The former Kinks lead guitarist talks about changing the course of guitar history with “You Really Got Me,” what he thinks of Van Halen’s version, and what it would take to bridge the cataclysmic rift between him and brother Ray.
With all the tone-chasing we guitarists do today, you hear a lot of talk about how certain things are going to make some magical difference in our sound. We’ll argue endlessly about whether class-A amps, new-old-stock tubes, germanium transistors, and countless other minutiae are superior to their alternatives. But rarely do you hear us talk about getting that perfect sound by purposely ravaging the structural integrity of our gear. Perhaps that’s a shame—because when former Kinks lead guitarist Dave Davies turned visceral in his tone pursuits back in 1964 while recording the band’s seminal hit “You Really Got Me,” he single-handedly changed the sound of rock ’n’ roll forever.
“I always wanted to write a song about that period in my life and what was going on,” Davies recently told Premier Guitar. And with “Little Green Amp,” the lead single from his new solo album, I Will Be Me, he did just that. Back when Davies and fellow Kinks—older brother Ray (vocals and rhythm guitar), bassist Pete Quaife, and drummer Mick Avory—were recording their eponymous debut, Dave couldn’t get a sound that he liked out of his tiny green Elpico amp. It was either too bassy or too bright, but never right. So he decided to slash the speaker with a Gillette razor blade. The result was a raw, ragged, primal distortion that went down in history forever. “In all modesty,” says Dave, “I think that sound changed an awful lot of people’s values and ideas about guitar playing, and music in general.”
It’s a bold claim, but it really is no exaggeration. Dave Davies is the guy who introduced the glorious mayhem of the distorted power chord to the guitar vernacular. Popular music has never been the same since. Artists as disparate as the Ramones, Van Halen, Metallica, Green Day, and, well virtually anyone who’s hit a power chord owes a debt to Dave.
“You Really Got Me” hit No. 1 on the U.K. charts and put the Kinks on the map the same magical year that saw the Beatles heralding the British Invasion with their legendary appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show. It seemed the Kinks were poised to follow suit as the next British superstars, but the band had a reputation for violent in-fighting—incidents like Avory sending Dave to the hospital after flinging a cymbal at his head, and Ray getting into a scuffle with a union member during a 1965 American tour were the norm. These incidents and other missteps got the Kinks banned from performing in the States for four years—well past the peak of the Invasion. Nevertheless, Dave and the Kinks made their mark as an iconic band with hits like “Waterloo Sunset,” “Lola,” “All Day and All of the Night,” and “Come Dancing.”
But the Kinks’ legacy has long been marred by acrimony between Dave, the extrovert, and Ray, the more introspective one. They were the last of eight children, and they’ve had a career-long feud that went beyond simple sibling rivalry. The sheer animosity between the two is at a level that makes Eddie Van Halen and David Lee Roth seem like best friends. While the tension made for many incredible moments onstage, the band disbanded in 1996 and never looked back. To this day, it seems the war may never end. Even after bassist and founding member Pete Quaife passed away in 2010, Dave refused Ray’s proposal to play at the funeral.
That’s not to say Dave is musically inactive. In addition to the recent creative surge that sparked I Will Be Me, he has released several solo albums since 1980. And with its impressive assemblage of guests—including Anti-Flag, the Jayhawks, and Geri X, among others—Dave’s latest effort showcases a broad range of stylistic influences that go way beyond just three power chords.
We recently caught up with Dave, who was fresh off his stint at New York City’s City Winery, to discuss I Will Be Me, get new perspectives on that ravaged little amp, and see what it would take to get him to reunite with Ray.
What ignited this period of creativity that culminated with I Will Be Me?
Lots of things—everything from the economic situation of the world to the political situation across the board to my first grandson being born. And I was happy with the songs I was writing. I felt like I was in a good space in my head with the songs, and that’s always a good place to start. I felt motivated to write. Once I got one song together, the other ones kind of crept out. The first one I wrote was “Living in the Past”—that kick-started the writing.
What’s that one about?
It’s basically about a character who’s confronted with the world falling apart. He kind of tends to look back but he can’t ignore the future. He’s reminded on a daily basis that the future is here to stay. When we get confronted with strange world conditions we tend to try and stick our heads in the sand sometimes.
The intro sounds a bit like “Sunshine of Your Love.”
I don’t know. Everything sounds like something. What I wanted to do was make it like a Kinks riff—like something I would do on a Kinks record. [Sings “Sunshine of Your Love” riff.] Cream was really inspired by “You Really Got Me”—they copied the riff.
So they owe you for that.
They owe me something, I think [laughs].
Congratulations on becoming a grandfather. Is that what inspired “The Healing Boy”?
