
Slash grips one of the three highly mythologized Les Paul replicas that he has used over the years (right)—which may or may not have been the inspiration for his new signature Gibson Appetite Les Paul (left).
Will we ever know who built the Les Paul Slash played on “Sweet Child O’ Mine”?
Mythology is an essential part of human life. We may not spend much time discussing winged-footed Greek gods or tales of dragonslayers while we tune our guitars and haul amps into clubs. But myths and legends are still all around us. From the triumph of the Jedi in the Star Wars films to the latest heroic act on the sports field, myths inform our culture and sense of belonging. And even within a musical context, certain stories take root, grow, expand, mutate, and are shared for generations until they reach legendary proportions.
The story of Slash's instrument arsenal during the heady days of recording Guns N' Roses Appetite for Destruction is just such a tale, retold by our era's version of epic poets and debated as hotly as any controversial archaeological discovery.
In March 2010, Gibson Guitars released their Slash Appetite Les Paul model. The company's press materials proclaimed this was "the axe that launched a thousand riffs." In videos hosted on the Gibson website, Slash holds the new model next to his personal guitar and says, "This is the original right here," and "It's basically set up just like my original was." The camera slowly pans over the instrument and zooms in on some of the details.
"All things considered, with the original one, it just happened to have a certain sort of unique tone unto itself," Slash says in the video. "With the new one, we basically tried to capture that. The new Appetite for Destruction guitar is about as close as anybody could get to the original."
According to luthier Roman Rist, the middle Les Paul replica here is Slash's first from luthier
Kris Derrig—the one Rist says Slash used on the tail end of Appetite. The guitar on the right
was built by Peter "Max" Baranet. The instrument on the left is purportedly Slash's second
Derrig model.
Photo courtesy of Roman Rist
The guitar was hailed as an impressive instrument. When Premier Guitar reviewed it, we said, "It's a well-built, high-quality Les Paul with flawless playability and gorgeous looks." The review carried a 4.5 rating out of a possible 5.
That review also pointed out something that Slash fans and internet forum users had known all along: The Slash Appetite Les Paul is actually a replica of a replica— because the instrument Slash rocked on the iconic album wasn't actually a Gibson. The "original," as Slash calls it in the videos, was made by California luthier Kris Derrig.
Slash and Gibson did not respond to interview requests for this article. However, we should note that the general attitude among savvy guitarists is that Gibson's Appetite Les Paul isn't some attempt to hoodwink an unsuspecting public. Most observers feel that if a customer is a big enough fan to pay the list price of nearly five grand for the instrument, they'd also know the true story. And Gibson's new Appetite guitar does include some modern updates that theoretically improve its practicality for a mass audience. And in many ways the Gibson initiative to sell such an instrument addressed a burgeoning demand among consumers—and addressed it well.
"I don't fault them at all," says guitar builder Roman Rist, who figures into the earlier days of this tale. "Slash does have a relationship with Gibson. Slash is a bona fide rock star, and, for them, why not make a Slash model? I'm sure Slash had plenty of input in the design to be able to sign off and be happy with the guitar. I don't see anything wrong with it."
But while Gibson rehashed the iconic instrument for today's musician, the larger legend is much more complex. Indeed, there are many who allege Slash actually wielded three Les Pauls during the time in question. Those three guitars are shrouded in questions, contrasting memories, and conflicting reports. Examining the legend of these instruments is like trying to unravel the threads of an ancient Norse epic or documenting the numerous trysts and offspring of the Greek god, Zeus. Each answer opens a new question, each thread ends at the beginning of a new one.
The Epic of the Hunterburst
Mythologist, lecturer, and writer Joseph Campbell focused on the role mythology plays in the human experience, while examining myths and legends handed down through the centuries. There are certain constants that appear in myths, regardless of the culture that spawned them. There is a hero who must leave his comfort zone and embark on some sort of journey. Along the way, that hero encounters supernatural help in the form of "amulets," quoted in the Campbell passage above. The form of these implements changes throughout the myths. It could be King Arthur's Excalibur, or Perseus's gifts from the gods, or Luke Skywalker's lightsaber.
