The great multi-instrumentalist, world music pioneer, and larger-than-life personality is warmly remembered by his friend, veteran music journalist and musician Dan Forte.
People often ask me, “Who was the best musician you ever met?” or, “Who was your favorite interviewee?” I always say David Lindley and David Lindley. Across 47 years and some 1,000-plus interviews, with such fascinating subjects as Frank Zappa and George Harrison and master musicians the caliber of Stéphane Grappelli and James Jamerson, Lindley takes the cake.
Have you ever been too depressed to cry? That’s been my condition since hearing that Lindley died on the morning of March 3 due to complications with long Covid. I did nine articles on David and interviewed him several times more. In the grand scheme of things, it’s very rare for a writer and artist to become friends and have a relationship beyond the interview. But there was a connection from our first meeting, and I was lucky enough to spend quality, “off the clock” time with David.
I’ve been asked to share a few stories about Lindley … not to make it all about Me, but to illustrate what kind of person, as well as musician, he was.
In 1967, I saw the man in Kaleidoscope, arguably the first “world music” rock band, decades before the term was coined. They played an “Electric Band Session” as part of the Berkeley Folk Music Festival. I was not quite 14. Practically every member of the group was a multi-instrumentalist, and David even brought his huge Gibson harp guitar (an early-20th Century Style U) on the road. At one point they’d gotten themselves situated with their chosen instruments when, just before the downbeat, some fan hollered, “Louisiana Man!” They paused, looked at each, and then started exchanging instruments while the crowd laughed. They proceeded to peel off a terrific rendition of Doug Kershaw’s Cajun classic.
Decades later, I interviewed Ben Harper, who was a neighbor of the Lindleys growing up in Claremont, California. He’s about 15 years younger than I am, and when I told him I’d seen the band, we got into a “No way!” “Way!” exchange à la Wayne’s World.
I first interviewed Lindley in 1977, after a United Farm Workers benefit with Jackson Browne and Warren Zevon. Riding to the hotel with Lindley and Zevon, their back-and-forth had me laughing all the way, including a battle of the Long John Silvers: Robert Newton versus Wallace Beery.
Completing the interview a month later at his home, David allowed me into the “inner sanctum,” where instruments took nearly all floor and wall space—guitars, steels, banjos, mandolins, fiddles, viola de gamba, saz, tar, cümbüş, the Gibson harp guitar, and more. Regarding his approach to disparate instruments, he said, “You know how an ant can taste and hear and smell with one organ—this all-encompassing feeler? That’s more what it’s like … being an ant.”
Blurring lines between traditional and iconoclastic, he studied, investigated, incorporated, and became a prominent voice in styles spanning the globe, on more instruments than even he knew. He said, “I played all kinds of things which were ‘not played’ on guitar.” This included bowing an electric guitar. He laughed, “And it wasn’t Jimmy Page.”
David Lindley lays into a vintage Silvertone. Dan Forte recalls, “He was the first guy I saw in a major act playing Silvertone amp-in-case models or a Dan Armstrong London with two sliding pickups—extracting killer tones—leading me down a rabbit-hole hunt for Goyas and Zim-Gars.”
Photo by Ebet Roberts
In the process, he expanded the parameters of popular music, stylistically and instrumentally, to a degree that precious few can claim.
His inspiration for taking up lap steel was the late bluesman Freddie Roulette. But of influences on the instrument, he said, “I’m basically a sax player”— naming King Curtis, Junior Walker, and David Sanborn.
Obituaries lump him in with soft rock, which was true of much of his ’70s work. But the highlights of countless Jackson Browne concerts were Lindley’s incandescent lap-steel solos on “Doctor My Eyes” and “Running on Empty.” And his performances were also an indelible part of hits by Linda Ronstadt, Rod Stewart, Zevon, Dolly Parton, and many more.
When it finally came time for a solo album, 1981’s El Rayo-X defied and exceeded all expectations. It was mature, fully realized, and original; eclectic but cohesive. Rather than present a Whitman’s sampler of various styles, he said, “I wanted to have a coherent theme to the whole thing.
