
Rob Ickes and Trey Hensley first connected in Nashville in 2013, after the two had individually established themselves as formidable players in the bluegrass scene.
The Nashville-based troubadours are paring country music down to its blues and bluegrass roots on Living In A Song—a deeply personal album rife with ace musicianship and earthy introspection.
Life on the road is, quite literally, a driving force in country music. From the baleful strains of Hank Williams’ classic “Lost Highway” to Willie Nelson’s perennially uplifting “On the Road Again,” the endless black ribbon has inspired more songs, with a wider range of moods and emotions than there are twists and turns on a Blue Ridge mountain switchback. So it was only fitting that when Rob Ickes and Trey Hensley started digging into ideas with Grammy-winning producer Brent Maher, they found themselves chasing a familiar theme.
“Three crappy gigs in Ohio had a lot to do with it,” Ickes recalls with a laugh as he recounts the story behind the title cut to Living In A Song, the duo’s fourth album together, and their second with Maher producing. “I remember I was sick that weekend, just wore out, and I was sleeping in the car between soundcheck and showtime. It was just a weird experience, and then a couple of weeks later, Trey started singing this song. In the end, I think it’s about persevering. It can suck out here, but this is what you do when you love something, you know?”
Rob Ickes & Trey Hensley - Thanks
To be sure, the journey to where they are now has covered a lot of miles. After moving cross-country from the Bay Area to Nashville in 1992, Ickes emerged as a fleet-fingered demon on the dobro, first as a founding member of bluegrass band Blue Highway, whose early albums were released on Dick Freeland’s Rebel Records, the original home of bluegrass heroes the Seldom Scene. (That band’s Mike Auldridge, a key influence and eventual collaborator with Ickes, is a dobro legend in his own right.) A long-time player of Tim Scheerhorn’s resonator guitars—with his Wechter Scheerhorn 6500 series signature model introduced in 2006—Ickes is renowned for his singularly wide range of expression on lap steel. Folding down-home blues, country, and jazz into his repertoire, he has shared the spotlight with such heavyweights as Merle Haggard, Earl Scruggs, Vince Gill, and Alison Krauss, to name just a few.
Rig Rundown: Rob Ickes & Trey Hensley
Full Rig Details: https://bit.ly/Ickes-HensleyRRSubscribe to PG's Channel: https://bit.ly/SubscribePGYouTubeClick here to check out their new album Living in ...In 2013, he connected with Hensley in Nashville. Then just 22, Hensley had already carved out his own path as a child prodigy, having made his Grand Ole Opry debut with Earl Scruggs himself at the tender young age of 11. Brandishing a stalwart ’54 Martin D-28, he’s a sterling and technically gifted flatpicker whose own contemporaries claim him as an influence, but one of his most endearing traits is undoubtedly his humility. Just ask him to tell the story of how he came to play at the Carter Family Fold for Johnny and June Carter Cash; he still sounds as bowled over by the experience as he must have been when he was a kid.
For Living In A Song, the picking duo worked with producer Brent Maher, with whom they collaborated on 2019’s World Full of Blues.
“Actually, I think we borrowed one of Johnny’s tube mics to record vocals this time,” Hensley says with a smile. In the same train of thought, he name-drops Luther Perkins, whose licks on Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues” were an early inspiration, as well as Roy Nichols—the understated but precision flatpicker on Cash’s classic “Tennessee Flat Top Box,” and later known for his long and legendary stint with Merle Haggard’s band. When it comes to knowing his craft, Hensley is still just as much a student as he is an innovator of country, bluegrass, rockabilly, and good old-fashioned rock ’n’ roll.
All that experience came to bear on Living In A Song, which has its roots in the songwriting sessions that Ickes and Hensley took up in earnest with Brent Maher at his Blueroom Studios in Berry Hill, just outside of Nashville. “Mostly I come at it as a guitar player,” Hensley says with his usual modesty. “I’m a guitar player first, a singer way out in second somewhere, and a songwriter in distant third, you know? So from my perspective, here’s a guitar thing from me or Rob, and then all these cool melodies that Brent would just come up with, seemingly out of thin air. I mean, we wrote 30 songs or more, so that was a totally different experience, and I think that’s the overlying theme of this record. It’s just us being songwriters. That’s how this one is so much different.”
“I mean, we wrote 30 songs or more, so that was a totally different experience, and I think that’s the overlying theme of this record. It’s just us being songwriters.”—Trey Hensley
Maher has worked with all the major players—his biggest songwriting success was “Why Not Me” by the Judds, but he’s engineered and produced sessions with Willie Nelson, Kenny Rogers, Nickel Creek, Shelby Lynne and plenty more. “We had written with Brent a little bit before,” Ickes notes, referring to 2019’s World Full of Blues (which also features guest shots from Vince Gill and Taj Mahal), “but with this record, we definitely made a conscious decision to write most of it. Then when the pandemic came along, it was like okay, we’ve got a little bit more time now. And I wouldn’t say he taught us, but just by working with somebody like that, you learn a lot. I know Trey and I both gained a lot of confidence from the experience, because you just start with nothing, and then after a couple of hours, you’ve got something.”
