Stevie Van Zandt with āNumber One,ā the ā80s reissue Stratocasterāwith custom paisley pickguard from luthier Dave Petilloāthat heās been playing for the last quarter century or so.
Thereās a life-size cameo of a go-go dancer in banana yellow; sheās frozen in mid hip shimmy. One wall displays rock posters and B-movie key art, anchored by a 3D rendering of Creamās Disraeli Gearsalbum cover that swishes and undulates as you walk past it. Van Zandtās shelves are stuffed with countless DVDs, from Louis Prima to the J. Geils Band performing on the German TV concert seriesRockpalast. There are three copies ofIggy and the Stooges: Live in Detroit. Videos of the great ā60s-music TV showcases, from Hullabaloo to Dean Martinās The Hollywood Palace, sit here. Hundreds of books about rock ānā roll, from Greil Marcusās entire output to Nicholas Schaffnerās seminal tome, The Beatles Forever, form a library in the next room.
But I havenāt seen this yet because the elevator is dead, and I am in it. Our trap is tiny, about 5' by 5'. A dolly filled with television production equipment is beside me. Thereās a production assistant whom Iāve never met until this morning and another person whoās brand new to me, too, Geoff Sanoff. It turns out that heās Van Zandtās engineerāthe guy who runs this studio. And as Iāll discover shortly, heās also one of the several sentinels who watch over Stevie Van Zandtās guitars.
Thereās nothing to do now but wait for the NYFD, so Sanoff and I get acquainted. We discover weāre both from D.C. and know some of the same people in Washingtonās music scene. We talk about gear. We talk about this television project. Iām here today assisting an old pal, director Erik Nelson, best known for producing Werner Herzogās most popular documentaries, like Grizzly Man and Cave of Forgotten Dreams. Van Zandt has agreed to participate in a television pilot about the British Invasion. After about half an hour, the elevator doors suddenly slide open, and weāre rescued, standing face-to-face with three New York City firefighters.
As our camera team sets up the gear, Sanoff beckons me to a closet off the studioās control room. I get the sense I am about to get a consolation prize for standing trapped in an elevator for the last 30 minutes. He pulls a guitar case off the shelfāitās stenciled in paint with the words āLittle Stevenā on its topāsnaps open the latches, and instantly I am face to face with Van Zandtās well-worn 1957 Stratocaster. Sanoff hands it to me, and Iām suddenly holding what may as well be the thunderbolt of Zeus for an E Street Band fan. My jaw drops when he lets me plug it in so he can get some levels on his board, and the clean, snappy quack of the nearly 70-year-old pickups fills the studio. For decades, Springsteen nuts have enjoyed a legendary 1978 filmed performance of āRosalitaā from Phoenix, Arizona, that now lives on YouTube. This is the Stratocaster Van Zandt had slung over his shoulder that night. Itās the same guitar he wields in the famous No Nukes concert film shot at Madison Square Garden a year later, in 1979. My mind races. The British Invasion is all well and essential. But now Iām thinking about Van Zandtās relationship with his guitars.
Stevie Van Zandt's Gear
Van Zandtās guitar concierge Andy Babiuk helped him plunge deeper down the Rickenbacker rabbit hole. Currently, Van Zandt has six Rickenbackers backstage: two 6-strings and four 12-strings.
