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Listen to the May 2017 PG Spotify Playlist
Listen to the latest tracks from Morrissey sideman Boz Boorer, Valerie June, Once Human’s Logan Mader and Max Karon, and Norman Blake—and the mighty hill-country legend R.L. Burnside.
Thanks to some key years working at a celebrated music store, this band of brothers has the goods.
The Band Royale, the Chicago-based brotherly “yacht metal” outfit, know a thing or two about gear—guitarists Joel and Zach Bauman, plus bassist Marc Najjar, all worked at Chicago Music Exchange, one of the premier music shops in North America. PG’s Chris Kies traveled deep into the band’s bunker in Chicago for this Rig Rundown with Najjar and the Bauman brothers.
This 1972 GibsonLes Paul Custom was Joel’s first “real” guitar, which he bought from CME. It’s all original except for the tailpiece, and weighs in at a whopping 11 pounds. Joel keeps it in open D6 tuning.
Mock Mockingbird
Someone brought this fake Mockingbird into CME one day, and Joel decided he had to have it. It boasts neckthrough construction with maple and mahogany, a Bill Lawrence dual blade pickup, brass nut, and heftier .012-gauge strings. The original builder must’ve liked the sticker he added to the body; it’s underneath the lacquer.
Warming Up
While Brian Carsten was still an amp tech at CME, Joel bought this Carstens Amplification Warm Machine off of him—the first he ever made. It’s designed around a master-volume, 50-watt Marshall head circuit, with a bit more warmth. Joel has had this one for over two decades now, and runs it through a Fender Bassman 2x12 cab with Celestion Creamback speakers.
He’s also been experimenting with a Quilter Overdrive 200 for a lighter solution, which he runs through a Bergantino 2x12 cabinet—Joel calls the cab and Quilter combo a “game-changer.”
Joel Bauman’s Pedalboard
The jewel of Joel’s board is a 1981 Ibanez Tube Screamer, gifted to him by Josh Klinghoffer. There’s also a Durham Electronics Sex Drive, EHX Micro POG, Xotic EP Booster, Friedman BE-OD, Boss CE-2W, Strymon El Capistan, and Strymon Flint, plus a Korg Pitchblack Advance tuner.
Holesome
Zach Bauman isn’t bothered by the gaping hole in his 1990 Gibson SG; it gives the guitar a whole lot of character. This guitar has a Gibson T-Top Burstbucker in the bridge, and has been modded to have just two pots for master tone and volume. Zach strings it with .011–.052s.
Painted Paul
Zach snagged this 1979 Les Paul while working at CME, and scraped off a nasty previous paintjob with a card before getting to work making it his own. A friend painted the headstock, and another made him this custom pickguard. It’s also got T-Tops in the neck and bridge.
Mig Buff
Zach loves his Sovtek Mig 60 head, which he plays through a cab he built himself at a pipe-organ shop in Denver. Every glue joint is lined with thin leather for maximum air tightness, and it’s stocked with Celestion G12M Greenback speakers.
Zach Bauman’s Pedalboard
On Zach’s board, we find a Klon clone, Ibanez Tube Screamer, Boss VB-2W, Ibanez Mini Chorus, Strymon Flint, and Strymon El Capistan, along with a Dunlop Volume (X) pedal and a TC Electronic PolyTune.
Bergantino’s Best
Najjar has deep love for Holly and Jim Bergantino and their Bergantino Audio Systems products. He plays with both a Forte and Forte HP Ultra—a 2000-watt prototype—through a Bergantino HDN112 cab and special 3x10 cab.
Bass for Babies
Najjar’s Sandberg Forty Eight finished in shoreline gold, nicknamed the “golden baby,” was the first of its kind.
Going to California
This Sandberg California TT4 has ’70s-style J-bass pickups and a 34” scale. Najjar gets a “Geddy Lee-style” vibe from it.
Marc Najjar’s Pedalboard
Najjar’s tone temple is topped off with a Bergantino Super Pre brass preamp into his Neural Quad Cortex.
There’s something beautifully paradoxical about Luther Dickinson’s new album, Dead Blues Vol. 1. It’s a collection of blues standards that were performed by the Grateful Dead throughout their career, yet it sounds like neither traditional blues nor Dead-style interpretations. Instead, it exists in some liminal space between the Mississippi Delta and the cosmos—a place where Blind Lemon Jefferson meets synthesizers and omnichords, and Willie Dixon’s words floats over funk grooves and ambient soundscapes.
“I would never claim to be a bluesman,” Dickinson says during a phone interview from the road, somewhere between Asheville and Nashville. For someone whose band, North Mississippi Allstars, has earned multiple Grammy nominations exploring roots music, it’s a surprising admission. “I’m more of a psychedelic folk rocker, you know? That’s what I claim, if anything.”
This perspective—reverent toward tradition but unbound by its conventions—defines Dead Blues Vol. 1. The album reimagines nine blues songs from the Dead’s repertoire, featuring the remarkable vocals of Datrian Johnson alongside contributions from Phil Lesh’s son Grahame Lesh, the Hold Steady’s Steve Selvidge, Dickinson’s brother and Allstars band mate Cody, and pedal-steel wizard Ray Ray Holloman.
