A deep dive into faux amps, futuristic setups, and how to use modern technology’s powers for good.
The jump between analog and digital gear has never been more manageable. It no longer takes a rack full of outboard gear with a six-figure price tag to help realize not only the tone you have in your head, but the expansive workflows that started to pop up in the early ’80s. We’re now about a decade into the modern era of digital modelers and profilers and it seems like the technology has finally come into its own. “This is really the first time in a while where you can have bar bands playing the exactsame gear as stadium acts,” says Cooper Carter, a Fractal Audio Systems production consultant who has done sound design and rig building for Neal Schon, James Valentine, John Petrucci, and others.
That democratization of pro-level workflows has opened new and exciting paths for guitarists to explore. Barry O’ Neal, who is the chief puzzle solver for Xact Tone Solutions in Nashville, has built rigs for some of the biggest acts in the world, including Taylor Swift, Bon Iver, and Peter Frampton. “In the beginning, all gear was pro gear, to an extent,” he says. “There is a line of demarcation between pro-grade gear and consumer gear. And there used to be a lot clustered around that line. Now, they are all either way above or way below.”
At this point, the difference between modeling technology mainly has to do with features. Do you need more inputs and outputs? Is direct recording via USB a priority? Are there certain one-off effects or sounds you need on a gig? All the top-level units have a somewhat similar set of core features, but each one also branches off into more specialized realms. Let’s dig in and discuss choosing a modeler, break down some myths that surround these units, and help novice users get just a little bit more out of their chosen processor.
Which One is For You?
Kemper Profiler Stage
Ah, the eternal question—as a guitar journalist, this might be one of the most frequent questions I get asked. There are many ways to tackle this. One element of this puzzle that I’ll leave for others to debate is how these different units compare in terms of tone. From my perspective, you need to figure out what you’re missing in your current setup and how a digital rig would make your life easier. As we’ve seen in literally hundreds of Rig Rundowns over the years, these units have passed the test both onstage and in the studio. Even when you have Dumbles and vintage high-powered tweed Twins at your disposal, having a modeler in the rack can still be useful. (Hi, Keith Urban!) “Go online and watch videos on how you program and use the unit. If those don't make immediate and visceral sense to you, bail,” says O’Neal.
Fractal Audio FM9
I usually point people to two different camps: the all-in-one units (Line 6 Helix, Fractal Axe-Fx, Neural DSP Quad Cortex, Kemper, etc.) or the smaller stomp-sized boxes that have a narrower focus on amp, cab, and mic emulation (Strymon Iridium, Walrus ACS1, or the Boss IR-200). This is an important fork in the road because both types of units offer their own solutions. Plus, price can vary widely. Although there will be some overlap, this article will focus mostly on the all-in-one units. However, the stomp-sized amp emulators have their place. Simply place one at the end of your board for an easy analog-digital hybrid setup or keep one within arm’s reach in case a tube goes out on the gig.
Neural DSP Quad Cortex
One of the bigger conceptual things to think about when choosing a modeler is the difference between an open ecosystem and a closed one. The Line 6 Helix and Fractal Axe-Fx units (and their various spinoffs) are what I consider closed systems, because you can’t create an entirely new amp model within their space. (The Axe-Fx III has an incredibly powerful ToneMatch feature, but that’s more based on deep customization of a pre-existing amp.) Both offer regular firmware updates with new amps, cabs, effects, and features. On the other side of things, you have Kemper and Neural’s Quad Cortex, which allow you to “profile” or“capture” digital versions of your amps and effects. This is really the defining feature of these units. With a simple recording setup, you can get extremely accurate versions of your prized—and fragile—tube amp and leave the original at home. The one caveat is that the quality of the result is only as good as your engineering skills, which is why a cottage industry of purchasable, professionally made profiles has popped up.
Start With What You Know
A piece of advice that I always recommend to anyone getting into modeling is to create your own presets. Yeah, it might take more time than just tweaking a factory or purchased preset, but in the end, you will learn much more about the features of your unit, as well as how the various elements of your signal chain interact with each other. For example, let’s say you’re a country-rock player who prefers a Vox-style amp.
With a simple recording setup, you can get extremely accurate versions your prized—and fragile—tube amp and leave the original at home.
Put aside the bells and whistles for the moment and focus on how to create a good base tone. Carter suggests a similar route: “Start simple with just an amp and cab. Get used to the interface and GUI [graphical user interface]. If you’re a Bassman player, it doesn’t make sense to just jump in and start tweaking a Mesa/Boogie.” Depending on your modeler, the various parameters for amps and effects might be different—or nonexistent—but at least you will have a point of reference before jumping into the deep end with experimentation.
Once you have the basics down, a prime place to start branching out is in routing. Gone are the days of needing a huge amount of rack gear to experiment with pre- and post-effects, parallel solutions, and MIDI. With a virtual playground, you can emulate nearly any imaginable signal flow and even design some that would be impossible in the analog realm.
