
A pair of new, mighty Sunn 100S amps—the company’s original flagship amplifier—built by the new team led by James Lebihan, Mike Eldred, and Steve Skillings.
Since forming to help early garage rockers the Kingsmen bring their hit “Louie Louie” on the road, Sunn amps have roared behind everyone from Jimi Hendrix to Leslie West to Kurt Cobain to the doom-metal act that bears their name. After laying dormant for decades, the brand is back and the new team promises to live up to its legendary reputation.
“Have you ever considered covering ‘Louie Louie,’” I ask Stephen O’Malley over Zoom. The doom-metal guitarist and half of the band Sunn O))) is a native of Seattle but has lived the past 20 years in Paris, France. “I see where you’re going with this,” O'Malley chuckles, and says, “but we’re not a rock ’n’ roll band. Still, the Kingsmen and Conrad Sundholm building a bass amp for his brother—that’s a legendary Northwest story.”
In 1963, the Portland, Oregon-based Kingsmen found themselves near the very top of the charts behind what would become a garage-rock standard, the immortal “Louie Louie.” The Kingsmen’s bass player, Norman “Norm” Sundholm, and his brother, Conrad Sundholm, simultaneously became seminal figures in developing an amplifier line that would eventually become the sonic foundation of the doom-metal music artists like Stephen O’Malley play. In between, the amps became a crucial sound in classic rock.
The Kingsmen’s version of “Louie Louie” [written by Richard Berry] sat in the Billboard Hot 100 chart for 18 weeks, peaking at number two. Suddenly, everyone wanted to see the band live, and they hit the road, playing on stages all over the country. PA systems geared toward high fidelity for rock ’n’ roll concerts were still several years away, and Norm Sundholm needed a bass amp that could stand up to the rigors of the road and be loud and clear enough for the concert halls and gymnasiums hosting the Kingsmen.
Norm’s brother, Conrad, was a high school physics teacher and an electronics wizard. The siblings rolled up their sleeves together to build a bass amp for the Kingsmen’s first big tour. According to an interview Norm gave to NAMM in 2019, they first modified a 26-watt Fender Bandmaster, replacing the speakers with JBLs and adding a preamp stage using an off-the-shelf amplifier manufactured by Dynaco. Using their surname as inspiration, they called the 60-watt amp a Sunn.
Hot on the heels of their hit single “Louie Louie,” the Kingsmen needed more amp power. Bassist Norm Sundholm turned to his brother Conrad, who started the Sunn brand with this early model.
Photo from the collection of Bill Eberline
Norm Sundholm declined to be interviewed for this piece, and Conrad Sundholm died in 2021, but his son, Steve Sundholm,fills in what came next: “Uncle Norm gave out my dad’s number to fans at Kingsmen shows who heard this amp and wanted to buy one. So my dad started getting random calls from people around the country asking how they could purchase a Sunn amp.” By about 1965, Conrad borrowed $1,300 from his credit union to begin building speaker cabinets and cobbling together new Sunn amps. Partly using Dynaco components and employing JBL speakers, early models included the 100S for guitar and the 200S for bass. Throughout 1963 and 1964, Conrad Sundholm built Sunn amps in his garage.
During downtime from Kingsmen tours, Norm went on the road in search of retailers to carry the Sunn line. While on tour, he met Bill Eberline, an 18-year-old disc jockey from Michigan, and hired him to be the company’s first sales rep. Eberline worked in 18 states east of the Mississippi, setting up retailers. Now 79 years old, Eberline tells me, “For me, Sunn was a passion, and the reason it was a passion was because the amps and the cabinets were so good. I loved the look on a musician's face when they plugged in for the first time and turned it up.” The secret, he says, was not only the amplifiers’ power and tone, but also the unique design of the speaker cabinets.
“The speaker cabinets for our bass amp, the 200S, were called rear-loaded, folded-horn, bass-reflex enclosures,” he explains. “So the speaker comes in from the back, there’s baffling inside, and the speaker is tuned to the cabinet. So you get the most out of it; you’re getting as much sound off the back as you’re getting off the front. I used to demonstrate it to people using a match. I’d put a lit match in front of the speaker, and it would blow the match out. Other speakers had open backs, so you were losing all that sound. And it gave it an incredible punch. It was the best bass speaker cabinet, at the time, that had ever been built.”
After sitting dormant for more than two decades, the Sunn brand has been resurrected by a new team that promises to stick to the company’s core construction techniques while addressing the needs of modern players. This cab is classic Sunn.
“We started going from music store to music store, unloaded them out of the van, and wheeled them into shops,” Norm Sundholm told NAMM. “It was a little tough with the franchise Fender dealers, but any competing store was wide open to take the line.”
