
When Yasmin Williams plays her Timberline harp guitar, she uses her fretting hand to strike the low-resonating strings on the upper neck. They're tuned to open G.
An emerging star finds peace and inspiration in the world of 2020 and, with her unconventional style and instruments (including harp guitar and tap shoes), distills it into the beautiful instrumentals of Urban Driftwood, her second album.
Acoustic guitar fingerstylist Yasmin Williams had a wide breadth of musical influences growing up in Washington D.C. Everything from go-go funk to Jimi Hendrix to Nirvana to hip-hop inspired her to pick up an electric guitar, and that amalgamation of styles remains the bedrock of the music she makes. But it's how she translates it all through her acoustic guitar, kora, kalimba, and a pair of tap shoes that makes the 24-year-old's latest release, Urban Driftwood, so captivating.
It also raises a question: How does one go from bashing out Nirvana songs to becoming one of the fastest-rising stars in fingerstyle guitar?
"I wanted to branch off and write my own music," Williams says. "But I felt like the electric guitar was a bit limiting, especially with the percussive stuff I wanted to do. And once I figured out how to do fingerstyle, it was a lot easier for me to write my own tunes. I think the first song I learned was 'Blackbird,'by the Beatles. That pushed fingerstyle into my brain. I fell in love with it.
"But I've always written instrumental music, simply because that's what I'm comfortable with. Even when I listen to music in general, I don't necessarily care about the lyrics most of the time. It's always the instrumentation and arrangements that get me to listen to a track."
Sunshowers
Since the day in May 2018 that Unwind, her debut album, dropped, Williams's acoustic instrumental wizardry and tapestry of influences has been on full display, with her impeccable technique and unique take on fretboard tapping demanding attention.
Inhibited by the bulk of some acoustic-guitar bodies, Williams decided to approach tapping by laying her 6-string horizontally on her lap. This is much more comfortable for her, and offers better access to the whole fretboard, laying it out more like a piano than a guitar. It's just one way Williams expands her musical dialect with a non-traditional approach. It wasn't long after the release of Unwind that Williams started to gain a reputation as an innovator. And, as innovators often do, she already had her eye on something new.
"For Unwind, there wasn't much of a theme," she says. "It was more like a collection of songs I'd written from late high school to the end of college. Whereas Urban Driftwood is definitely about something. It has a theme and an arc to it." In the album's liner notes, Williams explains that all of the songs were written during the COVID-19 pandemic, and that the lockdown and the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement in the wake of George Floyd's killing is reflected in the unfolding of its sequence. She also sought to craft a sonic landscape that communicates a feeling of movement and the natural beauty that persists in urban spaces.
"It is a solo guitar, so the tone has to be on point. I can't have a muddy bass or a buzzing treble."
"It's my first project that shows where I'm from and pays homage to my roots," she continues. "And it was an extremely different process than how I recorded my first album. Since I had already released a 'guitar' album, I didn't want to release another one. I wanted to show my composition skills and show I've grown as a songwriter, composer, guitarist, and musician. That was a huge goal."
She aced it. Urban Driftwood is audibly a step forward—not only in the excellence and emotional depth of its playing, but for her inclusion of new sounds and musical colors. Partly, Williams accomplished this by including guest musicians. Amadou Kouyate, for example, adds djembe to the title track and"Adrift." The latter also features cellist Taryn Wood, and she and Williams create an adventurous topography of melodies that repeatedly interlock and veer apart.
"'Adrift' was me sharpening my composition tools and writing something with counterpoint in mind. It's almost like a fugue. I wrote that song to see if I could write a duet for guitar and another instrument. I thought it came out great and was a good fit with the theme of the album, so I included it."
To give her complete access to the fretboard while tapping, Williams has created her own lap-style approach to playing acoustic. Here, she's weaving a melody on her custom Skytop.
