For a guy who’s allegedly been referred to as the “world’s greatest guitar player” by Eddie Van Halen, who’s played the immortal intro to Michael Jackson’s timeless hit “Beat
For a guy who’s allegedly been referred to as the “world’s greatest guitar player” by Eddie Van Halen, who’s played the immortal intro to Michael Jackson’s timeless hit “Beat It,” as well as having played guitar on virtually every major label pop hit out there, you would think that five-time Grammy winner Steve Lukather, aka Luke, would have an impenetrable ego of steel. Fact is, even Luke hurts. The guitar legend unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve and his new solo album, Transition, is a catharsis of sorts on many levels.
“The internet can be pretty cruel, man. People will try to point out your weakest flaws physically, or about your playing. They catch you at your weakest moment and you’re like a piñata with a baseball bat,” says Luke. “I’ve taken 36 years of criticism. Things like, ‘Our parents should have been sterilized so we can never play the shit music that we make.’ I’ve heard them all.” To respond, Luke (along with co-producer CJ Vanston and Fee Waybill) penned “Creep Motel” and “Judgement Day,” which feature lyrics like “It finally hits, you're full of shit, your tiny fingers dancing on your keys of hate.”
Transition also addresses several major turning points in Luke’s personal life. Songs like “Once Again” see him offering an honest and heartfelt reflection on his recent divorce and, the closer, a first-take instrumental rendition of Charlie Chaplin’s “Smile,” pays tribute to his mother, who recently passed away (“Smile” was her favorite song). The album features an all-star cast of A-list musicians including Tal Wilkenfeld, Chad Smith (Red Hot Chili Peppers), and Phil Collen (Def Leppard), among others, and was written and recorded during an impossibly hectic 10-month period that saw Luke go on five, yes five, major tours. Luke breaks it down, “On January 1, I went to Germany to do this Rock Meets Classic tour with Ian Gillan from Deep Purple and some other people, including an 80-piece orchestra. Then I went out and did G3 with Joe Satriani and Steve Vai, which I was very honored to be asked to do. Then I went out with Ringo Starr all summer, and then I went out with Toto. I then went back out with G3 but with John Petrucci instead of Steve Vai. The whole time I was writing and mixing. That’s the short version. I wasn’t sittin’ around doin’ nothin’ for the year, I can tell you that.”
Luke takes us inside the making of Transition, explains his pared-down setup, gives the scoop on his new signature Ernie Ball/Music Man Luke III model —which features his new DiMarzio Transition pickups—and shares his take on the new face of the music industry.
I understand that you took a different approach to writing Transition.
I did it in a weird sort of way. I usually write songs and go in to cut basic tracks. On this one, I thought I was going to make little demos but the demos turned out to be really good. I realized that we didn't need to do it again. I said, “Let’s keep all this and just add people to it,” so we started adding real musicians to it as the songs were finished. I’d never done it that way before but it allowed me to cast the record like a director would cast a film. I could get what I thought were the right players for the songs and they really knew what they were playing to. Oddly enough, the way the album is sequenced is the order in which the songs were written.
”Transition,” the title track, has so many different sections that it’s almost like a prog-fusion odyssey. How was that one put together?
That was written with Steve Weingart as well as CJ [Vanston]. We had no rules. I originally intended to write an instrumental piece, which it ended up not being. I added some vocals. But I have a great love for ’70s prog rock like Yes or Genesis. I’m not trying to write hit songs, I’m trying to make an artistic statement. I just want to make a record that I enjoy listening to and so far the reaction has been pretty good. Having a record label give me that freedom—they didn’t hear anything until I turned in the mastered record. They trusted me and I try to deliver stuff that’s accessible yet still a little harmonically challenging. I’m not trying to write full-on fusion, freak-out music. Math music [Laughs], for lack of a better term.
But “Transition” goes beyond the confines of 4/4.
Yeah, it was in 7 I think. It’s not that whacked-out by today’s standards. I still don’t want to just write clichéd power-chord music. There are some guys that write music that’s so crazy that it makes me laugh out loud. It’s so cool but it’s like, “Wow, what is that.” I like to think that I’m fairly well versed but there are some young cats out there that are just blowing the roof off. I love it, man.
Tell me about “Creep Motel” and “Judgement Day.”
Those two songs are like bookends. They’re about internet haters—people sitting in their little rooms hating everybody. Hate breeds hate. I’m a really sensitive person and it really [expletive] with my head. I’m of clear mind, body, and soul, and have been for years, but there was a time in the mid-2000s where as a player, I lost my way, and I’m rather ashamed that some of these performances have found their way to the internet. And the worse they are, the more people see them, and the more they want to [harass] me about things that happened years ago. It’s really insidious. What’s next, you walk into a room and there’s a hologram of a “Like” and “Dislike” next to you, and if too many people point to the “Dislike,” you’re thrown out of the room? It’s like this Orwellian bullsh*t, hyper-critical society now. People won't even get up and jam anymore. They’re afraid everybody’s camera is out. You get this feeling of unrealistic perfection that you’re supposed to attain every time you play, sing, or do anything. It’s really screwed up. And these are the same people that come up to you and tell you, “Hey man, really nice to meet you.” They’re the same people with a fake name.
Well, haters are gonna hate, but why do you care? You’ve enjoyed an illustrious career that the majority of guitarists out there could never imagine having.
