
From left to right: drummer Leo Didkovsky, guitarist Mario Miron, guitarist/vocalist Haela Ravenna Hunt-Hendrix, and bassist Tia Vincent-Clark.
The black metal band’s latest release speaks loudly with frontwoman Haela Ravenna Hunt-Hendrix’s theological philosophies and classical influence.
Most musicians hate labeling themselves with a genre. But Liturgy vocalist, guitarist, and mastermind Haela Ravenna Hunt-Hendrix is different. She knows exactly what her music sounds like, and why.
“A lot of people don’t like the idea of naming what they do, but I love it,” she says with a laugh. “[Liturgy is] a cross between extreme metal; avant-garde, minimalist, classical music; 19th-century Romantic classical music; and American screamo-inflected metalcore.” Her quick response and detailed description are typical of Hunt-Hendrix’s musical personality. Everything she does comes from a crystallized vision, years of music education, and a passion for the theological and philosophical purpose that she believes animates the greater zoetic universe.
Conceived around the concept of Christianity’s kingdom of heaven, Liturgy’s latest release, 93696—named after a numerological representation of heaven, or a new eon for civilization—and its companion EP, As the Blood of God Bursts the Veins of Time, embrace the entirety of the band’s catalog and push it even further into the cosmos. With each release, Hunt-Hendrix has searched for new inspiration, new sounds, and a new approach. In the past, that included everything from electronic trap-style layers to a wide range of world and orchestral instruments. Based on her earlier musical education, Hunt-Hendrix took a more classical approach to 93696, and while that may have turned off a few black metal purists, she knew what she was doing—and chose to double down on it.
Djennaration
“With this one, I felt happy with the language of the band and wanted to make something really, really epic using that language,” she explains. “It feels like a synthesis of a lot of things that we’ve done before. It’s by far the most ambitious record we’ve ever done. It’s longer, and more complex.” Every instrument, whether in the gigantic “Djennaration” or the instrumental, organ-driven “Angel of Individuation,” plays a key role in a bed of twisting, layered melodies and deep harmonic complexity. This is especially evident in the bass work, where alternate chord inversions and counterpoint are more common than driving root notes.
“[93696] feels like a synthesis of a lot of things that we’ve done before. It’s by far the most ambitious record we’ve ever done.”
“That’s pretty unusual on electric bass,” she admits. “It’s in that classical tradition of writing music. The bass has a role while the higher voices come together doing different things. Then it all coalesces into unity.”
Speaking on the evolution of her musical influences, she elaborates, “I played piano from a very young age and was really into classical music. But, in high school, black metal was this fascinating, faraway thing. I was listening to a lot of the classic second-wave Norwegian stuff. Emperor and Darkthrone were my favorite bands, and I was intentionally emulating them.”
Haela Ravenna Hunt-Hendrix's Gear
From a young age, Hunt-Hendrix was interested in classical music, but in high school, she got into listening to black metal bands like Emperor and Darkthrone.
Photo by Alexander Perelli
Guitars
- Reverend Descent Baritone (standard or drop-D tuning)
Amps
- Sovtek Mig 100
- Orange TH30 combo (studio only)
- Ampeg 4x12 cabinet
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball .009s
- Dunlop Tortex .5 mm
After graduating, Hunt-Hendrix attended the prestigious Columbia University, where black metal took a backseat to her philosophy and classical composition studies. Her plan was to make a future in the classical arts. That didn’t last long. “There was a time when I thought I might be a composer and write music in the classical tradition. I studied classical composition and was really into minimalism and Romanticism. I was reading scores and studying them and then trying to write [my own]. But I got swept up in the punk and metal scenes and wanted to, instead, take those techniques and put them into rock music.”
When Hunt-Hendrix says “rock music,” again, think “black metal.” And her alchemy of the genre, as well as classical composition and philosophical studies, would soon manifest in Liturgy’s 2009 debut LP Renihilation, released when the band was just a solo project. Full of blast beats, dissonance, and throat-shredding vocals, there was no question where Hunt-Hendrix cut her teeth. But, even on her early releases, Liturgy went far beyond the aggression and atmosphere of black metal’s forebears. Throughout their catalog, each savage and unrelenting instrument together weaves a whole much larger than their individual parts.