Or, in a musical context, the mythological structure could feature an impoverished, curly-haired hero encountering a transformative instrument.
In the early '80s, during Guns N' Roses' formative period, Slash was living hand-to-mouth. Struggling to eat and pay for a drug habit, he certainly lacked the wherewithal to accumulate fine vintage instruments.
"Those guys couldn't put two nickels together to buy a pack of Marlboros back then," says former Guns manager Vicky Hamilton. At the time, Hamilton even allowed the nascent rockers to move into her apartment— which surely diminished the likelihood of recovering her security deposit.
Due to such constricting finances, Slash played a variety of guitars during this period, as documented in Marc Canter's photography book Reckless Road: Guns N' Roses and the Making of Appetite for Destruction, and he was certainly not tied to any particular brand.
Throughout that text are photos of Slash with a red B.C. Rich Warlock, a B.C. Rich Mockingbird with visible wood grain, and—when he was very young—even a black Fender Stratocaster. In Slash's own best-selling memoir, Slash, written with co-author Anthony Bozza, the guitarist relates a story of asking Kiss' Paul Stanley for help procuring instruments from B.C. Rich.
It was in that wilderness of instrument experimentation that Slash came across the first amulet that would help him face the challenging climb up the ladder of rock 'n' roll stardom.
"I was playing a new guitar," Slash writes in his memoir. "It was a Les Paul that had belonged to '70s blues guitarist Steve Hunter. I'd traded my B.C. Rich for it at Howie Hubberman's place, Guitars R Us."
Obtaining this instrument was a major cause for celebration at the Guns base camp.
"I have one really good memory of Slash getting his first sunburst Gibson, and he brought it into our living room when we were all living together," says Hamilton. "He opened the case with pride and everyone gave him the 'ooh' and 'aah.'"
That guitar is frequently referred to as the "Hunterburst," after its former owner who was famous for performances with Alice Cooper, Peter Gabriel, Lou Reed, and even Aerosmith. Perhaps most notably, Hunter played on the Cooper tunes "Billion Dollar Babies" and "Welcome to My Nightmare," as well as Gabriel's "Solsbury Hill" single and Lou Reed's epic Rock n Roll Animal.
The problem is that Hunter doesn't know if his guitar ended up in Slash's hands. Though the influential guitarist politely declined to speak on the record for this interview, he did state he does not know what happened to his instrument after he sold it.
Guitar gurus Hubberman and Rist both handled Hunter's Les Paul and are certain the guitar went to Slash. The instrument came into the shop with original '50s parts, including PAF pickups that were ultimately removed to sell on the vintage market while the guitar was retrofitted with more modern, reasonably priced hardware.
"I put the Seymour Duncans in," Rist says. "I worked on setting it up and getting it to play good. It stayed there for maybe a couple of days. So maybe a couple of days later, Howie calls up Slash saying, 'I got the guitar for you.' Slash comes in and they work out some kind of deal."
Hubberman, who was also an early investor in the band, recalls that he sold the instrument to the young gunner for $2600, payable over time. "You know, they didn't have any money back then," Hubberman says. "I would just give things to them off the cuff and they'd catch up to me later down the line. Those guys always took care of me. Izzy [rhythm guitarist Izzy Stradlin] was probably the brokest of the bunch, but he would pay it off. Same thing with Slash. I mean, it took a couple of years for Slash to pay off that guitar, but he paid it off."
Humorously, Hubberman adds, "I think when he paid it off, he no longer owned it."
Legend and innuendo has it that Slash pawned the so-called Hunterburst to pay for his drug habit. While that can't be proven, it's certainly possible. In his memoir, the guitarist writes of times when "I sold my equipment for cash to score more smack."
Peter “Max" Baranet—the Man Behind the Hunterburst?
Rist argues that the Hunterburst, although not played on Appetite for Destruction, deserves a significant place in rock 'n' roll history.