It was Bill Eberline who brought one of Sunn’s biggest retailers to the party: Manny’s Music in New York City. Manny’s was the epicenter of Manhattan’s music retailers row on West 48th Street. About 10 different shops lined the block between 6th and 7th Avenues, making it simple to stumble from one to another. From Jimi Hendrix to Jimmy Page, all the premier guitarists of the day shopped there.
“I used to demonstrate it to people using a match. I’d put a lit match in front of the speaker, and it would blow the match out.” —Bill Eberline
“At first, Manny’s wasn’t interested,” Eberline recalls. “And Manny himself eventually kicked me out of the store; I was hanging out there all day with this big amplifier. But as I was leaving, one of his competitors across the street saw me and the amp, and he called me over. He said to me, ‘Listen, kid. [Eberline was 20 years old at the time.] Have your factory ship me a bunch of empty boxes with the Sunn logo.’ And I did! He put these out on the street in front of his shop like they were trash, as if he had ordered a bunch of our amps.” Soon after seeing the boxes, Manny’s placed an $80,000 order. That huge sale, in 1965, gave Sunn enough capital to move into a bigger manufacturing space, which Steve Sundholm tells me was his grandfather’s garage. “It was big, like the size of a boathouse,” he says.
Inside the garage, Sunn built tube guitar and bass amps such as the 60-watt 100S and 200S, and the 120-watt 1000S and 2000S, as well as the solid-state 100-watt Beta series and the 300-watt (at 2 ohms) Coliseum. The amps quickly became known for their volume, punch, and ability to deliver an articulate bottom end, and they became increasingly more visible on high-profile stages. Noel Redding, playing bass in the Jimi Hendrix Experience, used six Sunn speaker cabinets and three amp heads in June 1967 at the Monterey Pop Festival. Sunn amps were also seen and heard in the backlines of Led Zeppelin, the Who, and Cream. Hendrix most likely purchased his Sunn gear at Manny’s Music. Eberline remembers, “Jimi played through two of our most powerful amps daisy-chained together—the 1000S, double the power of the regular [100S] amp, and it used four KT88 tubes. He put that through four Sunn cabinets with two 15-inch speakers in each cab.”
The Model T, one of the most coveted amps to bear the Sunn name, was created during Tom Hartzell’s ownership of the company. This is one of the many employed by Sunn O))) guitarists Stephen O’Malley and Greg Anderson.
Photo by Chris Kies
In August 1969, Eberline trucked Sunn amps to Woodstock, where they appeared behind Felix Pappalardi and Leslie West of Mountain on their Saturday evening set. That got Eberline into trouble. The roadies at Woodstock kept all the loaned amps, Sunn lost the inventory, and Eberline was fired.
James Lebihan is the CEO of the newly relaunched Sunn brand. He takes the history further, telling me over Zoom, “Everybody used Sunn gear—the Beach Boys, the Allman Brothers, and the Jeff Beck Group. Even later, bands like Queen used Sunn amps.” The Rolling Stones considered endorsing Sunn amps. However, according to the book Rolling Stones Gear by Andy Babiuk and Greg Prevost, the Stones’ shipment of amps was damaged in transit, and the endorsement never materialized.
The common denominator for the bands embracing Sunn was the desire for an overdriven tone with a lot of bottom end. In other words, the sound was heavy. Their tone was perfect for early metal and hard-rock artists like Black Sabbath and Mountain. West used a Sunn speaker cabinet to record their iconic “Mississippi Queen” at the Record Plant in New York City.
In 1972, a few years after leaving their dad’s boathouse-size garage and opening a factory in Tualatin, Oregon, the Sundholm brothers sold their company to a manufacturer named Tom Hartzell. Although a few of Sunn’s best models emerged during that period—including the iconic, tube-driven, 150-watt Model T—the Hartzell years are considered by many to be somewhat lost. Eberline says, “I left before they sold the company, but those new guys did not know what they were doing, in my opinion.” Hartzell was not a music-business guy and didn’t quite grasp the industry’s economics. Then, in 1977, he perished in a plane crash.
The magic of the Sunn Beta Lead and Bass amps was in their preamps. Here’s a current rackmount-ready version of that famed preamp unit, from the new Sunn factory.
Not much happened after Hartzell’s passing, and the brand lay dormant until Fender purchased Sunn in 1985, just as punk rock and metal split into genres, including hardcore, doom metal, and grunge. Sunn amps were embraced by guitarists like the Melvins’ Buzz Osborne and Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain. That’s when Stephen O’Malley first became aware of them. “I was into hardcore and death metal,” he remembers. “I was15 years old, and I saw the Melvins. They burst my brain open. Joe Preston is on bass, and Buzz Osborne is playing two full Sunn stacks with two Sunn Beta Leads. That was the first time I heard loud guitar where it was ripping the air apart, and you feel it in your body.” O’Malley also recalls seeing Northwest heavy rockers Karp using a Model T, and he praises that amp’s ability to be adapted to a genre like doom metal.
