without a hint of irony or lack of conviction. The opening track, “When Sex Was Dirty," combines socially aware lyrics with a sing-along chorus, syncopated riffs, and a classic rock staple: the cowbell. “Outside the studio with the door closed, that cowbell would have still been too loud," says Harper. “That thing was cutting through every microphone." With “Shine," the bands tackles a modern Stax vibe stoked by keyboardist Jason Yates' infectiously perfect Rhodes grooves. And the varied beat goes on, with the Tom Waits-turns-country feel of the dark title track—a meditation on killings by police—and the garage-rock grind of “Pink Balloon."
Overall, the Innocent Criminals—which also includes percussionist Leon Mobley, bassist Juan Nelson, drummer Oliver Charles, and guitarist Michael Ward—is a rare musical outfit that is truly greater than the sum of its parts. The genre-hopping Criminals are simply true to themselves. “We don't have 10 songs of one genre; I never have," allows Harper. “When it's time to make a record, I have written songs in different styles whether they be blues, punk rock, soul, funk, or folk." During preparations for his 2016 tour, we caught up with Harper to discuss his life as a songwriter, how legendary amp guru Howard Dumble helped him discover his tone and tune up his pinball game, and why the Innocent Criminals have become his most effective creative outlet.
What was the vibe like back in '08 when you decided to take a break from the Innocent Criminals? Did you feel that era had run its course?
Yes. We hit a point with each other, with the music, with the creative process, that required us to get some distance from everything so we could actually see what it was that we had and were doing or not doing. But there was a little bit of personal running-in-place. It is hard to … How can I put this? It's hard to grow while you're not actually recognizing what you are growing towards. They are such monster players as well. I just think we had reached a point where maybe we were creating barriers for each other and not creating open roads and opportunities creatively.
Do you think it was more musical or personal?
I think it was both. There was some taking each other for granted and that's where it's hardest to grow. There was no other way but to take time off. I never said, “I am breaking up the Innocent Criminals." It was just time for all of us to do something different. It sure felt like a break-up, but it wasn't, and that is why we were able to remain in communication with each other. And it wasn't easy, that's for sure. It haunted me.
Throughout your career you've focused on writing songs for yourself. Obviously, that material is very personal. Have you ever had an interest in writing for other artists?
I mainly write for myself and the dialogues that I've been having with specific groups of people. There's this privilege to be able to grow together through music with people around the world. I feel so lucky for that. I have only written specifically for other artists a couple of times. I wrote a song for Taj Mahal. I wrote a song recently that is coming up on Mavis Staples' new record.
What does it feel like to hear another artist cover one of your songs?
It's the best feeling in the world. It actually makes you feel like a songwriter, which is great, because I do put a lot into the words. Some lyrics may seem deceptively simple, but they are edited down from a lot of pages of ideas. So when you hear someone actually cover one of your songs in the wild, it's just the best. I think any songwriter will tell you that. I have not grown immune to how exciting that is.
Why was it important to you to view this reunion with the Innocent Criminals as a new chapter?
I couldn't do 10 “Steal My Kisses." I couldn't do it. I have never done anything formulaic in my life. Every song and lyric I write, I mean. Every collaboration with the Innocent Criminals strikes as deep as we can. We leave no stone unturned and by the end of the process we are all exhausted. It's all about bringing forward our strongest material and taking risks. We have never played it safe as a band. We have always had polarizing songs and songs that somehow were different in genre, but there was a through-line in the way this band interprets different genres.
With the exception of a holy grail Overdrive Special amp by Howard Dumble, Ben Harper's rig is fairly simple, with a tuner, volume pedal, reverb/tremolo, overdrive, channel switcher, digital delay, and power unit on his pedalboard.
Photo by Adam Keely
This band's ability to fluently and authentically move between genres is remarkable.
It's the songs, man. I have every Ramones record. I have every Dead Kennedys record. Juan is the funk. Leon's roots are Africa, reggae. These are the influences of this band and the songs that we write and the way that we craft music. That is all we are going for. There have been a couple of times where, like the Get Up! album with Charlie Musselwhite, I've gone into my archive of blues material and the timing was right. Same with the Blind Boys of Alabama record [2004's collaborative There Will Be a Light]. Some of them, like the folk record with my mom—that took she and I both digging into our archive of songs in that style to put that record together. I wouldn't have had an entire record of folk music that I could actually publish, that I could be proud of, on my own. It's more about the songs that I have and picking the ones that I feel strongest about regardless of style.
Say for this record, I had 20 songs. We recorded a good number of them until we started to see the ones that were raising their hands the highest and sitting together the best. It's natural selection in the studio. The ones that stand up, stand up proud—and what starts to happen is you get sister songs. There is a song called “When Sex Was Dirty," which is a sister song to “Pink Balloon." There's a song called “Dance Like Fire," and that's a sister song to “Bones." “Goodbye to You" is percussively linked to “How Dark is Gone." All of a sudden, songs start to pair up with each other and that really helps in the sequence. It's a big risk this day and age to make an entire body of work that is eclectic because we are in the era of judging an artist by his song. That has been coming on year by year and now it is more prevalent than ever. Maybe it will be to my demise or maybe it will be my freaking calling card and strength. I am counting on it being a strength and I am counting on somehow people finding it as an entire body of work. Maybe it is just a pipe dream, I don't know.