"The Hunterburst carried a lot of weight because it was owned by a rock star who, in my opinion, had contributed greatly to the music scene," Rist says. "Steve Hunter is the real deal. So here's the guitar that went from the old guard to the new guard. That's the one that got him [Slash] hooked. The seed for his Les Paul addiction, becoming the Les Paul icon that he is, is the Hunterburst."
But, as was mentioned previously, the Hunterburst wasn't a Gibson. It was a replica. Steve Hunter says it was built by luthier Peter "Max" Baranet, who friends and clients typically refer to simply as Max. Howie Hubberman says the instrument was built by Baranet. So does Roman Rist.
Baranet himself? He's not so sure. In written statements and telephone interviews, Baranet won't confirm or deny that the Hunterburst is one of his instruments.
"Yeah, I don't remember it," he says. "There's people that remember it being in my shop and stuff. But there was a lot of stuff going on in those days, you know. A lot of guitar building and a lot of people running through."
The volume of Baranet's work was indeed staggering. "One year that I was at Image Guitars, I had assembled or custom made over 150 guitars," he recalls. "Singlehandedly. So, you know what I'm saying— [it's] one single guitar. I'm not going to remember everything."
This Les Paul replica commonly referred as "Hunterburst" (because it had been previously owned by Alice Cooper guitarist Steve Hunter) was reportedly Slash's first brush with a quality copy of Gibson's iconic guitar in and around the Appetite for Destruction period.
Photo by Mark Olson
Serial numbers and markings for replica instruments of the day were not standardized and provide little help in solving the mystery. Baranet says he sometimes used customers' birthdays, sometimes even Social Security numbers and other combinations of digits.
Despite Baranet's reluctance to claim the Hunterburst, his former colleague Rist is convinced Baranet built it.
"I worked with Max so long I know how he does things," Rist states. "There are certain little trademark things I can use to spot a Max from a mile away. There are other trademarks with the way he does his routing. If I open it up, I can go, 'Yep, this is a Max.'"
. . . Enter Kris Derrig Version
Whatever the lineage of the Hunterburst, at some point it passed out of Slash's hands. In general, the band had a quick excuse any time equipment went missing. "I think the story was that someone stole it," Hamilton laughs. "Which was a common story with those guys back in those days. Things just sort of disappeared and I didn't even know that they were up on my roof doing drugs and shit."
When Guns N' Roses entered the studio in late 1986 to record Appetite for Destruction, Slash was apparently playing an assortment of guitars that did not— according to some—include a Les Paul, whether replica or Gibson.
"Now, I was not there in the studio, but there are too many accounts from Slash and other people that a lot was recorded with a black Jackson and a red B.C. Rich," Rist says. He claims that most of the record was recorded with these instruments and that the second legendary Les Paul replica did not enter the picture "until Slash did all of the solo stuff."
Other sources claim a Les Paul replica was more prominent on the album. In Stephen Davis' 2008 book Watch You Bleed: The Saga of Guns N' Roses, he writes, "Slash cut most of the tracks with a Les Paul copy plugged into a Marshall amplifier."
But in a July 2010 interview with AOL's Noisecreep website, Slash himself seems to confirm, at least in part, the assertion that the LP didn't show up until late in the game, as well as rumors about the disposition of his earlier instruments.
"I was really broke and I hocked all my decent guitars before we went into the studio to make Appetite for Destruction," Slash tells the website staff. "All I had left were a B.C. Rich Warlock and two Jackson guitars, a Firebird, and a prototype archtop Strat-style guitar. I brought them all into the recording studio for the Appetite session and they all sounded horrible. I was like, 'F---, what do I do? I have to do the overdubs and I have no instrument.' So Guns N' Roses manager, Alan Niven, showed up the night before I went in to do the Appetite overdubs and brought me this Les Paul. I went in the next day and it was the most amazing sounding guitar."
That instrument, the second Les Paul replica in Slash's epic journey, is widely reported to be the work of the late Kris Derrig. Luthier Baranet references this guitar when he says, "And then the Derrig model came in, you know, at the last minute for the overdubs and solos."