“We modify them,” he explains. “We put in special tubes, and we’re able to change the bias of the amps. We take out what we don’t need, like the line out, and we take out the circuit breaker and replace it with a fuse. The Model T allows me to have less breakup in the preamp section and more headroom. It becomes more about speaker distortion and power-tube overdrive than high-input gain.”
The essential, blue-ribbon quality of the Model T—even unmoded—is how it works with overdrive and fuzz effects. The extraordinary transparency and headroom of these amps allows the sonic character of these pedals to take on enormous, growling dimensions—so they become almost supernatural versions of themselves.
Was it only the tone driving these later Northwest-based bands toward Sunn Amps? Perhaps not. Sunn had long been an Oregon company, so there were a lot of cheap, used Sunn amps sitting around in guitar shops from Portland to Seattle. Lebihan explains it this way, “When these guys were getting started, and they were teenagers, and they were in school, and they didn’t have any money, they could find these Beta Leads and Model Ts in pawn shops.” Stephen O’Malley tells me that his partner in Sunn O))), Greg Anderson, found his first Model T at a swap meet in Seattle—a vinyl dealer left it sitting under a table of records.
No band has taken the term “amp worship” more literally than Sunn O))), seen here leading service in front of a wall that consists mostly of Sunn amps.
Photo by Mike White
The steep headroom, high-gain, tube-driven 100S, 200S, Model T, and solid-state Beta line of bass and guitar heads are now considered the pinnacle of the original line. O’Malley claims some amount of credit for this: “They’re a mythical amplifier now, but I don’t know if they would be if it weren’t for our band and the scene around our band—like Wino Weinrich from the Obsessed, he played them, too.”
“I was 15 years old, and I saw the Melvins. They burst my brain open…. Buzz Osbourne is playing two full Sunn stacks with two Sunn Beta leads. That was the first time I heard loud guitar where it was ripping the air apart, and you feel it in your body.” —Stephen O’Malley
Until recently, Fender’s ownership would not be considered a new golden age for Sunn; not much happened. Fender did drop a Model T reissue, but that amp shared virtually none of the same circuitry as its Hartzell-era predecessor. Strangely, Fender actually built some electric guitars—using the Mustang and Strat names—overseas under the Sunn brand. But overall, the brand languished, making the vintage gear rare and sought-after in the used market.
Lebihan tells me that many have tried to get Fender to relaunch Sunn since the brand was discontinued in 2002. Still, it was only when he came to the table in 2023 and brought Mike Eldred and Steve Skillings with him that Fender executives finally sat up in their chairs and made a deal to relaunch Sunn. This triumvirate brings decades of musical marketing skills to the party: Lebihan had a background in tech before becoming a serial entrepreneur in the music world; Eldred was on the team that put the Fender Custom Shop on the map in the mid ’90s; and Skillings came from a background at Bose, where, among other things, he was on the Bose L1 team—the group that created the ubiquitous skinny-speaker PA systems popular with buskers, garage jammers, and wedding bands.
Together, this team has big plans for Sunn, and early on they ran a Wefunder campaign in which 288 enthusiasts were able to support the new Sunn company in exchange for discounts on amps and branded swag like t-shirts and pint glasses. The cash, says Skillings, is fueling costs for tooling and other early manufacturing requirements. “There’s a lot of costs associated with ramping up this kind of product,” he notes. “Just to do a mold for a knob, for example, costs $5,000.”
“There are cheaper ways to manufacture these things that would make it ‘not Sunn.’ And I see them going out of their way to recreate it as faithfully as possible without making it the cost of a mortgage payment to the customer.” —Steve Sundholm
And they’re preparing to drop new generations of amps in the near future. Not only will Sunn’s popular tube amps be back, but they’re also creating solid-state bass heads and new cabinets. And they plan to push well beyond what Sunn has been known for for 60 years. Mike Eldred is visibly excited when he says, “We’ve got a Beta combo amp coming up for preorder very soon. And we’re going to continue pushing into the combo market and beyond. You have a lot of folks now who don’t want to lug around a heavy 150-watt amp and products are coming out now that reflect that, where your amp is on your pedalboard. We’re going to go after that market aggressively.”
The essence of the modern Sunn 100S.
One thing everyone is curious about is the future of the Model T, the amp most heavily embraced by O’Malley, Anderson, and other doom-metal axe grinders. That’s something the new Sunn team is rethinking very carefully. The Model T offers a singular tone, but in today’s live music environment, where portability and low-wattage amps rule, it’s a bit of a dinosaur. Eldred says, “There’s no reason why you can’t take the tone stack of a Model T and pare it down into something like a 20-watt version of the amp.”