As strongly as I believe in a body of work, still, it is time that people start honing the art of putting a body of work together. The days of 13-, 14-, 15-song albums are gone. Come up with a tight 10 or 11 songs and I think you will stand a better chance of introducing people to a larger body of work. Setting limits on yourself is a big part of making a record.
Is the hardest part of making an album the self-editing process?
It's so hard with this band, because we get emotionally attached to songs. We had a listening party of maybe 20 people, and Chris Rock was there. The final song on the record is “Goodbye to You." There used to be two songs after that. After that song he said, “That's it. Don't play another song. That's where this record needs to end." He was right. I felt great about the two songs after that, but Chris and Ethan Allen, who co-produced the album with the band, were right. Ethan is really the North Star, and those objective opinions kind of reeled us in.
Did you have songs ready for this album or did some of them come through rehearsals?
I wanted to see what it was going to sound and feel like when we got back together. I didn't want to pick up and just start rehearsing old material. I wanted to pick up where we had all grown to. Everybody got together for a week at the Village [studios] in Los Angeles. I presented a couple of new songs, and the way that the band just leaned into them, working off each other, it was something so different. I knew it was on. I just needed to get all of us in a room and move into that new direction. That week set the stage for the record and having the group back together and really having the time of our lives creatively.
Sitting down on the job is a requirement for Ben Harper, since he's best known for his lap slide guitar playing. But his fiery performances and songs that often explore social issues, like his new album's title track, keep his audience on its feet. Photo by Joe Russo
You spent your formative years around your family's music store in Claremont, California. Did you work on instruments?
I did. I was a bona fide luthier.
Is that something you keep up on?
In a word, no, but I do go out and work in my family's music store quite often, and it's always the best feeling to be back in the shop and having my hands on instruments. It also comes in handy on the road.
The acoustic Weissenborn guitar has become nearly synonymous with your style. Did you stumble upon it at your family's shop?
That was it. We were one of the rare stores that actually recognized them. People used to come in and, because they couldn't fret them, would try to play them like regular guitars. Imagine, in 1958, my grandparents actually recognizing that Wiessenborns were a unique contribution to the acoustic instrument pantheon. David Lindley got his first Weissenborn from my grandfather.
Ben Harper's Gear
Guitars
• Asher Ben Harper Signature Lap Steel
• 2010 Gibson Custom Shop Les Paul Special
• 1954 Fender Hardtail Stratocaster
• Martin HM Ben Harper Special Edition acoustic/electric
• Weissenborn Style 4 Lap Steel
Amps
• 2010 Dumble Overdrive Special
• Fender Princeton
Effects
• Strymon Flint Tremolo & Reverb
• Vox wah
• Hermida Audio Zendrive
• Electro-Harmonix #1 Echo digital delay
• Boss TU-3 tuner
• Ernie Ball volume pedal
• Voodoo Lab Pedal Power 2 Plus
Strings and Picks
• D'Addario EJ16 Phosphor Bronze Lights (.012–.053; acoustic)
• D'Addario EJ17 Phosphor Bronze Medium (.013–.056; lap steel)
• D'Addario EXL 115 Nickel Wounds (.011–.048: electric)
• Dunlop Picks
• Dunlop Ben Harper Signature Tone Bar
What specifically about that instrument spoke to you?
I don't know. I had every guitar at my fingertips. Although the guitars that I wanted to consider mine, my grandfather made me pay for, so I had to work them off. I've played Dobros, Nationals, Triolians, Duolians, Regals, and all the resonators. Everything from African koras to sitars were at my disposal. There was just something about that freaking Weissenborn. From the time I could hear it, I would just gravitate towards it. Some sounds are out there waiting for the player. Why would anyone want to play the tuba? I don't know, but people have devoted their lives to the tuba. There's a sound out there for everybody and that was the sound for me.
How do you wrestle with the Weissenborns at stage volumes?
I kinda stopped trying to force the Weissenborns up above the band. That's where Billy Asher [of Asher Guitars and Lap Steels] and I co-designed my lap steel. It's a hollowbody with a maple cap, like a Les Paul. It still has this hollow nature, but I don't have to struggle to get over the band. On certain songs I will still crank the Weissenborns up. It's always fun. I make sure I have it out for about a quarter of the set on the blues stuff, like “Homeless Child," “Welcome to the Cruel World," and “Give a Man a Home."
What tunings did you use on the album?
I am all over the map. Mainly versions of open D (D–A–D–F#–A–D) and “Spanish" G (D–G–D–G–B–D). I will take the open D tuning and move it down to C and then I will tune the Spanish G up to A or B. I will even go as high as F on a Weissenborn in the D tuning with lighter strings.
When did you get caught up in the sphere of Dumble amps?