Photo by Umbar Kassa
Like "Adrift," much of Williams' music is carefully calculated. Her debut album was planned to precision before she entered the studio. But Urban Driftwood producer/engineer Jeff Gruber wanted Williams to take a different approach—to open her mind to new influences and new recording techniques. "Jeff got me to open up, in terms of not having to have everything finished before I get into the studio," Williams says. "Being able to experiment while recording was not something I was open to at all. I'm definitely a perfectionist. I want everything already figured out and finished. He showed me that it's okay if it's not. Great things will come out of experimentation, trial and error, and trying different techniques.
"Like, usually I use a looper pedal. And that's what I wanted to do on 'After the Storm.' I thought overdubbing and slicing things was cheating. I don't know why I thought that. It made things way harder than they needed to be. But that's how I wanted to do things. But there are four guitar parts in 'After the Storm.' Thankfully Jeff convinced me that it would sound better if I recorded each guitar part separately."
Put on Urban Driftwood with a good set of headphones and you'll understand what Gruber was after. The broad aural spectrum gives the impression you're sitting in the middle of an acoustic guitar orchestra. But now Williams has to reproduce that onstage. "Unfortunately, I didn't think about that before going into the studio," she says, laughing. "It's extremely hard, especially since my songs are already so technical. But I don't want the live performance to affect the studio recording. Thankfully, I can play most of the songs on the album myself now. Like 'Swift Breeze'—I figured out a way to play it live with the looper pedal. But I definitely will have to use backing tracks on some songs, because the parts are instruments that I don't play."
Yasmin Williams Gear
With its considerable overdubs, the material on Urban Driftwood is challenging to perform live. But with backing tracks and a deep reservoir of technique, Yasmin Williams rises to the task.
Photo by Jan Anderson
Guitars
- Custom Skytop acoustic with James May Ultra Tonic pickups
- Timberline acoustic parlor harp model with K&K pickups
- Sublime Guitar Company acoustic
Strings, Picks, and Accessories
- Shubb capos
- Calton guitar cases
- D'Addario Humidipaks
- GHS Silk and Steel string sets (.011–.048)
- Black Mountain thumbpicks
Effects
- Audio Sprockets ToneDexter
- Strymon BigSky
- Pigtronix Infinity Looper
- Joyo volume pedal
- Hologram Electronics Microcosm
- TC Electronic PolyTune
- Looptimus foot controller (for triggering backing tracks)
- Tap shoes
It's easy to get caught up in the songs and sounds of Urban Driftwood and miss the technical aspect of William's playing. It all seems so natural and seamless. But, watching her perform, you'll see her effortlessly whip through fast tapping passages, explore expansive chords, and reposition her guitar from conventional positioning to her lap for tapping, mid-song, without missing a beat.
"I have to practice that a little bit," Williams admits. "Especially for 'Juvenescence.' That switch is rather difficult because I only give myself a beat to do it. There's a lot of thought put into it. It's like, 'Okay, I'll play a harmonic here, give myself a rest, or something.' Usually, I don't give myself long because it will mess up the continuous motion of the song."
Williams' playing technique is just the tip of the iceberg. She's also known for incorporating additional instruments into her songs, and, in fact, her simultaneous guitar/kalimba performances are one of her trademarks. "I had always liked Maurice White's playing, especially on Earth, Wind & Fire's live versions of the song 'Kalimba Story,'" Williams explains. "Then one day I was writing a song and I wanted to add another timbre that guitar couldn't achieve. I was trying to think of instruments, and that kalimba sound kept popping into my head. I didn't realize it was the kalimba until I found one with no price tag in Guitar Center. I was like, 'That's the sound that I've been hearing! That's the Earth, Wind & Fire sound!' I've been using those ever since.
"Oh, and I use tap shoes, too," she adds, laughing. "Jeff had the two mics in stereo. One was on one shoe, and another mic was on the other, which I've never done before. He also added a plate reverb to it, which gave it the weird ping-pong delay in 'Through the Woods.' It blew my mind!"
Rig Rundown - Yasmin Williams
Thanks to Gruber's passion for capturing sonic detail, every instrument on Urban Driftwood has a beautiful dimensionality. "Jeff was huge on making everything sound spacious and lush," Williams says. "When I listened to it for the first time, I was shocked at how spacious and vibrant the guitar sounded. He didn't use a DI or anything. He used two or three mics on the guitar, close-miked, and that's it. He used pencil condenser mics."
