With cranked amps, big riffs, and a fleet of new and vintage Gibsons, the hard-rocking duo shoots for thrills on their new Nick Raskulinecz-produced album, Vicious.
Producer Nick Raskulinecz had just begun working in the studio with the band Halestorm when he had an inspired moment. Raskulinecz decided that, rather than play their high-performance modern Gibsons, Lzzy Hale and Joe Hottinger should go for something decidedly unrefined. He handed each guitarist a 1950s Les Paul Junior, and they got to work.
“Nick decided that we needed something out of the ordinary—these old guitars that would go out of tune if you hit them too hard and just sound nasty with their P-90s,” Hottinger says.
“We faced each other in the loud room and were soon writing this wild and forceful riff that became the breakdown in ‘Skulls’,” Hale says. “Our bass player—the only real musician in the band—walks in the room and the first thing he says is, ‘You know that’s out of tune, right?’ We’re like, ‘Yeah, dude, that’s what makes it cool. It’s so wrong, it’s right!’”
Halestorm has been perfecting its brand of wrong-and-right rock since 1997, when Hale and her brother, Arejay, then 13 and 10, respectively, began writing music and performing together. In 2003, Hottinger joined Halestorm, which signed a contract with Atlantic two years later and made a big splash with a self-titled album in 2009 that followed their live 2006 EP debut.
By the time they released their third studio album, 2015’s Into the Wild Life, Halestorm had begun to branch away from straightforward hard rock and heavy metal to include pop, country, and other influences. But Halestorm’s latest album, Vicious, is a return to form, with plenty of hard-driving, down-tuned riffing from Hale and Hottinger, some pyrotechnical soloing from each guitarist, and even the occasional power ballad.
Calling from their home base in Pennsylvania, Hale and Hottinger had lots to say about their longstanding working relationship, their propensity for improvisation, the extensive tools of their trade … and the importance of playing at ear-splitting volume levels.
Let’s talk about guitars. What’s in your arsenal at the moment?
Lzzy Hale: I’m playing pretty much all Gibsons. I got two signature Explorers, a white one and a black one. I have a double-neck SG, which is a 6-string on the top and baritone on the bottom. I have a new Firebird that’s amazing. I have a Gibson Les Paul Supreme, which is amazing. I have a really hard time leaving anything under the bed, so it all comes out.
Joe Hottinger: I like a variety of guitars. I’ve got a bunch of Gibsons that are my mainstays. I just got one of the Freddie King [1960 reissue] ES-345s, and it’s got to be one of my best-sounding guitars. Whatever PAFs Gibson Memphis made for those things, I’ve got to get more of them, because they’re just amazing. [Editor’s note: They’re MHS—Memphis historic spec—humbuckers.]
I have a new Custom Shop SG in Inverness green that Gibson just came out with. It’s a really great sounding guitar. I keep going back to it and wanting to play it more. It’s so playable and fun. I also have a long-scale goldtop from the Custom Shop, which is just a really good Les Paul with Jimmy Page pickups.
I got a Manson earlier this year, one of the MA-2s with the Fuzz Factory in it and the Sustainiac in the neck. It’s just a crazy guitar. I’m having them build me another one for Europe because we wrote so many songs on that thing. And some of the main riffs in “Vicious” and “White Dress” are done just with the sound that comes out of that guitar and how unique it is. So, I’m gonna need more of those.
What else do I have? I have a Fender Master Built Tele and a Custom Shop 1964 Strat. I have a few more Teles, a baritone Tele that I put a humbucker in, and this weird Esquire-ish Tele, which Fender built to my specs a few years ago, that I always have out on tour with me.
Hale: It gets to the point when you say, “Well, let’s hang all the guitars up on the wall,” and then you run out of wall space. That’s the point that we’re at right now.
Is it hard to decide what to play on a given tune?
Hottinger: It is hard. It’s annoying, actually, because I have a Custom Shop V and a Firebird that are both killer. But they don’t get played as much as I’d like, because I’m really into the Freddie King and SG right now. So sometimes certain guitars just sit in the vault for a while, but that’s OK.
