
In high cotton: Charlie Musselwhite is thoroughly content with his return to the Delta. “We love living here,” he says. “It just makes sense, and it feels like the blues is alive and well in the Delta and you can just feel it rising up from the earth, it’s so present.”
On his new album, Mississippi Son, the harmonica giant steps out on guitar, evoking the legends of country blues 6-string and earning his place among them.
For Charlie Musselwhite, the blues isn’t just a style of music. It’s a sacrament. And Musselwhite is one of its high priests. With a palmful of bent notes on the harmonica—the instrument on which he’s been an acknowledged master for more than a half-century—or the fat snap of a guitar string, he has the power to summon not only the blues’ great spirits, but the places they rose from. If you listen closely, you can envision the Mississippi Delta’s plantation lands, where the summer sun forms a shimmering belt on the low horizon and even a slight breeze can paint your face red with clay dust. It’s a place both old and eternal—full of mystery and history and magic. And the music from that place, as Musselwhite sings in his new song “Blues Gave Me a Ride,” “tells the truth in a world full of lies.”
“Blues is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to play,” says Musselwhite, who is 78. “It’s more than just another kind of music. Whatever life throws at you, blues is there for you. It’s your buddy when you’re up and your comforter when you’re down, and it’s got this depth and substance that a lot of other music just doesn’t have. So, in that way, it has a sort of spiritual quality, and it really can be your partner in life. It gives you a way to go.”
Although Musselwhite’s parents moved him to Memphis from his native Kosciusko, Mississippi, when he was 3, the blues has, indeed, seemed to be his guiding hand ever since. Most recently, it’s led him to record Mississippi Son, the first of his more than 40 albums that is built around his guitar playing—spare as a skeleton’s rib cage, but as beautiful as a fresh magnolia blossom with hints of dust on its petals.
Charlie Musselwhite - Mississippi Son (Full Album) 2022
Slowly, over the past few decades, Musselwhite has been incorporating guitar into his live performances—sometimes in duets with his longtime compadre Elvin Bishop, who he met in Chicago in the early ’60s, just before integrated blues bands like those they would join and form began making mainstream albums. “Charlie’s guitar playing is way good,” says Bishop. “I really love the way he nails the old deep blues, the country blues. He only plays what’s necessary, and every note has nuance. His tone is dark and deep. He can play slide like Robert Nighthawk, and what Charlie does on the guitar has a good emotional effect on his music. It’s perfect for his singing and harp playing.”
Musselwhite’s life with the guitar and harmonica began when he was around 13. With an acoustic Supertone in hand, he discovered the E7 chord and the old-school Delta sound and began to learn songs like Mississippi Son’s “Pea Vine Blues.” With lyrics that illuminate how the lonesome sound of a distant train whistle can torture the brokenhearted, the song is prime country blues, first recorded by Charley Patton in 1929.
“At some point I remember coming to the realization that every culture probably has its music of lament.”
Luckily, Musselwhite had more than old shellac 78s to learn from. During his teenage and young adult years in Memphis, legendary artists like Furry Lewis, who by then swept Beale Street for a living, and Will Shade, the leader of the Memphis Jug Band, became mentors, cementing his love of the rural blues sound.
“I learned more about slide and open tunings from Furry, and regular tuning and harmonica from Will Shade,” Musselwhite says. He also met harmonica legend Big Walter Horton—a fellow acolyte of Shade’s—in Memphis, and Musselwhite would continue to be under Horton’s sway when he moved to Chicago in the late 1950s. Lesser-known artists like Willie Borum and Earl Bell were also part of Musselwhite’s education in the Bluff City. “I had no idea I was preparing myself for a career,” he says, chuckling. “I would have paid a lot more attention. I was just having fun. And I loved the blues and had to play it, but I didn’t know it was going to become my life and put me on the road.”
Out in front of Clarksdale, Mississippi’s Shack Up Inn, Charlie Musselwhite displays his Harmony Bobkat and steel slide, worn tight on his pinky.
Photo by Rory Doyle
Musselwhite left Memphis for practical reasons. “I’d been working around Memphis, doing construction work and different factory jobs and stuff, and the pay was so low, so I had done a little moonshining on the side, and one day I noticed the police were following me. I thought that was a bad sign. I’d been thinking about going to Chicago, because friends of mine had gone up and gotten jobs in these factories, and they’d come back to visit driving brand new cars ’cause they got paid so much better—and they had benefits. I’d never even heard of benefits before, so that’s why I went to Chicago—just like thousands of other people getting out of the South because it was economically depressed. I was looking for a better life.”
