After two albums walking the line between heavy rock and metal, J.D. Cronise and Kyle Shutt of the Sword unabashedly indulge their taste for riffs and grooves with Warp Riders.
One of rock’s great traditions—and paradoxes—is the band that revisits its roots in order to evolve. That isn’t to say the Sword have become Dylan holing up in Woodstock to make John Wesley Harding. But Warp Riders, the third album by these heavy merchants from Austin, Texas, finds the Sword indulging a subtle, but distinctly Texas-flavored sense of groove and swing. This deep-seeded part of the band’s DNA is helping guitarists J.D. Cronise and Kyle Shutt break even further away from metal convention and carve out a unique domain among modern heavy rockers.
The Sword were never easily lumped in with the modern metal pack. In the seven years since the band came together, they’ve become one of the standard bearers for a stylistically diverse and loosely affiliated society of metal-influenced bands. Along with Witch, High on Fire, and Priestess, the Sword eschews many of metal’s more aggro, cliché, and consciously flash elements and instead look to Black Sabbath’s chugging riffery and Grand Funk’s and Thin Lizzy’s backbeat-driven grooves—as well as the more melodically raging sounds of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal—to create a more soulful metal/heavy-rock hybrid.
Warp Riders is a hard-hitting refinement of that heady brew. Wrapped around a sci-fi tale (in part about a planet with one hemisphere locked in perpetual darkness), the album also links the Sword to a narrative tradition that runs from the Who’s Tommy to Rush’s 2112 and even Hüsker Dü’s pop-hardcore classic, Zen Arcade. Warp Riders doesn’t disregard the band’s metal roots entirely—not by a long shot. But check out the hooks that propel “Tres Brujas” (Three Witches)—not to mention the nod to Texas’ favorite heavy boogie kings in the song’s title—and it’s pretty clear that the Sword may have been thinking as much about tumbleweeds and greasy ribs as whiplash thrashing and the black magic and mystic herb invoked in the lyrics.
And so it goes over the course of Warp Riders. Space trucking, vocal-based songs like the title track and “Night City” give way to full-throttle instrumentals like “Astraea’s Dream,” replete with 64th-note runs and pick-squealing savagery, before settling back into thunderous grooves propelled by Cronise and Shutt’s muscle-car riffery and the thumping bass and drums of Bryan Richie and Trivett Wingo.
Nods to Foghat and heavy boogie aren’t the only deviations from metal dogma that set Warp Riders apart. Lead singer Cronise’s rich tenor vocals steer clear of the affectations that define much of contemporary metal. And Cronise and Shutt often opt for a restrained and economical lead style that, while almost anathema to the metal and heavy rock gospels, tip the cap to Thin Lizzy’s Eric Bell and P-Funk’s Eddie Hazel.
On the day I interviewed the affable and articulate Cronise and Shutt, the band were fresh off a video shoot near Death Valley that left a few of the crew hospitalized with heat stroke. It doesn’t get much more heavy—or rock ’n’ roll—than that. And by all rights, the guitarists should have been exhausted. But they were still quite eager to talk about new directions, hidden influences, and why the next record may end up being death metal anyway.
Shutt, Cronise, and Wingo performing live at Waterloo Records and Video in Austin, Texas, August 23, 2010. Shutt is playing a Les Paul Custom, Cronise has his trusty 1979 Gibson Explorer II, and a Laney head driving an Orange 4x12 cab is visible in the background. Photo by John Carrico
Did you make a conscious decision to adhere to a story or make a concept album early in the writing process?
Cronise: Compared to most concept records that I know, it’s really more of a story record. Some concept albums are just about a related subject, in a general way. But this really tells a story.
Shutt: It’s almost a soundtrack to a story or a rock opera, really.
Were you challenged to expand your guitar textures to illuminate or tell the story?
Cronise: I stuck with what I’ve been using— and my Orange amps are a big part of that—but I tried to write rhythm parts that were a little simpler and would come across better in a live situation. But Kyle would play a lot of insane solos to counter that and fill things out.
Shutt: I think my natural growth as a musician and curiosity for wanting to get different sounds took care of that. I started using a Tube Screamer for all my leads and threw in a wah to give them a bit more variation. But I didn’t really feel the need to do that for the story’s sake. If it worked out that way, it’s just a nice coincidence. The lyrics have always been the last thing to come in a Sword song, and in the case of this album, the story that J.D. had in mind became the lyrics, so the music was pretty well formed before it evolved into the Warp Riders story.
