
From left to right: Guitarists Mark Holcomb, Misha Mansoor, and Jake Bowen have signature PRS, Jackson Guitars, and Ibanez guitar models, respectively.
The prog-metal juggernauts’ latest is the product of blood, sweat, tears, and a persistent, fierce commitment to raising the bar for themselves—and for djent—that’s matched every step in their career.
It’s not clear exactly when it was coined, but “djent,” the somewhat facetious, catch-all onomatopoeia name of one of today’s most vital and popular heavy metal subgenres, is here to stay. And, perhaps because they’re so well-known as pioneers in that movement, prog-metal disruptors Periphery are making a bit of a tongue-in-cheek statement with the title of their latest record: Periphery V: Djent Is Not a Genre. Of course, despite that resistance, it’s yet another example of their djent prowess—and they’re pretty sure it’s a level up in their catalog.
Periphery - Wax Wings (Official Audio)
“It felt like, ‘How the fuck did we get away with this?’ When we finished it, we all felt like it was a very special album.” says bandleader, producer, and one of the band’s three guitarists, Misha Mansoor. “We’ve never unanimously felt this way. Usually, it’s more exasperation and a sense of ‘Let’s just get it out,’ and a list of compromises we made. This is the first record where I wasn’t thinking about next time.”
It’s safe to assume the band has high standards, considering that their past releases, with their “lists of compromises,” have won them heaps of critical praise, a Grammy nod, and a deeply loyal fanbase. And as Mansoor’s comments suggest, Periphery V is a continuation of a body of work that consistently makes that grade.
The album’s opening track, “Wildfire,” is a barnstorming thesis statement that begins with some of it’s heaviest guitars, which blend into an absolute earworm of a chorus before somehow segueing into a Squarepusher-esque, electronic-jazz bridge—complete with a burning bebop sax solo by Norwegian metal and experimental musician Jørgen Munkeby. Next is “Atropos,” a track with absolutely crushing layers of extended-scale guitars and a performance from vocalist Spencer Sotelo that oscillates between ’90s-anime-soundtrack-ready hooks and metallic aggression.
On their new album, the band repurposed some motifs from past songs in their catalog in a way that felt like they were having a secret handshake with long-time fans.
“Wax Wings” features an unexpected open tuning (D–F#–A–E–A–C#) that co-guitarist Mark Holcomb nicked from the Japanese band, Toe, and some of the album’s most impressive guitar moments, including an opening lick that boasts all of Holcomb’s signature dramatic slides and pull-offs. When asked what guitar passages on the record he’s most proud of, Holcomb quickly points to the solo at the end of “Wax Wings,” saying, “[It’s] actually in that fucked-up open tuning. That sucked. There was the question of whether or not to write the solo in standard because I’d have to do a guitar change if we play the song live. I chose the route of writing the solo in that tuning, so I had to teach myself some new moves. I challenged myself to write a handful of riffs in that tuning that sound like something else.”
On Periphery V, the band’s mission was to be heavier, catchier, and riskier than on their last release, 2019’s Periphery IV: Hail Stan, and, arguably, that’s what they’ve accomplished. That’s even more impressive given how far they’ve come since their founding in 2005, and the ambition they’ve always brought to their work.
The band’s eponymous debut was released over a decade ago—long before social media was filled with young shredders relentlessly putting their metal chops on display. It was a time when the first generation of Fractal Audio Axe-Fx units were only four years old, and guitar-specific plugins were still in their ugly adolescence. And while Periphery has always worn its influences on its sleeve—particularly the pummeling death-metal churn of Swedish polyrhythm wizards Meshuggah and the soaring prog sensibilities of Dream Theater and Opeth—their unique approach to interpreting those sounds and filtering them into something new has set them apart from their peers. After garnering their aforementioned accolades and building their fanbase, Periphery IV was lauded as their most adventurous release to date.
“When we finished it, we all felt like it was a very special album.”—Misha Mansoor
With layers of hulking, downtuned rhythm guitars that any respectable djent record needs, Periphery IV also embraced the sprawling arrangements, infectious melodies, and electronic textures that the group had always flirted with, in a very big way. For the band, the release felt like a triumph. However, the album’s tour cycle ended abruptly when the pandemic hit and, like the rest of the music industry, Periphery was suddenly left rudderless.
Misha Mansoor's Gear
Bandleader and guitarist Misha Mansoor founded Periphery in 2005, after having gained a reputation on online forums for his prog-metal compositions.
Photo by Ekaterina Gorbacheva
Guitars
- Two Jackson USA Misha Mansoor Signature Juggernaut HT7s
- Jackson USA Misha Mansoor Signature HT7 Juggernaut with EverTune Bridge
- Jackson Pro Series Signature Misha Mansoor Juggernaut HT6 with EverTune Bridge and Bare Knuckle Ragnarok pickups
- Jackson Pro Series Signature Misha Mansoor Juggernaut HT6
- Jackson Pro Series Signature Misha Mansoor Juggernaut HT6 with flame maple top
- Jackson MJ Series Signature Misha Mansoor So-Cal 2 PT “Strat”
- Jackson Custom Shop Juggernaut HT8
- Jackson Custom Shop Juggernaut HT8 with fanned frets
Strings & Picks
- Horizon Devices Progressive Tension Heavy 6 set (.010–.058)
- Horizon Devices Progressive Tension Heavy 7 set (.010–.065)
- Horizon Devices Progressive Tension Bulb 8 set (.0095–.074)
- Dunlop Misha Mansoor Custom Delrin Flow Picks, .65 mm live and .73 mm in studio
As co-guitarist Jake Bowen explains, “Periphery IV felt like our proudest accomplishment. How the hell do you move on from that and put something out that hits in the same way? You get to the point in a career where we’re at, and you have to ask if you’re repeating yourself or if everyone’s getting bored of your band’s shtick. You have to be really hard on yourself to get past those things because they prevent bands from growing at the stage we were at.”