What amps are you using?
Hottinger: I have a ’71 Super Lead that I just turn up to deafening levels and this reissue Twin Reverb that I go back and forth between.
Hale: I use a Marshall JCM 800. My guitar tech and I crank it to the point where the sound guy is slightly annoyed, but not too annoyed that he’s gonna say anything. We started putting both of our amps backwards, so that we can crank them more. It’s been really interesting, because a lot of our peers are using [prerecorded] tracks onstage right now, and we’ve just never done that. So many people come up to us and are like, “How do you get your guitars to sound like that?” Our answer is always, “Well, we plug them in and we turn them up and we actually play.” Everyone is like, “Wait, really? A real guitar?”
It seems like you make fairly straightforward use of effects, but on some of your older stuff, like 2012’s “Freak Like Me,” there are some unusual sounds happening.
Hale: It’s a kind of delay effect that I make just by using my foot on a [Dunlop JC95] Jerry Cantrell Wah. I started doing that to try to make myself a better player, because I noticed the more effects that I have, the more I depend on them. And the Jerry Cantrell Wah is great, too. I can use high heels on that one because I don’t actually have to hit a button. It’s just automatically on. And as a performer, it just creates a much better effect with the audience because they’re like, “What is she doing with her foot? Oh my god, it’s crazy.”
The more that I can draw attention to the fact that I’m doing this on my own and not just hitting a button and letting things happen, the better reaction I get from an audience. But in general I’ve become quite the minimalist over the years when it comes to effects. I’m getting most of my sound from my amp, so I roll back the volume knob and use a lot of that kind of physicality.
How has your musicianship evolved since you started relying less on pedals?
Hale: I’m relying more on the tone that I create with my fingers and paying much more attention than before to how I’m using the pick. I’ve been kind of experimenting with different positions, pick-wise, with much help from Joe. I’ll be like, “Hey, man, I want to create this kind of very tight.…” And Joe will be like, “Just angle the pick this way.”
Does it go both ways with you showing each other tips and techniques? Joe, have you learned things from Lzzy?
Hottinger: Oh, yeah—totally. I remember back to when I joined the band, 15 years ago now, she’d written the riff for “It’s Not You” and it’s got this slappy left-hand thing that I had never seen before. I said, “What are you doing?” It took me a few days to get it. It was just this really cool approach to riff writing and guitar playing that I hadn’t seen before. I ended up using it in “Freak Like Me” on the second record—the same exact rhythmic thing in the verses, which keeps the song moving and chugging along.
Lzzy has such a singer-and-piano-player approach to guitar. Her vibrato is awesome. It’s such a wide vibrato. It sounds like when [Cinderella’s] Tom Keifer does a solo. When she does her solos, it’s like a voice, which is what it should be.
Hale recalls that until she and Hottinger met in their teens, she had never known anyone as obsessed about music as her. They immediately began having marathon late-night practice sessions. Photo by Annie Atlasman
You mentioned playing with your amps cranked. How important is sheer volume to your music, both in the studio and live? How does it affect the ways you approach the guitar?
Hottinger: To me, live … it’s everything. If I let go of the guitar, it needs to start feeding back. I have to be on the brink of a feedback meltdown, otherwise it’s dead to me. It sounds terrible and you’re just fighting to get these notes out. I hit the guitar too hard when the amp’s not cranked. I just started on this tour, for the first time, plugging in my backup cabinet and doing the Bruce Springsteen thing. I have it laying down, aiming up behind me. I don’t know what angle it’s at, but my guitar tech put it there and I love it.
I have the Super Lead turned up so loud we have to point its cab backwards—that’s the miked cab. But I also have monitors in front of my pedalboard that are blasting. That cabinet that’s aimed straight up … I can walk back to it and just get the guitar to start humming and vibrating—especially that 345, that [semi] hollowbody. It’s such killer feedback when you get back by that cabinet. So yeah, volume is everything for the tone live. I don’t comprehend how some of these bands play with Kemper [profiling] amps. It would feel so dead to me.
