Unlike the prehistoric mammal it’s named after, Atlanta-based metal quartet Mastodon is
adept at evolving. The band’s 2002 debut, Remission—a sludge-metal concept album—
had guitarists Brent Hinds and Bill Kelliher combining Dream Theater-level technicality
with Sabbath-meets-Motörhead grooves and moods, and even a slight nod to the Allman
Brothers on “Ol’e Nessie.” Mastodon’s sophomore effort, 2004’s Leviathan, was an onslaught of headbanging
goodness with a little Thin Lizzy panache mixed in. It garnered the band Album of the Year
awards from Kerrang!, Terrorizer, and other publications catering to the metal crowd.
LEFT: Bill Kelliher onstage with one of his Gibson Explorers at a June 2011 gig at the Patronaat in Haarlem, Netherlands. Photo by Cindy Frey Right: Brent Hinds with his silverburst Gibson Flying V at a June 2011 Mastodon appearance at the Norwegian Wood festival in Oslo, Norway. Photo by Per Ole Hagen
Up to that point, the band’s vocal approach had leaned more toward guttural roars, but 2006’s Blood Mountain saw a shift, with Hinds and bassist Troy Sanders—who share vocal duties—exploring a more melodic bent. But the band’s biggest leap forward—both creatively and commercially—came with 2009’s Crack the Skye. By far the tightest, most cohesive album in their catalog up to that point, the seven- song epic showed hints of Pink Floyd and Yes influences, as well as expanded guitar palettes: Hinds and Kelliher dialed in more clean tones, and their First Act Custom Shop 9- and 12-string axes provided a sound that Hinds described as a “ringing, atonal chorus effect unmatched by any chorus pedal.”
However, for this year’s The Hunter, Kelliher and Hinds veered away from the concept approach. “The new album is about nothing,” says Hinds, who also leads the surfabilly band Fiend Without a Face and several other side projects during Mastodon downtime. But the difference on The Hunter isn’t just lyrical. On past albums, Hinds took the lead on riff writing, but this time around Kelliher contributed more song ideas, and both wrote and recorded their own riffs and songs individually. “It’s tighter because we did it this way,” says Kelliher. Both guitarists also experimented with new gear.
Your previous albums have been pretty epic. How did your approach differ for The Hunter?
Kelliher: With Crack the Skye, most of those riffs were written by Brent, but this time we all contributed musical ideas. We decided to take a different approach, because we’re all pretty busy outside the world of Mastodon, and after touring for nearly two years we really wanted to take a break. Before The Hunter, when Brent would a write a song—or vice versa— the other person would learn it and double it, or come up with their own complementary part. But on The Hunter, there are parts and songs where it’s strictly Brann [Dailor, drums] and me or Brent and Brann—that’s something we’ve never really done before.
Hinds: I really didn’t approach The Hunter any different than our previous albums. We just decided—like we always do—to write and record a cool album that’s badass, and to do the best we can. I play guitar so much in Mastodon and my other bands that I don’t really block out time to write—if something comes to me while I’m jamming and it sticks with me, I’ll generally try recording it. But if I forget the riff or idea, then it probably wasn’t meant to be.
Bill, are you happy with how the different writing approach worked out this time?
Kelliher: It was real spontaneous— some of the stuff was even written while in the studio rehearsing and recording other songs. But honestly, I was really nervous about going at this album with the attitude of “Let’s just go record—even though we don’t know each other’s parts.” But our producer, Mike Elizondo, reassured us that a lot of bands do it that way—he mentioned that James [Hetfield, vocalist/rhythm guitar] in Metallica records all his parts, and then Kirk [Hammett, lead guitar] comes in and records the solos. Don’t get me wrong, though—the stuff we’ve done in the past, with those contrasting guitar tones and mannerisms, do give a song a bigger feel. Brent and I, James and Kirk of Metallica, or any two guitarists are never going to play the same song or the same riff the same. So I feel The Hunter is a tighter album because we did it this way.
The whole album seems to groove a little more than past albums, especially on songs like “Black Tongue,” “Curl of the Burl,” and “Blasteroid.” What do you attribute that to?
Kelliher: I think it was the atmosphere and mentality of not feeling pressure to perfect every nook and cranny of every song. We just went at it with a fun, low-key attitude that allowed us to really go places we’ve haven’t explored yet with Mastodon. With “Curl of the Burl,” that was a chorus and drum riff that Brann had for a long time, and Brent came in and added the intro riff. Whether a song is a skull-crusher or a ballad, you need to have a catchy groove— that’s something we strive for on every song. If you can’t write a great song, at least write a great groove [laughs].
Kelliher plays his 1974 Les Paul Custom and Hinds plays his Electrical Guitar Company signature model while tracking The Hunter at Doppler Studios in Atlanta, Georgia. Photo by Andrew Stuart
What was it like working with Mike Elizondo?
Hinds: Amazing. Mike is a great man—I’d vote for Mr. Elizondo for president. I really liked working with Matt Bayles on our first three records, even though it was a battle at times, because we weren’t really known or trusted as musicians yet, so we’d have creative conflicts like you would in any recording environment. Brendan [O’Brien] was the guy for Crack the Skye, but I’m glad we went with Mike, because he let us do our thing while maintaining some control and having lucid and constructive input for our song structures and guitar parts.
Kelliher: Brendan was the right choice for Crack the Skye, because we wanted that ’80s classic-rock sound, and Brendan has worked with so many acts of that genre— like AC/DC and Springsteen—so it was just the perfect fit. That album was so dialed-in and meticulous that it was helpful to have a guy pushing for perfection. But we did so many sessions and takes that it was grueling. Mike was full of energy and so excited to be with us that it just immediately clicked. Usually, when I record my parts in the studio, no one is very vocal or directing me if something sounds bad—or suggesting I try it in a different key or with a different guitar. But Mike was really vocal on what was working and wasn’t for my guitar parts.