Rob Ickes' Gear
Ickes has two resonator signature models: one from the Wechter Scheerhorn 6500 series and the other by Byrl Guitars.
Photo by Jim Summaria
Guitars
- Byrl Guitars Rob Ickes Signature Series resonator
- Byrl Guitars flamed-maple shallow-body resonator
- ’40s Oahu Tonemaster lap steel
- 1932 Rickenbacker Frying Pan
- Fishman Nashville Series Resonator Guitar pickups
Amps
- ’65 Fender Deluxe black-panel
Effects
- Fishman Spectrum DI box
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario Medium Bronze (.016–.056)
- BlueChip Reso thumb pick
- Cobalt BP gold-plated finger picks
The album jumps off with the title cut—a slow-building ode that quickly grows inspirational, channeling tastes of Kris Kristofferson and Beggars Banquet-era Rolling Stones. Playing Maher’s full-sounding ’80s Gibson J-200 acoustic (his main guitar throughout most of the album), Hensley captures the feeling of solitude from the first line: “Well, I’ve been on this highway for about eight hours now….” with Ickes following on one of several resonators made by Indiana-based luthier Byrl Murdock (who designed and debuted a signature model with Ickes just last year). When the rest of the band kicks in—Pete Wasner on keyboards, Mike Bub on bass, and John Alvey on drums—and Ickes proceeds to rip a lap-steel solo on a vintage Oahu Tonemaster running through Maher’s ’65 black-panel Fender Deluxe, it all becomes clear what they’re going for: a rich, tone-heavy experience, tracked mostly live in the studio with few overdubs, and harking back to a time when capturing the pure essence of the song was the only goal.
“It wasn’t like they got the tape measure out to see how close the microphone was to my guitar, you know?” Hensley jokes. “But there’s a lot of attention to detail. We even toyed around with the idea of cutting analog, but tape just breaks the budget before you even get started. In the end, it didn’t matter. With Brent and his engineer Charles [Yingling], it just seems like they get great sounds in that room without really thinking about it too much.”
And when they plugged in, the same principles applied. You can hear a taste of the Allman Brothers in the barrelhouse anthem “Moonshine Run,” where Hensley grabs a ’52 Telecaster copy, built by Bristol, Tennessee’s own Chuck Tipton. “I talked Chuck into building me a Tele because he had just taken all these blueprints of a real ’52, or maybe even a ’51 Broadcaster—one of these really killer guitars,” he explains. “It’s been my main electric up until recently, and the Fender Deluxe just crushes the damn thing. I hooked up my wah on the third verse for five seconds just to please myself [laughs]! That amp makes anything sound good.”
“We even toyed around with the idea of cutting analog, but tape just breaks the budget before you even get started. In the end, it didn’t matter.”—Trey Hensley
And once again, it’s this commitment to capturing a sound, always in service to the song, that makes Living In A Song such a compelling document. Whether it’s in the poignant Glenn Campbell-isms of “Backstreets Off Broadway” (with Ickes blending seamlessly on background vocals), or the rapidfire energy that propels their version of the Doc Watson classic “Way Downtown” (a Martin D-28 vehicle for Hensley, with bluegrass ace Stuart Duncan burning up his fiddle in tribute), or the spontaneous mischief that sparked “Louisiana Woman” (a jam inspired from-the-hip by Buck Owens’ famed “Diggy Liggy Lo,” and rounded out by Tim Lauer on accordion), Ickes and Hensley are so sympatico with where they’re headed, at this point it just seems to come naturally.
“Most of our favorite records are very live-in-the-studio,” Ickes observes, “so that’s typically the way we operate. And it goes really quick. I don’t think we’ve taken more than two days to make a record yet.”
Trey Hensley's Gear
Hensley made his debut at the Grand Ole Opry, playing with Earl Scruggs, when he was just 11 years old.
Photo by Jim Summaria
Guitars
- ’80s Gibson J-200
- 1954 Martin D-28
- 2021 Martin D-41 standard (on tour)
- 1965 Harmony Sovereign Deluxe H1265
- Preston Thompson acoustic with Gene Parsons B-bender
- Chuck Tipton T-style
- L.R. Baggs Anthem SL pickup
Amps
- ’65 Fender Deluxe black-panel
- Fender Tone Master Deluxe (live)
Effects
- L.R. Baggs Voiceprint DI box
- Boss CE-2W Waza Craft Chorus
- Boss HM-2W Waza Craft Heavy Metal Distortion
- DigiTech Whammy Ricochet
- Electro-Harmonix Micro Q-Tron
- Grace Design ALiX preamp
- Keeley Reverb
Strings & Picks
- D'Addario Nickel Bronze (.013–.056)
- BlueChip TAD60 picks
For his part, Ickes also finds it easier to tap into a deeper level of expression, and some of that has to do with his main instrument. “I was playing Scheerhorns forever, but Byrl’s guitars have just a little more crispness,” he says. “What I like in a really good dobro—and I think a lot of this actually has to do with the way they do the bridge, but there’s a response time. I mean, this guitar is in your face frickin’ immediately. It just seems like it gets to my ear quicker than any other guitar I’ve played. And that’s exciting, you know? It’s like a force or something.”