“I studied classical composition and was really into minimalism and Romanticism…. But I got swept up in the punk and metal scenes and wanted to, instead, take those techniques and put them into rock music.”
This, Hunt-Hendrix says, is where the classical influence comes in. “Learning to write music in Western notation and think about it in terms of themes, variations, sonatas, or a fugue has been a big influence on the way that I write Liturgy’s music. I’m combining classical music and metal. Not to overlay symphonic stuff onto metal, but to use the structural tools of symphonic music with metal instruments.”
Hunt-Hendrix composes Liturgy’s songs using DAWs and notation software, then shares them with her bandmates for them to learn.
Photo by Mike Boyd
For all of the classical influence, Hunt-Hendrix’s black-metal-approved wall of distortion gives each Liturgy release its trademark sound. Much of that comes down to her relentless speed-picking technique that transforms single-note lines into what sounds like a demonic orchestra. “I noticed, [when you’re] picking really fast and have a distorted sound, it kind of sounds similar to violins in a string orchestra,” she says. “So that became my main thing. That’s pretty much what I am almost always doing in Liturgy songs. To me, that’s the string orchestra aspect. It’s in the range of a violin or a soprano singer.”
And when she says “always,” she really means it. When Hunt-Hendrix is playing, her picking hand is flying the whole time. With multiple songs clocking in at over 10 minutes, it makes you wonder how she makes it look so easy. “At this point, it’s not hard at all,” she said. “I barely notice. It’s like the way drummers who play really fast double-kick learn to do it so gently that they can do it forever. But it’s a big problem if I don't have the right picks!”
Her playing style—and picks—have been constants throughout Liturgy’s career. But they may be the only ones. Since her first release, Hunt-Hendrix has expanded the band (now including guitarist Mario Miron, bassist Tia Vincent-Clark, and drummer Leo Didkovsky) to record and perform as a quartet. Hunt-Hendrix’s compositions are ever-evolving the sound of the band and the genre.
“I noticed, [when you’re] picking really fast and have a distorted sound, it kind of sounds similar to violins in a string orchestra.”
But with so much of that aforementioned, variegated musical background swirling around her exacting vision, writing 93696 demanded a different approach than a group of people plugging in and jamming. Instead, she again pulled from her classical training, composing each part individually with the help of technology.
“I wrote most of the music using Logic and Ableton, and used Sibelius for notation software,” says Hunt-Hendrix. “Then it’s different with different songs. I'll either make a demo using a drum machine and recording guitar into my computer, or I’ll make the demo using an organ sound that sounds like the guitars will sound. But there’s a lot of revision and a lot of listening back!
“Then I’ll either give the demo to my bandmates or give them music to read. And we were working through this album during the height of Covid, so a lot of our rehearsals were actually on Zoom in the early part of the year.”
Then there’s all of the other instrumentation throughout the record. Everything from harp to ocarina to glockenspiel to vibraphone play their part on 93696. And, while some artists may whip these auxiliary sounds up with virtual instrument plugins, Hunt-Hendrix wanted to keep a raw, human element.
Hunt-Hendrix’s picking hand almost never stops moving in Liturgy’s live performances. In her rapidfire, distorted guitar lines, she hears orchestral strings.
Photo by Mike Boyd
“It’s mostly all done live,” she reveals. “I have a lot of friends and acquaintances in New York who are in the avant-garde classical scene, or jazz scene, or something like that. So I just called people up. I wrote out the music, gave it to them, and then they came to the studio and played it.”
That human element extended to every element of the album’s recording process, giving it a surprisingly gritty, punk vibe. The secret, according to Hunt-Hendrix, is that “It’s mostly all recorded live.” Aside from the additional instrumentation and occasional electronic elements, the band tracked nearly every tremolo-picked guitar line, chordal bass passage, and exceedingly complex drum performance together and in the same room. “And we tracked the whole record to the tape,” she added.
Furthering Liturgy’s no-nonsense approach is both guitarists’ simple selection of gear. Miron relies on his trusty ESP LTD MH-200 into an MXR Fullbore Metal pedal and Quilter ToneBlock 200 amp head. But Hunt-Hendrix takes a uniquely pragmatic approach to her gear, dictated by her equally singular technique.
“Bringing in the old material has this quality of your life flashing before your eyes…. It adds a purpose to the sense of culmination, or heaven, if you like.”