What sorts of things would he say?
Kelliher: Sometimes I’d be going overboard with my solos or adding too many tracks. I kept layering “guitarmonies” [harmonies] and ambient noises, and it would be too much at points and he’d let me know that what I originally recorded was good enough. It was a good, creative back and forth.
Which song would you say he was particularly helpful on?
Kelliher: “Black Tongue.” The verse riff was an old riff I’d been hammering on for years, and the beginning riff for the chorus was something Brann came up with when we were messing around in rehearsals. The part that ties it altogether is the middle section with its groove—I came up with that while jamming alone one night. And then we recorded all the parts and glued them together with Mike’s help. I really like the guitarmonies I came up with by accident one night in the studio. I actually did half of the solo—the first 20 seconds—on my laptop in a hotel room in France while we were on tour. That shows you how this record was done in comparison to Crack the Skye, and how far technology has progressed. I completed that solo’s harmony part at 4 p.m., emailed it to Mike, and then he mixed it and sent us the finished song the next day. It’s amazing that you can write and record ideas thousands of miles away for your album [laughs].
What did you use to record in the hotel room?
Kelliher: I had a Yamaha SBG2000 and my Marshall Micro Stack and some Shure condenser mics I was going to use, but I decided to run it through AmpliTube’s Marshall amp models, because Warner Bros. was asking for the song to be done so they could release it as a single the next morning in the USA. I was like, “It’s not done yet!” [Laughs.] When I got done, I was so proud of myself and felt really good about it, because I had gotten it down and everyone liked it. I kind of live for moments like that. I’m a multitasker by nature. My wife says I should focus on one thing at a time—because I’m always doing several things at once—but in this instance it worked out. The deadline forced me to work some fast magic, but I don’t advise anyone to do that on a regular basis!
What did you use for the other half of the solo?
Kelliher: The second part of the solo was done in the studio before that European tour, and I really like it because it has that “Orion” [from Metallica’s Master of Puppets] feel and groove. I used this new Gibson Explorer with EMG X Series 81 and 85 humbuckers. It’s a metal-shredding beast that doesn’t sound phony—it’s quickly become my go-to super-heavy guitar. I plug straight into the amp for the majority of my recordings, so when I need something gargantuan, I have that in my back pocket. I used to hate active pickups and thought they sounded brittle and stale, but I totally dig their tone with my Explorer—it’s a clear, concise, unique distortion. I use that guitar a lot on “All the Heavy Lifting” and some of the harmonies on “Curl of the Burl.”
With its Alan Parsons Project-/Pink Floyd-style synths and chanting choirs, “The Creature Lives” is very theatrical. What was the impetus for that song?
Kelliher: [Laughs.] That was all Brann’s idea. He wrote it years ago and he pretty much directed and composed how everything fell into place. He thinks it’s going to be one of those lift-your-lighter-in- the-air-and-sway songs. I’m sure Mastodon fans will think, ‘What the hell is this?’ But I’ve heard some people compare it old Pink Floyd, with the prog-y Hammond organs. Crack the Skye was a serious record—it was a healing process for a lot of people. And that’s not to say The Hunter isn’t going to cure some ills, too, but we wanted to do a party record that was fun to make—and hopefully fun for fans to crank up and jam with some friends.
Kelliher barres his 1980 Gibson Explorer at a June 2011 Netherlands gig. Photo by Cindy Frey
What’s your favorite part of the new album?
Kelliher: I’d have to say the middle of “All the Heavy Lifting,” where there’s all this craziness between my guitar parts and Brann’s drumming. It was a spontaneous riff that I wrote while we were putting the song together, and I kind of just made it by the seat of my pants with all this creative energy swirling and pressure mounting.
Hinds: The guitar-and-drum solo part in “The Hunter”—where Brann and me play off each other—it screams “Check this out!” When you hear me and Brann bounce off each other in those moments where he takes the lead with some fills and I’m sustaining, and then I take over again—it’s a really cool thing to be in a band where you have that romantic cadence between the different instruments. I’m not sure if Deep Purple was one of the first bands to have a drum solo and a guitar solo going at the same time, but I like how it turned out a lot.
“Bedazzled Fingernails” has some pretty mind-boggling stuff going on with the timing and the riffs. How did that song develop?
Hinds: You’re, like, the third person that’s interviewed me that has asked about that song— that’s a great sign. That has been a riff I’ve been playing around with for a long time, but it never really worked in anything else until The Hunter sessions.
Those syncopated riffs sound pretty difficult to play.
Hinds: That’s the whole point—it sounds difficult, but that doesn’t mean it is difficult. Guitar playing is like being a magician—you try to do more with less and work smarter, not harder. I’ve played with hybrid-style picking—using a pick along with my middle, ring, and pinky fingers—forever, because I learned on the banjo first. But on this song I don’t really use a pick that much, I’m just using my open fingers with hammer-ons and pull-offs to get that confusing, high-speed riff illusion.
The main riff in “The Octopus Has No Friends” sounds pretty brutal, too.
Hinds: That’s just how I play guitar. That type of hybrid picking will always be a big part of my playing—whether it’s in Mastodon or my side bands. For “Octopus,” I just wanted to make things sound as crazy—like raindrops—and chorus-y as possible, so I really worked it up to speed on my 9-string First Act, because it creates those natural chorus sounds that even the best pedal can’t make.
Did you use your 9- and 12-string First Act guitars on other songs?
Hinds: They’re probably featured on nine of the 14 songs. I love playing big, open chords on them, and then also layering jangly parts when picking the strings really fast. The octave strings create this ringing, atonal chorus effect unmatched by any chorus pedal. A 6-string and a pedal sounds stale in comparison. Kelliher: I didn’t really use those at all on this album. They offered those ringing dynamics and overtones we were looking for on Crack the Skye, but that wasn’t something I strived for on The Hunter.