The excitement becomes visceral on songs like A.P. Carter’s “I’m Working On A Building” and the haunting ballad “I Thought I Saw A Carpenter,” which Ickes wrote for his dying father. His flawless instincts on lap steel are beginning to reach that rarified zone where the chord choices that would ordinarily originate with a pedal-steel guitar have crept into his playing—sometimes unexpectedly, but always with a relaxed sense of intention that still keeps him grounded.
“Most of our favorite records are very live-in-the-studio, so that’s typically the way we operate. I don’t think we’ve taken more than two days to make a record yet.”—Rob Ickes
There’s one player he cites as a key influence. “Jerry Byrd, man,” he says without hesitation. “He had this way of playing that was like a voice, you know? Obviously on a slide instrument, the pitch is very critical, and very difficult, and he just never missed it. It came from his soul, and at the same time he was just a great technician. You never heard the bar; you never heard the pick. All you heard was the music.”
For Living In A Song, as the title suggests, Rob and Trey explored their songwriting abilities more earnestly than on previous records.
Photo by Jeff Fasano
“Technically on the dobro, we don’t usually give a lot of vibrato,” he continues, “but he did, and it didn’t sound nervous. To me, that opened up a whole new way of playing using my left hand that I had never considered, because I didn’t want that nervous sound. And I honestly don’t know how he does it, but it’s kind of rubbed off on me. Somehow I’m able to do it, and it just sounds more in tune.”
Of course, the act of songwriting itself describes an ongoing journey toward self-discovery—the “long and winding road” that can lead to enlightenment, or wisdom, or redemption, or any exalted state you can imagine when you’re tapping into what Harlan Howard called “three chords and the truth.” As if to accentuate the point, Hensley takes the album’s concluding song, “Thanks,” as an example of the serendipity that can unfold so suddenly when you attune yourself to what’s right in front of you.
“I mean, this guitar is in your face frickin’ immediately. It just seems like it gets to my ear quicker than any other guitar I’ve played.”—Rob Ickes
“A friend of mine, Lyle Brewer, had written the melody,” he recalls, “and he asked me if I might want to write something to it. And honestly, it just sat there for a bit, because I didn’t listen to it with enough intention to really focus on it, but the title of the song as he had written it was ‘Thanks.’ And of course I’m a big Tom T. Hall fan, and as soon as I heard it, it sounded like something he would have written. It just came to me and it was done. It was done before it ever began, really. I feel like that song always existed, and I just stumbled on it, you know?”
When the duo convened with Maher at the studio to record it, lightning struck again. “It was just us, me and Rob and Brent, sitting in the studio with a few mics up, with no real intention other than we’re gonna get this down as a demo. And I remember Brent—you can hear it. He picks up a guitar about a verse in, and starts hitting the back of it, as a percussion thing, you know? We got to listening to it, and Brent told us, ‘What do you think if we just use this version? It has a vibe to it, and it’s silly to try it again if we’ve already got it.’ And I love it, because that’s the version that made the record. Every time I hear Brent pick up that guitar, it just makes me smile.”
YouTube It
Ickes and Hensley perform the title track from Living In A Song, with Trey leading with his rich vocal and acoustic textures before Rob enters with his signature resonator twang and harmonies.
Killswitch Engage are, from left to right, Justin Foley on drums, guitarist Adam Dutkiewicz, vocalist Jesse Leach, bassist Mike D’Antonio, and guitarist Joel Stroetzel.
The metalcore pioneers return with an album for the times, This Consequence, that explores division, war, and other modern-day troubles to the tune of the band’s tandem guitar duo’s brutal, lockstep riff-ery.
“We don’t consider ourselves politicians or into politics by any means, but the sense of national unrest, and the unwillingness to work together, it’s really grated on us,” admits Killswitch Engage guitarist/producer Adam Dutkiewicz (Adam D, professionally). “It’s manifested itself into the songs and lyrics.”
As a result, Killswitch Engage’s ninth full-length LP, This Consequence, has all the hallmarks of a band meeting its moment. It’s been nearly a quarter-century since they released their eponymous debut, and they’ve subsequently achieved a career-sustaining amount of success as one of the main architects of the metalcore genre, but This Consequence is likely their first album to highlight such a clearly articulated, socially conscious through line.
Lyrically, cause-and-effect is a driving theme on This Consequence, and Killswitch Engage (KSE) captures the zeitgeist of the 2020s with incisive, often cautionary, commentary regarding topics like war, hatred, division, and falling in line. Musically, the band has channeled those same sources of inspiration into performances that feel more urgent, and thus more sincere, creating a viscerally brutal yet brilliantly melodic slab of postmodern metalcore. KSE has long held a reputation for having a good time and riling up crowds with uncontainable energy and unpredictable performances, but it’s been hard to ignore the degradation of discourse in this country over the last decade, even for these renowned ringmasters.