He found that, and a lot more. “I knew nothing about the blues scene there,” he continues. “I’d been told that anybody in the entertainment field either lived in Hollywood or New York City, and even though I had all these records that had Chicago written on ’em, with Vee-Jay and Chess labels, I thought, ‘Well, that’s just where they manufacture the records.’ I didn’t know that’s where all these guys lived. But lucky for me the first job I got in Chicago was as a driver for an exterminator, and I drove him all over Chicago, so I learned the city really well, really fast. Driving around, I started seeing posters and signs for guys like Muddy Waters and Elmore James, and I couldn’t believe it! All my heroes were right here in Chicago! So, I’d make a note of where these clubs were and at night I’d be hanging out listening to live blues right in front of my heroes that I only had records of before.”
For a spell, he lived in the basement of the now-historic Jazz Record Mart music shop, where he also occasionally worked, with the irascible 9-string-playing bluesman Big Joe Williams as his roommate. “Oh boy, you never knew what was going to happen,” Musselwhite offers. “We had a great time. I really wish I’d written down the stories that he told me. We’d go around town visiting friends and relatives, just like I did with Shakey—which is what they called Big Walter in Chicago—always looking for a little taste. That was kind of a common hobby among many of the older blues guys, and often we’d sit up late at night just drinking beer and Joe would be playing guitar and I would be playing harmonica with him, and he just seemed to enjoy doing that, so it was awful encouraging. I picked up little tips on his playing. Occasionally I’d pick up his guitar to try to play it, but, man, the strings were like cables. It was hard to even fret it, but he would play it like it was butter.”
Musselwhite and his manager and wife, Henrietta, have lived and learned in the court of blues royalty. The other gents in this photo are Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker.
Photo courtesy of Charlie Musselwhite
Williams’ guitar—albeit reduced to its original 6-string setup—makes a cameo on Mississippi Son, on “Remembering Big Joe,” an instrumental reflecting the savvy gutbucket style of the bluesman noted for the first recordings of “Baby Please Don’t Go” and “Crawling King Snake.”
“I just played off the top of my head, thinking about Big Joe, and that’s what came out,” says Musselwhite. “That’s what I remember him sounding like.”
In Chicago, Mussselwhite also had access to the canonical harmonica players of electric blues: Horton, Little Walter, Sonny Boy Williamson II, and his fellow young trailblazer, Paul Butterfield. And by the mid-’60s, Musselwhite’s own mojo was working. In 1965, he met producer Samuel Charters, who was making his influential Chicago/The Blues/Today! trilogy of recordings. Billed as Memphis Charlie, Musselwhite appeared with the Big Walter Blues Harp Band on the third volume. Later that year, Musselwhite played on John Hammond Jr.’s So Many Roads album, and a session of his own with Charters yielded 1967’s Stand Back! Here Comes Charley Musselwhite’s Southside Band.
Charlie Musselwhite’s Gear on 'Mississippi Son':
Back home in the Delta, Charlie Musselwhite plucks a Harmony Bobkat as he sits on the porch of a former sharecropper’s residence at a Clarksdale, Mississippi, hotel compound called the Shack Up Inn, where his live 2012 Juke Joint Chapel album was recorded.
Photo by Rory Doyle
Guitars
- Vintage Gibson L-4
- Harmony Bobkat
- 1967 Silvertone solidbody
- 1954 Gibson J-45
- Vintage Gibson L-7
Amps
- Laney A3012
Strings & Slide
- .011-gauge sets
- Steel slide
As luck, or, perhaps, the blues’ guiding hand, had it, the album arrived when freeform FM radio was an emergent force in American music and Musselwhite’s reputation spread throughout the country. Riding this acclaim, he relocated to San Francisco, where his bona fide sound was embraced by the rock counterculture scene anchored at the Fillmore West.
Since then, Musselwhite’s star has burned. At times more brightly than others, but he has consistently toured and recorded and remained not only in the eyes and ears of blues fans, but in the general music loving public’s. It’s not just a matter of his excellence—his ability to blow pure soul through his main axe’s tiny reeds. Musselwhite, despite his devotion to bone-deep blues, is no purist. Over the decades he’s collaborated and made albums with Bonnie Raitt, Flaco Jiménez, the Blind Boys of Alabama, John Lee Hooker, and Ben Harper, exploring jazz, gospel, Tex-Mex, Cuban, and other world musics.