Although this straightforward miking technique puts Williams' performances under a microscope, good luck finding a string buzz or flubbed note on the entire album. Not many players can perform with that level of precision. "I get irritated at myself if I hear any type of note inaccuracies or buzzing," she explains. "The only thing I can accept is [sliding] string sounds, because I like it and there's not much I can do about it. Other than that, I want it to sound as clear as possible. It is a solo guitar, so the tone has to be on point. I can't have a muddy bass or a buzzing treble. It has to be good. That's the standard I set for myself. I practice that a lot. Accuracy is extremely important."
Williams' touch and technique are vital to her tone but playing her beautiful custom Skytop acoustic guitar probably doesn't hurt, either. "The Skytop [tuned to open D] is its own story altogether," she says. "I really loved [Skytop luthier Eric Weigeshoff's] designs, how the guitars look, and the fact that they have the two huge side soundports instead of the one soundhole in the front. It sounds better to me, and it actually projects a lot better, which you may not expect. But because of my lap-tapping technique, his normal side ports can get muffled because they're facing my stomach. So since I do a lot of that tapping, he recommended this wood that had holes in the front called teredo-holed Sitka spruce. The holes are natural and made by mollusks, and I didn't care how it sounded! I just thought it looked cool. [Laughs.] It's like functional art. But those holes do help the sound project when I'm lap-tapping. It does a great job."
The Skytop is on every track on Urban Driftwood except "Adrift."
"I use my old Sublime guitar on that because it sounded better with the cello," Williams notes. Her other trademark instrument is her Timberline harp guitar. In addition to its standard 6-string layout, this parlor-size instrument features six lower-octave strings, tuned in open G. Staying true to her pragmatic approach to technique, Williams prefers plucking the lower strings by reaching over the top of the guitar and picking with her fretting hand. It took some work to master, but the harp guitar is now an indispensable tool in her sonic arsenal.
TIDBIT: Producer Jeff Gruber was Williams' studio guru for her latest album, Urban Driftwood, urging her to experiment with overdubs and capturing every sound in pristine detail.
"I'd wanted a harp guitar for a while, but it always seemed intimidating because of the extra set of sub-bass strings. It's actually not, once you get the hang of playing it. It just has a whole other dimension. I use it on 'Swift Breeze' to play the super-fast tapping part. And I also use the harp guitar on 'Jarabi.'"
Regardless of which guitar Williams plays, she has a beautiful, natural-sounding tone, even when plugged in. But she's not afraid to use pedals to get it. "Gear is very important to your tones, to everything, to how you play," she says. "If you find something that works for you, then use that. I'm getting into pedals more and experimenting with delays and reverbs and all that. I love to use them live and have a pedalboard. I have a Strymon BigSky, a Pigtronix Infinity Looper, and a cool Joyo volume pedal that's miniature, so it fits my foot well. And I got a new pedal by Hologram Electronics called a Microcosm, which is super cool. It's like a granular delay/micro-looper. It has stereo reverbs, too. I also have a ToneDexter, which is important for my guitar tone live." That device uses Audio Sprockets' WaveMaps technology to create an optimized version of an acoustic guitar's voice.
For someone who gave up electric guitar for its tonal limitations, Williams is definitely becoming a pedal junkie. Is this part of another sonic evolution? "Oh, yes, for sure," she admits. "I'm playing electric way more than I have in a long time. My main instrument is still acoustic, but I think electric will pop up at a show or two in the future.
"Nowadays, I'm more aware that I'm in a unique spot in the guitar scene, and I'm not afraid of that anymore," Williams continues. "I'm actually enjoying writing music that includes percussive stuff that pays homage to D.C. or go-go music or West African music or whatever. I like putting something different into the guitar canon, if you want to call it that. That's the point of Urban Driftwood."
Yasmin Williams, “Juvenescence” | New York Guitar Festival sessions
Yasmin Williams performs "Juvenescence" at Dumbarton Oaks Park in Washington, D.C. Enjoy her beautiful, ringing tone and expressive technique, and watch, at 1:34, as she seamlessly transitions to her trademark lap-tapping without missing a beat.
