
Guitarists Charlie Starr and Paul Jackson work like a southern-fried Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood: Their rhythms are just as important as the leads, and they’re all about telling a story.
Be Right Here is the Atlanta rock outfit’s eighth record. 23 years into their career, they’re as sure as ever that this music matters.
To some, Americana is a fashion or aesthetic. To others, it’s a music genre. Many also relate it to film. The thing that ties them all together is an emphasis on authenticity and heritage. Americana, in any form, takes the country’s roots and brings them to the people in an honest, reverent way. In that sense, Blackberry Smoke’s latest vintage-gear-fueled release, Be Right Here, is Americana at its finest.
Like the band, the album is a mix of just about every uniquely American musical genre wrapped into one. From the mountain-country calm of “Azalea” to “Watchu Know Good”’s smokey barroom groove, Blackberry Smoke is what happens when real musicians tell authentic stories through great songs.
Listening to lead vocalist/guitarist Charlie Starr and guitarist Paul Jackson name-check their influences, it’s apparent where they got their versatile yet classic sound. For Jackson, it was simple.
“My dad asked me, ‘Do you want to hear something really cool?’” he remembers. “He put on Chuck Berry, and that was that for me. I got turned on.”
“I grew up playing bluegrass and gospel and traditional country music with my dad,” Starr adds. “But my mom liked the Stones, the Beatles, and Bob Dylan. He says these influences and Jackson’s high-pitched vocal ability brought the two together over two decades ago.
“I remember hearing [Ratt’s] Out of the Cellar for the first time, which is something that me and Paul really bond on, and we were playing the same honky-tonks and little bars around West Georgia and East Alabama,” Starr continues. When he moved to Atlanta, he met brothers Brit and Richard Turner, who would become Blackberry Smoke’s drummer and bassist.“I had started writing some songs coming from bluegrass and southern rock music and was like, ‘Well, we need another guitar player, and we need somebody who can sing high.’ Harmony is very important, but the only bands that could sing around there were my band and Paul’s bands,” Starr chuckles. “I called Paul and was like, ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but we’re putting this band together. Would you like to be in it?’”
“That was that, and here we are,” Jackson laughs, “23 years later.”
Since then, Blackberry Smoke—which also includes Brandon Still (keyboards), Preston Holcomb (percussion), and Benji Shanks (guitar)—has taken their music around the world, garnering fans and critical acclaim. Starr’s bluegrass-meets-southern rock sound has also grown to embrace the best elements of blues, country, soul, jazz, and R&B. These genres share a traditional heritage, one that comes from the Southern states Blackberry Smoke calls home.
“My dad asked me, ‘Do you want to hear something really cool?’ He put on Chuck Berry, and that was that for me.” —Paul Jackson
Blackberry Smoke’s music is definitely a kind of stylistic and cultural gumbo. But, according to Starr and Jackson, the recipe only comes together because of the players that make up the band. “It’s the way that people play their instruments and the way that they express themselves, all seven of us,” says Starr. “You get the way that the instruments are being played and then the way that it’s all glued together. That’s where two decades of playing together comes into it. It’s like a football team where everybody’s moving and working toward the same goal.”
Be Right Here, Blackberry Smoke’s eighth album, was recorded live off the floor by Dave Cobb, who wanted to capture the band as they learned the songs.
Be Right Here embodies that human element better than, perhaps, any of the band’s previous work. Together with producer Dave Cobb, they took their already honest approach to writing and recording and stripped it back even further, tracking right off the live room floor. While there may have been some initial hesitations, Starr said the process soon proved its value.
“I had my doubts at first, but he had already done it. I think just previously, he had made Slash and Myles Kennedy’s newest record that way. He just said, ‘I want everything in the room and everybody in the room.’ There’s some bleed, but it was really about the feel, and he was right.”
“That’s where two decades of playing together comes into it. It’s like a football team where everybody’s moving and working toward the same goal.” —Charlie Starr
That “feel” dominates the record. From the greasy riffs of lead track “Dig a Hole,” the guitars are loose, raw, and packed with attitude, just like the classic records of rock’s heyday. That’s no accident.