“I discovered that a lot of music—flamenco, Greek, Arabic—has a sound or feel that reminds me of blues,” Musselwhite observes. “It’s got the same kind of heart— especially flamenco. If it ain’t blues, I don’t know what it is. It has that spirit, that same energy. At some point I remember coming to the realization that every culture probably has its music of lament. And there’s a guy on the corner singing about ‘my baby left me’ wherever you go in the world.”
“Every now and then I’d sneak in a track on an album where I was playing guitar. A lot of people never even realized it was me.”
Musselwhite has also hosted a series of world-class guitar players in his bands, from Harvey Mandel and Robben Ford in the ’60s, to Matthew Stubbs and Kirk Fletcher in recent years. “Every now and then I’d sneak in a track on an album where I was playing guitar,” Musselwhite says. “A lot of people never even realized it was me.”
Now, with Mississippi Son, the feline is out of the flour sack. And Musselwhite is back in his native state. He and his wife and manager, Henrietta, purchased a home in the blues mecca of Clarksdale, Mississippi, some years ago, but in 2021 they departed the West Coast to take up permanent residence in the small Delta burg with a downtown that looks frozen in 1966. In Clarksdale, Musselwhite befriended guitarist, songwriter, and producer Gary Vincent, and in 2012 Vincent produced Musselwhite’s live Juke Joint Chapel, at the hip local venue bearing that name.
This time, they regrouped in Vincent’s downtown studio, Clarksdale Soundstage. “With the pandemic, I had all this time on my hands, and Gary’s studio is three blocks from me. He’s got a ton of guitars, so I spent a lot of time over there playing them. At one point, he said, ‘Ya know, we should tape some of these.’ I said, ‘Yeah, go ahead.’ So, the album started spontaneously. We were just recording tunes for posterity.”
With a borrowed white Stratocaster, Musselwhite evokes the old school onstage at the Blues Cazorla Festival on July 22, 2011, in Cazorla, Spain.
Photo by Jordi Vidal
Posterity should be pleased. Mississippi Son’s 14 songs add up to one of the best new albums of country blues recorded in decades—since the early ’90s titles cut by Junior Kimbrough and R.L. Burnside for the Fat Possum label. But Musselwhite’s proclivity for acoustic and clean but lightly hairy electric guitars takes the sound back even earlier, to the days when Chess, Vee-Jay, and Sun were cutting records by artists straight out of the cotton fields. His repeated sliding chords and up-picking on the tunes “Hobo Blues” and “Crawling King Snake” evoke the spirit of John Lee Hooker, who cut their most famous versions. But many of the songs are Musselwhite originals with lyrics that also conjure visions of the Delta of yore, alluding to the ’Frisco (the St. Louis–San Francisco Railway), the itinerant bluesman’s life (the semi-autobiographical “Drifting from Town to Town”), and the endless flow of the Mississippi River.
Musselwhite is joined on five songs by drummer Ricky Martin and upright bassist Barry Bays, and he overdubbed his own harmonica. But some of the album’s most profound performances are just Musselwhite and his guitar. The heart-squeezer “The Dark,” a Guy Clark number, is especially hypnotic. As he lays out lightly surging riffs on the Gibson L-4 acoustic archtop that’s one of the album’s MVP 6-strings, he gently intones the lyrics in a way that transforms the small elements of a fading day—a June bug on a window screen, a dripping kitchen faucet, the Earth turning its back on the sun—into something existential. “One way or another,” Musselwhite observes in the third verse, “we’re all in the dark.”
The album’s other guitars were a 1967 Silvertone solidbody electric borrowed from the Clarksdale guitar shop Bluestown Music, a 1954 Gibson J-45, and the Gibson L-7 that belonged to Big Joe Williams. A tube-driven Laney A3012 was the amp Vincent used for Musselwhite’s guitar and harmonica. This model amplifier was made in the ’80s and ’90s and has four 12AX7 preamp tubes and two 6V6 power tubes, but in Musselwhite’s control it sounds like a vintage tweed Fender or a Valco Sears special—an old man of a soundbox with more than a hint of experience in its voice. Vincent recorded the amp with a Neumann U 87.
"I really love the way he nails the old deep blues, the country blues. He only plays what’s necessary, and every note has nuance.”—Elvin Bishop
Musselwhite’s tunings, besides standard, were textbook Delta blues. “Furry Lewis taught me Spanish and Vestapol,” he says, using the terms typically used to describe the open G (Spanish, or cross-tuning for minor-key variations á la Skip James) and open D/E families of tunings. After he plugs in, “I turn the treble all the way off and the bass all the way up, the mids about half-way, and I’m ready to go.” Pedals? Of course not.