Wait a second, I’m not saying that I sit around worrying about this. But it does hurt if somebody comes up and is really mean to you. I’m a sensitive person. “I hate you. You suck. You’re ugly. You sloppy piece of [expletive]. Overrated [expletive] hack,” whatever they want to write about me. It’s still like, “Wow, man. I don’t even know you. Why would you say that to me? That hurt my feelings.” It’s not a matter of whether it’s true or not. When you’re in the public eye, that’s part of the beating. Look at the society we live in now. People think that entertainment is tuning in and watching people emotionally die on television, while they eat popcorn. Reality TV. I don’t find it entertaining. I don’t find it a positive thing. I’m an old-school guy. Peace and love. I go out with Ringo and it’s all about keeping that vibe alive. Maybe I’m a corny old guy.
Do you go on the forums yourself to see what people are saying?
l try to avoid them but sometimes people feel this need to show me things. I don't go looking for these things but sometimes people put them on my Facebook page. “Look what so and so said,” and just like anything else, curiosity killed the cat, and you press the button and you read and you go, “What was that?”
I went through a really dark period of time where I kind of lost my way as a musician and a human being. You know, 36 years on the road makes a man crazy. And there are some less than flattering performances out there because I was drunk or pissed off, and I was playing too much because I was angry that my personal life had fallen apart. You have a tendency to play how you feel.
What guitars are you using on Transition?
It’s the same guitar on the whole record: The new LIII Music Man guitar with DiMarzio signature Transition passive pickups made especially for me.
As opposed to your previous Luke signature model’s active HSS configuration, the LIII is a passive dual-humbucker model. How do you get some of those Jimi-like Strat sounds on the record?
You can split them out, there’s a 5-position switch on it. That’s one of the cool things about the guitar, it’s got all these different tones. I still have that guitar [the Luke] but I just didn’t use it on this record. They also made me one with two single-coils and a humbucker, and I used those two guitars on the record. I just wanted to be a little bit more fat and organic. A lot of people dug my guitars but they didn’t dig the EMG pickups—EMG makes great stuff, I’m not putting them down. I used them for years; I was one of the first guys in the ’70s to use them. The good thing about the internet is that I listen to constructive criticism. People would say things like, “I like your guitar but the body’s too small,” or “I don’t like EMG pickups,” or “I like passive pickups.” As I became more organic as a person I wanted to become more organic with my sound. I don’t use any digital gear or MIDI crap. I plugged into a Bogner Ecstasy and a volume pedal, and any and all effects were done with plug-ins after the fact. I wanted to keep as clean a signal path as possible.
That’s a big contrast from the processed L.A. sound, which you pioneered and that was so in vogue that the A-listers employed carting companies to lug their racks of gear into the studio for sessions.
What was that, 1984? 1985? I’m still getting punished for sh*t that I did 30 years ago. That was the sound of the ’80s. The ’80s was the decade of excess. You get all this new stuff, you play on a hit record, and everybody copies it. All of a sudden they want you to play this sound when they hire you and that becomes your sound. People would go, “That’s Lukather’s sound.” I’d go to a NAMM show and there’d be a processor and I’d press it and it would say, “Luke,” and it sounded like flanger and echo returns, and I’d go, “Dude, what the … ?” That’s not what I sound like.
I was a little bit resentful of that carrying me 25 years later when I really don’t sound like that anymore. I mean, come on, are you going to make fun of my mullet, my drug habit, and the rest of the stuff that went down? I was just doing what everybody else was doing and that was probably the problem.
Although you’ve kept it fairly straightforward, you also used a little bit of the Kemper Profiling Amp on this album.
I did. I got it as a gift. This cat Brian Moritz sent it to me. I used it on a couple of clean sounds. On the song, “Right the Wrong,” for the dreamy clean sound, I plugged right into the thing. That was the first sound that came out of it and that kind of inspired the song. As far as profiling amps, I think the Kemper is one of the best ones I ever heard. But in general, I still like the reality of tubes.
Have you compared it to the Fractal Audio Axe-Fx?
Not yet, no. I’d love to tell you I’m this big gearhead but I’m really not. Things come to me and I go, “That’s really cool,” or, “I don’t like that.” I have people sending me all these cool little pedals and I’ll put them on my pedalboard now but the board consists of nothing but stompboxes. It’s really old school.
What do you have on the board?
Just different little things. I have a HardWire delay, I got the T-Rex stuff, I got some Strymon pedals. They make some really great stuff like that little blue reverb unit [blueSky Reverberator], and the Lex Leslie simulator is really great. I use that on the Ringo stuff like “It Don’t Come Easy.” Bonamassa gave me a wah-wah pedal. I’m working on a wah-wah pedal and a delay with T-Rex right now.
In the past, the recipe for success as a session player might have been to get your rhythm playing and reading together, and network like crazy. However, the industry has changed considerably. What would you be doing in terms of forging a career if you were just starting out now?
Aw man, it’s scary. It’s a brutal business, man, from a financial aspect. How do you monetize this and what people want in return for what you give them. There’s no session thing anymore. There’s no young session guy that I know of. There’s nobody coming up because there’s no work for them. I mean there’s people that play on records but most people’s budgets are cut to like 1/100th of what they used to be. People figure, “I can do this good enough myself and put it on the grid and tune it up.” They have technology now where they can take a Rolling Stones track and Melodyne everything into a Steely Dan album. I was at a party with Lee Ritenour, Ray Parker, Jay Graydon, and all the old ’70s and ’80s session guys, and Clarence McDonald, one of the old keyboard players said, “Now they have ProTools. It used to be just pros.”