Steve Sundholm became a board member of the new Sunn brand after his dad passed away. He tells me that at the end of his dad’s life, Conrad knew Sunn was coming back. “He told me, ‘Man, I hope they do it right.’ Not ‘They better do it right,’ just ‘I hope they do.’” Steve is convinced that his dad would be proud of this relaunch. “I’ve seen their plans,” he says, “and I really feel like they are going above and beyond to do it right. For example, they’re building the same closed-back cabinet style as the vintage speakers. There are cheaper ways to manufacture these things that would make it ‘not Sunn.’ And I see them going out of their way to recreate it as faithfully as possible without making it the cost of a mortgage payment to the customer.”
O’Malley, who considers the amps in his backline “members” of his group, also looks forward to checking out the upcoming line and what the new Sunn team is doing. He says, “I understand that they are building the new amps to original specs; I’m really curious about them.” Even still, a “Louie Louie” cover from Sunn O))) to connect the dots probably won’t materialize.
There’s no doom-metal band out there I can find who’s covered the Kingsmen’s signature tune, although both Motörhead and Black Flag have taken great, heavy shots at it. Perhaps they may have even used Sunn amps in the process. As Sunn rises again, illuminating the musical landscape once more, the chance for new riffs and powerful sounds to come from this brand is brighter than ever.
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The Brian May Gibson SJ-200 12-string in the hands of the artist himself.
Despite a recent health scare, guitarist Brian May cannot be stopped. With the Queen reissue project, he’s celebrating his legacy, and with his new SJ-200—a limited edition signature Gibson acoustic guitar—he looks to the future.
Long lasting instrumental relationships are something we love to root for. Neil Young and Old Black, Willie Nelson and Trigger—those are inseparable pairings of artist and instrument where, over the course of long careers, those guitars have been shaped, excessively in both cases, by the hands that play them. Eddie Van Halen went steps beyond with Frankenstein, assembling the guitar to his needs from the get-go. But few rock ’n’ roll relationships imbue the kind of warm-and-fuzzy feelings as the story of Brian May and his dad building Red Special, the very instrument that hung around his neck for his rise to superstardom and beyond.
Together, with a legion of Vox AC30s and a few effects, May and his homemade Red Special have created some of the richest, most glorious guitar sounds that have ever been documented. It is with that guitar in his hands that he’s crafted everything from his velveteen guitar orchestras to his frenetic riffs and luxuriant harmonies to his effortlessly lyrical leads, which matched the dramatic melodic motifs of Freddie Mercury in one of the most dynamic lead singer/guitarist pairings in rock music.
Although it has a smaller role in his body of work, overshadowed by such an accomplished, prolific electric guitar C.V., May’s acoustic playing is a major part of the story of his music. His bold opening strums of “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” are some of the most recognizable D-major chords in the classic-rock canon, and his supportive work on “Spread Your Wings” adds lush dimension between Freddie Mercury’s arpeggiated piano chords and his rich electric guitarmonies. The multi-tracked 12-string figure that opens “’39”—his “cosmic folk song”—is among his most recognizable.
It’s a surprise, then, that when I ask May about the acoustic guitars used while recording with Queen, the most notable is his Hallfredh acoustic, a “cheap as hell” guitar from a virtually unknown brand. “My little old acoustic, which I swapped with my dear friend at school,” he reminisces. “The strings were so low on it that everything buzzed like a sitar. I capitalized on that and put pins on it instead of the bridge saddles, and you can hear that stuff on ‘The Night Comes Down’ [from Queen]. I used it all the way through Queen’s recordings, like on ‘Jealousy’ [from Jazz] years later and lots of things.” He also recalls his Ovation 12-string and some others, but the Hallfredh remains in the foreground of his acoustic memories.
The cosmic inlays on the Brian May SJ-200 represent the rock legend’s work in the field of astrophysics, in which he holds a PhD.
In recent years, May has been performing the 1975 ballad and emotional Mercury vehicle “Love of My Life,” which appears on A Night at the Opera, as an acoustic tribute to the late singer. May and his acoustic 12-string sit center stage each night as he leads the crowd through a heartwarming rendition of the song, joined at its climax by a video of Mercury. For that powerful, commanding moment, he’s relied on “a number of guitars we won’t mention, but it just came to the point where I’m thinking, ‘This isn’t sounding as good as I would like it to.’”
At one concert, a Gibson representative who was around piped up and offered to make him a guitar to his specs specifically for this piece. “I was surprised that they would notice me in the first place,” May recalls, “because part of me never grew up.” A surprising take from a rock star of such stature, but he explains, “I’m still a kid who was reading the Gibson catalogs and not able to afford anything, seeing the SGs and the Les Pauls and dreaming of being able to own a Gibson guitar. I now have a couple of the SGs, which I absolutely love, but, of course, I made my own guitar and I now have my own guitar company, so I went a different way. But to me this was a joy that they would offer to make me a guitar, which I could take out onstage.”