The genesis of the record stemmed from two separate ideas colliding in Dickinson’s mind. In 2013, Phil Lesh invited Dickinson and his brother Cody to join Phil & Friends, the legendary Grateful Dead bassist’s rotating collective of musicians. As Dickinson studied up on the Dead catalog for rehearsals and performances, he and Grahame Lesh began performing casual Dead Blues shows focusing specifically on the blues songs in that band’s repertoire. “Grahame and I started doing the Dead Blues to do looser, easier shows outside of the Dead musician pool,” Dickinson explains. “We’d bring in musicians and artists outside of Phil’s scene to play with us. That was really fun.”
Around the same time, Strolling Bones Records approached him about doing a Grateful Dead tribute. “I was like, man, I don’t know,” he admits. “My only in was like, ‘Well, I could do a Dead Blues thing.’ But that was years ago, and I didn’t really consider it. It wasn’t at the top of my to-do list, you know?”
Johnson and Dickinson bring the blues to Tipitina’s in New Orleans.
Photo by Camilla Calnan
The project might have stayed dormant had the pandemic not shifted Dickinson’s creative direction. When touring stopped in 2020, he found himself working on an instrumental record—and not only that, but one “where I didn’t play guitar,” he explains. Instead, he wrote the material on bass and keyboards during the lockdown, creating spacious, experimental soundscapes with no connection to the blues standards—"Who Do You Love,” “I’m a King Bee,” “Little Red Rooster”—they would eventually be paired with.
Then came the revelation. “I woke up one morning and I was like, ‘Datrian could sing the Dead Blues lyrics on top of this instrumental record!’ And sure enough, it just happened so easily. It was so fun that, within three sessions, we had the record done. And after the fact, I went in and overdubbed guitar on it as the last flavor.”
Which Dickinson actually does frequently. “Usually if I’m overdubbing guitars, I’ll do it at the last minute,” he says. The guitar work he added referenced the original blues melodies even when Johnson’s vocals didn’t directly follow them. “Even if Datrian isn’t singing it, the guitar work I added is more referential, a nod to the original melodies. My stance is the melody and the poetry is to be protected. All the trappings of production, the beats, the fashion of an interpretation—that’s malleable. But the melody and the poetry is what’s interesting to protect.”
Datrian Johnson proved to be the crucial element that transformed the project. Keyboardist John Medeski had introduced Dickinson to the Asheville-based vocalist a couple of years ago during work with The Word, Dickinson’s band with Medeski and Robert Randolph. The chemistry was immediate. “He’s one of the most moving vocalists I’ve ever worked with onstage,” Dickinson says. “I’ve worked with Mavis Staples, John Hiatt, Patty Griffin, Robert Plant, Chris Robinson—some of the best vocalists in rock ’n’ roll. But Datrian has this thing. People are like, ‘What the…?’”
Indeed, his delivery on tracks like “Little Red Rooster” and “High Heeled Sneakers” demonstrates an interpretive depth that honors the source material while completely reimagining it. “He’s such a humble, unassuming guy,” Dickinson continues of Johnson. “And then he starts singing … I just remember people’s reactions. I’ve never seen anyone make an audience gasp before.”
The album’s unconventional approach—featuring melodica, Wurlitzer, DX7 synthesizer, omnichord, and what Steve Selvidge calls “space-funk guitar”—reflects Dickinson’s philosophy about roots music. These blues standards may be traditional, some stretching back nearly a century, but Dickinson gives them a somewhat futuristic-sounding treatment. Which, to his mind, puts him in the same forward-thinking tradition as the bluesmen themselves. “Musicians that try to be old-timey—I’m not into it,” he says. “If you think about it, Charley Patton was revolutionary. He was forward-thinking. Howlin’ Wolf was forward-thinking. Little Walter, Robert Johnson … none of these guys were trying to be old-fashioned. Every great musician—Charlie Christian, Jimi Hendrix—they were all forward-thinking.”
Dead Blues Vol. 1 reimagines nine blues songs from the Grateful Dead’s repertoire.
“Every great musician—Charlie Christian, Jimi Hendrix—they were all forward-thinking. No one was trying to be old fashioned.”
That same spirit could be found in the Grateful Dead, though Dickinson’s relationship with the band came relatively late. “I didn’t grow up with it. I stayed away from it,” he says. That changed in 2013, with Phil Lesh’s invite. “We jumped at the opportunity and studied up on the catalog,” Dickinson recalls. The education deepened over years of performances, particularly at Lesh’s venue Terrapin Crossroads. “Most of our work was on the West Coast, but then when Phil took me to New York and I saw the East Coast Deadheads, I was like, ‘Holy shit.’ They were singing along to every word. It’s not just the parking lot and the dancing and the jamming. It’s the songs.”
That realization also deepened Dickinson’s appreciation for Robert Hunter’s lyrics, which he calls, “pure, classic Americana, on a par with Dylan, I think,” he says. “That generation, Garcia as well, they weren’t hippies, they were beatniks. They were older than the hippies. They grew up reading Jack Kerouac and listening to the radio. They remember before rock ’n’ roll. That generation of writers that grew up like Dylan and Hunter and my dad—they grew up listening to the radio before TV, and they had a way with words that will never come again.”