What was your go-to guitar for these sessions?
Hinds: My Mastodon guitar would have to be the Electrical Guitar Company acrylic V that Kevin Burkett built me a few years ago. I’ve always loved Gibson Flying Vs, and my friends King Buzzo [the Melvins] and Laura Pleasants [Kylesa] had theses killer aluminum-body-and-neck guitars from Electrical Guitar Company. So I talked to Kevin and had him make one of his V models for me. It’s a little heavy still—that’s something we’ll continue to work on—but it sounds great and is unique, as far as looks and tone—especially its sustain.
Left to right: Hinds, Kelliher, and bassist/vocalist Troy Sanders onstage in the Netherlands. Photo by Cindy Frey
Sustain is a big deal to you, isn’t it?
Hinds: Sustain is one of the most important things to me when it comes to tone and my setup. I like it so much, if I had a kid, I’d name it Sustain [laughs]. But honestly, I love sustain because it’s ghostly. It has weird textures, majestic energy, and spooky overtones that add so much depth and soul to your playing—it’s an organic interaction between you, the guitar, and the amp. I live for those overdriven vibrations and emotions.
Bill, other than that Yamaha you mentioned, what guitars did you use for The Hunter?
Kelliher: My main guitar is a ’74 Gibson Les Paul Custom 20th Anniversary tobacco burst that I recently had refretted and set up with all new hardware and volume and tone pots by the Gibson USA Custom Shop. They put in their killer ’57 Classic humbuckers, too. I also got turned on to a Fender Jim Root Telecaster that Jim gave me. It has EMG 81 and 60 pickups, but it still has the Telecaster twang to it—especially when you play close to the bridge. I was surprised. I used that on the intro to “All the Heavy Lifting”— where it has all those high notes—and then again on “Black Tongue,” where Brann’s double-bass part goes, I added some high notes into the mix with it, too.
What about amps?
Kelliher: I used my old, 2-channel Marshall JCM800s, because I always find myself going back to those amps for my tone. I really like the punch they offer and how I can cut through and be heard between Brann’s crazy drumming, Brent’s riffs, and Troy’s bass lines. I used my 100-watt Marshall Kerry King JCM800 for layering and a few other parts, but the main parts were recorded with the old JCM800s. All my amps went through this beat up Marshall 1960B 4x12 loaded with 20-watt Celestions. I love trying new gear all the time, but I always seem to come back to the Marshalls.
Hinds: I used a lot of amps for The Hunter—a Diezel VH4, an Orange Rockerverb 50, a Marshall 100-watt JMP Mark II Lead Series head, and an ’80s JCM800—but the one I used the most was a ’70 Fender silverface Princeton Reverb. No matter what guitar I used with that Princeton, it sounded and performed the best—especially for my single-note runs and clean, textural parts. For the heavier, chunky riffs and distorted solos, I used the big monster heads. I’m old-school like that.
Tell us about the cool, slow warble effect you get with your wah on “Dry Bone Valley.”
Hinds: To be considered a bona fide guitarist, you need to record one wah song. I’m starting to get pretty fond of it—I might start wearing bell-bottoms [laughs]. That slow sweep combined with some serious hammer-ons at the beginning are my favorite—it’s like a helicopter swooping down to capture swimmers in Niagara Falls. Jerry Cantrell got me one of his signature Jim Dunlop Crybaby wahs, and I figured “Dry Bone Valley” has the perfect swaggering, galloping vibe to the chorus and verses that leads right up to the wah solo perfectly.
Did either of you use any other effects on the album?
Kelliher: Probably the only effect I used was my original Ibanez Tube King, for when I really want to take it over the top and soar.
Hinds: I have an old Ibanez TS9 Tube Screamer, a Visual Sound Route 66 overdrive, a Boss RE-20 Space Echo, a Boss DD-6 Digital Delay, a Custom Audio Electronics Boost/Overdrive, a Morpheus DropTune, and a personal favorite is the Monster Effects Mastortion, which my friend John Spears built for me. It’s basically a TS808 Tube Screamer clone with more volume and low-end power.
Mastodon’s guitar sound has evolved over the years from a fast, sludgy barrage to a more melodic and subdued aggression. What do you attribute that to?
Hinds: We used keyboards all over Crack the Skye, and again with The Hunter. Keyboards and organs add another dimension that can’t be achieved with anything else. They give us this old-school, classic-rock vibe that we really want to be a part of the band. I’m sure some metal fans laugh at the organ and its spot in Mastodon, but it’s a badass instrument.
I love playing fast and heavy like we did on Call of the Mastodon and Remission, and we’ll always have that metal feel—because we all love it— but adding the melodies and harmonies, and diversifying our sound all the way up to Crack the Skye has made us a better band. The band we became during those sessions was where I saw us going years ago, but we had to experiment and find it ourselves instead of forcing the issue. And with The Hunter, it was about incorporating all the elements from our previous records and our collective and individual influences, and bringing it together for a fun, good-time, party record. The Hunter represents Mastodon’s full body of work.