Hale: It’s not part of our DNA. I think it just comes all the way back to when you first start playing guitar and the first thing you want to do is get really loud and try to annoy the neighbors. For us, it was just fun to do that. We both experimented with the after-effects and the Kemper stuff. Some of it is really great for making demos and all that, but for the most part, any time that we would ever try to do it in a live setting, it’s like, “Wow, it just sounds the same [as everyone else] and doesn’t feel good.”
Lzzy Hale’s Gear
GuitarsGibson Lzzy Hale signature Explorers
Gibson Firebird
Gibson Les Paul Supreme
Gibson custom doubleneck SG (6-string and baritone)
Amps
Marshall JCM 800
Effects
Klon Centaur
Dunlop JC95 Jerry Cantrell Signature Cry Baby Wah
Strings and Picks
Ernie Ball (.010–.052)
InTune GrippX
For me, if you don’t feel like an absolute rock star—like you’re 13 years old bouncing up and down on your bed with your first guitar—it affects your performance, and it affects how the crowd reacts. To me, that’s 101. That’s the basis of how you’re supposed to feel when you walk onstage.
Vicious is a return to your harder roots. Can you talk a little bit about what inspired that?
Hottinger: We’ve been saying that this record is like a rebirth for us. We went in the studio with Nick Raskulinecz, who’s just such an awesome dude and a great producer. We had written a bunch of songs and we didn’t like them, which is so stupid. They were good songs, it would’ve been a good record, but it felt like a rehash. We were like, “I don’t think this is what we should be doing.” We showed them to Nick and he was like, “I don’t want to make this Halestorm record.” We were like, “Good. We’re on the same page.” Then it was like, “Oh shit.”
Hale: Now what do we do?
Hottinger: We didn’t actually know what to do to push the band forward and push ourselves forward and maybe push our listeners and maybe, if we’re lucky, push the genre. How do you do that? He was like, “Worry about yourself. When was the last time you just sat in the room and played together?”
“Who’s got a riff?” were the famous first words of the record. I’m like, “Well, I got a bunch of riffs—let’s start there.” So we did. We just started jamming together, the four of us, and did two different two- or three-week sessions of that. We realized, “Oh, we got this. This is fun. That’s actually a cool part.”
And then over the next bunch of months, Lzzy and I really found our mojo and started writing a bunch of songs and demoing them up at home or doing it with the four of us. Lzzy would write a song and we’d figure out how to play it as a band. We just found our groove. Nick said it well: “If you’re excited about the music, then I think your fans will be excited, too, because they’ll be able to hear that.”
We’ve said it before—we weren’t trying to make a heavy record, though we wanted to make a rock record, for sure. A lot of bands in our genre have given up on rock and incorporated these pop-synth sounds, shying away from guitar rock ’n’ roll. We wanted to double down on our guitar rock ’n’ roll and make a statement that rock is still valid.
Hale: We didn’t realize that we were making a heavy record until we started playing some of the songs, like “Black Vulture,” live. That’s a huge testament to Nick, because what he did was basically take everything that we love about being in this band—all of our personalities and everything that each of us brings to the table—and then just kind of amplified that. This is the most Halestorm record that we’ve done. It’s like us—but up to 11.
There were so many moments where we were like, “Yeah, that totally rocks,” and then Nick would be like, “Oh no, no, no. I’ve seen you guys live. I’m a fan of your band. I know that you can sing higher. I know that you guys can play louder. You can play faster. I know your little brother [drummer Arejay Hale] is crazy. We gotta push it just a little further.”
Brash, bratty rock ’n’ roll attitude remains an important part of Lzzy Hale’s and Halestorm’s recipe for success onstage and in the studio. Photo by Ken Settle
Describe how you write together and how you determine the division of labor between your guitar parts.
Hottinger: There is no set way, especially in getting to the core of the song. Like “Uncomfortable” is an instrumental piece. We wrote all the music for that first, then Lzzy got tasked with singing something over it. Then, when we started recording it and playing it live, we had to figure out who’s gonna play that riff, who’s gonna play this. Neither of us is precious about our guitar parts.