It would take the band four years and a scrapped concept album (intended as a companion to 2015’s fan-favorite Juggernaut: Omega) before Periphery V would see the light of day. The process, part of which involved rewriting about three fourths of the record, nearly broke the band.
“We hit some very low moments that we had never faced before while writing this,” Holcomb says. “We’ve been through struggles as a band before. But the hurdles that came along with [this experience]—the dejection and questioning—I had never really confronted before.”
In the early stages, the material intended for the aborted concept record failed to spark Sotelo’s inspiration, who was weathering a divorce and something of an identity crisis during the forced time off from the road. “We recognized that Spencer was going through a vulnerable time, and we encouraged him to harness it and try to turn it into something personal, make it his, and use it as fuel to push forward with what he was doing,” says Holcomb. “That’s why a lot of the lyrical themes go a bit deeper and are a little bit more relatable than on our previous records.”
“We’ve been through struggles as a band before. But the hurdles that came along with [this experience]—the dejection and questioning—I had never really confronted before.”—Mark Holcomb
Rather than fracturing under the pressure, Periphery persevered and came out the other side more unified than ever, with an album that delivered on the blood, sweat, tears, and risk-taking that went into it. “Despite all that bullshit, when it did come together, it did so in a way that I can only describe as magical,” Mansoor shares.
An unexpected facet of Periphery V are the repurposed motifs from past Periphery songs. For example, “Zagreus” has a couple of sonic references to “Four Lights,” and the chorus on “Wildfire” recalls “The Event,” an interlude from Juggernaut. Bowen brought the latter one into the mix, explaining, “The motif from ‘The Event’ creates intervals that are really tough to jump around, but when you nail it, it really works and it makes for a very unusual chorus. It’s just one of those things where it doesn’t make much sense, but it works.”
Jake Bowen's Gear
Guitarist Jake Bowen expresses that the source of Periphery’s music goes beyond the guitar; his and the other guitarists’ connection with one another is what is truly behind the music they produce.
Photo by Ekaterina Gorbacheva
Guitars
- Ibanez Jake Bowen Signature JBM9999
- Ibanez LA Custom Shop Jake Bowen Signature JBM9999
Strings & Picks
- Horizon Devices Jake Bowen Signature (.010–.058 for 6-string, .010–.074 for 7-string)
- Dunlop Tortex Flow Picks .60 mm
The sonic Easter eggs peppered throughout the record have resonated with diehard Periphery fans, who, upon its release, quickly caught on and began compiling lists on online forums of the repurposed themes. Despite seeming like a calculated move, the motifs came to the band in a very organic way. Mansoor explains, “I love reharmonizing stuff and hearing things in a different light. My video-gamer brain loves that, because you hear themes get buried, reintroduced, and mangled throughout a lot of RPGs. Nobuo Uematsu [Japanese composer of the soundtracks to the Final Fantasy video game series, and the inspiration for the track ‘Thanks Nobuo,’] is one of my biggest influences, and he does that a lot in really crazy ways.”
He continues, “We thought people might say, ‘Sounds like they ran out of riffs,’ but the fans had an entirely different perspective; it felt like we were winking at those of them that have been with us since the early records. In retrospect, I realize we have such a loyal and dedicated fanbase and they tend to be very well-versed in our material, so they caught these things that we thought we’d done very subtly, and it makes them feel like we’re connecting with them directly. It feels very much like a secret handshake, and they really reacted to that. I’ve seen people say things like ‘I cried when I heard this,’ in reference to hearing the ‘You're shining and it shows’ theme in ‘Thanks Nobuo,’ which is a callback to ‘The Way the News Goes…’ from 2016’s Periphery III: Select Difficulty. That makes me really happy, and I didn’t expect that kind of reaction.”
Mark Holcomb's Gear
On “Wax Wings,” guitarist Mark Holcomb used the tuning D–F#–A–E–A–C#, which he borrowed from the Japanese band, Toe.
Photo by Ekaterina Gorbacheva
Guitars
- Prototype PRS SE Mark Holcomb Signature with Seymour Duncan Scarlet & Scourge pickups (6-string)
- Prototype PRS SE Mark Holcomb Signature with Seymour Duncan Scarlet & Scourge pickups (7-string)
- PRS SE Silver Sky John Mayer Signature
- PRS Mark Holcomb Signature Private Stock (6-string)
- PRS Mark Holcomb Signature Private Stock (7-string)
Strings & Picks
- Horizon Devices Progressive Tension Heavy 6 set (.010–.058)
- Horizon Devices Progressive Tension Heavy 7 set (.010–.065)Dunlop .88 mm custom picks
Periphery Gear
Amps (all)
- Peavey Invective Misha Mansoor Signature
- Omega Granophyre
- Carstens Grace head
- Suhr Reactive Load Box
- Two Notes IR box
- GetGood Drums Studio Cabs: Zilla Edition
Pedals (all)
- Horizon Devices Precision Drive
- DigiTech Whammy
- TC Electronic Sub ’N’ Up Octaver
- Echoplex EP-2T-Rex Replicator
- D’Luxe Analog Tape Delay
- Echo Fix EF-X2
- Echo Fix EF-X3
- TC Electronic 2290
- Dynamic Digital Delay
- Custom Dunwich HM-2-based drive
While the songs on Periphery V may secretly recall themes from past records, the tone production on the album forges all new territory for the band. “This is the first Periphery album where we used a bunch of real amps. Periphery IV was all Axe-Fx, and even Periphery II was technically a 5150, but it was the Axe-Fx through the 5150 power section,” Mansoor says. When doing blind tone tests with plugins and modeling gear, the power of real tube amps mated with IRs had a distinct advantage that the band couldn’t overlook for the album’s particularly aggressive riffs.
As for the tube amps they ended up using, Mansoor says the heavy lifting was handled by a Peavey Invective (his 5150-based signature model) and an Omega Granophyre. A Carstens Grace was also used for some added layers and some pushed clean passages. Mansoor describes the Grace as having “a unique voicing where it’s very hard to compare it to anything. It’s kind of Marshall-ish, but I think that sells it short.”
