
The happy reunion of Mark O'Connor and his old Martin resulted in a sequel to his foundational 1978 acoustic guitar album, Markology. Back then, he was already a star violinist and a mandolin player of note. Photo by Maggie O'Connor
When an injury sidelined his 6-stringing 20 years ago, he committed to violin superstardom. Now, O'Connor returns to his 1945 Martin D-28 for the rapturous, virtuosic Markology II.
In 1997, Mark O'Connor faced every guitarist's worst fear. He was teaching at his O'Connor Method String Camp that summer when he developed a debilitating case of bursitis in his right elbow. "Doctor's advice was that I limit or discontinue some of the activity that caused the bursitis, as the condition wasn't going to disappear entirely," O'Connor explains. As a multi-instrumentalist with a high-level violin career, he had a choice to make. "I sacrificed the guitar and mandolin to preserve my violin playing. I was very sad to see it go, but I needed to preserve my ability to play the violin, because it was the thrust of my career."
By that time, O'Connor had taken violin playing to groundbreaking new places. He'd released a string of solo records on major labels, including 1991's The New Nashville Cats, which took stock of the contemporary Nashville session scene by featuring more than 50 collaborators. His new trio with Yo-Yo Ma and Edgar Meyer had released their much-lauded debut record, Appalachia Waltz, in 1996, and he'd recently composed and recorded a violin concerto, a string quartet, and a soundtrack for the PBS series Liberty!,which featured Yo-Yo Ma, James Taylor, and Wynton Marsalis.
"It became too much about technique and not as much about what drew me to the guitar in the first place, which was its beautiful sound."
As far as career ambitions go, O'Connor's violin playing overshadowed his guitar playing, but his early accomplishments on 6-strings were also extraordinary. O'Connor started early, studying classical guitar starting at age 6 and soon moving into flamenco. He took on classical violin as a way to perform more recitals, and it was his interest in violin that helped him discover bluegrass. He explains, "I heard the fiddle on the Johnny Cash show, and it was the fiddle and fiddling I got into that led me into bluegrass guitar. I would've never known that existed in my surroundings in Seattle, if it weren't for the fiddle."
Once O'Connor fell in love with bluegrass, things started happening quickly. By age 11, he'd stopped playing classical and flamenco guitar and focused solely on flatpicking. "When I got into bluegrass and started with a flat pick, for me, that was rock 'n' roll rebellion. I was going down this path and there was no return," he says. And he soon began winning bluegrass guitar competitions, including the National Guitar Flat-Picking Championships.
Surrounded by his inspirations Tony Rice (center) and Dan Crary (left), O'Conner cuts "Fluid Drive" for the first Markology album, in 1978. Flatpicking doesn't get any finer.
At 13, O'Connor met Tony Rice, and by the time he'd turned 15, the elder guitarist had taken him under wing. When O'Connor recorded his landmark album, Markology, in 1978, Rice played alongside the 16-year-old and helped him mix it as well. Markology was a remarkable feat that found the young prodigy holding his own amongst elders like Rice, David Grisman, and Sam Bush. It was the first recorded evidence that he'd aligned himself with the jazz-inspired ways of his collaborators and was creating his own original and imaginative voice in bluegrass, setting the world on fire with his 1945 Herringbone Martin D-28. Two years later, at only 18, he stepped into his mentor's shoes, replacing Rice in the David Grisman Quintet for their Quintet '80 album.
O'Connor's guitar and fiddle playing co-existed on equal footing for quite a while. "Throughout my childhood, it was neck and neck," he says. "The distinctions could include that there were more big fiddle contests than big guitar contests, so I found myself going to three times as many major fiddle championships. That would automatically suggest that I'm spending more time on that instrument." When he joined the Dregs, playing violin on 1982's Industry Standard, Steve Morse insisted that O'Connor play both instruments in concert, though he began to notice how hard it was becoming to maintain his technique on both, and notes, "It was just so hard to keep up everything, especially with the kind of touring that we were doing, it was just nonstop."
Mark O'Connor's Gear
On Mondays this year, Mark O'Connor and Maggie, his wife, have been livestreaming concerts from their home. She is part of the Mark O'Connor Band, which includes his son Forrest and daughter-in-law Kate Lee.