Yes, it’s about him. It changes the way you feel about the world and injects more optimisim into your life.
That song starts off with an eclectic, almost classical vibe, and then veers off into something of a country-folk style when the vocals enter.
Yeah, I like a lot of classical music. I like to cross-pollinate with classical, techno, rock, and all sorts of things when the mood is right.
According to amp repairman Russ
Fletcher, the Elpico AC-55 was first made by the British company Lee
Products around 1956, and it was intended to amplify tape recorders and
record players—hence the "Gram" (gramophone) input jack. It put out 10
watts and used six tubes—an EZ80 rectifier, two EL84 power tubes, and an
ECC81 PI and two ECC81s in the preamp. “I've seen one or two with
ECC83s/12AX7s instead of the ECC81s,” says Fletcher. Reportedly, the
fuzz-guitar sound on the Beatles’ "Tax Man" was Paul McCartney playing
through an Elpico.
While recording the Kinks’ debut album in
1964, Dave Davies altered the course of guitar history with the help of
an Elpico AC-55 amp like this one. Unhappy with the sounds he was
getting from it, he slashed his Elpico’s speaker with a razor blade and
inadvertently created one of the rawest sounds in early rock, as heard
on the classic “You Really Got Me.” Photos courtesy of Russ Fletcher
(russhifi.blogspot.com)
“Little Green Amp” refers to the amp that changed rock ’n’ roll
forever. Throughout the song, you also make spoken references to
historically significant songs like Bobby Darin’s “Splish Splash” and
Gershwin’s “Summertime.” Is there some sort of common thread?
It’s mainly autobiographical, but I tried to make it humorous. There was a record I used to love as a kid—Bobby Darin. [Sings] “Splish, splash, I was taking a bath,” and then [sings]
“Summertime, and the livin’ is easy.” I was just having a bit of fun.
There’s also a reference to the Kinks’ “Sunny Afternoon.” [Sings] “In the summertime….”
The “Little Green Amp” riff sounds like the “You Really Got Me” riff played backwards.
It is exactly that riff backwards.
Did you use the little green amp on that track?
No, I used a little old Peavey Decade—a solid-state amp.
Did you slice its speaker with a razor blade?
No. I just cranked it and used a cheap mic.
What sorts of reactions did you get to that sound back when “You Really Got Me” first came out?
People either loved it or hated it. Some were, like, “What the [expletive] is that shit?” Other people would say, “Wow!” It was mixed feelings, but once the record started to chart and do well, people really took to it. It was quite a revolutionary step, really, in regards to modern music. There was nothing like it. They didn’t have heavy metal or hard rock back then—it was unheard of.
There’s some controversy about who played the solo on that song.
Oh, come on! It’s me that played it—it couldn’t be anybody else. The way that I played that solo, no one on this planet could play it like me. That’s ridiculous.
How did you replicate the “You Really Got Me” sound after that? There weren’t as many amp options back then. Did you go around slashing more speakers?
No, no. After that, in the early ’70s, amplifier manufacturers developed pre-gain. So, in a way, I should have patented it and called it pre-gain. I already knew what it was—basically cranking up and overdriving one amp to boost the input of another amp. It gave a lot of people different notions about amplification. We found that, in that time, people were making amps that had pre-gain and post-gain. Mesa/Boogie—when I heard their amps, I thought they perfected it to a really great degree. I still use Mesa/Boogie amps. They’re great. I love their tone and the way you can really push the pre-gain. It’s not the same, but in principle it’s similar.
Dave Davies pays tribute to the “Little Green Amp” that changed rock ’n’ roll forever at a recent engagement at New York City’s City Winery.
When you played “Little Green Amp” at your recent City Winery gig, your solo differed from the album version. Do you like to improvise solos live?
Yeah, I can only improvise. I only have a little block where I’m supposed to do it, so I just do it for fun. If you keep playing the same old thing all the time, that drives you insane.
But it also increases the risk of something going wrong, doesn’t it?
That’s the whole magic of live music—that’s why we like it.
Davies playing a Strat live with the Kinks in 1974, photo by Greg Papazian
How did you feel about Van Halen’s cover of “You Really Got Me” when it came out
It’s okay. I love it when people copy what I do and what the Kinks do. The Kinks’ recording of “You Really Got Me” sounds like anxious kids who are struggling—like kids fighting the world. The Van Halen version sounds too accomplished—it says, “We know what we’re doing.” It’s still good, but the attitude is totally different.
Would you ever reciprocate and cover a Van Halen song?
Not really—but I like their music. It's good to have different types of music and guitar sounds. The joy of music is the variety. That’s why I like to write about different things using different styles.