“Periphery IV felt like our proudest accomplishment. How the hell do you move on from that and put something out that hits in the same way?”—Jake Bowen
All of the reamping was done with a Two Notes unit and a Suhr Reactive Load Box to keep the tube amps happy without real cabs, and the GetGood Drums Studio Cabs: Zilla Edition sim—mostly programmed with the “Swedish Technique” preset with an extra 4x12 cab with a K-100 speaker in it—completed the tone recipe.
Every amp was boosted by the Precision Drive, a pedal made by Mansoor’s company, Horizon Devices. When asked what that pedal brought to the table that makes it so invaluable to Periphery’s sound, Mansoor describes it as “a boost that helps lower-tuned guitars hit the front end of amps in a way that the amps can handle, because they weren’t designed for that and can flub out with palm-muted parts. The Precision Drive lets you control how much low end you cut, so you dial in the ‘attack’ control to really fine-tune that.” Other effects that played a big role in the guitar sounds on Periphery V were a battery of tape delays, which included Mansoor’s beloved vintage Echoplex EP-2, and modern analog tape delays like the T-Rex Replicator D’Luxe, and the Echo Fix EF-X2 and EF-X3 units. An original TC Electronic 2290 rack unit was also used to add some delay to leads. Mansoor loves the way the 2290 makes everything sound “very 3D.”
All three guitarists relied on their signature-model guitars. Holcomb used the Periphery V sessions as an opportunity to test and hone the prototypes of his SE import line PRS signature models, and also used a PRS Silver Sky John Mayer sig for his parts on “Wax Wings.”
Mansoor called on several of his Jackson Juggernaut signature models, including 6-, 7-, and 8-string variants, Custom Shop versions with fanned frets, and even stock import models. He most often found himself reaching for those that were equipped with EverTune bridges because of how much time they save in the studio. According to Mansoor, the real wildcard that unexpectedly saw a lot of use on Periphery V was his signature model MIJ Jackson SoCal Strat, which he describes as “a sleeper dad-rock guitar in daphne blue that looks like a Strat, with a matching headstock, but is such a shredder.” Mansoor continues to gush about the relatively attainable guitar, saying “It’s so aggressive-sounding. As an HSS Strat, it’s great for split-coil stuff or full single-coil stuff. Nothing beats an actual single-coil, so anything where we wanted that sound, that’s what we used.”
For Bowen, his Ibanez JBM27 signature model was the hero on the album, but he also used an Ibanez LA Custom Shop version of that model for writing. He describes the guitar as “aesthetically a little different, but a mojo machine that has a weirdness to it that makes me play differently. The Ibanez LA Custom Shop guitars are always a little funky in some way. They have a handmade feel, and I write differently based on the guitar I’m playing. Something fun and unusual always comes out when I write on them, because of how quirky they are.”
Periphery - Atropos Live in Sacramento HQ Audio Board Mix 2023
Periphery performs “Atropos,” the second track on Periphery V, creating harmonious textures of thrashing djent guitar and both melodic and screaming vocals in an adventurous, experimental arrangement.
While many players in bands with Periphery’s longevity have a tendency to stop growing, it’s extremely apparent that making Periphery V not only pushed the members to grow as songwriters, but also as guitarists. From Holcomb’s perspective, they’ve all started to sound a bit more like each other through the experience: “We basically lived together as if we were in a dorm and played so much guitar. I think it’d be impossible to not learn something from the guy across from you in that scenario. My voice as a player has definitely changed over the years just from adapting qualities from the two other guitar players in my band.”
Bowen says it’s bigger than guitar at this point: “At the risk of sounding incredibly pretentious, it goes beyond music. We get together and write all of this crazy shit mostly because we like hanging out with each other. The way the music takes shape is an extension of that friendship. When you really love people, the creative connection is greater and you produce better stuff as a result. At least, we do.”
As for the band’s influential ringleader, the real success of Periphery’s guitar brotherhood mirrors both sentiments. Mansoor says of his co-guitarists, “We’re each other’s biggest fans. We all love the way each other sounds and they’re always writing stuff that I wish I wrote. That makes me want to step up my game, because if they’re at that level, I need to level up.
“I’m really grateful because this album felt like it was make or break,” he continues. “In a different universe, this album could have killed us, but because it didn’t, it brought us so much closer together.”
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Stevie Van Zandt with “Number One,” the ’80s reissue Stratocaster—with custom paisley pickguard from luthier Dave Petillo—that he’s been playing for the last quarter century or so.
With the E Street Band, he’s served as musical consigliere to Bruce Springsteen for most of his musical life. And although he stands next to the Boss onstage, guitar in hand, he’s remained mostly quiet about his work as a player—until now.
I’m stuck in Stevie Van Zandt’s elevator, and the New York City Fire Department has been summoned. It’s early March, and I am trapped on the top floor of a six-story office building in Greenwich Village. On the other side of this intransigent door is Van Zandt’s recording studio, his guitars, amps, and other instruments, his Wicked Cool Records offices, and his man cave. The latter is filled with so much day-glo baby boomer memorabilia that it’s like being dropped into a Milton Glaser-themed fantasy land—a bright, candy-colored chandelier swings into the room from the skylight.
There’s a life-size cameo of a go-go dancer in banana yellow; she’s frozen in mid hip shimmy. One wall displays rock posters and B-movie key art, anchored by a 3D rendering of Cream’s Disraeli Gearsalbum cover that swishes and undulates as you walk past it. Van Zandt’s shelves are stuffed with countless DVDs, from Louis Prima to the J. Geils Band performing on the German TV concert seriesRockpalast. There are three copies ofIggy and the Stooges: Live in Detroit. Videos of the great ’60s-music TV showcases, from Hullabaloo to Dean Martin’s The Hollywood Palace, sit here. Hundreds of books about rock ’n’ roll, from Greil Marcus’s entire output to Nicholas Schaffner’s seminal tome, The Beatles Forever, form a library in the next room.