Strings & Picks
- BlueChip CT55
- D'Addario EJ18 Phosphor Bronze (.014–.059)
It wasn't long before Chet Atkins encouraged him to move to Nashville at the age of 22, imagining he'd find a career as a session guitarist, that O'Connor committed to the violin as his principal instrument. He explains, "I found myself on a Glen Campbell album playing guitar, mostly, and doing an occasional fiddle solo. Something just clicked in my mind where I thought, 'There's so many guitar players in Nashville and there's hardly any fiddle going on.' That was 1983, '84. I just took it upon myself to be the person that brought back fiddling into country music, and I became known as the top fiddler."
He quickly began playing top-tier sessions as well as making a string of major label records under his own name, and his guitar playing took on a more background role. By the time he suffered his injury in 1997, he admits, "I was kind of a little bit burnt out about it. Maybe that's what led to my injuries. Sometimes when you're not completely focused on what you're doing, that's the time that you get injured. I was going through the motions a little bit and maybe over-practicing, trying to overachieve, pushing myself maybe for the wrong reasons. It became too much about technique and not as much about what drew me to the guitar in the first place, which was its beautiful sound."
"Music is a gift, I think, to us all."
Setting aside his guitar and mandolin, O'Connor found that he could continue playing violin, and for the next two decades fiddling took over his musical life completely. He didn't touch a guitar. "I never thought I would play guitar again, and I had grown accustomed to that fact. I had other bouts of bursitis in both my hip and my knee since then, so I knew I was prone to it. I just never wanted to take the chance," he says.
In 2017—20 years after his injury—he was busy focusing on his Mark O'Connor Band, with his wife Maggie on violin and vocals, his son Forrest on mandolin, guitar, and vocals, and his daughter-in-law Kate Lee on violin and vocals. While reminiscing about his multi-instrumentalist past, his family encouraged him to give the guitar another try. "I was wondering how I could add some variety to the instrumentation for our group," O'Connor says. "My family was encouraging me to try the guitars out, maybe play some easy-going strums on one of our songs, and, carefully, I started to try out some guitar stuff."
In his early years as a bluegrass fiddle trailblazer, O'Connor, at left, performs at a festival with (left to right) Eddie Adcock on banjo, Peter Rowan on guitar, and Jerry Douglas on dobro.
Photo by Jordi Vidal
As he began testing his limits, O'Connor realized that he could do a lot more than strum some chords, and one thing soon led to another. "It was not too long before I began to take a lead line on one of the easy songs on stage," he says. "That led to my taking my old Herringbone off the wall back home and experimenting. Over two or three months, I started building up calluses, and as soon as I got my calluses, then my right hand seemed to start to coordinate a lot better. The strumming came back pretty quickly. It was just coordinating mainly crosspicking and lead stuff. And when that started coming back, the whole thing just opened up and I was inspired."
It's hard to imagine the thrill of revisiting the guitar after such a long hiatus. O'Connor describes the feeling: "It felt like a gift. All of a sudden it just felt like it was meant to be—that it was my time to play the guitar again. Music is a gift, I think, to us all. I thought about Tony right away. His sound was in my mind the whole time, and his tone, the way he projected on the guitar, the way he held the guitar and the physicality of it."
"The strumming came back pretty quickly. It was just coordinating mainly crosspicking and lead stuff. And when that started coming back, the whole thing just opened up and I was inspired."
O'Connor decided to document his progress on the guitar, creating arrangements of tunes and recording them once they were ready. "It dawned on me that I had been storing up guitar ideas this whole time, and maybe they were held in my subconscious all along, never having an outlet for them, and then they were kind of spilling out onto the guitar."
Those recordings slowly coalesced into Markology II, a title that suggests not only a sequel to his debut album, but also a renewal or rebirth of his relationship with the instrument. Much like on his debut, Markology II once again shows that O'Connor possesses one of the most unique and versatile voices in modern acoustic guitar playing. Like his fiddle playing, his approach to the guitar now transcends the more bluegrass-focused playing of his youth, and he shows off a versatility and virtuosity that is stunning.
The strings O'Connor had on his Martin D-45 when he put it aside 20 years ago were still on the guitar when he recorded the first two songs for his new album. Nonetheless, "On Top of the World" and "Ease With the Breeze" ring with beauty and precision.
