The Smashing Pumpkins frontman balances a busy creative life working as a wrestling producer, café/tea company owner, and a collaborator on his forward-thinking, far-reaching line of signature guitars. Decades into his career, Corgan continues to evolve his songcraft and guitar sound for the modern era on the band’s latest, Aghori Mhori Mei.
“Form follows function,” explains Billy Corgan when asked about the evolution of his songwriting. These three words seem to serve as his creative dictum. “Early Pumpkins was more about playing in clubs and effecting a response from the live audience, because that’s where we could get attention."
When the Smashing Pumpkins formed in 1988, they were ripping in rock clubs with psychedelic-inspired sets that drew on ’60s-rock influences like Blue Cheer, Jimi Hendrix, and Led Zeppelin. But by 1992, after the breakout success of the previous year’s swirling alt-rock masterpiece, Gish, “Suddenly, we’re on a major label,” recalls Corgan. “Pearl Jam sold a gazillion records. Nirvana sold a gazillion records. Alice in Chains is selling a gazillion records. And somebody puts a finger up to my temple and says, ‘You better figure out how to write pop songs or you’re going to go back to working at a record store.’
“So, how do I translate this kind of hazy psychedelic vision into something that sounds like pop-rock radio? I’d better figure this out, and fast.” On 1993’s Siamese Dream, Corgan had obviously gone far beyond simply figuring out how to fit his vision into a radio-ready format; he’d pushed alternative rock to new heights, masterfully crafting hooks fit for the band’s unique, massive guitar-driven sound.
More than three decades later, Corgan hasn’t stopped evolving his artistry to fit the times. On the firm foundation of his extremely well-developed, instantly recognizable musical voice, he’s made his career one of the most interesting in rock music, branching out into unpredictable trajectories. In 2017, he launched a new career as a professional wrestling producer when he purchased the National Wrestling Alliance, the source of the limited TV series Billy Corgan’s Adventures in Carnyland.The Smashing Pumpkins - "Edin"
And he’s applied that knack for spectacle—a de facto pre-req for anyone in the pro wrestling biz—to the band’s social media presence. In January 2024, when guitarist Jeff Schroeder split with the Smashing Pumpkins, they turned to the internet for an open call. Not only did the band eventually find new-hire Kiki Wong, but they effectively got every guitarist on the internet dreaming about joining the Pumpkins.
Corgan has also found a creative outlet as a guitar conceptualist. His four signature Reverends—the Billy Corgan Signature, Terz, Z-One, and Drop Z—were created in collaboration with Joe Naylor, the company’s visionary builder. Taken together, these models go well beyond standard signature artist instruments protocols. Not content to just design his own dream guitar, Corgan is equally concerned with contributing to the guitar community. The Billy Corgan Signature and Z-One models are forward-thinking electric guitars well-outfitted with hip, futuristic aesthetics and custom pickups; the Terz and Drop Z break new ground in guitar design. The Terz is a 21 1/2"-scale model meant to be tuned one and a half steps up—G to G—and the Drop Z model, at 26 1/2" scale, is intended for D standard or lower tunings. In the case of these alt-tuned guitars, the instruments are specifically voiced for their tunings, with custom pickups.
“In that quiet solitude of just you and the guitar, this communication can happen that sort of expresses something about yourself that is surprising.”
With all this action—plus signature Yamaha acoustics and his Highland Park, Illinois, café, Madame Zuzu’s, which he owns with his wife, Chloé Mendel—Corgan must be dialing into a deep, super-focused state when working on music, because he’s been prolific. In 2023, the Pumpkins released the epic ATUM: A Rock Opera in Three Acts, the third part of the trilogy that began with the Pumpkins’ smash-hit Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadnessin 1995, followed by 2000’s Machina/The Machines of God. In 2024, the band released Aghori Mhori Mei. Pitched as a stripped-down guitar record, and exempt from the former’s grandiosity, the songs are often riff-centric guitar jams, full of dark, in-your-face tones. But that pitch might belie the album’s rich compositional complexity and intense emotional breadth. Corgan’s writing on Aghori exemplifies all the nuance and finesse of his broader work, as do the dynamic, thoughtful guitar arrangements and hard-hitting performances.
With so much going on, how does Corgan keep his artistic vision focused and in step with the times? How does he find time to tap into the creative essence that has made his music so special? What drives his process? The only way to find out is from Corgan himself.
The Smashing Pumpkins’ Aghori Mhori Mei was pitched as a more stripped-down guitar record, but don’t let that description, fitting as it may be in comparison with their recent work, belie its majesty.
The premise of Aghori was to be more of a stripped-down guitar record. How did you approach this album from a compositional perspective?
Corgan: The idea was to return to the early language of the band and see if it had a modern application. If you were making a movie, it would be akin to: We’re going to shoot this on VHS cameras and edit in an old analog bay and see if you can make something that a modern audience would actually enjoy and appreciate.
The way most rock records are made these days is “in the box,” which is Pro Tools or whatever people use. You can hear that the digital technology is very important to the way modern rock music, whether it’s metal or alternative, is made. It’s become the fifth band member—you know what I’m saying? They’re able to do things and effect changes and musically innovate in a way that you wouldn’t if you were just on a floor with the band playing in a circle, like we used to. So, for us, we could continue down this digital path, and I’m not that interested in gridding out my guitars.