Dickinson dedicated Dead Blues Vol. 1 to Lesh, who passed away in October 2024. “Phil changed my life,” Dickinson says. “He welcomed me into his crew, taught me his repertoire, shared his improvisational approaches, and introduced me to a whole new community of musicians. This record reflects Phil’s wild musical spirit and approach to reinterpretation.”
Dickinson combines slide guitar with synthesizer on Dead Blues Vol. 1.
Photo by Jim Summaria
“When Phil [Lesh] took me to New York and I saw the East Coast Deadheads … they were singing along to every word. It’s not just the parking lot and the dancing and the jamming. It’s the songs.”
That wildness manifests in bold instrumental choices and fearless reimagining. The omnichord, played by Paul Taylor, adds an otherworldly shimmer. Ray Ray Holloman’s pedal-steel work provides both traditional country blues flavor and sci-fi textures. Steve Selvidge’s “space-funk guitar” creates grooves that feel simultaneously vintage and futuristic. Selvidge has been in Dickinson’s orbit since childhood—their fathers played in a band together. “Steve is so multifaceted,” Dickinson says. “He can play country blues like his dad, he can play rock ’n’ roll—he’s my favorite rock ’n’ roll player of my peers. With the Hold Steady he’s straight rocket. But space funk, that’s the style he’s playing on this record.”
For his part, Dickinson discovered that synthesizers could intertwine with slide guitar in ways that feel both ancient and futuristic, which can be heard throughout the album, particularly on tracks like “Little Red Rooster” and “High Heeled Sneakers.” “I realized a synth can be as expressive as a slide guitar,” he says. “And I’ve never experimented with slide guitar and synths together before, which was really fun. I was like, ‘These sound cool.’”
Perhaps the track that best exemplifies the album’s aesthetic is “Who Do You Love,”—a Bo Diddley classic transformed by layers of funk guitar and bass, DX7 synthesizer, cajon, and omnichord into something that sounds like it could soundtrack a midnight drive through Mississippi on Mars. Yet Dickinson’s guitar work, added last, references the original melody, grounding the experimentalism in tradition. “That one worked really nicely,” Dickinson says, especially when we realized we could put the hook over that melody. And then Datrian made it so smooth.”
Dickinson steps out front for a solo at Tipitina’s.
Photo by Camilla Calnan
“I realized a synth can be as expressive as a slide guitar.”
For Dickinson, Dead Blues represents the next step in a significant shift in his approach to guitar. “During 2020, I sold most of my Gibsons,” he reveals. “I grew up playing Les Pauls and 335s, and I just got burned on that very sound I used to strive for—the neck pickup, midrange feedback, sustain, fat, oozy tone. It started hurting my ears. I think it was just too much of a good thing.”
Dickinson says there were “a lot of things” that led to him changing up his sound, but working with Phil Lesh was an important factor. “Playing with Phil, I was finally able to become comfortable playing clean as opposed to relying on distortion or fuzz. It really changed my life. My whole time I’ve been trying to make an electric guitar respond like an acoustic guitar. And what really turned me on was that Steve Selvidge gave me a guitar, a partscaster, with Lollar Regal pickups—Fender-style wide-range humbuckers. Man, those pickups are so cool because they’re a quiet humbucker, but they don’t sound like a PAF or whatever. They’re beefier than a Strat, kind of like a civilized gold-foil. Those pickups just changed my life. And then my friends and I started making guitars called Vibratone. Those two guitars are a lot of what you hear on the album.”
Even as Dickinson releases Dead Blues Vol. 1, he’s characteristically busy with multiple projects. North Mississippi Allstars are continuing to tour behind their recent album, Still Shaking, and also preparing for a new studio effort. Additionally, Dickinson reports he’s working on what he calls an “ambient blues” project—“like a folk film score. Instrumental modern acoustic country blues with organic drones.”
In this regard, Dead Blues Vol. 1 is of a piece with Dickinson’s restlessly exploratory approach—whether it’s ambient blues or Dead Blues, he’s always pushing boundaries while staying rooted in tradition. It’s about honoring and celebrating the past more than it is about attempting to preserve it. “American roots music as a whole is worthy of being protected,” Dickinson says. “When old-timers teach you the repertoire, you owe it to them to keep that repertoire alive. But if you can’t evolve and adapt, you won’t survive.”
Luther Dickinson’s Gear
Guitars
Partscaster with Lollar Regal wide-range humbuckers
The life of a guitar tech is equal parts craft, chaos, and on-the-fly problem-solving. Though Ryan Chan, Luis Munoz, and Drew Foppe share this whirlwind existence, their unique paths—and the gigs those paths have led to—highlight just how varied and demanding it can be.
Luis Munoz makes the catch.
Chan’s journey began long before he was wrangling digital and hybrid rigs for bands like Loathe and Spiritbox. Growing up in Hong Kong, he dreamed of music production, though a move to the U.K. would quickly alter that goal. Munoz took a more deliberate path, landing in Hollywood and sharpening his skills as a luthier before finding himself in the middle of pop-rock’s great revival working for Olivia Rodrigo. Foppe, meanwhile, initially had no desire to work in music, but he still found himself pulled into a decades-long career with some of the biggest names in the business.
These three techs come from very different places, both professionally and geographically. Still, their stories converge in the relentless grind of touring life, full of long days, constant travel, and endless hours working behind the curtain to keep internationally-known guitarists playing and sounding their best. Here, they step out from behind that curtain to discuss the stories, rigs, and realities that shape a life lived just out of the spotlight.