From "On Top of the World" and "Ease With the Breeze"—the first tracks recorded for Markology II,using his D-28 with the same strings that had been on it since he put it down in 1997—to awe-inspiring, fleet-fingered arrangements of "Beaumont Rag" and "Salt Creek," O'Connor proves that not only has he not lost anything with regards to his technique and musicality, but he's continued to grow well beyond the already highly developed playing we last heard from his flat-top box in the '90s. This makes Markology II not only a unique entry in his large discography, but a unique entry into the canon of solo acoustic guitar records that demand close study.
While he once again plays with rare speed and dexterity, O'Connor brings a lot of awareness to his physical approach to guitar. At 59, he knows he has to take care, listen to his body, and follow its cues in order to avoid another injury. "I have a template of how to approach playing with injury now," he assures. "The main thing is that you have to just discontinue playing the moment you feel pain in the arm or hand area. I mean, literally, as soon as you feel the twinge of pain for 5 seconds, you have to discontinue. I'm very hyper-aware of my limitations in that way." With this thoughtful and focused awareness, it will be thrilling to hear where Mark O'Connor takes his guitar playing for years to come.
Alabama Jubilee | Mark O'Connor | "Markology II" (Official Video)
Mark O'Connor takes a relaxed and efficient approach to picking while he sets his JC Baxendale-built dreadnought on fire with this version of "Alabama Jubilee." His creative and melodic solo guitar arrangement leaves lots of space for clever chording and hyper-fast licks while maintaining a casual and airy feel.
Onstage, Tommy Emmanuel executes a move that is not from the playbook of his hero, Chet Atkins.
Recorded live at the Sydney Opera House, the Australian guitarist’s new album reminds listeners that his fingerpicking is in a stratum all its own. His approach to arranging only amplifies that distinction—and his devotion to Chet Atkins.
Australian fingerpicking virtuoso Tommy Emmanuel is turning 70 this year. He’s been performing since he was 6, and for every solo show he’s played, he’s never used a setlist.
“My biggest decision every day on tour is, ‘What do I want to start with? How do I want to come out of the gate?’” Emmanuel explains to me over a video call. “A good opener has to have everything. It has to be full of surprise, it has to have lots of good ideas, lots of light and shade, and then, hit it again,” he says, illustrating each phrase with his hands and ending with a punch.“You lift off straightaway with the first song, you get airborne, you start reaching, and then it’s time to level out and take people on a journey.”
In May 2023, Emmanuel played two shows at the Sydney Opera House, the best performances from which have been combined on his new release, Live at the Sydney Opera House. The venue’s Concert Hall, which has a capacity of 2,679, is a familiar room for Emmanuel, but I think at this point in his career he wouldn’t bring a setlist if he was playing Wembley Stadium. On the recording, Emmanuel’s mind-blowingly dexterous chops, distinctive attack and flair, and knack for culturally resonant compositions are on full display. His opening song for the shows? An original, “Countrywide,” with a segue into Chet Atkins’ “El Vaquero.”
“When I was going to high school in the ’60s, I heard ‘El Vaquero’ on Chet Atkins’ record, [1964’s My Favorite Guitars],” Emmanuel shares. “And when I wrote ‘Countrywide’ in around ’76 or ’77, I suddenly realized, ‘Ah! It’s a bit like “El Vaquero!”’ So I then worked out ‘El Vaquero’ as a solo piece, because it wasn’t recorded like that [by Atkins originally].
“The co-writer of ‘El Vaquero’ is Wayne Moss, who’s a famous Nashville session guy who played ‘da da da’ [sings the guitar riff from Roy Orbison’s ‘Pretty Woman’]. And he played on a lot of Chet’s records as a rhythm guy. So once when I played ‘El Vaquero’ live, Wayne Moss came up to me and said, ‘You know, you did my part and Chet’s at the same time. That’s not fair!’” Emmanuel says, laughing.
Atkins is the reason Emmanuel got into performing. His mother had been teaching him rhythm guitar for a couple years when he heard Atkins on the radio and, at 6, was able to immediately mimic his fingerpicking technique. His father recognized Emmanuel’s prodigious talent and got him on the road that year, which kicked off his professional career. He says, “By the time I was 6, I was already sleep-deprived, working too hard, and being forced to be educated. Because all I was interested in was playing music.”