But I haven’t seen this yet because the elevator is dead, and I am in it. Our trap is tiny, about 5' by 5'. A dolly filled with television production equipment is beside me. There’s a production assistant whom I’ve never met until this morning and another person who’s brand new to me, too, Geoff Sanoff. It turns out that he’s Van Zandt’s engineer—the guy who runs this studio. And as I’ll discover shortly, he’s also one of the several sentinels who watch over Stevie Van Zandt’s guitars.
There’s nothing to do now but wait for the NYFD, so Sanoff and I get acquainted. We discover we’re both from D.C. and know some of the same people in Washington’s music scene. We talk about gear. We talk about this television project. I’m here today assisting an old pal, director Erik Nelson, best known for producing Werner Herzog’s most popular documentaries, like Grizzly Man and Cave of Forgotten Dreams. Van Zandt has agreed to participate in a television pilot about the British Invasion. After about half an hour, the elevator doors suddenly slide open, and we’re rescued, standing face-to-face with three New York City firefighters.
As our camera team sets up the gear, Sanoff beckons me to a closet off the studio’s control room. I get the sense I am about to get a consolation prize for standing trapped in an elevator for the last 30 minutes. He pulls a guitar case off the shelf—it’s stenciled in paint with the words “Little Steven” on its top—snaps open the latches, and instantly I am face to face with Van Zandt’s well-worn 1957 Stratocaster. Sanoff hands it to me, and I’m suddenly holding what may as well be the thunderbolt of Zeus for an E Street Band fan. My jaw drops when he lets me plug it in so he can get some levels on his board, and the clean, snappy quack of the nearly 70-year-old pickups fills the studio. For decades, Springsteen nuts have enjoyed a legendary 1978 filmed performance of “Rosalita” from Phoenix, Arizona, that now lives on YouTube. This is the Stratocaster Van Zandt had slung over his shoulder that night. It’s the same guitar he wields in the famous No Nukes concert film shot at Madison Square Garden a year later, in 1979. My mind races. The British Invasion is all well and essential. But now I’m thinking about Van Zandt’s relationship with his guitars.
Stevie Van Zandt's Gear
Van Zandt’s guitar concierge Andy Babiuk helped him plunge deeper down the Rickenbacker rabbit hole. Currently, Van Zandt has six Rickenbackers backstage: two 6-strings and four 12-strings.
Guitars
- 1957 Fender Stratocaster (studio only)
- ’80s Fender ’57 Stratocaster reissue “Number One”
- Gretsch Tennessean
- 1955 Gibson Les Paul Custom “Black Beauty” (studio only)
- Rickenbacker Fab Gear 2024 Limited Edition ’60s Style 360 Model (candy apple green)
- Rickenbacker Fab Gear 2023 Limited Edition ’60s Style 360 Model (snowglo)
- Rickenbacker 2018 Limited Edition ’60s Style 360 Fab Gear (jetglo)
- Two Rickenbacker 1993Plus 12-strings (candy apple purple and SVZ blue)
- Rickenbacker 360/12C63 12-string (fireglo)
- Vox Teardrop (owned by Andy Babiuk)
Amps
- Two Vox AC30s
- Two Vox 2x12 cabinets
Effects
- Boss Space Echo
- Boss Tremolo
- Boss Rotary Ensemble
- Durham Electronics Sex Drive
- Durham Electronics Mucho Busto
- Durham Electronics Zia Drive
- Electro-Harmonix Satisfaction
- Ibanez Tube Screamer
- Voodoo Labs Ground Control Pro switcher
Strings and Picks
- D’Addario (.095–.44)
- D’Andrea Heavy
Van Zandt has reached a stage of reflection in his career. Besides the Grammy-nominated HBO film, Stevie Van Zandt: Disciple, which came out in 2024, he recently wrote and published his autobiography, Unrequited Infatuations (2021), a rollicking read in which he pulls no punches and makes clear he still strives to do meaningful things in music and life.
His laurels would weigh him down if they were actually wrapped around his neck. In the E Street Band, Van Zandt has participated in arguably the most incredible live group in rock ’n’ roll history. And don’t forget Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes or Little Steven and the Disciples of Soul. He created both the Underground Garage and Outlaw Country radio channels on Sirius/XM. He started a music curriculum program called TeachRock that provides no-cost resources and other programs to schools across the country. Then there’s the politics. Via his 1985 record, Sun City, Van Zandt is credited with blasting many of the load-bearing bricks that brought the walls of South African apartheid tumbling into dust. He also acted in arguably the greatest television drama in American history, with his turn as Silvio Dante in The Sopranos.
Puzzlingly, Van Zandt’s autobiography lacks any detail on his relationship with the electric guitar. And Sanoff warns me that Van Zandt is “not a gearhead.” Instead he has an organization in place to keep his guitar life spinning like plates on the end of pointed sticks. Besides Sanoff, there are three others: Ben Newberry has been Van Zandt’s guitar tech since the beginning of 1982. Andy Babiuk, owner of Rochester, New York, guitar shop Fab Gear and author of essential collector reference books Beatles Gear and Rolling Stones Gear (the latter co-authored by Greg Prevost) functions as Van Zandt’s guitar concierge. Lastly, luthier Dave Petillo, based in Asbury Park, New Jersey, oversees all the maintenance and customization on Van Zandt’s axes.
“I took one lesson, and they start to teach you the notes. I don’t care about the notes.” —Stevie Van Zandt
I crawl onto Zoom with Van Zandt for a marathon session and come away from our 90 minutes with the sense that he is a man of dichotomies. Sure, he’s a guitar slinger, but he considers his biggest strengths to be as an arranger, producer, and songwriter. “I don’t feel that being a guitar player is my identity,” he tells me. “For 40 years, ever since I made my first solo record, I just have not felt that I express myself as a guitar player. I still enjoy it when I do it; I’m not ambivalent. When I play a solo, I am in all the way, and I play a solo like I would like to hear if I were in the audience. But the guitar part is really part of the song’s arrangement. And a great solo is a composed solo. Great solos are ones you can sing, like Jimi Hendrix’s solo in ‘All Along the Watchtower.’”