From the time I was probably 9 years old onward, I grew up next door to David Lindley. David's daughter, Rosanne, and I were thick as thieves. Every once in awhile David and his band at the time, El Rayo-X, would have rehearsals at a place called the Alley. David would bring Rosanne and I to rehearsals. I was about 10 or 11 and was at a rehearsal playing the pinball machine. This super-generous dude was giving me pointers on how to shake the machine and how to get the best of it. It was Dumble. He and I first met huddled around a pinball machine. When I started really jumping into tone, would you believe that he remembered me from that? Dumble and I have been at it awhile.
How did you get your first Dumble?
He helped me put out feelers for people who had them for sale and I was able to get my hands on one pretty quickly. Then he actually brought me in and let me plug into his oscilloscope, which he rarely does anymore. He took notes on the frequency patterns of my instruments and he built an amp for the sounds that my instruments make. The only reason he charges so much is because the market has insisted. Otherwise he would charge $5,000 and someone would make $40,000 on his amps. He has no choice. Are Dumbles worth it? You listen to [David Lindley's version of] “Mercury Blues" and tell me whether or not it is worth it.
Are you a big pedal guy? Do you like to tinker with those?
I do, although I'm going for fewer pedals. Charlie Musselwhite will say, “Hey, man. Careful when you are using those pedals and calling it blues [laughs]." He will walk over and glance at my pedalboard and say, “How many of those you gonna use for the blues? How many you need?" So Charlie got me thinking about relinquishing all pedals. For now, it is real simple. I've got a [Hermida Audio] Zendrive, Strymon Flint, Electro-Harmonix delay, and that's about it.
“Finding Our Way" has such an authentic reggae groove. How did you learn about playing reggae guitar? Conceptually, it seems very simple, but it's quite difficult to get the right feel.
That skank. Oh man, it's nasty. First, it's just in me. Second, I have lived reggae music my entire life from Lee Perry and Ernest Ranglin to “Stepping Razor" and “Legalize It" by Peter Tosh. My dad took me to see Marley when I was 10, and it was a life-changing experience. The only way I have been able to illustrate what that skank means is to be in the studio and take it out of the mix. The bottom falls out. It's just this weird, mystic thing. I will never understand why Neil Young's G chord sounds so different than anyone else's in the world. I don't know man; it's the mystery of the guitar. It just pulls you in.
How collaborative is the band in the studio when it comes to creating parts?
This record is credited to the band, as far as production. Everybody was producing. It was magic. You would think it would be too many cooks in the kitchen. I've never been in such an ego-free environment. It made you want to try everyone's ideas even if you thought they were crazy. When someone was driving, like Oliver Charles on those drums, he took the lead. He knew what he wanted, he heard it in his head, and he found it. Sometimes production is patience, but it's also letting people find their way.
Might there be another hiatus in the future?
We won't do that again. There might be a couple of other side projects, but they would be in between Innocent Criminal projects, for sure.
What next thing on your list?
I'm going to leave you with this: instrumental album. [Luthier] John Monteleone. Acoustic lap steel.
YouTube It
Hermann Weissenborn's distinctive guitars are hollow-necked acoustics, and while Ben Harper can make them howl like Hendrix at Woodstock, this solo performance of the socially pointed title track of his new album, Call It What It Is, showcases the instrument's super-warm, amplified natural tone as well as Harper's fearless lyrics.
Throughout his over-30-year career, Keith Urban has been known more as a songwriter than a guitarist. Here, he shares about his new release, High, and sheds light on all that went into the path that led him to becoming one of today’s most celebrated country artists.
There are superstars of country and rock, chart-toppers, and guitar heroes. Then there’s Keith Urban. His two dozen No. 1 singles and boatloads of awards may not eclipse George Strait or Garth Brooks, but he’s steadily transcending the notion of what it means to be a country star.
He’s in the Songwriters Hall of Fame. He’s won 13 Country Music Association Awards, nine CMT video awards, eight ARIA (Australian Recording Industry Association) Awards, four American Music Awards, and racked up BMI Country Awards for 25 different singles.
He’s been a judge on American Idol and The Voice. In conjunction with Yamaha, he has his own brand of affordably priced Urban guitars and amps, and he has posted beginner guitar lessons on YouTube. His 2014 Academy of Country Music Award-winning video for “Highways Don’t Care” featured Tim McGraw and Keith’s former opening act, Taylor Swift. Add his marriage to fellow Aussie, the actress Nicole Kidman, and he’s seen enough red carpet to cover a football field.
Significantly, his four Grammys were all for Country Male Vocal Performance. A constant refrain among newcomers is, “and he’s a really good guitar player,” as if by surprise or an afterthought. Especially onstage, his chops are in full force. There are country elements, to be sure, but rock, blues, and pop influences like Mark Knopfler are front and center.
Unafraid to push the envelope, 2020’s The Speed of Now Part 1 mixed drum machines, processed vocals, and a duet with Pink with his “ganjo”—an instrument constructed of a 6-string guitar neck on a banjo body—and even a didgeridoo. It, too, shot to No. 1 on the Billboard Country chart and climbed to No. 7 on the Pop chart.
His new release, High, is more down-to-earth, but is not without a few wrinkles. He employs an EBow on “Messed Up As Me” and, on “Wildfire,” makes use of a sequencerreminiscent of ZZ Top’s “Legs.” Background vocals in “Straight Lines” imitate a horn section, and this time out he duets on “Go Home W U” with rising country star Lainey Wilson. The video for “Heart Like a Hometown” is full of home movies and family photos of a young Urban dwarfed by even a 3/4-size Suzuki nylon-string.