Fig. 1
Most of the digital “boards” that guitarist and PG contributor Joe Gore designs are subversive, inspiring, and far from the mainstream. (He offers 13 different meticulously crafted Helix presets through the Line 6 marketplace.) Gore’s presets taught me invaluable lessons about using expression pedals when I tried to reverse-engineer them. Each scene or snapshot change has up to 60 different parameter changes, which alone is quite the feat. I would highly recommend his Blood & Pasta and Psych presets—they are simply mind-blowingly creative. In Fig. 1 you can see an example of how extensive this can get. Don’t be afraid to push the limits and reverse-engineer something from a more complicated setup.
“This is really the first time in a while where you can have bar bands playing the exact same gear as stadium acts.” —Cooper Carter
If you’re at least considering a digital unit, you likely don’t get the cold sweats when you think about learning your way around various menus and options. Each of us has our own specific tolerance of those, but in my experience the better you learn the ins and outs of your gear, the better you will sound. Although these are very, very tech-heavy units, you can get incredible results with simple setups. Going “digital” isn’t an all-or-nothing proposal. If you really dig your amp or pedals you can easily integrate those with any digital modeler. Let’s look at a few options that allow you to hold on to a bit of the analog.
4 Cables or 7?
Fig. 2
The easiest way to combine digital control with analog pedals is to take advantage of the effects loop. Here’s a scenario: You want to use your modeler simply for effects alongside your trusty tube amp, but you don’t want to run everything in front. This is where the “4-Cable Method” comes in. In this arrangement, you’re able to run all your compression and drive pedals directly into the preamp and move all your modulation and time-based effects to after the preamp. In Fig. 2 you can see a diagram of how to hook everything up. Here are the steps:
- Arrange you signal chain in your modeler so that the effects loop insert is at the point where everything before it will go in front of your amp and everything after will go directly to the power amp.
- Connect your guitar to the input of your modeler (cable 1).
- Connect the effects send of your modeler to the input of your amp (cable 2).
- Connect the effects send of your amp to the effects return of your modeler (cable 3).
- Connect the output of your modeler to the effects return of your amp (cable 4).
This results in a hybrid setup that allows an incredible amount of flexibility with routing your digital effects within a traditional tube amp. (One tip: Check the global settings on your unit and make sure the effects loop is set to instrument level rather than line level.) Not sure if a certain effect works better before or after the preamp? Simply move them around in your modeler.
In Clip 1 you can hear what it sounds like with distortion, delay, and reverb running directly into the front of the amp.
And in Clip 2 I used the 4-cable method to clean things up.
Fig. 3
But what if you’re running a stereo rig? That’s where the 7-cable method comes in. There are a few more things you’ll need (other than cables) to pull this off. First, your modeler must have two effects loops and dual outputs. Let’s pretend that the 4-cable setup described above is for amp #1 via output 1 of your modeler (Fig. 3). Now, follow the steps below for the second amp:
- Connect effects send 2 from your modeler to the input of amp #2 (cable 5).
- Connect the effects send from amp #2 to effects return 2 of the modeler (cable 6).
- Connect the main right output of the modeler to the effects return of amp #2 (cable 7).
It always helps me to sketch out how I envision everything working before diving into editing a patch.
The signal flow in the modeler will also become a bit more complicated. It always helps me to sketch out how I envision everything working before diving into editing a patch. If you think of these two as simply two parallel signal paths that come from a single source, it helps to keep everything straight.
Monitor This!
Fig. 4
On major tours, there’s an army of talented engineers that help craft the best sound possible, both onstage and out front. For most of us, that’s a real luxury. One routing setup that Carter suggests helps with both your monitor mix and getting a bit of that amp-in-the-room feel onstage. “The most practical application would be to run your fully processed signal to FOH and then a separate signal to a powered cabinet on stage,” he says. “From there, you can insert a split before the delay and reverb and feed that to your monitor or in-ears.” In Fig. 4 you can see an example of how to feed FOH, an onstage cabinet, and your in-ears. Tweaking the level of delay and reverb in your ears separately from FOH will allow you to better shape the reverb for the room without affecting what you’re hearing. “Whatever sounds best to you will make you play better,” says Carter.
Impulses Galore
One of the easiest ways to level up the realism of a preset is to use an impulse response (IR). This is where the all-in-one units and smaller stomp-sized modelers cross paths. Remember, the speaker and cab configuration in a traditional setup is basically an EQ—different cabinets and speakers treat the signal differently and therefore match better with certain amps and guitars. An impulse response is a digital version of everything after the amp, which would include the mic pre, mic, cab, and speaker. With a digital modeler, these would run in place of a cabinet block and before any time-based effects or reverbs.
Creating an impulse response isn’t too complicated. There is a wealth of tutorial videos on YouTube detailing the process, and some DAWs come with a built-in IR creator. In short, you sample ambient sound around a core tone and then the modeler uses that to treat your guitar tone.
In Clip 3 you can hear a Vox-style amp with a closed 2x12 cab IR.
And in Clip 4 you can hear that exact same tone with a larger 4x12 cab IR.