Joe Hottinger’s Gear
GuitarsFender Custom Shop Esquire
Fender Custom Shop 1964 Stratocaster
Fender Baritone Telecaster
Fender Master Built Telecaster
Gibson Custom Firebird
Gibson Custom Flying V
Gibson Freddie King 1960 ES-345
Gibson Custom goldtop Les Paul (long scale)
Gibson Custom SG
Manson MA-2 with Fuzz Factory and Sustainiac
Amps
1971 Marshall Super Lead
Fender Twin Reverb reissue
Effects
Eventide H9 Harmonizer
Ibanez TS808 Original Tube Screamer
Keeley 30 ms Automatic Double Tracker delay
RJM Effect Gizmo loop switcher
RJM Mastermind LT MIDI foot controller
Strings and Picks
Ernie Ball (.010–.052)
InTune GrippX
Hale: A lot of times, even after the recording is done, Joe and I will sit down and make sure that each of us is playing the part that makes the most sense. Like Joe said, we’re not precious with either of our parts. A lot of times we end up switching and swapping—you do the solo there, I’ll do this here. You’re singing over that so maybe you should do this part here—that kind of thing.
It’s fun. The two of us—we’ve been best friends for 15 years now, from the very beginning. When we first met, besides my little brother, I had never met anybody who was obsessed with music as much as I was. I was one of those people who are like, “Dude, you live and breathe this, this is not just a career choice. This is an extension of you.” He and I would literally play together and write together and listen to music together until 4 in the morning and be like, “Oh, crap, I guess we should be normal people.”
It’s awesome to know somebody on that level. A lot of times, we don’t even have to talk about stuff. We have this amazing musical language onstage now, we’re able to do these improv sections where we don’t really know how we’re gonna end things. But between the four of us, we can give each other a look and figure out how to make these moments with these crowds and then somehow bring it back around to end the song. It’s pretty fantastic to have that kind of relationship with people.
Regarding improvisation—is that something new, bringing it into your live set?
Hottinger: We’ve been doing it a few years—picking a song and just going off on it and trying to make it different and exciting every night. To me, that’s where music is alive: in front of a crowd, pure improv, just expression, the four of us speaking rhythmically at each other. I love throwing weird rhythms in an improv solo with Arejay, and he’ll talk with me. He’ll leave me with a rhythm and we’ll go on a triplet run or something—just fun moments coming together and trying to make this explosion, to make the crowd go, “Woo!” It’s really alive and exciting, because you can fail, and we have failed. We’ve had some real bad jams, like, “Whoa, let’s end this. We’ve gotta move on.”
Hale: We haven’t had the total train wreck yet, but there have been some performances where afterwards we’re like, “Wow, that could’ve been really great and it totally wasn’t.”
Hottinger: [Laughs with Hale.] Let’s not do that again!
YouTube It
Halestorm perform one of their signature songs, “I Miss the Misery,” on May 10, 2018, at the Santander Arena in Redding, Pennsylvania. Lzzy Hale rocks one of her Gibson signature model Explorers, while Joe Hottinger demolishes the solos with his Gibson Custom Shop-built Firebird.
A well-organized sample library is crucial for musicians, producers, and sound designers. It enables smoother workflows, saves time, and nurtures creativity by providing easy access to the perfect sounds.
Greetings, and welcome! Last month, I began the first of a multi-part Dojo series centered around field recording and making your own sound libraries by focusing on the recording process. This time, I’m going to show you ways to organize and create a library from the recordings you’ve made. We discover things by noticing patterns in nature, and we create things by imposing our own patterns back into nature as well. This is exactly what you’re doing by taking the uncontrolled, purely observant recordings you’ve made in the natural world and prepping them as raw material for new patterned, controlled forms of musical expression. Tighten up your belts, the Dojo is now open.