Do you feel that there is something lacking with the over-reliance on technology?
The thing that’s missing is the interplay that would accidentally happen on sessions when you get great musicians in the room listening and playing off each other. Things would happen that you can’t program. But I don’t know if anybody cares anymore, that’s the really sad part. I make records as if they do. If you put the headphones on, you’ll hear a bunch of shit that you normally wouldn’t hear. A lot of people think of music as just background music to multitask to. They’re not really paying attention to it because they’re doing 10 different things at once.
Steve Lukather’s Gear
Guitars
Ernie Ball/Music Man LIII with DiMarzio Transition signature pickups, Ernie Ball/Music Man Luke
Amps
Bogner Ecstasy, Kemper Profiling Amplifier
Effects
Dave Friedman pedalboard, Strymon blueSky Reverberator, Strymon Lex Rotary, HardWire DL-8 Delay/Looper, HardWire tuner, Dunlop Joe Bonamassa Cry Baby wah
Strings, Picks, and Accessories
Ernie Ball Cobalt .009s and .010s, Dunlop Jazz heavy picks, Mogami and Monster cables
Your son Trevor plays on “Right the Wrong.” He can’t really follow in your footsteps because the industry has changed so much. What advice do you give him?
It’s not the same business. Now he’s doing sessions for people that I used to work for but they don’t pay as much anymore. He’ll write songs for people and get burned by them. The record companies burn him, there’s just more thievery now than there ever was. He’s been offered these deals to go on these corny, karaoke television shows. But you go on these shows and if you don’t do well for whatever reason, your career is over, man. And you sign your life away for five years and they own you, so even if you win, you lose. I told him, “If you sign that deal, I will disown you. You have to look at the long haul. You want to be the tortoise or the hare? You want to be the tortoise. You want to be the guy that wins the race but just takes his time getting there.” That’s the way I’ve led my life and my career. I always said to myself, “They can make rock stars—just add water or add booze.” But a long career as a musician is all I ever wanted in life and I got 36 years in now and I’m busier than I’ve ever been. I couldn't be happier.
YouTube It
To see and hear a sampling of Steve Lukather’s guitar mastery, check out the following clips.
Full-length concert of Toto live in Amsterdam. Luke gets a nice solo feature from 35:59–37:55.
Sharing the stage with guitar gods Steve Vai and Joe Satriani on the G3 tour, Luke belts out a soulful rendition of Hendrix’s “Little Wing,” and takes a rippin’ solo starting at 1:53.
Playing with fellow studio legend Larry Carlton, Luke tears it up on Jeff Beck’s legendary ballad “Cause We've Ended as Lovers.”
Throughout his over-30-year career, Keith Urban has been known more as a songwriter than a guitarist. Here, he shares about his new release, High, and sheds light on all that went into the path that led him to becoming one of today’s most celebrated country artists.
There are superstars of country and rock, chart-toppers, and guitar heroes. Then there’s Keith Urban. His two dozen No. 1 singles and boatloads of awards may not eclipse George Strait or Garth Brooks, but he’s steadily transcending the notion of what it means to be a country star.
He’s in the Songwriters Hall of Fame. He’s won 13 Country Music Association Awards, nine CMT video awards, eight ARIA (Australian Recording Industry Association) Awards, four American Music Awards, and racked up BMI Country Awards for 25 different singles.
He’s been a judge on American Idol and The Voice. In conjunction with Yamaha, he has his own brand of affordably priced Urban guitars and amps, and he has posted beginner guitar lessons on YouTube. His 2014 Academy of Country Music Award-winning video for “Highways Don’t Care” featured Tim McGraw and Keith’s former opening act, Taylor Swift. Add his marriage to fellow Aussie, the actress Nicole Kidman, and he’s seen enough red carpet to cover a football field.
Significantly, his four Grammys were all for Country Male Vocal Performance. A constant refrain among newcomers is, “and he’s a really good guitar player,” as if by surprise or an afterthought. Especially onstage, his chops are in full force. There are country elements, to be sure, but rock, blues, and pop influences like Mark Knopfler are front and center.
Unafraid to push the envelope, 2020’s The Speed of Now Part 1 mixed drum machines, processed vocals, and a duet with Pink with his “ganjo”—an instrument constructed of a 6-string guitar neck on a banjo body—and even a didgeridoo. It, too, shot to No. 1 on the Billboard Country chart and climbed to No. 7 on the pop chart.
His new release, High, is more down-to-earth, but is not without a few wrinkles. He employs an EBow on “Messed Up As Me” and, on “Wildfire,” makes use of a sequencerreminiscent of ZZ Top’s “Legs.” Background vocals in “Straight Lines” imitate a horn section, and this time out he duets on “Go Home W U” with rising country star Lainey Wilson. The video for “Heart Like a Hometown” is full of home movies and family photos of a young Urban dwarfed by even a 3/4-size Suzuki nylon-string.