How do you work out songs?
Shutt: Usually J.D. and I will just bring riffs to practice. We’re pretty tight at this point, so the song’s skeleton will usually come together in one or two practices and take shape from there. We spend a lot of time playing things over and over again until we get bored with the parts. Then they become new parts and the song evolves that way. The good stuff usually sticks. We keep working it until every little screw is tightened and everything is polished, and then you have a Sword song.
Shutt onstage with his green Paul, August 23, 2010. Photo by John Carrico
Some of the playing is quite economical on this album. Were you trying to create more space for the narrative?
Cronise: Maybe unconsciously. A simpler riff is easier to sing over and get the story over. So yeah, I was writing the songs to be more open. But there are still instrumentals, as well as a lot of aggressive riffs in those instrumental sections where the mood or the story called for something more high energy. I don’t really like to sing in an aggro fashion, so sometimes the instrumentals and the guitar playing have to carry that mood. Plus, sometimes I like to keep my head down and rock. That really was kind of the design—short, fast instrumentals and longer, more involved rock-song structures.
Shutt: When we started the band, I was 20 years old. So a lot of that [economy] is just getting better as a musician, getting more comfortable, and knowing when to go off or lay back. I’m less interested in getting too noodly—and I’ve really started to hate listening to a lot of that stuff anyway.
When it came to composing parts or songs, were you influenced by artists who don’t play heavy rock?
Cronise: Yeah, definitely. You can hear a ZZ Top influence in there. But there’s even some homage to the Meters hidden in there. We listen to all kinds of stuff and it seeps through.
You’re not afraid to upset metal purists and openly declare the influence of a New Orleans funk band. What inspires you to defy expectations?
Cronise: Well, I can’t imagine trying to write a third record that was a continuation of the first two. We’ve done that. The first two records don’t really sound like each other, either. They’re an evolution too. I’m not rejecting metal. Our next record could be all death metal. Who knows? But we tour a lot with bands like Clutch that are just really good hard-rock bands, and we relate to that—an approach to rock that’s really, really heavy, but isn’t quite so aggro.
Shutt: It definitely feels good to just make a great rock record. It had started to feel like I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard a kick-ass rock album, and that was in the back of my mind all the time. There was a time that bands were good and made good records without worrying what genre they were going to fit into or how they were going to be pigeonholed. The metal community can be pretty brutal—sitting around on message boards and criticizing anything that isn’t metal enough. And you get tired of all that. I don’t understand why something can’t just be heavy and different.
Cronise warps back to the ’70s with a B.C. Rich Mockingbird, a sweatband, and an Orange half-stack, August 23, 2010. Photo by John Carrico
When you recorded this album, what other players were you listening to?
Cronise: I was playing in a ZZ Top cover band over that time, and learning Gibbons’ stuff was a really good education. He’s one of the only players I feel comfortable trying to emulate in any way. Most professional players are beyond my ability, but I really relate to Gibbons—even though I can’t play anywhere near as well as him—and don’t mind trying to steal a few of his moves.
Shutt: I love Kiss and Ace Frehley’s playing. I love Jerry Cantrell. Pete Anderson [of Dwight Yoakam fame] is great. Redd Volkaert is just awesome too. He plays country stuff down in Austin all the time, and he’s just amazing. It’s crazy inspirational to watch that guy play. You just want to play better, you know? And there’s that sense of hearing the guitar in a new way every time you see him—which is huge when you’re just watching heavy players all the time. Watching Redd, you just get a feeling in the gut that you’re seeing a real guitar player. It kicks you in the ass.
So you relate more to feel or emotional players?
Cronise: I absolutely love watching shredders work, players who can make their guitar do anything. But I’m not a precision player, so the studio can be a headache, even when I like the sound I’m getting. Kyle makes up for that a little bit. But I definitely appreciate soul in a guitar player and it’s inspiring to hear where that takes people.
What rigs did you use in the studio?
Shutt: Pretty much the same rig as the last record, with the exception of the Tube Screamer and my wah. I just bought a ’68 reissue Les Paul Custom, which I played for most of my rhythm tracks, and a ’61 reissue SG I used for “Lawless Lands.” It has Rio Grande Barbeque Bucker pickups—the same pickups I have in my Guild S-100. J.D. was using a B.C. Rich Mockingbird with EMGs that I played for a couple of leads.
