
Bill Dess was working as a cashier in a Harlem bodega in 2016, making songs in his apartment. Then he uploaded one to SoundCloud, and well … sometimes dreams do come true.
Bill Dess, who makes music under the name Two Feet, became a sensation virtually overnight. The 28-year-old's musical career blasted off in 2016 with his breakout song, "Go Fuck Yourself," when he unassumingly uploaded it to SoundCloud in the middle of the night from his rodent-infested apartment in New York City. The next day, he awoke to millions of streams and several major labels courting him. His next hit, "I Feel Like Drowning," reached No. 1 on the Billboard Alternative charts in 2018. In the span of a few years, he went from working as a cashier to traveling the world while opening arena gigs with Panic! at the Disco.
Two Feet's success is an example of what can happen when a guitarist with a vision embraces technology. Dess was making complete songs with just his Strat, a janky microphone, and Ableton. His recipe—impeccably phrased, soulful guitar solos over heavy 808 drumbeats, and breathy vocals—sounds simple enough. Yet, it's unique for an accomplished guitarist who was accepted to Berklee College of Music on scholarship to fuse bluesy guitar lines with thumping electronic beats made with drum pads. For Dess, that was mostly out of necessity: He couldn't jam with a bassist and a drummer in his apartment.
The phrase "electronic music" can be polarizing. It's a bunch of different things with infinite subgenres, but the first type of artist called to mind might not be a multi-instrumentalist who started playing guitar around age 7, spending his teen years playing in jazz and blues ensembles. The musical touchstones and influences Dess cites—Stevie Ray Vaughan, John Mayer, Clapton, Hendrix—reflect a burgeoning blues hound, but also a 6-stringer who spent a fair amount of time chasing the tone dragon. Dess also plays piano, bass, and produced all of his early EPs, as well as his first two LPs: A 20 Something Fuck (2018) and Pink (2020). He largely made this year's release, Max Maco Is Dead Right?, on his own, but the new Two Feet album, coming in late 2021 or early 2022, will have production assistance from Geoffrey Hufford, aka Huff, who is the keyboardist/drummer in Two Feet's live band.
Two Feet - You? (Live)
At the end of high school, Dess got serious about his future in music. "I just thought of going to college, and then what would I do after college? I had some weird sort of break with reality for a second, where I was like, the only thing I really want to do is try to make music," he says. "So, I ended up focusing on that. Obviously, I'd played since I was a little kid, but I didn't ever really think this was what I'd end up doing, because everyone would always say it's impossible, you know, it's all luck or whatever, so it kind of turns you off from trying."
He decided Berklee was where he wanted to go. "My dad was like, 'We can't really afford that,'" Dess recalls. "So, I thought, I'll try to get a scholarship. I saw this video of this guitarist—Jon Gomm, 'Passionflower'—where he does this tapping, crazy guitar thing and I was like, 'I'm going to learn that.' I didn't even really play acoustic guitar. So, I went out and got an acoustic guitar, I fitted mics inside it, and I practiced, practiced, practiced." Dess ended up getting a scholarship but dropped out a few months into the first semester. "I got there and hated how regimented it was. It felt like they were trying to teach everyone there to become teachers rather than musicians. I realized I didn't need to be there to do what I wanted to do. It felt like a waste of time."
"I was obsessed. It's all I played—B.B. King, Wes Montgomery, or Buddy Guy and stuff like that. I didn't ever practice anything else but blues."
It's clear now that all Two Feet needed to craft songs was his Strat and a computer. His roots are as a blues-guitar player, although he was reluctant to say that's exactly where he lands today. "It's sort of a big mix. It also has a lot of rock in it, so it's not purely blues," he says. "I think when I was younger, I would've said that. I was obsessed. It's all I played—B.B. King, Wes Montgomery, or Buddy Guy and stuff like that. I didn't ever practice anything else but blues."
Now, his influences run the gamut. The day of our interview, he was finishing up a mix for the artist Grandson. Throughout the pandemic, he's been listening to Sam Fender, Fred again.., Harry Styles, and the Strokes. The title track to his second album, "Pink," is an homage to Pink Floyd. "I love David Gilmour, and that song has a Pink Floyd tone to it," Dess says. "That's why I named it that." Two Feet's early EPs include songs that are basically accompanied guitar interludes, such as "Quick Musical Doodles," and "Felt Like Playing Guitar and Not Singing."