When you go listen to a Pumpkins record, that’s live playing. That’s not all chopped up—99% of what you hear is literally from our hands and mouths—we’ll still fly in a chorus here and there. If you’re at a particular crossroads, do you continue to move forward and with technology as your ally? Or do you kind of go back and see if that old way still has something magical about it? That becomes sort of the existential debate of the record, both internally and publicly, which is: Is there a there, there?
But to clarify, this isn’t an analog recording.
Corgan: We record to Pro Tools. It’s using the technology of Pro Tools to make your records that we don’t do. I’m not trying to make a point. I’m saying using the technologies that are present to write your music or using it to do things that you can’t humanly do—that we don’t do.
Listen to your standard metal record. Everything is gridded to fuck: All the amps are in the box, all the drums are in the box, there’s not a missed note, everything’s tuned to fuck. You know what I mean? That’s modern metal, and I like it. It’s not like I turn up my nose at the thing, but that’s a way of making music for many people in 2024. We decided to try and go back and make a record the old-fashioned way, not to make some sort of analog point.
“There’s a certain loneliness in the way I play because I didn’t have anybody else to play guitar with.”
You write mostly on acoustic and piano. Where do the guitar arrangements come in?
Corgan: The fundamental process, going back to the beginning, is to create the basic track; the vocal then becomes the next most important thing, and then the icing on the cake is the guitar work over the top of that, basically to support and supplement the vocal and create more melodic interaction.
I got a lot of that from Queen and Boston and some Beatles—the idea that the guitar takes on a lead voice of its own that’s distinctive and almost becomes another lead singer in the band.
That stuff doesn’t show up literally until the last day working on the song. It’ll come off wrong, but we don’t spend a ton of time on it. And I don’t know what that means other than it seems to be like everything is done, and then you go, “Okay, time for the guitar work.” You’ll spend three hours, six hours just going through and trying stuff. Then it sort of just appears, and you go, “Oh, that sounds cool,” and you move on. It benefits from being fresh or feeling kind of like an emotional reaction.
I remember being in a car circa 1975 or ’76 and “Killer Queen” by Queen was on the radio. You’re listening to a song, the song sounds cool, and there’s flange vocals, and I’m 10 years old, in the backseat. All of a sudden, that lead break comes in; it’s just fucking loud. It has that feeling of somebody stepping forward into a spotlight. It’s not a show-off thing. It’s the way it makes you feel. It’s like a lighter type of moment. We’ve always chased that feeling.
Billy Corgan's Gear
Corgan with his signature Yamaha LJ16BC in 2022.
Photo by Mike White
Guitars
- E standard: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend Z-One Black
- E backup: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend - Satin Purple Burst
- Eb standard: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend Z-One - Silver Freeze
- Eb backup: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend Z-One - Orchard Pink
- Eb standard: ’70s Gibson ES-335 walnut
- C# standard: Billy Corgan Signature Reverend Drop Z - Pearl White
- Prototype Gibson Firebird
- Billy Corgan Custom Signature Yamaha LJ16BC Black with Silver Star
- Billy Corgan Custom Signature Yamaha White with Black Star
Amps
- Ampete 444 Amplifier & Cabinet Switching System
- Korg DT-1 Rack Tuner
- Carstens Cathedral
- Orange Rockerverb MkIII
- Carstens Grace Billy Corgan Signature Head
- Laney Supergroup LA100SM
- Laney LA412 4x12 Black Country Custom
Pedals
- RJM Mastermind GT/22 MIDI Controller
- Lehle D.Loop
- Warm Audio Warmdrive
- MXR Phase 90
- Catalinbread Zero Point Tape Flanger
- Behringer Octave Divider
- Strymon Brigadier dBucket Delay
- EarthQuaker Devices Time Shadows II
- Custom Audio Electronics MC-403 power supply
Strings
- Ernie Ball Regular Slinky (.010–.046)
- Ernie Ball Power Slinky (.011–.048)
- Ernie Ball Not Even Slinky (.012–.052)
- Ernie Ball Earthwood Medium Light (.012–.054)
Guitar starts out for so many of us as this really personal thing that we spend all our time doing, and then as life gets more complicated, you just have less time. What is your relationship with the guitar like in 2024? Do you have a day-to-day relationship with guitar playing?
Corgan: I do not. I don’t really pick up the guitar much unless I’m working.
When you do pick up the guitar, is it with intent? Do the ideas come inspired by the guitar, inspired by something you play? Or are they up in your head, and then you’re grabbing a guitar to realize it?
Corgan: If I pick up a guitar, I’m looking to play something that surprises me. It’s whatever comes out. And sometimes you hit the wrong chord and go, “Oh, that’s interesting.” Or you find a new inversion or something that you never thought of before. You try to play a different scale run than you’ve played 10,000 times, always landing on the same note. It’s just looking for something just a little bit new. I find oftentimes, in that quiet solitude of just you and the guitar, this communication can happen that sort of expresses something about yourself that is surprising—an emotional feeling or a way of approach.
“You could say to me, ‘Hey, play me some Siamese-type thing that you would’ve done in ’92,’ and in five minutes, I could write you something that would sound like a song that would’ve been a Siamese song in ’92.”
The style of my guitar playing came out of taking care of my disabled brother when I was a teenager, so I was stuck inside a lot. To paint a simple visual, imagine being stuck inside on a summer’s day and watching people play outside through the window as you’re playing the guitar. That was my life for much of my teenage years, because I was in this position where I had to look after somebody who was not so much homebound, but it wasn’t like the type of child at his stage of development that you could take him in the backyard and let him run around. You kind of had to look after him. It often became easier to stick him in front of a television or let him take a nap while you’re practicing.