Emmanuel talks about Atkins as if the way he viewed him as a boy hasn’t changed. The title Atkins bestowed upon him, C.G.P. (Certified Guitar Player), appears on Emmanuel’s album covers, in his record label (C.G.P. Sounds), and is inlaid at the 12th fret on his Maton Custom Shop TE Personal signature acoustic. (Atkins named only five guitarists C.G.P.s. The others are John Knowles, Steve Wariner, Jerry Reed, and Atkins himself.) For Emmanuel, even today most roads lead to Atkins.
When I ask Emmanuel about his approach to arranging for solo acoustic guitar, he says, “It was really hit home for me by my hero, Chet Atkins, when I read an interview with him a long time ago and he said, ‘Make your arrangement interesting.’ And I thought, ‘Wow!’ Because I was so keen to be true to the composer and play the song as everyone knows it. But then again, I’m recreating it like everyone else has, and I might as well get in line with the rest of them and jump off the cliff into nowhere. So it struck me: ‘How can I make my arrangements interesting?’ Well, make them full of surprises.”
When Emmanuel was invited to contribute to 2015’s Burt Bacharach: This Guitar’s in Love with You, featuring acoustic-guitar tributes to Bacharach’s classic compositions by various artists, Emmanuel expresses that nobody wanted to take “(They Long to Be) Close to You,” due to its “syrupy” nature. But for Emmanuel, this presented an entertaining challenge.
He explains, “I thought, ‘Okay, how can I reboot “Close to You?’ So even the most jaded listener will say, ‘Holy fuck—I didn’t expect that! Wow, I really like that; that is a good melody!’ So I found a good key to play the song in, which allowed me to get some open notes that sustain while I move the chords. Then what I did is, in every phrase, I made the chord unresolve, then resolve.
Tommy Emmanuel's Gear
“I’m writing music for the film that’s in my head,” Emmanuel says. “So, I don’t think, ‘I’m just the guitar,’ ever.”
Photo by Simone Cecchetti
Guitars
- Three Maton Custom Shop TE Personals, each with an AP5 PRO pickup system
Amps
- Udo Roesner Da Capo 75
Effects
- AER Pocket Tools preamp
Strings & Picks
- Martin TE Signature Phosphor Bronze (.012–.054)
- Martin SP strings
- Ernie Ball Paradigm strings
- D’Andrea Pro Plec 1.5 mm
- Dunlop medium thumbpicks
“And then to really put the nail in the coffin, at the end, ‘Close to you’ [sings melody]. I finished on a major 9 chord which had that note in it, but it wasn’t the key the song was in, which is a typical Stevie Wonder trick. All the tricks I know, the wonderful ideas that I’ve stolen, are from Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder, Lionel Richie, James Taylor, Carole King, Neil Diamond. All of the people who wrote really incredibly great pop songs and R&B music—I stole every idea I could, and I tried to make my little two-and-a -half minutes as interesting and entertaining as possible. Because entertainment equals: Surprise me.”
I share with Emmanuel that the performances on Live at the Sydney Opera House, which include his popular “Beatles Medley,” reminded me of another possible arrangement trick. In Harpo Marx’s autobiography, Harpo Speaks, I preface, Marx writes of a lesson he learned as a performer—to “answer the audience’s questions.” (Emmanuel says he’s a big fan of the book and read it in the early ’70s.) That happened for me while listening to the medley, when, after sampling melodies from “She’s a Woman” and “Please Please Me,” Emmanuel suddenly lands on “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”
I say, “I’m waiting for something that hits more recognizably to me, and when ‘While My Guitar’ comes in, that’s like answering my question.”
“It’s also Paul and John, Paul and John, George,” Emmanuel replies. “You think, ‘That’s great, that’s great pop music,’ then, ‘Wow! Look at the depth of this.’”Often Emmanuel’s flights on his acoustic guitar are seemingly superhuman—as well as supremely entertaining.
Photo by Ekaterina Gorbacheva
A trick I like to employ as a writer, I say to Emmanuel, is that when I’m describing something, I’ll provide the reader with just enough context so that they can complete the thought on their own.