Two Feet's Gear
Bill Dess, aka Two Feet, shows his support for Britney Spears while channeling a Strat solo at the 2019 Bonnaroo Music & Arts Festival in Manchester, Tennessee.
Photo by Josh Brasted
Guitars
- Fender American Professional Stratocaster customized by Paul Nieto with 1950s-era single-coils, Seymour Duncan humbucker in middle position (olive green)
- Fender American Stratocaster (Olympic white)
- 1980s Fender Strat (red)
- Martin D-42
Amps
- Fender Twin Reverb
Effects
- Boss HM-2W Waza Craft Heavy Metal Distortion
- Ibanez TS9 Tube Screamer
- Hotone Skyline Eko Digital/Analog Delay
- Dunlop Cry Baby Classic Wah
- MXR M300 Digital Reverb
Strings and Picks
- Elixir Strings with NANOWEB Coating, Light (.010–.046)
- Dunlop Tortex Picks 1.14 mm
The shifting dynamics and contrast between the guitar melodies and dropping bass beats is part of what draws you into a Two Feet song: The high/low elements he blends work extremely well together. Or as Dess put it, it's like "a mini genre within a genre." Dess is an alternative-rock artist who builds around electronic music. There was already a community of likeminded musicians building this genre on SoundCloud when Dess came on the scene in 2016.
"At the time, none of it really had blues guitar. It was sort of MGMT-ish, or trap beats with alt singing on it. My bandmate Huff always makes fun of it. He says in a joking, insulting way: 'You created blues-trap music.' I guess that's what I would call it. There was no one who sounded like that before "Go Fuck Yourself" came out. There was no blues guitar with the saw bass pad and the 808 drums. There was no one doing that."
"Sometimes it's easier to rip your shirt and look weird and pretend like a different person so you can get out of your own head and so you can get up there with a lot of confidence, like you're acting."
His latest album, Max Maco Is Dead Right? is an evolution in songwriting for Dess. The concept album was born out of finding ways to cope with fame and anxiety and was inspired by Dess' own inner struggles.
"Max Maco is this character I would get into when I would get nervous," says Dess. "We really, really quickly went from 200-cap rooms to playing in front of 30 thousand people in Mexico. You're standing on the side stage. You see this massive crowd of people, you hear the cheering, and you're freaking out because you're really nervous.
Two Feet on playing guitar: "Most of the time I have to close my eyes and hear and feel, and it just creeps its way up through me. Not even thinking really. It's hard to describe but at the same time it's the simplest thing in the world."
Photo by John D Gray (@itsnotpork)
"Sometimes it's easier to rip your shirt and look weird and pretend like a different person so you can get out of your own head and so you can get up there with a lot of confidence, like you're acting. I created characters in my head for myself before we went onstage. It was part of the entertainment and I think the fans catch onto that, that you're doing something in that moment."
Dess created his Max Maco alter ego during Two Feet's opening spot on Panic! at the Disco's "Pray for the Wicked Tour." The transition from unknown opening act to finding a groove on the road was rocky, Dess admits, but he recalls a moment when everything changed.
TIDBIT: Two Feet's latest release, Max Maco Is Dead Right?, is a concept album based on a character that Bill Dess created and would pretend to be in order to calm his nerves before going onstage in front of big crowds.
"The first few shows were really tough since the music is so unrelated. Why would Panic! at the Disco fans like my music? Then we get to Montreal. We were having a hard time, and it was really cold—so cold we couldn't even go outside. We meandered onto the stage, like 'Oh god, another one of these, everyone's going to be sitting and confused as to what this Brooklyn-heavy sort of sound is.'
"We started playing and the crowd started getting more energetic and more energetic, and I started feeling it in my chest. Then we started playing 'I Feel Like I'm Drowning.' For the first time in my life, 20 thousand people turned on their phone lights and lighters and were swaying. When you're onstage and it's pitch dark in an arena and everyone's swaying their lights, it looks like outer space—it's the most insane thing from the stage, and you're also playing and singing. That happened and it turned the whole tour around. That was one of my favorite memories from my career so far."