Ryan Chan (Loathe, Spiritbox)
Ryan Chan gets in tune.
You were born in Hong Kong and literally moved halfway across the world to start your career. Tell me about that journey and how you became a guitar tech.
Ryan Chan: I wanted to be a producer, so I came to Leeds six years ago because of music university, where I joined the music production program. There was one guy in my course named Adam, who’s a good friend of mine, and he was a front-of-house engineer for Loathe. I think at one point they needed a tech, and he was like, “You like to mess with guitars. Come do it with me on the road.” And that’s how it all started.
You’re currently working with Loathe and planning a big North American tour. What’s a day in the life for you when you’re out with them?
Chan: We don’t load in until maybe 2 o’clock. From there, it’s just kind of getting everything set up. I get all the pedalboards laid out and everything else ready to be thrown on the stage. Then it’s soundcheck, show, and then pack down, and on to the next show. I usually restring the guitars maybe once every three to four days.
As of this next tour, they’re also having me more involved outside of just the touring stuff. Like, two days ago, I was at Loathe’s new space helping program some sets with the playback and MIDI stuff.
Loathe showcased some of their unique guitars and equipment on one of ourRig Rundowns. What are they taking out these days?
Chan: There are four guitars and four basses. Some of them are spares that get used depending on how they’re feeling that day. We don’t carry different guitars with different tunings. They use multiple tunings, but they’ll tune everything themselves. The main variation is, one’s a baritone and one’s a normal-scale guitar. And I’m the only backline tech, so I’m also the one who looks after all their MIDI keyboards and stuff, too.
Loathe still use tube amps, although a lot of bands have turned to digital modelers for touring. How has the rise in digital touring rigs affected your work?
Chan: I’m used to it. Digital’s reliable, and it’s predictable. You’re not rolling the dice every time you put the amp in the trailer. When I worked with Spiritbox, they’ve always been all digital.
But with Loathe, it’s actually an interesting hybrid of [Fractal] Axe-Fx and amps. Eric [Bickerstaffe] plays with a [Marshall] JCM800 and treats the Axe-Fx as a big front-end pedalboard. Faisal [El-Khazragi], the bass player, uses an Ampeg SVT. But I believe, for this next tour, we’re actually switching back to Axe-Fx for pure simplicity. I guess, maybe more so for bass, the trade-off is worth it.
You’re still in the early part of your career. Are there any lessons you’ve learned on the road that make you better at your job?
Chan: One thing I’ve had to learn is how to communicate and ask people for help, rather than waiting for someone higher up to do the asking for me. You’ve gotta be a bit more assertive, and be like, “All right, here’s an issue. I need to go find the people that will help me fix this issue.” Also, if I’m gonna say no to something, I’d better have a really good reason as to why we can’t do it.
Talk about the reality vs. the expectation of being a touring guitar tech.
Chan: I don’t want to undersell it, but it’s not as glamorous as people might want to make it out to be. It is very much a job. When you first get into it, it’s so fresh, and it’s so exciting. It’s so fun. Then suddenly that wears off, and you have to look at it as a responsibility. So learning to enjoy the road again has been a fun experience for me.
The three tools Ryan Chan can’t live without:
● Dunlop String Action Gauge
● Multi-bit screwdriver
● USB-powered soldering iron
Luis Munoz (Olivia Rodrigo, Smashing Pumpkins, Bush, LP)
Luis Munoz brings an Ernie Ball Music Man St. Vincent to the Olivia Rodrigo stage.
Your goal was always to be a guitar tech. But how did you get your foot in the door in such a competitive industry?
Luis Munoz: It’s a hard community to get into, but once you’re in, you’re in forever. So I remember thinking to myself, “I’m going to become undeniable and really good at what I do.” So, I went to Guitar Craft Academy in Hollywood and started working in shops around town. But I always wanted to go on tour. Then one of my clients and another buddy got me a gig, and I went on my first tour for an artist that goes by the name of LP. Just like that, I started getting call after call.
You’ve worked for some massive rock bands. But working in a huge pop production like Olivia Rodrigo’s has to be a lot different. What’s a typical day in that camp look like?
Munoz: My days would start with changing strings and doing all the stuff that I need to so that, when the stage is rolled into place, we can start plugging in, patching, and making sure everything works. We do a quick line check, and then the band would come out and run a song or two. Then you hurry up and wait until it’s your time to do a show.
Doing the show is, I feel, what’s different in the pop world versus the rock world. I was part of the show. I would hand [Olivia] the guitar way out at the end of the thrust. Then I’d have to run that whole thing back, and, when she’s literally about to hit the chord, I would hit the unmute button. Then, when she’s done, I’d mute it, go on stage, and she’d throw me the guitar. After every show, I’d be drenched in sweat, like I just worked out.
Olivia is featuring a ton of guitar in her shows these days, and you’re responsible for three players, including your wife, bassist Moa Munoz. What kind of gear does the production require?
Munoz: Olivia loves rock and wants to try different things. So, this last tour we went from having two guitars to seven. It’s another funny pop-world thing, but we had different guitars for different outfits.