A lot of your tones are less jagged and metallic on this record.
Cronise: I recorded through two amps simultaneously—I plugged into an Electro- Harmonix Metal Muff distortion and then into an Orange OR80 reissue, and I also used a new Orange OR50 40th Anniversary head, set up a little bit dirty through a separate Orange cab. I used that rig for every track. It was a small victory for me because [producer] Matt Bayles was telling me about all the amps he was going to make me try before we went in, and I was like “Oh, man . . . I’m not sure.” I like my own stuff because I’m really comfortable with it. So I was a bit defensive about that. As soon as we mic’d up my rig and played for a bit, we didn’t move a thing. I didn’t dare say anything, though. As soon as I would have mentioned it—“Hey, we’re using my amp, huh?”—he probably would have tried to talk me into a Soldano or something. But I really like that sound. Those Oranges are definitely my voice.
Cronise: Some of those tones are a Hammond organ. But we used a lot of Leslie for guitar as well, which is a sound Matt is really fond of and we liked too.
Shutt: Matt definitely helped us with that one. I’m not sure it would have turned out as well if we’d produced it ourselves. He had the patience to fill that track out and give it some texture. He worked with us that way a lot.
Have your roles changed as guitarists over the years?
Cronise: It’s funny, Kyle used to never play solos at all and I’d play most of them—but he plays 60 to 70 percent of them now. But I don’t miss it. I used to play solos by default, because Kyle was really more into thrashing. But he’s totally come into his own and is a lot more interested in leads. Once he started playing that way, I got really into it, like, “Here, just take that one. And that one. And that one too!” It made things a lot easier for me—especially as I think more in terms of singing.
Did that free you up to develop the more melancholy, melodic side of your sound?
Cronise: Most music needs melody at some point to make it music, I think. And I probably feel that more strongly now. Maybe that’s why you hear more melody and less face pounding.
Shutt: I think that came out of really wanting to hear things like choruses you can sing along to—and thinking more about how a good rock song works.
Did you use any unconventional tunings on Warp Riders?
Cronise: We still tune down to C. But we wrote a lot less in that key, so they sound a little more punchy and as if they were written in standard tuning. Playing in those higher keys is definitely easier for my vocal range too. It means I strain myself a lot less and the live performances are better.
Where do you see heavy music in general going? And where would you like to see it go?
Cronise: I would like to see technology abused less. Bands are making records entirely from samples. That’s cool for some things and it can sound really good, but I think it strips the soul out of rock music. It comes across as really artificial to me. And I think you lose your ability to hear good tones. I’m not a Luddite by any means, but you really need feel to make most music—and certainly heavy rock.
To me, getting up and playing music in front of people is the ultimate. It’s been that way since people were living in caves, and when we’re living in caves again we’re going to want to have that ability [laughs]. It’s good to know how to work outside of technology.
Shutt: I just want to see more good bands. The way things are with the music business— how labels treat bands, how expensive it is to tour—it seems folks are now playing things pretty close to the vest. I don’t see many bands getting the breaks we did just six or seven years ago. Plus, the industry is changing so fast and there’s so much product— good bands just don’t always get a fair shake. And a lot of bands that do get a break get signed because they’ve jumped on some genre. And that comes at the expense of really good bands that just write great songs and rock, even though they’re still out there. I mean, we played with a band called Gentlemans Pistols recently that was just killer. They rock. They have tunes. And, man, they can sing. Everything I wish more bands were doing now!
The Sword's Gearbox
Kyle Shutt
Guitars
’70s Guild S-100 with Rio Grande Barbeque Buckers, Gibson Les Paul Custom ’68 Reissue, Gibson SG ’61 reissue with Rio Grande Barbeque Buckers
Amps
Orange Rockerverb 100, Orange 4x12 cabs
Effects
Ibanez Tube Screamer
J.D. Cronise
Guitars
B.C. Rich Mockingbird with EMG pickups, 1979 Gibson Explorer II
Amps
Orange OR80 Reissue, Orange OR50 40th Anniversary, Orange 4x12 cabs
Effects
Electro-Harmonix Metal Muff
Day 6 of Stompboxtober is here! Today’s prize? A pedal from Revv Amplification! Enter now and check back tomorrow for the next one!