There are a host of ways to use IRs in your signal chain, but often it can be a somewhat paralyzing notion to try and wade through dozens of options to find the right one. Most IR packs come with loads of different WAV files that that can be separated by either cab, mic, or, for acoustic settings, guitar type. One way to quickly parse through them would be to set up a simple template with your preferred signal chain and then insert a split after the amp block to two separate IR blocks. Then map those IR blocks to different footswitches. This allows you to A/B a pair of IRs without taking your hands off the guitar.
Acoustic amplification can be a tougher road. Brian Wahl and Bradford Mitchell are behind Worship Tutorials, a website that offers various presets and IRs for many types of modelers including Helix, Kemper, and Axe-Fx. A few years ago, Wahl purchased a few acoustic IRs but never really connected with them. So, he decided to make his own. “One of the big myths I see is that people think you need to get an IR pack that closely matches their guitar type. That’s not true,” he says. “It’s like thinking you can’t put Telecaster pickups in a different guitar,” adds Mitchell. The purpose of the IR is to help shape the tone of your instrument in ways that EQ can’t quite reach since there’s a bit of reverb and possibly delay packed into each one. Another myth that Wahl hears is that if you have a really good pickup system, you don’t need an IR. “My response to that is we’ve found that guitars with higher-end pickup systems actually benefit more by using an IR,” he says.
“One of the big myths I see is that people think you need to get an IR pack that closely matches their guitar type. That’s not true.” —Brian Wahl
The process for Wahl and Mitchell starts with making a high-quality recording of the miked acoustic. Then, they will match the recording across six different pickup systems and 10 different mic options. Once you factor in different sample rates and WAV lengths, the process can become quite intense. “When deciding which IR is for you, I typically recommend staring with a mic you’re familiar with and cycle through the different pickup options,” says Wahl. Trust your ears at this point in the process above all else. “Most of them actually might sound bad,” he adds, “but once the correct IR clicks, you’ll know it.”
Talking with Wahl and Mitchell inspired me to dig up a few acoustic IRs and test his theory. I plugged my Córdoba Acero straight into my HX Stomp and recorded into Logic Pro X via USB.
In Clip 5 you can hear my completely unaffected signal. The Acero’s pickup system combines a piezo and under-saddle mic, so I kept the blend at noon. It’s not a bad tone, but enough of the piezo quack is coming through to warrant a better solution.
For Clip 6 I loaded up an AKG C12 dreadnought IR. The result sounds better. There’s more air around the sound, but the high end is a bit thin.
Clip 7 is an IR from the same mic, but I chose a different pickup option. It’s not as good as Clip 6, but still has that ambience that I dig.
Finally, we have Clip 8, which is a combo of a piezo pickup and a Neumann U67-style microphone. It’s kind of gross and thin but could serve a purpose in the right mix. I think recording examples like this is essential to finding the right IR match. Taking an objective listen will help you decide between options that could be quite subtle.
State of Expression
One of the most fun—and interactive—parts of using a modeler is exploring the absolutely endless options that expression pedals can offer. In most units, nearly any parameter you can think of can be assigned to an expression pedal for real-time tweaking. One player who really opened my eyes to what’s possible with expression pedals is John Nathan Cordy, a British guitarist who specializes in jazz-fusion styles and has a YouTube channel that explores most of the modern modelers. One of his favorite expression pedal tricks was inspired by the ambient pads Eric Johnson would play on the intro to live versions of “Cliffs of Dover.”
Fig. 5 shows the diagram, but here’s how you set it up:
- Arrange a basic signal path and then add a parallel path.
- Place a digital delay on the parallel path. Digital works better because with analog emulations you can dip into self-oscillation, and we don’t want that.
- Within the delay, assign your expression pedal to the feedback control so that when the heel is down you’re at about 10 percent and toe down is 100 percent.
- Put a volume pedal block before the delay and assign the expression pedal so when the toe is down it mutes the input.
- Add reverb to taste after the delay.
- Connect the parallel path back to the main path after the amp and cab block.
I’d recommend saving this as a template and then experimenting with loopers, compression, multiple outputs, and more.
Next Steps
Ultimately, the better you know any piece of gear, the better it will sound. Once you find a modeler that you connect with, invest the time to learn and explore the features and effects that you can put into practice. Understand its strengths and weaknesses and make sure those align with the goals you have for your rig. And don’t be too bashful to ask questions online—each of these units has a robust community of users, which means there’s a ton of info out there. Chances are if you run into a roadblock, someone else has too.
Finally, do what inspires you. Don’t overthink things or get distracted from the big picture, which is to enjoy making music.
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With the release of his latest solo EP, Vertiginous Canyons, the former Police guitarist shares in-depth on his personal journey from Romani caravan to becoming a peer of Eric Clapton’s to shaping a modern dialect of jazz-rock innovation.
This past June, onstage at a handsomely restored vaudeville theater in Washington, D.C., the guitarist and composer Andy Summers made a small but spirited crowd laugh. Hard.
Summers, who rose to fame in the late 1970s as one third of the new-wave phenomenon the Police, told many stories and landed many punchlines. There was the episode in which he and John Belushi partook of psychedelics in Bali, and the time he got kind of hustled by a striking, guitar-playing Long Neck Karen villager in Thailand. He recounted a gut-busting tale of taking a few too many sleeping pills on a trip to South America. With perfectly British dryness and timing, he improvised an aside about living near Arnold Schwarzenegger in Los Angeles, and how he just had to kick the Terminator’s ass.