At home, Dess is constantly working on new material. He currently has about 30 unreleased songs and is working on a film project, in addition to collaborations and mixes for other artists. "I can't go a day without sitting and writing music," he says. "I'm a total workaholic."
TIDBIT: Bill Dess has several answers about where his Two Feet moniker came from. One is about hearing this quote on Jerry Maguire: "There is an insidious disgusting monster that walks around the earth on two feet and it's a human."
His go-to tool is an olive green Fender Strat, which he plays unplugged at home when writing music. But his favorite guitar is one of the first guitars he ever got—an early 1980s red Fender American Stratocaster, which he's now retired from the road. On the advice of his tech, Paul Nieto, Dess replaces his Strat pickups with vintage standard single-coils from the 1950s, because "the newer ones are wound really tight and buzz too much," he says. "I replaced the center pickup with a [Seymour Duncan] humbucker so I can have that more sustained rock tone for it."
Dess has dozens of pedals, but his live pedalboard stays about five stomps deep. "One of my favorites is a Boss Heavy Metal Distortion pedal," he shares. "It's amazing for when I want to go into a David Gilmour–type thing. I usually use it in conjunction with my classic Tube Screamer. And then I have this tiny little mini delay pedal [Hotone Skyline Eko]. It's the size of an apricot, almost, and it has the most simple settings ever but it just sounds so good. I find a lot of delays sound computer-y and too digital-sounding, and this one has this great natural sound. I've used that for years; I have like 30 of them."
Starting out, Dess toured with a big Marshall stack, but when he started playing bigger shows, he switched to a Fender Twin Reverb. "You hook up to PA system, so it doesn't matter how big the amp is, unless you want it for looks or something," Dess says. "The Fender Twin sounds great with my guitar, it's easy to take onstage, easy to set up, and it's not too complicated, so that's what I use on tour."
One development Dess didn't anticipate is that his music would gain a carnal reputation. He says one of his most "mainstream moments" came when Chart Data released a Top 10 list of artists people have on their "Sex Playlists," which included household names like Drake, the Weeknd, and Ariana Grande. "I was number 9 above Party Next Door," he says.
Two Feet's live band performs as a trio, which includes Bill Dess on guitar and vocals, Geoffrey Hufford on keyboards and drum pads, and Matt Swain behind the drum kit.
Photo by John D Gray (@itsnotpork)
The interesting part about that is, Two Feet's lyrics are not literally suggestive, though many of his songs document the pain of relationships, heartbreak, betrayal, and making mistakes.
"If you use pure statistics, I must be making sexy R&B music [laughs]," he says. "I never looked at it like that. I just tried to make stuff I thought sounded cool and I guess it comes off that way.
"I was analyzing myself the other day. I cover in a lot of songs: the passage of time, existential stuff, and large amounts of relationships and personal stories, lyrically. I don't think a lot of them are the sexiest lyrics. There's not too much of that in the lyrics. I think when people are talking about the 'sexiness,' it's more just the way everything sounds—smoky and dark and bluesy guitar."
His sound is also resonating with the jam-band scene, likely owing to his skilled phrasing, bendy solos, crystalline Strat tone, and a knack for writing melodic hooks on the guitar.
"I can't go a day without sitting and writing music. I'm a workaholic." —Bill Dess
Photo by Shervin Lainez
The ups and downs of becoming a person people recognize on the street, paired with the stress of touring and being a sensitive human, contributed to a difficult time a few years back when Dess took a break to tend to his mental health. But in 2021, he's more ready than ever to get back on the road. With three full albums, and a fourth on the way, Dess has plenty of material to draw from as he readies his live show. He's dipping into more stripped-down performances with just an acoustic guitar, which is a newer approach for him, and writing more traditionally on an acoustic.
"This new album is way more guitar heavy than Max Maco was," he says. "I change what I want to do all the time."
So, is Max Maco dead now? "I don't want to give too much away but he might be around again," Dess offers.
And with a little more experience under his belt, what does it feel like being onstage now?