“You can do that musically as well,” says Emmanuel. He explains how, in his arrangement of “What a Wonderful World,” he’ll play only the vocal melody. “When people are asking me at a workshop, ‘How come you don’t put chords behind that part?’ I say, ‘I’m drawing the melody and you’re putting in all the background in your head. I don’t need to tell you what the chords are. You already know what the chords are.’”
“Wayne Moss came up to me and said, ‘You know, you did my part and Chet’s at the same time. That’s not fair!’”
Another track featured on Live at the Sydney Opera House is a cover of Paul Simon’s “American Tune” (which Emmanuel then jumps into an adaptation of the Australian bush ballad, “Waltzing Matilda”). It’s been a while since I really spent time with There GoesRhymin’ Simon (on which “American Tune” was first released), and yet it sounded so familiar to me. A little digging revealed that its melody is based on the 17th-century Christian hymn, “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded,” which was arranged and repurposed by Bach in a few of the composer’s works. The cross-chronological and genre-lackadaisical intersections that come up in popular music sometimes is fascinating.
“I think the principle right there,” Emmanuel muses, “is people like Bach and Beethoven and Mozart found the right language to touch the heart of a human being through their ears and through their senses ... that really did something to them deep in their soul. They found a way with the right chords and the right notes, somehow. It could be as primitive as that.
Tommy Emmanuel has been on the road as a performing guitarist for 64 years. Eat your heart out, Bob Dylan.
Photo by Jan Anderson
“It’s like when you’re a young composer and someone tells you, ‘Have a listen to Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind,”’ he continues. “‘Listen to how those notes work with those chords.’ And every time you hear it, you go, ‘Why does it touch me like that? Why do I feel this way when I hear those chords—those notes against those chords?’ I say, it’s just human nature. Then you wanna go, ‘How can I do that!’” he concludes with a grin.
“You draw from such a variety of genres in your arrangements,” I posit. “Do you try to lean into the side of converting those songs to solo acoustic guitar, or the side of bridging the genre’s culture to that of your audience?”
“I stole every idea I could, and I tried to make my little two-and-a-half minutes as interesting and entertaining as possible. Because entertainment equals: Surprise me.”
“If I was a method actor,” Emmanuel explains, “what I’m doing is—I’m writing music for the film that’s in my head. So, I don’t think, ‘I’m just the guitar,’ ever. I always think it has to have that kind of orchestral, not grandeur, but … palette to it. Because of the influence of Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel, and Elton John, especially—the piano guys—I try to use piano ideas, like putting the third in the low bass a lot, because guitar players don’t necessarily do that. And I try to always do something that makes what I do different.
“I want to be different and recognizable,” he continues. “I remember when people talked about how some players—you just hear one note and you go, ‘Oh, that’s Chet Atkins.’ And it hit me like a train, the reason why a guy like Hank Marvin, the lead guitar player from the Shadows.... I can tell you: He had a tone that I hear in other players now. Everyone copied him—they just don’t know it—including Mark Knopfler, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, all those people. I got him up to play with me a few times when he moved to Australia, and even playing acoustic, he still had that sound. I don’t know how he did it, but it was him. He invented himself.”
YouTube It
Emmanuel performs his arrangement of “What a Wonderful World,” illustrating how omitting a harmonic backdrop can have a more powerful effect, especially when playing such a well-known melody.
Guest columnist Dave Pomeroy, who is also president of Nashville’s musicians union, with some of his friends.
Dave Pomeroy, who’s played on over 500 albums with artists including Emmylou Harris, Elton John, Trisha Yearwood, Earl Scruggs, and Alison Krauss, shares his thoughts on bass playing—and a vision of the future.
From a very young age, I was captivated by music. Our military family was stationed in England from 1961 to 1964, so I got a two-year head start on the Beatles starting at age 6. When Cream came along, for the first time I was able to separate what the different players were doing, and my focus immediately landed on Jack Bruce. He wrote most of the songs, sang wonderfully, and drove the band with his bass. Playing along with Cream’s live recordings was a huge part of my initial self-training, and I never looked back.