When we spoke, Musselwhite had some dates on his schedule with Elvin Bishop, and both artists were looking forward to playing country blues—and especially some country blues guitar—together again, as they have intermittently since meeting in the music’s ultra-fertile ’60s Chicago scene.
“I loved the sound of Chicago blues and where it took the electric guitar, but I’ve always been a big fan of country blues guitar,” says Musselwhite. “There are so many subtleties in it. That’s where the real beauty of the blues is—in those subtleties … just listening to the way those guys accompanied themselves. One guy with a guitar: whether it’s John Lee Hooker or Lightnin’ Hopkins or Charley Patton. I love that stuff and so I guess that’s why I play like I do. I also knew a lot of the old-timers, and they weren’t shredders by any stretch of the imagination. That sound captivated me when I was a kid, and it still does.”
Charlie Musselwhite - Blues Up The River
Charlie Musselwhite plays his song “Blues Up the River,” from Mississippi Son, on a new Epiphone John Lee Hooker model Zephyr.
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Is this the most affordable (and powerful) modeler around?
Very affordable way to get into digital modeling. Excellent crunch and high-gain tones.
Navigating many modes through limited controls means a bit of a learning curve for a pedal this small.
$179
IK Multimedia Tonex One
ikmultimedia.com
Resistance to digital amps might just be futile at this point. Many tunes you hear—and an increasing number of live gigs—feature a bit of faux-tube tone somewhere in the mix. But while the sound of pro-level modelers can be nearly indistinguishable from their analog counterparts in a mix, the feel and simplicity of a real amplifiers remain appealing and even indispensable to many players. That said, modelers that make usability, convenience, and price priorities can convince even die-hard tube users to see what’s on the other side of the fence. IK Multimedia’s TONEX ONE is one modeling device that might make the cut. It’s likely the smallest, most portable modeler out there. And at $179, it’s easily the most affordable.
Big Tones, Tiny Controls
The TONEX ONE isn’t designed to put a million different options at your feet, and that economy may be the unit’s strongest feature. It features several different modes, but the primary operating mode allows you to either switch between two different models, or simply use the unit as a stompbox. Each model can be an amp, an amp and cab, a pedal, or a pedal driving an amp and cab. Judging by how deep the online repository tone.net is for user-created presets, the options are nearly endless, which speaks to the already sizable user base. It’s a little strange to consider a modeler in a package this small with so few controls. There’s a large main knob that controls volume and gain (when you’re in ALT mode), and above that are three illuminated mini knobs that control the 3-band EQ, gate, compression, and reverb. You can also plug your headphones directly into the pedal, which makes it a dynamite silent practice amp.
My experience with modelers is that high-gain tones and clean tones are relatively easy to achieve and typically very good. After unboxing the TONEX ONE, I loaded up a slightly dirty Vox-style amp to evaluate the edge-of-breakup tones. I paired the pedal with humbuckers (with a coil split option), Stratocaster single coils, and P-90s in a T-style solidbody. With each one, the Vox-style amp was punchy and clear but could also range to very nice higher-gain sounds. Naturally, each version of a modeled amp offers different gain structures, so it pays to experiment. Combining the humbuckers in a PRS SE DGT with a few hot-rodded Marshall emulations and the growl offered tones nearly as good as those from much more expensive modelers. In a blind test, I’m not sure I could hear—or feel—much of a difference. As I explored further and fine-tuned things a bit more, the ToneX One felt more alive in my hand,s and sounded much less shrill in the top end than other digital solutions I’ve encountered.
One of the most obvious tone fixers in a modeler—and maybe one of the most underutilized—is the EQ section, and kudos are due to IK for placing those controls at the fore. Being able to adjust the most immediate tone-shaping options without having to dig through menus or touchscreens is a pleasure.
There are many possible uses for the TONEX ONE. It can serve as a high-quality direct solution on your pedalboard, a portable recording interface, and a plug-and-play practice solution when high volume is a no-go. One handy setup I tried was disabling the cabinet emulation in the pedal and then plugging into the effects return of a combo amp, in this case, a Fender Hot Rod Deluxe. I immediately imagined many backline amp headaches being a thing of the past. You can always plug directly into a flat-response cabinet or PA system too.