“Dave’s coming from that ’60s recording mentality,” explained Starr. “He doesn’t allow a click or auto-tune. It’s all analog. That’s his MO. And if you think about it, we all spend every waking hour in the studio chasing records that were made in the ’60s and ’70s, because it sounds so good. Especially as guitar players and instrumentalists, it’s like, man, that’s the pure drop right there! It’s the way that Neve consoles and Neumann microphones make music sound.”
Charlie Starr's Gear
Starr and Jackson usually drop off a truckload of high-wattage amps at the studio when they record, but Cobb encouraged them to keep things small and simple.
Photo by Steve Kalinsky
Guitars
- 1964 Gibson ES-335
- 1957 Gibson Les Paul Junior
- 1963 Fender Esquire
- 1958 Fender Telecaster
- 1965 Gibson ES-330
Shared Acoustics:
- 1950 Martin D-28
- 1953 Martin D-18
- 1946 Martin 000-18
- 1955 Gibson J-45
Amps
- 1964 Fender Champ
- 1950s–’60s Supro Super
- 1950s Fender Custom Champ (modified to Dumble spec)
Effects
- 1990s Menatone Red Snapper
- Vintage MXR Phase 45
- Vintage Maestro EP-3 Echoplex
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario (.010–.046)
- Blue Chip picks (acoustic)
- InTune picks (electric)
Tracking live through classic studio gear wasn’t the only way Cobb and the band changed things for the new record. Much to Starr’s surprise, Cobb also wanted the band to come in fresh—as in, not-having-heard-the-songs-before fresh. Starr remembered Cobb saying, “Hey, man, don’t send demos of the songs to the guys this time. Don’t even play the songs yet. I want you to sit in the studio, get the guitar, and say, ‘The song goes like this.’ I want to capture the first thing that people play when we start to roll tape. That’s usually the best.
”As a result, often what you hear on Be Right Here is the sound of seven talented musicians playing off each other and reacting to the music in real-time like only a band of musical brothers can. Not even the band’s gear escaped Cobb’s less-is-more approach. Jackson and Starr, both diehard vintage-gear collectors, are well known for using Marshall and Marshall-style heads and cabinets. But Starr said the amps hardly got any use in the studio.
“If you think about it, we all spend every waking hour in the studio chasing records that were made in the ’60s and ’70s, because it sounds so good.” —Charlie Starr
“Over the last 20 years, you know, we’ll go to make a record, and then it’s like, ‘Oh, I can’t wait to take this Plexi to the studio,’ or, ‘I got this new Bandmaster I can’t wait to take in,’” he explains. “We’ll literally bring a truck full of shit. And Dave’s got a whole studio full of shit. But Dave called and said, ‘Hey, call Benji and Paul and tell them not to bring any amp bigger than a 10" speaker. Let’s make a funky little amp record.’”
“And, believe it or not, I used just two amps on this record,” adds Jackson. “They just sounded great. I was on the verge of just using one, my Gibson Lancer. It’s a ’59. I used it for most of the record. Then, I think, on the last two songs, it took a dump on me, and I used Dave’s ’58 or ’59 Rickenbacker amp for the last songs.”
Starr kept his recording rig just as streamlined. On almost every song, you can hear him play through a 1964 black-panel Fender Champ, with a few cameos from a Supro Super. But the holy grail turned out to be a 1950s Fender Custom Champ, which had some particularly special magic.
Paul Jackson's Gear
Guitarist Paul Jackson says the best solos ought to sound like you’re singing.
Photo by Jordi Vidal
Guitars
- 1960 Gibson ES-335 (owned by Dave Cobb)
- Gibson 40th Anniversary Les Paul
- 1979 Gibson Les Paul Standard
Amps
- 1958–’59 Rickenbacker combo
- 1959 Gibson GA-6 Lancer
Effects
- Neo Instruments Ventilator
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario (.010–.046)
- InTune picks
“Dave actually had an email from Dumble that he showed me. He’s like, ‘This is the advice that I got from Dumble on what to do with your Champs and Princetons.’ I can’t tell anyone what it said. It’s a Dave Cobb, Howard Dumble secret. But it was a speaker trick. Our tech was out there with his soldering iron, like a crazy professor, modding these vintage amps on the live room floor.” The unmistakable tweed grit on “Don’t Mind If I Do” is just one of the stellar guitar tones that drive Be Right Here.