Guitars
- 1957 Fender Stratocaster (studio only)
- ā80s Fender ā57 Stratocaster reissue āNumber Oneā
- Gretsch Tennessean
- 1955 GibsonĀ Les Paul Custom āBlack Beautyā (studio only)
- Rickenbacker Fab Gear 2024 Limited Edition ā60s Style 360 Model (candy apple green)
- Rickenbacker Fab Gear 2023 Limited Edition ā60s Style 360 Model (snowglo)
- Rickenbacker 2018 Limited Edition ā60s Style 360 Fab Gear (jetglo)
- Two Rickenbacker 1993Plus 12-strings (candy apple purple and SVZ blue)
- Rickenbacker 360/12C63 12-string (fireglo)
- Vox Teardrop (owned by Andy Babiuk)
Amps
- Two Vox AC30s
- Two Vox 2x12 cabinets
Effects
- Boss Space Echo
- Boss Tremolo
- Boss Rotary Ensemble
- Durham Electronics Sex Drive
- Durham Electronics Mucho Busto
- Durham Electronics Zia Drive
- Electro-Harmonix Satisfaction
- Ibanez Tube Screamer
- Voodoo Labs Ground Control Pro switcher
Strings and Picks
- DāAddario (.095ā.44)
- DāAndrea Heavy
Van Zandt has reached a stage of reflection in his career. Besides the Grammy-nominated HBO film, Stevie Van Zandt: Disciple, which came out in 2024, he recently wrote and published his autobiography, Unrequited Infatuations (2021), a rollicking read in which he pulls no punches and makes clear he still strives to do meaningful things in music and life.
His laurels would weigh him down if they were actually wrapped around his neck. In the E Street Band, Van Zandt has participated in arguably the most incredible live group in rock ānā roll history. And donāt forget Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes or Little Steven and the Disciples of Soul. He created both the Underground Garage and Outlaw Country radio channels on Sirius/XM. He started a music curriculum program called TeachRock that provides no-cost resources and other programs to schools across the country. Then thereās the politics. Via his 1985 record, Sun City, Van Zandt is credited with blasting many of the load-bearing bricks that brought the walls of South African apartheid tumbling into dust. He also acted in arguably the greatest television drama in American history, with his turn as Silvio Dante in The Sopranos.
Puzzlingly, Van Zandtās autobiography lacks any detail on his relationship with the electric guitar. And Sanoff warns me that Van Zandt is ānot a gearhead.ā Instead he has an organization in place to keep his guitar life spinning like plates on the end of pointed sticks. Besides Sanoff, there are three others: Ben Newberry has been Van Zandtās guitar tech since the beginning of 1982. Andy Babiuk, owner of Rochester, New York, guitar shop Fab Gear and author of essential collector reference books Beatles Gear and Rolling Stones Gear (the latter co-authored by Greg Prevost) functions as Van Zandtās guitar concierge. Lastly, luthier Dave Petillo, based in Asbury Park, New Jersey, oversees all the maintenance and customization on Van Zandtās axes.
āI took one lesson, and they start to teach you the notes. I donāt care about the notes.ā āStevie Van Zandt
I crawl onto Zoom with Van Zandt for a marathon session and come away from our 90 minutes with the sense that he is a man of dichotomies. Sure, heās a guitar slinger, but he considers his biggest strengths to be as an arranger, producer, and songwriter. āI donāt feel that being a guitar player is my identity,ā he tells me. āFor 40 years, ever since I made my first solo record, I just have not felt that I express myself as a guitar player. I still enjoy it when I do it; Iām not ambivalent. When I play a solo, I am in all the way, and I play a solo like I would like to hear if I were in the audience. But the guitar part is really part of the songās arrangement. And a great solo is a composed solo. Great solos are ones you can sing, like Jimi Hendrixās solo in āAll Along the Watchtower.āā
In his autobiography, Van Zandt mentions that his first guitar was an acoustic belonging to his grandfather. āI took one lesson, and they start to teach you the notes. I donāt care about the notes,ā Van Zandt tells me. āThe teacher said I had natural ability. Iām thinking, if I got natural ability, then what the fuck do I need you for? So I never went back. After that, I got my first electric, an Epiphone. It was about slowing down the records to figure out with my ear what they were doing. It was seeing live bands and standing in front of that guitar player and watching what they were doing. It was praying when a band went on TV that the cameraman would occasionally go to the right place and show what the guitar player was doing instead of putting the camera on the lead singer all the time. And Iām sure it was the same for everybody. There was no concept of rock ānā roll lessons. School of Rock wouldnāt exist for another 30 years. So, you had to go to school yourself.ā
By the end of the 1960s, Van Zandt tells me he had made a conscious decision about what kind of player he wanted to be. āI realized that I really wasnāt that interested in becoming a virtuoso guitar player, per se. I was more interested in making sure I could play the guitar solo that would complement the song. I got more into the songs than the nature of musicianship.ā
After the Beatles and the Stones broke the British Invasion wide open, bands like Cream and the Yardbirds most influenced him. āGeorge Harrison would have that perfect 22-second guitar solo,ā Van Zandt remembers. āKeith Richards. Dave Davies. Then, the harder stuff started coming. Jeff Beck in the Yardbirds. Eric Clapton with things like āWhite Room.ā But the songs stayed in a pop configuration, three minutes each or so. Youād have this cool guitar-based song with a 15-second, really amazing Jeff Beck solo in it. Thatās what I liked. Later, the jam bands came, but I was not into that. My attention deficit disorder was not working for the longer solos,ā he jokes. Watch a YouTube video of any recent E Street Band performance where Van Zandt solos, and the punch and impact of his approach and attack are apparent. At Nationals Park in Washington, D.C., last year, his solo on āRosalitaā was 13 powerful seconds.