"All I know is time passes very differently. An hour set sometimes feels like 20 minutes. Most of the time, I have to close my eyes and hear and feel and it just creeps its way up through me and that's how I start improvising and not even thinking. It's hard to describe but at the same time it's the simplest thing in the world."
Two Feet - Digital Mirage (Official Full Set)
Two Feet (Bill Dess) performs a socially distanced streaming concert with his live band in 2020. Two Feet's guitar approach is crafting melodies and soloing on his Strat while the beats drop around him. Check out a tasty example at 4:20.
Versatile guitarist Nathaniel Murphy can be seen and heard on YouTube and Instagram, where he has over 450,000 followers, and demos for Chicago Music Exchange.
Nathaniel Murphy and Steve Eisenberg join the PG staff to wax poetically on what their signature pedal might sound like.
Question: What would your signature pedal sound like?
Guest Picker - Nathaniel Murphy
A: My signature pedal wouldn’t even really be my sound. It would have all of The Edge’s exact sounds and settings in one pedal as presets. No messing with switches or dialing in tones, just cycle through presets and it sounds exactly like “Pride (In the Name of Love),” “Mysterious Ways,” or “Where the Streets Have no Name.” It would be purely just for fun to jam at home. My own pedal would probably just be a reverb!
While recovering from a hand injury, Nathaniel Murphy “really got into picado technique and would watch Paco De Lucia and in particular Matteo Mancuso (above) vids and lessons.
Obsession: Well, I’ve just spent six weeks in a cast after a wrist fracture—very scary. During that time I couldn’t use my fretting hand so I worked on my picking hand. I really got into picado technique and would watch Paco De Lucia and in particular Matteo Mancuso vids and lessons. It’s been really refreshing and also fun working on a new technique for me, even though it’s incredibly tricky and progress is slow. But I love the challenge of it.
Reader of the Month - Steve Eisenberg
A: My signature pedal would be simple to use, have the capability of being shaped with iPhone-app based effects, and expand features as my guitar adventure grows in scope. I’m very much in the experimentation stage with my pedal work, and having direction and guidance available on an iPhone has helped me navigate in a way that ensures I’m meeting some of my guitar-adventure goals.
Obsession: Through the guidance of my instructor, I am exploring fingerstyle guitar, as it has motivated me away from just chord shapes and scale work. I was feeling a little stuck, and using the fingers of the right hand has allowed me to increase my dexterity and coordination, and motivated me to practice more often.
Gear Editor - Charles Saufley
Mr. Saufley, represented by a mallard.
A: The foundation of my signature pedal is the guts of a 1968 Vox Starstream guitar, which is made up of a Vox Distortion Booster fuzz, a Vox Repeat Percussion tremolo, and Vox Treble Booster. Sonically speaking, this is like donning a psych-punk freakbeat cape. Just before the Distortion Booster there is a Grampian 636 reverb preamp circuit to fatten up and color the works. After the freakbeat section, there will be a de- and re-constructed Roland RE-201 Space Echo. Most of the pedal enclosure will be made up of clear Lucite (illuminated by alternating-color lamps), so I can observe the tape swirling within. The RE-201’s spring reverb, meanwhile, will be suspended in its own flip-up Lucite case which will sit on dampers to insulate it from floor vibration. Hopefully, it will sound like Lee “Scratch” Perry producing Love’s “7 and 7 Is”.
Obsession: The first sounds and green and gold flashes of early spring—and the wakeful energy, ideas, and inspiration it brings.
Giving some love to Love!
Art Director - Naomi Rose
A: The enclosure would be hex color #00b4c1—branded as NAOMI blue—checkerboarded with alternating boxes of NAOMI blue glitter flock and matte NAOMI blue. The footswitch would be a bulbous orange rubber material so it’d feel squishy when stepping on it whilst playing barefoot. It would have a kick-out stand in the back like a picture frame, so when it's not in use, it could stand angled on a shelf to be admired. It would be called Ruckus because that's my middle name. What would it DO? That's a secret I will not be sharing at this time.
Our graphic designer’s dream pedal brought to life.