Hinds’ guitars (left to right): First Act 12-/6-string doubleneck, First Act Lola 12-string, Gibson SG, Gibson Flying V, and Electrical Guitar Company signature V. Photo by Chris Kies
Brent Hinds’ Gearbox
Guitars
Electrical Guitar Company Brent Hinds Custom, First Act Custom Shop Lola 9-string, First Act Custom Shop Lola 12-string, Gibson SG, Gibson Flying V, Gibson LP-295 Goldtop Les Paul
Amps
Orange Rockerverb 50, Diezel VH4, ’80s Marshall JCM800, ’76 Marshall 100-watt JMP Mark II Lead Series, ’70 Fender Princeton Reverb, Marshall 4x12 with 75-watt Celestions, Orange 4x12, Diezel 4x12
Effects
Monster Effects Mastortion, Ibanez TS9 Tube Screamer, Visual Sound Route 66, Boss RE-20 Space Echo, Boss DD-6 Digital Delay, Custom Audio Electronics Boost/Overdrive, Boss GE-7 Equalizer, Morpheus DropTune, Jim Dunlop JC95 Jerry Cantrell Signature Wah
Strings and Picks
D’Addario EXL110s, D’Addario EXL116s (for D, dropped-D, and dropped-C tunings), Dunlop Ultex 1.0 mm picks
Kelliher’s guitars (left to right): Two Les Paul Customs, an EMG-equipped Gibson Explorer, two yamaha SBG2000s, a First Act Lola 9-string, another Les Paul Custom, and another Explorer. Photo by Chris Kies
Bill Kelliher’s Gearbox
Guitars
1974 Gibson Les Paul Custom 20th Anniversary, Fender Jim Root Signature Telecaster, two Yamaha SBG2000s, Gibson Les Paul Custom, ’82 Gibson Les Paul Custom, 1980 Gibson Explorer, Gibson Explorer with EMGs
Amps
Marshall 2203KK Kerry King Signature JCM800, two ’80s 2-channel
Marshall JCM800s, IK Multimedia AmpliTube recording software,
Marshall 1960B 4x12 cabinet with 20-watt CelestionsEffects
Ibanez Tube King Overdrive
Strings and Picks
D’Addario EXL140s, Jim Dunlop Custom Bill Kelliher Tortex Sharp .88mm picks
YouTube It...
Kelliher and Hinds tear it up on one of Mastodon’s heaviest Remission-era songs at the 2005 With Full Force Festival in Germany.
This 2006 performance of Leviathan’s 13-minute opus in Nottingham, England, opens with broodingly overdriven guitars and slowly builds to a tidal wave of epic metal.
This video from a 2009 Chicago gig shows Kelliher playing his custom First Act 9-string and Hinds playing his custom First Act 12-string on “Ghost of Karelia” from Crack the Skye.
Keith Urban’s first instrument was a ukulele at age 4. When he started learning guitar two years later, he complained that it made his fingers hurt. Eventually, he came around. As did the world.
He’s in the Songwriters Hall of Fame. He’s won 13 Country Music Association Awards, nine CMT video awards, eight ARIA (Australian Recording Industry Association) Awards, four American Music Awards, and racked up BMI Country Awards for 25 different singles.
He’s been a judge on American Idol and The Voice. In conjunction with Yamaha, he has his own brand of affordably priced Urban guitars and amps, and he has posted beginner guitar lessons on YouTube. His 2014 Academy of Country Music Award-winning video for “Highways Don’t Care” featured Tim McGraw and Keith’s former opening act, Taylor Swift. Add his marriage to fellow Aussie, the actress Nicole Kidman, and he’s seen enough red carpet to cover a football field.
Significantly, his four Grammys were all for Country Male Vocal Performance. A constant refrain among newcomers is, “and he’s a really good guitar player,” as if by surprise or an afterthought. Especially onstage, his chops are in full force. There are country elements, to be sure, but rock, blues, and pop influences like Mark Knopfler are front and center.
Unafraid to push the envelope, 2020’s The Speed of Now Part 1 mixed drum machines, processed vocals, and a duet with Pink with his “ganjo”—an instrument constructed of a 6-string guitar neck on a banjo body—and even a didgeridoo. It, too, shot to No. 1 on the Billboard Country chart and climbed to No. 7 on the Pop chart.
His new release, High, is more down-to-earth, but is not without a few wrinkles. He employs an EBow on “Messed Up As Me” and, on “Wildfire,” makes use of a sequencerreminiscent of ZZ Top’s “Legs.” Background vocals in “Straight Lines” imitate a horn section, and this time out he duets on “Go Home W U” with rising country star Lainey Wilson. The video for “Heart Like a Hometown” is full of home movies and family photos of a young Urban dwarfed by even a 3/4-size Suzuki nylon-string.
Born Keith Urbahn (his surname’s original spelling) in New Zealand, his family moved to Queensland, Australia, when he was 2. He took up guitar at 6, two years after receiving his beloved ukulele. He released his self-titled debut album in 1991 for the Australian-only market, and moved to Nashville two years later. It wasn’t until ’97 that he put out a group effort, fronting the Ranch, and another self-titled album marked his American debut as a leader, in ’99. It eventually went platinum—a pattern that’s become almost routine.
The 57-year-old’s celebrity and wealth were hard-earned and certainly a far cry from his humble beginnings. “Australia is a very working-class country, certainly when I was growing up, and I definitely come from working-class parents,” he details. “My dad loved all the American country artists, like Johnny Cash, Haggard, Waylon. He didn’t play professionally, but before he got married he played drums in a band, and my grandfather and uncles all played instruments.
One of Urban’s biggest influences as a young guitar player was Mark Knopfler, but he was also mesmerized by lesser-known session musicians such as Albert Lee, Ian Bairnson, Reggie Young, and Ray Flacke. Here, he’s playing a 1950 Broadcaster once owned by Waylon Jennings that was a gift from Nicole Kidman, his wife.
“For me, it was a mix of that and Top 40 radio, which at the time was much more diverse than it is now. You would just hear way more genres, and Australia itself had its own, what they call Aussie pub rock—very blue-collar, hard-driving music for the testosterone-fueled teenager. Grimy, sweaty, kind of raw themes.”
A memorable event happened when he was 7. “My dad got tickets for the whole family to see Johnny Cash. He even bought us little Western shirts and bolo ties. It was amazing.”