Van Zandt and Bruce Springsteenās relationship goes back to their earliest days on the Jersey shore. āEverybody had a different guitar; your guitar was your identity,ā recalls Van Zandt. āAt some point, a couple of years later, I remember Bruce calling me and asking me for my permission to switch to Telecaster. At that point, I was ready to switch to Stratocaster.ā
Photo by Pamela Springsteen
Van Zandt left his Epiphone behind for his first Fender. āI started to notice that the guitar superstars at the time were playing Telecasters. Mike Bloomfield. Jeff Beck. Even Eric Clapton played one for a while,ā he tells me. āI went down to Jackās Music Shop in Red Bank, New Jersey, because he had the first Telecaster in our area and couldnāt sell it; it was just sitting there. I bought it for 90 bucks.ā
In those days, and around those parts, players only had one guitar. Van Zandt recalls, āEverybody had a different guitar; your guitar was your identity. At some point, a couple of years later, I remember Bruce calling me and asking me for my permission to switch to Telecaster. At that point, I was ready to switch to Stratocaster, because Jimi Hendrix had come in and Jeff Beck had switched to a Strat. They all kind of went from Telecaster to Les Pauls. And then some of them went on to the Stratocaster. For me, the Les Paul was just too out of reach. It was too expensive, and it was just too heavy. So I said, Iām going to switch to a Stratocaster. It felt a little bit more versatile.ā
Van Zandt still employs Stratocasters, and besides the 1957 I strummed, he was seen with several throughout the ā80s and ā90s. But for the last 20 or 25 years, Van Zandt has mainly wielded a black Fender ā57 Strat reissue from the ā80s with a maple fretboard and a gray pearloid pickguard. He still uses that Stratādubbed āNumber Oneāābut the pickguard has been switched to one sporting a purple paisley pattern that was custom-made by Dave Petillo.
Petillo comes from New Jersey luthier royalty and followed in the footsteps of his late father, Phil Petillo. At a young age, the elder Petillo became an apprentice to legendary New York builder John DāAngelico. Later, he sold Bruce Springsteen the iconic Fender Esquire thatās seen on the Born to Run album cover and maintained and modified that guitar and all of Bruceās other axes until he passed away in 2010. Phil worked out of a studio in the basement of their home, not far from Asbury Park. Artists dropped in, and Petillo has childhood memories of playing pick-up basketball games in his backyard with members of the E Street Band. (He also recalls showing his Lincoln Logs to Johnny Cash and once mistaking Jerry Garcia for Santa Claus.)
