The San Francisco-born roots-rock guitarist feels like an East Coaster at heart, and his latest, She Loved the Coney Island Freak Show, might be his most rocking, fitting homage to the Big Apple.
When Jim Campilongo phones in with Premier Guitar, it’s from his home in the Bay Area—the same place where he first picked up the guitar in the 1970s, began playing shows with local groups some years later and, eventually, launched his recording career in the 1990s. Over the subsequent decades, he established himself as one of the instrument’s foremost creatives, building a catalog of primarily instrumental albums that encompass a dazzling array of styles—rock, jazz, roots, Western swing, classical, experimental—all informed by his inventive, flexible and never-predictable playing, mostly on a Fender Telecaster plugged direct into an amp.
He did this largely in his adopted home of New York City, where, for most of the 2000s, he was a mainstay—and, for music fans in the know, a must-see—of the downtown arts scene, with long-running and celebrated residencies at Lower East Side venues like Rockwood Music Hall and the now-defunct Living Room.
Campilongo left the East Coast to return West roughly two years ago. But his newest record, She Loved the Coney Island Freak Show, is very much a New York album—maybe his most New York one of all. It is also very much a rock album—maybe his most rock one of all. There are reasons for this. The roots of the record stretch back to the dark days of Covid, when words like “quarantine” and “distancing” were too much a part of the common vernacular. Life was weirder, quieter and, truth be told, often drearier. Campilongo found escape where he could, which manifested in daily 5 a.m. walks around his Brooklyn neighborhood. His companion was an old iPod playlist of classic-rock songs. “I’d go out, it’d be pitch black, there’d be no one around—it was like a science-fiction movie,” he recalls. “I had these old-school Vic Firth headphones, and an iPod that had a playlist of maybe 300 classic-rock tunes that I made back when iPods were the latest thing. And I would walk the streets listening to it over and over.”
The 4TET, from left to right: drummer Dan Rieser, Campilongo, bassist Andy Hess, and guitarist Luca Benedetti.
Some of the songs that, quite literally, got into Campilongo’s head? “It was ‘Mississippi Queen’ kind of stuff,” he says. “‘Hush’ by Deep Purple. Elvin Bishop’s ‘Travelin’ Shoes,’ which is an amazingly eventful track. There’s background vocals, there’s a little breakdown, there’s a melodic solo. There’s harmonies, a great rhythm.... I became obsessed with it.”
These songs, and the 297 or so others on Campilongo’s playlist, informed several of the tracks on She Loved the Coney Island Freak Show. One, a greasy, growly workout titled “This Is a Quiet Street,” was influenced by Grand Funk Railroad’s live version of the Animals’ 1966 single, “Inside Looking Out”—“a song I’ve been listening to since high school, and that I’ve been trying to write for 20 years,” Campilongo says. “This is about the closest I’ve gotten.” Another track, “Do Not Disturb,” he continues, “is like my interpretation of a ZZ Top tune.”
“I’d go out, it’d be pitch black, there’d be no one around—it was like a science-fiction movie.... And I would walk the streets listening to it over and over.”
But She Loves the Coney Island Freak Show is not all rock-influenced. Leadoff track “Dragon Stamp,” a dark, deep-in-the-pocket jam that Campilongo introduces by sounding a detuned open low string, and then hitting a harmonic and raising the pitch by bending the string behind the nut (something of a JC trademark move), came to Campilongo after repeated playings of “Step to Me,” a 1991 song from deceased New York hardcore rapper Tim Dog, on his early morning walks. “I think I listened to that 50 times in a row, numerous times,” Campilongo says. “I couldn’t get enough of it.” The emotive “Sunset Park,” meanwhile, in which Campilongo unspools languid, vocal guitar lines in a manner that is nothing short of a master class in the subtle art of touch, tone and phrasing, was influenced by a Maria Callas aria. Another track, “Sal’s Waltz,” by Frédéric Chopin. “Whether it’s successful or not, who knows?” Campilongo says self-effacingly.
