This month let’s take a look at our old friend distortion and his little brother overdrive. The ‘50s saw the beginning of an ongoing attempt to make amps louder and louder, and gentlemen like Mr. Jim Marshall and Mr. Leo Fender were happy to oblige, making bigger and bigger amps in this ongoing quest. Through the decade and into the next crowds at rock n’ roll shows rapidly increased, with things getting really out of hand at Shea Stadium in 1965, when four British boys played there, then again at a little, muddy outdoor gig a few years later, taking place about two hours north at Max Yasgur’s farm. From what I can see, two major concepts developed from these fortuitous events. First was the glorious sound of an overdriven amp. The second was the realization that amp placement had been almost an afterthought. Brian Lionman and I have covered amp placement in previous articles, but the executive summary is the typical backline is generally not the best place to put amplifiers. Dig around a little and check out the previous columns online to learn more.
But back to the subject at hand; as amps were turned up, the signals became more and more distorted. This was due to overdriving the preamp tubes into saturation. Ironically, at the time amp manufacturers were shooting for “distortion free” amplifiers, and although the larger Fender and Marshall offerings came close to that claim, few guitarists of the time could afford them, instead relying on smaller combo amps. Many of these diminutive tube monsters are highly sought after today and sound great without ripping your head off. A smaller, low-wattage amp will overdrive very quickly, giving you those distorted sounds easily. A 100-watt behemoth needs to be cranked to ear-bleeding levels to even begin to breakup unless it is equipped with a massive preamp stage and possibly a master volume circuit to keep the levels reasonable.
As a preamp tube is given more signal it begins to saturate. In this case, as the saturation point is reached, so is the tube’s maximum electron flow; it’s the tube’s way of saying, “I can’t give ‘er no more, Captain!” The resulting distortion is a function of overdrive. So, to achieve great tube distortion, all one has to do is introduce a big whopping signal into the preamp tubes. But this needs to be qualified; the cleaner the signal here, the better. Many amplifiers have two or three tube preamp stages to kick the signal up with an unfortunate side effect – noise.
As we have learned, overdrive causes distortion, but it can also be the source of unwanted noise. The introduction of gain into the discussion would now be appropriate. Gain is often incorrectly thought of as volume, and in some cases, an increase in gain will also have a resulting increase in volume. But gain must be viewed in relation to where it is in the circuit. In the majority of situations, gain is near the beginning of the signal path, found at the front of most pro audio gear and as part of the front stage of most amps. Gain must also be considered relative to the ability of the corresponding stage where it is applied. The capability of a preamp tube to lift signal is certainly smaller than a power tube, so an increase of the same amount of gain to a preamp tube may cause that tube to saturate, while the power tube may simply get louder.
Another aspect of gain comes into play with respect to a particular circuit’s power supply parameters. You may have heard the term “power rails.” This can be a somewhat technical issue, but in a nutshell, rails are the upper and lower limits of clean power to the circuit. Push the limits and you will be greeted with distortion. For tubes this overdrive usually has good results. With solid state circuits the resulting sound is usually undesirable. A general way to think of gain is to remember that you will only get louder up to a certain point, depending on the capability of the circuit, after which it will add to the amount of distortion, or pushing out of bounds. In comparison, volume continues to get louder and louder, regardless.
Now, what would happen if we were to increase the size of the signal coming into the power tubes, say through an effects loop? In this case things will get considerably louder. But what about power tube distortion? Power tubes pushed to their limit can be extremely musical – think of a cranked ’69 plexi or an AC30 all the way up. The power tubes are now at or near the point of distortion because they have been overdriven. Make sense?
The old adage of “tubes rule” still holds true, and we’ll cover more on this subject in the months to come, as well as looking at other ways to get distortion. We’ll also take a look at some of the pitfalls inherent in this quest and look at some their solutions. Until then, remember to pick that guitar up and play, and that if you can believe it, you can do it.
Gary "Sarge" Gistinger
President, Creation Audio Labs, Inc.
creationaudiolabs.com
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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?”
YouTube It
The Jesus Lizard take off at Nashville’s Blue Room this past June with “Hide & Seek” from Rack.
Keith Urban has spent decades traveling the world and topping global country-music charts, and on this episode of Wong Notes, the country-guitar hero tells host Cory Wong how he conquered the world—and what keeps him chasing new sounds on his 6-string via a new record, High, which releases on September 20.
Urban came up as guitarist and singer at the same time, and he details how his playing and singing have always worked as a duet in service of the song: “When I stop singing, [my guitar] wants to say something, and he says it in a different way.” Those traits served him well when he made his move into the American music industry, a story that begins in part with a fateful meeting with a 6-string banjo in a Nashville music store in 1995.
It’s a different world for working musicians now, and Urban weighs in on the state of radio, social media, and podcasts for modern guitarists, but he still believes in word-of-mouth over the algorithm when it comes to discovering exciting new players.
And in case you didn’t know, Keith Urban is a total gearhead. He shares his essential budget stomps and admits he’s a pedal hound, chasing new sounds week in and week out, but what role does new gear play in his routine? Urban puts it simply: “I’m not chasing tone, I’m pursuing inspiration.”