Born Keith Urbahn (his surname’s original spelling) in New Zealand, his family moved to Queensland, Australia, when he was 2. He took up guitar at 6, two years after receiving his beloved ukulele. He released his self-titled debut album in 1991 for the Australian-only market, and moved to Nashville two years later. It wasn’t until ’97 that he put out a group effort, fronting the Ranch, and another self-titled album marked his American debut as a leader, in ’99. It eventually went platinum—a pattern that’s become almost routine.
The 57-year-old’s celebrity and wealth were hard-earned and certainly a far cry from his humble beginnings. “Australia is a very working-class country, certainly when I was growing up, and I definitely come from working-class parents,” he details. “My dad loved all the American country artists, like Johnny Cash, Haggard, Waylon. He didn’t play professionally, but before he got married he played drums in a band, and my grandfather and uncles all played instruments.
One of Urban’s biggest influences as a young guitar player was Mark Knopfler, but he was also mesmerized by lesser-known session musicians such as Albert Lee, Ian Bairnson, Reggie Young, and Ray Flacke. Here, he’s playing a 1950 Broadcaster once owned by Waylon Jennings that was a gift from Nicole Kidman, his wife.
“For me, it was a mix of that and Top 40 radio, which at the time was much more diverse than it is now. You would just hear way more genres, and Australia itself had its own, what they call Aussie pub rock—very blue-collar, hard-driving music for the testosterone-fueled teenager. Grimy, sweaty, kind of raw themes.”
A memorable event happened when he was 7. “My dad got tickets for the whole family to see Johnny Cash. He even bought us little Western shirts and bolo ties. It was amazing.”
But the ukulele he was gifted a few years earlier, at the age of 4, became a constant companion. “I think to some degree it was my version of the stuffed animal, something that was mine, and I felt safe with it. My dad said I would strum it in time to all the songs on the radio, and he told my mom, ‘He’s got rhythm. I wonder what a good age is for him to learn chords.’ My mom and dad ran a little corner store, and a lady named Sue McCarthy asked if she could put an ad in the window offering guitar lessons. They said, ‘If you teach our kid for free, we’ll put your ad in the window.’”
Yet, guitar didn’t come without problems. “With the guitar, my fingers hurt like hell,” he laughs, “and I started conveniently leaving the house whenever the guitar teacher would show up. Typical kid. I don’t wanna learn, I just wanna be able to do it. It didn’t feel like any fun. My dad called me in and went, ‘What the hell? The teacher comes here for lessons. What’s the problem?’ I said I didn’t want to do it anymore. He just said, ‘Okay, then don’t do it.’ Kind of reverse psychology, right? So I just stayed with it and persevered. Once I learned a few chords, it was the same feeling when any of us learn how to be moving on a bike with two wheels and nobody holding us up. That’s what those first chords felt like in my hands.”
Keith Urban's Gear
Urban has 13 Country Music Association Awards, nine CMT video awards, eight ARIA Awards, and four Grammys to his name—the last of which are all for Best Country Male Vocal Performance.
Guitars
For touring:
- Maton Diesel Special
- Maton EBG808TE Tommy Emmanuel Signature
- 1957 Gibson Les Paul Junior, TV yellow
- 1959 Gibson ES-345 (with Varitone turned into a master volume)
- Fender 40th Anniversary Tele, “Clarence”
- Two first-generation Fender Eric Clapton Stratocasters (One is black with DiMarzio Area ’67 pickups, standard tuning. The other is pewter gray, loaded with Fralin “real ’54” pickups, tuned down a half-step.)
- John Bolin Telecaster (has a Babicz bridge with a single humbucker and a single volume control. Standard tuning.)
- PRS Paul’s Guitar (with two of their narrowfield humbuckers. Standard tuning.)
- Yamaha Keith Urban Acoustic Guitar (with EMG ACS soundhole pickups)
- Deering “ganjo”
Amps
- Mid-’60s black-panel Fender Showman (modified by Chris Miller, with oversized transformers to power 6550 tubes; 130 watts)
- 100-watt Dumble Overdrive Special (built with reverb included)
- Two Pacific Woodworks 1x12 ported cabinets (Both are loaded with EV BlackLabel Zakk Wylde signature speakers and can handle 300 watts each.)
Effects
- Two Boss SD-1W Waza Craft Super Overdrives with different settings
- Mr. Black SuperMoon Chrome
- FXengineering RAF Mirage Compressor
- Ibanez TS9 with Tamura Mod
- Boss BD-2 Blues Driver
- J. Rockett Audio .45 Caliber Overdrive
- Pro Co RAT 2
- Radial Engineering JX44 (for guitar distribution)
- Fractal Audio Axe-Fx XL+ (for acoustic guitars)
- Two Fractal Audio Axe-Fx III (one for electric guitar, one for bass)
- Bricasti Design Model 7 Stereo Reverb Processor
- RJM Effect Gizmo (for pedal loops)
(Note: All delays, reverb, chorus, etc. is done post amp. The signal is captured with microphones first then processed by Axe-Fx and other gear.)