After building one for the guitarist, Gibson created a limited edition run of 100 instruments of the new model, called the Brian May SJ-200 12-string. Featuring a AAA Sitka spruce top with a vintage sunburst finish, AAA rosewood back and sides, a 2-piece AAA maple neck with walnut stringer, and a rosewood fretboard, it’s a top-of-the-line acoustic. The most noticeable feature on the SJ-200 is probably the string arrangement, which is flipped—as is most commonly found on Rickenbacker 12-strings—with the lower string above the higher string in each course. May has made that modification on other 12s, because he likes to string the high string first when fingerpicking. “You get an incredibly pure sound that way,” he points out. “‘Love of My Life’ is a good example—if it’s strung the other way, it sounds very different.”
On its pickguard, all seven of the other planets in our solar system are etched. The shaded one, close at hand, is Mercury, a tribute to the Queen singer.
May’s aesthetic customizations draw from his astrophysics work and add a personal sparkle to the large-bodied acoustic. The pickguard features a custom design with the seven other planets in the system, which is to say, not Earth. Mercury sits close at hand, a tribute to the singer. The fretboard and headstock include 8-point star inlays—to give a “more cosmic feeling”—that are made from agoya shell, as are the bridge inlays.
“It became a discussion about art and science, which I love,” May says of the design process. “That’s probably the biggest thread in my life, this path trodden, some people would say, between art and science. But I would say that they’re the same thing. So, I just tread among art and science.”
May’s own Gibson has already appeared in concert during the “Love of My Life” segment of Queen’s show, and occasionally for “’39.” On social media, where May stays active, many fans caught a glimpse of the guitar when he posted a new song for Christmas Eve. “I just wanted to say Merry Christmas, and that’s the way it came out,” he says. “It was incredibly spontaneous. I wanted it to be a gift. I didn’t want it to be, in any way, a way of advertising or making money or anything. It was just a Merry Christmas gift to whoever wants to listen to me.”
“It became a discussion about art and science, which I love,”
While that was one of the first things created with the new Gibson, he has more plans. “I’ve been playing around with it. In fact, we’ve been dropping the D,” he says, hinting at some future plans with guitarist-vocalist Arielle. “I have quite a few songs with the bottom D dropped. I haven’t normally played them acoustic or 12-string, but I’m discovering that some of that sounds really good. It gets such a lovely big clang and a big depth to it.”
Recently, May spent a great deal of time looking back as the band prepped the Queen I box set. The remixed, remastered, and very expanded version of their 1973 debut, Queen—they’ve added the “I” here—which was released last October, encompasses a rebuild of the entire record, plus additional takes, backing tracks, a version recorded specifically for John Peel’s BBC Radio 1 show, and a 1974 live concert recording from London’s Rainbow Theatre.May says of his new Gibson: “To me, this was a joy that they would offer to make me a guitar."
Revisiting this early document over 50 years later, it’s amazing to hear how well-developed the guitarist’s sound already was—full of the propulsive riffs and harmonies that would become part of his signature. May concurs, “You go back into these tracks quite forensically, and I hear myself in the naked tracks and I think, ‘Wow, I didn’t realize that I could do that at that point.’ It must have happened very quickly.”
Reflecting on those formative times, he continues, “I think there’s a period of just exploding, knowing what it is in your head, and striving to make what you play match what’s in your head. But I see it in other people, too. Sometimes, I go back and listen to the first Zeppelin album, and they were pretty young when they made that. But I think, ‘My God, how did they get that far and so quick?’”
“I thought guitars do work as primary orchestral instruments, so that’s what I want to do.”
Before Queen, May had already recorded a two-part guitar solo on the song “Earth,” a late-’60s track recorded with his earlier band, Smile, which also featured future Queen drummer Roger Taylor. While that lead certainly points toward the ambition in May’s later work, its raw untamedness doesn’t quite show evidence of his ultimate precision. But he says he had it in mind from early on. “There weren’t any more tracks to do three parts” when they recorded with Smile, he says, “but I always dreamed of it. It goes back a long, long way to hearing harmonies in other ways from the Everly Brothers, from Buddy Holly and the Crickets, from all sorts of things that we were listening to when we were kids.
“I wanted to make the sound of an orchestra just using guitars, and there’s other little inspirations along the way,” he continues. “Jeff Beck was an inspiration because there’s that wonderful track, ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining,’ which Jeff hated. But there’s one bit where he double-tracks the solo and in just one point it breaks into a two-part harmony, probably by accident. I guess I should have asked him—damn well wish I had. But that sound echoed in my head, and I thought guitars do work as primary orchestral instruments, so that’s what I want to do. I could hear it in my head for a long time before I could make it actually happen.”