Easy Access Needs
Before you start diving in and heavily editing your recordings, identify what you have and determine how to categorize it for easy retrieval. A well-organized sample library is crucial for musicians, producers, and sound designers. It enables smoother workflows, saves time, and nurtures creativity by providing easy access to the perfect sounds. Whether you are starting from scratch or adding to an existing collection, a systematic approach can make a world of difference.
Take stock of your files, identify patterns, themes, and timbres, and then decide on potential categories for folders that make sense for your workflow. Typically, I will make dozens and dozens of raw recordings (empty stairwells, gently tapping two drinking glasses together, placing a contact mic on industrial equipment, etc.) and I will prearrange them into sub categories before I even start to edit. My top-level folders are: percussive and melodic. I may divide further depending on the source material.
For instance, recordings that could become drum hits can be separated into folders for kicks, snares, hi-hats, and percussion. Melodic information that might be used for one-shots or loops can be sorted by potential instrument type or key. This will save you hours of time later. For those who work with a specific genre, it can also be useful to group recordings by their possible stylistic context, like industrial, cinematic, or soundscapes.
Working with Raw Material
What are the best ways to start working with the raw recordings? First, make sure you have some way to edit them. Open your DAW and create a new session. Be sure to include the date and “raw recordings” in your session title and save the session. Next, import the file(s) into your DAW as a new audio track, or hardware sampler (for old schoolers). Then start listening for anything that ignites your imagination. Keep it short and pay attention to what you’re hearing. Ask yourself, “What would this be cool for?” Here’s a personal tip: Don’t delete everything that is not of immediate interest, just mute the sections that you’re not identifying with right now—they might become amazing once you start to process them with delays, reverb, and pitch shifting. Once you’ve got loads of appealing individual snippets and you’ve trimmed the start and ending for each one, you’re going to bounce or export each individual element to a specified folder on your hard drive. Now it’s time to think about file naming conventions.
“A well-organized sample library is crucial for musicians, producers, and sound designers.”
Clear and consistent file names are crucial. They ensure you can search for samples directly through your operating system or DAW without relying solely on folder hierarchies. Include lots of details like sample type, tempo, key, or sound source in the file name because it makes it easier to locate quickly in the future. For example, instead of naming a file “loop001.wav,” a more descriptive name like “Broken_Guitar_Arp_Raw.wav” provides instant context. I like using “Raw” at the end of my file name so I know it is in its original state. If you want to add processing like distortion, amp sims, modulation, and time-based effects, go ahead! Export each iteration with a new file name, e.g., “Broken_Guitar_Arp_TapeDelay.wav.”
Building a sample library isn’t just about organization—it’s also about curation. Remember that the quality of your library is waymore important than its size. Focus on making high-quality samples. Take the time to audition each of your recordings to weed out those of inferior sound quality. This decluttering process helps streamline your workflow and ensures that every file in your collection adds value.
Next month, I’ll guide you through ways to import and use your samples in your recording sessions. Namaste.
This versatile ramping phaser is distinguished by a fat voice, vibrato section, and practical preamp.
Uncommonly thick phaser voice. Useful range of ramping effects. The practical preamp section can be used independently. Nice vibrato mode.
Visually cluttered design. Some ramping effects can be difficult to dial in with precision.
$249
Beetronics FX
beetronicsfx.com
The notion behind a ramping phaser predates the phaser pedal by many moons—namely in the form of thetwo-speed Leslie rotating speaker. A Leslie isn’t a phaser in the strictest sense, though the physics behind what the listener perceives are not dissimilar, and as any phaser devotee can tell you, there are many audible similarities between the two. At many phase rates and intensities, a phaser stands in convincingly for a Leslie, and the original king of phasers, theUniVibe was conceived as a portable alternative to rotary speakers.
Fundamentally, the analog 6-stageBeetronics Larva Morphing Phaser (which, henceforth, we shall call the LMP) effectively mimics the acceleration and deceleration of a two-speed Leslie speaker. That isn’t a new concept in the pedal universe. But Beetronics’ take offers many cool variations on that ramping effect. It also features a wet-signal-only vibrato setting and a nice sounding preamp. And at its core is a rich, deep phase voice that is a distinct alternative to many standard-bearing phasers.