- Shure Axient Digital Wireless Microphone System
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario NYXL (.011–.049; electric)
- D’Addario EJ16 (.012–.053; acoustics)
- D’Addario EJ16, for ganjo (.012–.053; much thicker than a typical banjo strings)
- D’Addario 1.0 mm signature picks
He vividly remembers the first song he was able to play after “corny songs like ‘Mama’s little baby loves shortnin’ bread.’” He recalls, “There was a song I loved by the Stylistics, ‘You Make Me Feel Brand New.’ My guitar teacher brought in the sheet music, so not only did I have the words, but above them were the chords. I strummed the first chord, and went, [sings E to Am] ‘My love,’ and then minor, ‘I'll never find the words, my,’ back to the original chord, ‘love.’ Even now, I get covered in chills thinking what it felt like to sing and put that chord sequence together.”
After the nylon-string Suzuki, he got his first electric at 9. “It was an Ibanez copy of a Telecaster Custom—the classic dark walnut with the mother-of-pearl pickguard. My first Fender was a Stratocaster. I wanted one so badly. I’d just discovered Mark Knopfler, and I only wanted a red Strat, because that’s what Knopfler had. And he had a red Strat because of Hank Marvin. All roads lead to Hank!”
He clarifies, “Remember a short-lived run of guitar that Fender did around 1980–’81, simply called ‘the Strat’? I got talked into buying one of those, and the thing weighed a ton. Ridiculously heavy. But I was just smitten when it arrived. ‘Sultans of Swing’ was the first thing I played on it. ‘Oh my god! I sound a bit like Mark.’”
“Messed Up As Me” has some licks reminiscent of Knopfler. “I think he influenced a huge amount of my fingerpicking and melodic choices. I devoured those records more than any other guitar player. ‘Tunnel of Love,’ ‘Love over Gold,’ ‘Telegraph Road,’ the first Dire Straits album, and Communique. I was spellbound by Mark’s touch, tone, and melodic choice every time.”
Other influences are more obscure. “There were lots of session guitar players whose solos I was loving, but had no clue who they were,” he explains. “A good example was Ian Bairnson in the Scottish band Pilot and the Alan Parsons Project. It was only in the last handful of years that I stumbled upon him and did a deep dive, and realized he played the solo on ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush, ‘Eye in the Sky’ by Alan Parsons, ‘It’s Magic’ and ‘January’ by Pilot’—all these songs that spoke to me growing up. I also feel like a lot of local-band guitar players are inspirations—they certainly were to me. They didn’t have a name, the band wasn’t famous, but when you’re 12 or 13, watching Barry Clough and guys in cover bands, it’s, ‘Man, I wish I could play like that.’”
On High, Urban keeps things song-oriented, playing short and economical solos.
In terms of country guitarists, he nods, “Again, a lot of session players whose names I didn’t know, like Reggie Young. The first names I think would be Albert Lee and Ray Flacke, whose chicken pickin’ stuff on the Ricky Skaggs records became a big influence. ‘How is he doing that?’”
Flacke played a role in a humorous juxtaposition. “I camped out to see Iron Maiden,” Urban recounts. “They’d just put out Number of the Beast, and I was a big fan. I was 15, so my hormones were raging. I’d been playing country since I was 6, 7, 8 years old. But this new heavy-metal thing is totally speaking to me. So I joined a heavy metal band called Fractured Mirror, just as their guitar player. At the same time, I also discovered Ricky Skaggs and Highways and Heartaches. What is this chicken pickin’ thing? One night I was in the metal band, doing a Judas Priest song or Saxon. They threw me a solo, and through my red Strat, plugged into a Marshall stack that belonged to the lead singer, I shredded this high-distortion, chicken pickin’ solo. The lead singer looked at me like, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I got fired from the band.”
Although at 15 he “floated around different kinds of music and bands,” when he was 21 he saw John Mellencamp. “He’d just put out Lonesome Jubilee. I’d been in bands covering ‘Hurts So Good,' ‘Jack & Diane,’ and all the early shit. This record had fiddle and mandolin and acoustic guitars, wall of electrics, drums—the most amazing fusion of things. I saw that concert, and this epiphany happened so profoundly. I looked at the stage and thought, ‘Whoa! I get it. You take all your influences and make your own thing. That’s what John did. I’m not gonna think about genre; I’m gonna take all the things I love and find my way.’
“Of course, getting to Nashville with that recipe wasn’t going to fly in 1993,” he laughs. “Took me another seven-plus years to really start getting some traction in that town.”
Urban’s main amp today is a Dumble Overdrive Reverb, which used to belong to John Mayer. He also owns a bass amp that Alexander Dumble built for himself.
Photo by Jim Summaria
When it comes to “crossover” in country music, one thinks of Glen Campbell, Kenny Rogers, Garth Brooks, and Dolly Parton’s more commercial singles like “Two Doors Down.” Regarding the often polarizing subject and, indeed, what constitutes country music, it’s obvious that Urban has thought a lot—and probably been asked a lot—about the syndrome. The Speed of Now Part 1 blurs so many lines, it makes Shania Twain sound like Mother Maybelle Carter. Well, almost.