Brian May and his Red Special at a recent concert.
Photo by Steve Rose
Though the Queenrecording sessions gave the guitarist his first opportunity to explore the larger harmonized sections that would become part of his signature, many of the sounds on the record left the band dissatisfied. Recorded at Trident Studios in London, the young band could only afford to use the room during downtime. Over the course of four months, they had sessions, usually at night, with in-house producers John Anthony and Roy Thomas Baker, both early supporters. However, the Trident style and sound wasn’t what Queen had in their collective ears, and they’ve remained unhappy with the sonic quality of their debut all these years.
The drums were the band’s primary issue, which Taylor describes as having a “very dry, quite fat, dead sound.” May’s tone is recognizably his own. “Well, I’m a very pushy person,” he laughs. “But nevertheless, it was difficult for me, too. Because of this Trident style of recording, the intention was not to have room sound on it. I kind of pushed, I suppose, to have a mic on the back of the amp as well as the front. That gave me a bit more air. I did feel a little hampered and the change is more subtle on the guitar, but it’s there.
“Jeff Beck was an inspiration because there’s that wonderful track, ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining,’ which Jeff hated. But there’s one bit where he double tracks the solo and in just one point it breaks into a two-part harmony, probably by accident.”
“It’s funny because it changed radically as time went on,” he continues. “And I can remember by the time we got to Sheer Heart Attack, Roy is putting mics all over the room and miking up windows in the booth and whatever to get maximum room sounds. It’s certainly nice to go back and make everything sound the way we pretty much would’ve liked it to sound at the time.”
With Queen I out, a new Queen IIset is in the works, which May calls “a very different kettle of fish.” The drum sounds on their sophomore effort were more in line with the band’s original vision, but the dense layers of overdubs that famously appear on the record came at a cost. “I think it is the biggest step musically and recording-wise that we ever made,” says May. “But there’s a lot of congestion in there. There’s mud because of all this generation-loss stuff [caused by overdubs], and because we liked to saturate the tape, which seemed like a good idea at the time. It made it sound loud. But if you disentangle that and get the bigness in other ways, I think Queen II is going to sound massive.”
The AAA rosewood back and sides of May’s signature acoustic are stunning.
At 77 years old, May certainly seems to keep his schedule packed with music work—not to mention his animal advocacy and scientific endeavors. In May of last year, though, everything came to a halt when the guitarist suffered a stroke. “I couldn’t get a fork from the table to my mouth without it all going all over the place,” he recalls. “It was scary.” Luckily, things began turning around quickly. “After only a few days, it’s amazing what you can get back. By sheer willpower, you just start retraining your muscle.” Not quite a year on when we speak, May estimates he’s regained 95 percent of his abilities, which, he says, “is enough.
“The short answer is, ‘I’m good,’” he assures.
May is in great spirits and appears excited about all his recent projects, finished and in-progress alike. In this time of looking back on his earliest works, I ask him to think about his beginnings, when he would gaze at Gibson catalogs but had to build his own guitar out of necessity, because, as he points out, he “couldn’t afford anything else.”
So, what would young Brian May, stepping into an afterhours session at Trident, making his band’s debut, think about his new limited edition signature model Gibson acoustic? He takes a long pause. “It would have been …” he pauses again, “unthinkable.”
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Two Notes Unveil the Next Giant Leap in Their Reactive Load Box Legacy With Reload II
Introducing Torpedo Reload II - Two Notes Audio Engineering's latest groundbreaking reactive load solution, featuring twin-channel operation, multi-impedance compatibility, and continuous attenuation. With a Celestion® Approved Load Response and 215W per channel power amplifier, Reload II redefines backline control.
Two Notes Audio Engineering, the world's leading innovator and manufacturer of load boxes, attenuators, and digital cabinet emulators, has just announced Torpedo Reload II - The latest installment in Two Notes’ class-leading reactive load solution legacy marking the definitive watershed in contemporary backline control.
Featuring twin-channel operation, selectable multi-impedance compatibility, and true continuous attenuation, Reload II is Two Notes’ most advanced Load Box to date. Its mission is simple: unleash the power of any amplifier or line-level source without compromise. Armed with a ground-up rework of their defining reactive load for a Celestion® Approved Load Response, the match is set to drive any amp’s power stage (rated up to 200W RMS) to perfection, retaining all the sonic integrity your performance demands. Scalable from a whisper to a full-throttle onslaught, Reload II’s ultra-transparent dual-mono 215W (per channel) amplifier/attenuator and paired speaker outputs preserve every facet of your tone. Add a Stereo FX Loop, dual Line outputs, and GENOME Reload II Edition (software download) into the mix and Reload doesn't just enhance your rig, it redefines it.