The electric bass has a much shorter history than most instruments. I believe that this is a big reason why the evolution of bass playing continues in ways that were literally unimaginable when it began to replace the acoustic bass on pop and R&B recordings. Players like James Jamerson, Joe Osborn, Carol Kaye, Chuck Rainey, and David Hood made great songs even better with their bass lines, pocket, and tone. Playing in bands throughout my teenage years, I took every opportunity I could to learn from musicians who were more experienced than I was. Slowly, I began to understand the power of the bass to make everyone else sound better—or lead the way to a train wreck! That sense of responsibility was not lost on me. As I continued to play, listen, and learn, a gradual awareness of other elements came to the surface, including the three Ts: tone, timing, and taste.
I was ready to rock the world with busy lines and bass solos when I moved to Nashville in the late ’70s, and I was suddenly transported into the land of singer-songwriters. It was a huge awakening when I heard the lyrics of artists like Guy Clark, whose spare yet powerful stories and simple guitar changes opened up a whole new universe in reverse for me. It was a reset for sure, but gradually I found ways to combine my earlier energetic approach in different ways. Playing what’s right for a song is a very subjective thing.
“If the song calls for you to ramp up the energy and lead the way like Chris Squire, Bootsy Collins, Geddy Lee, Sting, Flea, Justin Chancellor, or so many others, trust yourself and go for it.”
Don Williams, whom I worked with for many years, was known as a man of few words, but he gave me some of the best musical advice I ever received. I had been with him for just a few months when he pulled me aside one night after a show, and quietly said, “Dave, you don’t have to play what’s on the records, just don’t throw me off when I’m singing.” In other words: It’s okay to be creative, but listen to what’s going on around you. I never forgot that lesson.
As I gradually got into recording work, in an environment where creativity is combined with efficiency and experimentation is sometimes, but not always, welcome, I focused on tone as a form of expression, trying to make every note count. As drum sounds got much bigger during the ’80s, string bass was pretty much off the table as an option in most situations. Inspired by German bassist Eberhard Weber, I bought an electric upright 5-string built by Harry Fleishman a few years earlier. That theoretically self-indulgent purchase gave me an opportunity to carve out a tone that would work with both big drums and acoustic instruments. It gave me an identifiable sound and led to me playing that bass on records with artists like Keith Whitley, Trisha Yearwood, Alison Krauss, Emmylou Harris, and the Chieftains.
In a world of constantly evolving and merging musical styles, the options can be almost overwhelming, so it’s important to trust yourself. Ultimately, you are making a series of choices every time you pick up the instrument. Whether it’s pick versus fingers versus thumb, or clean versus overdrive versus distortion, and so on … you are the boss of your role in the song you are playing. When the sonic surroundings you find yourself in change, so can you. It’s all about listening to what is going on around you and finding that sweet spot where you can bring the whole thing together while not attracting too much attention.
On the other hand, if the song calls for you to ramp up the energy and lead the way like Chris Squire, Bootsy Collins, Geddy Lee, Sting, Flea, Justin Chancellor, or so many others, trust yourself and go for it. Newer role models like Tal Wilkenfeld, Thundercat, and MonoNeon have raised the bar yet again. The beauty of it all is that the bass and its role keep evolving.
Right now, I guarantee there are young bassists of all descriptions we have not yet heard who are reinventing the bass and its role in new ways. That’s what bass players do—we are the glue that ties music together. Find your power and use it!
A satin finish with serious style. Join PG contributor Tom Butwin as he dives into the PRS Standard 24 Satin—a guitar that blends classic PRS craftsmanship with modern versatility. From its D-MO pickups to its fast-playing neck, this one’s a must-see.
PRS Standard 24 Satin Electric Guitar - Satin Red Apple Metallic
Standard 24 Satin, Red App MetA reverb-based pedal for exploring the far reaches of sound.
Easy to use control set. Wide range of sounds. Crush control is fun to explore. Filter is versatile.
Works best as a stereo effect, which may limit some players.
$299
Old Blood Noise Endeavors Dark Star Stereo
oldbloodnoise.com
The Old Blood Dark Star Stereo (DSS) is one of those pedals that lives beyond simple effect categorization. Yes, it’s a digital reverb. But like other Old Blood designs, it’s such a feature-rich, creative take on that effect that to think of it as a reverb feels not only imprecise but unfair.
The Old Blood Dark Star Stereo (DSS) is one of those pedals that lives beyond simple effect categorization. Yes, it’s a digital reverb. But like other Old Blood designs, it’s such a feature-rich, creative take on that effect that to think of it as a reverb feels not only imprecise but unfair.