At first glance, that seems to conflict with Slash's own statement in his book that, "It was made by the late Jim Foot[e], who owned MusicWorks in Redondo Beach."
However, guitar-building contemporaries explain that Derrig shared space with Foote (who is still alive), which probably accounts for Slash's statement in the book, especially since band manager Alan Niven brought the instrument to the guitarist. The rocker did not go to the shop himself.
"Kris had a workshop in the back of Jim Foote's store," Rist says. "Most guitar builders, they just want to be left alone and do their thing, and one thing you do not want to do a lot is deal with customers. So if you can have a buffer man out front, you can do your own thing a bit easier."
The Derrig model is presumed to be Slash's main guitar to this day. In the Gibson promotional materials, when Slash says, "the original," he's referencing the Derrig. Since that instrument went directly to the guitarist, the builders interviewed for this article don't have any firsthand knowledge of the guitar.
Of Holy Trinities and Eternal Myths
In this photo taken in 2001, Luthier Peter "Max" Baranet (left) stands with Slash and the Les Paul
replica he built for the gunslinger.
Photo courtesy of Peter Baranet
Allegedly, Slash obtained a third replica shortly after recording Appetite for Destruction. According to some, he obtained a second Derrig model. Others claim he got another Baranet instrument.
"Through Howie, Max was made aware that Slash needed a Les Paul and he needed one in a hurry," Rist says. "And it was mainly, from everything I know, for the purpose of another touring backup." Although it cannot be confirmed, Slash is presumed to still own that third replica.
Ultimately, some of the arguments surrounding these three replicas may never be solved. Short of getting Slash, the luthiers, and the guitars all in the same room and subjecting them to CSI-level scrutiny, some definitive answers simply cannot be had. In the absence of such hard data, the topic will continue to be passionately debated. One internet message board features an epic 531-post argument that spans three years— and people continue to post on the subject to this day!
While some observers may feel this level of fanatical discourse is a waste of time, it's what true believers do. They staunchly defend their interpretation of the myth or legend. At this very moment, some academic in a college classroom is surely arguing over the true historical figure that served as the inspiration for King Arthur. The Slash Les Paul replica debate simply features more volume.
Although Slash might see it differently, he undoubtedly fulfills Campbell's role of the hero who reinterprets a tradition and makes it valid for a current era.
During the early '80s, pointy guitars with whammy bars and slick paint jobs were required equipment for any aspiring rocker. Slash's bluesy, more straight-ahead rock 'n' roll riffs and leads on Appetite for Destruction swung the spotlight back on Les Pauls, which had been pushed to the side since the '70s heyday of Led Zeppelin and other LP-slinging bands.
"Back in the '80s, the Burst market was dead," says Baranet. "I used to go to the guitar shows in Texas every six months. I've got pictures from '88 of rows and rows of Bursts priced around seven to ten grand, and nobody was buying. When Guns N' Roses broke, Slash was playing a Les Paul in those three videos in constant rotation on MTV." That exposure attracted international collectors who scooped up Les Pauls, making them scarcer domestically. Accordingly, prices escalated.
"Slash playing Les Pauls was what kickstarted it," Baranet continues. "It's kind of funny, because he was playing replicas at the time, yet he kicked off the real Burst market, as well as the reissue and historic market that followed later."
While the truth of Slash's Les Paul arsenal may never be known, the fact is that guitarists and music lovers will always revere these iconic instruments. And they will always be fascinated by the fine details of the axes.
"To put it in an almost philosophical sense, it puts them closer to god," Rist says. "Especially if you take a look at Slash: He was a kid with an undying belief that he would make it, and now he's turned into a huge star. So you have all these people who wished they could get into that kind of position. They dream of it, but they'll never get there. Sometimes the closest people can get to that place is just talking about it."