Born Keith Urbahn (his surname’s original spelling) in New Zealand, his family moved to Queensland, Australia, when he was 2. He took up guitar at 6, two years after receiving his beloved ukulele. He released his self-titled debut album in 1991 for the Australian-only market, and moved to Nashville two years later. It wasn’t until ’97 that he put out a group effort, fronting the Ranch, and another self-titled album marked his American debut as a leader, in ’99. It eventually went platinum—a pattern that’s become almost routine.
The 57-year-old’s celebrity and wealth were hard-earned and certainly a far cry from his humble beginnings. “Australia is a very working-class country, certainly when I was growing up, and I definitely come from working-class parents,” he details. “My dad loved all the American country artists, like Johnny Cash, Haggard, Waylon. He didn’t play professionally, but before he got married he played drums in a band, and my grandfather and uncles all played instruments.
One of Urban’s biggest influences as a young guitar player was Mark Knopfler, but he was also mesmerized by lesser-known session musicians such as Albert Lee, Ian Bairnson, Reggie Young, and Ray Flacke. Here, he’s playing a 1950 Broadcaster once owned by Waylon Jennings that was a gift from Nicole Kidman, his wife.
“For me, it was a mix of that and Top 40 radio, which at the time was much more diverse than it is now. You would just hear way more genres, and Australia itself had its own, what they call Aussie pub rock—very blue-collar, hard-driving music for the testosterone-fueled teenager. Grimy, sweaty, kind of raw themes.”
A memorable event happened when he was 7. “My dad got tickets for the whole family to see Johnny Cash. He even bought us little Western shirts and bolo ties. It was amazing.”
But the ukulele he was gifted a few years earlier, at the age of 4, became a constant companion. “I think to some degree it was my version of the stuffed animal, something that was mine, and I felt safe with it. My dad said I would strum it in time to all the songs on the radio, and he told my mom, ‘He’s got rhythm. I wonder what a good age is for him to learn chords.’ My mom and dad ran a little corner store, and a lady named Sue McCarthy asked if she could put an ad in the window offering guitar lessons. They said, ‘If you teach our kid for free, we’ll put your ad in the window.’”
Yet, guitar didn’t come without problems. “With the guitar, my fingers hurt like hell,” he laughs, “and I started conveniently leaving the house whenever the guitar teacher would show up. Typical kid. I don’t wanna learn, I just wanna be able to do it. It didn’t feel like any fun. My dad called me in and went, ‘What the hell? The teacher comes here for lessons. What’s the problem?’ I said I didn’t want to do it anymore. He just said, ‘Okay, then don’t do it.’ Kind of reverse psychology, right? So I just stayed with it and persevered. Once I learned a few chords, it was the same feeling when any of us learn how to be moving on a bike with two wheels and nobody holding us up. That’s what those first chords felt like in my hands.”
Keith Urban's Gear
Urban has 13 Country Music Association Awards, nine CMT video awards, eight ARIA Awards, and four Grammys to his name—the last of which are all for Best Country Male Vocal Performance.
Guitars
For touring:
- Maton Diesel Special
- Maton EBG808TE Tommy Emmanuel Signature
- 1957 Gibson Les Paul Junior, TV yellow
- 1959 Gibson ES-345 (with Varitone turned into a master volume)
- Fender 40th Anniversary Tele, “Clarence”
- Two first-generation Fender Eric Clapton Stratocasters (One is black with DiMarzio Area ’67 pickups, standard tuning. The other is pewter gray, loaded with Fralin “real ’54” pickups, tuned down a half-step.)
- John Bolin Telecaster (has a Babicz bridge with a single humbucker and a single volume control. Standard tuning.)
- PRS Paul’s Guitar (with two of their narrowfield humbuckers. Standard tuning.)
- Yamaha Keith Urban Acoustic Guitar (with EMG ACS soundhole pickups)
- Deering “ganjo”
Amps
- Mid-’60s black-panel Fender Showman (modified by Chris Miller, with oversized transformers to power 6550 tubes; 130 watts)
- 100-watt Dumble Overdrive Special (built with reverb included)
- Two Pacific Woodworks 1x12 ported cabinets (Both are loaded with EV BlackLabel Zakk Wylde signature speakers and can handle 300 watts each.)
Effects
- Two Boss SD-1W Waza Craft Super Overdrives with different settings
- Mr. Black SuperMoon Chrome
- FXengineering RAF Mirage Compressor
- Ibanez TS9 with Tamura Mod
- Boss BD-2 Blues Driver
- J. Rockett Audio .45 Caliber Overdrive
- Pro Co RAT 2
- Radial Engineering JX44 (for guitar distribution)
- Fractal Audio Axe-Fx XL+ (for acoustic guitars)
- Two Fractal Audio Axe-Fx III (one for electric guitar, one for bass)
- Bricasti Design Model 7 Stereo Reverb Processor
- RJM Effect Gizmo (for pedal loops)
(Note: All delays, reverb, chorus, etc. is done post amp. The signal is captured with microphones first then processed by Axe-Fx and other gear.)
- Shure Axient Digital Wireless Microphone System
Strings & Picks
- D’Addario NYXL (.011–.049; electric)
- D’Addario EJ16 (.012–.053; acoustics)
- D’Addario EJ16, for ganjo (.012–.053; much thicker than a typical banjo strings)
- D’Addario 1.0 mm signature picks
He vividly remembers the first song he was able to play after “corny songs like ‘Mama’s little baby loves shortnin’ bread.’” He recalls, “There was a song I loved by the Stylistics, ‘You Make Me Feel Brand New.’ My guitar teacher brought in the sheet music, so not only did I have the words, but above them were the chords. I strummed the first chord, and went, [sings E to Am] ‘My love,’ and then minor, ‘I'll never find the words, my,’ back to the original chord, ‘love.’ Even now, I get covered in chills thinking what it felt like to sing and put that chord sequence together.”