Revv G3 Purple Channel Preamp/Overdrive/Distortion Pedal - Anniversary Edition
The Revv G3 revolutionized high gain pedals in 2018 with its tube-like response & tight, clear high gain tones. Suddenly the same boutique tones used by metal artists & producers worldwide were available to anyone in a compact pedal. Now the G3 returns with a new V2 circuit revision that raises the bar again.
Beauty and sweet sonority elevate a simple-to-use, streamlined acoustic and vocal amplifier.
An EQ curve that trades accuracy for warmth. Easy-to-learn, simple-to-use controls. It’s pretty!
Still exhibits some classic acoustic-amplification problems, like brash, unforgiving midrange if you’re not careful.
$1,199
Taylor Circa 74
taylorguitars.com
Save for a few notable (usually expensive) exceptions, acoustic amplifiers are rarely beautiful in a way that matches the intrinsic loveliness of an acoustic flattop. I’ve certainly seen companies try—usually by using brown-colored vinyl to convey … earthiness? Don’t get me wrong, a lot of these amps sound great and even look okay. But the bar for aesthetics, in my admittedly snotty opinion, remains rather low. So, my hat’s off to Taylor for clearing that bar so decisively and with such style. The Circa 74 is, indeed, a pretty piece of work that’s forgiving to work with, ease to use, streamlined, and sharp.
Boxing Beyond Utility
Any discussion of trees or wood with Bob Taylor is a gas, and highly instructive. He loves the stuff and has dabbled before in amplifier designs that made wood an integral feature, rather than just trim. But the Circa 74 is more than just an aesthetic exercise. Because the Taylor gang started to think in a relatively unorthodox way about acoustic sound amplification—eschewing the notion that flat frequency response is the only path to attractive acoustic tone.
I completely get this. I kind of hate flat-response speakers. I hate nice monitors. We used to have a joke at a studio I frequented about a pair of monitors that often made us feel angry and agitated. Except that they really did. Flat sound can be flat-out exhausting and lame. What brings me happiness is listening to Lee “Scratch” Perry—loud—on a lazy Sunday on my secondhand ’70s Klipsch speakers. One kind of listening is like staring at a sun-dappled summer garden gone to riot with flowers. The other sometimes feels like a stale cheese sandwich delivered by robot.
The idea that live acoustic music—and all its best, earthy nuances—can be successfully communicated via a system that imparts its own color is naturally at odds with acoustic culture’s ethos of organic-ness, authenticity, and directness. But where does purity end and begin in an amplified acoustic signal? An undersaddle pickup isn’t made of wood. A PA with flat-response speakers didn’t grow in a forest. So why not build an amp with color—the kind of color that makes listening to music a pleasure and not a chore?
To some extent, that question became the design brief that drove the evolution of the Circa 74. Not coincidentally, the Circa 74 feels as effortless to use as a familiar old hi-fi. It has none of the little buttons for phase correction that make me anxious every time I see one. There’s two channels: one with an XLR/1/4" combo input, which serves as the vocal channel if you are a singer; another with a 1/4" input for your instrument. Each channel consists of just five controls—level, bass, middle, and treble EQ, and a reverb. An 11th chickenhead knob just beneath the jewel lamp governs the master output. That’s it, if you don’t include the Bluetooth pairing button and 1/8" jacks for auxiliary sound sources and headphones. Power, by the way, is rated at 150 watts. That pours forth through a 10" speaker.Pretty in Practice
I don’t want to get carried away with the experiential and aesthetic aspects of the Circa 74. It’s an amplifier with a job to do, after all. But I had fun setting it up—finding a visually harmonious place among a few old black-panel Fender amps and tweed cabinets, where it looked very much at home, and in many respects equally timeless.
Plugging in a vocal mic and getting a balance with my guitar happened in what felt like 60 seconds. Better still, the sound that came from the Circa 74, including an exceedingly croaky, flu-addled human voice, sounded natural and un-abrasive. The Circa 74 isn’t beyond needing an assist. Getting the most accurate picture of a J-45 with a dual-source pickup meant using both the treble and midrange in the lower third of their range. Anything brighter sounded brash. A darker, all-mahogany 00, however, preferred a scooped EQ profile with the treble well into the middle of its range. You still have to do the work of overcoming classic amplification problems like extra-present high mids and boxiness. But the fixes come fast, easily, and intuitively. The sound may not suggest listening to an audiophile copy of Abbey Road, as some discussions of the amp would lead you to expect. But there is a cohesiveness, particularly in the low midrange, that does give it the feel of something mixed, even produced, but still quite organic.
