| Even if you don’t know them by name, Buckcherry is a band you’ve most likely caught yourself tapping a foot to – the rockers from L.A. have spent close to an entire decade on the charts with singles like, “Lit Up” and “Check Your Head”, and served as a refreshing, Les Paul-driven kick in the gut after emerging from the ashes of the late-‘90s pop music scene. When their third album, 15, dropped in April 2006, the hardest working band around earned comparisons to some of hard rock’s legends (read: AC/DC). The album’s first single, “Crazy Bitch,” was nominated for a Grammy for Best Hard Rock Performance, and that just hints at the raw, to-the-roots style of rock that Buckcherry cultivates on a daily basis. We caught up with guitarists Keith Nelson and Stevie D in the middle of their tour to talk about their unique sound and the gear that makes it happen. |
Your debut album came out in 1999. What was the musical environment like when you got the band together?
Keith: We really came up in the middle of rap rock and Lillith Fair. Swing music was also kind of happening at the time. Guys that slung Les Pauls low, and actually played them – that wasn’t really happening.
Was that discouraging at all for you guys?
Keith: When [lead singer] Josh and I got together, we talked about making just a straight-up rock band. I don’t think it was discouraging, but almost inspiring that we weren’t going to sound like everyone else.
In your reviews, it seems that an AC/DC reference is always dropped. How do you feel about that? Is that a big shadow to work under? Stevie: For me, it’s a huge compliment. I’m a huge fan of the Young brothers and the blues that they touch on with their records, so anytime there’s a reference drawn like that, I’m really happy.
Keith: I always enjoy a comparison to a band that doesn’t suck. There’s a lot of nuance to that AC/DC reference that I don’t think a lot of people like. I’m a huge fan, and I have been since I was old enough to hoist a vinyl record on the turntable. They’re one of the few bands that can make the same record over and over and totally get away with it.
So were they one of the first bands that got you on your way to rock stardom?
Keith: Absolutely. I can remember one of my earliest experiences as a kid that loved music, and always being into music, as listening to Back in Black out of an old wooden stereo in my parent’s living room. I remember thinking to myself, “that just sounds evil and dark.” And they didn’t need “666” all over the record cover – the sound of Back in Black is just heavy, without being tuned down to C. It was life changing, for sure.
I just listened to your latest album, 15, for the second time and I’m hearing all kinds of influences, from rock to blues to country. Where do you guys pull those sounds from?
Stevie: Well, we’re all big blues fans – Jimmy [Ashhurst, bass] is well-versed in country and he’s our onboard rock n’ roll historian. I’ve learned a lot from each guy in this band, as far as the history of rock. For me, guys like Howlin’ Wolf and Muddy Waters are tucked away in there. Keith has a lot of the chicken pickin’ and slide thing going on in his background. We try to cover a lot of that music, we’re trying to keep that going, and hopefully that’s what sets us apart from the other bands out there. Keith: I think we have so many things flying around the room, in terms of influences, in terms of country to funk and punk. If you listened to our iPods on the bus, you’ll hear all kinds of stuff. We’re really just fans of great music – for me, sounding bluesy isn’t a problem, the challenge is making it sound like it belongs in today’s music.
Stevie, you came on board a bit later in the band’s history. Do you have a role when you sit down to create songs?
Stevie: For me, it’s about creating space. It’s about not stepping on each other’s toes, and I think Keith feels the same way. Somebody will come into the room with a musical idea, and what we do is kind of let it play out. It’s like putting a skeleton in the room, and the job for the rest of us is to give that skeleton shape. A personality.
Do you feel like you guys are still evolving in your sound?
Keith: I think so. I think our first record was made so quickly, and the fact that we did it ourselves, and so I think our next records should be a bit deeper. Maybe we’ll spend three weeks in the studio instead of two.
I really dig the guitar tones coming off the album. How’d you get those sounds together?