Both Jackson and Starr managed to work a few of their favorite pedals into the sessions as well. “I actually fell in love with this pedal that Dave had called a Red Snapper by Menatone,” Starr says. “It was a mid-’90s pedal. I was like, ‘Dude, that is great! I got to have one of those.’ It’s Klon-ish but a little brighter, actually. And you were using a [Neo Instruments] Ventilator for the solo for ‘A Little Bit Crazy.’ Isn’t that what it is?” Jackson confirms. “The chase never ends, does it?” Starr continues. “You can’t help it.”
“The way I look at it is, we’re singers anyway. When we play guitar, the vocal comes through the guitar.” —Paul Jackson
There are delicious tones to be found on every song, and getting those tones was a journey in itself. Because of their tracking process, each sound had to fit the whole and perfectly translate the songs’ meanings. Cobb and the band understood this, and as Starr explains, they took their time dialing things in one chord stab at a time. “For each song, [Dave would] plug in a little amp, and you’d hit a G chord. He’s like, ‘No.’ Then it’s like, ‘Okay, how about this little Super amp?’ He’d be like, ‘No.’ Then you land on the one, and he goes, ‘That’s it!’ He would do that with every person in the band.”
“That chase is the fun part to me,” adds Jackson. “When you’re in a room with a bunch of guys and trying to find that sound, it’s exciting. I could sit there all day and just listen and watch.”
Photo by Andy Sapp
Southern rock revivalists Blackberry Smoke have been going strong for 23 years, and guitarists Charlie Starr and Paul Jackson say they have no intentions of slowing down.
While both Starr and Jackson put many of their vintage instruments to work during those sessions, Jackson spent a lot of time working one of Cobb’s prized 6-strings. “I mainly used Dave’s blonde ES-335,” he says. “He said it was a late ’50s or early ’60s. I fell in love with that. I used it for most of the tracking.” Jackson also turned to his black 40th Anniversary Les Paul and a ’79 Standard Les Paul, but the 335 won the day.
Starr relied on his personal arsenal of old-school Gibsons and Fenders, including a 1964 ES-335, a ’65 ES-330, a ’57 Les Paul Junior, a ’63 Esquire, and a ’58 Telecaster. Of course, great songwriters are never far from their favorite acoustic guitars, and Blackberry Smoke gets the most out of a prized collection that includes a 1950 Martin D-28, a ’53 D-18, a ’46 000-18, and a 1955 Gibson J-45.
“I called Paul and was like, ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but we’re putting this band together. Would you like to be in it?’” —Charlie Starr
The band’s gear and tones are likely enough to make most Premier Guitar readers misty-eyed. To Starr and Jackson, though, they are a means to an end. To them, it’s still all about the songs and the emotions. This goes double for their approach to solos, of which there are plenty on the new LP.
“When I’m putting together a solo for a song, the best place to start is the melody of the vocal,” explains Starr. “Then just expand on that. I mean, when you’ve played with traditional bluegrass guys, if you came in there playing a solo on ‘Faded Love,’ and you aren’t playing the melody, they’d be like, ‘What the hell are you playing? You’re not playing the song!’”
“The way I look at it,” Jackson adds, “is we’re singers anyway. When we play guitar, the vocal comes through the guitar. That’s what gets me on solos. I could rip at home and do that by myself. I’m not worried about that. It’s about the songwriting, and when I hear Charlie throw something out there, it just works.”
The duo agrees that rhythm is 90 percent of a guitarist’s gig, which is why they complement each other’s rhythm styles perfectly. Even on straight-up rockers like “Hammer and the Nail,” the two fill the space with a combination of powerful chords, punctuating slide flourishes, and Stones-like juxtaposition. Starr admits that it’s something they’ve worked on since day one.
“Paul and I, in the early days of the band, had talked about not doing the same exact thing and how it’s so interesting for a two-guitar band. Think about it: When we were young, and we listened to Highway to Hell, you would turn the balance left and right [on the stereo] and get Malcolm on the left and Angus on the right. It was always a little different. Even Appetite for Destruction. That’s an even better example of how Izzy and Slash played totally different parts. That’s what Keith Richards and Ron Wood talk about, taking these different parts and making something greater.”