Looking back today, how would you describe your contributions to electric guitar?
Oh, I don’t know. I have no idea. I mean, where would any of us be without Les Paul? Where would any of us be without Big Bill Broonzy? Or Muddy Waters? Or John Lee Hooker? Or Chuck Berry, for Christ’s sake? All these things go inside you and you want to emulate or copy them all. I love that. Chuck Berry was one of the biggest influences for me. And rock people from the ’50s and ’60s. And then Les Paul changed the whole idea of recording.
Let’s talk gear. What’s your main axe now?
It’s a Fender Tele with a maple neck and Lace Sensor pickups that lean toward the Gibson mode of pickups.
On the original recording of “You Really Got Me,” you used a semi-hollow Harmony guitar. Can your Tele get you in that ballpark?
No, not really. But it’s just a more modern version of it. It’s similar. The original guitar I used was a semi-acoustic Harmony Meteor with DeArmond pickups.
This is where it all began. Armed with a Harmony Meteor semi-hollowbody, Dave Davies (far right) hams it up in this classic live footage of the Kinks playing “You Really Got Me”—the song that changed rock ’n’ roll—and guitar playing—forever.
You previously used a Gibson Flying V. What took you away from that?
It’s difficult to play [laughs]. And the weight is all wrong—the neck and the machine end. It’s a fancy guitar to look at—it’s really a piece of visual art.
Earlier you mentioned you’re using Mesa/Boogie amps—which model?
A Dual Rectifier.
That’s slightly surprising, given that it’s such an iconic heavy metal amp.
Yeah, but I like it. You can mess around with it—don’t just plug it in and switch on the heavy-metal button [laughs].
Why did you use the Peavey Decade instead of the Dual Rectifier on “Little Green Amp”?
Because I’ve found that when you record, little amps sometimes have more impact. In the studio, you might only need that compressed, tight sound. People don’t know that it’s not a thousand -watt amp when they hear it, if it sounds right. Big amps are good for when you’re playing a big place.
Given that you and Ray are still healthy and making music, what do you think it would take for the remaining members of the Kinks to get back together?
I have no idea. [Maybe] if Ray just had a bit more grace about my value in the history of the Kinks. I mean, he’s always undervalued my input. That’s why I had to make this album. Because, y’know, I will be me—I am a person with ideas, energy, and a spiritual path. It’s emotional and we have to start nurturing and encouraging people around us to help us, not just take the good bit. We’re all in this together—it’s the same, politically and globally. We shouldn’t try and isolate ourselves from other people. We need to learn to integrate ourselves with humanity.
You have a great spirit.
A lot of that spirit grew out through listening to people like Huddie Ledbetter [Lead Belly] and Hank Williams and all these great musicians. The spirit has always been there—rock music has always been a force for the good, I think. We abused it to meet our own agenda for greed and big business, but at the heart of it, rock ’n’ roll has always had a true and pure spirit.
The Kinks’ “All Day and All of the Night” spearheaded the three-chord rock genre. The screams that emanate from the crowd in this classic clip from 1965 make it clear that a revolution was in the making.
The Spirit Fall trio: drummer Brian Blade (right) and saxophonist Chris Potter (center) joined Patitucci (left) for a single day at The Bunker. “Those guys are scary. It almost puts pressure on me, how good they are, because they get it really fast,” says Patitucci.
Legendary bassist John Patitucci continues to explore the sound of a chord-less trio that balances melodicism with boundless harmonic freedom—and shares lessons he learned from his mentors Chick Corea and Wayne Shorter.
In 1959, Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue and John Coltrane’s Giant Steps—two of the most influential albums in jazz history—were recorded. It’s somewhat poetic that four-time Grammy-winning jazz bass icon John Patitucci was born that same year. In addition to a storied career as a bandleader, Patitucci cemented his legacy through his lengthy association with two giants of jazz: keyboardist Chick Corea, with whom Patitucci enjoyed a 10-year tenure as an original member of his Elektric and Akoustic bands, and saxophonist Wayne Shorter’s quartet, of which he was a core member for 20 years. Patitucci has also worked with a who’s who of jazz elites like Herbie Hancock, McCoy Tyner, Dizzy Gillespie, and Michael Brecker.
What distinguishes Patitucci is that he is one of the few jazz musicians who simultaneously enjoys a vibrant career as a classical bassist and first-call session bassist. His résumé—which includes recordings with pop icons like Sting and Bon Jovi, and hundreds of film dates—is virtually unparalleled. Patitucci also composes classical music and is frequently commissioned to write music for string quartets and other chamber ensembles. Among his numerous compositions are a piece for 6-string electric bass and string orchestra that was performed with Suono e Oltre, a chamber orchestra in Italy. In short, Patitucci is the very rare jack of all trades who is also exceptional at all.