Yes, Rist's assertion is a tough one to argue with. Talk of this hero who found iconic implements to complete a quest—and create a legend—truly is bound to continue from this generation and into subsequent generations as long as guitarists dream of ascending from musical mortality and entering the pantheon of guitar gods.
The Reality of Replicas
Undoubtedly, major guitar manufacturers like Gibson, Fender, and Ibanez view any instrument produced by an unofficial source to be counterfeit. And legally that's certainly true. But the handmade replica culture is not the same thing as some unsuspecting musician getting ripped off. Instead, all parties involved (except the major companies) agree that this can be an honorable transaction among consenting adults—one that involves high-quality instruments.
"Keep in mind that a guitar builder is very similar to an artist," says Roman Rist. "For an artist to pull off a convincing Picasso means he has arrived. It is not about passing off a fake. Rather, it's a way of saying 'Hey, this is my business card. If I can do this, I can do just about anything.'"
Some replica builders who did not want to be identified in this story even have relationships with the companies they're copying. They might do custom work for those manufacturers or help out in a pinch. Replicas are frequently of such stellar quality that they command high prices on the vintage market to this day.
"The last nice Max-made Les Paul that I know of changed hands for $45,000," says Howie Hubberman. Baranet himself won't confirm this, but when offered a range of $35,000 to $50,000, he says, "They've resold much higher than that."
Ironically, some replica builders are so respected that other people copy their work.
"There are more forgeries of my stuff than my replicas of the corporate stuff," Baranet laughs.
Other Legendary Guitars Shrouded in Mystery
Slash's Appetite for Destruction Les Pauls are not the only instruments open to speculation, conjecture, and controversy. The beat-to-hell, red-and-white-striped "Frankenstrat" that Eddie Van Halen made famous is a mutt of various components. Depending on who you believe, the body is a Warmoth, Fender, or Charvel. Kramer stepped in and made similar instruments for the guitar slinger in the early '80s, the most famous being the 5150 guitar with a hockey-stick-style headstock. Many fans confuse the Frankenstrat with the Kramer 5150. The high-end EVH-branded replicas of the Frankenstrat (right)—which are made by Fender and sold under the Frankenstein model name—further complicate the discussion.
George Lynch's skull-and-bones guitar is another oddity. Nicknamed "Mom," the highly carved instrument played by the shredder in such Dokken videos as "Dream Warriors" carried a misleading nameplate. The guitar was actually built by J. Frog. However, when he got the instrument Lynch had recently started a relationship with ESP Guitars, so he slapped an ESP sticker on the headstock before using it in the band's videos.
[Updated 11/10/21]
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Reader: T. Moody
Hometown: Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
Guitar: The Green Snake
Reader T. Moody turned this Yamaha Pacifica body into a reptilian rocker.
With a few clicks on Reverb, a reptile-inspired shred machine was born.
With this guitar, I wanted to create a shadowbox-type vibe by adding something you could see inside. I have always loved the Yamaha Pacifica guitars because of the open pickup cavity and the light weight, so I purchased this body off Reverb (I think I am addicted to that website). I also wanted a color that was vivid and bold. The seller had already painted it neon yellow, so when I read in the description, “You can see this body from space,” I immediately clicked the Buy It Now button. I also purchased the neck and pickups off of Reverb.
I have always loved the reverse headstock, simply because nothing says 1987 (the best year in the history of the world) like a reverse headstock. The pickups are both Seymour Duncan—an SH-1N in the neck position and TB-4 in the bridge, both in a very cool lime green color. Right when these pickups got listed, the Buy It Now button once again lit up like the Fourth of July. I am a loyal disciple of Sperzel locking tuners and think Bob Sperzel was a pure genius, so I knew those were going on this project even before I started on it. I also knew that I wanted a Vega-Trem; those units are absolutely amazing.
When the body arrived, I thought it would be cool to do some kind of burst around the yellow so I went with a neon green. It turned out better than I imagined. Next up was the shaping and cutting of the pickguard. I had this crocodile-type, faux-leather material that I glued on the pickguard and then shaped to my liking. I wanted just a single volume control and no tone knob, because, like King Edward (Van Halen) once said, “Your volume is your tone.”