There’s a certain loneliness in the way I play because I didn’t have anybody else to play guitar with. I developed a style that had a kind of call-and-response aspect to it in the open strings and the drone playing, because it was a way to effect a larger conversation without somebody else in the room.
Then, when it was James [Iha] and I in the early days of the band, James would basically do different versions of what I was playing. That created an even bigger conversation that seemed to create almost like a third guitarist. You can hear that in the whistling harmonics in the background. That’s just two guitars playing, but you create a ghost effect. I’ve done a lot of guitar work in the studio where people would be visiting me, and they look at the speakers, “What’s that sound?” And I’m like, “That’s just two guitars.” They don’t believe me. I literally have to solo the two guitars and just show them. That’s the harmonic effect.
I still have that inner relationship with my playing, where I could just sit down and play and find something that sounds like a bit of a conversation.
The Reverend Billy Corgan Signature in the hands of the man himself alongside drummer Jimmy Chamberlin and guitarist James Iha.
Photo by Ken Settle
When you’re writing, picking up a guitar, looking for those things, like you said, are you still after the same feeling you had initially or has the feeling changed?
Corgan: I think it’s more trying to find something that seems to signify whatever’s happening at the moment. It’s a truthfulness. You could say to me, “Hey, play me some Siamese-type thing that you would’ve done in ’92,” and in five minutes, I could write you something that would sound like a song that would’ve been a Siamese song in ’92. I can dial in any era of the band or my writing at will, because they’re all based on methodologies and certain emotional templates. So, I’m trying to do that for today. What is the 2024 version of that that makes me feel something—anything at all?
There’s this other creative side to your work, which is your signature gear. You have four Reverend guitars, and they’re all very different from each other. You’ve created them with Joe Naylor. Can you tell me about that collaboration?
Corgan: Somehow, Joe is able to go back and listen to what I’m referencing, and then translate that into something that’s physically tangible and consistent.
I don’t think a gimmicky guitar serves anybody. My signature guitars need to be useful to anybody else doing their music, not just my kind of music. And I’m very proud of that. I think that’s what makes a great guitar—it has application to whoever picks it up. And a lot of credit to Reverend to be willing to take these chances that I’ve sort of set them off chasing.
The Reverend Billy Corgan Drop Z is specially voiced in feel and sound for D standard and lower tunings.
They’re all bold guitars, but especially the Terz and the Drop Z, which are built specifically for alternate tunings. What were you looking for when you came up with the idea of those instruments?
Corgan: The thing with the Terz, which is G to G as opposed to E to E—a step and a half higher—was in listening to guitarists like Jonny Greenwood of Radiohead and other guitar players of that generation, I noticed that the function of the guitar for many alternative guitar players was becoming more atmospheric and less elemental. I thought maybe they would like to have a higher tonal range to work in. Because, ultimately, in 2024 logic, you want to get the guitar away from the vocal. If you think of the classic Telecaster sound, well, if you’re playing in the key of G on a Telecaster, that sits exactly where the vocal is. It’s like the worst possible place for a guitar in the 21st century. But if you can increase the harmonic range of the guitar, it does sort of sit, elementally, a little higher.
I don’t think people have figured that out yet about that guitar. But I have a funny feeling that at some point somebody will, much like when Korn took the Steve Vai guitar and took it in a completely different direction and made a whole new genre of music with it. I think the Terz opens a player up to a different tonal range.
“I don’t think a gimmicky guitar serves anybody. My signature guitars need to be useful to anybody else doing their music, not just my kind of music.”
A lot of these modern alternative guitar players, they don’t play super complicated stuff. Whether they were inspired by Jonny from Radiohead or the guy from Coldplay, it’s more like a tweedle-y guitar, like twilight, vibey.... You look at their pedalboards; it’s a lot of reverbs and bucket delays and stuff like that. I get it.
On the Drop—on making Aghori, I found myself thinking a lot about Mick Mars’s guitar sound and where Mick’s guitar sat in Mötley Crüe. Early Mötley Crüe was basically a guitar tuned down a step. Something about the D range—you could do it on a normal guitar, but it gets a little sloppy with the tuning and certainly the intonation. So, I talked to Reverend about making a D-to-D guitar that doesn’t feel like a baritone guitar, that plays and feels very much like an E-to-E guitar, but gives you range. For a modern guitar player who wants to make music that ends up on the radio, the specificities of where that guitar needs to sit tonally and how it would be mixed is what I was thinking of.
So, these are instruments for the modern player who wants to make music that can reach people vis-à-vis what is the media these days—streaming or whatever. If you want to take an old guitar and tune it down to F and all that … I did all that crazy stuff, too. I wouldn’t discourage anybody from doing it. But these are specific instruments with a very specific purpose, primarily for recording.
On “Edin” [from Aghori Mhori Mei], well, that’s that guitar. I think in that song, it’s dropped, so the low string is a C. But you can hear how that guitar sits so forward in the track. That’s a credit to Joe making that guitar exactly what I wanted, and the pickups really doing their job with how it sits in the track.Corgan has an early memory of hearing Brian May’s lead break on “Killer Queen”: “It has that feeling of somebody stepping forward into a spotlight. It’s not a show-off thing. It’s the way it makes you feel. It’s like a lighter type of moment. We’ve always chased that feeling.”
I want to come back to how that affects your playing. You have these instruments that are now specifically voiced to your vision. When they get in your hands and you’re working on something, how do you exploit the sonics of those guitars? Maybe you wrote a song on acoustic, but now you have this instrument that you’ve helped ideate, and you can do stuff that your other guitars can’t. Where does that come in the creative process?