After the nylon-string Suzuki, he got his first electric at 9. “It was an Ibanez copy of a Telecaster Custom—the classic dark walnut with the mother-of-pearl pickguard. My first Fender was a Stratocaster. I wanted one so badly. I’d just discovered Mark Knopfler, and I only wanted a red Strat, because that’s what Knopfler had. And he had a red Strat because of Hank Marvin. All roads lead to Hank!”
He clarifies, “Remember a short-lived run of guitar that Fender did around 1980–’81, simply called ‘the Strat’? I got talked into buying one of those, and the thing weighed a ton. Ridiculously heavy. But I was just smitten when it arrived. ‘Sultans of Swing’ was the first thing I played on it. ‘Oh my god! I sound a bit like Mark.’”
“Messed Up As Me” has some licks reminiscent of Knopfler. “I think he influenced a huge amount of my fingerpicking and melodic choices. I devoured those records more than any other guitar player. ‘Tunnel of Love,’ ‘Love over Gold,’ ‘Telegraph Road,’ the first Dire Straits album, and Communique. I was spellbound by Mark’s touch, tone, and melodic choice every time.”
Other influences are more obscure. “There were lots of session guitar players whose solos I was loving, but had no clue who they were,” he explains. “A good example was Ian Bairnson in the Scottish band Pilot and the Alan Parsons Project. It was only in the last handful of years that I stumbled upon him and did a deep dive, and realized he played the solo on ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush, ‘Eye in the Sky’ by Alan Parsons, ‘It’s Magic’ and ‘January’ by Pilot—all these songs that spoke to me growing up. I also feel like a lot of local-band guitar players are inspirations—they certainly were to me. They didn’t have a name, the band wasn’t famous, but when you’re 12 or 13, watching Barry Clough and guys in cover bands, it’s, ‘Man, I wish I could play like that.’”
On High, Urban keeps things song-oriented, playing short and economical solos.
In terms of country guitarists, he nods, “Again, a lot of session players whose names I didn’t know, like Reggie Young. The first names I think would be Albert Lee and Ray Flacke, whose chicken pickin’ stuff on the Ricky Skaggs records became a big influence. ‘How is he doing that?’”
Flacke played a role in a humorous juxtaposition. “I camped out to see Iron Maiden,” Urban recounts. “They’d just put out Number of the Beast, and I was a big fan. I was 15, so my hormones were raging. I’d been playing country since I was 6, 7, 8 years old. But this new heavy metal thing is totally speaking to me. So I joined a heavy metal band called Fractured Mirror, just as their guitar player. At the same time, I also discovered Ricky Skaggs and Highways and Heartaches. What is this chicken pickin’ thing? One night I was in the metal band, doing a Judas Priest song or Saxon. They threw me a solo, and through my red Strat, plugged into a Marshall stack that belonged to the lead singer, I shredded this high-distortion, chicken pickin’ solo. The lead singer looked at me like, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I got fired from the band.”
Although at 15 he “floated around different kinds of music and bands,” when he was 21 he saw John Mellencamp. “He’d just put out Lonesome Jubilee. I’d been in bands covering ‘Hurts So Good,' ‘Jack & Diane,’ and all the early shit. This record had fiddle and mandolin and acoustic guitars, wall of electrics, drums—the most amazing fusion of things. I saw that concert, and this epiphany happened so profoundly. I looked at the stage and thought, ‘Whoa! I get it. You take all your influences and make your own thing. That’s what John did. I’m not gonna think about genre; I’m gonna take all the things I love and find my way.’
“Of course, getting to Nashville with that recipe wasn’t going to fly in 1993,” he laughs. “Took me another seven-plus years to really start getting some traction in that town.”
Urban’s main amp today is a Dumble Overdrive Reverb, which used to belong to John Mayer. He also owns a bass amp that Alexander Dumble built for himself.
Photo by Jim Summaria
When it comes to “crossover” in country music, one thinks of Glen Campbell, Kenny Rogers, Garth Brooks, and Dolly Parton’s more commercial singles like “Two Doors Down.” Regarding the often polarizing subject and, indeed, what constitutes country music, it’s obvious that Urban has thought a lot—and probably been asked a lot—about the syndrome. The Speed of Now Part 1 blurs so many lines, it makes Shania Twain sound like Mother Maybelle Carter. Well, almost.
“I can’t speak for any other artists, but to me, it’s always organic,” he begins. “Anybody that’s ever seen me play live would notice that I cover a huge stylistic field of music, incorporating my influences, from country, Top 40, rock, pop, soft rock, bluegrass, real country. That’s how you get songs like ‘Kiss a Girl’—maybe more ’70s influence than anything else.”
“I think [Mark Knopfler] influenced a huge amount of my fingerpicking and melodic choices. I devoured those records more than any other guitar player.”