But the ukulele he was gifted a few years earlier, at the age of 4, became a constant companion. “I think to some degree it was my version of the stuffed animal, something that was mine, and I felt safe with it. My dad said I would strum it in time to all the songs on the radio, and he told my mom, ‘He’s got rhythm. I wonder what a good age is for him to learn chords.’ My mom and dad ran a little corner store, and a lady named Sue McCarthy asked if she could put an ad in the window offering guitar lessons. They said, ‘If you teach our kid for free, we’ll put your ad in the window.’”
Yet, guitar didn’t come without problems. “With the guitar, my fingers hurt like hell,” he laughs, “and I started conveniently leaving the house whenever the guitar teacher would show up. Typical kid. I don’t wanna learn, I just wanna be able to do it. It didn’t feel like any fun. My dad called me in and went, ‘What the hell? The teacher comes here for lessons. What’s the problem?’ I said I didn’t want to do it anymore. He just said, ‘Okay, then don’t do it.’ Kind of reverse psychology, right? So I just stayed with it and persevered. Once I learned a few chords, it was the same feeling when any of us learn how to be moving on a bike with two wheels and nobody holding us up. That’s what those first chords felt like in my hands.”
Keith Urban's Gear
Urban has 13 Country Music Association Awards, nine CMT video awards, eight ARIA Awards, and four Grammys to his name—the last of which are all for Best Country Male Vocal Performance.
Guitars
For touring:
- Maton Diesel Special
- Maton EBG808TE Tommy Emmanuel Signature
- 1957 Gibson Les Paul Junior, TV yellow
- 1959 Gibson ES-345 (with Varitone turned into a master volume)
- Fender 40th Anniversary Tele, “Clarence”
- Two first-generation Fender Eric Clapton Stratocasters (One is black with DiMarzio Area ’67 pickups, standard tuning. The other is pewter gray, loaded with Fralin “real ’54” pickups, tuned down a half-step.)
- John Bolin Telecaster (has a Babicz bridge with a single humbucker and a single volume control. Standard tuning.)
- PRS Paul’s Guitar (with two of their narrowfield humbuckers. Standard tuning.)
- Yamaha Keith Urban Acoustic Guitar (with EMG ACS soundhole pickups)
- Deering “ganjo”
Amps
- Mid-’60s black-panel Fender Showman (modified by Chris Miller, with oversized transformers to power 6550 tubes; 130 watts)
- 100-watt Dumble Overdrive Special (built with reverb included)
- Two Pacific Woodworks 1x12 ported cabinets (Both are loaded with EV BlackLabel Zakk Wylde signature speakers and can handle 300 watts each.)
Effects
- Two Boss SD-1W Waza Craft Super Overdrives with different settings
- Mr. Black SuperMoon Chrome
- FXengineering RAF Mirage Compressor
- Ibanez TS9 with Tamura Mod
- Boss BD-2 Blues Driver
- J. Rockett Audio .45 Caliber Overdrive
- Pro Co RAT 2
- Radial Engineering JX44 (for guitar distribution)
- Fractal Audio Axe-Fx XL+ (for acoustic guitars)
- Two Fractal Audio Axe-Fx III (one for electric guitar, one for bass)
- Bricasti Design Model 7 Stereo Reverb Processor
- RJM Effect Gizmo (for pedal loops)
(Note: All delays, reverb, chorus, etc. is done post amp. The signal is captured with microphones first then processed by Axe-Fx and other gear.)
- Shure Axient Digital Wireless Microphone System
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario NYXL (.011–.049; electric)
- D’Addario EJ16 (.012–.053; acoustics)
- D’Addario EJ16, for ganjo (.012–.053; much thicker than a typical banjo strings)
- D’Addario 1.0 mm signature picks
He vividly remembers the first song he was able to play after “corny songs like ‘Mama’s little baby loves shortnin’ bread.’” He recalls, “There was a song I loved by the Stylistics, ‘You Make Me Feel Brand New.’ My guitar teacher brought in the sheet music, so not only did I have the words, but above them were the chords. I strummed the first chord, and went, [sings E to Am] ‘My love,’ and then minor, ‘I'll never find the words, my,’ back to the original chord, ‘love.’ Even now, I get covered in chills thinking what it felt like to sing and put that chord sequence together.”
After the nylon-string Suzuki, he got his first electric at 9. “It was an Ibanez copy of a Telecaster Custom—the classic dark walnut with the mother-of-pearl pickguard. My first Fender was a Stratocaster. I wanted one so badly. I’d just discovered Mark Knopfler, and I only wanted a red Strat, because that’s what Knopfler had. And he had a red Strat because of Hank Marvin. All roads lead to Hank!”
He clarifies, “Remember a short-lived run of guitar that Fender did around 1980–’81, simply called ‘the Strat’? I got talked into buying one of those, and the thing weighed a ton. Ridiculously heavy. But I was just smitten when it arrived. ‘Sultans of Swing’ was the first thing I played on it. ‘Oh my god! I sound a bit like Mark.’”
“Messed Up As Me” has some licks reminiscent of Knopfler. “I think he influenced a huge amount of my fingerpicking and melodic choices. I devoured those records more than any other guitar player. ‘Tunnel of Love,’ ‘Love over Gold,’ ‘Telegraph Road,’ the first Dire Straits album, and Communique. I was spellbound by Mark’s touch, tone, and melodic choice every time.”
Other influences are more obscure. “There were lots of session guitar players whose solos I was loving, but had no clue who they were,” he explains. “A good example was Ian Bairnson in the Scottish band Pilot and the Alan Parsons Project. It was only in the last handful of years that I stumbled upon him and did a deep dive, and realized he played the solo on ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush, ‘Eye in the Sky’ by Alan Parsons, ‘It’s Magic’ and ‘January’ by Pilot’—all these songs that spoke to me growing up. I also feel like a lot of local-band guitar players are inspirations—they certainly were to me. They didn’t have a name, the band wasn’t famous, but when you’re 12 or 13, watching Barry Clough and guys in cover bands, it’s, ‘Man, I wish I could play like that.’”