Freedom without Chords
Patitucci’s latest release, Spirit Fall, is a trio album featuring Patitucci, drummer Brian Blade, and saxophonist Chris Potter. This instrumentation leaves out a traditional chordal instrument, and can be tricky to make sound full, as there is a large harmonic hole in the sonic space. But in the hands of master musicians, this setting offers more room for harmonic exploration and conversational interplay amongst the band members. Patitucci has been exploring this chord-less format since 2009’s Remembrance featuring Blade on drums and Joe Lovano on saxophone.Throughout Spirit Fall the trio employs a variety of textures and colors to make for an engaging listen. “Pole Star” has an open feel with the counterpoint between acoustic bass and sax discreetly implying the underlying progression. “Lipim,” which means hope in Cameroonian, has a lively afrobeat groove and a ridiculous sax solo by Chris Potter. Like many of his solos on Spirt Fall, Potter’s solo on “Lipim” veers through several harmonic detours that would have likely been hampered if a chordal instrument were imposing the harmony. “Spirit Fall” and “Thoughts and Dreams” sees Patitucci using his 6-string electric to explore gorgeously haunting figures. The bass solo on “Spirit Fall” sees Patitucci almost accompanying himself as he alternates between low notes and chords against blistering single-note lines.
Even though Patitucci had the luxury of studio time, Spirit Fall was recorded quickly, with mostly first or second takes, and the occasional third take. The trio was able to record a powerful musical statement in such a short time because they are a working band as opposed to hired guns that might possibly play together for the first time at the session.
John Patitucci's Gear
“I’m just a kid from Brooklyn,” says Patitucci. It was his formative years spent with his older brother (who played guitar) that led him to the bass.
Photo by Dave Stapleton
Guitars
- Yamaha TRBJP2 Signature Model 6-String
- Yamaha Custom Semi-Hollow 6-String
- 1965 Fender P Bass (Used on “Lipim”)
- Gagliano Double Bass
Amps
- Aguilar DB 751 for acoustic bass
- Aguilar Tone Hammer for electric bass
- Aguilar 4x10 cabinet
- Aguilar 1x12 cabinet
- Grace Design FELiX Version 2
- Grace Design m303 DI
Effects
- Line 6 HX Stomp
- Line 6 DL4
Strings and Accessories
- D’Addario Nickel Round Strings (.032-.045-.065-.085-.105-.130)
- Gruvgear Signature Straps
- Pirastro Evah Pirazzi Weich gauge
- Pirastro Perpetual
Prior to the recording, Patitucci sent demos out, and by the time they got to the studio they were ready to commit to tape. They finished the whole record in just one day without any rehearsals. “Not with those guys,” says Patitucci. “Those guys are scary. It almost puts pressure on me, how good they are, because they get it really fast [laughs]. I was hoping that my good takes were theirs too.”
Interestingly enough, while iconic chord-less trio albums by saxophonists like Sonny Rollins, John Coltrane, and Joe Henderson played a big role in Patitucci’s musical upbringing, he came to record with that instrumentation almost by accident. “We were going to rehearse for that record [Remembrance], and [pianist] Brad Mehldau, who played on some tracks, couldn’t make the rehearsal,” recalls Patitucci. “So we rehearsed at Lovano’s house and it sounded so good I was almost like, ‘Wow, maybe we should do the record as a trio.’ But I had all this music written that really was for the piano. So I said, ‘Well, maybe someday.’ And then finally we got around to it.”
Spirit Fall was tailored to the sensibilities of Blade and Potter, both of whom Patitucci has played with a lot over the years. “We have a relationship and we have a sound together already because of the way they play. Brian’s sense of dynamics has made it easier for me to get the kind of acoustic bass sound live that I've always wanted to get. It’s not easy to do that if the drummer can’t play those wide dynamics like Brian can,” explains Patitucci. “And Chris has been playing my music for years. He’s just an incredible interpreter of my music, and I love that. I remember using him in the early ’90s. Interestingly enough, around the time I did Imprint, I was using him and I was also using Mark Turner. And it’s funny. I started teaching college [Patitucci was Professor of Jazz Studies at City College of New York and is currently teaching at Berklee College of Music] a lot in 2000, and all my students were trying to sound like those guys.”“As a composer, I wanted to have a chance to have major control over the sound and how we did things, as opposed to a live record.”