“I can’t speak for any other artists, but to me, it’s always organic,” he begins. “Anybody that’s ever seen me play live would notice that I cover a huge stylistic field of music, incorporating my influences, from country, Top 40, rock, pop, soft rock, bluegrass, real country. That’s how you get songs like ‘Kiss a Girl’—maybe more ’70s influence than anything else.”
“I think [Mark Knopfler] influenced a huge amount of my fingerpicking and melodic choices. I devoured those records more than any other guitar player.”
Citing ’50s producers Chet Atkins and Owen Bradley, who moved the genre from hillbilly to the more sophisticated countrypolitan, Keith argues, “In the history of country music, this is exactly the same as it has always been. Patsy Cline doing ‘Walking After Midnight’ or ‘Crazy’; it ain’t Bob Wills. It ain’t Hank Williams. It’s a new sound, drawing on pop elements. That’s the 1950s, and it has never changed. I’ve always seen country like a lung, that expands outwards because it embraces new sounds, new artists, new fusions, to find a bigger audience. Then it feels, ‘We’ve lost our way. Holy crap, I don’t even know who we are,’ and it shrinks back down again. Because a purist in the traditional sense comes along, whether it be Ricky Skaggs or Randy Travis. The only thing that I think has changed is there’s portals now for everything, which didn’t used to exist. There isn’t one central control area that would yell at everybody, ‘You’ve got to bring it back to the center.’ I don’t know that we have that center anymore.”
Stating his position regarding the current crop of talent, he reflects, “To someone who says, ‘That’s not country music,’ I always go, “‘It’s not your country music; it’s somebody else’s country music.’ I don’t believe anybody has a right to say something’s not anything. It’s been amazing watching this generation actually say, ‘Can we get back to a bit of purity? Can we get real guitars and real storytelling?’ So you’ve seen the explosion of Zach Bryan and Tyler Childers who are way purer than the previous generation of country music.”
Seen performing here in 2003, Urban is celebrated mostly for his songwriting, but is also an excellent guitarist.
Photo by Steve Trager/Frank White Photo Agency
As for the actual recording process, he notes, “This always shocks people, but ‘Chattahoochee’ by Alan Jackson is all drum machine. I write songs on acoustic guitar and drum machine, or drum machine and banjo. Of course, you go into the studio and replace that with a drummer. But my very first official single, in 1999, was ‘It’s a Love Thing,’ and it literally opens with a drum loop and an acoustic guitar riff. Then the drummer comes in. But the loop never goes away, and you hear it crystal clear. I haven’t changed much about that approach.”
On the road, Urban utilizes different electrics “almost always because of different pickups—single-coil, humbucker, P-90. And then one that’s tuned down a half-step for a few songs in half-keys. Tele, Strat, Les Paul, a couple of others for color. I’ve got a John Bolin guitar that I love—the feel of it. It’s a Tele design with just one PAF, one volume knob, no tone control. It’s very light, beautifully balanced—every string, every fret, all the way up the neck. It doesn’t have a lot of tonal character of its own, so it lets my fingers do the coloring. You can feel the fingerprints of Billy Gibbons on this guitar. It’s very Billy.”
“I looked at the stage and thought, ‘Whoa! I get it. You take all your influences and make your own thing. I’m gonna take all the things I love and find my way.’”
Addressing his role as the collector, “or acquirer,” as he says, some pieces have quite a history. “I haven’t gone out specifically thinking, ‘I’m missing this from the collection.’ I feel really lucky to have a couple of very special guitars. I got Waylon Jennings’ guitar in an auction. It was one he had all through the ’70s, wrapped in the leather and the whole thing. In the ’80s, he gave it to Reggie Young, who owned it for 25 years or so and eventually put it up for auction. My wife wanted to give it to me for my birthday. I was trying to bid on it, and she made sure that I couldn’t get registered! When it arrived, I discovered it’s a 1950 Broadcaster—which is insane. I had no idea. I just wanted it because I’m a massive Waylon fan, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that guitar disappearing overseas under somebody’s bed, when it should be played.
“I also have a 1951 Nocaster, which used to belong to Tom Keifer in Cinderella. It’s the best Telecaster I’ve ever played, hands down. It has the loudest, most ferocious pickup, and the wood is amazing.”
YouTube
Urban plays a Gibson SG here at the 2023 CMT Music Awards. Wait until the end to see him show off his shred abilities.
Other favorites include “a first-year Strat, ’54, that I love, and a ’58 goldtop. I also own a ’58 ’burst, but prefer the goldtop; it’s just a bit more spanky and lively. I feel abundantly blessed with the guitars I’ve been able to own and play. And I think every guitar should be played, literally. There’s no guitar that’s too precious to be played.”
Speaking of precious, there are also a few Dumble amps that elicit “oohs” and “aahs.” “Around 2008, John Mayer had a few of them, and he wanted to part with this particular Overdrive Special head. When he told me the price, I said, ‘That sounds ludicrous.’ He said, ‘How much is your most expensive guitar?’ It was three times the value of the amp. He said, ‘So that’s one guitar. What amp are you plugging all these expensive guitars into?’ I was like, ‘Sold. I guess when you look at it that way.’ It’s just glorious. It actually highlighted some limitations in some guitars I never noticed before.”