In his autobiography, Van Zandt mentions that his first guitar was an acoustic belonging to his grandfather. “I took one lesson, and they start to teach you the notes. I don’t care about the notes,” Van Zandt tells me. “The teacher said I had natural ability. I’m thinking, if I got natural ability, then what the fuck do I need you for? So I never went back. After that, I got my first electric, an Epiphone. It was about slowing down the records to figure out with my ear what they were doing. It was seeing live bands and standing in front of that guitar player and watching what they were doing. It was praying when a band went on TV that the cameraman would occasionally go to the right place and show what the guitar player was doing instead of putting the camera on the lead singer all the time. And I’m sure it was the same for everybody. There was no concept of rock ’n’ roll lessons. School of Rock wouldn’t exist for another 30 years. So, you had to go to school yourself.”
By the end of the 1960s, Van Zandt tells me he had made a conscious decision about what kind of player he wanted to be. “I realized that I really wasn’t that interested in becoming a virtuoso guitar player, per se. I was more interested in making sure I could play the guitar solo that would complement the song. I got more into the songs than the nature of musicianship.”
After the Beatles and the Stones broke the British Invasion wide open, bands like Cream and the Yardbirds most influenced him. “George Harrison would have that perfect 22-second guitar solo,” Van Zandt remembers. “Keith Richards. Dave Davies. Then, the harder stuff started coming. Jeff Beck in the Yardbirds. Eric Clapton with things like ‘White Room.’ But the songs stayed in a pop configuration, three minutes each or so. You’d have this cool guitar-based song with a 15-second, really amazing Jeff Beck solo in it. That’s what I liked. Later, the jam bands came, but I was not into that. My attention deficit disorder was not working for the longer solos,” he jokes. Watch a YouTube video of any recent E Street Band performance where Van Zandt solos, and the punch and impact of his approach and attack are apparent. At Nationals Park in Washington, D.C., last year, his solo on “Rosalita” was 13 powerful seconds.
Van Zandt and Bruce Springsteen’s relationship goes back to their earliest days on the Jersey shore. “Everybody had a different guitar; your guitar was your identity,” recalls Van Zandt. “At some point, a couple of years later, I remember Bruce calling me and asking me for my permission to switch to Telecaster. At that point, I was ready to switch to Stratocaster.”
Photo by Pamela Springsteen
Van Zandt left his Epiphone behind for his first Fender. “I started to notice that the guitar superstars at the time were playing Telecasters. Mike Bloomfield. Jeff Beck. Even Eric Clapton played one for a while,” he tells me. “I went down to Jack’s Music Shop in Red Bank, New Jersey, because he had the first Telecaster in our area and couldn’t sell it; it was just sitting there. I bought it for 90 bucks.”
In those days, and around those parts, players only had one guitar. Van Zandt recalls, “Everybody had a different guitar; your guitar was your identity. At some point, a couple of years later, I remember Bruce calling me and asking me for my permission to switch to Telecaster. At that point, I was ready to switch to Stratocaster, because Jimi Hendrix had come in and Jeff Beck had switched to a Strat. They all kind of went from Telecaster to Les Pauls. And then some of them went on to the Stratocaster. For me, the Les Paul was just too out of reach. It was too expensive, and it was just too heavy. So I said, I’m going to switch to a Stratocaster. It felt a little bit more versatile.”
Van Zandt still employs Stratocasters, and besides the 1957 I strummed, he was seen with several throughout the ’80s and ’90s. But for the last 20 or 25 years, Van Zandt has mainly wielded a black Fender ’57 Strat reissue from the ’80s with a maple fretboard and a gray pearloid pickguard. He still uses that Strat—dubbed “Number One”—but the pickguard has been switched to one sporting a purple paisley pattern that was custom-made by Dave Petillo.
Petillo comes from New Jersey luthier royalty and followed in the footsteps of his late father, Phil Petillo. At a young age, the elder Petillo became an apprentice to legendary New York builder John D’Angelico. Later, he sold Bruce Springsteen the iconic Fender Esquire that’s seen on the Born to Run album cover and maintained and modified that guitar and all of Bruce’s other axes until he passed away in 2010. Phil worked out of a studio in the basement of their home, not far from Asbury Park. Artists dropped in, and Petillo has childhood memories of playing pick-up basketball games in his backyard with members of the E Street Band. (He also recalls showing his Lincoln Logs to Johnny Cash and once mistaking Jerry Garcia for Santa Claus.)
“I was more interested in making sure I could play the guitar solo that would complement the song. I got more into the songs than the nature of musicianship.” —Stevie Van Zandt
“I’ve known Stevie Van Zandt my whole life,” says Petillo. “My dad used to work on his 1957 Strat. That guitar today has updated tuners, a bone nut, new string trees, and a refret that was done by Dad long ago. I think one volume pot may have been changed. But it still has the original pickups.” Petillo is responsible for a lot of the aesthetic flair seen on Van Zandt’s instruments. He continues, “Stevie is so much fun to work with. I love incorporating colors into things, and Stevie gets that. When you talk to a traditional Telecaster or Strat player, and you say, ‘I want to do a tulip paisley pickguard in neon blue-green,’ they’re like, ‘Holy cow, that’s too much!’ But for Stevie, it’s just natural. So I always text him with pickguard designs, asking him, ‘Which one do you like?’ And he calls me a wild man; he says, ‘I don’t have that many Strats to put them on!’ But I’ll go to Ben Newberry and say, ‘Ben, I made these pickguards; let’s get them on the guitar. And I’ll go backstage, and we’ll put them on. I just love that relationship; Stevie is down for it.”