As a precursor to Spirit Fall, in 2022 Patitucci had recorded Live in Italy with the same lineup of Blade and Potter. He could have easily just done Spirit Falllive againwith the trio but this time he specifically chose to bring them into the studio. “As a composer, I wanted to have a chance to have major control over the sound and how we did things, as opposed to a live record,” explains Patitucci. “Live records are great, but I wanted to record in the studio with that band so we can get into some new compositions I was writing, and some through-composed things with the 6-string, as well as the acoustic.”
How Chick Helped Turn Four into Six
Patitucci isn’t fond only of the traditional trio sans chordal instrument format. In fact, he’s recorded in just about every context you can imagine. From completely solo bass on Soul of the Bass, to his Electric Guitar Quartet with two guitarists—Adam Rogers and Steve Cardenas on Brooklyn, to guitar trio plus string quartet plus Chris Potter on Line by Line. Patitucci uses each situation as a way to grow musically.When Patitucci first started playing with Corea it was in the trio format, along with drummer Dave Weckl. Corea was a keyboardist who covered a huge sonic range and Patitucci saw this as an opportunity to push the creative envelope. “Chick and I became very close. I had enormous respect and love for him and he taught me a lot. That’s how I really discovered the 6-string, because I felt like I needed it orchestrationally to play in that band,” says Patitucci. “I started playing with Chick and at first I played my 4-string, and it’s a trio, but I have to blow on every song. And he’s got all these synths, and I’m thinking, ‘Man, I need a low string, because he’s playing all these low notes. I want to play the low notes.’ [laughs] I need a 5-string at least. Then I heard Anthony Jackson play the six. He was the pioneer who invented it.”
Spirit Fall is the documentation of a working band exploring new music in the studio. It features all new compositions and an inventive take on “House of Jade,” written by Patitucci’s longtime mentor, Wayne Shorter.
Corea fronted the money for Patitucci’s first 6-string—a Ken Smith—and took some money out of his check every week to pay it off. The transition to the 6-string wasn’t immediate for Patitucci, however. There was actually a big learning curve to the new instrument. To make matters even more daunting, the first big tour was to begin two weeks after Patitucci received the new instrument. Despite all the potential risks, Corea was very encouraging. “Chick was really patient. It was ridiculous. It was so hard. I was just a glutton for punishment,” admits Patitucci. “I just wanted the sound, and I was so naive about what it would be like. When I got the 6-string, it was a couple of weeks before we started going out on major tours and I was clamming. Like I would go down to what I thought was the E string but was now the B string.”
Once he got a handle on it, the 6-string allowed Patitucci to finally maximize the potential of his fluid soloing style. “I wanted to play the 6-string because when the blowing comes around, the C string helps me get over the top as a band,” says Patitucci. “Chick dug the fact that when I was blowing I wanted to sound more like a tenor player.”
“Wayne [Shorter] made me have the courage to play very little and hang a note up in the air.”
Shortly after Patitucci joined his band, Corea convinced GRP Records to sign Patitucci, whose 1987 eponymous first solo album reached number 1 on the Billboard Top Jazz Albums chart. Patitucci reflects, “The two biggest long term influences in terms of mentoring and what they did for my career would have been Chick Corea and then Wayne Shorter.”
The Spirit of Shorter
Patitucci first met Shorter in 1986, during the Chick, Wayne, and Al (Di Meola) tour. A year later Shorter asked Patitucci to record several tracks on his album, Phantom Navigator. This began his association with Shorter and led to Patitucci ultimately joining Shorter’s quartet in 2000.
It’s fitting that the only non-original tune on Spirit Fall is a Shorter tune, “House of Jade.” Shorter’s highly individual approach—particularly the electric stuff he was doing from the Atlantisperiod—shaped a lot of Patitucci’s conception of music. “I was playing electric bass and all the tunes were through-composed, except the blowing was like on one chord. And, you know, that’s challenging, actually,” reveals Patitucci. “And he was creating these incredible things, and he could do it with density or almost nothing, almost like one note. His lyricism and melodicism is so powerful that it really changed me. I was like, ‘Wow, I want to play like that. I want to be able to have a sound that I can be confident enough about to leave a ton of space and be able to just let space happen.’ Like, he got that from Miles.”
Moving to a 6-string bass wasn’t as natural for Patitucci as you might think. “When I got the 6-string, it was a couple of weeks before we started going out on major tours [with Chick Corea] and I was clamming.”
The minimalist approach that Shorter used at times was a stark contrast to some of the over-the-top pyrotechnics Corea’s Elektric Band was known for. “I was always into melodies too, but yes, in Chick’s band there were a lot of changes to play over, and sometimes a lot of fast tempos,” says Patitucci. “It wasn’t only chops, there were a lot of melodies and we played ballads too. I mean, I wanted to do that, but I didn’t have the courage to. Wayne made me have the courage to play very little and hang a note up in the air. With the 6-string, you can really do that. I started to realize that I was really interested in moving people in that way too.”