Sunset Park
While many of the She Loved the Coney Island Freak Show songs have their origins in Campilongo’s early-morning walks and his iPod-provided soundtrack, bringing them into existence was in some ways a more immediate affair. To record the album, Campilongo got together with guitarist and longtime collaborator Luca Benedetti, bassist Andy Hess, and drummer Dan Rieser in a combo they dubbed the 4TET, and laid down the tracks live in the studio—two studios, to be exact. “We did two days recording at Bunker [in Williamsburg, Brooklyn], and then another two days at a different studio [Atomic Sound, in Red Hook, Brooklyn],” he says. “It was pure joy to play with those guys.”
“I always figured I could get all the sounds I want from the volume and tone knobs on the guitar, or from where I pick, and how hard; all those little variations.”
Campilongo, as is his way, kept his gear setup minimal: his trusty 1959 Fender Telecaster with a top-loader bridge, plugged straight into a 1970 silver-panel Fender Princeton Reverb fitted with a Celestion G10 speaker—no pedals required. “It’s so uninteresting for me to talk about gear, because it’s basically the same answer every time,” he says with a laugh. As for why he mostly eschews effects? “I always figured I could get all the sounds I want from the volume and tone knobs on the guitar—and on a Tele, those knobs are really dramatic—or from where I pick, and how hard; all those little variations,” he reasons. Another benefit of going sans pedals? “You kind of just accept the hand you’re dealt, and you can get down to playing music quicker.”
When it came to the playing, Campilongo stuck to another tried-and-true aspect of his guitar style—improvisation. “None of what I’m doing on the album was worked out beforehand,” he says of his solos on She Loved the Coney Island Freak Show. In his opinion, this makes for not only a better playing experience, but a better listening one, too. “If I play a perfect solo and it’s worked out, I generally don’t like listening to it, because it’s not a time capsule of that moment,” he says. “It’s like going out on a first date and having a script of what to talk about, instead of it just being a natural conversation. I want to hear the real talk, warts and all.”
Jim Campilongo's Gear
Campilongo performing at Rockwood Music Hall Stage 3, the same Lower East Side venue where he previously held a long-running residency.
Photo by Manish Gosalia
Guitars
- 1959 Fender Telecaster
- Lumiere Jim Campilongo Signature T- Model
- Fender Custom Shop Jim Campilongo Signature Telecaster
Amps
Effects
- Crazy Tube Circuits Splash Reverb
- Crazy Tube Circuits Stardust Overdrive
- JAM Pedals Wahcko
- Universal Audio OX Amp Top Box
- Boomerang Phrase Sampler
Strings, Picks, & Accessories
- D’Addario EXL120 Nickel Wound Super Light (.009–.042)
- V-Picks Fusion
- Klotz Titanium guitar cable
- Souldier guitar straps
Campilongo’s commitment to balancing on that creative knife edge informs every aspect of the album, and also his music in general. “I don’t want to ever put out the same record twice in a row,” he says. To that end, he is already plotting future challenges, including a “pseudo-jazz record where I’m playing standards in the way I would present them, which would be a little scary.”
For all his musical adventurism, one aspect of Campilongo’s artistic makeup that remains steadfast is his connection to the city that helped birth She Loved the Coney Island Freak Show. “Even though I’m back in California, in many ways I feel like a transplanted New Yorker,” Campilongo says. “It’s in my DNA,” he laughs. “It’s not like I’m returning home to the West Coast and, you know, I can’t wait to go surfing.”
YouTube It
For years, Jim Campilongo held court at New York City’s Rockwood Music Hall. Here, Jim and the 4TET tear through a She Loved the Coney Island Freak Show highlight: the Southern-rock-inflected, ZZ Top-inspired “Do Not Disturb.”
Introducing the new Seymour Duncan Billy Gibbons signature offerings: The Hades Gates Humbucker set for a mid-forward punch with extra heat, and the Red Devil for Tele, capturing his hot Texas tone.