Petillo takes care of the electronics on Van Zandt’s guitars. Almost all of the Strats are modified with an internal Alembic Stratoblaster preamp circuit, which Van Zandt can physically toggle on and off using a switch housed just above the input jack. Van Zandt tells me, “That came because I got annoyed with the whole pedal thing. I’m a performer onstage, and I’m integrated with the audience and I like the freedom to move. And if I’m across the stage and all of a sudden Bruce nods to me to take a solo, or there’s a bit in the song that requires a little bit of distortion, it’s just easier to have that; sometimes, I’ll need that extra little boost for a part I’m throwing in, and it’s convenient.”
In recent times, Van Zandt has branched out from the Stratocaster, which has a lot to do with Andy Babiuk's influence. The two met 20 years ago, and Babiuk’s band, the Chesterfield Kings, is on Van Zandt’s Wicked Cool Records. “He’d call me up and ask me things like, ‘What’s Brian Jones using on this song?’” explains Babiuk. “When I’d ask him why, he’d tell me, ‘Because I want to have that guitar.’ It’s a common thing for me to get calls and texts from him like that. And there’s something many people overlook that Stevie doesn’t advertise: He’s a ripping guitar player. People think of him as playing chords and singing backup for Bruce, but the guy rips. And not just on guitar, on multiple instruments.”
Van Zandt tells me he wanted to bring more 12-string to the E Street Band this tour, “just to kind of differentiate the tone.” He explains, “Nils is doing his thing, and Bruce is doing his thing, and I wanted to do more 12-string.” He laughs, “I went full Paul Kantner!” Babiuk helped Van Zandt plunge deeper down the Rickenbacker rabbit hole. Currently, Van Zandt has six Rickenbackers backstage: two 6-strings and four 12-strings. Each 12-string has a modified nut made by Petillo from ancient woolly mammoth tusk, and the D, A, and low E strings are inverted with their octave.
Van Zandt explains this to me: “I find that the strings ring better when the high ones are on top. I’m not sure if that’s how Roger McGuinn did it, but it works for me. I’m also playing a wider neck.”
Babiuk tells me about a unique Rick in Van Zandt’s rack of axes: “I know the guys at Rickenbacker well, and they did a run of 30 basses in candy apple purple for my shop. I showed one to Stevie, and purple is his color; he loves it. He asked me to get him a 12-string in the same color, and I told him, ‘They don’t do one-offs; they don’t have a custom shop,’ but it’s hard to say no to the guy! So I called Rickenbacker and talked them into it. I explained, ‘He’ll play it a lot on this upcoming tour.’ They made him a beautiful one with his OM logo.”
The purple one-off is a 1993Plus model and sports a 1 3/4" wide neck—1/8" wider than a normal Rickenbacker. Van Zandt loved it so much that he had Babiuk wrestle with Rickenbacker again to build another one in baby blue. Petillo has since outfitted them with paisley-festooned custom pickguards. When guitar tech Newberry shows me these unique axes backstage, I can see the input jack on the purple guitar is labeled with serial number 01001.“Some of my drive is based on gratitude,” says Van Zandt, “feeling like we are the luckiest guys in the luckiest generation ever.”
Photo by Rob DeMartin
Van Zandt also currently plays a white Vox Teardrop. That guitar is a prototype owned by Babiuk. “Stevie wanted a Teardrop,” Babiuk tells me, “but I explained that the vintage ones are hit and miss—the ones made in the U.K. were often better than the ones manufactured in Italy. Korg now owns Vox, and I have a new Teardrop prototype from them in my personal collection. When I showed it to him, he loved it and asked me to get him one. I had to tell him, ‘I can’t; it’s a prototype, there’s only one,’ and he asked me to sell him mine,” he chuckles. “I told him, ‘It’s my fucking personal guitar, it’s not for sale!’ So I ended up lending it to him for this tour, and I told him, ‘Remember, this is my guitar; don’t get too happy with it, okay?’
“He asked me why that particular guitar sounds and feels so good. Besides being a prototype built by only one guy, the single-coil pickups’ output is abnormally hot, and the neck feels like a nice ’60s Fender neck. Stevie’s obviously a dear friend of mine, and he can hold onto it for as long as he wants. I’m glad it’s getting played. It was just hanging in my office.”
Van Zandt tells me how Babiuk’s Vox Teardrop sums up everything he wants from his tone, and says, “It’s got a wonderfully clean, powerful sound. Like Brian Jones got on ‘The Last Time.’ That’s my whole thing; that’s the trick—trying to get the power without too much distortion. Bruce and Nils get plenty of distortion; I am trying to be the clean rhythm guitar all the time.”
If Van Zandt has a consigliere like Tony Soprano had Silvio Dante, that’s Newberry. Newberry has tech’d nearly every gig with Van Zandt since 1982. “Bruce shows move fast,” he tells me. “So when there’s a guitar change for Stevie, and there are many of them, I’m at the top of the stairs, and we switch quickly. There’s maybe one or two seconds, and if he needs to tell me something, I hear it. He’s Bruce’s musical director, so he may say something like, ‘Remind me tomorrow to go over the background vocals on “Ghosts,”’ or something like that. And I take notes during the show.”
“Everybody had a different guitar; your guitar was your identity. At some point, a couple of years later, I remember Bruce calling me and asking me for my permission to switch to a Telecaster.” —Stevie Van Zandt
When I ask Newberry how he defines Van Zandt’s relationship to the guitar, he doesn’t hesitate, snapping back, “It’s all in his head. His playing is encyclopedic, whether it’s Bruce or anything else. He may show up at soundcheck and start playing the Byrds, but it’s not ‘Tambourine Man,’ it’s something obscure like ‘Bells of Rhymney.’ People may not get it, but I’ve known him long enough to know what’s happening. He’s got everything already under his fingers. Everything.”
As such, Van Zandt says he never practices. “The only time I touch a guitar between tours is if I’m writing something or maybe arranging backing vocal harmonies on a production,” he tells me.