“It’s just glorious. It actually highlighted some limitations in some guitars I never noticed before.”
Keith also developed a relationship with the late Alexander Dumble. “We emailed back and forth, a lot of just life stuff and the beautifully eccentric stuff he was known for. His vocabulary was as interesting as his tubes and harmonic understanding. My one regret is that he invited me out to the ranch many times, and I was never able to go. Right now, my main amp is an Overdrive Reverb that also used to belong to John when he was doing the John Mayer Trio. I got it years later. And I have an Odyssey, which was Alexander’s personal bass amp that he built for himself. I sent all the details to him, and he said, ‘Yeah, that’s my amp.’”
The gearhead in Keith doesn’t even mind minutiae like picks and strings. “I’ve never held picks with the pointy bit hitting the string. I have custom picks that D’Addario makes for me. They have little grippy ridges like on Dunlops and Hercos, but I have that section just placed in one corner. I can use a little bit of it on the string, or I can flip it over. During the pandemic, I decided to go down a couple of string gauges. I was getting comfortable on .009s, and I thought, ‘Great. I’ve lightened up my playing.’ Then the very first gig, I was bending the crap out of them. So I went to .010s, except for a couple of guitars that are .011s.”
As with his best albums, High is song-oriented; thus, solos are short and economical. “Growing up, I listened to songs where the guitar was just in support of that song,” he reasons. “If the song needs a two-bar break, and then you want to hear the next vocal section, that’s what it needs. If it sounds like it needs a longer guitar section, then that’s what it needs. There’s even a track called ‘Love Is Hard’ that doesn’t have any solo. It’s the first thing I’ve ever recorded in my life where I literally don’t play one instrument. Eren Cannata co-wrote it [with Shane McAnally and Justin Tranter], and I really loved the demo with him playing all the instruments. I loved it so much I just went with his acoustic guitar. I’m that much in service of the song.”
Big time processing power in a reverb that you can explore for a lifetime.
An astoundingly lush and versatile reverb of incredible depth and flexibility. New and older BigSky algorithms included. More elegant control layout and better screen.
It’s pricey and getting the full use out of it takes some time and effort.
$679
Strymon BigSky MX
strymon.net
Strymon calls the BigSky MX pedal “one reverb to rule them all.” Yep, that’s a riff on something we’ve heard before, but in this case it might be hard to argue. In updating what was already one of the market’s most comprehensive and versatile reverbs, Strymon has created a reverb pedal that will take some players a lifetime to fully explore. That process is likely to be tons of fun, too.
Grinding out impressive DSP power via an 800 MHz tri-core ARM processor with 32-bit floating-point processing, the BigSky MX introduces seven brand-new reverb algorithms, allows users to load any compatible convolution reverb (or impulse response) as well as to use two reverbs simultaneously—in series, parallel, and split—plus it delivers several other mind-bending features. Given this wealth of goodies, it’s impossible to test and discuss every sound and function, but what we heard is exciting.
Infinite Space
The updated MX will look very familiar to those who know the original BigSky. The form factor is nearly identical, though the MX is a bit larger. Its control interface is similar too, albeit rearranged into a single row of knobs that looks more balanced. Rotary controls include decay, pre-delay, tone, mod, parameter 1, parameter 2, and mix. A value knob enables effect-level manipulation on the larger, clearer OLED screen. It also allows you to select between the older or “classic” algorithms from the original BigSky and the seven new ones. Three footswitches allow for preset selection, bank up or down (two switches pressed together), and an infinite hold/sustain switch that’s always available. The rotary “type” knob in the upper-left corner spins between 12 basic reverb voices. As with most things Strymon, many of these controls are multi-function.
Also very Strymon-like are the top-mounted, 5-pin DIN MIDI I/O connections, which come in handy if you want to maximize the pedal’s potential in a MIDI-controlled rig. But you can access more than enough right from the pedal itself to satisfy the needs of most standard pedalboard-based setups. A USB-C port enables computer connection for MIDI control via that route, use of the Nixie 2 editing app, or firmware updates.
There are stereo jacks for both input and output, plus a multi-function 1/4" TRS/MIDI expression jack for use with a further range of external controllers. The standard center-negative power jack requires a DC supply offering at least 500 mA of current draw.
It is utterly hypnotic and addictive once you settle in and work a little more intuitively.
Sky’s the Limit
The BigSky MX was, initially, a bit mind-boggling on account of the seemingly endless possibilities. But it is utterly hypnotic and addictive once you settle in and work a little more intuitively. Suffice it to say, the core quality of the reverb sounds themselves are excellent, and the sheer variety is astounding. Beyond the standard emulations, I really dug several permutations of the cloud reverb, the chorale mode (which adds tenor and baritone harmonizing tones), and bloom mode (which generates deep synthesizer-style pads), and I could have gotten lost in any of these for hours if there wasn’t so much more to explore. Among the highlights: There is now an option to pan reverbs across the stereo field. The MX also uses audio design concepts borrowed from tape delays to create rhythmic pattern-based reverbs, which is an excellent compositional tool.