Blackberry Smoke’s 23-year career shows how far you can go with a handful of chords and the honest truth. Through rock’s attitude, blues’ swagger, bluegrass’ melodicism, and soul’s sensuality, they keep creating records that resonate with fans worldwide.
Yet in the modern music age of algorithms and AI, you have to ask: What keeps them going? Why crank old guitars into tube amps after all these years? The romantic answer is, “the song.” The more practical answer—and every bit as true—is that they simply have to.
“It’s an addiction,” says Starr. “Look at the Stones. They’re 80. They can’t stop.”
“Exactly,” agrees Jackson. “It’s still exciting.”
YouTube It
Blackberry Smoke takes a soulful ramble through their hit, “One Horse Town,” live in Atlanta back in 2019.
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Onstage, Tommy Emmanuel executes a move that is not from the playbook of his hero, Chet Atkins.
Recorded live at the Sydney Opera House, the Australian guitarist’s new album reminds listeners that his fingerpicking is in a stratum all its own. His approach to arranging only amplifies that distinction—and his devotion to Chet Atkins.
Australian fingerpicking virtuoso Tommy Emmanuel is turning 70 this year. He’s been performing since he was 6, and for every solo show he’s played, he’s never used a setlist.
“My biggest decision every day on tour is, ‘What do I want to start with? How do I want to come out of the gate?’” Emmanuel explains to me over a video call. “A good opener has to have everything. It has to be full of surprise, it has to have lots of good ideas, lots of light and shade, and then, hit it again,” he says, illustrating each phrase with his hands and ending with a punch.“You lift off straightaway with the first song, you get airborne, you start reaching, and then it’s time to level out and take people on a journey.”
In May 2023, Emmanuel played two shows at the Sydney Opera House, the best performances from which have been combined on his new release, Live at the Sydney Opera House. The venue’s Concert Hall, which has a capacity of 2,679, is a familiar room for Emmanuel, but I think at this point in his career he wouldn’t bring a setlist if he was playing Wembley Stadium. On the recording, Emmanuel’s mind-blowingly dexterous chops, distinctive attack and flair, and knack for culturally resonant compositions are on full display. His opening song for the shows? An original, “Countrywide,” with a segue into Chet Atkins’ “El Vaquero.”
“When I was going to high school in the ’60s, I heard ‘El Vaquero’ on Chet Atkins’ record, [1964’s My Favorite Guitars],” Emmanuel shares. “And when I wrote ‘Countrywide’ in around ’76 or ’77, I suddenly realized, ‘Ah! It’s a bit like “El Vaquero!”’ So I then worked out ‘El Vaquero’ as a solo piece, because it wasn’t recorded like that [by Atkins originally].
“The co-writer of ‘El Vaquero’ is Wayne Moss, who’s a famous Nashville session guy who played ‘da da da’ [sings the guitar riff from Roy Orbison’s ‘Pretty Woman’]. And he played on a lot of Chet’s records as a rhythm guy. So once when I played ‘El Vaquero’ live, Wayne Moss came up to me and said, ‘You know, you did my part and Chet’s at the same time. That’s not fair!’” Emmanuel says, laughing.
Atkins is the reason Emmanuel got into performing. His mother had been teaching him rhythm guitar for a couple years when he heard Atkins on the radio and, at 6, was able to immediately mimic his fingerpicking technique. His father recognized Emmanuel’s prodigious talent and got him on the road that year, which kicked off his professional career. He says, “By the time I was 6, I was already sleep-deprived, working too hard, and being forced to be educated. Because all I was interested in was playing music.”
Emmanuel talks about Atkins as if the way he viewed him as a boy hasn’t changed. The title Atkins bestowed upon him, C.G.P. (Certified Guitar Player), appears on Emmanuel’s album covers, in his record label (C.G.P. Sounds), and is inlaid at the 12th fret on his Maton Custom Shop TE Personal signature acoustic. (Atkins named only five guitarists C.G.P.s. The others are John Knowles, Steve Wariner, Jerry Reed, and Atkins himself.) For Emmanuel, even today most roads lead to Atkins.