“You know how an ant can taste and hear and smell with one organ—this all-encompassing feeler? That’s more what it’s like … being an ant.”—David Lindley
His associates were eager to sing his praises, and I was able to interview several. Booker T. Jones said, “He’s the one who makes the band go,” while Ry Cooder declared, “He has the sensitivity that allows him to grasp what the hell is going on.”
Graham Nash described a session with Lindley on fiddle: “I said, ‘I’d like you to stand on the street corner and play like an old bum.’ And he said, ‘Boy, that’s real easy for me.’”
Ronstadt offered, “He just instinctively gravitates towards something that is extremely high-quality and has integrity in whatever art form he’s contemplating—which is a lovely thing to have.”
Although Lindley supports Jackson Browne on round-neck guitar here, the highlights of countless Browne concerts were Lindley’s incandescent lap-steel solos on “Doctor My Eyes” and “Running on Empty.”
Photo by Ebet Roberts
And Browne stated, “I can’t even call it ‘my music’ when I think about David, because he’s such an integral part of it."
The band David put together, also named El Rayo-X, was without question one of the top five live bands I ever saw. And I saw Jimi Hendrix twice! Mr. Dave had me open for them in 1981, when my surf combo Cowabunga had only done three gigs. But I got to actually play with David in ’98, as part of the Festival d'été de Québec City’s “guitar summit,” featuring Martin Simpson, Bob Brozman, percussionist Wally Ingram, and Lindley on acoustic Hawaiian Weissenborn slide. During a mini-rehearsal, I’m guessing he could sense that I was nervous. (Wouldn’t you be?) But he put me at ease, and wanted to give me a chunk of the spotlight. I asked him if he still did “Brother John,” the Wild Tchoupitoulas song. I had a second line take on “Limbo Rock,” so we stitched them together. Somewhere during my solo, I quoted War’s “Low Rider,” and Lindley was on it in a millisecond.
Things That Lindley Fans Might Not Know About Him
• Correlating his musical aptitude and high school track career, he said, “I could run hurdles the first time—I knew what I was doing. So, they put me in the 120 low hurdles.”
• Also, during high school, he played flamenco in a guitar duo.
• The bane of Lindley’s existence was that loud knock from housekeeping—despite threatening signs he affixed to hotel doors. As good as he was with voices, his impersonation of a mad dog just inside the door was so convincing, the next sound was that of the maid running for dear life.
• He was a great cartoonist, illustrating his solo CDs with comical self-portraits.
• David once mentioned that Peter Lewis of Moby Grape was his cousin. I said, “Isn’t he Loretta Young’s son?” “Yep.” “So, Loretta Young is your aunt?” It’s true: Lindley was part of the same gene pool as the epitome of Hollywood glamor.
• At a time when female producers were extremely rare, he asked Ronstadt to helm his fourth solo album, Very Greasy.
• He was an expert marksman and archer.
• He and guitarist/producer Henry Kaiser traveled to Madagascar to record the acclaimed A World Out of Time albums with indigenous musicians, resulting in considerable income for the Malagasy players and citizens.
The Zone
I’ve always been fascinated with the so-called “zone” musicians sometimes achieve, like a basketball player with a hot hand, when you play something you didn’t know you could. It doesn’t require virtuosity, but the chances for someone with Lindley’s talent surely improves the odds. He described the sort of out-of-body experience. “I fail a lot. When that happens, that’s when you have to fall back on all the mechanical stuff and technique,” he told me in 2006. But being in the zone, he said, was like watching himself from three feet away.
“The bane of Lindley’s existence was that loud knock from housekeeping. His impersonation of a mad dog just inside the door was so convincing, the next sound was that of the maid running for dear life.”