On High, Urban keeps things song-oriented, playing short and economical solos.
In terms of country guitarists, he nods, “Again, a lot of session players whose names I didn’t know, like Reggie Young. The first names I think would be Albert Lee and Ray Flacke, whose chicken pickin’ stuff on the Ricky Skaggs records became a big influence. ‘How is he doing that?’”
Flacke played a role in a humorous juxtaposition. “I camped out to see Iron Maiden,” Urban recounts. “They’d just put out Number of the Beast, and I was a big fan. I was 15, so my hormones were raging. I’d been playing country since I was 6, 7, 8 years old. But this new heavy-metal thing is totally speaking to me. So I joined a heavy metal band called Fractured Mirror, just as their guitar player. At the same time, I also discovered Ricky Skaggs and Highways and Heartaches. What is this chicken pickin’ thing? One night I was in the metal band, doing a Judas Priest song or Saxon. They threw me a solo, and through my red Strat, plugged into a Marshall stack that belonged to the lead singer, I shredded this high-distortion, chicken pickin’ solo. The lead singer looked at me like, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I got fired from the band.”
Although at 15 he “floated around different kinds of music and bands,” when he was 21 he saw John Mellencamp. “He’d just put out Lonesome Jubilee. I’d been in bands covering ‘Hurts So Good,' ‘Jack & Diane,’ and all the early shit. This record had fiddle and mandolin and acoustic guitars, wall of electrics, drums—the most amazing fusion of things. I saw that concert, and this epiphany happened so profoundly. I looked at the stage and thought, ‘Whoa! I get it. You take all your influences and make your own thing. That’s what John did. I’m not gonna think about genre; I’m gonna take all the things I love and find my way.’
“Of course, getting to Nashville with that recipe wasn’t going to fly in 1993,” he laughs. “Took me another seven-plus years to really start getting some traction in that town.”
Urban’s main amp today is a Dumble Overdrive Reverb, which used to belong to John Mayer. He also owns a bass amp that Alexander Dumble built for himself.
Photo by Jim Summaria
When it comes to “crossover” in country music, one thinks of Glen Campbell, Kenny Rogers, Garth Brooks, and Dolly Parton’s more commercial singles like “Two Doors Down.” Regarding the often polarizing subject and, indeed, what constitutes country music, it’s obvious that Urban has thought a lot—and probably been asked a lot—about the syndrome. The Speed of Now Part 1 blurs so many lines, it makes Shania Twain sound like Mother Maybelle Carter. Well, almost.
“I can’t speak for any other artists, but to me, it’s always organic,” he begins. “Anybody that’s ever seen me play live would notice that I cover a huge stylistic field of music, incorporating my influences, from country, Top 40, rock, pop, soft rock, bluegrass, real country. That’s how you get songs like ‘Kiss a Girl’—maybe more ’70s influence than anything else.”
“I think [Mark Knopfler] influenced a huge amount of my fingerpicking and melodic choices. I devoured those records more than any other guitar player.”
Citing ’50s producers Chet Atkins and Owen Bradley, who moved the genre from hillbilly to the more sophisticated countrypolitan, Keith argues, “In the history of country music, this is exactly the same as it has always been. Patsy Cline doing ‘Walking After Midnight’ or ‘Crazy’; it ain’t Bob Wills. It ain’t Hank Williams. It’s a new sound, drawing on pop elements. That’s the 1950s, and it has never changed. I’ve always seen country like a lung, that expands outwards because it embraces new sounds, new artists, new fusions, to find a bigger audience. Then it feels, ‘We’ve lost our way. Holy crap, I don’t even know who we are,’ and it shrinks back down again. Because a purist in the traditional sense comes along, whether it be Ricky Skaggs or Randy Travis. The only thing that I think has changed is there’s portals now for everything, which didn’t used to exist. There isn’t one central control area that would yell at everybody, ‘You’ve got to bring it back to the center.’ I don’t know that we have that center anymore.”
Stating his position regarding the current crop of talent, he reflects, “To someone who says, ‘That’s not country music,’ I always go, “‘It’s not your country music; it’s somebody else’s country music.’ I don’t believe anybody has a right to say something’s not anything. It’s been amazing watching this generation actually say, ‘Can we get back to a bit of purity? Can we get real guitars and real storytelling?’ So you’ve seen the explosion of Zach Bryan and Tyler Childers who are way purer than the previous generation of country music.”
Seen performing here in 2003, Urban is celebrated mostly for his songwriting, but is also an excellent guitarist.
Photo by Steve Trager/Frank White Photo Agency
As for the actual recording process, he notes, “This always shocks people, but ‘Chattahoochee’ by Alan Jackson is all drum machine. I write songs on acoustic guitar and drum machine, or drum machine and banjo. Of course, you go into the studio and replace that with a drummer. But my very first official single, in 1999, was ‘It’s a Love Thing,’ and it literally opens with a drum loop and an acoustic guitar riff. Then the drummer comes in. But the loop never goes away, and you hear it crystal clear. I haven’t changed much about that approach.”
On the road, Urban utilizes different electrics “almost always because of different pickups—single-coil, humbucker, P-90. And then one that’s tuned down a half-step for a few songs in half-keys. Tele, Strat, Les Paul, a couple of others for color. I’ve got a John Bolin guitar that I love—the feel of it. It’s a Tele design with just one PAF, one volume knob, no tone control. It’s very light, beautifully balanced—every string, every fret, all the way up the neck. It doesn’t have a lot of tonal character of its own, so it lets my fingers do the coloring. You can feel the fingerprints of Billy Gibbons on this guitar. It’s very Billy.”
“I looked at the stage and thought, ‘Whoa! I get it. You take all your influences and make your own thing. I’m gonna take all the things I love and find my way.’”