When I ask Emmanuel about his approach to arranging for solo acoustic guitar, he says, “It was really hit home for me by my hero, Chet Atkins, when I read an interview with him a long time ago and he said, ‘Make your arrangement interesting.’ And I thought, ‘Wow!’ Because I was so keen to be true to the composer and play the song as everyone knows it. But then again, I’m recreating it like everyone else has, and I might as well get in line with the rest of them and jump off the cliff into nowhere. So it struck me: ‘How can I make my arrangements interesting?’ Well, make them full of surprises.”
When Emmanuel was invited to contribute to 2015’s Burt Bacharach: This Guitar’s in Love with You, featuring acoustic-guitar tributes to Bacharach’s classic compositions by various artists, Emmanuel expresses that nobody wanted to take “(They Long to Be) Close to You,” due to its “syrupy” nature. But for Emmanuel, this presented an entertaining challenge.
He explains, “I thought, ‘Okay, how can I reboot “Close to You?’ So even the most jaded listener will say, ‘Holy fuck—I didn’t expect that! Wow, I really like that; that is a good melody!’ So I found a good key to play the song in, which allowed me to get some open notes that sustain while I move the chords. Then what I did is, in every phrase, I made the chord unresolve, then resolve.
Tommy Emmanuel's Gear
“I’m writing music for the film that’s in my head,” Emmanuel says. “So, I don’t think, ‘I’m just the guitar,’ ever.”
Photo by Simone Cecchetti
Guitars
- Three Maton Custom Shop TE Personals, each with an AP5 PRO pickup system
Amps
- Udo Roesner Da Capo 75
Effects
- AER Pocket Tools preamp
Strings & Picks
- Martin TE Signature Phosphor Bronze (.012–.054)
- Martin SP strings
- Ernie Ball Paradigm strings
- D’Andrea Pro Plec 1.5 mm
- Dunlop medium thumbpicks
“And then to really put the nail in the coffin, at the end, ‘Close to you’ [sings melody]. I finished on a major 9 chord which had that note in it, but it wasn’t the key the song was in, which is a typical Stevie Wonder trick. All the tricks I know, the wonderful ideas that I’ve stolen, are from Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder, Lionel Richie, James Taylor, Carole King, Neil Diamond. All of the people who wrote really incredibly great pop songs and R&B music—I stole every idea I could, and I tried to make my little two-and-a -half minutes as interesting and entertaining as possible. Because entertainment equals: Surprise me.”
I share with Emmanuel that the performances on Live at the Sydney Opera House, which include his popular “Beatles Medley,” reminded me of another possible arrangement trick. In Harpo Marx’s autobiography, Harpo Speaks, I preface, Marx writes of a lesson he learned as a performer—to “answer the audience’s questions.” (Emmanuel says he’s a big fan of the book and read it in the early ’70s.) That happened for me while listening to the medley, when, after sampling melodies from “She’s a Woman” and “Please Please Me,” Emmanuel suddenly lands on “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”
I say, “I’m waiting for something that hits more recognizably to me, and when ‘While My Guitar’ comes in, that’s like answering my question.”
“It’s also Paul and John, Paul and John, George,” Emmanuel replies. “You think, ‘That’s great, that’s great pop music,’ then, ‘Wow! Look at the depth of this.’”Often Emmanuel’s flights on his acoustic guitar are seemingly superhuman—as well as supremely entertaining.
Photo by Ekaterina Gorbacheva
A trick I like to employ as a writer, I say to Emmanuel, is that when I’m describing something, I’ll provide the reader with just enough context so that they can complete the thought on their own.
“You can do that musically as well,” says Emmanuel. He explains how, in his arrangement of “What a Wonderful World,” he’ll play only the vocal melody. “When people are asking me at a workshop, ‘How come you don’t put chords behind that part?’ I say, ‘I’m drawing the melody and you’re putting in all the background in your head. I don’t need to tell you what the chords are. You already know what the chords are.’”
“Wayne Moss came up to me and said, ‘You know, you did my part and Chet’s at the same time. That’s not fair!’”