Before we say goodbye, I tell Van Zandt about my time stuck in his elevator, and his broad grin signals that I may not be the only one to have suffered that particular purgatory. When I ask him about the 1957 Stratocaster I got to play upon my release, he recalls: “Bruce Springsteen gave me that guitar. I’ve only ever had one guitar stolen in my life, and it was in the very early days of my joining the E Street Band. I only joined temporarily for what I thought would be about seven gigs, and in those two weeks or so, my Stratocaster was stolen. It was a 1957 or 1958. Bruce felt bad about that and replaced that lost guitar with this one. So I’ve had it a long, long time. Once that first one was stolen, I decided I would resist having a personal relationship with any one guitar. But that one being a gift from Bruce makes it special. I will never take it back on the road.”
After 50 years of rock ’n’ roll, if there is one word to sum up Stevie Van Zandt, it may be “restless”—an adjective you sense from reading his autobiography. He gets serious and tells me, “I’m always trying to catch up. The beginning of accomplishing something came quite late to me. I feel like I haven’t done nearly enough. What are we on this planet trying to do?” he asks rhetorically. “We’re trying to realize our potential and maybe leave this place one percent better for the next guy. And some of my drive is based on gratitude, feeling like we are the luckiest guys in the luckiest generation ever. That’s what I’m doing: I want to give something back. I feel an obligation.”
YouTube It
“Rosalita” is a perennial E Street Band showstopper. Here’s a close-up video from Philadelphia’s Citizens Bank Park last summer. Van Zandt’s brief but commanding guitar spotlight shines just past the 4:30 mark.
“Sometimes, I’d like very much for my guitar to sound exactly like a supa cobra.”
Luthier Creston Lea tells us about his favorite dirt pedal—an Athens, Georgia-made stomp that lets his guitar be a hero.
Let’s face it: Nobody can tell what overdrive pedal you’re using. Whether you’re in a carpeted suburban basement accompanying the hired clown at your nephew’s fifth birthday party or standing on the spot-lit monitor at Wembley, not one person knows whether the pedal at your feet cost $17 or $700, has true bypass, or has an internal DIP switch. Nobody leaning against the barn-dance corncrib or staunching a nosebleed up in the stadium’s cheap seats is thinking, “Heavens yes!! THAT is the sound of a silicone diode!”
So, why buy another overdrive pedal? Or six more? Are they different? (I’m asking myself.) Of course they’re different. (I’m telling myself.) A Turbo Rat is not aKlon. ATube Screamer is not a DS-1. Or is it? I can’t keep track. Why? Because it’s fun to see what the talented manufacturers of the world have to offer. And because any reader who picks up a guitar magazine for any reason other than to swat a fly is curious about what’s new and what other players are using to good effect. You can blow your savings on a guitar—I’d be happy to build you one—or an amp (or vacation or college or discount merlot or a regrettable whole-back tattoo), or you can spend $100 to $300 to satisfy your curiosity. Will anybody in the audience notice? Unlikely. Will you feel better for five minutes or the rest of your life? Maybe. Seems worth rolling the dice from time to time. Nobody gets hurt. And sometimes you’ll find a pedal that pulls something good out of your playing simply by responding to the way you play … which makes you play in new ways, etc., etc., in an infinite loop of delight. Or at least infinite till the next pedal comes along. It feels good. In a troubled and imperfect world, is it so wrong to feel good?
I bought my first overdrive pedal, a well-usedMXR Distortion+, for $25 in 1991. Surely, I could have stopped there. But many others have come and gone in the years since. Have I bought a pedal, sold it, bought it again, sold it again? More than once.
I’ve mostly, finally outgrown the desire for new pedals, but I’m not immune to the occasional itch. Sometimes a trusted brand introduces something I just haveto hear for myself. That’s particularly true in the case of smaller-scale builders whose ears I’ve learned to trust. I’m going to like everythingChris Benson of Benson Amps or Brian Mena of Menatone ever makes, for example, so why not hear it all? Sometimes it’s alluring copywriting that makes me reach for my wallet. Sometimes they just look cool.
Maybe in my case, I just can’t resist a name like Supa Cobra. Sometimes, I’d like very much for my guitar to sound exactly like a supa cobra. When Greer Amps first introduced their Supa Cobra six years ago—described as delivering “chewy medium gain overdrive to awesome crunchy grind!”—I was immediately intrigued.
Oh, how I love the Supa Cobra—a woefully underappreciated pedal now only available from Greer by special request. I’m sure there are smart players who have discovered the joys of its lower-gain settings, but for me it’s perfect for punching through sonic mud and letting my guitar be heard. It lets my guitar be a hero.
I like it best with its 3-way clipping switch set to the middle position, which, according to Greer, bypasses the other modes’ clipping diodes and lets the op amp’s natural drive come through. I can’t say I know exactly what that means, but I know it’s loud and clear and compressed in just the right way to let sustained notes really sing out in a natural, power amp-y manner.
The Supa Cobra’s greatest feature may be the body control that dials in low-end presence without adding any murk. At higher body settings, the notes push on my chest in a way that I find thrilling. I like it around 60 percent with the gain knob turned nearly full up. Perhaps excessive, but life is short. When it’s time to sound big, it’s the biggest-sounding pedal I’ve found. Lots of overtones, but not at the expense of clarity. It’s quick to jump into harmonic feedback at the gain-y settings I like best, but in a beautifully controlled way.
As a matter of fact, I think people do notice what overdrive pedal I’m using. Not that they know it’s a Supa Cobra, but it makes my guitar leap out in a way that so many other pedals have not. To borrow a word from Greer’s Lightspeed Organic Overdrive (also fantastic), it sounds organic. Or, very much unlike a wasp in a tuna can. I think it sounds like music. Loud music.A dual-channel tube preamp and overdrive pedal inspired by the Top Boost channel of vintage VOX amps.