KSE was formed in 1999 in Westfield, Massachusetts, from the remnants of Overcast and Aftershock, two prominent local metal bands. KSE’s early lineup featured founding members Dutkiewicz on drums and Mike D’Antonio on bass, along with vocalist Jesse Leach and guitarist Joel Stroetzel. The fledgling band quickly gained attention for its mix of melodic and death-metal influences: a musical amalgamation that would become the template for metalcore. The band’s second album, 2002’s Alive or Just Breathing, was pivotal, marking a major shift in their sound and identity, with a dual-guitar attack leading the charge. In order to accurately render that album in concert, Dutkiewicz switched to guitar, and they brought in Tom Gomes on drums. The record includes some of the band’s most iconic songs to date, including, “My Last Serenade,” “Fixation on the Darkness,” and “The Element of One.” Adopting a two-guitar approach was a masterstroke and Alive or Just Breathing has since become one of metalcore’s most definitive albums, blending deft, tightly synchronized guitar riffs with battering rhythms, guttural verses, melodic choruses, and a hardcore punk attitude. It was a winning formula that enabled KSE to build a huge fan base.
“Everything I bring to the table, I tell them, ‘We can throw it away.’”–Adam Dutkiewicz
In 2004, they released The End of Heartache, their first to feature Howard Jones on lead vocals and Justin Foley on drums. The album reached No. 21 on the Billboard200 and earned a Best Metal Performance Grammy nomination for the title track. Songs like “When Darkness Falls” and “Rose of Sharyn” continued to elevate KSE’s status within the metalcore hierarchy. In 2009, Jones left and Leach returned. Disarm the Descent was released in 2013 and debuted at No. 7 on the Billboard200, marking the band’s highest charting debut to that point. Incarnate followed in 2016, and then Atonement, their first release on Metal Blade, in 2019. KSE was on a roll with Leach firmly back in the fold, and ready to tour when the pandemic struck. During the downtime, inspiration hit, so they regrouped, wrote, rehearsed, and eventually recorded This Consequence. Songs like “Aftermath,” “Abandon Us,” and “Broken Glass” exemplify the kind of relatable cultural commentary that can be cathartic for today’s disenfranchised—especially when paired with the band’s other equally memorable musical attributes.
In riffs they trust: Killswitch Engage’s Adam Dutkiewicz (left) and Mike Stroetzel prefer strong, arranged guitar parts that create scenes within arrangements, rather than flash shredding.
Photo by Mike White
The writing and rehearsal process for This Consequence was the first time since Alive or Just Breathing that all five members convened in a studio to work out the material before recording. Like many artists nowadays, KSE had been writing and recording remotely for at least the last decade. Stroetzel says it was great to be able to work on the tunes together, in the same room, and that, musically, it allowed the arrangements to come together a little bit faster. “Especially the songs that were only partially finished,” chimes in Dutkiewicz. In addition to his role on guitar, Dutkiewicz has been the band’s producer—his major at Berklee—almost since inception. Perhaps having a skill set with that kind of overview is why he’s also the only member of the group to craft fully fleshed-out songs on his own. And yet, even he recognizes how his material benefitted from their rehearsal process this time. “It was really good for everybody in the band to get their hands on their instruments, learn the riffs, and then tweak them to their level of comfort,” he says. “They’re more invested in the song that way because their voice and their sound is on it. And when we play the song live, it’s more their song, instead of that song that Adam wrote.”
“A tight staccato section needs a wide, harmonically rich section to complement it. We try our best to have scenes in a song like that.”–Adam Dutkiewicz
The cultural continuity of the lyrics on This Consequence didn’t just come about by happenstance, either. It’s not a concept album per se, but the band encouraged Leach to continually refine his lyrics and elevate his ideas and topics. “When you’re writing lyrics for that many songs at once, it’s easy to fall into the tendency of writing about the same topics, with the same vibe,” says Dutkiewicz. “He just needed to try something completely different.” As a result, Leach tapped into his own angst about the current state of world affairs, bestowing upon This Consequence the kind of social relevance that previous KSE albums never quite captured so succinctly. “Jesse gets the gold star for trying the hardest,” commends Dutkiewicz.
Per usual, Adam Dutkiewicz served as producer for the new album, but engineer Mark Lewis at MRL Studios in Nashville, Tennessee, played a significant role in determining its final sonic character.
Dutkiewicz isn’t particularly attached to his own musical ideas or songs and admits he’s willing to deconstruct just about anything for the good of the group, even after he’s submitted a complete demo to the rest of the guys. “Everything I bring to the table, I tell them, ‘We can throw it away.’ I think a big part of being an artist is just the creation of things and sometimes the destruction of things.” Dutkiewicz’s willingness to analyze material from that perspective is part of what makes him such a good de facto producer for the band. “It’s just not having an ego about anything,” he says. “You always have to remember you have to do what’s best for the song and not for my riff.” Another theme that runs through KSE songs on This Consequence, and in general, is how their arrangements work. They employ a visual, almost cinematic approach to production and songcraft. “It’s almost like you want scenes in a song,” explains Dutkiewicz. “A tight staccato section needs a wide, harmonically rich section to complement it. We try our best to have scenes in a song like that.”