Another track featured on Live at the Sydney Opera House is a cover of Paul Simon’s “American Tune” (which Emmanuel then jumps into an adaptation of the Australian bush ballad, “Waltzing Matilda”). It’s been a while since I really spent time with There GoesRhymin’ Simon (on which “American Tune” was first released), and yet it sounded so familiar to me. A little digging revealed that its melody is based on the 17th-century Christian hymn, “O Sacred Head, Now Wounded,” which was arranged and repurposed by Bach in a few of the composer’s works. The cross-chronological and genre-lackadaisical intersections that come up in popular music sometimes is fascinating.
“I think the principle right there,” Emmanuel muses, “is people like Bach and Beethoven and Mozart found the right language to touch the heart of a human being through their ears and through their senses ... that really did something to them deep in their soul. They found a way with the right chords and the right notes, somehow. It could be as primitive as that.
Tommy Emmanuel has been on the road as a performing guitarist for 64 years. Eat your heart out, Bob Dylan.
Photo by Jan Anderson
“It’s like when you’re a young composer and someone tells you, ‘Have a listen to Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind,”’ he continues. “‘Listen to how those notes work with those chords.’ And every time you hear it, you go, ‘Why does it touch me like that? Why do I feel this way when I hear those chords—those notes against those chords?’ I say, it’s just human nature. Then you wanna go, ‘How can I do that!’” he concludes with a grin.
“You draw from such a variety of genres in your arrangements,” I posit. “Do you try to lean into the side of converting those songs to solo acoustic guitar, or the side of bridging the genre’s culture to that of your audience?”
“I stole every idea I could, and I tried to make my little two-and-a-half minutes as interesting and entertaining as possible. Because entertainment equals: Surprise me.”
“If I was a method actor,” Emmanuel explains, “what I’m doing is—I’m writing music for the film that’s in my head. So, I don’t think, ‘I’m just the guitar,’ ever. I always think it has to have that kind of orchestral, not grandeur, but … palette to it. Because of the influence of Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel, and Elton John, especially—the piano guys—I try to use piano ideas, like putting the third in the low bass a lot, because guitar players don’t necessarily do that. And I try to always do something that makes what I do different.
“I want to be different and recognizable,” he continues. “I remember when people talked about how some players—you just hear one note and you go, ‘Oh, that’s Chet Atkins.’ And it hit me like a train, the reason why a guy like Hank Marvin, the lead guitar player from the Shadows.... I can tell you: He had a tone that I hear in other players now. Everyone copied him—they just don’t know it—including Mark Knopfler, Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, all those people. I got him up to play with me a few times when he moved to Australia, and even playing acoustic, he still had that sound. I don’t know how he did it, but it was him. He invented himself.”
YouTube It
Emmanuel performs his arrangement of “What a Wonderful World,” illustrating how omitting a harmonic backdrop can have a more powerful effect, especially when playing such a well-known melody.
Guest columnist Dave Pomeroy, who is also president of Nashville’s musicians union, with some of his friends.
Dave Pomeroy, who’s played on over 500 albums with artists including Emmylou Harris, Elton John, Trisha Yearwood, Earl Scruggs, and Alison Krauss, shares his thoughts on bass playing—and a vision of the future.
From a very young age, I was captivated by music. Our military family was stationed in England from 1961 to 1964, so I got a two-year head start on the Beatles starting at age 6. When Cream came along, for the first time I was able to separate what the different players were doing, and my focus immediately landed on Jack Bruce. He wrote most of the songs, sang wonderfully, and drove the band with his bass. Playing along with Cream’s live recordings was a huge part of my initial self-training, and I never looked back.
The electric bass has a much shorter history than most instruments. I believe that this is a big reason why the evolution of bass playing continues in ways that were literally unimaginable when it began to replace the acoustic bass on pop and R&B recordings. Players like James Jamerson, Joe Osborn, Carol Kaye, Chuck Rainey, and David Hood made great songs even better with their bass lines, pocket, and tone. Playing in bands throughout my teenage years, I took every opportunity I could to learn from musicians who were more experienced than I was. Slowly, I began to understand the power of the bass to make everyone else sound better—or lead the way to a train wreck! That sense of responsibility was not lost on me. As I continued to play, listen, and learn, a gradual awareness of other elements came to the surface, including the three Ts: tone, timing, and taste.