Stevie: Keith has an arsenal of vintage amps, as well as our co-producer, Mike Plotnikoff. But what we used mostly on the record were Keith’s amps – for me, it was mostly a JTM45, but there were Plexis, Park amps … every vintage rock amp from the ‘60s and ‘70s was at our disposal.
Live, I’ve been using a Budda Superdrive 80. Open, loud and raw. It’s also got a great middle. In smaller rooms, I use the Superdrive 45 – they’re great. The Twinmaster is also a great combo amp, and it kicks the shit out of most other amps I’ve heard. I think they only made a limited number, and I managed to get my hands on one.
Keith: I have a pretty extensive gear collection, and I’ve been at it for a while. I usually try to go for the older stuff – I pretty much have every vintage Marshall, every vintage Vox you’ll need. But on 15, you’re hearing a lot of Super Lead 100s, a ‘66 JTM45, an old AC30 Top Boost and an armload of vintage guitars.
What guitars should we be listening for on your latest album?
Stevie: For me, I really connected with the JTM45. It was punchy, spanky and had a great bottom end. I coupled that with a ‘62 SG Junior. It’s been reworked with humbuckers, Gibson PAFs. I did leads with that same configuration and a Tube Screamer thrown in, or the Red Rooster pedal, for that wooly quality. I really like that wooly, ‘60s lead tone, like Hendrix. The clear ryhthms, on like a song like “Sorry,” I used a ‘62 reissue Strat.
Keith: On the album, I have an old Gretsch 6120 that I do a lot of the rhythm tracks with. I also have a ‘51 Esquire that’s on there a lot. Right before the record started, I went through a bit of a Strat phase, and picked up a ‘71 Strat that’s great. There’s also a lot of Les Paul Junior on the record.
So do you guys toy around with pedals or effects much? Or do you try to keep your signal clean? Stevie: Not so much – in the studio, there’s not a lot of pedal effects for my side – I’m on the right side with the rhythms, Keith is on the left side [in the stereo spectrum], so you won’t hear a lot of effects on me. Live, I use a Tube Screamer and a wah pedal. Just recently, I switched to Budda, because they’re making such great pedals. br>
I try to keep it simple like that, because I feel like I’m jumping around so much, I can get confused if I have to hit a couple pedals at one time. Less is more for me anymore. I had some more pedals in the chain, but I just kind of found that it was too much. br>
Keith: I’m not a real big pedal guy. The guys at Keeley make these true bypass loopers, and I’ve been using that because I don’t really want anything in the way. And we still use cables, we’re not wireless.
Is there a reason you haven’t gone wireless?
Keith: It sounds better. I toyed with wireless a few years back, and every time I’d have a problem with the wireless, I’d plug the cable back in and just say, “damn, that sounds great!” Mogami cable is really solid.
Wrapping up, you guys kind of represent a younger generation of guys playing true rock and roll. Is there any advice you’ve picked up for people listening and trying to get into it?
Stevie: A lot of the bands we play with at festivals, they’re not learning to play their instruments like they used to. There’s very little emphasis placed on songwriting. So if you want to stand out, really learn your instrument, and learn about tone. Try out different things, and listen to a lot of records. Listen, listen, listen.
Keith: There are really two sides to it. On one side, we see these guys playing with tracks behind them. Really concentrate on being great players and performers, so you don’t have to rely on tracks behind you to pull it all off.
The other side is that this is all a business, so you need to educate yourself on how all the parts work together, otherwise it will be a long road.
| Stevie’s Gearbox When Stevie plugs in to rock out, here’s what he’s grabbing.
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Electro-Harmonix Hell Melter Distortion Pedal
With its take on the cult-classic, chainsaw distortion pedal, the EHX Hell Melter takes distortion to its extremes. The Hell Melter features expanded controls and tonal capabilities, allowing the already in-your-face sound of the pedal to broaden by switching to more open clipping options and boosting the internal voltage for increased headroom, less compression, and more attack.
Originally designed as the ultimate in high-gain tone, this world-famous distortion circuit is known for the death metal sounds of Sweden’s Entombed and the shoegaze wash of My Bloody Valentine. It’s even found a home in the rig of David Gilmour!