Out of the Shadows
“I think it’s turning into a standup routine, basically,” Summers said recently over Zoom. He was being self-effacing. Mostly, this one-man multimedia show, entitled “The Cracked Lens + A Missing String,” allows Summers to reflect on enduring passions with sincerity, by “integrating these two media I’ve been working on for so long”: music, of course, and art photography, where his work combines painterly composition with street-level intimacy and the global-citizen mission of Nat Geo.
Behind projections of his photos, and between the storytelling and odd video clip, he gave a two-hour recital of solo guitar music. Summers played a new yellow Powers Electric A-Type guitar, and began his show by telling his audience how thrilled he was with it. (Summers has accrued around 200 guitars, many of them given to him, and maintains that he’s “definitely a player,” not a collector.)
Summers spent a significant part of his 20s studying classical music, originally inspired by Julian Bream. Now, onstage in his one-man show, it's clearly time to reflect on his past.
Summers began touring “The Cracked Lens” before the pandemic—the final show prior to shutdown took place at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, in 2019—and picked it up last year. It’s evolved, he says, through improvisation and trial and error, following a process much like one he’d put into motion for any band or project.
In D.C., the setlist was both surprising and deeply satisfying. Newer solo music like “Metal Dog” came off as delightfully arch and abstract, a reminder that Summers hit the Billboard albums chart with Robert Fripp, with 1982’s I Advance Masked. A sterling chord-melody arrangement of Thelonious Monk’s “’Round Midnight” spoke to the lifelong impact American jazz has had on the guitarist. A winsome mini-set of bossa nova, including “Manhã de Carnaval,” Luiz Bonfá’s theme to the film Black Orpheus, illustrated Summers’ devotion to both the cinema and the music of Brazil.
And yes, there was Police material, too, which Summers reharmonized and rearranged and used as vessels for longform improvisation. Atop programmed backing tracks, he treated songs like “Tea in the Sahara,” “Roxanne,” “Spirits in the Material World,” and “Message in a Bottle” as if they were his beloved jazz standards, drawing agile lines in and around the harmony, using pop hits as a launch pad for wending single-note narratives. In a small theater, it felt as if you were eavesdropping on Summers, whiling away an afternoon in his home studio. An excitable woman behind me couldn’t help but try and banter with him as he stalked the stage; the guy to my right played air drums. This was thrilling—especially if you were a Police fan whose context for these songs was sold-out arenas.
A New Installment
To combine music and imagery was also the impetus for Vertiginous Canyons, Summers’ recent solo EP. Commissioned as an accent to the guitarist’s fifth photo book, A Series of Glances, the project features eight spontaneously composed instrumental pieces of pop-song length. Its sparkling, layered, and looped soundscapes serve as Zen-like mood music for viewing the photographs. By design, Summers improvised Vertiginous Canyons in a single afternoon without too much fuss, using mostly his early ’60s Strat. “This was drone-like, ambient, atmosphere stuff that I thought was enough,” Summers explains. “Because I suppose you could get into a place, let’s say, where the photography and the music are fighting each other.
“One of the cardinal rules of scoring films, which I’ve done many,” he adds, “is don’t get in the way of the movie.”
On Vertiginous Canyons, listeners will hear influences from Eno to Hendrix to Bill Frisell.
As with Summers’ solo show, the music can stand alone. In many ways, Vertiginous Canyons also comes off like Eno or classical minimalism or the edgiest strain of what can be called “new age”—an engaging yet accessible entryway to experimental music. And as with any effective musical abstraction, what you’ve heard in your life is what you’ll hear in Vertiginous Canyons. The twinkling, fluttering phrases of “Blossom” bring to mind Bill Frisell. “Translucent” and “Village” summon up Glenn Branca’s guitar armies in their quietest moments, ramping up toward euphoria. “Blur” is a far-out exercise in Hendrix-style backwards soloing; “Into the Blue” is Pink Floyd meets Popol Vuh.
Greatly moved by Julian Bream as a young man, Summers spent a sizable chunk of his 20s immersed in classical guitar in California, as hard rock and the singer-songwriters ascended. When I ask him if those studies informed Vertiginous Canyons, his response is rapid-fire. “Definitely. I mean, I spent years doing nothing but classical music, classical guitar,” he says. “It’s very important information that I took in … and it stayed with me the rest of my life.
“So my ears are wide open.... I’m a sophisticated harmonic player, and it’s also informed by classical music. I’m sort of all-’round educated in the ways you can do music.”
Summer Reflections
To let an artist’s age guide your judgment of them is unfair. But in Summers’ case, it’s essential to understanding how and why he became such a fascinating guitarist, one whose whip-smart, cross-cultural approach overhauled the prevailing notion of what rock-guitar heroics could be in the late 1970s and early ’80s.