“So, now, I actually play a baritone guitar, a Reverend Descent. I’m almost always playing at the very top of the neck above the 12th fret,” she explains. “All the chord changes and everything are up there. Since I’m playing at the top of the neck all the time, there’s more space between the frets for my fingers. I string it with normal, .009-gauge guitar strings, and it’s tuned like a standard guitar or drop D."Next in line is her beloved Sovtek Mig 100 amplifier, complemented in the studio with an unlikely combo. “I don’t use any pedals at all,” she explains. “I run my guitar straight into my Mig 100. I like it because it distorts a lot, but it’s not a super crunchy distortion like you hear in a lot of metal. The notes ring out and breathe. And, on a recording, I like to contrast it with my Orange TH30 combo. It’s very small and not good for using live. But if you mic it in the studio, it sounds huge."
This raw, DIY character helps make 93696 a wonderfully challenging listen with endless intrigue. The aggression and themes that propel the 15-minute title track are somehow matched by the mandolin and choir-driven space and beauty of “Immortal Life II.” And, speaking of songs on the album ending in “II,” these are references to Liturgy songs from previous releases. As new compositions inspired by her earlier work, they perfectly sum up Hunt-Hendrix’s vision for the entire record.
“For some reason, while we were working on this record, I began listening to older Liturgy songs. I was fascinated by the potential to go back and take material from those songs and work them out in totally new ways. Bringing in the old material has this quality of your life flashing before your eyes. It’s like surveying Liturgy’s whole career before, or at, the end. It adds a purpose to the sense of culmination, or heaven, if you like.
“I’m not saying that this is the band’s last album. I want to keep making more music that sounds like this. But, and maybe it’s more of a time we live in, it feels like this is the last couple of years that humanity will exist. That may or may not be true, but this is an album for that time. In that sense, it’s the final album [laughs].”YouTube It
Liturgy delivers a thrashing wall of sound in a performance of “Glory Bronze” from their 2011 album Aesthetica at First Unitarian Church, a fitting venue, given the band’s theological influence.
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The typical controls on a compressor can be confusing and often misunderstood. At the heart of the MXR Studio Compressor is the ratio control, which offers up four levels of squish.
Compression might be the most misunderstood effect on your board—until now.
I was recently listening to three accomplished guitar players discuss the how, when, and where to use compressors in their guitar rigs. All three players had wildly different views on all aspects of compressordom, from where they should be used in a signal chain to whether they are even worth the hardware that holds them together.
Their conversation made me reflect on compressors more generally, and their standing as probably the least understood guitar pedal effect. There is a long-running joke about the guitar player who spends 30 minutes dialing in his compressor before the sudden realization that, for all the knob twisting, the pedal itself has never turned on. Most players have put on the compressor dunce cap for at least 30 seconds—if not 30 minutes.
When compared to effects like distortion and delay, compression can be as esoteric, nuanced, and arcane as a clandestine funk-guitar society’s secret handshake. In my experience, a large swath of guitar players cannot even detect compression until they are sonically beaten over the head with it. And of those who can discern the bludgeoning, many don’t know which knob to turn to achieve a more subtle effect. We guitar players should have known we were in trouble when many professional compressors came with buttons labeled “auto.” If even our know-it-all, front-of-house cousins need a crutch, what hope do we have?
Compression originated in the recording studio, where professional engineers were both its inventors and primary users, so its controls tend to be more technical than your amp’s bass, middle, and treble knobs. Let’s break down some controls in the simplest terms possible.
Introduced in 1972, the Dyna Comp had two simple controls: output and sensitivity. It’s far from transparent, but added a musical coloration that made fans out of Bonnie Raitt and Lowell George.
Threshold: This setting determines what gets squished and what doesn’t. Everything below the threshold passes through unchanged. Everything above the threshold gets squished. This is often labeled “sustain” on many guitar pedals. Sometimes, as the sustain is turned up, the compressor’s threshold point goes down, lowering the bar for what gets compressed, and more effect gets applied to your dry signal.
Ratio: How much compression is applied to signals above the threshold. A 1:1 ratio would mean no compression. At 2:1, for every 2 dB over the threshold, the compressor will only let 1 dB through. Some classic compressors have a ratio around 30:1. This means that above the threshold, you can increase the input signal significantly but receive only a small increase in output. Boom, you’re chickin’ pickin’.