Because it has such a small footprint and streamlined controls, harnessing the unit’s full potential, and accessing all the different modes, takes a bit of effort. You can store 20 different presets within the pedal and assign them to any of the three active slots (two for dual mode and one for stomp mode). And although doing this on the fly is handy, I found it much easier to program the presets via the easy-to-use desktop editor.
The Verdict
TONEX ONE benefits from a rather singular focus and its biggest advantage is that it’s not shrouded in unnecessary layers of tweakable options. You can simply load up a base sound or two, drop it at the end of your pedalboard, and go.The included software allows you create your own models and makes swapping presets easy. I did find the multitude of modes, and their color-coded indicators, a bit confusing at times, but IK’s documentation was very clear and got me through any trouble spots. The TONEX ONE would serve well to those who want to explore digital modeling but still hold on to their analog pedalboards, and at $179 it’s a steal.
Beauty and sweet sonority elevate a simple-to-use, streamlined acoustic and vocal amplifier.
An EQ curve that trades accuracy for warmth. Easy-to-learn, simple-to-use controls. It’s pretty!
Still exhibits some classic acoustic-amplification problems, like brash, unforgiving midrange if you’re not careful.
$1,199
Taylor Circa 74
taylorguitars.com
Save for a few notable (usually expensive) exceptions, acoustic amplifiers are rarely beautiful in a way that matches the intrinsic loveliness of an acoustic flattop. I’ve certainly seen companies try—usually by using brown-colored vinyl to convey … earthiness? Don’t get me wrong, a lot of these amps sound great and even look okay. But the bar for aesthetics, in my admittedly snotty opinion, remains rather low. So, my hat’s off to Taylor for clearing that bar so decisively and with such style. The Circa 74 is, indeed, a pretty piece of work that’s forgiving to work with, ease to use, streamlined, and sharp.
Boxing Beyond Utility
Any discussion of trees or wood with Bob Taylor is a gas, and highly instructive. He loves the stuff and has dabbled before in amplifier designs that made wood an integral feature, rather than just trim. But the Circa 74 is more than just an aesthetic exercise. Because the Taylor gang started to think in a relatively unorthodox way about acoustic sound amplification—eschewing the notion that flat frequency response is the only path to attractive acoustic tone.
I completely get this. I kind of hate flat-response speakers. I hate nice monitors. We used to have a joke at a studio I frequented about a pair of monitors that often made us feel angry and agitated. Except that they really did. Flat sound can be flat-out exhausting and lame. What brings me happiness is listening to Lee “Scratch” Perry—loud—on a lazy Sunday on my secondhand ’70s Klipsch speakers. One kind of listening is like staring at a sun-dappled summer garden gone to riot with flowers. The other sometimes feels like a stale cheese sandwich delivered by robot.
The idea that live acoustic music—and all its best, earthy nuances—can be successfully communicated via a system that imparts its own color is naturally at odds with acoustic culture’s ethos of organic-ness, authenticity, and directness. But where does purity end and begin in an amplified acoustic signal? An undersaddle pickup isn’t made of wood. A PA with flat-response speakers didn’t grow in a forest. So why not build an amp with color—the kind of color that makes listening to music a pleasure and not a chore?
To some extent, that question became the design brief that drove the evolution of the Circa 74. Not coincidentally, the Circa 74 feels as effortless to use as a familiar old hi-fi. It has none of the little buttons for phase correction that make me anxious every time I see one. There’s two channels: one with an XLR/1/4" combo input, which serves as the vocal channel if you are a singer; another with a 1/4" input for your instrument. Each channel consists of just five controls—level, bass, middle, and treble EQ, and a reverb. An 11th chickenhead knob just beneath the jewel lamp governs the master output. That’s it, if you don’t include the Bluetooth pairing button and 1/8" jacks for auxiliary sound sources and headphones. Power, by the way, is rated at 150 watts. That pours forth through a 10" speaker.Pretty in Practice
I don’t want to get carried away with the experiential and aesthetic aspects of the Circa 74. It’s an amplifier with a job to do, after all. But I had fun setting it up—finding a visually harmonious place among a few old black-panel Fender amps and tweed cabinets, where it looked very much at home, and in many respects equally timeless.