I’ve thought about what influence, if any, David had on me. Not as a guitarist, really, because I can’t play like him; no one can. But he was the first guy I saw in a major act playing Silvertone amp-in-case models or a Dan Armstrong London with two sliding pickups— extracting killer tones—leading me down a rabbit-hole hunt for Goyas and Zim-Gars. He even gave me my pen- and stage-name, Teisco Del Rey. Then there was his clothes. Need I say more?
He was a serious musician not taking himself too seriously. He didn’t hide his wacky sense of humor in order to make music of the highest order. That’s the dichotomy. He wrote songs like “Sport Utility Suck,” “Cat Food Sandwiches,” and “When a Guy Gets Boobs,” and told hilarious stories onstage. He led audiences in singalongs to Frizz Fuller’s “Tiki Torches at Twilight.” So, you’d see this leprechaun in garish polyester, talking about Krispy Kreme donuts, and then he’d play something beautiful like his “Quarter of a Man” or something biting like "Revenge Will Come” [for every child kept down].
He gave me permission to display all sides of my personality, and you have that permission too. We have him to thank for that and so much more.
- Ben Harper’s Arresting Developments ›
- Cult Coils: Lesser-Known Vintage Pickups ›
- Love and Sockets: The Dharma of Producer Dave Cobb’s Dumble Ultra-Phonix ›
The incendiary giant of psychedelic guitar concludes his 21-date world tour this weekend in New York City. In this photo essay, PG’s editorial director reports on the opening date of the sonic architect of Pink Floyd’s historic five-concert run at MSG.
NEW YORK CITY–There’s a low, sustained tone that David Gilmour extracts from his Stratocaster at the beginning of Pink Floyd’s “Sorrow.” It’s the intimidating growl of a robotic tiger–or, more realistically, a blend of low-string sustain, snarling overdrive from a Big Muff, and delay that saturates the air and seems to expand into every bit of open space. It’s almost overpowering in its intensity, but it is also deeply beautiful.
That tone, and so many of the other sounds that Gilmour has conjured in his 46 years of recording with Pink Floyd and as a solo artist, inspired me to leave Nashville to attend the first concert of Gilmour’s five-night stand at Madison Square Garden, on November 4. I’d been lucky enough to catch Gilmour’s tour supporting 1984’s About Face and two later Pink Floyd concerts, but the guitarist is 78 this year, so I felt that the 21 dates he’s playing in a mere four cities might be my last chance to be in the same room with all of his extraordinary tones. Plus, Pink Floyd, and especially Gilmour’s solo recordings and his brilliant Live at Pompeii concert film, was my wife, Laurie’s, and my refuge during the Covid lockdown. This was our opportunity to experience the sorcerer at work in one of his temples, where he and Pink Floyd first played in 1977.
Gilmour wields his Black Cat Strat, which he also played on Luck and Strange’s opener, “Black Cat,” in the studio.
Photo by Emma Wannie/MSGE
Was it worth the price of two concert tickets, flights, two nights in a Midtown hotel, and a subway ride? If you need to ask, it’s likely you’re not as familiar with Gilmour’s playing as I suggest that you should be. For guitarists, outside-the-box musical thinkers, and lovers of exceptional songwriting–and even concert lighting effects and live sound–this show was a perfect 10. Gilmour and his ensemble, including his daughter Romany, performed a well-chosen set of tunes by Pink Floyd and from Gilmour’s solo work, including his recent album Luck and Strange, which is more about composition than guitar exposition. Live, this was not the case. “Luck and Strange,” “A Single Spark,” and others from the album were expanded to include 6-string excursions that–in his signature style–took the lyrics as their inspiration and expanded their emotional architecture.
A close-up of Gilmour’s famed Workmate guitar, a 1955 Fender Esquire that once belonged to Seymour Duncan.