“When it came to developing Reload II, it was obvious this couldn't be a run-of-the-mill update of its predecessor. Fuelled by an ethos rooted in continual redefinition of contemporary backline control, we set our sights on a ground-up rework of our defining reactive load. The results speak for themselves: hands-down the best-in-class impedance match available on the market to date and the first reactive Load Box to feature an industry first Celestion® Approved Load Response.” Said Guillaume Pille, Two notes CEO. “Whether it’s a tube amp, a line level source, or even both simultaneously, all the hookup flexibility you demand from a Two Notes product is here. Throw a 215W (per cab output) power amplifier into the mix, and you’re primed with everything from studio-friendly silent loadbox operation to mainstage-ready source amplification. If that wasn't enough, there’s a suite of expertly-tuned tone-shaping tools - plus a super-versatile Stereo/Dual Mono FX loop - that all combine to make Reload II our most adaptable solution to date. The next generation of our Reactive Load legacy has arrived. It’s now up to you to reimagine your backline with everything the Two Notes ecosystem has to offer!
Reload II is now available for pre-order from Two Notes stockists worldwide, scheduled for shipping Q1 2025. At launch, Reload II ships with the following MAP / MSRPs
US: $999.99 (MAP)
Euro: 999.99€ (MSRP)
GBP - £849.99 (MSRP)
For more information, please visit two-notes.com.
Introducing Torpedo Reload II - YouTube
On That’s the Price of Loving Me, “We’re Not Finished Yet” is a love letter to Wareham’s 1968 Gibson ES-335.
The singer-songwriter-guitarist, known for his time with indie rock heroes Galaxie 500, Luna, and Dean & Britta, reunites with producer Kramer on his latest song-driven solo effort, That’s the Price of Loving Me.
“You want there to be moments where something unexpected hits you,” says Dean Wareham. “They’ve done studies on this. What is it in a song that makes people cry? What is it that moves you? It’s something unexpected.”
The singer-songwriter, 61, has crafted many such moments—most famously during the late ’80s and early ’90s, helping cement the dream-pop genre with cult-favorites Galaxie 500. Take the tenor saxophone, by Ralph Carney, that elevates the back half of “Decomposing Trees” from 1989’s On Fire, or the Mellotron-like atmosphere that bubbles up during “Spook” on This Is Our Music from 1990—both of which, notably, were recorded with journeyman producer Kramer, who’s part of Wareham’s rich sonic universe once again with the songwriter’s new solo album, That’s the Price of Loving Me.
Following This Is Our Music, the final Galaxie 500 album, Wareham and Kramer went their separate ways. The former founded the long-running indie-rock band Luna, formed the duo Dean & Britta with now-wife Britta Phillips, worked on film scores, and released a handful of solo projects. Kramer, meanwhile, grew into a hero of experimental music, playing with and producing everyone from John Zorn to Daniel Johnston. They stayed in touch, even as they drifted apart geographically, and always talked about working together again—but it took the weight of mortality to make it happen.
“[Kramer has] been saying for years, ‘It’s crazy we haven’t made a record together,’” says Wareham over Zoom, his shimmering silver hair flanked in the frame by a wall-hung cherry red Gibson SG and a poster of Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s 1975 drama Faustrecht der Freiheit. “He was living in Florida, and I was living elsewhere and doing other things. But I did lose a couple of friends over the pandemic, and it did occur to me, you can’t just say, ‘I’ll get to it’ forever. Not to be morbid, but we’re not gonna be here forever. We’re not getting any younger, are we?”
Dean Wareham's Gear
Wareham was a member of the early indie dream-pop trio Galaxie 500. After their split, he formed indie rock stalwarts Luna as well as Dean & Britta, with wife and Luna bandmate Britta Phillips.
Photo by Laura Moreau
Guitars
Amps
- Lazy J 20
- Mesa/Boogie California Tweed
Effects
- EAE Hypersleep reverb
- EAE Sending analog delay
- Dr Scientist Frazz Dazzler fuzz
- Danelectro Back Talk
- Joe Parker Raydeen overdrive
Strings, Picks, and Accessories
- Curtis Mangan nickel wounds (.010–.046)
- Dunlop Nylon .88 mm picks
- Truetone 1 Spot Pro CS12
In 2020, Dean & Britta recorded a covers album, Quarantine Tapes—the perfect opportunity, amid the agony of lockdown, to finally get Kramer involved. The producer mixed their hazy version of the Seekers’ “The Carnival Is Over,” which planted the seeds for a bigger collaboration on That’s the Price of Loving Me. At first, though, Wareham didn’t have any songs, so he gave himself a hard deadline by booking some time at L.A. studio Lucy’s Meat Market.