Attack: This adjusts how fast it takes the compressor to get to work. A shorter attack means the clamping action happens immediately, while a longer attack time lets a brief burst of signal through before they start applying the aforementioned compression ratio.
Release: After the signal drops below the threshold, the compressor takes a certain amount of time to stop compressing or release. A longer release lazily hangs on and stops compressing when it gets around to it. Shorter releases get out of the way faster, and the next transient can get through uncompressed before being re-attacked.
Makeup Gain (or Output Level): The compression process naturally limits gain. To match the energy level of your uncompressed signal, you may need to boost the compressor’s output. Compression evens out the peaks, and makeup gain can compensate for any perceived differences in level.
Threshold and ratio are the heart of the compressor’s function. Threshold decides what gets compressed and ratio determines how much it’s compressed. Attack and release are about how fast compression is applied and how quickly it stops being applied. By controlling these, you are controlling how quickly transients are attacked and how slowly transients are released. Every guitar compressor has an attack and release time, but many designs hide these controls via internal, fixed component values. The designer has benevolently dictated what setting you should use. Output level lets you make up for all that crushing by adding level to compensate.
This is just the beginning of compression. We’ve got the knobs, we know the function, and next time we’ll discuss how we can use this dynamic darling
By refining an already amazing homage to low-wattage 1960s Fenders, Carr flirts with perfection—and adds a Hiwatt-flavored twist.
Killer low end for a low-wattage amp. Mid and presence controls extend range beyond Princeton or tweed tone templates. Hiwatt-styled voice expands vocabulary. Built like heirloom furniture.
Two-hundred-eighty-two bucks per watt.
$3,390
Carr Skylark Special
carramps.com
Steve Carr could probably build fantastic Fender amp clones while cooking up a crème brulee. But the beauty of Carr Amps is that they are never simply a copy of something else. Carr has a knack for taking Fender tone and circuit design elements—and, to a lesser extent, highlights from the Vox and Marshall playbook—and reimagining them as something new.
Those that playedCarr’s dazzling original Skylark know it didn’t go begging for much in the way of improvement. But Carr tends to tinker to very constructive ends. In the case of the Skylark Special, the headline news is the addition of the Hiwatt-inspired tone section from theCarr Bel-Ray, a switch from a solid-state rectifier to an EZ81 tube rectifier that enhances the amp’s sense of touch and dynamics, and an even deeper reverb.
Spanning Space Ages
With high-profile siblings like the Deluxe, Bassman, Tremolux, and Twin, Fender’s original Harvard is, comparatively, a footnote in Fender’s wide-panel tweed era (the inclusion of Steve Cropper’s Harvard in the Smithsonian notwithstanding). But the Harvard is somewhat distinctive among tweed Fenders for using fixed bias, which, given its power, makes it a bridge that links in both circuit and sound to the Princeton Reverb. The Skylark Special’s similar capacity for straddling tweed and black-panel touch and tone is fundamental to its magic.
Like the Harvard and the Princeton, the Skylark Special’s engine runs on two 6V6 power tubes and a single 12AX7 in the preamp section. A 12AX7 and 12AT7 drive the reverb and the reverb recovery section, respectively, and a second 12AT7 is assigned to the phase inverter. (The little EZ81 between the two 6V6 power tubes is dedicated to the rectifier). Apart from the power tubes and the 12AX7 in the preamp, however, the Skylark Special deviates from Harvard and Princeton reverb templates in many important ways. Instead of a 10" Jensen or Oxford, it uses a 50-watt 12" Celestion A-Type ceramic speaker, and it includes midrange and presence controls that a Harvard or Princeton do not. It also features a boost switch that manages to lend body and brawn without obliterating the core tone. There is also, as is Carr’s style, a very useful attenuator that spans zero to 1.2 watts. Alas, there is no tremolo.
“I’d wager the Skylark Special will be around every bit as long as a tweed Harvard when most of your printed-circuit amps have shoved off for the recycler.”
It goes without saying, perhaps, that the North Carolina-built Skylark Special is made to standards of craft that befit its $3K-plus price. Even still, Carr upgraded nine of the coupling capacitors to U.S.-made Jupiters. They also managed to shave six pounds from the Baltic birch cabinet weight—reducing total weight to 35 pounds and, in Steve Carr’s estimation, improving resonance. Say what you will about the high price, but I’d wager the Skylark Special will be around every bit as long as a tweed Harvard when most of your printed-circuit amps have shoved off for the recycler.