And yeah, I would also take care of my wife, Moa, who had five basses, and Daisy [Spencer], the second guitar player. She was doing a lot of acoustic stuff, but said, “I want to play electric on this tour.” I thought the [Ernie Ball Music Man] St. Vincent might look cool, and she was like, “Fuck yes. That’s the one!”
Ariana [Powell, guitar] also had a whole guitar boat to herself. My buddy takes care of her on stage right.
With such a choreographed production, are you guys using digital amp modelers?
Munoz: Definitely, I don’t think people understand how many variables you have to deal with when using amps. Everything from if the power is different to amps going from a trailer to a sea container to a plane to a bus. So Daisy and Ari were on Kempers, and then Moa was on Helixes. It’s all MIDI-controlled, because even the band actually has choreography now.
Tell me about a humbling experience or a lesson you learned on the road that made you better at what you do.
Munoz: When I was still doing local repairs and things, [Bush guitarist] Chris Traynor’s tour manager called me and asked, “Have you ever been on tour as a tech?” And I was like, “You know what? No. But I can’t imagine it being hard.” I remember he was like, “Did you just say it was going to be easy? I don’t think this is gonna work out.” [Laughs.] I was trying to sound overly confident. But, funny enough, a year or two later, Chris hit me up again, and I actually tech’d with Bush.
For people wanting to get into your world, what’s a reality of the job they should prepare for?
Munoz: It’s different hats when you’re a luthier and when you’re a tech on the road. Being a tech has helped me to not be so precious. You know, “If you’ve got a stripped strap button, you can’t just shove toothpicks in there and super glue.” And it’s like, of course not—in a perfect situation. But sometimes you just need to get it fixed.
You earned a soccer scholarship and degrees in mathematics and psychology. How did you end up as a guitar tech?
Drew Foppe: I never planned to really be involved in music, ever. I wanted to do social work. But guitar kind of took over, and I just started following it. I got into a band and did that for about a year and a half. About five days after I quit, my buddies said, “Hey, why don’t you tech for Opiate for the Masses?” I was like, “What’s a tech?” [Laughs.] So I became a guitar tech, and haven’t stopped in almost 25 years.
Now you’re on the road with Shinedown, one of the biggest rock bands of the past few decades. What does a typical day look like for you when you’re on tour?
Foppe: When I get in, I immediately go and set up the warm-up room. The next hour and a half or so, I’ll change strings. That takes about three hours to do all 20 guitars. After I get done, I’ll get all the gear in position and start running all the cables for the keyboards, pedalboards, and all that stuff. Then it takes about 20 minutes to change all the wireless packs to the correct frequencies. Shortly after that, we line-check the gear with a crew jam. Everything’s pretty dialed at this point.
When the show starts, every single song is a guitar change, and they have four stages. I do about 10 to 12 miles of steps during a show!
Zach Myers’ love for gear is well known in guitar circles. Tell me about the rig you handle for him every show?
Foppe: We’re getting eight channels from Zach. There are three electric wireless lines and one acoustic. The acoustic goes out to a Fishman DI. The electric goes to two pedalboards. I have one in my tech world and one on the stage. From the boards, it goes to the [Fractal] Axe-Fx III. And from the Axe-Fx, we’re using Synergy power amps that hit two 112 ISO cabinets. We also send the amps to UA OX Boxes with a modeled 112 open back cabinet. Then there’s the outs from the Axe-Fx.
Digital modelers are usually employed to simplify signal chains. You obviously use them very differently. Do you pick a side in the digital vs. analog debate?
Foppe: I was probably right in the heart of when analog and digital were fighting for commonplace in the industry. Digital just gave you more options. Transitioning between the two, I think they’re integrated so well now that I don’t think it matters. I’ve done both for the biggest artists in the world, and stadium artists use digital and stadium artists use analog. They just use what they like and what they’re comfortable with.
You’ve worked with some incredible artists across multiple genres. Is there a secret to getting called back for the next artist or tour?
Foppe: I truly believe that having a psychology degree has helped me navigate these waters. When you’re working with artists who know exactly what they want, you just gotta listen and take it all in instead of coming in like, “I can do whatever. I can’t do whatever.” I think if you just listen to what people are saying, that gives you a good head start. That’s what really helps you grow as a tech and get other jobs.
Surrounding yourself with music, gear, and travel sounds romantic, but what are some truths about teching that you’d like to share with people considering it as a career?
Foppe: The first thing you’ve got to do is learn the craft of guitar repair, amp repair, programming, signal flow, and troubleshooting. All that stuff comes before you actually get a job. But the work aspect is only maybe 40 percent of the job. Working well with people and being self-motivated is pretty much everything else.
It’s also long hours, being away from your family, and you start to almost change your friend groups. That’s why they call it your “tour family.” So learning guitar skills, working well with people, and being okay to work when you’re tired is ultimately the key to being a guitar tech.
After their Covid-delayed, smash-success reunion tour a few years back, My Chemical Romance plotted the Long Live the Black Parade North American stadium tour this past summer.
PG’s Chris Kies joined the run at Soldier Field in Chicago, and before the show, he rendezvoused with techs James Bowman, Josh Schreibeis, and Joe Saucedo—who handle Frank Iero, Ray Toro and Mikey Way’s rigs, respectively—for a look at the axes, amps, and effects the heavy-hitting emo titans are using these days.