āI was more interested in making sure I could play the guitar solo that would complement the song. I got more into the songs than the nature of musicianship.ā āStevie Van Zandt
āIāve known Stevie Van Zandt my whole life,ā says Petillo. āMy dad used to work on his 1957 Strat. That guitar today has updated tuners, a bone nut, new string trees, and a refret that was done by Dad long ago. I think one volume pot may have been changed. But it still has the original pickups.ā Petillo is responsible for a lot of the aesthetic flair seen on Van Zandtās instruments. He continues, āStevie is so much fun to work with. I love incorporating colors into things, and Stevie gets that. When you talk to a traditional Telecaster or Strat player, and you say, āI want to do a tulip paisley pickguard in neon blue-green,ā theyāre like, āHoly cow, thatās too much!ā But for Stevie, itās just natural. So I always text him with pickguard designs, asking him, āWhich one do you like?ā And he calls me a wild man; he says, āI donāt have that many Strats to put them on!ā But Iāll go to Ben Newberry and say, āBen, I made these pickguards; letās get them on the guitar. And Iāll go backstage, and weāll put them on. I just love that relationship; Stevie is down for it.ā
Petillo takes care of the electronics on Van Zandtās guitars. Almost all of the Strats are modified with an internal Alembic Stratoblaster preamp circuit, which Van Zandt can physically toggle on and off using a switch housed just above the input jack. Van Zandt tells me, āThat came because I got annoyed with the whole pedal thing. Iām a performer onstage, and Iām integrated with the audience and I like the freedom to move. And if Iām across the stage and all of a sudden Bruce nods to me to take a solo, or thereās a bit in the song that requires a little bit of distortion, itās just easier to have that; sometimes, Iāll need that extra little boost for a part Iām throwing in, and itās convenient.ā
In recent times, Van Zandt has branched out from the Stratocaster, which has a lot to do with Andy Babiuk's influence. The two met 20 years ago, and Babiukās band, the Chesterfield Kings, is on Van Zandtās Wicked Cool Records. āHeād call me up and ask me things like, āWhatās Brian Jones using on this song?āā explains Babiuk. āWhen Iād ask him why, heād tell me, āBecause I want to have that guitar.ā Itās a common thing for me to get calls and texts from him like that. And thereās something many people overlook that Stevie doesnāt advertise: Heās a ripping guitar player. People think of him as playing chords and singing backup for Bruce, but the guy rips. And not just on guitar, on multiple instruments.ā
Van Zandt tells me he wanted to bring more 12-string to the E Street Band this tour, ājust to kind of differentiate the tone.ā He explains, āNils is doing his thing, and Bruce is doing his thing, and I wanted to do more 12-string.ā He laughs, āI went full Paul Kantner!ā Babiuk helped Van Zandt plunge deeper down the Rickenbacker rabbit hole. Currently, Van Zandt has six Rickenbackers backstage: two 6-strings and four 12-strings. Each 12-string has a modified nut made by Petillo from ancient woolly mammoth tusk, and the D, A, and low E strings are inverted with their octave.
Van Zandt explains this to me: āI find that the strings ring better when the high ones are on top. Iām not sure if thatās how Roger McGuinn did it, but it works for me. Iām also playing a wider neck.ā
Babiuk tells me about a unique Rick in Van Zandtās rack of axes: āI know the guys at Rickenbacker well, and they did a run of 30 basses in candy apple purple for my shop. I showed one to Stevie, and purple is his color; he loves it. He asked me to get him a 12-string in the same color, and I told him, āThey donāt do one-offs; they donāt have a custom shop,ā but itās hard to say no to the guy! So I called Rickenbacker and talked them into it. I explained, āHeāll play it a lot on this upcoming tour.ā They made him a beautiful one with his OM logo.ā
The purple one-off is a 1993Plus model and sports a 1 3/4" wide neckā1/8" wider than a normal Rickenbacker. Van Zandt loved it so much that he had Babiuk wrestle with Rickenbacker again to build another one in baby blue. Petillo has since outfitted them with paisley-festooned custom pickguards. When guitar tech Newberry shows me these unique axes backstage, I can see the input jack on the purple guitar is labeled with serial number 01001.