He was born on the last day of 1942, “a kid from the English countryside,” he says. His father was in the Royal Air Force; his mother supported the war effort working in a bomb factory. Alongside Django Reinhardt, he’s on the short list of guitar idols who spent their earliest days in a Romani caravan, which his father bought in the face of a housing shortage. In terms of rock generations, think about it: Jimi Hendrix was born in November of ’42, Keith Richards in ’43, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page in ’44, Pete Townshend and Eric Clapton in ’45. Summers debuted the cinematic, reggae-soaked sound that made him famous on the Police’s Outlandos d’Amour, in 1978, as the punk explosion gave way to post-punk and new wave. But his contemporaries are the British bluesmen who were architects of the psychedelic era and won over the baby boomers.
Andy Summers' Gear
When Summers, pictured here performing with the Police in 1982, began developing his blues chops, he blended in complex chords and jazz phrasing.
Photo by Frank White
Guitars
For touring:
- Fender Custom Shop Stratocaster
- Powers Electric A-Type
Amps
- Fender Twin with Fender Special Design Speakers
- Fractal Axe-Fx III
- Bob Bradshaw 100-watt head
- Roland JC-120
- Various Mesa/Boogie heads, cabinets and power amps
Effects
Current Pedaltrain pedalboard includes these effects, among many others:
- TC Electronic SCF Gold
- Electro-Harmonix Micro POG
- DigiTech Whammy
- Klon Centaur
- TC Electronic Brainwaves
- MXR Carbon Copy
- Electro-Harmonix Freeze
- Paul Trombetta Design Rotobone
- TC Electronic Dark Matter
- Mad Professor Golden Cello
Picks & Strings
- Dunlop Andy Summers Custom 2.0 mm Picks
- D’Addario Strings, mostly .010–.046
The electric-blues revivalism that his peers favored was a scene with which Summers engaged mostly by circumstance. In some capacity he was immersed in it, gigging and recording with hot R&B acts of Swinging Sixties London. But as a developing guitarist, he also transcended its stylistic boundaries, and he ultimately missed out on the wildly lucrative parts of it, after it’d evolved from nightclub entertainment to chart-topping, festival-headlining pop.
“[We’re talking about] real modern electric-guitar history,” Summers says, “because I was really pretty close with Clapton. We all knew each other. There were about five or six of us, and we all played at one club [the Flamingo, in London].
“I watched Eric develop, and he had this mission to play the blues … and he ripped off some great blues solos,” Summers adds, with a mischievous chuckle. “I had grown up with different kinds of music in those formative [teenage] years, when you’re taking it all in and trying to be able to do it.”
So much has been written about how the ’60s British-guitar titans tapped into early rock ’n’ roll influences and Chicago blues, rescuing the latter from obscurity in its country of origin. But it’s important to remember the profound impact that midcentury modern jazz had on culturally curious young Brits; in fact, the moniker “mods”—that clothes-obsessed cult that gave us the Who—began as “modernists,” as in devotees of modern jazz, R&B, soul, and ska.
Before meeting Sting (left) and forming the Police, Andy Summers (right) was close friends with Eric Clapton and once jammed with Jimi Hendrix.
Photo by Ebet Roberts
Summers was hooked. Guitarists Wes Montgomery, Jimmy Raney, Kenny Burrell and Grant Green ranked among his favorites, alongside Sonny Rollins. Rather than sticking to 12-bar patterns, Summers shedded on complex chord sequences and jazz phrasing, logging “thousands of hours of listening, trying to get it. But that’s where the feel of the time comes from, which is the most important element.”
“Eric and I talked about it,” he continues, “and I was in a different place. I don’t think we really had arguments about it, but he was absolutely a disciple of the blues, where I was more into other things.” Summers loved the fleet, chromatic lines of bop, and classical guitar, and African and Indian music. He recalls transcribing Ravi Shankar.
“So I felt like I very much had my own path, and it wasn’t the Eric Clapton path. I was aware of all that, but Eric was deeply into B.B. King — gave me his B.B. King record, actually—Live at the Regal, told me to check it out. So I did listen to it, and yeah, okay, I get it. But my head was elsewhere.” (During that period, Summers also sold Clapton a ’58 Les Paul, after Slowhand’s 1960 model was stolen. “It was guitar craziness,” Summers says. “I really anguished over selling my Les Paul, but I just wasn’t into it. I think there was something wrong with the pickup—at least I thought there was, in my sort of naivety at that time.”)
Nor was Summers’ path the Hendrix path. Because of his friendship with the Jimi Hendrix Experience’s drummer Mitch Mitchell, Summers once jammed in the late ’60s with Jimi. “A quiet guy with a very loud guitar. And he could play the shit out of the guitar,” Summers laughs. “He was definitely sort of a force of nature. You’d feel it.” At an L.A. studio where the Jimi Hendrix Experience was in session, Summers began playing with Mitchell on a break. But “Jimi just couldn’t stay away from the music,” Summers recalls. So Hendrix picked up a bass to anchor Summers’ guitar, until Jimi asked to trade.
“I think of it almost as a sort of a comic moment,” Summers reflects today. “Jimi had come into the scene and … didn’t really play like anyone else. I mean, he played Jimi Hendrix … incredible, but I didn’t really want to play like that. I’ve got to find my own thing. It was very imperative to me not to be yet another Hendrix copier. And I think it’s what he would have appreciated, too.”