Sweet Soulful Bird
Fundamentally, the Skylark Special launches from a Fender space. But this is a very refined Fender space. The bass is rich, deep, and massive in ways you won’t encounter in many 12-watt combos, and the warm contours at the tone’s edges lend ballast and attitude to both clean tones and the ultra-smooth distorted ones at the volume’s higher reaches. All of these sounds dovetail with the clear top end you imagine when you close your eyes and picture quintessential black-panel Fender-ness. The presence and midrange controls, along with the 50-watt speaker, lend a lot in terms of scalpel-sharp tone shaping—providing a dimension beyond classical Fender-ness—especially when you bump the midrange and turn up your guitar volume.
The tube rectifier, meanwhile, shifts the Skylark Special’s touch dynamics from the super-immediate reactivity of a solid-state rectifier to a softer, more-compressed, more sunset-hued kind of tactile sensitivity. But don’t let that lead you to worry about the amp’s more explosive capabilities. There is more than enough high-midrange and treble to make the Skylark Special go bang.
Anglo and Attenuated Alter Egos
The Hiwatt-inspired setting is still dynamic, but it’s a little tighter than the Fullerton-voiced setting. There’s air and mass enough for power jangling or weighty leads. The differences in the Bel-Ray’s tube selection (EL84 power tubes as well as an EF86 in the preamp) means the Skylark Special’s version of the Hiwatt-style voice is—like the amp in general—warm and round in the low-mid zone and softer around the edges, where the Bel-Ray version has more high-end ceiling and less mellow glow in the bass. It definitely gives the Skylark Special a transatlantic reach that enhances its vocabulary and utility.
Attenuated settings are not just practical for suiting the amps to circumstances and size of space you’re in; they also offer an extra range of colors. The maximum 1.2 watt attenuated setting still churns up thick, filthy overdrive that rings with harmonics.
The Skylark Special’s richness and variation means you’ll spend a lot of time with guitar and amp alone. Anything more often feels like an intrusion. But the Skylark Special is a friend to effects. Strength in the low-end and speaker means it humors the gnarliest fuzzes with grace. And with as many shades of clean-to-just-dirty tones as there are here, the personalities of gain devices and other effects shine.
The Verdict
Skylark Special. It’s fun to say—in a hep-cat kind of way. The name is très cool, but the amp itself sounds fabulous, creating a sort of dream union of the Princeton’s and Harvard’s low-volume character, a black-panel Deluxe’s more stage-suited loudness and mass, and a zingier, more focused English cousin. It can be sweet, subdued, surfy, rowdy, and massive. And it works happily with pedals—most notably with fuzzes that can make lesser low-mid-wattage amps cough up hairballs. The price tag smarts. But this is a 12-watt combo that goes, sonically speaking, where few such amps will, and represents a first-class specimen of design and craft.
The author dials in one of his 20-watt Sonzera amps, with an extension cabinet.
Knowing how guitar amplifiers were developed and have evolved is important to understanding why they sound the way they do when you’re plugged in.
Let’s talk about guitar amp history. I think it’s important for guitar players to have a general overview of amplifiers, so the sound makes more sense when they plug in. As far as I can figure out, guitar amps originally came from radios—although I’ve never had the opportunity to interview the inventors of the original amps. Early tube amps looked like radio boxes, and once there was an AM signal, it needed to be amplified through a speaker so you could hear it. I’m reasonably certain that other people know more about this than I do.