Obsession: Silence. I hardly listen to music or podcasts these days. When I don’t have outside noise, I tend to self-narrate in my head, which leads to making ridiculous little made-up songs throughout the day. These will oftentimes spark cool ideas and manifest into actual songs that I end up recording and producing. Even in the mundane, inspiration is everywhere. Sometimes getting rid of distractions helps you notice it more.
Small spring, big splash—a pedal reverb that oozes surfy ambience and authenticity.
A vintage-cool sonic alternative to bigger tube-driven tanks and digital springs that emulate them.
Susceptible to vibration.
$199
Danelectro Spring King Junior
danelectro.com
Few pedal effects were transformed, enhanced, and reimagined by fast digital processors quite like reverb. This humble effect—readily available in your local parking garage or empty basketball gymnasium for free—evolved from organic sound phenomena to a very unnatural one. But while digital processing yields excellent reverb sounds of every type and style, I’d argue that the humble spring reverb still rules in its mechanical form.
Danelectro’s Spring King Junior, an evolution of the company’s Spring King from the ’aughts, is as mechanical as they come. It doesn’t feature a dwell control or the huge, haunted personality of a Fender Reverb unit. But the Spring King Junior has a vintage accent and personality and doesn’t cost as much as a whole amplifier like a Fender Reverb or reverb-equipped combo does. But it’s easy to imagine making awesome records and setting deep stage moods with this unit, especially if 1950s and 1960s atmospheres are the aim.
Looking Past Little
Size factors significantly into the way a spring reverb sounds. And while certain small spring tanks sound cool—the Roland RE-201 Space Echo’s small spring reverb for one—it’s plain hard to reproduce the clank and splash from a 17" Fender tank with springs a fraction of that length. Using three springs less than 3 1/2" long, the Accutronics/Belton BMN3AB3E module that powers the Spring King Junior is probably not what you want in a knife fight with Dick Dale. Even so, it imparts real character that splits the difference between lo-fi and garage-y and long-tank expansiveness.
In very practical and objective terms, the Danelectro can’t approach a Fender Reverb’s size and cavernousness. Matching the intensity of the Spring King Junior’s maximum reverb and tone settings to my own Fender Reverb’s means keeping dwell, mix, and tone controls between 25 to 30 percent of their max. Depending on your tastes, that might be a useful limitation. If you’ve used a Fender Reverb unit before, you know they can sound fantastically extreme. It’s overkill for a lot of folks, and the Spring King Junior inhabits spaces that don’t overpower a guitar or amplifier’s essence. Many players will find the Spring King Junior simply easier to manage and control.
There are ways to add size to the Spring King Junior’s output. An upstream, edgy clean boost will do much to puff up the Danelectro’s profile next to a Fender. The approach comes with risk: Too much drive excites certain frequencies to the point of feedback. But the Junior’s mellower sounds are abundant and interesting. Darker reverb tones sound awesome, and combined with modest reverb mixes they add a spooky aura to melancholy soul and spartan semi-hollow jazz phrasings—all in shades mostly distinct from Fender units.
Watch Your Step!
Spring reverbs come with operational challenges that you won’t experience in a digital emulation. And though the Spring King Junior is well built, its relative slightness compounds some of those challenges. The spring module, for instance, is affixed to the Spring King Junior’s back panel with two pieces of foam tape. And while kicking a spring reverb to punctuate a dub mix or surf epic is a gas, the Spring King Junior can be susceptible to less intentional applications of this effect. At extra-loud volumes, the unit picks up vibrations from the amplifier’s output when amp and effect are in tight proximity. And sometimes, merely clicking the bypass switch elicits an echo-y “clank”. This doesn’t happen in every performance setting. But it’s worth considering settings where you’ll use the Spring King Junior and how loud and vibration-resistant those spaces will be.
Though the Spring King Junior’s size makes it susceptible to vibration, many related ghost tones—taken in the right measure—are a cool and essential part of its voice. It’s an idiosyncratic effect, so evaluating its compatibility with specific instruments, amps, studio environments, and performance settings is a good idea. But for those that do find a place for the Spring King Junior, its combination of tone color, compact size, and hazy 1960s ambience could be a deep well of inspiration.