Addressing his role as the collector, “or acquirer,” as he says, some pieces have quite a history. “I haven’t gone out specifically thinking, ‘I’m missing this from the collection.’ I feel really lucky to have a couple of very special guitars. I got Waylon Jennings’ guitar in an auction. It was one he had all through the ’70s, wrapped in the leather and the whole thing. In the ’80s, he gave it to Reggie Young, who owned it for 25 years or so and eventually put it up for auction. My wife wanted to give it to me for my birthday. I was trying to bid on it, and she made sure that I couldn’t get registered! When it arrived, I discovered it’s a 1950 Broadcaster—which is insane. I had no idea. I just wanted it because I’m a massive Waylon fan, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that guitar disappearing overseas under somebody’s bed, when it should be played.
“I also have a 1951 Nocaster, which used to belong to Tom Keifer in Cinderella. It’s the best Telecaster I’ve ever played, hands down. It has the loudest, most ferocious pickup, and the wood is amazing.”
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Urban plays a Gibson SG here at the 2023 CMT Music Awards. Wait until the end to see him show off his shred abilities.
Other favorites include “a first-year Strat, ’54, that I love, and a ’58 goldtop. I also own a ’58 ’burst, but prefer the goldtop; it’s just a bit more spanky and lively. I feel abundantly blessed with the guitars I’ve been able to own and play. And I think every guitar should be played, literally. There’s no guitar that’s too precious to be played.”
Speaking of precious, there are also a few Dumble amps that elicit “oohs” and “aahs.” “Around 2008, John Mayer had a few of them, and he wanted to part with this particular Overdrive Special head. When he told me the price, I said, ‘That sounds ludicrous.’ He said, ‘How much is your most expensive guitar?’ It was three times the value of the amp. He said, ‘So that’s one guitar. What amp are you plugging all these expensive guitars into?’ I was like, ‘Sold. I guess when you look at it that way.’ It’s just glorious. It actually highlighted some limitations in some guitars I never noticed before.”
“It’s just glorious. It actually highlighted some limitations in some guitars I never noticed before.”
Keith also developed a relationship with the late Alexander Dumble. “We emailed back and forth, a lot of just life stuff and the beautifully eccentric stuff he was known for. His vocabulary was as interesting as his tubes and harmonic understanding. My one regret is that he invited me out to the ranch many times, and I was never able to go. Right now, my main amp is an Overdrive Reverb that also used to belong to John when he was doing the John Mayer Trio. I got it years later. And I have an Odyssey, which was Alexander’s personal bass amp that he built for himself. I sent all the details to him, and he said, ‘Yeah, that’s my amp.’”
The gearhead in Keith doesn’t even mind minutiae like picks and strings. “I’ve never held picks with the pointy bit hitting the string. I have custom picks that D’Addario makes for me. They have little grippy ridges like on Dunlops and Hercos, but I have that section just placed in one corner. I can use a little bit of it on the string, or I can flip it over. During the pandemic, I decided to go down a couple of string gauges. I was getting comfortable on .009s, and I thought, ‘Great. I’ve lightened up my playing.’ Then the very first gig, I was bending the crap out of them. So I went to .010s, except for a couple of guitars that are .011s.”
As with his best albums, High is song-oriented; thus, solos are short and economical. “Growing up, I listened to songs where the guitar was just in support of that song,” he reasons. “If the song needs a two-bar break, and then you want to hear the next vocal section, that’s what it needs. If it sounds like it needs a longer guitar section, then that’s what it needs. There’s even a track called ‘Love Is Hard’ that doesn’t have any solo. It’s the first thing I’ve ever recorded in my life where I literally don’t play one instrument. Eren Cannata co-wrote it [with Shane McAnally and Justin Tranter], and I really loved the demo with him playing all the instruments. I loved it so much I just went with his acoustic guitar. I’m that much in service of the song.”
Duane Denison of the Jesus Lizard, EGC Chessie in hands, coaxing some nasty tones from his Hiwatt.
The Jesus Lizard’s sixth album, Blue, served as the band’s final statement from the frontlines of noisy rock for the next 26 years. By the time of their dissolution in 1999, they’d earned a reputation for extreme performances chock full of hard-hitting, machine-like grooves delivered by bassist David Wm. Sims and, at their conclusion, drummer Mac McNeilly, at times aided and at other times punctured by the frontline of guitarist Duane Denison’s incisive, dissonant riffing, and presided over by the cantankerous howl of vocalist David Yow. In the years since, performative, thrilling bands such as Pissed Jeans, METZ, and Idles have built upon the Lizard’s musical foundation.
Denison has kept himself plenty busy over the last couple decades, forming the avant-rock supergroup Tomahawk—with vocalist Mike Patton, bassist Trevor Dunn (both from Mr. Bungle), and drummer John Stanier of Helmet—and alongside various other projects including Th’ Legendary Shack Shakers and Hank Williams III. The Jesus Lizard eventually reunited, but until now have only celebrated their catalog, never releasing new jams.
The Jesus Lizard, from left: bassist David Wm. Sims, singer David Yow, drummer Mac McNeilly, and guitarist Duane Denison.
Photo by Joshua Black Wilkins
Back in 2018, Denison, hanging in a hotel room with Yow, played a riff on his unplugged electric guitar that caught the singer’s ear. That song, called “West Side,” will remain unreleased for now, but Denison explains: “He said, ‘Wow, that’s really good. What is that?’ And I said, ‘It’s just some new thing. Why don’t we do an album?’” From those unassuming beginnings, the Jesus Lizard’s creative juices started flowing.
So, how does a band—especially one who so indelibly captured the ineffable energy of live rock performance—prepare to get a new record together 26 years after their last? Back in their earlier days, the members all lived together in a band house, collectively tending to the creative fire when inspiration struck. All these years later, they reside in different cities, so their process requires sending files back and forth and only meeting up for occasional demo sessions over the course of “three or four years.”