- Rig Rundown: Zane Carney - Premier Guitar ›
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- Yasmin Williams' Rig Rundown - Premier Guitar ›
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AI, which generated this image in seconds, can obviously do amazing things. But can it actually replace human creativity?
Technology has always disrupted the music biz, but we’ve never seen anything like this.
AI has me deeply thinking: Is guitar (or any instrument) still valid? Are musicians still valid? I don’t think the answer is as obvious as I’d like it to be.
As a professional musician, I’ve spent the vast majority of my days immersed in the tones of tube amps, the resistance of steel strings under my fingers, and the endless pursuit of musical expression. Each day, I strive to tap into the Source, channel something new into the world (however small), and share it. Yet, lately, a new presence has entered the room—artificial intelligence. It is an interloper unlike any I’ve ever encountered. If you’re thinking that AI is something off in the “not-too-distant future,” you’re exponentially wrong. So, this month I’m going to ask that we sit and meditate on this technology, and hopefully gain some insight into how we are just beginning to use it.
AI: Friend or Foe?
In the last 12 months, I’ve heard quite a bit of AI-generated music. Algorithms can now “compose,” “perform” (with vocals of your choosing), and “produce” entire songs in minutes, with prompts as flippant as, “Write a song about__in the style of__.” AI never misses a note and can mimic the finer details of almost any genre with unnerving precision. For those who are merely curious about music, or those easily distracted by novelty, this might seem exciting … a shortcut to creating “professional” sounding music without years of practice. But for those of us who are deeply passionate about music, it raises some profound existential questions.
When you play an instrument, you engage in something deeply human. Each musician carries their life experiences into their playing. The pain of heartbreak, the joy of new beginnings, or the struggle to find a voice in an increasingly noisy and artificial online world dominated by algorithms. Sweat, tears, and callouses develop from your efforts and repetition. Your mistakes can lead to new creative vistas and shape the evolution of your style.
Emotions shape the music we create. While an algorithm can only infer and assign a “value” to the vast variety of our experience, it is ruthlessly proficient at analyzing and recording the entire corpus of human existence, and further, cataloging every known human behavioral action and response in mere fractions of a second.
Pardon the Disruption
Technology has always disrupted the music industry. The invention of musical notation provided unprecedented access to compositions. The advent of records allowed performances of music to be captured and shared. When radio brought music into every home, there was fear that no one would buy records. Television added visual spectacle, sparking fears that it would kill live performance. MIDI revolutionized music production but raised concerns about replacing human players. The internet, paired with the MP3 format, democratized music distribution, shattered traditional revenue models, and shifted power from labels to artists. Each of these innovations was met with resistance and uncertainty, but ultimately, they expanded the ways music could be created, shared, and experienced.
Every revolution in art and technology forces us to rediscover what is uniquely human about creativity. To me, though, this is different. AI isn’t a tool that requires a significant amount of human input in order to work. It’s already analyzed the minutia of all of humanity’s greatest creations—from the most esoteric to the ubiquitous, and it is wholly capable of creating entire works of art that are as commercially competitive as anything you’ve ever heard. This will force us to recalibrate our definition of art and push us to dig deeper into our personal truths.
“In an age where performed perfection is casually synthesized into existence, does our human expression still hold value? Especially if the average listener can’t tell the difference?”
Advantage: Humans
What if we don’t want to, though? In an age where performed perfection is casually synthesized into existence, does our human expression still hold value? Especially if the average listener can’t tell the difference?
Of course, the answer is still emphatically “Yes!” But caveat emptor. I believe that the value of the tool depends entirely on the way in which it is used—and this one in particular is a very, very powerful tool. We all need to read the manual and handle with care.
AI cannot replicate the experience of creating music in the moment. It cannot capture the energy of a living room jam session with friends or the adrenaline of playing a less-than-perfect set in front of a crowd who cheers because they feel your passion. It cannot replace the personal journey you take each time you push through frustration to master a riff that once seemed impossible. So, my fellow musicians, I say this: Your music is valid. Your guitar is valid. What you create with your hands and heart will always stand apart from what an algorithm can generate.