The EHX Hell Melter’s expanded control set includes Gain and Level controls, and a powerful active EQ featuring with parametric mids for improved versatility. The Dry level control allows for blending your input signal for improved low-end when used with a bass or even blending in other distorted tones.
Boost Footswitch engages an input gain boost and volume boost which is internally adjustable. The Normal/Burn switch toggles between the classic chainsaw sound and the more open clipping option.
For the first time in the band’s history, the Dawes lineup for Oh Brother consisted of just Griffin and Taylor Goldsmith (left and right).
Goldsmith’s lyrics spoke to me the loudest, with lines like “Well, you can judge the whole world on the sparkle that you think it lacks / Yes, you can stare into the abyss, but it’s starin’ right back” (a casual Nietzsche paraphrase); and “Oh, the snowfall this time of year / It’s not what Birmingham is used to / I get the feeling that I brought it here / And now I’m taking it away.” The way his words painted a portrait of the sincere, sentimental man behind them, along with his cozy, unassuming guitar work and the band’s four-part harmonies, had me hooked.
Nothing Is Wrong and Stories Don’t End came next, and I happily gobbled up more folksy fodder in tracks like “If I Wanted,” “Most People,” and “From a Window Seat.” But 2015’s All Your Favorite Bands, which debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Folk Albumschart, didn’t land with me, and by the time 2016’s We’re All Gonna Die was released, it was clear that Goldsmith had shifted thematically in his writing. A friend drew a thoughtful Warren Zevon comparison to the single, “When the Tequila Runs Out”—a commentary on vapid, conceited, American-socialite party culture—but it still didn’t really do it for me. I fell off the Dawes train a bit, and became somewhat oblivious to their three full-lengths that followed.
Oh Brotheris Goldsmith’s latest addition to the Dawes songbook, and I’m grateful to say that it’s brought me back. After having done some catching up, I’d posit that it’s the second work in the third act, or fall season, of his songwriting—where 2022’s Misadventures of Doomscrollercracked open the door, Oh Brother swings it wide. And it doesn’t have much more than Dawes’ meat and potatoes, per se, in common with acts one or two. Some moodiness has stayed—as well as societal disgruntlement and the arrangement elements that first had me intoxicated. But then there’s the 7/4 section in the middle of “Front Row Seat”; the gently unwinding, quiet, intimate jazz-club feel of “Surprise!”; the experimentally percussive, soft-spoken “Enough Already”; and the unexpected, dare I say, Danny Elfman-esque harmonic twists and turns in the closing track, “Hilarity Ensues.”
The main engine behind Dawes, the Goldsmith brothers are both native “Angelinos,” having been born and raised in the L.A. area. Taylor is still proud to call the city his home.
Photo by Jon Chu
“I have this working hypothesis that who you are as a songwriter through the years is pretty close to who you are in a dinner conversation,” Goldsmith tells me in an interview, as I ask him about that thematic shift. “When I was 23, if I was invited to dinner with grownups [laughs], or just friends or whatever, and they say, ‘How you doin’, Taylor?’ I probably wouldn’t think twice to be like, ‘I’m not that good. There’s this girl, and … I don’t know where things are at—can I share this with you? Is that okay?’ I would just go in in a way that’s fairly indiscreet! And I’m grateful to that version of me, especially as a writer, because that’s what I wanted to hear, so that’s what I was making at the time.
“But then as I got older, it became, ‘Oh, maybe that’s not an appropriate way to answer the question of how I’m doing.’ Or, ‘Maybe I’ve spent enough years thinking about me! What does it feel like to turn the lens around?’” he continues, naming Elvis Costello and Paul Simon as inspirations along the way through that self-evolution. “Also, trying to be mindful of—I had strengths then that I don’t have now, but I have strengths now that I didn’t have then. And now it’s time to celebrate those. Even in just a physical way, like hearing Frank Zappa talking about how his agility as a guitar player was waning as he got older. It’s like, that just means that you showcase different aspects of your skills.