Corgan: I don’t think I have a romantic answer. For me, it’s more about recording accuracy or clarity. If you compare, let’s call it the “Mellon Collie ’95” guitar sound, where we were mostly a half-step down; it’s clear, but it’s very sludgy—a lot of midrange and not a lot of stuff above, say, 17k, because I was using those Lace Sensor pickups. Modern recording; everybody wants the guitar as far forward as you can get it.
These days, I’m mostly using these Carstens amps, which is a Chicago amp-maker, Brian Carstens. I used one amp that he made for me, the Grace, which he does sell, which is kind of a modern take on the Eddie Van Halen brown sound—a ton of gain, but clear. And then he has another amp called Empire, which is more for a metal player. I use that as well. And in some cases, I stack both amps on top of each other by reamping. He has another amp, called Cathedral, which is like a cross between a Fender Twin and a Hiwatt. Again, very clear.
“Modern recording; everybody wants the guitar as far forward as you can get it.”
The best way I can explain it, and this is my poor language-ing, but if I was to take a vintage Marshall plexi and a Les Paul, like a classic amazing guitar sound, and record the riff for “Edin,” and then I was to take my Reverend Drop Z run through a Carstens amp, and you listen to the two tracks, the modern stuff I’m using, the guitar is like six more feet forward in the track; the vintage stuff sounds kind of back there. You can hear it—a little gauzy, a little dark, and the modern stuff is right in your grill. It’s not harsh; it’s not overly midrange-y. It just sounds really good and present.
So that’s the key. Because I play so distinctively that I kind of sound like me whatever you put me through, my focus is more tonal and how it sits in the stereo field.
Are pedals just pragmatic means to achieve a tone? Or is there exploration involved there?
Corgan: Since Siamese Dream, where we famously used the op-amp Big Muff and EHX Micro Synth, and some MXR stuff, the main sound of the band is just crank through something. Going back to something my father told me many, many moons ago: guitar, chord, amp is the key. I worked in the studio with Tony Iommi. Those hands, a chord, an amp—and when he plays, God’s moving mountains. We get super granular when I’m in the studio; I might play a chord that’s no more than seven-feet long, anything so I can be as close to the amp as possible, so there’s the least amount of chord from the guitar to the amp.
It’s all about driving the amp and moving that air and moving those electrons in the tubes. That’s just the key for me. If there’s pedal work on any Pumpkins albums in the last 25 years, it’s for solos and little dinky things on the top. The main guitar sound is always pure power. We want as much pure power as possible.
YouTube It
The Smashing Pumpkins kick out “Sighommi” from Aghori Mhori Meilive on Kimmel with new-hire Kiki Wong joining Corgan and James Iha in the guitar section.
- Railhammer Reveals New Billy Corgan Z-One Pickups ›
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For the first time, Dave Grohl, Pat Smear, and Chris Shiflett discuss their shared 6-string history, breakdown some Foos riffs, and give insight on 30 years of rock and roll.
Over the past 30 years, Foo Fighters have become one of the most influential and important bands in rock and roll. Through countless gigs from clubs and theaters to arenas and stadiums, the trio of Dave Grohl, Pat Smear, and Chris Shiflett have developed a vocabulary that at this point comes together naturally. It’s a shared language that is always present but rarely (if ever) discussed. Until now.
Back in February, the trio convened in Studio 607 for a sitdown that is destined to be an instant classic among Shred with Shiftydiehards. Below are a few excerpts from the conversation—edited for clarity—that hit on what first inspired Dave and Pat to pick up a guitar, why there was so much feedback at Germs gigs, and that one time they ran into Joe Bonamassa at Guitar Center. You can watch the full episode on YouTube, where they break down “Hey, Johnny Park!,” “La Dee Da,” “Rope,” and so much more. — Jason Shadrick
Chris Shiflett: Alrighty, fellas, let's jump into it. You're in the hot seat now.
Dave Grohl: Oh God. Here we go.
Shiflett: Let's start off easy. What are you playing today?
Grohl: This is my signature DG-335 Epiphone and it's fucking rad. Love it. Been playing it on tour.
Pat Smear: It's not even out.
Dave: Is it not out yet?
Smear: No. Only rumors.
Shiflett: For the sake of this interview, it might be out by the time this airs, so we could be in a time machine. Pat, how did you go from being a guy who famously borrowed guitars at Germs gigs, didn't own one of your own, to the man we see here today with a barn full of guitars?
Smear: That's why, because I didn't even have my own guitar, so I'm like, well, now I need two.
Shiflett: … hundred … thousand. [laughs]. What are you playing today?
Smear: I am playing prototype number one, made by Mike McGuire from the Gibson Custom Shop. It's a Mini Barney Kessel Triburst prototype from 2011. May 11th, 2011.
Shiflett: Do you also have a baritone back there?
Smear: I do. My Hagstrom baritones are on tour, so that's my SG baritone. It's a funny guitar. I'm told that it was originally going to be a Buckethead model, his new model, and he just disappeared. So, they put it out as a baritone.
Grohl: He flew the coop?
Shiflett: When you first came back to the Foos, why did you land on a baritone so much of the time? Had you played much baritone prior to that?
Smear: I played one a little bit. I played one on The Color and the Shape album. That sounded great, but I never played it live. But then, what am I going to do? There are already two guitar players. When we were doing Wasting Light, I'm like, “What am I going to fit in here? Well, nobody's playing baritone. I'll pull that out.”
