"A 2000 black lacquer electric guitar with mahogany neck and pearl inlay fingerboard. Marked with number 9005. Printed on rear of neck, "" Crafted by Jim Foote and Ken Hitsman"". Slash played this guitar on Guns N' Roses' UYI tour for the track ""Double talkin' jive."""
When you think about the most name-checked guitarist of all time, who do you think of? Hendrix? EVH? Good guesses, but we think it’s gotta be Waukesha, Wisconsin’s own Les Paul. Though his name lies atop one of the most popular guitar models of all time, there’s so much more to Les. His inventions span modern recording history, and with his music—whether with then-wife Mary Ford, solo, with Chet Atkins—he left a mark across genres. And though neither host owns a Les Paul, we’ve both shared space with The Log.
I recently published my book Creative Rhythms for Melodic Instruments or Think Like a Drummer, and I’m delighted to say it has been met with great enthusiasm by players and educators. The premise is simple: Take some of the most iconic drummers—from all genres—and use “in-the-style-of” drum fills as source material for melodic phrases, all in a variety of scale and arpeggio patterns, as well as multiple keys.
In addition to the notation, I also released audio examples in a call-and-response manner, allowing musicians to play along with the melodic phrases, with the isolated drums, or respond to the phrases with their own ideas. (Note: The audio for the book features drums and piano, as the book is available in several versions: guitar tab, bass tab, treble clef, bass clef, Bb instruments, and Eb instruments. Nevertheless, for this lesson I have specifically recorded electric guitar.) I also want to point out that the examples in this lesson are not duplicates from the book, but rather, as the book encourages, creative variations.
Icons of the Drum Kit
As I wrote in my book’s introduction, there are countless phenomenal drummers absent from my examples. I can name at least two dozen more drummers I wish were included (in fact … I’m working on Vol. 2). So let’s not nitpick as to who’s the best drummer, let’s just start playing: In the style of …
Ex. 1
Ringo Starr
It is unnecessary to rehash how underrated Ringo is. Instead, listen to the third verse of “Hello, Goodbye,” “A Day in the Life,” or any of the Live at the BBC recordings. Ringo has style! Ex. 1 is a Ringo-style fill, with lots of space (drummers, it’s okay to rest), and features both descending D Dorian and C major scales. (Remember, D Dorian is just C major starting on D.) Emphasize those rests, people!
Ex. 2
Bill Ward (Black Sabbath)
Of all the drummers in my book, I think Bill Ward’s fills are the most recognizable. Bill has distinct flair and an overlooked swing feel. To honor Black Sabbath in general, Ex. 2 features E minor pentatonic and E harmonic minor, played in descending groups of three. That’s down three notes, back one, and down three from there. Groups of three is a rather cliché move, still, when you add a unique rhythm—as demonstrated here—the pattern takes on new life.
Ex. 3
Neil Peart
What more needs to be written about Peart? Or Rush in general? Nothing. Legends. The end. Ex. 3 is based on one of Peart’s most iconic fills (you’ll guess it.) and uses A Phrygian dominant, in two octaves, in homage to Alex Lifeson’s solo on “YYZ.”
Ex. 4
Richard Bailey
Bailey is arguably the least well-known drummer in my book, but I guarantee, if you love guitar music, you know his playing. Bailey is the drummer on Jeff Beck’s Blow by Blow (and many other albums and singles). Ex. 4 is the first to showcase arpeggios, in this instance, F#7 to Emaj7, implying an F# Mixolydian sound, from the home key of B, emphasizing the V chord. Think “Freeway Jam.” One thing that makes these rhythms unique are the ties from the “and” of 1 to the 2, as well as the tie from the “a” of 2 to the 3. This is tricky!
Ex. 5
Stewart Copeland
One of my favorite things about Copeland is that he rarely played the same thing two nights in a row. I highly recommend listening to live recordings from the 1979–1980 Reggatta de Blanc tour, particularly the breakdown section (after the guitar solo) of “So Lonely.” Consistently brilliant and incomparable. They might have been the best band in the world on that tour. Ex. 5 provides us with a Copeland-esque fill (note that grace note on beat 4) and a C#m pentatonic lick with bends and pull-offs, à la “Message in a Bottle.” If you’ve never paid attention to Andy Summers’ fills in that song, do so. He’s more B.B. King than “King of Pain” on that one.