Our audience, on the other hand, is quite a different matter. And that’s the subject for next month’s Dojo. Until then, namaste.
Our columnist’s bass, built by Anders Mattisson.
Would your instrumental preconceptions hold up if you don a blindfold and take them for a test drive?
I used to think that stereotypes and preconceived notions about what is right and wrong when it comes to bass were things that other people dealt with—not me. I was past all that. Unfazed by opinion, immune to classification. Or so I thought, tucked away in my jazz-hermit-like existence.
That belief was shattered the day Ian Martin Allison handed me a Fender Coronado while I was blindfolded in his basement. (Don’t ask—it’s a long story and an even longer YouTube video if you have time to kill.) For years, I had been a single-cut, 5-string, high-C-string player. That was my world. So, you can imagine my shock when I connected almost instantly with something that felt like it was orbiting a different solar system.
Less than 5 minutes with the instrument, and it was all over. The bass stayed in Ian’s basement. (I did not.) I returned home to Los Angeles, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I kept playing my beloved semi-chambered single-cut 5-string, but I sent its builder, Anders Mattisson, a message about my recent discovery. I asked if there was any way we could create something with the essence of a Coronado while still suiting my playing and my music.
That’s when everything I thought I knew about bass—and the personal boundaries I had set for myself—came crashing down.
When we started talking about building a bass with a fully chambered body, much like the Coronado, I was adamant about two things: It needed to have active electronics, and I would never play a headless bass.
Fast-forward three months to the winterNAMM show in California. Anders arrived for dinner at my house, along with a group of incredible bass players, includingHenrik Linder. I was literally in a chef’s apron, trying to get course after course of food on the table, when Henrik said, “Hey, let’s bring the new bass in.”
He came down the stairs carrying something that looked suspiciously like a guitar case—not a bass case. I figured there had been some kind of mistake or maybe even a prank. When I finally got a break from the chaos in the kitchen, I sat down with the new bass for the first time. And, of course, it was both headless and passive.
I should mention that even though I had made my requests clear—no headless bass, active electronics—I had also told Anders that I trusted him completely. And I’m so glad I did. He disintegrated my assumptions about what a bass “has to” or “should” be, and in doing so, changed my life as a musician in an instant. The weight reduction from the fully chambered body made it essential for the instrument to be headless to maintain perfect balance. And the passive nature of the pickups gave me the most honest representation of my sound that I’ve ever heard in over 30 years of playing bass.
I’m 46 years old. It took me this long to let go of certain fundamental beliefs about my instrument and allow them to evolve naturally, without interference. Updating my understanding of what works for me as a bass player required perspective, whereas some of my most deeply held beliefs about the instrument were based on perception. I don’t want to disregard my experiences or instincts, but I do want to make sure I’m always open to the bigger picture—to other people’s insights and expertise.
Trusting my bass builder’s vision opened musical doors that would have otherwise stayed bolted shut for years to come. The more I improve my awareness of where the line between perception and perspective falls, the more I can apply it to all aspects of my world of bass.
Maybe this month, it’s playing an instrument I never would have previously considered. Next month, it might be incorporating MIDI into my pedalboard, or transcribing bass lines from spaghetti Westerns.
No matter what challenges or evolutions I take on in my music and bass playing, I want to remain open—open to change, open to new ideas, and open to being proven wrong. Because sometimes, the instrument you never thought you’d play ends up being the one that changes everything.
Genuine, dynamic Vox sound and feel. Plenty of different tone-sweetening applications. Receives other pedals as nicely as a real amp.
Can get icy quick. Preamp tube presents risk for damage.
$299
Tubesteader Roy
tubesteader.com
The Roy is an exceedingly faithful Vox box that brings genuine tube dynamics to your pedalboard.
This is an interesting moment for amp-in-a-box pedals. It used to be novel to have a little box that approximated the tone signature of an iconic amp. Nowadays, though, modeling pedals and profilers can give you many digital emulations in one package. Nevertheless, there are still worlds of possibility in pedals that copy amp topology in discrete form—particularly when you add a real preamp tube to that mix.