Citing ’50s producers Chet Atkins and Owen Bradley, who moved the genre from hillbilly to the more sophisticated countrypolitan, Keith argues, “In the history of country music, this is exactly the same as it has always been. Patsy Cline doing ‘Walking After Midnight’ or ‘Crazy’; it ain’t Bob Wills. It ain’t Hank Williams. It’s a new sound, drawing on pop elements. That’s the 1950s, and it has never changed. I’ve always seen country like a lung, that expands outwards because it embraces new sounds, new artists, new fusions, to find a bigger audience. Then it feels, ‘We’ve lost our way. Holy crap, I don’t even know who we are,’ and it shrinks back down again. Because a purist in the traditional sense comes along, whether it be Ricky Skaggs or Randy Travis. The only thing that I think has changed is there’s portals now for everything, which didn’t used to exist. There isn’t one central control area that would yell at everybody, ‘You’ve got to bring it back to the center.’ I don’t know that we have that center anymore.”
Stating his position regarding the current crop of talent, he reflects, “To someone who says, ‘That’s not country music,’ I always go, “‘It’s not your country music; it’s somebody else’s country music.’ I don’t believe anybody has a right to say something’s not anything. It’s been amazing watching this generation actually say, ‘Can we get back to a bit of purity? Can we get real guitars and real storytelling?’ So you’ve seen the explosion of Zach Bryan and Tyler Childers who are way purer than the previous generation of country music.”
Seen performing here in 2003, Urban is celebrated mostly for his songwriting, but is also an excellent guitarist.
Photo by Steve Trager/Frank White Photo Agency
As for the actual recording process, he notes, “This always shocks people, but ‘Chattahoochee’ by Alan Jackson is all drum machine. I write songs on acoustic guitar and drum machine, or drum machine and banjo. Of course, you go into the studio and replace that with a drummer. But my very first official single, in 1999, was ‘It’s a Love Thing,’ and it literally opens with a drum loop and an acoustic guitar riff. Then the drummer comes in. But the loop never goes away, and you hear it crystal clear. I haven’t changed much about that approach.”
On the road, Urban utilizes different electrics “almost always because of different pickups—single-coil, humbucker, P-90. And then one that’s tuned down a half-step for a few songs in half-keys. Tele, Strat, Les Paul, a couple of others for color. I’ve got a John Bolin guitar that I love—the feel of it. It’s a Tele design with just one PAF, one volume knob, no tone control. It’s very light, beautifully balanced—every string, every fret, all the way up the neck. It doesn’t have a lot of tonal character of its own, so it lets my fingers do the coloring. You can feel the fingerprints of Billy Gibbons on this guitar. It’s very Billy.”
“I looked at the stage and thought, ‘Whoa! I get it. You take all your influences and make your own thing. I’m gonna take all the things I love and find my way.’”
Addressing his role as the collector, “or acquirer,” as he says, some pieces have quite a history. “I haven’t gone out specifically thinking, ‘I’m missing this from the collection.’ I feel really lucky to have a couple of very special guitars. I got Waylon Jennings’ guitar in an auction. It was one he had all through the ’70s, wrapped in the leather and the whole thing. In the ’80s, he gave it to Reggie Young, who owned it for 25 years or so and eventually put it up for auction. My wife wanted to give it to me for my birthday. I was trying to bid on it, and she made sure that I couldn’t get registered! When it arrived, I discovered it’s a 1950 Broadcaster—which is insane. I had no idea. I just wanted it because I’m a massive Waylon fan, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that guitar disappearing overseas under somebody’s bed, when it should be played.
“I also have a 1951 Nocaster, which used to belong to Tom Keifer in Cinderella. It’s the best Telecaster I’ve ever played, hands down. It has the loudest, most ferocious pickup, and the wood is amazing.”
YouTube
Urban plays a Gibson SG here at the 2023 CMT Music Awards. Wait until the end to see him show off his shred abilities.
Other favorites include “a first-year Strat, ’54, that I love, and a ’58 goldtop. I also own a ’58 ’burst, but prefer the goldtop; it’s just a bit more spanky and lively. I feel abundantly blessed with the guitars I’ve been able to own and play. And I think every guitar should be played, literally. There’s no guitar that’s too precious to be played.”
Speaking of precious, there are also a few Dumble amps that elicit “oohs” and “aahs.” “Around 2008, John Mayer had a few of them, and he wanted to part with this particular Overdrive Special head. When he told me the price, I said, ‘That sounds ludicrous.’ He said, ‘How much is your most expensive guitar?’ It was three times the value of the amp. He said, ‘So that’s one guitar. What amp are you plugging all these expensive guitars into?’ I was like, ‘Sold. I guess when you look at it that way.’ It’s just glorious. It actually highlighted some limitations in some guitars I never noticed before.”
“It’s just glorious. It actually highlighted some limitations in some guitars I never noticed before.”
Keith also developed a relationship with the late Alexander Dumble. “We emailed back and forth, a lot of just life stuff and the beautifully eccentric stuff he was known for. His vocabulary was as interesting as his tubes and harmonic understanding. My one regret is that he invited me out to the ranch many times, and I was never able to go. Right now, my main amp is an Overdrive Reverb that also used to belong to John when he was doing the John Mayer Trio. I got it years later. And I have an Odyssey, which was Alexander’s personal bass amp that he built for himself. I sent all the details to him, and he said, ‘Yeah, that’s my amp.’”