“I am a changing person. It would be weird if I was still writing the same way I was when I was 23. There would probably be some weird implications there as to who I’d be becoming as a human [laughs].”
Taylor Goldsmith considers Oh Brother, the ninth full-length in Dawes’ catalog, to be the beginning of a new phase of Dawes, containing some of his most unfiltered, unedited songwriting.
Since its inception, the engine behind Dawes has been the brothers Goldsmith, with Taylor on guitar and vocals and Griffin on drums and sometimes vocal harmonies. But they’ve always had consistent backup. For the first several years, that was Wylie Gelber on bass and Tay Strathairn on keyboards. On We’re All Gonna Die, Lee Pardini replaced Strathairn and has been with the band since. Oh Brother, however, marks the departure of Gelber and Pardini.
“We were like, ‘Wow, this is an intense time; this is a vulnerable time,’” remarks Goldsmith, who says that their parting was supportive and loving, but still rocked him and Griffin. “You get a glimpse of your vulnerability in a way that you haven’t felt in a long time when things are just up and running. For a second there, we’re like, ‘We’re getting a little rattled—how do we survive this?’”
They decided to pair up with producer Mike Viola, a close family friend, who has also worked with Mandy Moore—Taylor’s spouse—along with Panic! At the Disco, Andrew Bird, and Jenny Lewis. “[We knew that] he understands all of the parameters of that raw state. And, you know, I always show Mike my songs, so he was aware of what we had cookin’,” says Goldsmith.
Griffin stayed behind the kit, but Taylor took over on bass and keys, the latter of which he has more experience with than he’s displayed on past releases. “We’ve made records where it’s very tempting to appeal to your strengths, where it’s like, ‘Oh, I know how to do this, I’m just gonna nail it,’” he says. “Then there’s records that we make where we really push ourselves into territories where we aren’t comfortable. That contributed to [Misadventures of Doomscroller] feeling like a living, breathing thing—very reactive, very urgent, very aware. We were paying very close attention. And I would say the same goes for this.”
That new terrain, says Goldsmith, “forced us to react to each other and react to the music in new ways, and all of a sudden, we’re exploring new corners of what we do. I’m really excited in that sense, because it’s like this is the first album of a new phase.”
“That forced us to react to each other and react to the music in new ways, and all of a sudden, we’re exploring new corners of what we do.”
In proper folk (or even folk-rock) tradition, the music of Dawes isn’t exactly riddled with guitar solos, but that’s not to say that Goldsmith doesn’t show off his chops when the timing is right. Just listen to the languid, fluent lick on “Surprise!”, the shamelessly prog-inspired riff in the bridge of “Front Row Seat,” and the tactful, articulate line that threads through “Enough Already.” Goldsmith has a strong, individual sense of phrasing, where his improvised melodies can be just as biting as his catalog’s occasional lyrical jabs at presumably toxic ex-girlfriends, and just as melancholy as his self-reflective metaphors, all the while without drawing too much attention to himself over the song.
Of course, most of our conversation revolves around songwriting, as that’s the craft that’s the truest and closest to his identity. “There’s an openness, a goofiness—I even struggle to say it now, but—an earnestness that goes along with who I am, not only as a writer but as a person,” Goldsmith elaborates. “And I think it’s important that those two things reflect one another. ’Cause when you meet someone and they don’t, I get a little bit weirded out, like, ‘What have I been listening to? Are you lying to me?’” he says with a smile.
Taylor Goldsmith's Gear
Pictured here performing live in 2014, Taylor Goldsmith has been the primary songwriter for all of Dawes' records, beginning with 2009’s North Hills.