The Journey of the Kid from Brooklyn
Subliminally, the transition from 4- to 6-string bass might harken back to Patitucci’s childhood in East Flatbush, Brooklyn. He originally picked up the guitar, influenced by his brother Tom who had already been playing. Tom tried to teach him but ultimately the guitar just didn’t connect, and Tom sensed it. “He just said, ‘Why don’t you try the bass?’” recalls Patitucci. “Because we can play together then.” And that’s where it all began.
At 10, Patitucci got his first bass, a short-scale Sears Telstar bass that was hanging on a wall like a decoration down the street at somebody’s house on East 39th Street. “We bought it for 10 bucks and I thought it was great,” reflects Patitucci, who enjoyed rock ’n’ roll and James Jamerson’s playing on Motown Records in his formative years.
When he was 13, Patitucci’s family moved out to the West Coast. Soon after the move, Patitucci started learning the acoustic bass, and by the early ’80s, Patitucci’s career started taking off. In 1996 he moved back to New York, where he continues to break new musical ground.
With a career spanning over four decades and still going strong, Patitucci has achieved the dream that many aspiring musicians long for. What is the secret to his success? “Nobody knows the secret and anybody who tells you they know that is lying,” says Patitucci. “I don't even deserve it. I think that God was really good to me and blessed me. He somehow allowed me to have my dream come true. I look at it now as a 65-year old guy and go, ‘Wow, that was really a long shot.’ [laughs] It’s kind of unbelievable. You know what, I mean? I’m just this kid from Brooklyn, you know?”YouTube It
This trio rendition of the Beatles’ “And I Love Her” showcases John Patitucci’s ability to add chordal textures on his 6-string bass to create a full sound, even without a conventional chordal instrument like guitar or piano.
The National New Yorker lived at the forefront of the emerging electric guitar industry, and in Memphis Minnie’s hands, it came alive.
This National electric is just the tip of the iceberg of electric guitar history.
On a summer day in 1897, a girl named Lizzie Douglas was born on a farm in the middle of nowhere in Mississippi, the first of 13 siblings. When she was seven, her family moved closer to Memphis, Tennessee, and little Lizzie took up the banjo. Banjo led to guitar, guitar led to gigs, and gigs led to dreams. She was a prodigious talent, and “Kid” Douglas ran away from home to play for tips on Beale Street when she was just a teenager. She began touring around the South, adopted the moniker Memphis Minnie, and eventually joined the circus for a few years.
(Are you not totally intrigued by the story of this incredible woman? Why did she run away from home? Why did she fall in love with the guitar? We haven’t even touched on how remarkable her songwriting is. This is a singular pioneer of guitar history, and we beseech you to read Woman with Guitar: Memphis Minnie’s Blues by Beth and Paul Garon.)
Following the end of World War I, Hawaiian music enjoyed a rapid rise in popularity. On their travels around the U.S., musicians like Sol Ho’opi’i became fans of Louis Armstrong and the New Orleans Rhythm Kings, leading to a great cross-pollination of Hawaiian music with jazz and blues. This potent combination proved popular and drew ever-larger audiences, which created a significant problem: How on earth would an audience of thousands hear the sound from a wimpy little acoustic guitar?
This art deco pickguard offers just a bit of pizzazz to an otherwise demure instrument.
In the late 1920s, George Beauchamp, John and Rudy Dopyera, Adolph Rickenbacker, and John Dopyera’s nephew Paul Barth endeavored to answer that question with a mechanically amplified guitar. Working together under Beauchamp and John Dopyera’s National String Instrument Corporation, they designed the first resonator guitar, which, like a Victrola, used a cone-shaped resonator built into the guitar to amplify the sound. It was definitely louder, but not quite loud enough—especially for the Hawaiian slide musicians. With the guitars laid on their laps, much of the sound projected straight up at the ceiling instead of toward the audience.
Barth and Beauchamp tackled this problem in the 1930s by designing a magnetic pickup, and Rickenbacker installed it in the first commercially successful electric instrument: a lap-steel guitar known affectionately as the “Frying Pan” due to its distinctive shape. Suddenly, any stringed instrument could be as loud as your amplifier allowed, setting off a flurry of innovation. Electric guitars were born!
“At the time it was positively futuristic, with its lack of f-holes and way-cool art deco design on the pickup.”
By this time, Memphis Minnie was a bona fide star. She recorded for Columbia, Vocalion, and Decca Records. Her song “Bumble Bee,” featuring her driving guitar technique, became hugely popular and earned her a new nickname: the Queen of Country Blues. She was officially royalty, and her subjects needed to hear her game-changing playing. This is where she crossed paths with our old pals over at National.