“We play together a little behind the beat now. Before, we were fighting each other a little bit.”—Joel Stroetzel
Dutkiewicz and Stroetzel have been playing guitar together since long before the release of Alive or Just Breathing, mostly because the former has always worn multiple hats within the band, and share many of the same influences, including Megadeth, Slayer, Testament, Sepultura, and especially Metallica. They both credit James Hetfield for setting the bar when it comes to their own obsession with fast, articulate rhythm-guitar playing. As Stroetzel got older he gravitated towards classic rock, especially Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin. “Now I can play things other than metal,” he jokes. Dutkiewicz, on the other hand, got into the classic stuff at a younger age, citing his early infatuation with Eddie Van Halen and Angus Young. “It’s more so Angus Young’s spirit and onstage attitude,” he clarifies. Dutkiewicz’s high-energy stage presence validates that sentiment.
Adam Dutkiewicz’s Gear
Adam Dutkiewicz, telegraphing his love of suds, onstage at Los Angeles’ Wiltern Theatre in February 2022, playing his Caparison TAT Special FX “Metal Machine” with Fishman Fluence Signature Series Killswitch Engage Pickups.
Photo by Debi Del Grande
Guitars
- Caparison TAT Special FX “Metal Machine” with Fishman Fluence Signature Series Killswitch Engage Pickups
Amps
- Kemper Profiler
- Kemper Stage
- Mesa/Boogie 4x12 cabs with Celestion speakers
Effects
- Electro-Harmonix Magnum 44 Power Amp
- Maxon OD808 Overdrive
Strings, Picks, Microphones, &
Accessories
- D’Addario EXL115 XL Nickel Wound (.011– .049)
- In-Tune XJ Jazz 1.14 mm
- Shure ULXD and GLXD wireless systems
- sE V7 Dynamic Microphones
- D’Addario Planet Waves cables
Stroetzel confesses that it took some time to develop into the symbiotic guitar tandem that’s become a signature musical element of the KSE sound. “We play together a little behind the beat now,” he explains. “Before, we were fighting each other a little bit. I always thought Adam had a very forward style with his picking, but he’s mellowed over the years. I had to pick up the pace a little, Adam relaxed a little bit, and I think we found a happy midpoint. It only took 25 years [laughter].” Part of the challenge has been adapting to how the other person writes. “I struggle with some of Joel’s articulate phrasing sections,” explains Dutkiewicz. “I’m just a big mangler and he’s got these well-phrased sections. And I’m just like, ‘God, ah.’ He plays a lot more guitar than me, so his string skipping and pick phrasing is way beyond what I’m capable of doing.” Stroetzel says he struggles with some of Dutkiewicz’s chord voicings because he has such big hands. “Some of these chords he can reach, I’m like, ‘Man, how do you even do that?’”
“Just hearing the Kemper for the first time, and what it could actually do, was pretty impressive, especially for high-gain tone.”—Joel Stroetzel
Surprisingly, however, they don’t actually even take guitar solos in the traditional sense. “We’re not necessarily looking to throw leads on everything,” admits Dutkiewicz. “To us, it’s just a musical interlude. You can’t have vocals [constantly] for three minutes and 30 seconds, so it’s just a quick little side journey in the song.” One of the closest things to an actual guitar solo is probably on the opening track “Abandon Us,” right after the first chorus, which features the nimble-fingered fretwork of Dutkiewicz, but even that’s more like a short detour than a bona fide lead break. Instead, they tend to incorporate a lot of Thin Lizzy/Iron Maiden-style harmony parts and deploy single-note phrases, counter melodies, and sub-hooks to the vocals in bridges and choruses, weaving a layered tapestry of melodic ear candy. Songwriting is ultimately their primary focus, and the songs are relatively short and to the point for a metal band, so there doesn’t seem to be a need to clutter things up with unnecessary solos. When it comes to crafting such parts, the general rule of thumb for assigning these melodious forays is whoever writes the song, or initiates the song idea, does the honors. And so, songs like “Discordant Nation,” “I Believe,” and “Requiem” highlight Stroetzel’s nuanced lyrical phrases, while “Abandon Us” and “Where It Dies” feature Dutkiewicz’s more shred-like soloing style.
When it comes to tone, Stroetzel in particular remains a big fan of tube amps, and the band has a long history of utilizing heads from boutique manufacturers like Diezel, Framus, and Friedman. In recent years, however, software sounds have gotten much better, and they’ve gravitated towards profiling amps and plugins, especially live. “Just hearing the Kemper for the first time, and what it could actually do, was pretty impressive, especially for high-gain tone,” explains Stroetzel. “If you want an aggressive metal tone, I think the Kemper does a nice job capturing that, and it works great live—we’re consistent from night to night.” And besides, they both openly admit it’s not like KSE requires a lot of nuanced technique. “We don’t have very delicate parts in our songs,” jokes Dutkiewicz. “Even our clean tones aren’t very touch sensitive.”