Billy Gibbons Red Devil for Tele
When Seymour Duncan first introduced the Signature Billy Gibbons Red Devil set, his fiery sound was captured in Strat-sized humbucker pickups. Now, that hot Texas tone is available as a drop-in replacement bridge pickup for any Telecaster wielding guitarist.
Approved by Reverend Willie G himself, the Red Devil for Tele is built with an Alnico 5magnet, 4 conductor cable, and a hot wind that drives amps and pedals harder than a traditional vintage humbucker. Whether you’re looking for cutting leads, tight pinch harmonics, or thick rhythm tones, it’s all at your fingertips with the Red Devil for Tele.
Billy Gibbons Hades Gates Pickup Set
Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.From scorching lead guitar to his own line of hot sauces, Billy Gibbons has never been afraid of a little extra heat. The Pearly Gates pickup set from his coveted 1959 Les Paul has been a favorite among P.A.F. purists for decades. For the Reverend, some guitars in his collection benefitted from additional output to deliver his signature sound.
This demand for a hotter wind forged The Hades Gates humbucker set – a fiery take on the mid-forward, punchy sound Billy is known for. Alnico 2 magnets and this added output drive your amp into some hot, blue, and righteous territory.
Hades Gates Humbuckers are hand-built in Santa Barbara, California with 4-conductor cables and short mounting legs.
For more information, please visit seymourduncan.com.
Realistic and highly controllable Leslie sounds from an essentially easy-to-use stompbox. More control than some similar-priced models. Stereo ins and outs.
Drive control could be more responsive and, at higher settings, more subtle. Slow-fast switch’s multi-functionality can be initially confusing, so save the instructions.
$299
Keeley I Get Around Rotary Simulator
robertkeeley.com
A highly controllable, mid-priced rotary speaker simulator inspired by the Beach Boys that nails the essential character of a Leslie—in stereo.
There’s nothing cooler than using a Leslie cabinet in the studio, and few things worse than having to lug one to gigs. The famed Leslie 981, for example, weighs nearly 150 pounds. Enter the rotary speaker pedal—an easy-on-the-back alternative for players who are looking to conjure Leslie-derived guitar sounds employed on classic records by Hendrix, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, and others.
California Roller
There are a lot of good options for on-the-floor rotary pedals between $99 and $549. At $299, Keeley Electronics’ new I Get Around Rotary Simulator falls in the middle of the pack on pricing but has an array of functions that make it competitive with costlier examples. The I Get Around is part of a collaboration between Keeley, JHS Pedals, and Benson amps, dedicated to creating five limited-edition effects in tribute to the Beach Boys. I can’t recall many Beach Boys tracks with Leslie-style guitar, but Brian Wilson did use the effect on brother Carl’s guitar on 1965’s “You’re So Good to Me,” and a year later on the song “Pet Sounds.”
At 5" x 4" x 2", the I Get Around is a little larger than the average stompbox, but that’s necessary to accommodate the three big dials on top (blend, drive, and speed) as well as the on/off (which also works to select true bypass or buffered mode) and slow-fast switches, plus the stereo inputs and outputs. Using two amps in stereo makes the flutter and warble of the rotary sound more pronounced and immersive. It’s truly psychedelic. There’s also a toggle that adds a 4.5 dB mid-boost, which fattens and tightens the tone enough for me to simply want to leave that boost engaged all the time.
How I Got Around
I ran the I Get Around—powered by a 9V barrel connector at 130 mA— through a pair of Carr amps, playing a Gibson Les Paul Standard and a PRS SE Silver Sky, and blended the pedal with overdrive, fuzz, and delay as I experimented. I love the extra-large size of the speed control, which let me adjust the rate of simulated rotation at a whim with my shoe. The speed’s range is .06 Hz to .6 Hz, with 1 Hz being one revolution per second, and all the speed settings sound great and conjure the vibes you’d want from a Leslie, from velvet-painting dreamscapes to edgy, breathless Robert Ward- and David Gilmour-style psychedelic blues. Add a little delay and the sound becomes spongier and stranger, but too much, of course, can turn things to muck, as can an overbearing fuzz.