Photo by Emma Wannie/MSGE
Repeatedly, Gilmour displayed his ability to play the perfect parts, and especially solos, for each song. Some, of course, like “Time,” require sticking to text, but his expansions of “Breathe” and other numbers incorporated subtle improvisations dappled by pitch-changing, his emotive string bending, and numerous shifts in tone and phrasing that nonetheless always respected his unmistakable core sound. In Nashville, a frequent compliment is that a musician “always plays the perfect part.” For me, that’s a warning that I’m probably going to hear very professional and predictable playing all night long, and that’s usually boring. But Gilmour’s ear-opening sounds and phrases are constantly peppered with surprises–a hallmark of his characterful virtuosity. In the first of his Garden shows, he stepped outside the box while always respecting its contents, and it was a pleasure to hear him repeatedly practice that high art.
Guy Pratt remarked, while speaking to the audience before the show, that his first gig at MSG with Gilmour had been 37 years and one day earlier. Live, it was clear that Pratt is Gilmour’s right-hand man, as he set up cues for the other players.
Photo by Emma Wannie/MSGE
A pre-tour rumor was that Gilmour would not be playing any Pink Floyd numbers. That seemed unlikely, given his role as the composer and vocalist of so many of the band’s showcase songs. And, indeed, “Speak to Me,” “Breathe,” “Time,” “Marooned” (with its pitch-defying solo), “Wish You Were Here,” “High Hopes,” “Sorrow,” “A Great Day for Freedom,” “The Great Gig in the Sky,” “Coming Back to Life,” and “Comfortably Numb” were all present during the roughly two-and-a-half hours of music. What seemed remarkable throughout was not only the perfection of Gilmour’s playing but his ability to still hit every vocal high note with the same energy and accuracy of the original recordings, including his superb recreation of the scatting in “Wish You Were Here.”
Gilmour’s acoustic guitar, especially on “Wish You Were Here,” sparkled with clarity and articulation, and his scatting on that song proved that at 78 he can still summon the power and precision to hit the high vocal notes.
Photo by Emma Wannie/MSGE
“Wish You Were Here” was his first acoustic guitar excursion of the concert, and he and supporting guitarist Ben Worsley made the song a trip in the Wayback Machine, effortlessly conjuring the introduction’s vibrant appeal and deep emotionalism. Their acoustic instruments sounded crisp and resonant through the arena-sized PA, which should not have been surprising given Gilmour and Pink Floyd’s high standards for live sound. And all night, Gilmour’s vocals enjoyed the same clarity, making every lyric understandable, which is quite a feat for any large-hall show. The only quibble is that the drums echoed off the Garden’s back wall, which, given its 19,500 capacity, was on par.
Guy Pratt, David Gilmour, and Ben Worsley keeping the rock in arena rock. In addition to his Fender Jazz Bass, Pratt also played an Ernie Ball Music Man Stingray, and an upright. For electric guitar, Worsley slung a PRS S2 SSH.
Photo by Emma Wannie/MSGE
Romany Gilmour played a vital role in the show, with her voice navigating the Celtic-influenced melody of “Between Two Points,” from Luck and Strange, before joining the already formidable voices of Louise Marshall, and Charlie and Hattie Webb, in the band’s chorus. All four took turns singing lead on Dark Side of the Moon’s wordless masterpiece “The Great Gig in the Sky,” as Marshall played piano and Gilmour took one of his turns on the table-steel guitar.
A crowd’s-eye view, with lighting-enhanced stage fog. At right, just out of frame, is famed keyboardist Greg Phillinganes, who first joined Gilmour’s ensemble as part of the Rattle That Lock tour of Europe and appears in the Live in Pompeii concert film.
Photo by Emma Wannie/MSGE
“In Any Tongue,” from Gilmour’s 2014 album Rattle That Lock, was, of course, a musical highlight, ignited by that grizzly tone, but furthered by expressive, powerhouse solos from both Gilmour and Worsley. The song’s anti-war theme was enhanced by the same back-projected, heart-breaking video shown in 2016’s Live in Pompeii film, which conveys the idea that military violence spares neither the often-reluctant invaders nor the invaded. And last, of course, came “Comfortably Numb,” with Gilmour’s holy grail guitar solos, perfectly executed as he and the band played from behind an allusive wall of light. With their deep, idiosyncratic bends, rich, howling midrange, and his perfect, vibrato-laden bends, squealing harmonics, touch, and phrasing, these solos were the ultimate 6-string microphone drop.