Ex. 6
Chester Thompson
It’s difficult to know who Thompson is most famous for playing with, Weather Report, Santana, Genesis, or, for my money, Frank Zappa. Thompson’s tenure with Zappa allowed him to truly experiment with rhythm. Listen to “Approximate” on You Can’t Do That on Stage Anymore, Vol. 2 The Helsinki Concert. Ex. 6, in keeping with Zappa’s penchant for two-chord jams, demonstrates more arpeggios, F7 to Gm7, in the home key of Bb major. In this one-measure phrase, we have eighth-notes, dotted-eighths, 16th-notes, and 32nd-notes. This should test your rhythmic abilities.
The final two examples feature drummers who are not in my book, so I’m happy to share them here: John Bonham (of Led Zeppelin) and Carlton Barrett (of Bob Marley and the Wailers).
Ex. 7
John Bonham
No, I’m not highlightingBonhamkick drum triplets. Rather, Ex. 7 features a Bonham snare/floor tom/kick drum combination. And the phrase I created also pays homage to his bandmate Jimmy Page, with an A blues riff, modulating to C blues (name that tune!) that includes more guitaristic phrasing.
Carlton Barrett
While Bob Marley might be the face of reggae, Carlton Barrett, along with his brother, Aston, on bass, may be the defining sound of reggae, as the brother duo played on countless Marley recordings and live performances. While Ex. 8 does not include a “one drop” (look it up, or just listen to “One Drop” by the Wailers), it is still quintessential Barrett. The melodic phrase is built with ascending arpeggios, Dmaj7 and Gmaj7, the I to IV chords, in two different patterns and positions.
Infinite Rhythmic Combinations
Besides the fact that I enjoy playing the examples myself, one of the reasons I wrote my book is because I believe rhythm is the most important feature in music, and yet it is underutilized. While these examples demonstrate quite a bit of variety, the fact of the matter is, rhythmic combinations are infinite. I encourage you to studiously experiment with uncommon phrasing. Intuition is great, but eventually, in my experience, it becomes unconsciously repetitive. So sit down and really work on distinctive rhythmic phrases. I promise you, you will never run out of new ones.
A fierce and flexible Gated Fuzz for modern players.
Berserker Electronics, creators of the Prehistoric Dog preamp and Aquanaut delay, has announced the release of their latest sonic weapon: Velcrow – a raw, percussive gated fuzz pedal designed for players who crave filthy textures with tight control.
Inspired by the beloved and discontinued Way Huge Conquistador, the Velcrow takes that sputtery, aggressive sound and pushes it further – offering more dynamic range, more usable tones, and a sharper, more responsive gate. Velcrow is built to deliver snarling fuzz with a snappy gate, thriving on punchy riffs, abrupt cutoffs, and glitchy sustain.
Despite its intensity Velcrow is also intuitive to dial in, with carefully tuned controls that let you shape your attack and decay without ever sounding flabby or buried.
Key features include:
Inspired by the Way Huge Conquistador, but with expanded range and control
Tightly gated fuzz with sharp attack and fast decay
Simple, intuitive controls in a pedalboard-friendly enclosure
Alan Sparhawk, center, is flanked on both sides by the members of bluegrass band Trampled by Turtles. Like Sparhawk, they’re from Duluth, Minnesota.
Photo by Alexa Viscius
Alan Sparhawk has been a friend of Trampled By Turtles for a long time. Both parties came up in Duluth, Minnesota, and Low—Sparhawk’s often ethereal slowcore band with his wife, Mimi Parker, who died from ovarian cancer in late 2022—took Trampled By Turtles out on the road very early in the latter’s career. But few would’ve expected a studio collaboration between Sparhawk and the bluegrass merchants.
With Trampled By Turtles makes one wonder why. The record is deeply moving, often pulsing with powerful forward momentum, driven by Sparhawk’s unadorned voice like a herald calling out that something heavy this way comes. Of course, it arrives—especially in the bruised ecstasy of “Screaming Song” and the mournful “Don’t Take Your Light.”
“Some of the songs are the first things that fell out of me in response to loss and grief,” Sparhawk says over the phone from the Quad Cities, on tour with Circuit des Yeux. “Some of them are pretty pointed, and I really felt the duty to do those songs justice, to honor them for what they were and what they came from. White Roses, My God was literally just my head exploding and me running away from the guitar and from my voice and trying to figure out some way to let this explosion out of my skull, this screaming, you know? And this thing with the Turtles is the first breath.”