That’s what Montreal builder Tubesteader did with the Roy, their entry in the Vox-Top-Boost-AC30-in-a-box race. The Roy is a 2-channel preamp and overdrive built around a 12AX7 vacuum tube—a design gambit that is relatively uncommon if not totally unique. The tube makes the Roy look much more vintage in spirit at a time when sleek, black Helixes and Fractals are overtaking stages. In some ways, it looks like an antique. It can sound like one in the best way too.
Riding the Tube
The Roy comes in a handsome brownish-red enclosure, with an unsurprising control layout. The rightmost footswitch turns the pedal on and off, and the one at left switches between the identical channels. Each channel has an output volume and gain knob; the controls on the right are assigned to the default channel, and when you tap the left footswitch, you engage the left-side control tandem. The treble and bass controls between the two volume and gain knobs are shared by the two channels, but a post-EQ master tone cut control, which rolls off additional treble frequencies, is mounted on the crown of the pedal beside the power input. The input and output jacks occupy the left and right sides, along with a 3.5 mm jack for external operation. The Roy runs at 12 volts and draws 350 mA, and the included power supply can be reconfigured easily for a range of international outlets.
Tubesteader’s literature says the pedal’s tones are generated via a high-voltage transistor in the first gain stage coupled with the 12AX7, which operates at 260 volts. That preamp tube is nested at the top of the enclosure’s face, underneath a protective metal “roll bar”. Trusty as it looks, when there is a glass element on the exterior of a pedal’s housing, there’s an element of vulnerability, and transporting and using the Roy probably requires a more conscientious approach than a standard stompbox.
Royal Tones
Compared to the Vox's own Mystic Edge, an AC30-in-a-box from Vox powered by Korg’s NuTube vacuum fluorescent display technology, the Roy feels warmer, and more dynamic, proving that the 12AX7 isn’t just there for looks. The Mystic Edge could sound positively icy compared to the Roy’s smooth, even breakup. The Roy is very happy at aggressive settings, and in my estimation, it sounds best with output volumes driving an amp hard and the pedal’s gain around 3 o’clock. That recipe sounds good with single-coil guitars, but with a P-90-loaded Les Paul Junior, it achieves roaring classic-rock greatness. I’ve always felt Voxes, rather than Marshalls, are better vehicles for dirty punk chording. The Roy did nothing to dissuade me from that belief. And the pedals' midrange punch and bark in power-chord contexts lent authority and balance that makes such chords hit extra hard.
Though the Roy creates many of its own tasty drive tones, it really comes to life when pushed by a boost or overdrive, much like a real amp. When I punched it with a Fish Circuits Model One overdrive, the Roy was smoother and less spiky than a cranked AC30, yet there was plenty of note definition, attack, and the harmonic riches you’d turn to an AC for in the first place. A JFET SuperCool Caffeine Boost also brought additional depth and color to the output and broadened the pedal’s voice.
If you’re most comfortable with a real Vox amp, the Roy is a reliable and familiar-feeling stand-in when managing a different backline amp. In at least one way, though, the Roy is, perhaps, a bit toofaithful to its influence’s design: There’s a lot of treble on tap, and it’s easy to cook up tinnitus-inducing frequencies if you get too aggressive with the treble control. Noon positions on the cut/boost tone knobs sound pretty neutral. But I found it difficult to push the treble much past 2 o’clock without wincing—even with the tone cut control set at its darkest. (This quality, of course, may make the Roy a good match for squishier Fender-style designs). The relationship between the Roy’s treble and bass controls also takes time to master. The two don’t just add or boost their respective frequencies, but also add or subtract midrange, which can result in intense and sudden gain-response changes. As a general guideline, a light touch goes a long way when fine tuning these frequencies.The Verdict
The Roy isn’t exactly a bargain at $299. Then again, this Vox-in-a-box can stand in for real-deal Top Boost tones and the 2-channel design means you can move between an AC’s chimey cleans and ripping cranked sounds in a flash. If you’re squarely in the Vox amp camp, you’d be hard-pressed to find a more authentic means of achieving that range of clean-to-crunchy sounds.