The Verdict
Taylor got one thing right: The aesthetic appeal of the Circa 74 has a way of compelling you to play and sing. Well, actually, they got a bunch of things right. The EQ is responsive and makes it easy to achieve a warm representation of your acoustic, no matter what its tone signature. It’s also genuinely attractive. It’s not perfectly accurate. Instead, it’s rich in low-mid resonance and responsive to treble-frequency tweaks—lending a glow not a million miles away from a soothing home stereo. I think that approach to acoustic amplification is as valid as the quest for transparency. I’m excited to see how that thinking evolves, and how Taylor responds to their discoveries.
The evolution of Electro-Harmonix’s very first effect yields a powerful boost and equalization machine at a rock-bottom price.
A handy and versatile preamp/booster that goes well beyond the average basic booster’s range. Powerful EQ section.
Can sound a little harsh at more extreme EQ ranges.
$129
Electro-Harmonix LPB-3
ehx.com
Descended from the first Electro-Harmonix pedal ever released, the LPB-1 Linear Power Booster, the new LPB-3 has come a long way from the simple, one-knob unit in a folded-metal enclosure that plugged straight into your amplifier. Now living in Electro-Harmonix’s compact Nano chassis, the LPB-3 Linear Power Booster and EQ boasts six control knobs, two switches, and more gain than ever before.
If 3 Were 6
With six times the controls found on the 1 and 2 versions (if you discount the original’s on/off slider switch,) the LPB-3’s control complement offers pre-gain, boost, mid freq, bass, treble, and mid knobs, with a center detent on the latter three so you can find the midpoint easily. A mini-toggle labeled “max” selects between 20 dB and 33 dB of maximum gain, and another labeled “Q” flips the resonance of the mid EQ between high and low. Obviously, this represents a significant expansion of the LPB’s capabilities.
More than just a booster with a passive tone, the LPB-3 boasts a genuine active EQ stage plus parametric midrange section, comprising the two knobs with shaded legends, mid freq and mid level. The gain stages have also been reimagined to include a pre-gain stage before the EQ, which enables up to 20 dB of input gain. The boost stage that follows the EQ is essentially a level control with gain to allow for up to 33 dB of gain through the LPB-3 when the “max” mini toggle is set to 33dB
A slider switch accessible inside the pedal selects between buffered or true bypass for the hard-latch footswitch. An AC adapter is included, which supplies 200mA of DC at 9.6 volts to the center-negative power input, and EHX specifies that nothing supplying less than 120mA or more than 12 volts should be used. There’s no space for an internal battery.
Power-Boosted
The LPB-3 reveals boatloads of range that betters many linear boosts on the market. There’s lots of tone-shaping power here. Uncolored boost is available when you want it, and the preamp gain knob colors and fattens your signal as you crank it up—even before you tap into the massive flexibility in the EQ stage.
“The preamp gain knob colors and fattens your signal as you crank it up—even before you tap into the massive flexibility in the EQ stage.”
I found the two mid controls work best when used judiciously, and my guitars and amps preferred subtle changes pretty close to the midpoint on each. However, there are still tremendous variations in your mid boost (or scoop, for that matter) within just 15 or 20 percent range in either direction from the center detent. Pushing the boost and pre-gain too far, particularly with the 33 dB setting engaged, can lead to some harsh sounds, but they are easy to avoid and might even be desirable for some users that like to work at more creative extremes.
The Verdict
The new LPB-3 has much, much more range than its predecessors, providing flexible preamp, boost, and overdrive sounds that can be reshaped in significant ways via the powerful EQ. It gives precise tone-tuning flexibility to sticklers that like to match a guitar and amp to a song in a very precise way, but also opens up more radical paths for experimentalists. That it does all this at a $129 price is beyond reasonable.
Electro-Harmonix Lpb-3 Linear Power Booster & Eq Effect Pedal Silver And Blue
Intermediate
Intermediate
• Learn classic turnarounds.
• Add depth and interest to common progressions.
• Stretch out harmonically with hip substitutions.
Get back to center in musical and ear-catching ways.