ROY is designed to deliver sweet, ringing cleans and the "shattered" upper-mid breakup tones without sounding harsh or brittle. It is built around a 12AX7 tube that operates internally at 260VDC, providing natural tube compression and a slightly "spongy" amp-like response.
ROY features two identical channels, each with separate gain and volume controls. This design allows you to switch from clean to overdrive with the press of a footswitch while maintaining control over the volume level. It's like having two separate preamps dialed in for clean and overdrive tones.
Much like the old amplifier, ROY includes a classic dual-band tone stack. This unique EQ features interactive Treble and Bass controls that inversely affect the Mids. Both channels share the EQ section.
Another notable feature of this circuit is the Tone Cut control: a master treble roll-off after the EQ. You can shape your tone using the EQ and then adjust the Tone Cut to reduce harshness in the top end while keeping your core sound.
ROY works well with other pedals and can serve as a clean tube platform at the end of your signal chain. It’s a simple and effective way to add a vintage British voice to any amp or direct rig setup.
ROY offers external channel switching and the option to turn the pedal on/off via a 3.5mm jack. The preamp comes with a wall-mount power supply and a country-specific plug.
Street price is 299 USD. It is available at select retailers and can also be purchased directly from the Tubesteader online store at www.tubesteader.com.
The compact offspring of the Roland SDE-3000 rack unit is simple, flexible, and capable of a few cool new tricks of its own.
Tonalities bridge analog and digital characteristics. Cool polyrhythmic textures and easy-to-access, more-common echo subdivisions. Useful panning and stereo-routing options.
Interactivity among controls can yield some chaos and difficult-to-duplicate sounds.
$219
Boss SDE-3 Dual Digital Delay
boss.info
Though my affection for analog echo dwarfs my sentiments for digital delay, I don’t get doctrinaire about it. If the sound works, I’ll use it. Boss digital delays have been instructive in this way to me before: I used a Boss DD-5 in a A/B amp rig with an Echoplex for a long time, blending the slur and stretch of the reverse echo with the hazy, wobbly tape delay. It was delicious, deep, and complex. And the DD-5 still lives here just in case I get the urge to revisit that place.
Tinkering with theSDE-3 Dual Digital Delay suggested a similar, possibly enduring appeal. As an evolution of the Roland SDE-3000rack unit from the 1980s, it’s a texture machine, bubbling with subtle-to-odd triangle LFO modulations and enhanced dual-delay patterns that make tone mazes from dopey-simple melodies. And with the capacity to use it with two amps in stereo or in panning capacity, it can be much more dimensional. But while the SDE-3 will become indispensable to some for its most complex echo textures, its basic voice possesses warmth that lends personality in pedestrian applications too.
Tapping Into the Source
Some interest in the original SDE-3000 is in its association with Eddie Van Halen, who ran two of them in a wet-dry-wet configuration, using different delay rates and modulation to thicken and lend dimension to solos. But while EVH’s de facto endorsement prompted reissues of the effect as far back as the ’90s, part of the appeal was down to the 3000’s intrinsic elegance and simplicity.
In fact, the original rack unit’s features don’t differ much from what you would find on modern, inexpensive stompbox echoes. But the SDE-3000’s simplicity and reliable predictability made it conducive to fast workflow in the studio. Critically, it also avoided the lo-fi and sterility shortcomings that plagued some lesser rivals—an attribute designer Yoshi Ikegami chalks up to analog components elsewhere in the circuit and a fortuitous clock imprecision that lends organic essence to the repeats.
Evolved Echo Animal
Though the SDE-3 traces a line back to the SDE-3000 in sound and function, it is a very evolved riff on a theme. I don’t have an original SDE-3000 on hand for comparison, but it’s easy to hear how the SDE-3 bridges a gap between analog haze and more clinical, surgical digital sounds in the way that made the original famous. Thanks to the hi-cut control, the SDE-3’s voice can be shaped to enhance the angular aspect of the echoes, or blunt sharp edges. There’s also a lot of leeway to toy with varied EQ settings without sacrificing the ample definition in the repeats. That also means you can take advantage of the polyrhythmic effects that are arguably its greatest asset.
“There’s a lot of leeway to toy with varied EQ settings without sacrificing the ample definition in the repeats.”
The SDE-3’s offset control, which generates these polyrhythmic echoes, is its heart. The most practical and familiar echos, like quarter, eighth, and dotted-eighth patterns, are easy to access in the second half of the offset knobs range. In the first half of the knob’s throw, however, the offset delays often clang about at less-regular intervals, producing complex polyrhythms that are also cool multipliers of the modulation and EQ effects. For example, when emphasizing top end in repeats, using aggressive effects mixes and pitch-wobble modulation generates eerie ghost notes that swim through and around patterns, adding rhythmic interest and texture without derailing the drive behind a groove. Even at modest settings, these are great alternatives to more staid, regular subdivision patterns. Many of the coolest sounds tend toward the foggy reverb spectrum. Removing high end, piling on feedback, and adding the woozy, drunken drift from modulation creates fascinating backdrops for slow, sparse chord melodies. Faster modulations throb and swirl like old BBC Radiophonic Workshop sci-fi sound designs.
By themselves, the modulations have their own broad appeal. Chorus tones are rarely the archetypal Roland Jazz Chorus or CE type—tending to be a bit darker and mistier. But they do a nice job suggesting that texture without lapsing into caricature. There are also really cool rotary-speaker-like textures and vibrato sounds that offer alternatives to go-to industry standards.
The Verdict
The SDE-3’s many available sounds and textures would be appealing at $219—even without the stereo and panning connectivity options, a useful hold function, and expression pedal control that opens up additional options. The panning capabilities, in particular, sparked all kinds of thoughts about studio applications. Mastering the SDE-3 takes just a little study—certain polyrhythms can be dramatically reshaped by the interactivity of other controls and you need to take care to achieve identical results twice. But this is a pedal that, by virtue of its relative simplicity and richness and breadth of sounds, exceeds the utility of some similarly priced rivals, all while opening up possibilities well outside the simple echo realm