T. Moody
I then shaped and glued the faux-leather material in the cavity. The tuning knobs, volume knob, pickguard, screws, and selector switch were also painted in the lemon-lime paint scheme. I put everything together, installed the pickups, strung it up, set it up, plugged it in, and I was blown away. I think this is the best-playing and -sounding guitar I have ever tried.
The only thing missing was the center piece and strap. The latter was easy because DiMarzio makes their ClipLock in neon green. The center piece was more difficult because originally, I was thinking that some kind of gator-style decoration would be cool. In the end, I went with a green snake, because crocodiles ain’t too flexible—and they’re way too big to fit in a pickup cavity!
The Green Snake’s back is just as striking as the front.
Our columnist’s Greco 912, now out of his hands, but fondly remembered.
A flea-market find gave our Wizard of Odd years of squealing, garage-rock bliss in his university days.
Recently, I was touring college campuses with my daughter because she’s about to take the next step in her journey. Looking back, I’ve been writing this column for close to 10 years! When I started, my kids were both small, and now they’re all in high school, with my oldest about to move out. I’m pretty sure she’s going to choose the same university that I attended, which is really funny because she’s so much like me that the decision would be totally on point.
The campus looks way nicer than it did back in the ’90s, but there are similarities, like bars, shops, and record stores. Man, our visit took me back to when I was there, which was the last time I was active in bands. Many crash-and-burn groups came and went, and it was then that I started to collect cheap guitars, mainly because it was all I could afford at the time, and there were a lot of guitars to find.
In that era, I was using an old Harmony H420 amp (made by Valco), a Univox Super Fuzz, and whatever guitar I was digging at the time. I was so proud to pull out oddball guitars during shows and just have this totally trashy sound. Squealing and squeaking and noisy as heck, my style was reminiscent of Davie Allan, Ron Asheton, and Chuck Berry. Of course, I was way worse than all of them, but I did have a frenetic energy and I covered up my lack of skill with feedback. During the ’90s, there was a great punk revival, and I loved bands like the Mummies, Teengenerate, the Makers, the New Bomb Turks, and a bunch of others. Bands were embracing lo-fi, and I was planted firmly in that vein. Plus, the guitars I liked to use already sounded lo-fi.
“This was about the trashiest-sounding guitar, but in a good way!”
For a short spell I was using this Greco guitar and, man, this was about the trashiest-sounding guitar, but in a good way! See, Fujigen pickups (like the ones here) have this echoey voice that I describe as an “empty beer can” sound. My Super Fuzz would just destroy these pickups, and I wish I had some recordings from that era, because it was a real scene! I believe this Greco was a flea-market find but it was much later that I found out it was called a Greco Model 912. This was actually a copy of a German-made Framus guitar, but with a lot more glitz and a crazier headstock. Four pickup selector switches, volume/tone knobs, and a rhythm/lead switch rounded out the electronics. Again, these pickups are instant spaghetti-Western movie tone. Airy and bright, the bridge area is like instant, gnarly surf music. Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine has a similar guitar and John Barrett of Bass Drum of Death was also fond of these pickups. Interestingly enough, these particular Grecos were made in small numbers, ranging between 500 to 600 in total (including all pickup combinations).
The Greco brand was initially owned by the U.S.-based Goya Corporation, but in the late 1960s, Fujigen bought the brand name (for $1,000) and produced a few truly gonzo guitars, including this Model 912. Originally called the GE-4, the four-pickup version sold for $99.50 in 1967. My particular 912 was sold at Sid Kleiner Guitar Studios in Califon, New Jersey (which I learned thanks to the attached store sticker on the headstock).
Aside from the chrome coolness and the four pickups, this model featured a cute little flip-up bridge mute that was all the rage at the time. The body also had some tasteful German carvings around the edges, and as I write this, I am missing this guitar tremendously! But not even close to the way I’m going to miss my girl in a few months. At least I know that she can shop at the same record stores!