Gilmour and his Black Cat Strat–partners for the concert’s closing number, “Comfortably Numb,” from Pink Floyd’s The Wall.
Photo by Emma Wannie/MSGE
If that was my last opportunity to hear Gilmour live, it’s understandable. He’s a legend who has earned his status through nearly a half-century of remarkable playing and composing. He has no need to create or perform on any terms beyond his own. I’m simply happy to have been able to bear witness, and to share the experience with you.
D'Addario's new Bridge Pin Puller and Tour-Grade Peg Winder are designed to make string changes a breeze.
The Bridge Pin Puller is designed to be the fastest, easiest, and safest way to remove bridge pins from an acoustic guitar. Small enough to fit in your pocket, the standalone bridge pin puller is a great way for acoustic players to avoid fumbling with bridge pins during string changes and maintenance. The ergonomic design comfortably fits in hand but won’t place extra pressure on the instrument or bridge during use. Best of all, the clamp design encloses the pin, keeping it secure inside the puller until it’s released.
The Tour-Grade Peg Winder offers next-level performance for luthiers, techs, or anyone who wants to change strings with maximum speed and ease. The multi-tool design brings together a ball bearing, non-damaging socket for smoother winding, molded grips, and a spring-loaded bridge pin puller, delivering an all-in-one option to handle most standard string changes.
From the straight-forward simplicity of the Bridge Pin Puller to the all-around convenienceof the Tour-Grade Peg Winder, D’Addario has your string changes covered.
For more information, please visit daddario.com.
Nashville session and stage MVPs craft an aural wonderland with their genre-defying instrumental album, In Stereo.
Working from a shared language of elegance and grit, Nashville guitar domos Tom Bukovac and Guthrie Trapp have crafted In Stereo, an album that celebrates the transcendent power of instrumental music—its ability to transport listeners and to convey complex emotions without words.
In Stereo also honors Trapp and Bukovac’s friendship, which ignited when Trapp and Bukovac met over a decade ago at Nashville’s 12 South Taproom eatery and club—an after-hours musician’s hangout at the time. They also sometimes played casually at Bukovac’s now-gone used instrument shop, but when they’re onstage today—say at Trapp’s Monday night residency at Nashville’s Underdog, or at a special event like Billy Gibbons’ BMI Troubadour Award ceremony last year—their chemistry is obvious and combustible.
“Guthrie is very unpredictable, but for some reason our two styles seem to mix well.”—Tom Bukovac
“It’s like dancing with somebody,” Bukovac says about their creative partnership. “It is very easy and complementary. Guthrie is very unpredictable, but for some reason our two styles seem to mix well, although we play very differently.”
As Pepé Le Pew probably said, “Vive la différence.” While they’re both important figures in Nashville’s guitar culture as badass, in-demand session and live players, Trapp also points out that the foundation of their respective careers is on opposite swings of that pendulum. Bukovac’s reputation was built on his studio work. Besides his touring history, he’s played on over 1,200 albums including recordings by the Black Keys, Glen Campbell, Keith Urban, Stevie Nicks, Bob Seger, and Hermanos Gutiérrez. And Trapp considers himself mostly a stage guitarist. He emerged as a member of the Don Kelly Band, which has been a Lower Broadway proving ground for a host of Nashville 6-string hotshots, including Brent Mason, Johnny Hiland, and Redd Volkaert. In recent years, you may have seen him on the road with John Oates. It’s also possible you’ve heard Trapp on recordings by Rodney Crowell, Emmylou Harris, and Roseanne Cash, among others.But back to In Stereo. “This record is truly for the love of music and not giving a shit what anybody else is going to think about it,” relates Trapp, as he, Bukovac, and I sit and talk, and they noodle unplugged on a Danocaster and an ES-355, respectively, in the warm, instrument-filled surroundings of the Cabin Studio in East Nashville. The album was recorded there and at another studio, simply called the Studio, with Brandon Bell engineering.