A turnaround chord progression has one mission: It allows the music to continue seamlessly back to the beginning of the form while reinforcing the key center in a musically interesting way. Consider the last four measures of a 12-bar blues in F, where the bare-bones harmony would be C7-Bb7-F7-F7 (one chord per measure). With no turn around in the last two measures, you would go back to the top of the form, landing on another F7. That’s a lot of F7, both at the end of the form, and then again in the first four bars of the blues. Without a turnaround, you run the risk of obscuring the form of the song. It would be like writing a novel without using paragraphs or punctuation.
The most common turnaround is the I-VI-ii-V chord progression, which can be applied to the end of the blues and is frequently used when playing jazz standards. Our first four turnarounds are based on this chord progression. Furthermore, by using substitutions and chord quality changes, you get more mileage out of the I-VI-ii-V without changing the basic functionality of the turnaround itself. The second group of four turnarounds features unique progressions that have been borrowed from songs or were created from a theoretical idea.
In each example, I added extensions and alterations to each chord and stayed away from the pure R-3-5-7 voicings. This will give each chord sequence more color and interesting voice leading. Each turnaround has a companion solo line that reflects the sound of the changes. Shell voicings (root, 3rd, 7th) are played underneath so that the line carries the sound of the written chord changes, making it easier to hear the sound of the extensions and alterations. All examples are in the key of C. Let’s hit it.
The first turnaround is the tried and true I-VI-ii-V progression, played as Cmaj7-A7-Dm7-G7. Ex. 1 begins with C6/9, to A7(#5), to Dm9, to G7(#5), and resolves to Cmaj7(#11). By using these extensions and alterations, I get a smoother, mostly chromatic melodic line at the top of the chord progression.
Ex. 2 shows one possible line that you can create. As for scale choices, I used C major pentatonic over C6/9, A whole tone for A7(#5), D Dorian for Dm9, G whole tone for G7(#5), and C Lydian for Cmaj7(#11) to get a more modern sound.
The next turnaround is the iii-VI-ii-V progression, played as Em7-A7-Dm7-G7 where the Em7 is substituted for Cmaj7. The more elaborate version in Ex. 3 shows Em9 to A7(#9)/C#, to Dm6/9, to G9/B, resolving to Cmaj7(add6). A common way to substitute chords is to use the diatonic chord that is a 3rd above the written chord. So, to sub out the I chord (Cmaj7) you would use the iii chord (Em7). By spelling Cmaj7 = C-E-G-B and Em7 = E-G-B-D, you can see that these two chords have three notes in common, and will sound similar over the fundamental bass note, C. The dominant 7ths are in first inversion, but serve the same function while having a more interesting bass line.
The line in Ex. 4 uses E Dorian over Em9, A half-whole diminished over A7(#9)/C#, D Dorian over Dm6/9, G Mixolydian over G9/B, and C major pentatonic over Cmaj7(add6). The chord qualities we deal with most are major 7, dominant 7, and minor 7. A quality change is just that… changing the quality of the written chord to another one. You could take a major 7 and change it to a dominant 7, or even a minor 7. Hence the III-VI-II-V turnaround, where the III and the VI have both been changed to a dominant 7, and the basic changes would be E7-A7-D7-G7.
See Ex. 5, where E7(b9) moves to A7(#11), to D7(#9) to G7(#5) to Cmaj9. My scale choices for the line in Ex. 6 are E half-whole diminished over E7(#9), A Lydian Dominant for A7(#11), D half-whole diminished for D7(#9), G whole tone for G7(#5), and C Ionian for Cmaj9.
Ex. 7 is last example in the I-VI-ii-V category. Here, the VI and V are replaced with their tritone substitutes. Specifically, A7 is replaced with Eb7, and G7 is replaced with Db7, and the basic progression becomes Cmaj7-Eb7-Dm7-Db7. Instead of altering the tritone subs, I used a suspended 4th sound that helped to achieve a diatonic, step-wise melody in the top voice of the chord progression.
The usual scales can be found an Ex. 8, where are use a C major pentatonic over C6/9, Eb Mixolydian over Eb7sus4, D Dorian over Dm11, Db Mixolydian over Db7sus4, and once again, C Lydian over Cmaj7(#11). You might notice that the shapes created by the two Mixolydian modes look eerily similar to minor pentatonic shapes. That is by design, since a Bb minor pentatonic contains the notes of an Eb7sus4 chord. Similarly, you would use an Ab minor pentatonic for Db7sus4.