Kevin Gordon and his beloved ES-125, in earlier days.
Looking for new fuel for your sound and songs? Nashville’s Kevin Gordon found both in exploring traditional blues tunings and their variations.
I first heard open guitar tunings while in college, from older players who’d become friends or mentors, and from various artists playing at the Delta Blues Festival in the early mid-’80s, which was held in a fallow field in Freedom Village, Mississippi—whose topographical limits likely did not extend beyond said field.
I remember Jessie Mae Hemphill wearing a full-length leopard-print coat and black cowboy hat in the September heat, walking through the crowd selling 45s, and James “Son” Thomas singing his bawdy version of “Catfish Blues.” Also, an assembly of older gentlemen passing a pint bottle, all wearing vests with the name of their fraternal society sewn on the back: Dead Peckers Club.
I played in master minimalist Bo Ramsey’s band from 1988 to ’90. Living in Iowa City, attending grad school for poetry, weekend gigs with Bo were another equally important kind of education. He was the first guy I played in a band with who used open tunings. Nothing exotic: open G or open E, early Muddy Waters and Elmore James. Music I had loved since growing up in Louisiana. This was our bond, the music we both considered bedrock. Some of my first songs, written for that band, featured Bo on slide guitar.
I moved to Nashville in 1992, a city already populated with a few friends—some from Iowa, some from Louisiana. Buddy Flett was from Shreveport; I’d loved his playing since seeing him in the band A-Train in the early ’80s. We’d go eat catfish at Wendell Smith’s, and inevitably talk about songs. He’d achieved some success as a writer, working with fellow north Louisianan David Egan, employing his own kind of sleight-of-hand mystery in both G and D tunings.
In 1993, I found a guitar that would change my life and my songwriting: a scrappy Gibson ES-125 from 1956, standing in a corner of a friend’s apartment in Nashville, covered in dust. I asked if I could borrow it, for no particular reason other than to get it out of there so that it would be played. I wrote a song on it, in double drop-D tuning [D–A–D–G–B–D]. Not a great song, but it got me thinking about open strings and tunings again. I was looking for a way to play solo shows that reflected where I came from, and where the songs came from that I was writing.“The droning aspect of open tunings always appealed to me, and in the context of solo gigs, the big sound of octaves ringing out helped this insecure guitar player sound a little taller, wider . . . something.”
So, I put the guitar in open D [D–A–D–F#–A–D], put flatwounds on it, and started figuring out chord shapes (other than barring flat across) that I could use to play my songs, all of which at that point had been written and performed in standard tuning. I’d bought a ’64 Fender Princeton amp years before, when I was 19, but had never found a use for it until now: The 125 through the Princeton on about four was the sound. The droning aspect of open tunings always appealed to me, and in the context of solo gigs, the big sound of octaves ringing out helped this insecure guitar player sound a little taller, wider . . . something. The fingerings I came up with all seemed to mask the third of the scale—so you’d have a big sound which was neither major nor minor. And for my songs, it just felt right. By the time I recorded my second album for Shanachie, Down to the Well, in 1999, I was writing songs in open D (“Pueblo Dog”). For the next two albums, released in 2005 and 2012, the majority of the songs were written and performed live in open D, employing a capo when necessary.
As usual, the methods and habits developed while touring fed back into the writing and recording processes. For my latest release, The In Between, though, most of the songs were written and recorded in standard—“Simple Things,” “Tammy Cecile,” “Coming Up”—with some exceptions, including “Keeping My Brother Down,” “You Can’t Hurt Me No More,” and the title track, on which I play a ’50s Gibson electric tenor archtop in a peculiar tuning: C–G–C–G. Though I can’t say that open tunings make for better songs, they do help me hear chords differently, at times suggesting progressions that I wouldn’t normally think of. One song currently in-progress has these verse changes: VIm / I / VIm / I / VIm / I / II / II. In standard tuning, that VI would sound (to my ear) too bright. But because I’m writing it in open D, how I fret the VI sounds low and dark, appropriate for the lyric and melody, creating the right setting for the lines and story to unfold.