National and other companies began adding pickups to so-called Spanish guitars, which they naturally called “Electric Spanish.” (This term was famously abbreviated ES by the Gibson Guitar Corporation and used as a prefix on a wide variety of models.) In 1935, National made its first Electric Spanish guitar, renamed the New Yorker three years later. By today’s standards, it’s modestly appointed. At the time it was positively futuristic, with its lack of f-holes and way-cool art deco design on the pickup.
There’s buckle rash and the finish on the back of the neck is rubbed clean off in spots, but that just goes to show how well-loved this guitar has been.
Memphis Minnie had finally found an axe fit for a Queen. She was among the first blues guitarists to go electric, and the New Yorker fueled her already-upward trajectory. She recorded over 200 songs in her 25-year career, cementing her and the National New Yorker’s place in musical history.
Our National New Yorker was made in 1939 and shows perfect play wear as far as we’re concerned. Sure, there’s buckle rash and the finish on the back of the neck is rubbed clean off in spots, but structurally, this guitar is in great shape. It’s easy to imagine this guitar was lovingly wiped down each time it was put back in the case.
There’s magic in this guitar, y’all. Every time we pick it up, we can feel Memphis Minnie’s spirit enter the room. This guitar sounds fearless. It’s a survivor. This is a guitar that could inspire you to run away and join the circus, transcend genre and gender, and leave your own mark on music history. As a guitar store, watching guitars pass from musician to musician gives us a beautiful physical reminder of how history moves through generations. We can’t wait to see who joins this guitar’s remarkable legacy.
SOURCES: blackpast.org, nps.gov, worldmusic.net, historylink.org, Memphis Music Hall of Fame, “Memphis Minnie’s ‘Scientific Sound’: Afro-Sonic Modernity and the Jukebox Era of the Blues” from American Quarterly, “The History of the Development of Electric Stringed Musical Instruments” by Stephen Errede, Department of Physics, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, IL.
In our third installment with Santa Cruz Guitar Company founder Richard Hoover, the master luthier shows PG's John Bohlinger how his team of builders assemble and construct guitars like a chef preparing food pairings. Hoover explains that the finer details like binding, headstock size and shape, internal bracing, and adhesives are critical players in shaping an instrument's sound. Finally, Richard explains how SCGC uses every inch of wood for making acoustic guitars or outside ventures like surfboards and art.
We know Horsegirl as a band of musicians, but their friendships will always come before the music. From left to right: Nora Cheng, drummer Gigi Reece, and Penelope Lowenstein.
The Chicago-via-New York trio of best friends reinterpret the best bits of college-rock and ’90s indie on their new record, Phonetics On and On.
Horsegirl guitarists Nora Cheng and Penelope Lowenstein are back in their hometown of Chicago during winter break from New York University, where they share an apartment with drummer Gigi Reece. They’re both in the middle of writing papers. Cheng is working on one about Buckminster Fuller for a city planning class, and Lowenstein is untangling Austrian writer Ingeborg Bachmann’s short story, “Three Paths to the Lake.”
“It was kind of life-changing, honestly. It changed how I thought about womanhood,” Lowenstein says over the call, laughing a bit at the gravitas of the statement.
But the moment of levity illuminates the fact that big things are happening in their lives. When they released their debut album, 2022’s Versions of Modern Performance, the three members of Horsegirl were still teenagers in high school. Their new, sophomore record, Phonetics On and On, arrives right in the middle of numerous first experiences—their first time living away from home, first loves, first years of their 20s, in university. Horsegirl is going through changes. Lowenstein notes how, through moving to a new city, their friendship has grown, too, into something more familial. They rely on each other more.
“If the friendship was ever taking a toll because of the band, the friendship would come before the band, without any doubt.”–Penelope Lowenstein
“Everyone's cooking together, you take each other to the doctor,” Lowenstein says. “You rely on each other for weird things. I think transitioning from being teenage friends to suddenly working together, touring together, writing together in this really intimate creative relationship, going through sort of an unusual experience together at a young age, and then also starting school together—I just feel like it brings this insane intimacy that we work really hard to maintain. And if the friendship was ever taking a toll because of the band, the friendship would come before the band without any doubt.”
Horsegirl recorded their sophomore LP, Phonetics On and On, at Wilco’s The Loft studio in their hometown, Chicago.