Thick As Honey
There is an inherent richness in the low-to-mid range in the LMP’s phase voice—even at the lowest resonance settings. Beetronics lofty sonic goal and inspiration were the famously warm and dusky Moogerfooger MF-103 12 -stage Phaser, and it certainly It sounds thicker than any of my vintage or vintage-clone phasers, including both 4- and 6-stage models. The heft of this phaser voice will be enough to sell the LMP to some prospective customers. Surely the preamp, which lends its own fatness, contributes something to the low-mid weight. On the other hand, I used the LMP’s preamp alone in front of each of the vintage phasers I tested and each still sounded comparatively thin in that part of the EQ spectrum, so there is something in the modulation section of the LMP circuit that adds its own thump and heft. When you use the phaser in clean and low-gain overdrive situations, that low-mid bump can sound pretty nice, especially if a bright amp or guitar are in the chain or you use reverb or another effect that tends to emphasize treble peaks. Things can get a little more complicated when you stack effects, use big, mid-scooped fuzzes, or situate your phaser at the front of an effects chain. A potential buyer would be wise to investigate how that tone profile fits with the most permanent parts of their rig, and some may dig a more traditional sound that makes room for more detail, but in general I loved the sound, particularly in minimalist effect arrays.
Fluid States
The ramping or “morphing” effect that is the marquee feature in the LMP is engaging, practical, and opens up many possibilities, particularly in terms of segues and phrase punctuation. Obviously, the independent sets of rate and depth controls for each phase circuit enable morphs between very different phase textures. But it’s the ramp-shape switch that makes the LMP much more than just two phasers in one. In the leftmost position, phaser 1 will ramp up or down to the phaser 2 position at the rate determined by the ramp speed control and stay fixed there until you hit the left footswitch again (clip 1). If you also set the ramp speed to zero, this makes the switches between the two phasers instantaneous.
In the middle position, the left footswitch assumes non-latching functionality. It will ramp to the phaser 2 speed when you hold the switch and return to phaser 1 speed when you release. And when you set the ramp rate to zero, you can create momentary and instantaneous switches between speeds as you hold or release the switch (clip 2). In the rightmost position, phaser 1 ramps to phaser 2 as you hold the switch and then moves back to the phaser 1 rate immediately after it is released. I enjoyed using radically different phaser rates for these functions most, but more subdued and mellow shifts are no less useful for lending musical interest in the right context.
Hits From the Hive
Beetronics famously has fun with their pedal designs. Enclosure graphics are typically bold and eye-engaging, and while that makes the company’s wares feel like treasures among meat-and-potatoes stomps, it can make the pedals needlessly busy to some. A number of players will no doubt feel the same about the LMP, and the cluttered enclosure graphics and blinking lights can have the effect of making the pedal seem less approachable than it is. In fact, the LMP is pretty intuitive once you learn which control is which. The phaser knobs are mirror images of each other. The preamp controls (preamp level and master output) are comparatively petite but grouped conveniently in the center. The chrome-ringed (and very range-y) ramping speed and resonance controls are visually distinct from the rest of the knobs, while the two 3-way toggles for ramping shape and the preamp-only, preamp + phaser, and vibrato + phaser modes are easy to sort out. It’s no model of minimalist, easy-to-read graphics, and I wouldn’t want to sort out this pedal for the first time on a dark stage. In general, though, functionality does not suffer much for the bold appearance.
The Verdict
The U.S.-made LMP is a solid, high-quality piece of work that makes its $249 price tag much more digestible. And the degree to which you perceive the cost as excessive will certainly depend on the degree to which you consider phaser, rotary, and vibrato sounds foundational within your musical creations. Accordingly, you should consider the value score here on a sliding scale. But with a fine-sounding and functional preamp section and ramping capability broad enough to span simple Leslie emulation, and radical shifts that can themselves serve as dramatic musical hooks and punctuation, the Larva Morphing Phaser could, for the right player, … um …“bee” more than the sum its parts
The voice of the guitar can make the unfamiliar familiar, expand the mind, and fill the heart with inspiration. Don’t be afraid to reach for sounds that elevate. A host of great players, and listening experiences, are available to inspire you.