Grohl: And that’s the story of the Foo Fighters. [laughs]
Shiflett: What made you guys want to be guitar players in the first place? Because probably a lot of people don't know that the guitar actually came before drums, right?
Grohl: Yeah. My father was a classically trained flautist, and my mother bought him a nylon-string, which I don't think he ever played, but it sat in the corner of the room like a piece of furniture, and by the time I got to it I was maybe like eight or nine years old and it maybe had two or three strings on it. I picked it up and played “Smoke on the Water” or something like that. I understood where to put my hands on the frets, and then I was like, “wow, this is cool.”
Shiflett: Did you ever take lessons?
Grohl: I took a few lessons when I first started playing, and I was disappointed because I wanted to learn how to play chords so I could play along to things. I could hear the songs and sort of figure them out, but I was stuck with just getting my little-kid stuff together. And then the teacher started to try to teach me classical. I remember he taught me this thing. [plays short classical piece].
Smear: It worked! It's still there.
Grohl: I was like, fuck that shit.
“I don't even know what a good guitar sound is, but I do know when I play an old Trini through the Tone Master, I really have control over what I'm doing.” — Dave Grohl
Shiflett: What about you, Pat? What made you want to be a guitar player?
Smear: It was my sister Ingrid, who is a couple of years older. She had a nylon-string acoustic guitar in the house. I had those forced piano lessons when I was a kid, and I would cry through the whole thing. I hated it so much, and then I picked up the guitar and I'm like, “Oh, well, that's my thing.” But it was really [Alice Cooper’s] Love it to Death. That picture on the back cover. I'm like, I want to do this. I want to play that.
Shiflett: It's funny how that still informs your guitar choices. Who would you consider your primary guitar influences?
Grohl: I really liked Ace Frehley. I mean, I had a Beatles chord book, and that's where I was learning to play chords and stuff, but I never saw footage of the Beatles playing when I was eight or nine. I just thought Ace was so fucking cool looking, and I loved the way he stood, and I loved his Les Paul, and I thought that I could be a guitarist and look like him without all the fucking heels and the makeup and shit.
Smear: I don't know that I had one. I had a bunch. I had all the usual ones, but I thought Mick Ronson was the coolest, but as far as the playing, it was the Alice Cooper guys.
It wasn’t until the band started recording Wasting Light, that Pat Smear dived into the baritone guitar. “What am I going to fit in here?” thought Smear. “Well, nobody's playing baritone. I'll pull that out.”
Shiflett: When did you figure out that you needed a certain kind of gear to make it sound like the record?
Dave: It's funny. My mother bought me a Silvertone, like an old one from Sears with an amp in the case and everything, and it was cool. But then I found out about a distortion pedal. I don't know how, but I think I was in a music store and I saw one, and I said to my mom, I was like, “oh my God, mom, can I get it?” It was 30 bucks. It was an MXR. And I was like, “This is going to make it sound so much better.” And she's like, “Oh, good.” And we buy it and bring it home. After I plugged it in, she was like, “I thought you said it was going to make it sound good!”
Shiflett: It's distorting the sound. [Laughs]
Dave: Yeah, it doesn't sound good.
Shiflett: I had a little solid-state practice amp, and I'd go home and I'd try to play whatever I learned in my lesson and it wouldn't grit up at all. And you'd just kind of be confused. Why doesn't this sound like the Ozzy record? It doesn’t sound right!
Smear: I know! I never knew anything about that part of it.
Grohl: Well, you didn't even have any fucking gear. [Laughs]
Smear: I didn't even have gear. I didn't have a guitar. I didn't have an amp.
Shiflett: What was the time that you showed up at a Germs show and had to borrow somebody else's gear?
Smear: Well, that happened all the time, but the worst one was we were playing with X and I broke my guitar in the first song, and so I'm like, “I need Billy Zoom's guitar!” And, dude, I found out he was hiding in some closet with his guitar saying, “Keep him away from my fucking guitar.” I'm all drunk. I think somebody just taped it back together and we were okay.
Grohl: Is this why there was always so much fucking feedback at Germs gigs? You had no pedals, you would just crank the amp?
Smear: Well, if there was a pedal, I would just step on it and leave it there. And my favorite when I hear old tapes is tuning full volume with the pedal on.
Shiflett: Well, let's talk a little bit about your live rigs that you've gotten nowadays and how that's kind of changed over the years.
Smear: Yeah, Dave, talk about your live rig. [Laughs]
Grohl: Okay, just a disclaimer. I don't know a fucking thing. At first I was playing a Marshall, it was like a JCM 900 or something like that. For the first [Foo Fighters] album, that's what I was playing.
Shiflett: Pedals? No pedals?
Grohl: I really think I only had a RAT pedal and a fucking tuner. I don't think I had any delays or phasers or anything yet. I think I just had a RAT. Then eventually the Mesa/Boogies came along and it was like Dual Rectifiers and 4x12s and that kind of stuff. And then eventually I found one of those [Fender] Tone Masters at Norman’s [Rare Guitars]. And he was like, “These are great, man. This is what Aerosmith used on all of their cool shit.” I've stuck with them ever since. And the thing is that, I mean, I don't even know what a good guitar sound is, but I do know when I play an old Trini through that, I really have control over what I'm doing. I don't have any volume pedals or anything like that. I've got four channels of clean to dirty.