Although the first album by the Police was released in late 1978, Summers already had an extensive catalog of recordings with Eric Burdon, Kevin Ayers, Kevin Coyne, Zoot Money’s Big Roll Band, and Joan Armatrading before “Roxanne” alerted the world that a new kind of pop group was arriving.
To hear Summers on pre-Police recordings is intriguing; even on straightforward forms, his good taste and sense of harmony present a shrewd, knowing alternative to his peers. Seek out the 1965 LP It Should’ve Been Me, by Zoot Money’s Big Roll Band: On a take of Jimmy Reed’s “Bright Lights, Big City,” Summers applies the single-note harmonic finesse of Grant Green to barroom British R&B. (It was Green’s Gibson ES-330, a surprising instrument for a jazz picker at the time, that inspired Summers to pick up an ES-335 after his ES-175 was stolen.) A few years later, as part of Eric Burdon’s New Animals, Summers covered Traffic’s “Coloured Rain,” going long on a fuzztone solo that fits the psychedelic bill while also telling a story with precision and patience.
Summers’ ship came in nearly a decade later, after he’d returned to England from California and met drummer Stewart Copeland and a singer and bass player, Gordon Sumner, who went by “Sting.” They were bright, dexterous, and culturally well-versed, with backgrounds in prog and jazz. “I think we had a credo,” Summers says, “and it was spoken out loud: We don’t want to sound like anybody else.
“I found I could talk to Sting and say, ‘I want to play this kind of altered chord here. What do you think?’ He could sing right through anything. He had the ears to be able to sing it like a jazz singer. Not that we were trying to lay ‘We’re really jazzers’ on the public. We were trying to present ourselves as a rock band with songs. But the information that we were putting into those rock-song arrangements was different.”
Summers in a late ’80s promo photo, near the start of his solo-recording career.
For Summers, that meant matching the musicianship he’d started earning as a teenager on jazz bandstands with the au courant sounds of post-punk and reggae, filtered through emergent sonic technology. With his heavily modded 1961 Tele and custom Pete Cornish pedalboard, he offered chord sequences and lines that have challenged and educated generations of practicing guitarists brought up on blues-rock technique. Alongside his deft use of open space, he was that rarest rock guitarist who paid serious mind to chord voicings. “My job was to turn the chords into something more unusual,” Summers says, “to have more unusual guitar parts. For instance, something like ‘Walking on the Moon,’ I put in a Dm11 chord, with reverb and a beautiful chorus sound. So it’s got the 11th on top, and immediately it grasps your ear. It’s like the signature of the song was that chord.”
“So my ears are wide open.... I’m a sophisticated harmonic player, and it’s also informed by classical music. I’m sort of all-’round educated in the ways you can do music.”
Of course, no other Summers guitar part or Police song made bigger waves than 1983’s “Every Breath You Take.” Influenced by Bartók’s “44 Duos for Two Violins,” Summers crafted a repeating figure that underlined Sting’s standard pop-song structure while avoiding conventional triadic harmony. (Losing the third from tired rock chords was Summers’ not-so-secret weapon.) “It gave it that haunting quality that made the whole track come to life,” Summers says, “because otherwise, I think we would have dumped the song. It wasn’t one of our favorites at all.”
The Police last performed on their historic reunion tour of 2007 to ’08, and their relationship today is mostly business. “We’re not hanging out with each other,” Summers says. “We’re all in touch through headquarters.” One thing they’ve had to agree on this year is a Super Deluxe reissue, toasting the 40th anniversary of the Synchronicity album, which provides new context that might safely be called revelatory. Among the new box set’s many previously unreleased goodies is Sting’s original demo for “Every Breath You Take,” weighed down with synth keyboards that pile on the sentimentality and pin the track squarely to the 1980s. (Unlike so much ’80s pop-rock, the Police’s music has aged well.) “You can see the transformation,” says Summers.
“Every Breath You Take” became a global smash that ranks among pop’s most successful songs, a feather in the cap of the band that owned the late ’70s and ’80s. Consider this: At a time when his psych-era peers were considered middle-aged Flower Power relics, Summers was leaping around onstage like a bleached-blond atom and representing pop rock’s bleeding edge on MTV. Now, at 81, he’s found a way to forge ahead and, in some fashion, improve on the past.
Call The Police (Andy Summers / João Barone / Rodrigo Santos) - Synchronicity II (ensaio/rehearsal)
With bandmates João Barone and Rodrigo Santos, of Police tribute band Call the Police, Summers displays the adept riffage that brought him to the big stages and helped solidify his rock legacy.
Leveling Up
When we connect on a followup call in mid July, Summers is in Brazil, about to embark on a South American tour with his trio, Call the Police. This tribute project of a sort features two celebrated Brazilian rockers, bassist-vocalist Rodrigo Santos and drummer João Barone, and plays hits-filled live sets to packed houses. “It’s sort of enhanced, because it gets looser. It’s a bit uptight with those other guys I play with,” says Summers.