I was ready to rock the world with busy lines and bass solos when I moved to Nashville in the late ’70s, and I was suddenly transported into the land of singer-songwriters. It was a huge awakening when I heard the lyrics of artists like Guy Clark, whose spare yet powerful stories and simple guitar changes opened up a whole new universe in reverse for me. It was a reset for sure, but gradually I found ways to combine my earlier energetic approach in different ways. Playing what’s right for a song is a very subjective thing.
“If the song calls for you to ramp up the energy and lead the way like Chris Squire, Bootsy Collins, Geddy Lee, Sting, Flea, Justin Chancellor, or so many others, trust yourself and go for it.”
Don Williams, whom I worked with for many years, was known as a man of few words, but he gave me some of the best musical advice I ever received. I had been with him for just a few months when he pulled me aside one night after a show, and quietly said, “Dave, you don’t have to play what’s on the records, just don’t throw me off when I’m singing.” In other words: It’s okay to be creative, but listen to what’s going on around you. I never forgot that lesson.
As I gradually got into recording work, in an environment where creativity is combined with efficiency and experimentation is sometimes, but not always, welcome, I focused on tone as a form of expression, trying to make every note count. As drum sounds got much bigger during the ’80s, string bass was pretty much off the table as an option in most situations. Inspired by German bassist Eberhard Weber, I bought an electric upright 5-string built by Harry Fleishman a few years earlier. That theoretically self-indulgent purchase gave me an opportunity to carve out a tone that would work with both big drums and acoustic instruments. It gave me an identifiable sound and led to me playing that bass on records with artists like Keith Whitley, Trisha Yearwood, Alison Krauss, Emmylou Harris, and the Chieftains.
In a world of constantly evolving and merging musical styles, the options can be almost overwhelming, so it’s important to trust yourself. Ultimately, you are making a series of choices every time you pick up the instrument. Whether it’s pick versus fingers versus thumb, or clean versus overdrive versus distortion, and so on … you are the boss of your role in the song you are playing. When the sonic surroundings you find yourself in change, so can you. It’s all about listening to what is going on around you and finding that sweet spot where you can bring the whole thing together while not attracting too much attention.
On the other hand, if the song calls for you to ramp up the energy and lead the way like Chris Squire, Bootsy Collins, Geddy Lee, Sting, Flea, Justin Chancellor, or so many others, trust yourself and go for it. Newer role models like Tal Wilkenfeld, Thundercat, and MonoNeon have raised the bar yet again. The beauty of it all is that the bass and its role keep evolving.
Right now, I guarantee there are young bassists of all descriptions we have not yet heard who are reinventing the bass and its role in new ways. That’s what bass players do—we are the glue that ties music together. Find your power and use it!
A satin finish with serious style. Join PG contributor Tom Butwin as he dives into the PRS Standard 24 Satin—a guitar that blends classic PRS craftsmanship with modern versatility. From its D-MO pickups to its fast-playing neck, this one’s a must-see.
PRS Standard 24 Satin Electric Guitar - Satin Red Apple Metallic
Standard 24 Satin, Red App MetA reverb-based pedal for exploring the far reaches of sound.
Easy to use control set. Wide range of sounds. Crush control is fun to explore. Filter is versatile.
Works best as a stereo effect, which may limit some players.
$299
Old Blood Noise Endeavors Dark Star Stereo
oldbloodnoise.com
The Old Blood Dark Star Stereo (DSS) is one of those pedals that lives beyond simple effect categorization. Yes, it’s a digital reverb. But like other Old Blood designs, it’s such a feature-rich, creative take on that effect that to think of it as a reverb feels not only imprecise but unfair.
The Old Blood Dark Star Stereo (DSS) is one of those pedals that lives beyond simple effect categorization. Yes, it’s a digital reverb. But like other Old Blood designs, it’s such a feature-rich, creative take on that effect that to think of it as a reverb feels not only imprecise but unfair.