“When the time comes to get more in performance mode, I have a practice space. I go there by myself and crank it up. I turn that amp up and turn the metronome up and play loud.” —Duane Denison
the Jesus Lizard "Alexis Feels Sick"
Distance creates an obstacle to striking while the proverbial iron is hot, but Denison has a method to keep things energized: “Practice loud.” The guitarist professes the importance of practice, in general, and especially with a metronome. “We keep very detailed records of what the beats per minute of these songs are,” he explains. “To me, the way to do it is to run it to a Bluetooth speaker and crank it, and then crank your amp. I play a little at home, but when the time comes to get more in performance mode, I have a practice space. I go there by myself and crank it up. I turn that amp up and turn the metronome up and play loud.”
It’s a proven solution. On Rack—recorded at Patrick Carney’s Audio Eagle studio with producer Paul Allen—the band sound as vigorous as ever, proving they’ve not only remained in step with their younger selves, but they may have surpassed it with faders cranked. “Duane’s approach, both as a guitarist and writer, has an angular and menacing fingerprint that is his own unique style,” explains Allen. “The conviction in his playing that he is known for from his recordings in the ’80s and ’90s is still 100-percent intact and still driving full throttle today.”
“I try to be really, really precise,” he says. “I think we all do when it comes to the basic tracks, especially the rhythm parts. The band has always been this machine-like thing.” Together, they build a tension with Yow’s careening voice. “The vocals tend to be all over the place—in and out of tune, in and out of time,” he points out. “You’ve got this very free thing moving around in the foreground, and then you’ve got this very precise, detailed band playing behind it. That’s why it works.”
Before Rack, the Jesus Lizard hadn’t released a new record since 1998’s Blue.
Denison’s guitar also serves as the foreground foil to Yow’s unhinged raving, as on “Alexis Feels Sick,” where they form a demented harmony, or on the midnight creep of “What If,” where his vibrato-laden melodies bolster the singer’s unsettled, maniacal display. As precise as his riffs might be, his playing doesn’t stay strictly on the grid. On the slow, skulking “Armistice Day,” his percussive chording goes off the rails, giving way to a solo that slices that groove like a chef’s knife through warm butter as he reorganizes rock ’n’ roll histrionics into his own cut-up vocabulary.
“During recording sessions, his first solo takes are usually what we decide to keep,” explains Allen. “Listen to Duane’s guitar solos on Jack White’s ‘Morning, Noon, and Night,’ Tomahawk’s ‘Fatback,’ and ‘Grind’ off Rack. There’s a common ‘contained chaos’ thread among them that sounds like a harmonic Rubik’s cube that could only be solved by Duane.”
“Duane’s approach, both as a guitarist and writer, has an angular and menacing fingerprint that is his own unique style.” —Rack producer Paul Allen
To encapsulate just the right amount of intensity, “I don’t over practice everything,” the guitarist says. Instead, once he’s created a part, “I set it aside and don’t wear it out.” On Rack, it’s obvious not a single kilowatt of musical energy was lost in the rehearsal process.
Denison issues his noisy masterclass with assertive, overdriven tones supporting his dissonant voicings like barbed wire on top of an electric fence. The occasional application of slapback delay adds a threatening aura to his exacting riffage. His tones were just as carefully crafted as the parts he plays, and he relied mostly on his signature Electrical Guitar Company Chessie for the sessions, though a Fender Uptown Strat also appears, as well as a Taylor T5Z, which he chose for its “cleaner, hyper-articulated sound” on “Swan the Dog.” Though he’s been spotted at recent Jesus Lizard shows with a brand-new Powers Electric—he points out he played a demo model and says, “I just couldn’t let go of it,” so he ordered his own—that wasn’t until tracking was complete.
Duane Denison's Gear
Denison wields his Powers Electric at the Blue Room in Nashville last June.
Photo by Doug Coombe
Guitars
- Electrical Guitar Company Chessie
- Fender Uptown Strat
- Taylor T5Z
- Gibson ES-135
- Powers Electric
Amps
- Hiwatt Little J
- Hiwatt 2x12 cab with Fane F75 speakers
- Fender Super-Sonic combo
- Early ’60s Fender Bassman
- Marshall 1987X Plexi Reissue
- Victory Super Sheriff head
- Blackstar HT Stage 60—2 combos in stereo with Celestion Neo Creamback speakers and Mullard tubes
Effects
- Line 6 Helix
- Mantic Flex Pro
- TC Electronic G-Force
- Menatone Red Snapper
Strings and Picks
- Stringjoy Orbiters .0105 and .011 sets
- Dunlop celluloid white medium
- Sun Studios yellow picks
He ran through various amps—Marshalls, a Fender Bassman, two Fender Super-Sonic combos, and a Hiwatt Little J—at Audio Eagle. Live, if he’s not on backline gear, you’ll catch him mostly using 60-watt Blackstar HT Stage 60s loaded with Celestion Neo Creambacks. And while some boxes were stomped, he got most of his effects from a Line 6 Helix. “All of those sounds [in the Helix] are modeled on analog sounds, and you can tweak them endlessly,” he explains. “It’s just so practical and easy.”
The tools have only changed slightly since the band’s earlier days, when he favored Travis Beans and Hiwatts. Though he’s started to prefer higher gain sounds, Allen points out that “his guitar sound has always had teeth with a slightly bright sheen, and still does.”
“Honestly, I don’t think my tone has changed much over the past 30-something years,” Denison says. “I tend to favor a brighter, sharper sound with articulation. Someone sent me a video I had never seen of myself playing in the ’80s. I had a band called Cargo Cult in Austin, Texas. What struck me about it is it didn’t sound terribly different than what I sound like right now as far as the guitar sound and the approach. I don’t know what that tells you—I’m consistent?”
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The Jesus Lizard take off at Nashville’s Blue Room this past June with “Hide & Seek” from Rack.