The drive control is a subtle overdrive that simulates a pushed 6550 and 12UA7 tube. At moderate amp volume, it doesn’t add much discernable grit until about 9 o’clock. Past 2 o’clock it rolled off enough top end to make my guitar sound less potent. But between those demarcations lies a very sweet spot for adding beef. The blend control starts being effective at about 8 o’clock, when the first hints of the rotary sound become a backdrop for the guitar’s voice, and then it's just a matter of turning up to taste—including cranking all the way clockwise to entirely eliminate your core guitar sound in favor of the rotary effect alone. For my taste, the best overall sounds were achieved with subtle-to-pronounced blends, between 9 o’clock and a bit past 2, that added rotary effect to my always-present basic guitar tone, thickening, supporting, and swirling behind it.
The slow-fast switch is all about drama. It allows toggling between two speed settings, and when it’s held down it stops the rotating speaker effect, which resumes when the switch is pressed again. The ramp rate can be customized as well. I like it slow, so the activation of the swirl is audible.
The Verdict
Keeley’s new I Get Around Rotary Simulator commands all the essential sounds you’d want from an actual Leslie. Unlike some pedals in its price range, it’s got stereo outs, which, to my thinking, are essential, because the rotary effect sounds best through guitar amps run in stereo. Also, the deep functionality beyond the basic adjustments of the three topside dials is attractive, adding more Leslie-like realism. There are cheaper alternatives, but to find competitive or better examples, you’ll need to reach deeper into your pockets.
Keeley I Get Around Rotary Simulator Pedal - Sweetwater Exclusive, Limited Release
I Get Around Rotary SimulatorFor so many musicians, the flaws in our playing stick out loud and clear. So, how can we let go and just play?
“Be your own artist, and always be confident in what you’re doing. If you’re not going to be confident, you might as well not be doing it.” —Aretha Franklin
Many, if not most, musicians I know suffer from something I call music dysmorphia. As people who suffer from body dysmorphic disorder torture themselves with an overwhelming preoccupation of their perceived flaws, be they real or imaginary, musicians often listen back to their musical performances and only hear what they don’t like. (Timing is rushed, tone’s too thin or too bassy, note choice too cliché or too weird; it’s never quite right to their ears). I know a ton of players who are way better musicians than I will ever be, yet they genuinely don’t like the way they play. It’s not false modesty, it’s the inability to process reality accurately.
I see it come up often during Rig Rundowns. Usually, players begin the interview by playing a 15- to 45-second improvised introduction. Often, they’ll be playing, it all sounds great, then they hit something they don’t really like. They get a frustrated look on their face and ask to take it again. But now they are in their heads. The second take usually feels a bit self-conscious, not as free and flowing as the first take. You can almost hear their thoughts: “This will be online forever, evidence of my poor playing.” You rarely hear a second take that has the magic of the first one because they’re thinking about being judged.
The author with one of Nashville’s finest, Tom Bukovac.
Photo by Chris Kies
I know there’s a disparity between the music that I hear in my head when I’m playing and the music I’m actually playing. I often phone-record songs on my gig to gather some evidence of what I actually sound like: check the tone, timing, note choice. There are gigs where I feel ashamed of what’s coming out of my amp, but when I listen back, it’s fine, sometimes even good. Other times, I think I’m killing it, but when I hear the recording, I feel a crushing pain of disappointment combined with deep shame.
I suspect we all sound the best when nobody is listening. When you have an audience, then you judge yourself because you think you are being judged. Why should we care? Music is not a contest, it’s art.
“People respond to reckless abandon in art.”
There is no agreed definition of what constitutes art. Art is subjective. There are no wrong decisions with art, so we should be cool with whatever we play. Sadly, that’s not the case. I suspect that’s because music means so much to us. Playing music is not just something we do, it’s who we are. When I was younger, I worked a wide variety of jobs, but I never felt bad about being a terrible roofer, waiter, factory worker, or teacher, because this was just something I had to do for money—it was not my life’s goal. But being a musician is not only my passion and my job, it is how I am wired. Music is my identity. So when I play and it sounds like I can’t play, my sense of self is called into question: What am I doing with my life? Who am I? Performing for others means putting our tiny, naked heart in our hands, and offering it to God and everybody to be judged. That’s a scary, vulnerable position.