With regard to those other guys, that uptightness had much to do with the punk and new-wave era that bore the Police. The relationship between punk and the band was complicated. Somehow, they managed to use the movement’s greatest lessons—in energy, creative bravery, and concise songcraft—without pandering to its musical primitivism. Summers’ reputation amongst guitarists rested in the minimalist intelligence of his decision-making; you kind of understood he could play anything, but he was mature enough not to. “I didn’t feel the need to crush everybody with every guitar part,” he says.
“It was more like a guitar solo is supposed to be a mark of the old guard. You weren’t supposed to be able to play; it was really that dumb.”
Nevertheless, he believes that punk’s principle of non-musicianship kept him from exploring the songs to their fullest. “I think I should have played more solos than I was given the space to do,” he says. “It pisses me off actually, because this came more from Stewart. When we started the band in the thick of the hardcore-punk scene, it was more like a guitar solo is supposed to be a mark of the old guard. You weren’t supposed to be able to play; it was really that dumb.”
“I was a virtuoso player,” he adds, “so it was very frustrating for me. Later, when we did sort of open it up, it really got more exciting. The fact that I could play as well as I did, I found it was a bit threatening. Because the highlight in a performance of a song … would be the guitar solo.”
As in “The Cracked Lens + A Missing String,” Summers can stretch out in Call the Police to his heart’s content. At long last. “It’s very improvised,” he says, “and they’re up to the level where they can do that. They go with me. It’s how it should always have been.”
Dark, enveloping, and mysterious tape-echo-style repeats on the cheap in an enclosure that fits in the smallest spaces.
Dark, enveloping repeats that rival more expensive tape-echo emulations and offer an alternative to click-prone BBD echoes. Cool chorus and flanger effects at fastest repeat times.
Small knobs make it tough to take advantage of real-time tweaking.
$137
Electro-Harmonix Pico Rerun
ehx.com
My most treasured effect is an old Echoplex. Nothing feels like it, and though I’ve tried many top-flight digital emulations, most of which sounded fantastic, nothing sounds quite like it either. If the best digital “tape” delays do one thing well, it’s approximating the darkness and unpredictable variations in tape-echo repeats.
Electro-Harmonix’s Pico Rerun plays the character of tape echo very convincingly in this respect. It hangs with more expensive digital tape echoes at a $137 price tag that’s easy to stomach. Better still, this Pico version is petite and offers unexpected surprises and flexibility.
Beyond the Pico Rerun’s essential enveloping voice, the pedal enables a lot of fairly authentic tape-echo functionality. Manipulating the feedback, blend, and echo rate controls together (which is tricky given their small size) yields flying-saucer liftoff and “Dazed and Confused” time/space-mangling textures in copious measure. These tweaks betray some digital artifacts—mainly trebly peaks that don’t have the benefit of real tape-compression softening, but they hardly get in the way of the fun. Saturation lends welcome drive and haze. And the flutter button adds faux tape wobble in three degrees of intensity. At the most intense setting, long repeats take on a woozy sense of drift. At the fastest rates, however, the flutter function will generate chorus and flange effects that neither my Echoplex, nor my best tape echo simulators, can manufacture.
The three bassists—whose collective work spans Vulfpeck, D’Angelo, Rage Against the Machine, and much more—cast a wide musical net with their StingRay basses.
The story of the Ernie Ball Music Man StingRay is a deep journey through the history of the electric guitar business, going way back to connections made in Leo Fender’s early days. When the StingRay was introduced in 1976, it changed the electric-bass game, and it’s still the instrument of choice for some of the most cutting-edge bass players around. Here’s what a few of them have to say about their StingRays:
Joe Dart (Vulfpeck)
“My first glimpse of a StingRay was watching early videos of Flea, who had a black StingRay that he played in an early instructional video, as well as on the Funky Monks tape, showing the making of Blood Sugar Sex Magik. After that, I discovered Bernard Edwards and his playing with Chic, where he developed such an iconic funk and disco sound. From there, I discovered Pino Palladino’s brilliant fretless StingRay playing. Luckily, one day in the studio, someone handed me an old StingRay, and I used it on a couple of Vulfpeck recordings. I love the punchy, growly, bright tone. The StingRay cuts through the mix. It’s the perfect funk and disco bass.
Pino Palladino
“I played guitar in bands until 1976, when I decided to start playing bass, and that coincided with the StingRay coming out. I actually tried one in a store in Cardiff in Wales, where I come from. I remember plugging it in, and I didn’t really know much about preamps. I don’t think anybody knew much about preamps back then, because it wasn’t even a thing in a bass guitar. So, I turned everything up and it was too trebly for me. I didn’t know you could tweak the controls. I didn’t gravitate towards the instrument at first, to be honest.
Fast forward a few years and I was in my early twenties on my first trip to America with Jools Holland in 1981. I stumbled into Sam Ash Music on 48th Street in New York one day, and I saw a fretless Music Man StingRay on the wall. It sounded amazing straight away. I hadn’t played much fretless bass up until that point, but for some reason I could just play that instrument in tune. I was playing it and thinking, ‘Wow, this is not so hard.’ I backed off the treble a little bit and found a nice, little happy position where it felt really good. And it just had such a great punchy sound. I played it with Jools Holland on the first night I bought it, and I pretty much never put it down for 10 or 15 years after that.”