For me, the story of guitar amps picks up with early Fenders and Marshalls. If you look at the schematics, amplifier input, and tone control layout of an early tweed Fender Bassman, it’s clear that’s where the original Marshall JTM45 amps came from. Also, I’ve heard secondhand that the early Marshall cabinets were 8x12s, and the roadies requested that Marshall cut them in half so they became 4x12s. Similarly, 8x10 SVT cabinets were cut in half to make the now-industry-standard 4x10 bass cabinets. Our amp designer Doug Sewell and I understand that, for the early Fender amps we love, the design directed the guitar signal into half a tube, into a tone stack, into another half a tube, and the reverb would join it with another half a tube, and then there would be a phase splitter and output tubes and a transformer. (All 12AX7 tubes are really two tubes in one, so when I say a half-tube, I’m saying we’re using only the first half.) The tone stack and layout of these amps is an industry standard and have a beautiful, clean way of removing low midrange to clear up the sound of the guitar. I believe all but the first Marshalls came from a high-powered tweed Twin preamp (which was a 80-watt combo amp) and a Bassman power amp. The schematic was a little different. It was one half-tube into a full-tube cathode follower, into a more midrange-y tone stack, into the phase splitter and power tubes and output transformer. Both of these circuits have different kinds of sounds. What’s interesting is Marshall kept modifying their amps for less bass, more high midrange and treble, and more gain. In addition, master volume controls started being added by Fender and Marshall around 1976. The goal was to give more gain at less volume. Understanding these circuits has been a lifelong event for Doug and me.
Then, another designer came along by the name of Alexander Dumble. He modified the tone stack in Fender amps so you could get more bass and a different kind of midrange. Then, after the preamp, he put in a distortion circuit in a switchable in and out “loop.” In this arrangement, the distortion was like putting a distortion pedal in a loop after the tone controls. In a Fender amp, most of the distortion comes from the output section, so turning the tone controls changes the sound of the guitar, not the distortion. In a Marshall, the distortion comes before the tone controls, so when you turn the tone controls, the distortion changes. The way these amps compress and add harmonics as you turn up the gain is the game. All of these designs have real merit and are the basis of our modern tube–and then modeling—amplifiers.
Everything in these amps makes a difference. The circuits, the capacitor values and types, the resistor values and types, the power and output transformers, and the power supplies—including all those capacitor values and capacitor manufacturers.
I give you this truncated, general history to let you know that the amp business is just as complicated as the guitar business. I didn’t even mention the speakers or speaker cabinets and the artform behind those. But what’s most important is: When you plug into the amp, do you like it? And how much do you like it? Most guitar players have not played through a real Dumble or even a real blackface Deluxe Reverb or a 1966 Marshall plexi head. In a way, you’re trusting the amp designers to understand all the highly complex variations from this history, and then make a product that you love playing through. It’s daunting, but I love it. There is a complicated, deep, and rich history that has influenced and shaped how amps are made today.
Tobias bass guitars, beloved by bass players for nearly half a century, are back with the all-new Tobias Original Collection.
Built for unrivaled articulation, low-end punch, and exceptional ergonomics, the all-new Tobias Original Collection comprises an array of six four and five-string bass models all offered in both right and left-handed orientations. The Tobias range features Classic, Killer B, and Growler models, and each is equipped with high-quality hardware from Babicz and Gotoh, active electronics from Bartolini, and the iconic Tobias asymmetrical neck design. Crafted from the finest tonewoods, Tobias Original Collection bass guitars are now available worldwide on Gibson.com, at the Gibson Garage locations, and at authorized Gibson dealers.
The bass world has been clamoring for the return of the authentic, high-end Tobias basses, and now, Tobias has returned. Combining the look and tone of the finest exotic tonewoods, such as quilted maple, royal paulownia, purpleheart, sapele, walnut, ebony, and wenge, with the feel of the famous Tobias Asym asymmetrical neck and the eye-catching shapes of the perfectly balanced contoured bodies, Tobias basses are attractive in look and exceptional in playing feel. However, their sonic versatility is what makes them so well suited to the needs of modern bassists. The superior tone from the exotic hardwoods, premium hardware, and active Bartolini® pickups and preamps results in basses with the tonal flexibility that today’s players require. Don’t settle for less than a bass that delivers everything you want and need –the look, the feel, and the sound, Tobias.
“I’m thrilled to release Tobias basses, emphasizing the use of exotic woods, ergonomics, and authenticity to the original Tobias basses,” says Aljon Go, Product Development Manager for Tobias, Epiphone, and Kramer. “This revival is a dream come true, blending modern craftsmanship with the timeless essence of Tobias.”
“It’s amazing to see this icon of the bass world return,” adds Andrew Ladner, Brand Manager for Epiphone and Kramer. “These models are truly a bass player’s bass, and true to the DNA that makes Tobias world-class—the ace up the sleeve of bass players around the globe since 1978. Today’s players can find that unique voice and feel that only Tobias can offer.”
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