Plugging in a vocal mic and getting a balance with my guitar happened in what felt like 60 seconds. Better still, the sound that came from the Circa 74, including an exceedingly croaky, flu-addled human voice, sounded natural and un-abrasive. The Circa 74 isn’t beyond needing an assist. Getting the most accurate picture of a J-45 with a dual-source pickup meant using both the treble and midrange in the lower third of their range. Anything brighter sounded brash. A darker, all-mahogany 00, however, preferred a scooped EQ profile with the treble well into the middle of its range. You still have to do the work of overcoming classic amplification problems like extra-present high mids and boxiness. But the fixes come fast, easily, and intuitively. The sound may not suggest listening to an audiophile copy of Abbey Road, as some discussions of the amp would lead you to expect. But there is a cohesiveness, particularly in the low midrange, that does give it the feel of something mixed, even produced, but still quite organic.
The Verdict
Taylor got one thing right: The aesthetic appeal of the Circa 74 has a way of compelling you to play and sing. Well, actually, they got a bunch of things right. The EQ is responsive and makes it easy to achieve a warm representation of your acoustic, no matter what its tone signature. It’s also genuinely attractive. It’s not perfectly accurate. Instead, it’s rich in low-mid resonance and responsive to treble-frequency tweaks—lending a glow not a million miles away from a soothing home stereo. I think that approach to acoustic amplification is as valid as the quest for transparency. I’m excited to see how that thinking evolves, and how Taylor responds to their discoveries.
The evolution of Electro-Harmonix’s very first effect yields a powerful boost and equalization machine at a rock-bottom price.
A handy and versatile preamp/booster that goes well beyond the average basic booster’s range. Powerful EQ section.
Can sound a little harsh at more extreme EQ ranges.
$129
Electro-Harmonix LPB-3
ehx.com
Descended from the first Electro-Harmonix pedal ever released, the LPB-1 Linear Power Booster, the new LPB-3 has come a long way from the simple, one-knob unit in a folded-metal enclosure that plugged straight into your amplifier. Now living in Electro-Harmonix’s compact Nano chassis, the LPB-3 Linear Power Booster and EQ boasts six control knobs, two switches, and more gain than ever before.
If 3 Were 6
With six times the controls found on the 1 and 2 versions (if you discount the original’s on/off slider switch,) the LPB-3’s control complement offers pre-gain, boost, mid freq, bass, treble, and mid knobs, with a center detent on the latter three so you can find the midpoint easily. A mini-toggle labeled “max” selects between 20 dB and 33 dB of maximum gain, and another labeled “Q” flips the resonance of the mid EQ between high and low. Obviously, this represents a significant expansion of the LPB’s capabilities.
More than just a booster with a passive tone, the LPB-3 boasts a genuine active EQ stage plus parametric midrange section, comprising the two knobs with shaded legends, mid freq and mid level. The gain stages have also been reimagined to include a pre-gain stage before the EQ, which enables up to 20 dB of input gain. The boost stage that follows the EQ is essentially a level control with gain to allow for up to 33 dB of gain through the LPB-3 when the “max” mini toggle is set to 33dB
A slider switch accessible inside the pedal selects between buffered or true bypass for the hard-latch footswitch. An AC adapter is included, which supplies 200mA of DC at 9.6 volts to the center-negative power input, and EHX specifies that nothing supplying less than 120mA or more than 12 volts should be used. There’s no space for an internal battery.
Power-Boosted
The LPB-3 reveals boatloads of range that betters many linear boosts on the market. There’s lots of tone-shaping power here. Uncolored boost is available when you want it, and the preamp gain knob colors and fattens your signal as you crank it up—even before you tap into the massive flexibility in the EQ stage.
“The preamp gain knob colors and fattens your signal as you crank it up—even before you tap into the massive flexibility in the EQ stage.”
I found the two mid controls work best when used judiciously, and my guitars and amps preferred subtle changes pretty close to the midpoint on each. However, there are still tremendous variations in your mid boost (or scoop, for that matter) within just 15 or 20 percent range in either direction from the center detent. Pushing the boost and pre-gain too far, particularly with the 33 dB setting engaged, can lead to some harsh sounds, but they are easy to avoid and might even be desirable for some users that like to work at more creative extremes.
The Verdict
The new LPB-3 has much, much more range than its predecessors, providing flexible preamp, boost, and overdrive sounds that can be reshaped in significant ways via the powerful EQ. It gives precise tone-tuning flexibility to sticklers that like to match a guitar and amp to a song in a very precise way, but also opens up more radical paths for experimentalists. That it does all this at a $129 price is beyond reasonable.
Electro-Harmonix Lpb-3 Linear Power Booster & Eq Effect Pedal Silver And Blue
Intermediate
Intermediate
• Learn classic turnarounds.
• Add depth and interest to common progressions.
• Stretch out harmonically with hip substitutions.
Get back to center in musical and ear-catching ways.