I was jamming with Austin Mercuri, a great bass-player buddy of mine, and I asked him if he thinks music dysmorphia is a thing. He agreed that it totally is a thing, and he gave an interesting insight. Austin said, “Ever notice when you record something comedic, like a parody, it turns out so great musically? Because it’s tongue-in-cheek, any mistakes or oversteps just make it better, so you go for stuff beyond what you’ve done before, take crazy chances fearlessly, and they work.” That’s the trick: Don’t care, then you can explore without any second guessing or fear of judgment, because you’re just goofing off. People respond to reckless abandon in art.
As a musician, you’re probably not going to find happiness by comparing your playing to others, which is pretty much impossible. For example, my friend Tom Bukovac and I moved to Nashville around the same time. I’ve watched his career take off and felt the sting of envy for years. But now, I listen to Buk play and the only thing I feel is inspiration and awe. With innate talent and an obsessive work ethic, Buk developed this ability to tap into music, where it flows through him, unhindered by doubt or self-consciousness. Why should Buk’s brilliance, or anybody else’s, make me feel bad about my thing? Get back to why you started playing in the first place. Stop thinking, just play.
Discover the SoloDallas Orbiter Fuzz, a meticulously crafted effects pedal designed to blend genuine vintage tones with user-friendly versatility.
Building upon the legacy of the 1966 Arbiter Fuzz, the Orbiter Fuzz enhances this classic circuit with advanced fine-tuning circuitry.
Key Features:
- Vintage Tone: The Orbiter Fuzz delivers smooth, musical fuzz tones with cutting sustain, offering immediate inspiration.
- Vintage Power: Our unique power circuit internally converts modern wall power to emulate the draw of a vintage carbon zinc battery.
- "Sweet Spot" Dial: An internal mini potentiometer allows you to dial in the perfect impedance response for your favorite pickups.
Versatile Controls:
- FUZZ: Adjusts the overall amount of fuzz by shaping the signal’s waveform from triangular to square as the knob is turned clockwise.
- GAIN: Increases the amount of signal entering the circuit, pushing it into harmonic clipping for smooth overdriven fuzz tones.
- BIAS: Modifies voltage to the matched pair of transistors, unleashing a wide range of vintage fuzz tones. Lower voltages produce spitty Black Keys responses, while higher voltages create smooth American Woman fuzz.
- Compact Design: Optimized for pedalboard space and easy integration with any standard pedal.
- Durable Construction: Crafted for reliability to withstand rigorous touring conditions.
Technical Specifications:
- Input Impedance: 500 kOhm
- Output Impedance: 10 kOhm
- Power Requirements: External 9V DC center-negative power supply
- Dimensions: 4.75" x 2.50" x 1.5"
- Weight: 0.8 lbs
- Bypass: True bypass
Design Details:
- Custom Artwork: Retro space-age design that pays homage to the Arbiter’s flying saucer enclosure.
- High-Quality Housing: Durable reinforced steel enclosure with a vintage metallic blue hammered finish.
Why You Need the SoloDallas Orbiter Fuzz Pedal:
A great fuzz pedal is essential for every guitarist and bassist. The Orbiter Fuzz offers the smooth, singing fuzz tone every musician dreams of, combining musicality with the reliability you need. If you’re looking for a pedal that excels in both sound and style, the Orbiter Fuzz is a must-have. Complete your search for the perfect fuzz pedal with the Orbiter Fuzz.
Arriving on Planet Earth 9/1/24! The Orbiter Fuzz will be available for purchase exclusively at SoloDallas.com starting September 1, 2024. The first 100 orders will include a SoloDallas swag pack guaranteed to impress. All SoloDallas orders ship within 24 hours.
Price: $249 USD.