With Trampled by Turtles finds Sparhawk still making sense of the loss of his life partner and bandmate, Mimi Parker.
The two albums were recorded around the same time—even sharing the songs “Heaven” and “Get Still”—but they’re polar opposites, sonically. White Roses, My God trades in all-encompassing electronic soundscapes and so much vocal modulation that Sparhawk is unrecognizable, while With Trampled By Turtles feels stripped down, and features his voice rising clear above the bluegrass group’s earthy, mostly acoustic string work.
“It’s this unified wall of strings coming at you,” Sparhawk says about Trampled By Turtles. “There’s something egoless about the way they play together and the way they make sound. It doesn’t get broken down the same way a lot of bluegrass ensembles approach things.”
“I remember being still pretty scared and uncomfortable with my voice after years of singing with Mim and from the loss in general.”
After Parker died, Trampled By Turtles extended Sparhawk an invitation to hit the road for a few dates with them, an experience that brought the two closer and planted a seed that bloomed in Cannon Falls, Minnesota, in the winter of 2023. Sparhawk came in at the tail end of a Trampled By Turtles recording session there with a handful of songs, some old, some new, and the album came together swiftly. The result is a recording that foregrounds feeling, naturality, and spontaneity—more a pouring out than a piecing together. It’s often jarring how bare Sparhawk’s voice is, akin to an exposed nerve. It sounds more than a bit like a leap of faith, and he mentions that his only skill is diving into the unknown. “I’m quick to jump off the cliff,” he says.
Sparhawk performs songs from White Roses, My God with his son, Cyrus Sparhawk, on bass and drummer Eric Pollard.
Photo by Claire Powell
“I remember being still pretty scared and uncomfortable with my voice after years of singing with Mim and from the loss in general,” Sparhawk says. “It really was making me feel very, very lost and awkward, singing. And I think during this Turtles thing—because this opportunity had come up and these guys had been so friendly and gracious with me—I consciously remember having to go, like, ‘I know I’m still not comfortable hearing my voice right now, but I have to just trust. I have to trust that this is what I can do, that I can sing, and that I’ve been working hard on this all my life. For the sake of the moment, put aside my confusion, and just trust that maybe five or six months down the line, I’ll be able to look back and decide whether I was comfortable with it or not.’ And honestly, it helped.”
“When I was a teenager, I remember very specifically saying that I like the guitar, and I really wanted to take it seriously, and I made a pact with myself to play it every day.”
It also marks a coming back to guitar for Sparhawk, the instrument that remains his “main physical connection to music.” But one needs to get away to come back. He thrives off of switching things up, much more able to see the big picture when he’s thrown into situations where he’s doing different things and forced to look at music differently. He says he struggles with the guitar, and has to practice often to stay fluent with what he wants to do. An opportunity to ponder something he hasn’t pondered, or play in a way that he hasn’t quite had to before, is always positive for him.
“I’ve always insisted on playing every day,” Sparhawk says. “When I was a teenager, I remember very specifically saying that I like the guitar, and I really wanted to take it seriously, and I made a pact with myself to play it every day. So it’s always there. It’s a world in my brain that I feel pretty happy in. But at the same time, I have to constantly be engaged with it to keep my footing there.”
His own approach to music-making and his musical community seems to be providing plenty of opportunity for challenges; the doomy goth-rock of Circuit Des Yeux sounds worlds apart from With Trampled By Turtles, which sounds worlds apart from White Roses, My God. And yet, it all exists in Sparhawk’s musical world—a world he says he feels blessed and grateful to be in, one that fascinated him as a child and that he wanted to be a part of. It’s given back in spades, too. Low, of course, was a family affair, and so is this new record, on which Sparhawk’s daughter, Hollis, also sings, during the chorus of “Not Broken.” One gets the feeling that connection has always been the point.
“Anyone who’s been blessed with friends that are there for them when they’ve had losses—those are the most important things in life,” Sparhawk says. “I think music is there to remind us of that, and give us a really amazing opportunity to feel that with each other and to bless each other.”
YouTube
Lose yourself in this peaceful, psychedelic rendering of “Get Still,” off of With Trampled by Turtles.
Clockwise from top, Page, Plant, Jones, and Bonham, when they were becoming Led Zeppelin.