These changes also include subtle and not-so-subtle shifts in their sophisticated and artful guitar-pop. Versions of Modern Performance created a notion of the band as ’90s college-rock torchbearers, with reverb-and-distortion-drenched numbers that recalled Yo La Tengo and the Breeders. Phonetics On and On doesn’t extinguish the flame, but it’s markedly more contemporary, sacrificing none of the catchiness but opting for more space, hypnotic guitar lines, and meditative, repeated phrases. Cheng and Lowenstein credit Welsh art-pop wiz Cate Le Bon’s presence as producer in the studio as essential to the sonic direction.
“On the record, I think we were really interested in Young Marble Giants—super minimal, the percussiveness of the guitar, and how you can do so much with so little.”–Nora Cheng
“We had never really let a fourth person into our writing process,” Cheng says. “I feel like Cate really changed the way we think about how you can compose a song, and built off ideas we were already thinking about, and just created this very comfortable space for experimentation and pushed us. There are so many weird instruments and things that aren't even instruments at [Wilco’s Chicago studio] The Loft. I feel like, definitely on our first record, we were super hesitant to go into territory that wasn't just distorted guitar, bass, and drums.”
Nora Cheng's Gear
Nora Cheng says that letting a fourth person—Welsh artist Cate Le Bon—into the trio’s songwriting changed how they thought about composition.
Photo by Braden Long
Effects
- EarthQuaker Devices Plumes
- Ibanez Tube Screamer
- TC Electronic Polytune
Picks
- Dunlop Tortex .73 mm
Phonetics On and On introduces warm synths (“Julie”), raw-sounding violin (“In Twos”), and gamelan tiles—common in traditional Indonesian music—to Horsegirl’s repertoire, and expands on their already deep quiver of guitar sounds as Cheng and Lowenstein branch into frenetic squonks, warped jangles, and jagged, bare-bones riffs. The result is a collection of songs simultaneously densely textured and spacious.
“I listen to these songs and I feel like it captures the raw, creative energy of being in the studio and being like, ‘Fuck! We just exploded the song. What is about to happen?’” Lowenstein says. “That feeling is something we didn’t have on the first record because we knew exactly what we wanted to capture and it was the songs we had written in my parents’ basement.”
Cheng was first introduced to classical guitar as a kid by her dad, who tried to teach her, and then she was subsequently drawn back to rock by bands like Cage The Elephant and Arcade Fire. Lowenstein started playing at age 6, which covers most of her life memories and comprises a large part of her identity. “It made me feel really powerful as a young girl to know that I was a very proficient guitarist,” she says. The shreddy playing of Television, Pink Floyd’s spacey guitar solos, and Yo La Tengo’s Ira Kaplan were all integral to her as Horsegirl began.
Penelope Lowenstein's Gear
Penelope Lowenstein likes looking back at the versions of herself that made older records.
Photo by Braden Long
Effects
- EarthQuaker Westwood
- EarthQuaker Bellows
- TC Electronic PolyTune
Picks
- Dunlop Tortex 1.0 mm
Recently, the two of them have found themselves influenced by guitarists both related and unrelated to the type of tunes they’re trading in on their new album. Lowenstein got into Brazilian guitar during the pandemic and has recently been “in a Jim O’Rourke, John Fahey zone.”
“There’s something about listening to that music where you realize, about the guitar, that you can just compose an entire orchestra on one instrument,” Lowenstein says. “And hearing what the bass in those guitar parts is doing—as in, the E string—is kind of mind blowing.”
“On the record, I think we were really interested in Young Marble Giants—super minimal, the percussiveness of the guitar, and how you can do so much with so little,” Cheng adds. “And also Lizzy Mercier [Descloux], mostly on the Rosa Yemen records. That guitar playing I feel was very inspiring for the anti-solo,[a technique] which appears on [Phonetics On and On].”This flurry of focused discovery gives the impression that Cheng and Lowenstein’s sensibilities are shifting day-to-day, buoyed by the incredible expansion of creative possibilities that setting one’s life to revolve around music can afford. And, of course, the energy and exponential growth of youth. Horsegirl has already clocked major stylistic shifts in their brief lifespan, and it’s exciting to have such a clear glimpse of evolution in artists who are, likely and hopefully, just beginning a long journey together.
“There’s something about listening to that music where you realize, about the guitar, that you can just compose an entire orchestra on one instrument.”–Penelope Lowenstein
“In your 20s, life moves so fast,” Lowenstein says. “So much changes from the time of recording something to releasing something that even that process is so strange. You recognize yourself, and you also kind of sympathize with yourself. It's a really rewarding way of life, I think, for musicians, and it's cool that we have our teenage years captured like that, too—on and on until we're old women.”
YouTube It
Last summer, Horsegirl gathered at a Chicago studio space to record a sun-soaked set of new and old tunes.