After Iero got this Castedosa Marianna Semi Hollow, it became the show starter for this summer’s tour. This, and all other guitars, are tuned down a half step with Ernie Ball Paradigm strings (.011–.052).
Bury Me in White
Iero favors Ernie Ball StingRays like this one, in matte “Stormtrooper” white. The only mod on this guitar is the addition of Luminlay dots on the side of the neck.
One and Done
This 1992 GibsonLes Paul gets played only for the title track off the band’s 2006 record, The Black Parade.
Under Pressure
This tiny, light Abernethy Guitars electric takes Bowman forever to string. If anyone has tips, send them his way.
Purple Reign
After using Marshall Super Lead heads with the Dookie mod on the previous tour, Iero found these slick purple heads and brought them to Dave Friedman to match the Dookie specs and add some EQ tweaks. These two, a main and backup, are responsible for the bulk of Iero’s sounds.
A Fender Twin Reverb onstage is responsible for “small-amp sounds,” while a Twin Reverb Tone Master underneath it sends a clean DI signal for the mix in Iero’s in-ear monitors.
Welcome to the Rack Parade
Iero’s backstage rack includes three main racks of effects, all powered by Strymon Zumas.
The first carries a Mesa Boogie 5-Band Graphic EQ, Amaze by Analogman Prince of Tone, Bowman Audio Endeavors Bowman Overdrive, JHS Hard Drive, and Hayashi Craft Trick Gain.
Drawer two is about modulation, and includes a Boss TR-2, MXR Phase 100, Boss DM-2W, EarthQuaker Devices Ghost Echo, EHX Micro POG, and EHX Holy Grail.
The last drawer bears a Jackson Audio Twin Twelve, EHX Deluxe Memory Man, Ibanez Tube Screamer Overdrive Pro, and Bowman Audio Bellyacher.
Toro’s Top
Toro plays this 1978 Les Paul to start the show, including tracks “The End.,” “Dead!,” and “House of Wolves.” He runs .011–.052-gauge strings on all his guitars.
Second Fiddle
This sunburst Les Paul has been outpaced by the black ’78, but it still comes out for “Welcome to the Black Parade” and “Famous Last Words.”
Super 6
This 2005 Fender Custom Shop Telecaster sees action on six tunes in the band’s set.
Ray Toro’s Amps
A head combo of a Marshall JMP and Metropoulos Amplification Metro (both running into Fryette PS-100s) comprise Toro’s main tones, while an Amplified Nation Wonderland Overdrive 1x12 combo is used for solo sounds, and a Fender Deluxe Reverb handles cleans. Toro’s signal is pumped through two 4x12 cabs—one Marshall, one Bad Cat.
Ray’s Really Rockin’ Rack Rig
A Shure Axient wireless system sends his guitar’s signal to this system backstage, where it hits a Radial JX44 and a pair of RJM Effect Gizmos.
One drawer holds an MXR Duke of Tone, MXR Custom Badass ’78 Distortion, Boss GE-7, Boss CH-1, Kernom Moho, Kernom Ridge, and Wampler Gearbox.
In the next are two Boss GE-7s, two Bowman Overdrives, a Death by Audio Fuzz War, a Source Audio EQ2, a Bowman Bellyacher, and a Keeley Compressor Mini.
The third shelf is home to an EHX POG2, 1981 Inventions DRV, Chase Bliss Preamp MK II, Boss TR-2, MXR Carbon Copy, Keeley Loomer, and MXR EVH Phase 90.
A fourth level hosts a Strymon TimeLine, Strymon BigSky, and Source Audio EQ2.
Out onstage at his feet, Toro keeps a pedalboard with a TC Electronic PolyTune, a custom RJM Mastermind PBC/6X, Ibanez TS808, Bowman Audio Bowman Overdrive, EHX Micro POG, Boss TR-2, MXR Carbon Copy, and Strymon BigSky.
Strymon Zumas keep everything chugging along.
Comeback Kid
This silver-sparkle Fender Jazz bass was built for the band’s reunion tour, intended to mimic Way’s earlier signature model. It’s since been treated to more affordable Mexico-made production runs. Way runs Ernie Ball Hybrid Slinky strings (.045–.105) and plays with Clayton triangle picks.
Red!
This eye-catcher was made by Fender’s Brian Thrasher, and is equipped with pickups from the Adam Clayton signature bass. Way relies heavily on this one, then switches to an identical one for down tunings.
Dodger That
Way secured permission from Major League Baseball and the Los Angeles Dodgers to use the team’s exact hue of blue on this custom instrument.
Mikey Way’s Amp
Way runs through a Fender Super Bassman head into matching 8x10 cabs, with a DI signal also running to front of house.
Mikey Way’s Effects
Way keeps things simple. Along with an Origin Effects DCX Bass and Cali76 set to push his Super Bassman, his setup includes a pair of Aguilar Agros, an MXR Sub Octave Bass Fuzz, and a Malekko B:assmaster.
For many, Wolfgang Van Halen will always be defined by his famous origin story. The son of guitar legend Eddie Van Halen and actress Valerie Bertinelli, he first banged out rhythms on stacks of magazines before moving to real drums. As a teenager, he unexpectedly became the spark for Van Halen’s mid-2000s reunion with David Lee Roth—a run that brought long-awaited, sold-out tours, a 2012 studio album, and a 2015 live release. The band’s time, however, ended when Eddie passed away in October 2020 after a long battle with cancer. In the years between their final tour and his father’s death, Wolf had quietly been crafting a solo album, which he set aside to spend more time with Eddie.