The Verdict
This latest evolution of the already impressive and super-capable BigSky is the kind of pedal that could cause you to disappear into your basement studio, never to return. The sounds are addictive and varied and can be configured in endless creative ways. The programmability and connectivity are also superb. Additionally, the new algorithms weren’t added at expense of the old BigSky algos. There’s no doubt that it will be flat-out too much horsepower for the guitarist that needs a few traditional sounds and, perhaps, a few more spacious options. And it would be interesting to know what percentage of the pedal’s customers end up being synth artists, engineers, or sound designers of one kind or another. If you’re the kind of guitar player that enjoys stretching the sound and capabilities of your instrument as far as they will go, the BlueSky MX will gladly ride along to the bounds of your imagination. It may test the bounds of your budget, too. But in many ways, the BigSky MX is as much a piece of outboard studio gear as a stompbox, and if you’re willing to invest the time, the BigSky MX has the goods to pay you back.
“The Player II Series represents our continued evolution in design and functionality,” said Justin Norvell, EVP of Product, FMIC. “We listened to the feedback from musicians around the world and incorporated their insights to refine and innovate our instruments. The re-introduction of rosewood fingerboards is a restoration of the ‘original Fender recipe’ and will no doubt be a fan favorite - but we didn’t want to stop there. We’ve also incorporated our rolled fingerboard edges for a broken-in feel, upgraded hardware, and have some new body options as well- which underscores our commitment to providing players and creators with the tools they need to express their unique sound and style. The Player II Series is not just an upgrade, it's a detailed re-imagining of our core silhouettes, highlighting our dedication to quality and the continuous refinement of our instruments.”
Additionally, Player II offers new options for chambered ash and chambered mahogany bodies for the Player II Stratocaster and Telecaster models, which will be available in October. Designed for musicians ready to elevate their craft, the Player II Series sets a new standard for quality and performance in the mid-price range.
Fender Player II Stratocaster HSS Electric Guitar - Coral Red
Player II Strat HSS RW, Coral RedFender Player II Jaguar Electric Guitar - Aquatone Blue
Player II Jaguar RF, Aquatone BlueThis reader solicited the help of his friend, luthier Dale Nielsen, to design the perfect guitar as a 40th-birthday gift to himself.
This is really about a guy in northern Minnesota named Dale Nielsen, who I met when I moved up there in 2008 and needed somebody to reglue the bridge on my beloved first guitar (a 1992 Charvel 625c, plywood special). Dale is a luthier in his spare time—a Fender certified, maker of jazz boxes.
Anyway, we became friends and I started working on him pretty early—my 40th birthday was approaching, and that meant it was time for us to start designing his first solidbody build. If you stopped on this page, it’s because the photo of the finished product caught your eye. Beautiful, right? The 2018 CCL Deco Custom: Never shall there be another.
Old National Glenwood guitars were my design inspiration, but I wanted a slim waist like a PRS and the like. We used a solid block of korina to start, routed like MacGyver to get the knobs and switches where I wanted them. Dale builds all his own lathes and machines (usually out of lumber, y’all), as the task requires. This beast took some creativity—it’s tight wiring under that custom-steel pickguard. Many were the preliminary sketches. Four coats of Pelham blue, 11 coats of nitro. Honduran mahogany neck, Madagascar ebony fretboard with Dale’s signature not-quite-Super-400 inlays. He designed the logo; I just said, “Make it art deco.”
We sourced all the bits and bobs from StewMac and Allparts and Reverb and the like, mostly to get that chrome look I so adore. Graph Tech Ratio tuners, Duesenberg Radiator trem (had to order that one from Germany), TonePros TP6R-C roller bridge. The pickups were a genius suggestion from the builder, Guitarfetish plug ’n’ play 1/8" solderless swappable, which means I have about 10 pickups in the case to choose from: rockabilly to metal. And both slots are tapped, with the tone knobs serving as single- to double-coil switches. I put the selector on the lower horn to accommodate my tendency to accidentally flip the thing on Les Pauls—definite lifesaver.
Reader and guitar enthusiast, Cody Lindsey.
Dale offered to chamber this monster, but I said what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. It weighs in at 11 pounds, if it’s an ounce. We carved the neck to match a ’60s SG, so it’s like the mini bat you get at the ballpark on little kids’ day. Easy peasy. 1 11/16" nut, 25" scale, jumbo frets, just 2 1/8" at the 12th fret.
Delivery in its lovely, hygrometer-equipped Cedar Creek case actually happened a month or two shy of my 41st, but hey, you can’t rush these things. We ended up with a studio Swiss Army knife; it does a bit of everything and does it effortlessly. A looker, too. Dale didn’t spend his career doing this kind of thing—he was in IT or some such—and I imagine he’s winding this “hobby” of his down these days, enjoying retirement with a bottle of Killian’s and a lawn chair at Duluth Blues Fest. But this guitar will live on as a marker of his skill and otherworldly patience. It sits at the head of the class in my practice room, welcoming any visitors and bringing a smile to my face every day. And Dale, my friend, I’ll be 50 before you know it....
Cody requested that Dale design an art deco logo for the guitar’s headstock.