Featuring studio-grade Class A circuit and versatile resonance switch, this pedal is designed to deliver the perfect boost and multiple tonal options.
Introducing the Pickup Booster Mini – our classic boost now in a space-saving package! Featuring the same studio-grade Class A circuit and versatile resonance switch that guitarists have trusted for over two decades, this compact pedal provides the perfect boost, while the resonance switch can access multiple tonal characteristics when you want it.
Meet the Pickup Booster Mini, our classic Pickup Booster in a pedalboard space-saving size. It delivers that extra push when you need it, along with our unique resonance switch that adds extra versatility! Think of it as your tone's best friend, now in a compact package that won't hog precious board space. Inside this mini powerhouse, you'll find our studio-grade class A circuit and true-bypass switching, ready to boost your signal while keeping your guitar's personality intact. Whether you're after a subtle boost or need to really push your amp, the discrete push-pull design has you covered. And here's a bonus: even at zero gain, it'll clean up your signal chain and make those tone-degrading long cable runs behave.
Need to pull a humbucker sound from your Strat®? The resonance switch makes the pedal interact directly with your pickups, letting your single coils emulate either a chunky humbucker sound perfect for classic rock and blues, or a high-output tone for soaring leads. Running humbuckers? Position 1 adds some teeth to your sound, while Position 2 can give you a hint of that 'cocked-wah' filter sound that'll make your solos cut. Bring one guitar to the gig and cover all that tonal territory with one simple switch!
This mini pedal delivers the exact same boosting and tone-shaping power of the iconic Pickup Booster that players have sworn by for two decades – we just made it easier to find room for it on your board.
For more information, please visit seymourduncan.com.
Pickup Booster Mini | Classic Boost Plus a Secret Weapon w/ Ryan Plewacki from Demos in the Dark - YouTube
After eight years, New Orleans artist Benjamin Booker returns with a new album and a redefined relationship to the guitar.
It’s been eight years since the New Orleans-based artist released his last album. He’s back with a record that redefines his relationship to the guitar.
It is January 24, and Benjamin Booker’s third full-length album, LOWER, has just been released to the world. It’s been nearly eight years since his last record, 2017’s Witness, but Booker is unmoved by the new milestone. “I don’t really feel anything, I guess,” he says. “Maybe I’m in shock.”
That evening, Booker played a release celebration show at Euclid Records in New Orleans, which has become the musician’s adopted hometown. He spent a few years in Los Angeles, and then in Australia, where his partner gave birth to their child, but when he moved back to the U.S. in December 2023, it was the only place he could imagine coming back to. “I just like that the city has kind of a magic quality to it,” he says. “It just feels kind of like you’re walking around a movie set all the time.”
Witness was a ruminative, lonesome record, an interpretation of the writer James Baldwin’s concept of bearing witness to atrocity and injustice in the United States. Mavis Staples sang on the title track, which addressed the centuries-old crisis of police killings and brutality carried out against black Americans. It was a significant change from the twitchy, bluesy garage-rock of Booker’s self-titled 2014 debut, the sort of tunes that put him on the map as a scrappy guitar-slinging hero. But Booker never planned on heroism; he had no interest in becoming some neatly packaged industry archetype. After Witness, and years of touring, including supporting the likes of Jack White and Neil Young, Booker withdrew.
He was searching for a sound. “I was just trying to find the things that I liked,” he explains. L.A. was a good place for his hunt. He went cratedigging at Stellaremnant for electronic records, and at Artform Studio in Highland Park for obscure jazz releases. It took a long time to put together the music he was chasing. “For a while, I left guitar, and was just trying to figure out what I was going to do,” says Booker. “I just wasn’t interested in it anymore. I hadn’t heard really that much guitar stuff that had really spoke to me.”
“For a while, I left guitar, and was just trying to figure out what I was going to do. I just wasn’t interested in it anymore.”
LOWER is Booker’s most sensitive and challenging record yet.
Among the few exceptions were Tortoise’s Jeff Parker and Dave Harrington from Darkside, players who moved Booker to focus more on creating ambient and abstract textures instead of riffs. Other sources of inspiration came from Nicolas Jaar, Loveliescrushing, Kevin Shields, Sophie, and JPEGMAFIA. When it came to make LOWER (which released on Booker’s own Fire Next Time Records, another nod to Baldwin), he took the influences that he picked up and put them onto guitar—more atmosphere, less “noodly stuff”: “This album, I was working a lot more with images, trying to get images that could get to the emotion that I was trying to get to.”