Shiflett: You do have a pretty straightforward live set up. Not a ton of pedals, just phaser and delay and a couple of things.
Grohl: And I can roll [the volume knob] a lot. I mean, that's the thing with the Trini is that they're kind of reactive. They're dynamic and you can make them do …
Shiflett: It leaves a lot in your hands.
Grohl: It does. And especially when you're running around the stage and I don't have 20 seconds to get back to a pedalboard, then I could just roll up and down and just do it in the hands.
“But it was really [Alice Cooper’s] Love it to Death. That picture on the back cover. I'm like, I want to do this. I want to play that.” — Pat Smear
Shiflett: It's interesting. When I joined the band I was playing through a Dual Rectifier and I think you were playing through a Dual Rectifier live, but I was surprised to learn that for Nothing Left to Lose you had used the Trini and old vintage AC-30s and Memory Man, and Hiwatts, so your studio thing and your live thing were very different.
Grohl: I remember having that conversation with my guitar tech at the time, and the justification was basically, if one of those things goes down while we're on the road, we're kind of screwed. And so the Rectifiers were really consistent and you didn't have a lot of problems with them, and if you needed to find another one, they were easy to find.
Smear: And they'd send them like that. [snaps fingers]
Grohl: Yeah, they'd be really quick. And we were just doing that because we were blazing through gigs so much.
Shiflett: I don't remember which tour cycle it was, but there was just a point where when you got that Tone Master and I came in with a Friedman and a something else or an AC, I forget what it was, all of a sudden it went from that to this completely other tone thing live.
Smear: We all had the Mesas.
Grohl: I think we had gotten to the point where we all had sort of three different sounds and three different duties in the band, and so we all started to focus more on that.
Both Grohl and Shiflett are armed with their respective signature guitars. Grohl’s recently released Epiphone DG-335 has been long requested by fans, while Shiflett’s Tele Deluxe will soon get a refresh.
Shiflett: I never had any effect pedals until I joined the band. Can you believe that?
Grohl: Wow.
Shiflett: Never, never played with a delay pedal or a flanger or any of that stuff in my life. And when we first started doing those rehearsals and there were songs like “Aurora” and “Generator” and stuff that had some color, that was when I had to first learn how to do that.
Grohl: I think that a lot of what we do comes from the studio. When we go in to record songs, the basic idea is usually pretty simple and we'll pull that together and then we start to color it with different things, different sections of the song, different effects, different tones, and things like that. And also the arrangement or composition of the three of us doing what we do since we don't want to just do the same thing all the time. I think it took 15 or 20 years for us to figure out the recipe or combination of what we do.
Shiflett: I wanted to talk to you about, “Hey, Johnny Park!” I remember when I bought that record, putting that song on and the big drums came in and then the guitars kicked in, it's like a guitar solo and there wasn't a lot of that in your music, and there really wasn't a lot of that even in alternative rock at that time. I was listening to the recorded version last night and it sounds like maybe it's like a Big Muff or something in that part? Do you remember what guitars you were playing? What amps, pedals, all that sort of stuff?
Grohl: I'm sure on that I was playing through a combination of amps. I think one was old Marshall. I think another might've been a Hiwatt. I don't remember what we had in there.
Smear: The only amp I remember was when you used that smokey cigarette amp. I don't even remember what song it was. But you used that on something.
Shiflett: What was your main go-to guitar back then?
Grohl: I was using the Trini a lot.
Shiflett: Oh, you had it even back then?
Grohl: Yeah, I got the Trini before Foo Fighters. I got it at this place called Southworth Guitars in Bethesda, Maryland, and there was a row of 335s and they're all red. They all kind of looked the same. And then there was this one with this different headstock and it had these diamond f-holes. I knew nothing about it. I didn't know anything about Trini Lopez. And it turned out great. It's the same one that I've used on fucking everything.
Shiflett: How many Trinis do you have? Vintage old ones?
Grohl: Maybe like five or six of them.
Shiflett: I didn't know if you were the Joe Bonamassa of Trinis.
Grohl: No, I’m not the Joe Bonamassa of anything.
Shiflett: I bet Joe Bonamassa is probably the Joe Bonamassa of Trinis. [Laughs.] That reminds me. My favorite guitar shopping moment with Pat was when we were making the last album and we were sitting there and we ran over to the rock and roll Guitar Center, and we went into the vintage room and we're looking at guitars.
Smear: Was Bonamassa there taking apart a Strat?
Shiflett: Yes, but the part that always sticks in my head is there was a 1997 Les Paul and they called it “vintage.” I was like, what? Really? God, how fucking vintage are we? [Laughs.]
Grohl: I just think we’re “used.”The Meteora’s upscale second outing has a lot more in common with its offset siblings than its sleek modern looks imply—and that’s a wonderful thing.
Excellent array of tones, from heavy to bluesy, indie, and funky. Great playability.
Pricey. Knobs feel somewhat rough. On-the-fly contour adjustments take some getting used to.
$2,249
Fender American II Meteora
fender.com
When Fender debuted the Meteora body shape in 2018 (as the Parallel Universe Meteora), I was among those who immediately thought it looked like a pretty worthy addition to the company’s venerated line of “offset” guitars. Taken in hand, though, the guitar may have struck some as having a bit of an identity crisis—which may account for the changes we see in the third iteration, the new American Ultra II.