Joel Stroetzel's Gear
Joel Stroetzel, here, and Adam Dutkiewicz both play signature-model Caparison guitars. Stroetzel’s is a Dellinger-JSM V2.
Photo by Debi Del Grande
Guitars
- Caparison Dellinger-JSM V2 with Fishman Fluence Signature Series Killswitch Engage Pickups
Amps
- Kemper Profiler
- Kemper Stage
- Mesa/Boogie 4x12 cabs with Celestion speakers
Effects
- Electro-Harmonix Magnum 44 Power Amp
- Maxon OD808 Overdrive
Strings, Picks, Microphones, &
Accessories
- D’Addario EXL115 XL Nickel Wound (.011–.049)
- D’Addario Duralin Black Ice 1.10 mm
- Shure ULXD and GLXD wireless systems
- sE V7 Dynamic Microphones
- D’Addario Planet Waves cables
Dutkiewicz says that what listeners end up hearing, tone-wise, is ultimately up to whoever mixes the album, which, in the case of This Consequence, was Mark Lewis at MRL Studios in Nashville, Tennessee. Aside from that, everything else is very cut-and-dried. Stroetzel says there’s always a Maxon OD808 on everything they do that’s dirty. “Throw a little bit of that boost in there, and it just kind of compresses the tone a little bit and brings out the midrange a little more,” he explains. “And then, all we really need is a noise gate. That’s it.” They both play Caparison signature model guitars, incorporating elements of other instruments they’ve played over the years. “I’ve always liked Fender-style guitars—Strats and Teles,” says Stroetzel. “So, my signature model is constructed with those in mind, but to sound a little bit thicker and have some thunder in the low end, like a hot-rod metal guitar.” Dutkiewicz says his guitar was designed with simplicity in mind. “I was ruining guitars on tour,” he admits. “I had a bolt-on once, and my sweat got into the bolt holes and it actually rotted out. I couldn’t believe it. Sweat was getting in the cavity of the guitar, and it was cutting out the pickups and causing corrosion on the electronics inside. So, I got rid of the neck pickup and made it a neck-through. I’m a mangler, so it’s loud, bright, and obnoxious, just like me [laughter].”
As for their revered place in the pantheon of metalcore, Stroetzel takes the humble approach, as many in his position often do, saying they’re not really concerned with putting a label on KSE. “We all just try to put in elements of what we like,” he says. “Everybody in the band has listened to so many different types of music over the years. It’s like, ‘Who cares if this is a hardcore song or a thrash song?’ It doesn’t really matter. I don’t think we’ve ever tried to stick to a specific style. We’re just a rock band.”
YouTube It
In this full-set performance from 2023’s Wacken Open Air festival in Itzehoe, Germany, Killswitch Engage dances the line between beauty and brutality.
The National New Yorker lived at the forefront of the emerging electric guitar industry, and in Memphis Minnie’s hands, it came alive.
This National electric is just the tip of the iceberg of electric guitar history.
On a summer day in 1897, a girl named Lizzie Douglas was born on a farm in the middle of nowhere in Mississippi, the first of 13 siblings. When she was seven, her family moved closer to Memphis, Tennessee, and little Lizzie took up the banjo. Banjo led to guitar, guitar led to gigs, and gigs led to dreams. She was a prodigious talent, and “Kid” Douglas ran away from home to play for tips on Beale Street when she was just a teenager. She began touring around the South, adopted the moniker Memphis Minnie, and eventually joined the circus for a few years.
(Are you not totally intrigued by the story of this incredible woman? Why did she run away from home? Why did she fall in love with the guitar? We haven’t even touched on how remarkable her songwriting is. This is a singular pioneer of guitar history, and we beseech you to read Woman with Guitar: Memphis Minnie’s Blues by Beth and Paul Garon.)
Following the end of World War I, Hawaiian music enjoyed a rapid rise in popularity. On their travels around the U.S., musicians like Sol Ho’opi’i became fans of Louis Armstrong and the New Orleans Rhythm Kings, leading to a great cross-pollination of Hawaiian music with jazz and blues. This potent combination proved popular and drew ever-larger audiences, which created a significant problem: How on earth would an audience of thousands hear the sound from a wimpy little acoustic guitar?
This art deco pickguard offers just a bit of pizzazz to an otherwise demure instrument.
In the late 1920s, George Beauchamp, John and Rudy Dopyera, Adolph Rickenbacker, and John Dopyera’s nephew Paul Barth endeavored to answer that question with a mechanically amplified guitar. Working together under Beauchamp and John Dopyera’s National String Instrument Corporation, they designed the first resonator guitar, which, like a Victrola, used a cone-shaped resonator built into the guitar to amplify the sound. It was definitely louder, but not quite loud enough—especially for the Hawaiian slide musicians. With the guitars laid on their laps, much of the sound projected straight up at the ceiling instead of toward the audience.