Photo by Tim Bugbee/Tinnitus Photography
Guitars
- Fender Telecaster
- Gibson ES-345
- Radocaster (made by Wylie Gelber)
Amps
- ’64 Fender Deluxe
- Matchless Laurel Canyon
Effects
- 29 Pedals EUNA
- Jackson Audio Bloom
- Ibanez Tube Screamer with Keeley mod
- Vintage Boss Chorus
- Vintage Boss VB-2 Vibrato
- Strymon Flint
- Strymon El Capistan
Strings
- Ernie Ball .010s
In Goldsmith’s songwriting process, he explains that he’s learned to lean away from the inclination towards perfectionism. Paraphrasing something he heard Father John Misty share about Leonard Cohen, he says, “People think you’re cultivating these songs, or, ‘I wouldn’t deign to write something that’s beneath me,’ but the reality is, ‘I’m a rat, and I’ll take whatever I can possibly get, and then I’ll just try to get the best of it.’
“Ever since Misadventures of Doomscroller,” he adds, “I’ve enjoyed this quality of, rather than try to be a minimalist, I want to be a maximalist. I want to see how much a song can handle.” For the songs on Oh Brother, that meant that he decided to continue adding “more observations within the universe” of “Surprise!”, ultimately writing six verses. A similar approach to “King of the Never-Wills,” a ballad about a character suffering from alcoholism, resulted in four verses.
“The economy of songwriting that we’re all taught would buck that,” says Goldsmith. “It would insist that I only keep the very best and shed something that isn’t as good. But I’m not going to think economically. I’m not going to think, ‘Is this self-indulgent?’
Goldsmith’s songwriting has shifted thematically over the years, from more personal, introspective expression to more social commentary and, at times, even satire, in songs like We’re All Gonna Die’s “When the Tequila Runs Out.”
Photo by Mike White
“I don’t abide that term being applied to music. Because if there’s a concern about self-indulgence, then you’d have to dismiss all of jazz. All of it. You’d have to dismiss so many of my most favorite songs. Because in a weird way, I feel like that’s the whole point—self-indulgence. And then obviously relating to someone else, to another human being.” (He elaborates that, if Bob Dylan had trimmed back any of the verses on “Desolation Row,” it would have deprived him of the unique experience it creates for him when he listens to it.)
One of the joys of speaking with Goldsmith is just listening to his thought processes. When I ask him a question, he seems compelled to share every backstory to every detail that’s going through his head, in an effort to both do his insights justice and to generously provide me with the most complete answer. That makes him a bit verbose, but not in a bad way, because he never rambles. There is an endpoint to his thoughts. When he’s done, however, it takes me a second to realize that it’s then my turn to speak.
To his point on artistic self-indulgence, I offer that there’s no need for artists to feel “icky” about self-promotion—that to promote your art is to celebrate it, and to create a shared experience with your audience.
“I hear what you’re saying loud and clear; I couldn’t agree more,” Goldsmith replies. “But I also try to be mindful of this when I’m writing, like if I’m going to drag you through the mud of, ‘She left today, she’s not coming back, I’m a piece of shit, what’s wrong with me, the end’.... That might be relatable, that might evoke a response, but I don’t know if that’s necessarily helpful … other than dragging someone else through the shit with me.
“In a weird way, I feel like that’s the whole point—self-indulgence. And then obviously relating to someone else, to another human being.”
“So, if I’m going to share, I want there to be something to offer, something that feels like: ‘Here’s a path that’s helped me through this, or here’s an observation that has changed how I see this particular experience.’ It’s so hard to delineate between the two, but I feel like there is a difference.”
Naming the opening track “Mister Los Angeles,” “King of the Never-Wills,” and even the title track to his 2015 chart-topper, “All Your Favorite Bands,” he remarks, “I wouldn’t call these songs ‘cool.’ Like, when I hear what cool music is, I wouldn’t put those songs next to them [laughs]. But maybe this record was my strongest dose of just letting me be me, and recognizing what that essence is rather than trying to force out certain aspects of who I am, and force in certain aspects of what I’m not. I think a big part of writing these songs was just self-acceptance,” he concludes, laughing, “and just a whole lot of fishing.”
YouTube It
Led by Goldsmith, Dawes infuses more rock power into their folk sound live at the Los Angeles Ace Hotel in 2023.