“What is it in a song that makes people cry? What is it that moves you? It’s something unexpected.”
“I don’t write songs every day—sometimes I don’t write songs for a whole year or something,” he says with a laugh. “The only thing that gets me to do it is booking studio time. Then I have to write some songs because it’ll be embarrassing if I show up with nothing.”
The space itself—decked out with a jaw-dropping amount of vintage guitars and amplifiers and keyboards—helped animate his sleepy-eyed and gently psychedelic songs. “I thought I had a few nice instruments,” Wareham says, “but I showed up, like, ‘Oh, your Les Paul’s from 1955? I think I’ll play this one. Your Martin is from the ’40s?’” Speed and spontaneity were essential: They worked six full days, with Kramer guiding him to capture every performance without overthinking it.
Wareham’s latest was produced by Kramer, a former member of Shockabilly, Bongwater, and the Butthole Surfers who owns the legendary underground label Shimmy-Disc. He produced all three Galaxie 500 LPs.
“[That’s] how I worked with Kramer back in the day too,” he recalls. “Maybe it kinda spoiled me—he was always like, ‘Yep, that’s it. Next!’ I got lazy about going back and redoing things. We’d make the decision and move on: keep that drum track and bass track. Maybe Britta [bass, backing vocals] would change a few things. Sometimes you’re with people who think every single thing should be replaced and made perfect, and you don’t actually have to do that. When it came time for me to overdub a guitar solo or something, Kramer would just allow me two takes generally: ‘Do it again a little differently. That’s it. That’s good.’”
“I thought I had a few nice instruments, but I showed up, like, ‘Oh, your Les Paul’s from 1955? I think I’ll play this one.’”
The material itself allowed for such malleability, with ringing chord progressions and gentle melodies often influenced by the musicians who happened to be gathered around him that day. “You Were the Ones I Had to Betray” has the baroque-pop sweetness of late-’60s Beatles, partly due to the sawing cellos of L.A. session player Gabe Noel, who also added some boomy bass harmonica to the climax. “It’s an instrument you’d mostly associate with the Beach Boys, I guess,” Wareham says. “It kinda sounds like a saxophone or something.”
Wareham, his 335, and Mesa/Boogie California Tweed at a recent Luna show, with bassist Britta Phillips in the background.
Photo by Mario Heller
It’s easy to get wrapped up in the warm hug of these arrangements, but it’s also worth highlighting Wareham’s lyrics—whether it’s the clever but subtle acrostic poetry of “The Mystery Guest” (“I’d never done that before, and it’s not that hard to do actually. Sometimes it’s just to give yourself a strange assignment to get yourself thinking in a different way”) or the hilarity of “We’re Not Finished Yet,” which scans as carnal but is actually a love letter to his semi-recently acquired 1968 Gibson ES-335.
“Sometimes it’s just to give yourself a strange assignment to get yourself thinking in a different way.”
“I read this poem about a guy polishing an antique wooden cabinet or something,” Wareham explains. “I thought, ‘That’s funny—it’s vaguely sexual, how he’s like rubbing this thing.’ I thought it would be funny if I wrote a song not about a piece of furniture but about the guitar—the experience of buying this. The lyrics in there: ‘I waxed you; I rubbed you; I reamed you.’ It all sounds like a dirty song, but it’s like, ‘No, I had to get the peg holes reamed!’ It works kind of as a love song, but that’s what it’s really about.”
Which brings us back to that idea of the unexpected. The most beautiful touches on Loving Me, crafted with his ol’ producer pal, are the ones that appear out of nowhere—like the blossoming guitar overdubs of “New World Julie” and “Dear Pretty Baby.” Kramer, he says, liked to “run two or three guitar tracks at once, where it becomes a symphony of guitars.”
These surprises, indeed, are the moments that stick with you.
YouTube It
Luna’s four-song performance on KEXP showcases Dean Wareham’s sparse, low-key indie rock vibe as well as his simple and sweet guitar embellishments.
In the ’80s, Peter Buck’s clean, chime-y arpeggios defined the sound of alt-rock to come.
In the ’80s, Peter Buck’s clean, chime-y arpeggios defined the sound of alt-rock to come. From R.E.M's start, his post-Roger McGuinn 12-string style served as the foundation for the band’s simple, plain-spoken approach, offering a fresh take on what an independent band could be and inspiring generations of artists to come. Buck not only found his sound quickly, he evolved throughout the band’s career. By the ’90s, R.E.M.’s sound had evolved to incorporate organic, acoustic textures, and eventually leaning into a glam- and grunge-inspired, distorted-guitar-focused sound on 1994’s Monster.