The next four turnarounds are not based on the I-VI-ii-V chord progression, but have been adapted from other songs or theoretical ideas. Ex. 9 is called the “Backdoor” turnaround, and uses a iv-bVII-I chord progression, played as Fm7-Bb7-Cmaj7. In order to keep the two-bar phrase intact, a full measure of C precedes the actual turnaround. I was able to compose a descending whole-step melodic line in the top voice by using Cmaj13 and Cadd9/E in the first bar, Fm6 and Ab/Bb in the second bar, and then resolving to G/C. The slash chords have a more open sound, and are being used as substitutes for the original changes. They have the same function, and they share notes with their full 7th chord counterparts.
Creating the line in Ex. 10 is no more complicated than the other examples since the function of the chords determines which mode or scale to use. The first measure employs the C Ionian mode over the two Cmaj chord sounds. F Dorian is used over Fm6 in bar two. Since Ab/Bb is a substitute for Bb7, I used Bb Mixolydian. In the last measure, C Ionian is used over the top of G/C.
The progression in Ex. 11 is the called the “Lady Bird” turnaround because it is lifted verbatim from the Tadd Dameron song of the same name. It is a I-bIII-bVI-bII chord progression usually played as Cmaj7-Eb7-Abmaj7-Db7. Depending on the recording or the book that you check out, there are slight variations in the last chord but Db7 seems to be the most used. Dressing up this progression, I started with a different G/C voicing, to Eb9(#11), to Eb/Ab (subbing for Abmaj7), to Db9(#11), resolving to C(add#11). In this example, the slash chords are functioning as major seventh chords.
As a result, my scale choices for the line in Ex. 12 are C Ionian over G/C, Eb Lydian Dominant over Eb9(#11), Ab Ionian over Eb/Ab, Db Lydian Dominant over Db9(#11), and C Lydian over C(add#11).
The progression in Ex. 13 is called an “equal interval” turnaround, where the interval between the chords is the same in each measure. Here, the interval is a descending major 3rd that creates a I-bVI-IV-bII sequence, played as Cmaj7-Abmaj7-Fmaj7-Dbmaj7, and will resolve a half-step down to Cmaj7 at the top of the form. Since the interval structure and chord type is the same in both measures, it’s easy to plane sets of voicings up or down the neck. I chose to plane up the neck by using G/C to Abmaj13, then C/F to Dbmaj13, resolving on Cmaj7/E.
The line in Ex. 14 was composed by using the notes of the triad for the slash chord and the Lydian mode for the maj13 chords. For G/C, the notes of the G triad (G-B-D) were used to get an angular line that moves to Ab Lydian over Abmaj13. In the next measure, C/F is represented by the notes of the C triad (C-E-G) along with the root note, F. Db Lydian was used over Dbmaj13, finally resolving to C Ionian over Cmaj7/E. Since this chord progression is not considered “functional” and all the chord sounds are essentially the same, you could use Lydian over each chord as a way to tie the sound of the line together. So, use C Lydian, Ab Lydian, F Lydian, Db Lydian, resolving back to C Lydian.
The last example is the “Radiohead” turnaround since it is based off the chord progression from their song “Creep.” This would be a I-III-IV-iv progression, and played Cmaj7-E7-Fmaj7-Fm7. Dressing this one up, I use a couple of voicings that had an hourglass shape, where close intervals were in the middle of the stack.
In Ex. 15 C6/9 moves to E7(#5), then to Fmaj13, to Fm6 and resolving to G/C. Another potential name for the Fmaj13 would be Fmaj7(add6) since the note D is within the first octave. This chord would function the same way, regardless of which name you used.
Soloing over this progression in Ex. 16, I used the C major pentatonic over C6/9, E whole tone over E7(#5), F Lydian over Fmaj13, and F Dorian over Fm6. Again, for G/C, the notes of the G triad were used with the note E, the 3rd of a Cmaj7 chord.
The main thing to remember about the I-VI-ii-V turnaround is that it is very adaptable. If you learn how to use extensions and alterations, chord substitutions, and quality changes, you can create some fairly unique chord progressions. It may seem like there are many different turnarounds, but they’re really just an adaptation of the basic I-VI-ii-V progression.
Regarding other types of turnarounds, see if you can steal a short chord progression from a pop tune and make it work. Or, experiment with other types of intervals that would move the chord changes further apart, or even closer together. Could you create a turnaround that uses all minor seventh chords? There are plenty of crazy ideas out there to work with, and if it sounds good to you, use it!