āSome of my drive is based on gratitude,ā says Van Zandt, āfeeling like we are the luckiest guys in the luckiest generation ever.ā
Photo by Rob DeMartin
Van Zandt also currently plays a white Vox Teardrop. That guitar is a prototype owned by Babiuk. āStevie wanted a Teardrop,ā Babiuk tells me, ābut I explained that the vintage ones are hit and missāthe ones made in the U.K. were often better than the ones manufactured in Italy. Korg now owns Vox, and I have a new Teardrop prototype from them in my personal collection. When I showed it to him, he loved it and asked me to get him one. I had to tell him, āI canāt; itās a prototype, thereās only one,ā and he asked me to sell him mine,ā he chuckles. āI told him, āItās my fucking personal guitar, itās not for sale!ā So I ended up lending it to him for this tour, and I told him, āRemember, this is my guitar; donāt get too happy with it, okay?ā
āHe asked me why that particular guitar sounds and feels so good. Besides being a prototype built by only one guy, the single-coil pickupsā output is abnormally hot, and the neck feels like a nice ā60s Fender neck. Stevieās obviously a dear friend of mine, and he can hold onto it for as long as he wants. Iām glad itās getting played. It was just hanging in my office.ā
Van Zandt tells me how Babiukās Vox Teardrop sums up everything he wants from his tone, and says, āItās got a wonderfully clean, powerful sound. Like Brian Jones got on āThe Last Time.ā Thatās my whole thing; thatās the trickātrying to get the power without too much distortion. Bruce and Nils get plenty of distortion; I am trying to be the clean rhythm guitar all the time.ā
If Van Zandt has a consigliere like Tony Soprano had Silvio Dante, thatās Newberry. Newberry has techād nearly every gig with Van Zandt since 1982. āBruce shows move fast,ā he tells me. āSo when thereās a guitar change for Stevie, and there are many of them, Iām at the top of the stairs, and we switch quickly. Thereās maybe one or two seconds, and if he needs to tell me something, I hear it. Heās Bruceās musical director, so he may say something like, āRemind me tomorrow to go over the background vocals on āGhosts,āā or something like that. And I take notes during the show.ā
āEverybody had a different guitar; your guitar was your identity. At some point, a couple of years later, I remember Bruce calling me and asking me for my permission to switch to a Telecaster.ā āStevie Van Zandt
When I ask Newberry how he defines Van Zandtās relationship to the guitar, he doesnāt hesitate, snapping back, āItās all in his head. His playing is encyclopedic, whether itās Bruce or anything else. He may show up at soundcheck and start playing the Byrds, but itās not āTambourine Man,ā itās something obscure like āBells of Rhymney.ā People may not get it, but Iāve known him long enough to know whatās happening. Heās got everything already under his fingers. Everything.ā
As such, Van Zandt says he never practices. āThe only time I touch a guitar between tours is if Iām writing something or maybe arranging backing vocal harmonies on a production,ā he tells me.
Before we say goodbye, I tell Van Zandt about my time stuck in his elevator, and his broad grin signals that I may not be the only one to have suffered that particular purgatory. When I ask him about the 1957 Stratocaster I got to play upon my release, he recalls: āBruce Springsteen gave me that guitar. Iāve only ever had one guitar stolen in my life, and it was in the very early days of my joining the E Street Band. I only joined temporarily for what I thought would be about seven gigs, and in those two weeks or so, my Stratocaster was stolen. It was a 1957 or 1958. Bruce felt bad about that and replaced that lost guitar with this one. So Iāve had it a long, long time. Once that first one was stolen, I decided I would resist having a personal relationship with any one guitar. But that one being a gift from Bruce makes it special. I will never take it back on the road.ā
After 50 years of rock ānā roll, if there is one word to sum up Stevie Van Zandt, it may be ārestlessāāan adjective you sense from reading his autobiography. He gets serious and tells me, āIām always trying to catch up. The beginning of accomplishing something came quite late to me. I feel like I havenāt done nearly enough. What are we on this planet trying to do?ā he asks rhetorically. āWeāre trying to realize our potential and maybe leave this place one percent better for the next guy. And some of my drive is based on gratitude, feeling like we are the luckiest guys in the luckiest generation ever. Thatās what Iām doing: I want to give something back. I feel an obligation.ā
YouTube It
āRosalitaā is a perennial E Street Band showstopper. Hereās a close-up video from Philadelphiaās Citizens Bank Park last summer. Van Zandtās brief but commanding guitar spotlight shines just past the 4:30 mark.
