Todd
Grubbs
Return of the Worm
Grubbworm Music
Readers email me all the time to ask if
they can send in an album for Media
Reviews consideration. I always encourage
them to do so, but I always include the
caveat that—with only a handful of slots
and the world being full of so many amazing
players in so many genres—competition
is pretty stiff. I listen to every album
that comes across my desk, no matter how
home-job-y the cover may look or how cliché
the song titles may sound (songs like
“Shred Planet” or “Dead Man Blues” are
pretty common, as are pics of every piece
of gear the player owns), but Todd Grubbs’
latest effort is a perfect example of why I
give everything a shot: The cover image
of a PRS guitar painted with an exploding
sun and an evil grub worm and the
interior shots of sour gummy worms and
an emaciated elephant are sort of par for
the guitar-centric-CD course, but spinning
the disc raised my eyebrows: Grubbs can
shred like crazy—Steve Vai’s influence is
evident on solos throughout, including on
“I Am Not a Commentator” (which also
has tasty harmonized parts reminiscent of
Time Odyssey-era Vinnie Moore)—but he
also has a knack for engaging soundscapes
(“5 After 4 in the Morning” begins with
relaxing crickets and cinematically panned
train and barking-dog clips, in addition to
ethereal chords awash in lush reverb) and
a penchant for quirky sound bites. Besides
being able to rip like noteworthy guitar
gods, Grubb also doles out convincing
funk, neck-pickup blues (“You Can Do
It”), and jam-band (“Number Station”)
vibes. Overall, the difference between
Grubbs and some of the other dexterous
players we get discs from is that he seems
to pay as much attention to tones, chord
progressions, phrasing, and injecting his
own personality into things as he does to
jaw-dropping licks. Kudos, Todd!
Return of the Worm
Grubbworm Music
Readers email me all the time to ask if
they can send in an album for Media
Reviews consideration. I always encourage
them to do so, but I always include the
caveat that—with only a handful of slots
and the world being full of so many amazing
players in so many genres—competition
is pretty stiff. I listen to every album
that comes across my desk, no matter how
home-job-y the cover may look or how cliché
the song titles may sound (songs like
“Shred Planet” or “Dead Man Blues” are
pretty common, as are pics of every piece
of gear the player owns), but Todd Grubbs’
latest effort is a perfect example of why I
give everything a shot: The cover image
of a PRS guitar painted with an exploding
sun and an evil grub worm and the
interior shots of sour gummy worms and
an emaciated elephant are sort of par for
the guitar-centric-CD course, but spinning
the disc raised my eyebrows: Grubbs can
shred like crazy—Steve Vai’s influence is
evident on solos throughout, including on
“I Am Not a Commentator” (which also
has tasty harmonized parts reminiscent of
Time Odyssey-era Vinnie Moore)—but he
also has a knack for engaging soundscapes
(“5 After 4 in the Morning” begins with
relaxing crickets and cinematically panned
train and barking-dog clips, in addition to
ethereal chords awash in lush reverb) and
a penchant for quirky sound bites. Besides
being able to rip like noteworthy guitar
gods, Grubb also doles out convincing
funk, neck-pickup blues (“You Can Do
It”), and jam-band (“Number Station”)
vibes. Overall, the difference between
Grubbs and some of the other dexterous
players we get discs from is that he seems
to pay as much attention to tones, chord
progressions, phrasing, and injecting his
own personality into things as he does to
jaw-dropping licks. Kudos, Todd!