Making great music requires pushing the envelope, not pushing buttons.
As a teen, I signed over my soul to the Columbia House mail-order mafia and bought the first few Led Zeppelin albums. I wore those albums out, dropping the needle in front of the “Heartbreaker” solo, “Black Dog,” and “Stairway” daily. Eventually I moved on to other obsessions and forgot how amazing this band was—until last night, when I watched Becoming Led Zeppelin, Bernard MacMahon’s 2025 documentary. The film, which earned a 10-minute ovation at the Venice Film Festival and grossed $13.2-million by May 2025, charts the explosive rise of Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, John Paul Jones, and John Bonham from their 1968 formation to 1970’s global dominance.
Although Page and Jones had worked together as session musicians, the first time the Zep lineup played music together was a jam in a tiny, rented rehearsal room in 1968. They tested their collective sound, starting with blues standards like “Train Kept A-Rollin’” and “Smokestack Lightning.” Forty-four days later, they were recording their first album, which they completed in 36 studio hours. This raw fusion of blues, rock, and psychedelic chaos, using a 4-track recorder and a shoestring budget of £1,800 (about $4,300, then), helped usher along a paradigm shift in music. Tracks like “Dazed and Confused” and “Good Times Bad Times” took wild risks, blending modal riffs, orchestral swells, and improvisational fire. Led Zeppelin was also incredibly diverse, with the heavy blues balanced by the acoustic “Black Mountain Side,” which was inspired by folk and Indian music.Zep II pushed further, from the primal riff of “Whole Lotta Love” to the semi-pastoral “Ramble On.” Page’s violin bow on guitar and Bonham’s heavier-than-heavy drumming defied norms, while Plant’s primal vocals careened between octaves.
Most of today’s modern music is polished to predictability, sterilized, and quantized. I bet that 99 percent of the sessions I’ve played on over the past two decades were all built on a grid with a stagnant click. Zep’s approach to tempos is more like classical music, where the tempo follows the emotion. “Dazed and Confused” starts with a slow, brooding tempo (around 60 to 70 bpm) driven by a descending bassline and Page’s eerie guitar. The middle section accelerates into a frenetic jam (around 120 to 140 bpm), with Bonham’s aggressive drumming and Page’s wild soloing, before slowing back down for the haunting violin-bow section and a final explosive ramp-up to 140 bpm. On “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You,” the transitions are so abrupt it feels like a car ran a red light and hit your passenger door. Zep would have been boring if they were constrained by a click.
“If ‘Stairway to Heaven’ debuted today, would anybody hear it?”
Zeppelin’s tones and timbres also kept it unpredictable and endlessly interesting. Although John Paul Jones’ ’62 Jazz bass, Bonham’s Ludwig Super Classic, and Page’s guitars did most of the heavy lifting, Zep gave us vast sonic variety. Between the four members, they played 15 instruments on their first three albums and went to great lengths to make every song its own, unique sound. Yet, regardless of the instrumentation, Zeppelin always sounds like Zeppelin.
Rock ’n’ roll was built on experimentation and rebellion. It’s truly a DIY genre. So how did modern rock become so homogeneous and tame? Today’s unlimited digital tracks and AI tools (used in 60 percent of 2024’s Top 40, according to MusicTech.com) encourage overproduction, smoothing all quirks along the way. Radio and streaming exacerbate this as labels push 3-minute singles with hooks in 30 seconds to fit ad-heavy radio and prevent Spotify skips. Zeppelin’s era had FM stations playing 7-minute epics. Today, labels prioritize safe bets, favoring formulaic hits over risks. Social media and streaming reward conformity—songs must grab instantly, not unfold like a movie. If “Stairway to Heaven” debuted today, would anybody hear it?
By comparison, the 1960s were an incredibly open-minded time. Labels were looking for something to take a chance on because the outliers were paying off. The Beatles, Bob Dylan, and Hendrix successfully took chances, which enabled others like Zep to push the envelope farther, paving the way for yet more experimental artists like Bowie and Van Halen. The last boundary stretcher was probably Nirvana. That was 34 years ago.
There’s tons of amazing music being made today. But there’s also a whole lot of trend following rather than trend setting. Now that AI is writing/producing/creating music, that’s not going to diversify the mainstream. Becoming Led Zeppelin reminds us that music thrives on urgency and daring. Take chances.