In this case, reverb describes how the DSS works more than how it sounds. I’ve come to think of this pedal as a reverb-based synthesizer, where reverb is the jumping-off point for sonic creation. As such, the sounds coming out of the Dark Star can be used as subtle sweetener or sound design textures, opening up worlds that might otherwise be unreachable.
Reverb and Beyond
Functionally speaking, the DSS starts with reverb and applies a high-/low-pass filter, two pitch shifters, each with a two-octave range in each direction, plus bit-crushing and distortion. Controls for lag (pre-delay), multiply (feedback), and decay follow, with mini knobs for volume, mix, and spread. Additional control features include presets, MIDI functionality, plus expression and aux control.
The DSS can be routed in mono, stereo, or mono-in/stereo-out. Both jacks are single TRS, and it’s easy to switch between settings by holding down the bypass switch and selecting via the preset button.
Although it sounds great in mono, stereo is where this iteration of the Dark Star—which follows the mono Dark Star and Dark Star V2—really comes alive. Starting with the filter, both pitch shifters, and crush knobs at noon—all have center detents—affords the most neutral settings. The result is a pad reverb, as synthetic as but less sparkly than a shimmer. The filter control is a fine way to distinguish clean and effect signals. In low-pass mode, the effect signal can easily get dark and spooky while maintaining fidelity and without getting murky. On the other end, high-pass settings are handy for refining those reverb pads and keeping them from washing out the clarity of the clean signal.
Lower fidelity is close at hand when you want it. The crush control, when turned counterclockwise, reduces the bit rate of the effect signal, evoking all kinds of digitally compromised sounds, from early samplers to cell phones, depending on how you flavor it. Counterclockwise applies distortion to the reverb signal. There’s a lot to explore within the wide ranges of the two pitch controls, too. With a four-octave range, quantized in half steps, the combinations can be extreme, and Dark Star takes on a life of its own.
Formless Reflections of Matter
The DSS is easy to get acquainted with, especially for a pedal with so many features, 10 knobs, and two footswitches. I quickly got a feel for the reverb itself at the most neutral filter and pitch settings, where I enjoyed the weight a responsive, textural pad lent to everything I played.
With just the filter and crush controls, there’s plenty to explore. Sitting in the sweet spot between a pair of vintage Fenders, I conjured a Twin Peaks-inspired hazy fog to accompany honeyed diatonic arpeggios, slowly filtering and crushing that sound into a dark, evil low-end whir as chords leaned toward dissonance. Eventually, I cranked the high-pass filter, producing an early MP3-in-a-good-way “shhh” that was fine accompaniment to sparser voicings along my fretboard. It was a true sonic journeyThe pitch controls increase possibilities for both ambience and dissonance. Simple tweaks push the boundaries of possibility in exponentially deeper directions. For more subtle thickening and accompaniment sounds, adding octaves, which are easy to tune by ear, offers precise tone sculpting, dimension, and a wider frequency range. Hearing simple harmonic ideas plucked against celeste- and organ-like reverberations kept me in the Harold Budd and Brian Eno space for long enough to consider new recording projects.
There is as much fun to be had at the highest feedback settings on the DSS. Be forewarned: Spend too much time there and you might need a name for your new ambient band. Cranking the multiply and decay knobs, I’d drop in a few notes, or maybe just a chord, and get to work scanning the pitch knobs and sculpting with the filter. Soon, I conjured bold Ligeti-inspired orchestral sounds fit for a guitar remix of 2001: A Space Odyssey.
The Verdict
The Dark Star Stereo strikes a nice balance between deep control, a wide range of sonic rewards, playability, and an always-sounds-great vibe. The controls are easy to use, so it doesn’t take long to get in the zone, and once you do, there’s plenty to explore. Throughout my time with the DSS, I was impressed with its high-fidelity clarity. I attribute that to the filter, which allows clean and reverb signals to perform dry/wet balance and EQ functions. That alone encouraged more adventurous and creative exploration. Though not every player needs this kind of tone tool, the DSS is a must-check-out effect for anyone serious about wild reverb adventures, and it’s simple and intuitive enough to be a good fit for anyone just starting exploration of those zones. However you come to the Dark Star, it’s a unique-sounding pedal that deserves attention. PG