A turnaround chord progression has one mission: It allows the music to continue seamlessly back to the beginning of the form while reinforcing the key center in a musically interesting way. Consider the last four measures of a 12-bar blues in F, where the bare-bones harmony would be C7-Bb7-F7-F7 (one chord per measure). With no turn around in the last two measures, you would go back to the top of the form, landing on another F7. That’s a lot of F7, both at the end of the form, and then again in the first four bars of the blues. Without a turnaround, you run the risk of obscuring the form of the song. It would be like writing a novel without using paragraphs or punctuation.
The most common turnaround is the I-VI-ii-V chord progression, which can be applied to the end of the blues and is frequently used when playing jazz standards. Our first four turnarounds are based on this chord progression. Furthermore, by using substitutions and chord quality changes, you get more mileage out of the I-VI-ii-V without changing the basic functionality of the turnaround itself. The second group of four turnarounds features unique progressions that have been borrowed from songs or were created from a theoretical idea.
In each example, I added extensions and alterations to each chord and stayed away from the pure R-3-5-7 voicings. This will give each chord sequence more color and interesting voice leading. Each turnaround has a companion solo line that reflects the sound of the changes. Shell voicings (root, 3rd, 7th) are played underneath so that the line carries the sound of the written chord changes, making it easier to hear the sound of the extensions and alterations. All examples are in the key of C. Let’s hit it.
The first turnaround is the tried and true I-VI-ii-V progression, played as Cmaj7-A7-Dm7-G7. Ex. 1 begins with C6/9, to A7(#5), to Dm9, to G7(#5), and resolves to Cmaj7(#11). By using these extensions and alterations, I get a smoother, mostly chromatic melodic line at the top of the chord progression.
Ex. 2 shows one possible line that you can create. As for scale choices, I used C major pentatonic over C6/9, A whole tone for A7(#5), D Dorian for Dm9, G whole tone for G7(#5), and C Lydian for Cmaj7(#11) to get a more modern sound.
The next turnaround is the iii-VI-ii-V progression, played as Em7-A7-Dm7-G7 where the Em7 is substituted for Cmaj7. The more elaborate version in Ex. 3 shows Em9 to A7(#9)/C#, to Dm6/9, to G9/B, resolving to Cmaj7(add6). A common way to substitute chords is to use the diatonic chord that is a 3rd above the written chord. So, to sub out the I chord (Cmaj7) you would use the iii chord (Em7). By spelling Cmaj7 = C-E-G-B and Em7 = E-G-B-D, you can see that these two chords have three notes in common, and will sound similar over the fundamental bass note, C. The dominant 7ths are in first inversion, but serve the same function while having a more interesting bass line.
The line in Ex. 4 uses E Dorian over Em9, A half-whole diminished over A7(#9)/C#, D Dorian over Dm6/9, G Mixolydian over G9/B, and C major pentatonic over Cmaj7(add6). The chord qualities we deal with most are major 7, dominant 7, and minor 7. A quality change is just that… changing the quality of the written chord to another one. You could take a major 7 and change it to a dominant 7, or even a minor 7. Hence the III-VI-II-V turnaround, where the III and the VI have both been changed to a dominant 7, and the basic changes would be E7-A7-D7-G7.
See Ex. 5, where E7(b9) moves to A7(#11), to D7(#9) to G7(#5) to Cmaj9. My scale choices for the line in Ex. 6 are E half-whole diminished over E7(#9), A Lydian Dominant for A7(#11), D half-whole diminished for D7(#9), G whole tone for G7(#5), and C Ionian for Cmaj9.
Ex. 7 is last example in the I-VI-ii-V category. Here, the VI and V are replaced with their tritone substitutes. Specifically, A7 is replaced with Eb7, and G7 is replaced with Db7, and the basic progression becomes Cmaj7-Eb7-Dm7-Db7. Instead of altering the tritone subs, I used a suspended 4th sound that helped to achieve a diatonic, step-wise melody in the top voice of the chord progression.
The usual scales can be found an Ex. 8, where are use a C major pentatonic over C6/9, Eb Mixolydian over Eb7sus4, D Dorian over Dm11, Db Mixolydian over Db7sus4, and once again, C Lydian over Cmaj7(#11). You might notice that the shapes created by the two Mixolydian modes look eerily similar to minor pentatonic shapes. That is by design, since a Bb minor pentatonic contains the notes of an Eb7sus4 chord. Similarly, you would use an Ab minor pentatonic for Db7sus4.