All Metoras feature an intriguing blend of classic Fender elements (Strat-style headstock, Jazzmaster/Jaguar-esque outline) and in the case of the Player Plus Meteora HH and the American Ultra II, more Gibson-like appointments (humbuckers and 3-way selector). But whereas the Telecaster-like Parallel Universe model and Player Plus HH leaned a little more retro, the American Ultra II both tilts more modern and fine-tunes some of the original’s tonal quirks and limitations.
Diverging Contours
Available in three finishes (here we’ve got Texas Tea), the latest Meteora has Fender’s new Haymaker humbuckers, with exposed coils and matching pickup rings, that alongside the anodized aluminum pickguard and knurled metal knobs, lend a more hard rock/metal aesthetic than the original Meteora’s WideRange-styled pickups and brighter finish options. (The new avalanche and ultraburst finishes in particular, with their white and crème pickups, respectively, are reminiscent of ’70s and ’80s DiMarzio-outfitted rock machines.) Having demoed the Player Plus Meteora HH inPG’s First Look video, I’ll admit I prefer that series’ looks. But there’s no arguing that both fundamental tones and the myriad permutations proffered by the American Ultra II’s unusual tone-control array feel much more useful and well thought out this time around.
Wait, “unusual?” If you’ve googled this guitar, chances are you’ve seen the same conflicting information I found. Some sites say it has two tone controls, others (including the manufacturer’s at publication time) list a master volume, a master tone, and a bass-contour knob. Upon plugging in and twiddling knobs, though, I was immediately confused and, honestly, initially not very impressed. So I looked through the case, found the manual, and finally came to the truth: The Meteora is actually devoid of traditional tone controls, using instead a master volume, a bass-contour knob (nearest the output jack), anda treble-contour knob (middle). This setup was a first for me. Also, unlike the Jaguar, the alder-bodied Meteora has a standard Fender-scale 25.5" maple neck, with an ebony fretboard and employs the company’s “modern D” profile. There’s a Graph Tech TUSQ nut, too, and sealed locking tuners.More Offset Than Meets the Eye
I tested the American Ultra II with an EL34-powered Jaguar HC50 (with a ceramic-magnet Weber Gray Wolf), a ’76 Fender Vibrolux Reverb (with alnico Celestion G10 Golds), a KT66-driven Sound City SC30, and a bunch of drive, fuzz, delay, and reverb pedals. Through the two latter amps combined, the Meteora II’s contour controls proved most powerful, yielding a pretty astonishing array of sounds—particularly with fuzz pedals. With the traditional control scheme on my favorite offset (and main band guitar, a Jaguar with Curtis Novak JAG-V pickups), I primarily use the lead circuit’s tone knob (or the rhythm circuit) to tame fuzz pedals—and I find that setup more versatile than a lot of other guitars. But the Meteora’s contour knobs take things much further, letting you effectively revoice filth pedals in ways otherwise only possible with an adjacent EQ pedal.
With both contours full up, the Haymaker pickups still lean brighter than some dual-’bucker fans might prefer—but not as strident as the Player Plus units. And the bass contour is especially helpful for warming/toughing up the bridge unit, as well as cleaning up low-mid clutter you might encounter with the neck pickup soloed and dimed. With a clean-ish tone and both pickups engaged, dialing volume and both contours back a bit yields wiry, muscular funk tones. Boost the volume back up a bit and hit the S-1 coil tap, and you get leaner funk tones very much in the Strat realm. In all, the variety of sounds possible with this control scheme is almost revelatory. So much so that it’s a wonder more guitars don’t go this route—because you’re no longer limited to just darkening or lightening a pickup with a single knob. The crossover EQ points between the two controls are well-tuned to complement each other and open up possibilities you simply couldn’t get with standard tone controls. And the treble-bleed circuit assures that volume adjustments don’t muddy things up.
The Verdict
Whether the tweaks to the American Ultra II Meteora alleviate its somewhat vague positioning is up for debate. Fender offset fans tend to fall in either the traditionalist/vintage camp or the more modern “I like the shape but not the weird switches and hardware” camp. And, to most eyes, the Ultra II probably looks pretty modern despite the vintage neck and headstock tint. But tonally, even though the control scheme looks straightforward, the array of available tones is far more akin to the versatility afforded by Jaguar and Jazzmaster circuits than, say, a modern rock guitar. It is a bit of a bummer that the Ultra costs twice as much as the Player Plus HH (albeit with hardshell case) but has no vibrato option. Considering its sheer tonal quality and versatility, the latest Meteora absolutely has the edge over its predecessor—but I’d love to see future versions fully embrace their offset-ness with a vibrato system befitting the Meteora’s sonic forebears.
Discover the iconic Mary Ford Les Paul Standard in Goldtop finish, a tribute to the trailblazing music icon and her groundbreaking partnership with Gibson legend Les Paul.
“I am thrilled that Mom is receiving this recognition for her talents,” says Mary Colleen Wess(daughter of Mary Ford and Les Paul). “I wish she was still with us to enjoy this wonderful honor, which she so richly deserves. Thank you so much, Gibson!”
Through her successful early career in country music and her connections with Gene Autry and Eddie Dean, Mary Ford--who was born Iris Colleen Summers on July 7, 1924--developed a musical partnership with Gibson icon Les Paul that led to their marriage in 1949. In 1951 alone, the duo sold over six million records, and between 1950 and 1954, they recorded a string of 16 top-ten hits that showcased Mary’s rich, smooth voice, complex, perfectly executed harmonies that she sang along with herself through multi-track recording, and overdubbing (a groundbreaking recording technique for the time), while her versatile guitar playing seamlessly blended country, jazz, and pop.