In late fall, I had the good fortune of hearing David Gilmour and Adrian Belew live, within the same week. Although it’s been nearly two months now, I’m still buzzing. Why? Because I’m hooked on tone, and Gilmour and Belew craft some of the finest, most exciting guitar tones I’ve ever heard.
They’re wildly different players. Gilmour, essentially, takes blues-based guitar “outside”; Belew takes “outside” playing inside pop- and rock-song structures. Both are brilliant at mating the familiar and unfamiliar, which also makes the unfamiliar more acceptable to mainstream ears—thereby expanding what might be considered the “acceptable” vocabulary of guitar.
Belew was performing as part of the BEAT Tour, conjuring up the music of the highly influential King Crimson albums of the ’80s, and was playing with another powerful tone creator, Steve Vai, who had the unenviable role of tackling the parts of Crimson founder Robert Fripp, who is a truly inimitable guitarist. But Vai did a wonderful job, and his tones were, of course, superb.
To me, great tone is alive, breathing, and so huge and powerful it becomes an inspiring language. Its scope can barely be contained by a venue or an analog or digital medium. At Madison Square Garden, as Gilmour sustained some of his most majestic tones—those where his guitar sound is clean, growling, foreign, and comforting all at once—it felt as if what was emanating from his instrument and amps was permeating every centimeter of the building, like an incredibly powerful and gargantuan, but gentle, beast.
“The guitar becomes a kind of tuning fork that resonates with the sound of being alive.”
It certainly filled me in a way that was akin to a spiritual experience. I felt elevated, joyful, relieved of burdens—then, and now, as I recall the effect of those sounds. That is the magic of great tone: It transports us, soothes us, and maybe even enlightens us to new possibilities. And that effect doesn’t just happen live. Listen to Sonny Sharrock’s recording of “Promises Kept,” or Anthony Pirog soloing on the Messthetics’ Anthropocosmic Nest, or Jimi Hendrix’s “Freedom.” (Or, for that matter, any of the Hendrix studio recordings remixed and remastered under the sensibilities of John McDermott.) Then, there’s Jeff Beck’s Blow by Blow, and so many other recordings where the guitar becomes a kind of tuning fork that resonates with the sound of being alive. The psychoacoustic effects of great tones are undeniable and strong, and if we really love music, and remain open to all of its possibilities, we can feel them as tangibly as we feel the earth or the rays of the sun.
Sure, that might all sound very new age, but great tones are built from wood and wires and science and all the stuff that goes into a guitar. And into a signal chain. As you’ve noticed, this is our annual “Pro Pedalboards” issue, and I urge you to consider—or better yet, listen to—all the sounds the 21 guitarists in our keystone story create as you examine the pedals they use to help make them. Pathways to your own new sounds may present themselves, or at least a better understanding of how a carefully curated pedalboard can help create great tones, make the unfamiliar familiar, and maybe even be mind-expanding.
After all these years, some players still complain that pedals have no role other than to ruin a guitar’s natural tone. They are wrong. The tones of guitarists like Gilmour, Belew, Vai, Hendrix, Pirog, and many more prove that. The real truth about great tones, and pedals and other gear used with forethought and virtuosity, is that they are not really about guitar at all. They are about accessing and freeing imagination, about crafting sounds not previously or rarely heard in service of making the world a bigger, better, more joyful place. As Timothy Leary never said, when it comes to pedalboards and other tools of musical creativity, it’s time to turn on, tune up, and stretch out!
Follow along as we build a one-of-a-kind Strat featuring top-notch components, modern upgrades, and classic vibes. Plus, see how a vintage neck stacks up against a modern one in our tone test. Watch the demo and enter for your chance to win this custom guitar!