Tim Commerford (Rage Against the Machine)
“I got a blonde StingRay when I was about 19 years old, and that was the bass that I played for the first Rage record. At that time in my life, as a musician, I was kind of clueless to the nuances of the sound of an instrument. If it worked, it worked; if it didn’t work for me, it didn’t. I was just a knucklehead. I can’t even remember the reason why I went away from it. I think it’s because I wanted to get a real edgy sound, and I didn’t really know how to shape things in the way that I do now through experimenting. I’ve been very lucky, and I’ve had a lot of opportunities to experiment, so I’ve learned a lot over the years. And the StingRay could have done it all. I really could have done it all with the StingRay. Long story short, the preamp is arguably the best one, still. It took me a minute to realize just how powerful that preamp is—it’s a banger. Listening back, sometimes I hear [Rage Against the Machine] songs on the radio, and I’m just like, ‘Wow.’ It’s such a clean, pristine sound that comes from a StingRay.”
Our columnist breaks down why Leo’s original designs are still the benchmark for pristine guitar sounds.
It’s time to discuss a favorite topic of mine: the Fender clean tone. I’m a big fan of pristine guitar tones, and I think it might be the reason why I got into Fender amps in the first place. So, in this column, I’ll break down and explain what creates the beautiful, crystalline tone in vintage Fender amps, and share which amps are best for capturing these huge, squeaky-clean sounds.
Among my music friends, I am known for advocating these tones. Sometimes my bandmates want more distortion and growl from my guitar, but I proudly resist and argue that the music we create profits from a clearer guitar tone. It’s not about volume and distortion; it’s about melody, rhythm, and dynamics. Personally, I find it more interesting to hear guitarists with clarity, where I can identify single notes and what they are doing. It’s much harder to play clean, and the transparency forces us guitarists to consider more carefully what we play.
Tone and music are definitely matters of personal taste. What someone finds naked and thin, others will find clear and articulate. Let me therefore explain my definition of “clean tone.” A good, clean tone means clarity and little distortion. Clarity is achieved when there is a certain balance between the frequencies. There must be enough sparkle and brightness together with a firm low end. In my definition, you can also have some distortion as long as you have enough clarity to hear single strings in a chord, which some define as a “bell-like” tone. Muddy or overwhelming mid and bass frequencies will spoil this clarity. I like punchy guitar sounds, and for that we need muscle and power from large power-amp sections and larger speaker cabinets. But again, there must be enough sparkle and treble attack to balance that big low end.
The black- and silver-panel Fender amps excel in this area. Fender designed these amps specifically to support the music style of the 1950s and ’60s: Whether it was folk, country, rock, or surf, the guitars were supposed to be bright and clean. The amps therefore had to produce a sound that was both clean and loud, often without PA systems.
There are several reasons why these Fender amps sound the way they do. Let’s dive into the most important factors. Firstly, the tone stack and EQ section play a significant role in creating a scooped tone with few mids. Most AB763 Fender amps have 250 pF, 0.1 μF, and 0.022 μF caps (treble, mid, and bass, respectively), controlled by 250k bass and treble pots and a 10k mid pot (or a fixed 6.8k resistor in amps without the mid pot). If you alter the value of the mid resistor or insert a larger coupling cap after the preamp section, you will get more, and earlier, breakup. If we look at the preamp sections of the AB763 amps, there is no tube gain stage, whose purpose is to introduce distortion. There are only the necessary tube gain stages to mix and lead the signal to the power amp section.
“Fender designed these amps specifically to support the music style of the 1950 and ’60s: The guitars were supposed to be bright and clean.”
The power amp section is equally important. The AB763-style amps have dual power tubes in a Class AB push-pull configuration which has significant clean headroom—more than single-end Class A amps. The fixed-bias design provides more headroom than cathode bias, which creates sag and less headroom. The efficient long-tail phase inverter and the negative feedback loop are also used to minimize clipping. Finally, using American-style speakers in the open-back cabinet design of the black- and silver-panel combo amps will enhance bright frequencies and tame the mids and low end. All these details point to one conclusion: Fender designed the AB763 amps to achieve the cleanest possible tone.
For me, the cleans of a Super Reverb are especially fantastic. The four, lightly driven 10″ speakers produce a scooped sound with great dynamics and touch sensitivity. The full set of EQ controls, robust power amp, and large transformers work together to give you both sparkle and a firm low end, even at high volumes. The Pro Reverb and Princeton Reverb, however, will struggle to stay clean when pushed. The relatively small-output transformers are a bottleneck in these amps, and they both lack the important mid control to tame the bass and mids. The Pro Reverb’s boomy 2x12 cabinet gives a flabby bass response, and the Princeton Reverb has a cheaper and inefficient phase inverter. This means that these amps can play clean only at lower volumes. If you read my previous articles on these amps, you will find easy instructions for how to improve the clean headroom, if that’s what you want.
If it’s natural distortion you’re after, the best black- or silver-panel Fender amp is the AB165 Bassman. But that’s a different story we’ll come back to later.