Mary Ford Les Paul Standard Goldtop - YouTube
Gibson Mary Ford Les Paul Standard Electric Guitar - Gold Top with Cherry Back
M.Ford LP Std, Gld Top/Chry BackAdd a splash of motion and mystery to a flat amp with this simple, streamlined, vintage-flavored tremolo and reverb stomp.
Simplicity and utility. Lively spring reverb simulation. Smart, spacious control layout. Nicely dovetailed modulation and reverb tones.
Can’t use harmonic tremolo or vibrato with spring reverb simulation.
$229
Keeley Zoma Stereo Reverb And Tremolo
keeley.com
There are days I plug into myFender Vibrolux, play an E minor chord with a little vibrato arm flourish, and ask, “What more could I ever need?” The simple, elegant perfection of Fender’s reverb and tremolo formula is so foundational, essential, and flat-out delicious to the senses that it gave rise to a class of pedals that consolidate the essence of that recipe.
The most famous of these is probably theStrymon Flint, a tool widely adopted by touring players that deal with changing backlines and players that make do with simpler amplifiers. While the Flint is an industry standard of sorts, at almost 350 bucks it’s also a serious investment. Less expensive alternatives include Fender’s own Tre-Verb (which uses a design and layout strikingly similar to the Flint) as well as Keeley’s excellent U.S.-made Hydra Stereo Tremolo and Reverb and their simpler, less-expensive Verb o Trem, which lacks independent switches for the two effects. But for players that like a more spacious control layout and independent reverb and tremolo switches—and are willing to sacrifice a few options to save about $120—Keeley’s new Zoma might be the most enticing Flint alternative out there.
Form Leads to Function
The Zoma is built into the same enclosure and uses the same control layout as theI Get Around rotary simulator and California Girls 12-string simulator Keeley built in collaboration with JHS Pedals and Benson Amps to honor the Beach Boys. Though destined to annoy space-economy fetishists, the Zoma’s dimensions should be little problem for those who keep their pedal effects to a minimum. The larger enclosure also offers lots of upside in the form of the spacious control layout, which facilitates fast adjustments on the fly. The sizable RCA-style knobs, particularly the big reverb level control, make adjustments with your toe easy. The blue Fender-style jewel lamp—which also blinks at the tremolo’s rate—is situated between the already well-spaced reverb and tremolo bypass switches to ensure that even the klutziest performer can avoid pressing one or both accidentally.
“The plate reverb leaves more space for the beautiful, liquid modulations from the harmonic tremolo and vibrato.”
A small 3-way toggle nestled safely among the three knobs moves between the Zoma’s three basic modes and voices: spring reverb with sine wave tremolo (the black-panel Fender formula), a plate-style reverb with brown-panel Fender-style harmonic tremolo, and plate-style reverb with more Magnatone-like pitch vibrato. The single toggle means you can’t combine different tremolo types with different reverb types as you can with the Flint. But by pressing and holding the reverb/alt switch, you can orient the tremolo after the reverb in black-panel Fender style or place the tremolo before the reverb for a thicker, blurrier tone. You can also change the reverb decay level, reverb tone, or the tremolo output level in alt mode.
Pipelines and Sines
You’d have to be pretty nitpicky to take issue with Zoma’s likeness to real spring reverb. The pings and clicks that follow transients in the Zoma’s spring simulation are particularly authentic compared to the Vibrolux and Fender Reverb tank I used for comparison. And given the possible variation that exists among vintage Fender reverb units, thanks to age, wear, and component value drift, the Zoma’s output falls well within the realm of “accurate.” The primary difference I heard in the Fenders was a little extra harmonic thickness and ghostliness in the decay at the highest reverb levels—but that was at pretty high volume and in isolation. Would you hear it with a bass and drums filling out that harmonic picture? Maybe. Would it spoil the evening of paying customers out to stomp to your instrumental surf combo? I kinda doubt it. And if the Zoma spring is ever-so-slightly less thick than the real deal, it’s still easy to excite and add splash to those harmonics—or make them more subdued—with the Zoma’s alt-mode reverb tone control, which you’re only going to find elsewhere on an outboard Fender Reverb unit. The plate reverb settings are a little more vaporous, diffuse, and lack the post-transient attack you hear at advanced spring settings. But they leave more space for dynamics—most importantly the beautiful, liquid modulations from the harmonic tremolo and vibrato that accompany them.
The harmonic tremolo is especially pretty and adds lovely dimension to lazy chord melodies. The vibrato is excellent, too—throbbing and wobbly without being overpowering at its most intense levels and capable of adding dreamy drift at subdued settings. The sine wave tremolo, by the way, is a great match for the spring reverb. There are bolder, bossier tremolos out there, but it’s a close match for the optical tremolo in most mid-1960s Fender combos, which are not always wildly forceful themselves.
The Verdict
The Zoma can be a very transformative pedal—adding splashes of surfy energy to a Marshall or big-amp presence to a Fender Champ. In terms of utility and approachability, about the only thing that rivals the Zoma is an amp with onboard tremolo and reverb. But even with the real thing you’ll probably lack the pretty harmonic tremolo, the vibrato, and the plate reverb options that extend the Zoma’s color palette. Do I wish I could mix the vibrato and harmonic tremolo with the spring reverb? After a few hours of getting used to the characteristics of each, I do. But it wouldn’t be a deal breaker if I was going to use this pedal in performance or in a recording session where I could also take advantage of the stereo capabilities. The Zoma is a mood machine par excellence that’s also a breeze to use.