The next four turnarounds are not based on the I-VI-ii-V chord progression, but have been adapted from other songs or theoretical ideas. Ex. 9 is called the “Backdoor” turnaround, and uses a iv-bVII-I chord progression, played as Fm7-Bb7-Cmaj7. In order to keep the two-bar phrase intact, a full measure of C precedes the actual turnaround. I was able to compose a descending whole-step melodic line in the top voice by using Cmaj13 and Cadd9/E in the first bar, Fm6 and Ab/Bb in the second bar, and then resolving to G/C. The slash chords have a more open sound, and are being used as substitutes for the original changes. They have the same function, and they share notes with their full 7th chord counterparts.
Creating the line in Ex. 10 is no more complicated than the other examples since the function of the chords determines which mode or scale to use. The first measure employs the C Ionian mode over the two Cmaj chord sounds. F Dorian is used over Fm6 in bar two. Since Ab/Bb is a substitute for Bb7, I used Bb Mixolydian. In the last measure, C Ionian is used over the top of G/C.
The progression in Ex. 11 is the called the “Lady Bird” turnaround because it is lifted verbatim from the Tadd Dameron song of the same name. It is a I-bIII-bVI-bII chord progression usually played as Cmaj7-Eb7-Abmaj7-Db7. Depending on the recording or the book that you check out, there are slight variations in the last chord but Db7 seems to be the most used. Dressing up this progression, I started with a different G/C voicing, to Eb9(#11), to Eb/Ab (subbing for Abmaj7), to Db9(#11), resolving to C(add#11). In this example, the slash chords are functioning as major seventh chords.
As a result, my scale choices for the line in Ex. 12 are C Ionian over G/C, Eb Lydian Dominant over Eb9(#11), Ab Ionian over Eb/Ab, Db Lydian Dominant over Db9(#11), and C Lydian over C(add#11).
The progression in Ex. 13 is called an “equal interval” turnaround, where the interval between the chords is the same in each measure. Here, the interval is a descending major 3rd that creates a I-bVI-IV-bII sequence, played as Cmaj7-Abmaj7-Fmaj7-Dbmaj7, and will resolve a half-step down to Cmaj7 at the top of the form. Since the interval structure and chord type is the same in both measures, it’s easy to plane sets of voicings up or down the neck. I chose to plane up the neck by using G/C to Abmaj13, then C/F to Dbmaj13, resolving on Cmaj7/E.
The line in Ex. 14 was composed by using the notes of the triad for the slash chord and the Lydian mode for the maj13 chords. For G/C, the notes of the G triad (G-B-D) were used to get an angular line that moves to Ab Lydian over Abmaj13. In the next measure, C/F is represented by the notes of the C triad (C-E-G) along with the root note, F. Db Lydian was used over Dbmaj13, finally resolving to C Ionian over Cmaj7/E. Since this chord progression is not considered “functional” and all the chord sounds are essentially the same, you could use Lydian over each chord as a way to tie the sound of the line together. So, use C Lydian, Ab Lydian, F Lydian, Db Lydian, resolving back to C Lydian.
The last example is the “Radiohead” turnaround since it is based off the chord progression from their song “Creep.” This would be a I-III-IV-iv progression, and played Cmaj7-E7-Fmaj7-Fm7. Dressing this one up, I use a couple of voicings that had an hourglass shape, where close intervals were in the middle of the stack.
In Ex. 15 C6/9 moves to E7(#5), then to Fmaj13, to Fm6 and resolving to G/C. Another potential name for the Fmaj13 would be Fmaj7(add6) since the note D is within the first octave. This chord would function the same way, regardless of which name you used.
Soloing over this progression in Ex. 16, I used the C major pentatonic over C6/9, E whole tone over E7(#5), F Lydian over Fmaj13, and F Dorian over Fm6. Again, for G/C, the notes of the G triad were used with the note E, the 3rd of a Cmaj7 chord.
The main thing to remember about the I-VI-ii-V turnaround is that it is very adaptable. If you learn how to use extensions and alterations, chord substitutions, and quality changes, you can create some fairly unique chord progressions. It may seem like there are many different turnarounds, but they’re really just an adaptation of the basic I-VI-ii-V progression.
Regarding other types of turnarounds, see if you can steal a short chord progression from a pop tune and make it work. Or, experiment with other types of intervals that would move the chord changes further apart, or even closer together. Could you create a turnaround that uses all minor seventh chords? There are plenty of crazy ideas out there to work with, and if it sounds good to you, use it!