“When we started working on the album, it was very loose,” explains Bukovac. “I never wanted to bring in anything that was complete because the key is collaboration. So, I knew better than to come in with a complete song. And Guthrie didn’t do that either. We would just come in with a riff for an idea and then let the other guy finish it—and that’s the best way to do it.”
“It’s got enough humanity—real playing—mixed with the cinematic side of it.”—Tom BukovacAll of which helped make In Stereo’s 11 compositions seamless and diverse. The album opens with a minute-long ambient piece called “Where’s the Bluegrass Band,” which blends acoustic and electric guitars, feedback, and keyboards with generous delay and reverb—telegraphing that listeners should expect the unexpected. Of course, if you’ve been following their careers, including their estimable YouTube presence, you’re already expecting that, too. So, a soulful composition like “The Black Cloud,” which builds from a Beatles-esque melody to a muscular and emotive power ballad of sorts, comes as no surprise. “Desert Man” is more of a mindblower, with its dark-shaded tones and haunting melodies. “Cascade Park” is an unpredictable journey that begins with delay-drenched piano and leads to Trapp’s acoustic guitar, which evolves from contemplative melody to feral soloing. And “Bad Cat Serenade” and “Transition Logo Blues” balance the worlds of country and jazz fusion. Overall, the music is timeless, emotional, and exploratory, creating its own world, much as Ennio Morricone did with his classic film soundtracks.
Tom Bukovac's Gear for In Stereo
Tom Bukovac and his ’58 Les Paul sunburst—one of just a handful of guitars he used to record In Stereo.
Guitars
- 1958 Gibson Les Paul ’Burst
- 1962 Stratocaster
- Harmony acoustic rebuilt by James Burkette
- Jeff Senn Strat
Synth
- Roland XP-30
Amp
- Black-panel Fender Princeton
Effects
- Nobels ODR-1
- Strymon Brigadier dBucket Delay
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario NYXL’s (.010–.046)
- Fender Mediums
“It’s a lot to ask somebody to sit and listen to an instrumental record,” Bukovac offers, “so I was just trying to make sure—and I know Guthrie did the same—it doesn’t get boring. When I finally sat and listened to this thing in its entirety, which was many months after we actually recorded, I had forgotten what we’d even done. I was overwhelmed. I love that I never got bored. It moves along and has moments where it gets into sort of a trance, in a good way, but it never stays there too long. It’s got enough humanity—real playing—mixed with the cinematic side of it.”
Trapp picks up the thread: “If you’re in Nashville for a long time and you’re paying attention at all, you understand this is a song town. No matter how you slice it, it’s all about the vocal and the lyric and the song. So, it doesn’t matter if you’re making an avant-garde instrumental guitar record. That influence is pounded in your brain—how important it is to trim the fat and get down to the song. A song is a song. It doesn't matter if it’s instrumental or not. It’s a ‘Don’t get bogged down and get to the chorus’ kind of thing.”
“A song is a song. It doesn’t matter if it’s instrumental or not. It’s a ‘Don’t get bogged down and get to the chorus’ kind of thing.”—Guthrie Trapp
Which alludes to the sense of movement in all these compositions. “It’s very important that every section of a song delivers every transition,” Bukovac adds. “When you go into a new room, when you open that door, it’s got to be right. That’s what I think about records. And there’s a lot of shifting on this record. We go from one field to another, and were very concerned about making sure that each transition delivers.”
Guthrie Trapp's Gear for In Stereo
Guthrie Trapp recording with his Danocaster Single Cut, made by Nashville’s Dan Strain.