The gearhead in Keith doesn’t even mind minutiae like picks and strings. “I’ve never held picks with the pointy bit hitting the string. I have custom picks that D’Addario makes for me. They have little grippy ridges like on Dunlops and Hercos, but I have that section just placed in one corner. I can use a little bit of it on the string, or I can flip it over. During the pandemic, I decided to go down a couple of string gauges. I was getting comfortable on .009s, and I thought, ‘Great. I’ve lightened up my playing.’ Then the very first gig, I was bending the crap out of them. So I went to .010s, except for a couple of guitars that are .011s.”
As with his best albums, High is song-oriented; thus, solos are short and economical. “Growing up, I listened to songs where the guitar was just in support of that song,” he reasons. “If the song needs a two-bar break, and then you want to hear the next vocal section, that’s what it needs. If it sounds like it needs a longer guitar section, then that’s what it needs. There’s even a track called ‘Love Is Hard’ that doesn’t have any solo. It’s the first thing I’ve ever recorded in my life where I literally don’t play one instrument. Eren Cannata co-wrote it [with Shane McAnally and Justin Tranter], and I really loved the demo with him playing all the instruments. I loved it so much I just went with his acoustic guitar. I’m that much in service of the song.”
Mooer's Ocean Machine II is designed to bring superior delay and reverb algorithms, nine distinct delay types, nine hi-fidelity reverb types, tap tempo functionality, a new and improved looper, customizable effect chains, MIDI connectivity, expression pedal support, and durable construction.
Similarly to the original, the Ocean Machine II offers two independent delay modules, each with nine different delay types of up to two seconds, including household names such as digital, tape, and echo delays, as well as more abstract options, such as galaxy, crystal, and rainbow. A high-fidelity reverb module complements these delays with nine reverb types, as well as a shimmer effect. Each delay and reverb effect can also be ‘frozen,’ creating static ambient drones, an effect that sounds particularly impressive considering the pedal’s DSP upgrades.
While the original Ocean Machine’s looping capabilities provided just 44 seconds of loop storage, the new addition features an impressive 120 seconds. To experiment with this feature, along with OceanMachine II’s other sonic capabilities, users can use an intuitive LCD screen along with 12 knobs (four for each delay and reverb module) to easily adjust parameters within the device’s ‘Play Mode.’ Three footswitches are also provided to facilitate independent effect toggling, tap tempo control, looper interfacing, and a preset selector.
Once the guitarist has crafted an interesting effect chain, they can save their work as a preset and enter ‘Patch Mode,’ in which they can toggle between saved settings with each of the three footswitches. In total, the Ocean Machine II provides eight preset storage banks, each of which supports up to threepresets, resulting in a total of 24 save slots.
The pedal’s versatility is further enhanced by its programmable parallel and serial effect chain hybrid, a signature element of Devin Townsend’s tone creation. This feature allows users to customize the order of effects, providing endless creative possibilities. Further programming options can be accessed through the LED screen, which impressively includes synchronizable MIDI connectivity, a feature that was absent in the original Ocean Machine.
In addition to MIDI, the pedal supports various external control systems, including expression pedal input through a TRS cable. Furthermore, the pedal is compatible with MOOER's F4 wireless footswitch, allowing for extended capabilities for mapping presets and other features. A USB-C port is also available for firmware updates, ensuring that the pedal remains up-to-date with the latest features and improvements.
Considering the experimental nature of Devin Townsend’s performances, MOOER has also gone above and beyond to facilitate the seamless integration of Ocean Machine II into any audio setup. The device features full stereo inputs and outputs, as well as adjustable global EQ settings, letting users tailor their sound to suit different environments. Guitarists can also customize their effect chains to be used with true bypass or DSP (buffered) bypass, depending on their preferences and specific use cases.
Overall, Ocean Machine II brings higher-quality delay and reverb algorithms, augmented looping support, and various updated connections to Devin Townsend’s original device. As per MOOER’s typical standard, the pedal is engineered to withstand the rigors of touring and frequent use, allowing guitars to bring their special creations and atmospheric drones to the stage.
Key Features
- Improved DSP algorithms for superior delay and reverb quality
- Nine distinct delay types that support up to 2 seconds of delay time: digital, analog, tape, echo,liquid, rainbow, crystal, low-bit, and fuzzy delays
- Nine hi-fidelity reverb types: room, hall, plate, distorted reverb, flanger reverb, filter reverb,reverse, spring, and modulated reverb
- Freeze feedback feature, supported for both delay and reverb effects
- Tap tempo footswitch functionality
- New and improved looper supporting up to 120 seconds of recording time, along withoverdubbing capabilities, half-speed, and reverse effects.
- Customizable order of effects in parallel or series chains
- Flexible bypass options supporting both true bypass and DSP bypass
- Large LCD screen, controllable through twelve easy-to-use physical knobs for real-time parameter adjustments.
- Adjustable Global EQ Settings
- Full stereo inputs and outputs
- Synchronizable and mappable MIDI In and Thru support
- USB-C port for firmware updates
- External expression pedal support via TRS cable
- Support for the MOOER F4 wireless footswitch (sold separately)
- Designed for durability and reliability in both studio and live environments.
The Ocean Machine will be available from official MOOER dealers and distributors worldwide on September 10, 2024.
For more information, please visit mooeraudio.com.
MOOER Ocean Machine II Official Demo Video - YouTube
You may know the Gibson EB-6, but what you may not know is that its first iteration looked nothing like its latest.