In time, Van Halen returned to the music he’d quietly begun before his father’s passing. In late 2020, he unveiled his debut single, “The Distance,” a heartfelt tribute to Eddie that introduced his Mammoth WVH project to the world. The album that followed was very much his own—he wrote the songs, sang, and played all the instruments. From there, he quickly established himself on his own terms. Four years later, he was riding high on the strength of two acclaimed albums, with his sophomore effort, Mammoth II, building on the promise of his lauded debut. Throughout that cycle, Wolfgang did it his way—opening for Metallica, Foo Fighters, Creed, and Slash featuring Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators, while also packing venues nationwide on his first proper U.S. headlining tour.
While things couldn’t have been going any better professionally, Van Halen slowly felt the angst of this budding success catching up to him. On a September 2024 flight to Mexico to close out his stadium run with Metallica, the multi-instrumentalist felt a strange pain suddenly take over his body. Then his vision started to blur, and he felt like he was going to vomit. He turned to his uncle, Patrick Bertinelli, one of the “trusted people” who goes on tour with him, swiped at his leg, and told him he didn’t feel well in the manner of a seven-year-old who had a tummy ache. Cold and drenched in sweat, Van Halen’s uncle put his hand on his head and said, “Yeah, you don’t feel good, man.” After what felt like hours in the airplane bathroom—but was really about 25 minutes—the sensation finally passed.
What was really going on was the culmination of nerves that ended up being all-encompassing. With Mexico City’s altitude nearing 7,000 feet, and having never set foot in the city before, Van Halen was worried about how he’d be able to sing in high elevation. It was also the final show of the Metallica jaunt, so he wanted to wrap things on a positive note. Add to that a lack of sleep before the flight, and thoughts spun around in his head until he became physically sick.
Today, sitting backstage in Rhode Island ahead of another arena-opening date for Creed, the road-weary Van Halen can’t help but chuckle at that confluence of events.
“It was my first panic attack,” Van Halen says. “I never felt my body betray itself so hard. On paper, I’m a very anxious person, but that was a whole other level.”
For Van Halen, the angst of that moment proved to be a harbinger of the stresses that surrounded the making of his new third studio album.
Wolf gets his tap on in Memphis.
Photo by Chuck Brueckmann
As he got to work on what was to become The End, Van Halen faced challenges beyond his control. For the better part of the past few years, the 34-year-old, along with longtime Van Halen family confidant and guitar tech Matt Bruck, painstakingly rebuilt 5150, the Los Angeles-area studio his father constructed and where every Van Halen album since 1984 had been recorded. The renovation was completed between Mammoth albums, making the recording process this time around far smoother and streamlining pre-production considerably.
While working on pre-production following the Metallica dates, Van Halen decided to make some changes, including rechristening the project Mammoth after securing the trademark to the name. Usually, Van Halen cooked up ideas on his laptop to hear them and see how they’d come together. In the rebuilt studio, fully operational to his standards, he could play a riff, run to the drums to track it, then hop over to the bass. This efficient setup allowed Van Halen, once again teaming with frequent collaborator Michael “Elvis” Baskette, to work much more smoothly. And, just like prior Mammoth albums, he played every instrument himself, calling it his “purest form of artistic expression.”
“When I was making Logic demos, the process of it bogged down the creativity,” he says. “It would take too long for me to get the drums that I wanted, so that I would give up, and the creativity would be lost.”
Now, armed with 5150 set up to his standards, the album came together quickly. Drawing from several unfinished ideas he’d carried over from previous writing sessions, Van Halen put a “fresh coat of paint” on them, setting off a creative chain reaction from which most of the ideas for The End emerged. He spent the next few months recording before heading back out on the road to play arenas with Creed.
Van Halen says The End “has a rawer vibe, and I was happy to keep the rough edges for people to feel like they’re in the studio with me.”
Photo by Travis Shinn
“In comparison to how I was on the first album, which was very reserved, guitar-wise, I’m starting to worry less about what people think and what people say.”
In January, though, problems arose. Van Halen wasn’t immune to the anxiety that the wildfires destroying parts of Los Angeles caused among the city’s residents. Their proximity to 5150 was never far from his mind, looming as a menacing presence that threatened both the Van Halen home and, in turn, his studio. This tension, set against the backdrop of working on new music, underscored the lurking horrors of Mother Nature. “That’s where most of the anxious, doomsday energy in the lyrics comes from,” he says. “I couldn’t focus on my things.”
With not just his gear, but also his father’s, sitting in 5150, Van Halen knew how important it was to keep everything safe. He recalls a three-week period when Eddie’s iconic Frankenstein guitar sat in the backseat of his car, ready to go in case he had to evacuate with little time to spare.
“I thought, I’ll have Frankenstein and my wife, and we’re good,” he says. “And then we had a U-Haul filled with whatever else we felt was worth saving, which was very tough. Luckily, it didn’t come to that, but it was a traumatizing time we’re still working through.”