Barth and Beauchamp tackled this problem in the 1930s by designing a magnetic pickup, and Rickenbacker installed it in the first commercially successful electric instrument: a lap-steel guitar known affectionately as the “Frying Pan” due to its distinctive shape. Suddenly, any stringed instrument could be as loud as your amplifier allowed, setting off a flurry of innovation. Electric guitars were born!
“At the time it was positively futuristic, with its lack of f-holes and way-cool art deco design on the pickup.”
By this time, Memphis Minnie was a bona fide star. She recorded for Columbia, Vocalion, and Decca Records. Her song “Bumble Bee,” featuring her driving guitar technique, became hugely popular and earned her a new nickname: the Queen of Country Blues. She was officially royalty, and her subjects needed to hear her game-changing playing. This is where she crossed paths with our old pals over at National.
National and other companies began adding pickups to so-called Spanish guitars, which they naturally called “Electric Spanish.” (This term was famously abbreviated ES by the Gibson Guitar Corporation and used as a prefix on a wide variety of models.) In 1935, National made its first Electric Spanish guitar, renamed the New Yorker three years later. By today’s standards, it’s modestly appointed. At the time it was positively futuristic, with its lack of f-holes and way-cool art deco design on the pickup.
There’s buckle rash and the finish on the back of the neck is rubbed clean off in spots, but that just goes to show how well-loved this guitar has been.
Memphis Minnie had finally found an axe fit for a Queen. She was among the first blues guitarists to go electric, and the New Yorker fueled her already-upward trajectory. She recorded over 200 songs in her 25-year career, cementing her and the National New Yorker’s place in musical history.
Our National New Yorker was made in 1939 and shows perfect play wear as far as we’re concerned. Sure, there’s buckle rash and the finish on the back of the neck is rubbed clean off in spots, but structurally, this guitar is in great shape. It’s easy to imagine this guitar was lovingly wiped down each time it was put back in the case.
There’s magic in this guitar, y’all. Every time we pick it up, we can feel Memphis Minnie’s spirit enter the room. This guitar sounds fearless. It’s a survivor. This is a guitar that could inspire you to run away and join the circus, transcend genre and gender, and leave your own mark on music history. As a guitar store, watching guitars pass from musician to musician gives us a beautiful physical reminder of how history moves through generations. We can’t wait to see who joins this guitar’s remarkable legacy.
SOURCES: blackpast.org, nps.gov, worldmusic.net, historylink.org, Memphis Music Hall of Fame, “Memphis Minnie’s ‘Scientific Sound’: Afro-Sonic Modernity and the Jukebox Era of the Blues” from American Quarterly, “The History of the Development of Electric Stringed Musical Instruments” by Stephen Errede, Department of Physics, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, IL.
In our third installment with Santa Cruz Guitar Company founder Richard Hoover, the master luthier shows PG's John Bohlinger how his team of builders assemble and construct guitars like a chef preparing food pairings. Hoover explains that the finer details like binding, headstock size and shape, internal bracing, and adhesives are critical players in shaping an instrument's sound. Finally, Richard explains how SCGC uses every inch of wood for making acoustic guitars or outside ventures like surfboards and art.
We know Horsegirl as a band of musicians, but their friendships will always come before the music. From left to right: Nora Cheng, drummer Gigi Reece, and Penelope Lowenstein.
The Chicago-via-New York trio of best friends reinterpret the best bits of college-rock and ’90s indie on their new record, Phonetics On and On.
Horsegirl guitarists Nora Cheng and Penelope Lowenstein are back in their hometown of Chicago during winter break from New York University, where they share an apartment with drummer Gigi Reece. They’re both in the middle of writing papers. Cheng is working on one about Buckminster Fuller for a city planning class, and Lowenstein is untangling Austrian writer Ingeborg Bachmann’s short story, “Three Paths to the Lake.”
“It was kind of life-changing, honestly. It changed how I thought about womanhood,” Lowenstein says over the call, laughing a bit at the gravitas of the statement.
But the moment of levity illuminates the fact that big things are happening in their lives. When they released their debut album, 2022’s Versions of Modern Performance, the three members of Horsegirl were still teenagers in high school. Their new, sophomore record, Phonetics On and On, arrives right in the middle of numerous first experiences—their first time living away from home, first loves, first years of their 20s, in university. Horsegirl is going through changes. Lowenstein notes how, through moving to a new city, their friendship has grown, too, into something more familial. They rely on each other more.
“If the friendship was ever taking a toll because of the band, the friendship would come before the band, without any doubt.”–Penelope Lowenstein
“Everyone's cooking together, you take each other to the doctor,” Lowenstein says. “You rely on each other for weird things. I think transitioning from being teenage friends to suddenly working together, touring together, writing together in this really intimate creative relationship, going through sort of an unusual experience together at a young age, and then also starting school together—I just feel like it brings this insane intimacy that we work really hard to maintain. And if the friendship was ever taking a toll because of the band, the friendship would come before the band without any doubt.”