When many guitarists first encounter Gibson’s EB-6, a rare, vintage 6-string bass, they assume it must be a response to the Fender Bass VI. And manyEB-6 basses sport an SG-style body shape, so they do look exceedingly modern. (It’s easy to imagine a stoner-rock or doom-metal band keeping one amid an arsenal of Dunables and EGCs.) But the earliest EB-6 basses didn’t look anything like SGs, and they arrived a full year before the more famous Fender.
The Gibson EB-6 was announced in 1959 and came into the world in 1960, not with a dual-horn body but with that of an elegant ES-335. They looked stately, with a thin, semi-hollow body, f-holes, and a sunburst finish. Our pick for this Vintage Vault column is one such first-year model, in about as original condition as you’re able to find today. “Why?” you may be asking. Well, read on....
When the EB-6 was introduced, the Bass VI was still a glimmer in Leo Fender’s eye. The real competition were the Danelectro 6-string basses that seemed to have popped up out of nowhere and were suddenly being used on lots of hit records by the likes of Elvis, Patsy Cline, and other household names. Danos like the UB-2 (introduced in ’56), the Longhorn 4623 (’58), and the Shorthorn 3612 (’58) were the earliest attempts any company made at a 6-string bass in this style: not quite a standard electric bass, not quite a guitar, nor, for that matter, quite like a baritone guitar.
The only change this vintage EB-6 features is a replacement set of Kluson tuners.
Photo by Ken Lapworth
Gibson, Fender, and others during this era would in fact call these basses “baritone guitars,” to add to our confusion today. But these vintage “baritones” were all tuned one octave below a standard guitar, with scale lengths around 30", while most modern baritones are tuned B-to-B or A-to-A and have scale lengths between 26" and 30".)
At the time, those Danelectros were instrumental to what was called the “tic-tac” bass sound of Nashville records produced by Chet Atkins, or the “click-bass” tones made out west by producer Lee Hazlewood. Gibson wanted something for this market, and the EB-6 was born.
“When the EB-6 was introduced, the Bass VI was still a glimmer in Leo Fender’s eye.”
The 30.5" scale 1960 EB-6 has a single humbucking pickup, a volume knob, a tone knob, and a small, push-button “Tone Selector Switch” that engages a treble circuit for an instant tic-tac sound. (Without engaging that switch, you get a bass-heavy tone so deep that cowboy chords will sound like a muddy mess.)
The EB-6, for better or for worse, did not unseat the Danelectros, and a November 1959 price list from Gibson hints at why: The EB-6 retailed for $340, compared to Dano price tags that ranged from $85 to $150. Only a few dozen EB-6 basses were shipped in 1960, and only 67 total are known to have been built before Gibson changed the shape to the SG style in 1962.
Most players who come across an EB-6 today think it was a response to the Fender Bass VI, but the former actually beat the latter to the market by a full year.
Photo by Ken Lapworth
It’s sad that so few were built. Sure, it was a high-end model made to achieve the novelty tic-tac sound of cheaper instruments, but in its full-voiced glory, the EB-6 has a huge potential of tones. It would sound great in our contemporary guitar era where more players are exploring baritone ranges, and where so many people got back into the Bass VI after seeing the Beatles play one in the 2021 documentary, Get Back.
It’s sadder, still, how many original-era EB-6s have been parted out in the decades since. Remember earlier when I wrote that our Vintage Vaultpick was about as original as you could find? That’s because the model’s single humbucker is a PAF, its Kluson tuners are double-line, and its knobs are identical to those on Les Paul ’Bursts. So as people repaired broken ’Bursts, converted other LPs to ’Bursts, or otherwise sought to give other Gibsons a “Golden Era” sound and look ... they often stripped these forgotten EB-6 basses for parts.
This original EB-6 is up for sale now from Reverb seller Emerald City Guitars for a $16,950 asking price at the time of writing. The only thing that isn’t original about it is a replacement set of Kluson tuners, not because its originals were stolen but just to help preserve them. (They will be included in the case.)
With so few surviving 335-style EB-6 basses, Reverb doesn’t have a ton of sales data to compare prices to. Ten years ago, a lucky buyer found a nearly original 1960 EB-6 for about $7,000. But Emerald City’s $16,950 asking price is closer to more recent examples and asking prices.
Sources: Prices on Gibson Instruments, November 1, 1959, Tony Bacon’s “Danelectro’s UB-2 and the Early Days of 6-String Basses” Reverb News article, Gruhn’s Guide to Vintage Guitars, Tom Wheeler’s American Guitars: An Illustrated History, Reverb listings and Price Guide sales data.
An '80s-era cult favorite is back.
Originally released in the 1980s, the Victory has long been a cult favorite among guitarists for its distinctive double cutaway design and excellent upper-fret access. These new models feature flexible electronics, enhanced body contours, improved weight and balance, and an Explorer headstock shape.
A Cult Classic Made Modern
The new Victory features refined body contours, improved weight and balance, and an updated headstock shape based on the popular Gibson Explorer.
Effortless Playing
With a fast-playing SlimTaper neck profile and ebony fretboard with a compound radius, the Victory delivers low action without fret buzz everywhere on the fretboard.
Flexible Electronics
The two 80s Tribute humbucker pickups are wired to push/pull master volume and tone controls for coil splitting and inner/outer coil selection when the coils are split.
For more information, please visit gibson.com.