That tense energy from this period—the panic attack on top of the fear of losing his father’s remaining physical possessions—is reflected throughout The End. Lyrically, Mammoth songs have always been Van Halen’s outlet for processing anxiety, even when the exuberant melodies suggest otherwise. This album was no different.
Songs like the Foo Fighters-inspired “I Really Wanna” (where he addresses standing up to the bullies he’s faced over the years … and there’s a particular pointed line that sharp-eared listeners will catch) and “One of a Kind”—two of his favorites—came together smoothly thanks to the streamlined pre-production process. In fact, he says he wouldn’t have taken a chance on the “wacky” tempo changes in “One of a Kind” without it.
Van Halen puts the EVH SA-126 thought its paces onstage in Lexington, Kentucky.
Photo by Chuck Brueckmann
This didn’t mean the work was easy. Van Halen pushed himself as both a musician and vocalist, and laying down his vocals proved to be the toughest challenge yet. “I was uncomfortable a lot of the time,” he says of the process. But stepping out of his comfort zone—for example, on the bluesy “Better Off”—forced him to grow as a singer.
The Endisn’t what its title implies. Instead, after finding his way on his first few albums, it’s a cohesive body of work that shows the depth and growth of Van Halen’s songwriting. Look no further than the title track, which opens with a tapped sequence reminiscent of you-know-who. (“It was fun to have that ear-catching moment,” he says.) It’s an idea Van Halen had been sitting for nearly a decade, just waiting for the perfect song where it would finally fit.
“I always thought it was a little over the top,” Van Halen says. “I thought of it as a challenge: ‘How can you make this the centerpiece of an idea, but still make a cohesive song around it?’ That was the songwriting challenge.”
It’s one that he aced. Throughout the song’s fun, in-your-face three-and-a-half minutes (listen closely, and there’s a nod to “Source of Infection” from OU812), Van Halen shreds with the confidence of a guitar wizard and the ease of a natural on what stands as The End’s leanest, meanest, most action-packed song. And speaking of action-packed, the accompanying video was directed by none other than legendary “Mariachi-style” filmmaker Robert Rodriguez.
A longtime fan of Rodriguez (Van Halen cites From Dusk to Dawnand Spy Kids as favorites), the two met at a show on the Mammoth IItour in the director’s hometown of Austin. The thought of Rodriguez directing a Mammoth video felt like a “pie-in-the-sky dream.” After playing demos of the new material for the filmmaker, Van Halen worked up the courage to ask Rodriguez if he’d be up for it, and he was intrigued. When Van Halen sent him the completed version of “The End,” Rodriguez came on board, bringing effects guru Greg Nicotero along with him.
“I never felt my body betray itself so hard. On paper, I’m a very anxious person, but that was a whole other level.”
“The amount of talent being utilized for such a silly thing just blew my mind,” Van Halen says of the zombie-themed video, which includes cameos from actor Danny Trejo, Slash, Myles Kennedy, and Valerie Bertinelli. “It was so fun … it was happy, with smiles throughout the whole shoot.”
At its core, The End is a balanced, guitar-driven album. Although Van Halen still considers himself a drummer—the first instrument he ever played—his guitar work has matured, and he sounds more confident than ever. There are flashes of virtuosity, as on the title track, but overall, he focuses on what best serves each composition.
“In comparison to how I was on the first album, which was very reserved, guitar-wise, I’m starting to worry less about what people think and what people say,” Van Halen explains. While The End, he says, “may be a bit reserved compared to Mammoth II, it feels more balanced this time around. It has a rawer vibe, and I was happy to keep the rough edges for people to feel like they’re in the studio with me.”
“There are a lot of expectations around me—so many preconceived ideas that it feels impossible for anyone to have a neutral opinion.”
With The End, Van Halen takes a reflective look inside. After years of having millions of fans watch him since he was barely able to drive, he’s finally comfortable with his place in music. So much so that it’s allowed him the vision to start looking further down the road. While recording The End was fruitful, four remaining song ideas weren’t fleshed out. Those could serve as the foundation to a fourth album, one that Van Halen notes that even without writing new material, he’d have plenty in the bank to draw from. By merging the old and new, he can turn a simple idea into something that feels more alive—a mantra he carries into every Mammoth session.
“There are a lot of expectations around me—so many preconceived ideas that it feels impossible for anyone to have a neutral opinion,” he says. “From the beginning, I’ve tried to stand out as my own person, without all of the bullshit that comes with the name and the controversies and everything that's come before me. It's just nice to be able to be judged for the music itself, rather than what people think or say about me.”
When reminded that some of his peers—musicians he admired as a young player—are now among rock’s biggest names, Van Halen quickly retorts that most people still see him as a kid. Some, he jokes, will never see him as anything more than that.
“That’s the tough thing!” he says with a laugh. “I feel like I'm gonna be a kid until I’m an old man. I’m never going to be just a guy. Like, I just want to be a guy.”
Zach loves his Sovtek Mig 60 head, which he plays through a cab he built himself at a pipe-organ shop in Denver. Every glue joint is lined with thin leather for maximum air tightness, and it’s stocked with Celestion G12M Greenback speakers.
![Devon Eisenbarger [Katy Perry] Rig Rundown](https://www.premierguitar.com/media-library/youtube.jpg?id=61774583&width=1245&height=700&quality=70&coordinates=0%2C0%2C0%2C0)
Luis Munoz makes the catch.