The result is a scraping, aching, exploratory album that demonstrates that Booker’s creative analysis of the world is sharper and more potent than ever. Opener “Black Opps” is a throbbing, metallic, garage-electronic thrill, running back decades of state surveillance, murder, and sabotage against Black community organizing. “LWA in the Trailer Park” is brighter by a slim margin, but just as simultaneously discordant and groovy. The looped fingerpicking of “Pompeii Statues” sets a grounding for Booker to narrate scenes of the homelessness crisis in Los Angeles. Even the acoustic strums of “Heavy on the Mind” are warped and stretched into something deeply affecting; ditto the sunny, garbage-smeared ’60s pop of “Show and Tell.” But LOWER is also breathtakingly beautiful and moving. “Slow Dance in a Gay Bar” and “Hope for the Night Time” intermingle moments of joy and lightness amid desperation and loneliness.
Booker worked with L.A.-based hip-hop and electronic producer Kenny Segal, trading stems endlessly over email to build the record. While he was surrounded by vintage guitars and amps to create Witness, Booker didn’t use a single amplifier in the process of making LOWER: He recorded all his guitars direct through an interface to his DAW. “It’s just me plugging my old Epiphone Olympic into the computer and then using software plugins to manipulate the sounds,” says Booker. For him, working digitally and “in the box” is the new frontier of guitar music, no different than how Hendrix and Clapton used never-heard-before fuzz pedals to blow people’s minds. “When I look at guitar players who are my favorites, a lot of [their playing] is related to the technology at the time,” he adds.
“When I look at guitar players who are my favorites, a lot of [their playing] is related to the technology at the time.”
Benjamin Booker's Gear
Booker didn’t use any amps on LOWER. He recorded his old Epiphone Olympic direct into his DAW.
Photo by Trenity Thomas
Guitars
- 1960s Epiphone Olympic
Effects
- Soundtoys Little AlterBoy
- Soundtoys Decapitator
- Soundtoys Devil-Loc Deluxe
- Soundtoys Little Plate
“I guess I have a problem with anything being too sugary. I wanted a little bit of ugliness.”
Inspired by a black metal documentary in which an artist asks for the cheapest mic possible, Booker used only basic plugins by Soundtoys, like the Decapitator, Little AlterBoy, and Little Plate, but the Devil-Loc Deluxe was the key for he and Segal to unlock the distorted, “three-dimensional world” they were seeking. “Because I was listening to more electronic music where there’s more of a focus on mixing than I would say in rock music, I think that I felt more inspired to go in and be surgical about it,” says Booker.
Part of that precision meant capturing the chaos of our world in all its terror and splendor. When he was younger, Booker spent a lot of time going to the Library of Congress and listening to archival interviews. On LOWER, he carries out his own archival sound research. “I like the idea of being able to put things like that in the music, for people to just hear it,” says Booker. “Even if they don’t know what it is, they’re catching a glimpse of life that happened at that time.”
On “Slow Dance in a Gay Bar,” there are birds chirping that he captured while living in Australia. Closer “Hope for the Night Time” features sounds from Los Angeles’ Grand Central Market. “Same Kind of Lonely” features audio of Booker’s baby laughing just after a clip from a school shooting. “I guess I have a problem with anything being too sugary,” says Booker. “I wanted a little bit of ugliness. We all have our regular lives that are just kind of interrupted constantly by insane acts of violence.”
That dichotomy is often difficult to compute, but Booker has made peace with it. “You hear people talking about, ‘I don’t want to have kids because the world is falling apart,’” he says. “But I mean, I feel like it’s always falling apart and building itself back up. Nothing lasts forever, even bad times.”
YouTube It
To go along with the record, Booker produced a string of music videos influenced by the work of director Paul Schrader and his fascination with “a troubled character on the edge, reaching for transcendence.” That vision is present in the video for lead single “LWA in the Trailer Park.”