Guitar
- Dan Strain Danocaster Single Cut
Amps
- Kendrick The Rig 1x12 combo
- Black-panel Fender Princeton
Effects
- Strymon Brigadier dBucket Delay
- Strymon Lex
- Nobels ODR-1
- Xotic RC Booster
- T-Rex Tremster
- Boss TU Tuner
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario NYXL’s (.010–.046)
- Medium celluloid
That kind of thoughtful development—the set up and delivery of various compositional sections in songs—isn’t exactly a lost art, but it’s certainly rarer than in earlier decades. Listen to Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road to hear how Davey Johnstone sets up verses, choruses, and bridges—or anything by David Gilmour—for reference. It’s also a goal best accomplished with a team of exceptional players, and, of course, Trapp and Bukovac enlisted some of Music City’s finest. The cast includes steel-guitar legend Paul Franklin, keyboardist Tim Lauer, bassists Steve Mackey and Jacob Lowery, and drummers Jordan Perlson and Lester Estelle.
“Don’t tell my mom, because of course we all want to make a living, but playing music that has integrity is at the top for me.”—Guthrie Trapp
“We recorded the basics—really, most of the tracks—live on the floor,” says Trapp.
“We kept a lot of the original throw-down/go-down solos,” Bukovac adds. “There were very few fixes and overdubs. One of the best moves we made was letting an outside person objectively sequence it, because you can get a little bit too inside your own thing. It’s like … if you’ve ever done a photo shoot, if you let somebody else choose the photo, it’s never going to be the one you’d choose, and it’s probably a better choice.” That task fell to Nick Govrik, another friend and engineer.
The terrain Bukovac and Trapp cover on their first album together is expansive and transporting—and packed with impressive melodies and guitar sounds.
The shipment of In Stereo’s vinyl arrived shortly before Trapp, Bukovac, and I talked, and while Bukovac released his first solo album, Plexi Soul, in 2021, and Trapp put out his releases Pick Peace and Life After Dark in 2012 and 2018, respectively, they seemed as excited to listen to it as teenagers in a garage band unveiling their debut single. That’s because, despite their standing and successes, playing guitar and making music is truly in their blood. What they play is a genuine expression of who they are, ripped from their DNA and presented to the world.
“Don’t tell my mom this, because of course we all want to make a living, but playing music that has integrity is at the top for me,” says Trapp. “These days, with AI and people worried or insecure about where the music business is going, and all these Instagram players who just are fixing everything with Pro Tools so they sound like they’re in a studio, I don’t worry because we’re not selling bullshit. We have 35 years of real experience between us, and when we do social media, we’re just reaching for a cell phone and posting it. It’s organic. That, to me, is a big difference. At the end of the day, I can sleep well knowing that I have earned the respect of the people that I respect the most. It’s just authentic music made for the very reason we got into this in the first place. We love it.”
YouTube It
Guthrie Trapp and Tom Bukovac practice their live chemistry together at Trapp’s standing Monday night gig at Nashville’s guitar-centric Underdog.
Orianthi is partnering with Orange Amplification to release a travel-friendly amp designed to be both functional and reliable.
The new Limited Edition Orianthi Crush 20RT has been played by the respected guitarist, singer-songwriter, in the studio and at live gigs.
The white Tolex-clad, solid-state signature Crush 20RT offers some of the most distinctive tones available in its price range. With the gain turned down, the amp delivers a versatile crystal clean tone. The “dirty channel” can be selected to unleash high levels of detailed creamy distortion to full saturation. The Crush 20RT offers a wide range of sonic possibilities courtesy of an 8”, custom-designed ‘Voice of the World” speaker. From modern sonic punch to vintage tones, this incredibly portable amplifier also includes a 3-band EQ, built-in “spring-inspired” reverb and chromatic tuner.
“I wanted a portable amp I could use anywhere. There’s a soaring tone you get from this amp despite its small, compact size”, comments Orianthi. She continues, “Plus this amp is really diverse - from the clean channel to the dirty channel - there’s warmth and there’s grit, it’s really quite incredible. I think everyone is really going to dig it!”
To experience the new Limited Edition Orianthi Crush 20RT visit your favourite authorised Orange retailer, or learn more online at orangeamps.com.