In this case, reverb describes how the DSS works more than how it sounds. I’ve come to think of this pedal as a reverb-based synthesizer, where reverb is the jumping-off point for sonic creation. As such, the sounds coming out of the Dark Star can be used as subtle sweetener or sound design textures, opening up worlds that might otherwise be unreachable.
Reverb and Beyond
Functionally speaking, the DSS starts with reverb and applies a high-/low-pass filter, two pitch shifters, each with a two-octave range in each direction, plus bit-crushing and distortion. Controls for lag (pre-delay), multiply (feedback), and decay follow, with mini knobs for volume, mix, and spread. Additional control features include presets, MIDI functionality, plus expression and aux control.
The DSS can be routed in mono, stereo, or mono-in/stereo-out. Both jacks are single TRS, and it’s easy to switch between settings by holding down the bypass switch and selecting via the preset button.
Although it sounds great in mono, stereo is where this iteration of the Dark Star—which follows the mono Dark Star and Dark Star V2—really comes alive. Starting with the filter, both pitch shifters, and crush knobs at noon—all have center detents—affords the most neutral settings. The result is a pad reverb, as synthetic as but less sparkly than a shimmer. The filter control is a fine way to distinguish clean and effect signals. In low-pass mode, the effect signal can easily get dark and spooky while maintaining fidelity and without getting murky. On the other end, high-pass settings are handy for refining those reverb pads and keeping them from washing out the clarity of the clean signal.
Lower fidelity is close at hand when you want it. The crush control, when turned counterclockwise, reduces the bit rate of the effect signal, evoking all kinds of digitally compromised sounds, from early samplers to cell phones, depending on how you flavor it. Counterclockwise applies distortion to the reverb signal. There’s a lot to explore within the wide ranges of the two pitch controls, too. With a four-octave range, quantized in half steps, the combinations can be extreme, and Dark Star takes on a life of its own.
Formless Reflections of Matter
The DSS is easy to get acquainted with, especially for a pedal with so many features, 10 knobs, and two footswitches. I quickly got a feel for the reverb itself at the most neutral filter and pitch settings, where I enjoyed the weight a responsive, textural pad lent to everything I played.
With just the filter and crush controls, there’s plenty to explore. Sitting in the sweet spot between a pair of vintage Fenders, I conjured a Twin Peaks-inspired hazy fog to accompany honeyed diatonic arpeggios, slowly filtering and crushing that sound into a dark, evil low-end whir as chords leaned toward dissonance. Eventually, I cranked the high-pass filter, producing an early MP3-in-a-good-way “shhh” that was fine accompaniment to sparser voicings along my fretboard. It was a true sonic journeyThe pitch controls increase possibilities for both ambience and dissonance. Simple tweaks push the boundaries of possibility in exponentially deeper directions. For more subtle thickening and accompaniment sounds, adding octaves, which are easy to tune by ear, offers precise tone sculpting, dimension, and a wider frequency range. Hearing simple harmonic ideas plucked against celeste- and organ-like reverberations kept me in the Harold Budd and Brian Eno space for long enough to consider new recording projects.
There is as much fun to be had at the highest feedback settings on the DSS. Be forewarned: Spend too much time there and you might need a name for your new ambient band. Cranking the multiply and decay knobs, I’d drop in a few notes, or maybe just a chord, and get to work scanning the pitch knobs and sculpting with the filter. Soon, I conjured bold Ligeti-inspired orchestral sounds fit for a guitar remix of 2001: A Space Odyssey.
The Verdict
The Dark Star Stereo strikes a nice balance between deep control, a wide range of sonic rewards, playability, and an always-sounds-great vibe. The controls are easy to use, so it doesn’t take long to get in the zone, and once you do, there’s plenty to explore. Throughout my time with the DSS, I was impressed with its high-fidelity clarity. I attribute that to the filter, which allows clean and reverb signals to perform dry/wet balance and EQ functions. That alone encouraged more adventurous and creative exploration. Though not every player needs this kind of tone tool, the DSS is a must-check-out effect for anyone serious about wild reverb adventures, and it’s simple and intuitive enough to be a good fit for anyone just starting exploration of those zones. However you come to the Dark Star, it’s a unique-sounding pedal that deserves attention. PG