Ethnomusicologist Frances Densmore records the song of Mountain Chief, head of the Blackfeet Tribe, on a phonograph for the Bureau of American Ethnology in 1916.
Once used as a way to preserve American indigenous culture, field recording isn’t just for seasoned pros. Here, our columnist breaks down a few methods for you to try it yourself.
The picture associated with this month’s Dojo is one of my all-time favorites. Taken in 1916, it marks the collision of two diverging cultural epochs. Mountain Chief, the head of the Piegan Blackfeet Tribe, sings into a phonograph powered solely by spring-loaded tension outside the Smithsonian. Across from him sits whom I consider the patron saint of American ethnomusicologists—the great Frances Densmore.
You can feel the scope and weight of theancient culture of the indigenous American West, and the presence of the then-ongoing women’s suffrage movement, which was three years from succeeding at getting the 19th Amendment passed by Congress. That would later happen on June 4, 1919—the initiative towards granting all women of this country the right to vote. (All American citizens, including Black women, were not granted suffrage until 1965.)
Densmore traversed the entire breadth of the country, hauling her gramophone wax cylinder recorders into remote tribal lands, capturing songs by the Seminole in southern Florida, the Yuma in California, the Chippewa in Wisconsin, Quinailet songs in Northern Washington, and, of course, Mountain Chief outside the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C. Author of more than 20 books and 200 articles, she carefully preserved the rich cultural diversity of Native Americans with over 2,500 field recordings.
Why am I writing about this? Firstly, to pay homage! Secondly, because it serves as a great reminder to seek and cultivate sound outside the studio as well. We live in a time of great technological power and convenience. Every week a new sample pack, plugin, pedal, or software instrument hits the market. For all the joy that these offerings bring, they deprive us of the joy of creating our own instruments from scratch.
This month, I’m advocating for you to make some field recordings of your own—nature, urban, indoor, outdoor, specific locations, animals, or anything that piques your interest! Bring the material back to the studio and make music with it! I’ll show you how to make your own sample libraries to use in your music. Tighten up your belts, a multipart Dojo is now open.
What do you need to get started? Quite simply, you just need any device that is capable of recording. This can range from your cell phone to a dedicated field recorder. The real question is: Do you want to use mics housed in handheld units or have more robust mic pres with the ability to power larger live/studio microphones using XLR connectors found with the larger units? Let’s look at three scenarios.
The Cellular Approach
The absolute easiest way to get started is with your cell phone. Take advantage of a voice-memo recording app, or use an app that records multitrack audio like GarageBand on iOS. Phone recordings tend to sound very compressed and slightly lo-fi—which might be exactly what you want. However, the method can also introduce unwanted noise artifacts like low-end rumble (from handling the phone) and phasing (moving the mic while recording). I recommend using a tripod to hold your phone still while recording. You might also want to consider using an external mic and some software to edit your sample recordings on the phone. I like using a Koala Sampler ($4.99) on iOS devices.
Upgrade Me
The next step up is to use a portable recorder. These have much better mic pres, and offer true stereo recording with pivoting mic heads. This can give you the added benefit of controlling the width of your stereo image when recording or helping isolate two sound sources that are apart from each other. You sacrifice the ability to easily edit your recordings. You simply import them into your computer and edit the recording(s) from there.
Pro-Level Quality
I would recommend this scenario if you want to record multiple sources at once. These devices also have SMPTE time code, 60+ dB of gain, phantom power (+48 volts), advanced routing, and a 32-bit/192 kHz sampling rate, so you’ll never have a distorted recording even when the meter gets unexpectedly pegged into the red from a loud sound source. I recommend the Zoom F8n Pro ($1099). Now you can use your microphones!
Best Practices
Try to safely record as close to the sound source as you can to minimize ambient noise and really scrub through your recordings to find little snippets and sound “nuggets” that can make great material for creating your own instrument and sample library—which we’ll explore next month! Namaste.