Horsegirl recorded their sophomore LP, Phonetics On and On, at Wilco’s The Loft studio in their hometown, Chicago.
These changes also include subtle and not-so-subtle shifts in their sophisticated and artful guitar-pop. Versions of Modern Performance created a notion of the band as ’90s college-rock torchbearers, with reverb-and-distortion-drenched numbers that recalled Yo La Tengo and the Breeders. Phonetics On and On doesn’t extinguish the flame, but it’s markedly more contemporary, sacrificing none of the catchiness but opting for more space, hypnotic guitar lines, and meditative, repeated phrases. Cheng and Lowenstein credit Welsh art-pop wiz Cate Le Bon’s presence as producer in the studio as essential to the sonic direction.
“On the record, I think we were really interested in Young Marble Giants—super minimal, the percussiveness of the guitar, and how you can do so much with so little.”–Nora Cheng
“We had never really let a fourth person into our writing process,” Cheng says. “I feel like Cate really changed the way we think about how you can compose a song, and built off ideas we were already thinking about, and just created this very comfortable space for experimentation and pushed us. There are so many weird instruments and things that aren't even instruments at [Wilco’s Chicago studio] The Loft. I feel like, definitely on our first record, we were super hesitant to go into territory that wasn't just distorted guitar, bass, and drums.”
Nora Cheng's Gear
Nora Cheng says that letting a fourth person—Welsh artist Cate Le Bon—into the trio’s songwriting changed how they thought about composition.
Photo by Braden Long
Effects
- EarthQuaker Devices Plumes
- Ibanez Tube Screamer
- TC Electronic Polytune
Picks
- Dunlop Tortex .73 mm
Phonetics On and On introduces warm synths (“Julie”), raw-sounding violin (“In Twos”), and gamelan tiles—common in traditional Indonesian music—to Horsegirl’s repertoire, and expands on their already deep quiver of guitar sounds as Cheng and Lowenstein branch into frenetic squonks, warped jangles, and jagged, bare-bones riffs. The result is a collection of songs simultaneously densely textured and spacious.
“I listen to these songs and I feel like it captures the raw, creative energy of being in the studio and being like, ‘Fuck! We just exploded the song. What is about to happen?’” Lowenstein says. “That feeling is something we didn’t have on the first record because we knew exactly what we wanted to capture and it was the songs we had written in my parents’ basement.”
Cheng was first introduced to classical guitar as a kid by her dad, who tried to teach her, and then she was subsequently drawn back to rock by bands like Cage The Elephant and Arcade Fire. Lowenstein started playing at age 6, which covers most of her life memories and comprises a large part of her identity. “It made me feel really powerful as a young girl to know that I was a very proficient guitarist,” she says. The shreddy playing of Television, Pink Floyd’s spacey guitar solos, and Yo La Tengo’s Ira Kaplan were all integral to her as Horsegirl began.
Penelope Lowenstein's Gear
Penelope Lowenstein likes looking back at the versions of herself that made older records.
Photo by Braden Long
Effects
- EarthQuaker Westwood
- EarthQuaker Bellows
- TC Electronic PolyTune
Picks
- Dunlop Tortex 1.0 mm
Recently, the two of them have found themselves influenced by guitarists both related and unrelated to the type of tunes they’re trading in on their new album. Lowenstein got into Brazilian guitar during the pandemic and has recently been “in a Jim O’Rourke, John Fahey zone.”
“There’s something about listening to that music where you realize, about the guitar, that you can just compose an entire orchestra on one instrument,” Lowenstein says. “And hearing what the bass in those guitar parts is doing—as in, the E string—is kind of mind blowing.”
“On the record, I think we were really interested in Young Marble Giants—super minimal, the percussiveness of the guitar, and how you can do so much with so little,” Cheng adds. “And also Lizzy Mercier [Descloux], mostly on the Rosa Yemen records. That guitar playing I feel was very inspiring for the anti-solo,[a technique] which appears on [Phonetics On and On].”This flurry of focused discovery gives the impression that Cheng and Lowenstein’s sensibilities are shifting day-to-day, buoyed by the incredible expansion of creative possibilities that setting one’s life to revolve around music can afford. And, of course, the energy and exponential growth of youth. Horsegirl has already clocked major stylistic shifts in their brief lifespan, and it’s exciting to have such a clear glimpse of evolution in artists who are, likely and hopefully, just beginning a long journey together.
“There’s something about listening to that music where you realize, about the guitar, that you can just compose an entire orchestra on one instrument.”–Penelope Lowenstein
“In your 20s, life moves so fast,” Lowenstein says. “So much changes from the time of recording something to releasing something that even that process is so strange. You recognize yourself, and you also kind of sympathize with yourself. It's a really rewarding way of life, I think, for musicians, and it's cool that we have our teenage years captured like that, too—on and on until we're old women.”
YouTube It
Last summer, Horsegirl gathered at a Chicago studio space to record a sun-soaked set of new and old tunes.